A/N: No school for two days! Yay hurricane! So this last chapter shall be woven, from the threads of an angel's feather.

TheGoddessKnight: That was dumb, so here is the "last chapter."

MidKnight: What's with the "last chapter" crap? I aint touching this story again, I wasn't even supposed to even continue.

TheGoddessKnight: I might not, maybe, but most likely no.

MidKnight: Weirdo

With Death, Comes Life

Zelda stared out of the carriages window. Up in the sky was hardly any sun. Only just the dark gray clouds of rain the kept the sun from shining through. Zelda looked down at her black, gloved hands. It had been such a long time ago that she first stepped into the cemetery at Kakiriko.

"Mommy, are we going to visit daddy?" her young son that sat next to her said.

Zelda nodded, "Yes Leon, we're going to visit daddy."

The carriage stopped in front of the entrance to the cemetery. There was a group of people near the cracked grave that belonged to their hero. As Zelda, in a black dress, got out of the carriage, the common people turned to see their queen. Their glares bore through her as she helped her son down from the carriage.

She didn't blame them. Zelda did betray them after all. That day, soon after Link had died, she had to tell the public how their hero and king died. The young princess told them of her affair and the duel to the death that all helped the destruction of Link's life.

Many looked at her like a whore and adulterous skank. She had, after all, turned her back on the wedding vows she shared with Link. A very few tried to understand what the princess had went through. Even a marriage that seemed so perfect could fall apart. Still, her public appeal was negative at best.

People already started to talk as Zelda and her son walked past them to the grave of her late husband. They kept their gaze on her young son, their prince. Zelda decided it was best that she kept one key factor secret from the peoples: she never mentioned that Leon's real father was Vincent.

A guard handed Zelda a bouquet of flowers. She placed them on Link's grave. A light rain started to fall on cemetery, like it usually does. She started at Link's grave. After a few years, his tombstone had become a little weathered and cracked. The stone sword that protruded from the top still remained in great condition. An engraved quote on his tombstone simply read: "I'll always love you."

She then turned to the grave next to Link's. A tear shed every time Zelda saw it. Ever since he was buried and placed with a tombstone with stone replicas of his swords in a crossed formation, Vincent grave was always looked down upon. The hilt of the left sword was broken off. There was graffiti written on it. Zelda tried to make sure Dampè would keep it as in good of condition as Link's but that made his work unbearable. Dampè held no ill feeling toward the queen and did what she asked him to do but others hated Vincent.

To almost all of Hyrule, Vincent was the person that was even more hated against then Zelda. The guard handed Zelda another bouquet of flowers to her. She placed them on Vincent's grave. Zelda looked up at the two crossed swords and saw the engraving where they intersected.

"Never cry Princess."

Zelda looked away. He always called her that. Not as her title but as a name. Another bouquet of flowers was placed on both graves. Zelda looked up to see Malon smiling at her. Zelda felt like Malon was always too good of a friend to her. Even during the early days when Hyrule held their grudge against the queen, Malon was always there for her.

"You should take Vincent's advice," Malon said.

"I know," Zelda said. "It just that it's hard to be here. Everyone hates me. They hate Vincent. They even hate Leon. Leon is just a young boy. He never did anything to these people except be born. You can't have a grudge against Leon because of that. It isn't fair."

"It isn't, I know," Malon said. "But Zelda, where did he ever get those red eyes from?"

"From his father," Zelda said.

Leon had bright red eyes, an exact duplicate of Vincent's. They burned with passion and intensity that made Zelda fall in love with his father in the first place. The blond hair he had was of course from Zelda but the straight locks were from Vincent. He resembled Vincent in a few ways. He was ambidextrous and bright for such a young age. That could be from Zelda but Vincent was never a scholarly slouch.

"You said Link was the father," Malon said. "You mean…"

Zelda nodded. In a soft voice, "Vincent is his real father. I know some may believe that is true, I want to at least give Leon a chance. I had to lie Malon, think about how hard it would be for Leon if the people knew he was the illegitimate heir to the throne. Hyrule would have no next generation of royalty. But it's still all for him. Everyone hates Vincent and would hate our child just as well if they knew."

"Don't worry Zelda," Malon said. "I can keep is secret. Leon is a sweet kid, I wouldn't want him hurt."

"Thank you."

"Mommy, why do we always give flowers to that grave every time we see daddy?" Leon asked, pointing to Vincent's grave.

"He doesn't know either?" Malon asked.

Zelda shook her head, "Its best for him if he didn't know. Not until he's older at least." Zelda turned to her son, "Sweetie, Vincent was a good friend of mine. He died the same day that daddy died. They were good friends and I loved them both very much. We pay respect to him as well."

Leon nodded, "Okay. Can I have a flower?"

Zelda looked to her guard and handed the boy a flower. Leon placed it in the middle of both Link's and Vincent's graves. He looked up to his mother and smiled, "Then I love them both too."

Zelda smiled. The rain suddenly stopped and the sun's rays parted through the clouds. Leon looked up and took a deep breath.

"I wish that daddy didn't have to die," Leon said. He looked down to Link's grave, "But he's in a better place now, right mommy?"

"Of course he is," Zelda said. "Link was always a good person. Always forgave people and was kind-hearted so there should be no reason why he shouldn't be up in heaven."

"And him?" Leon asked, pointing again to Vincent's tombstone.

"Vincent may have been a little rough around the edges but he was a good person at heart. Caring and compassionate, Vincent never gave up on the people he loved, " Zelda said.

"They were both good guys, Leon," Malon said. "Link was a hero and savior. He was a great man and it's a little sad to see him gone. Vincent wasn't what Link was but he did have his strengths. Just like what your mom said, he was loving. A little arrogant and crude but that was what made Vincent, well, Vincent."

"Oh," Leon said. "They were friends?"

"The best," Zelda answered. "Link was happy to befriend Vincent. Link didn't have too many friends when growing up. He was an outcast."

"Kind of like me?" Leon asked sadly.

"Oh come on, they just need to see the real you," Malon said.

"What with all these questions honey?" Zelda asked.

"Oh, I was just wondering about my father," Leon said. "I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to see how alike we were. I know it's a hard thing to talk about mommy, sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry Leon," Zelda said. "Link would've been a good father to you if he was alive."

"And if Vincent was alive, maybe I could get to know why daddy liked him so much."

"Of course," Zelda said.

"Your highness, we should depart before it gets to dark," said the guard behind Zelda.

"Okay, come on Leon, lets go home," Zelda said.

Leon looked at the graves one more time before joining her mother back to the carriage.

"Keep at it kiddo, I wasn't liked either…"

A/N: Fitting end, enough for true closure and enough room for expansion. You know, just in case. Hope you guys liked this story as much as I did. I mean, I had no idea what to expect when I was writing this but I'm sort of happy with the way it came out. Not a lot of detail and a bit short but this was never a devoted project. I wrote whatever came to me.

A bit impulsive I guess.

Anyways, hope to see you reviewers as authors and reviewers of my stories. Without you guys, its like the classic riddle: What if a tree fell in the woods and no one was around to hear it. Would it make a sound?

Stories are the same. If no one reads them, then why are they there?