It seemed as though once a certain capacity of pain was endured, the body numbed itself to feeling altogether. It had to be some kind of defense brought about by Hylia herself; a blessing, a reparation for his devotion to the task given to him. If not for that grace, he surely would have collapsed the moment Ganon's great magenta mass fizzled out into the setting sun. Every muscle, which had previously burned with strain, now seemed to drift off with the remains of the battle. His body held less weight than the air around him. Link couldn't feel a thing.

"I've been keeping watch over you all this time," his eyes had neglected to meet the sweeping golden figure. He knew that it was Zelda- he was amazed that it was Zelda, but his mind had hardly the sensibility to focus on her. All of his thoughts, which had seemed to only think of Ganon for the last painful year, now wilted, even as the world around him demanded his common sense. for once, though, he couldn't comply. He so badly just wanted to drift off into the wind with the fragments of the monster he had just slain. Surely that was selfish?

"I've witnessed your struggles to return to us as well as your trials in battle. I always thought- no, I always believed that- that you would find a way to beat Ganon." Her eyes were criminally green… staring him down with all of the strength and glory of Hylia herself. It struck Link suddenly: comparing her to a goddess seemed silly; she was a goddess, a celestial being, one that he ought to be grateful to be in the presence of. Ought. But instead, sensation rushed through his body once again much too quickly. His knees ached with the weight of the world. It could have been the intensity of the battle, but more likely, it was her gaze. The gaze that he had to force himself to hold. That's what she wanted, what she deserved- a hero able to conquer Ganon and hold eye contact with princesses alike. But he was so exhausted, and neither Zelda nor Hylia nor his own willpower alike would be able to hold him upright much longer.

But he had to. And he wanted to, truly.

"I never lost faith in you over these many years. Thank you, link, the hero of Hyrule." The feeling once again left his body, like some kind of cruel taunt from the heavens. Teasing him with numbness- physically, anyways.

'The Hero of Hyrule'. That type of title demanded a crown, a celebration, a palace up on a hill. It held such weight. But even with Zelda, the princess, his princess bestowing it down upon him... he felt nothing. He yearned for her gratitude, but when faced with it, he wanted only to plunge into another battle- to sink his sword into some terrible beast. To feel sweat pour down his face, to feel every fiber of every muscle burn, to feel the familiar agony of enemy fire. He longed for that misery, now. At least then, muscle memory and adrenaline would guide him through the motions. Be it dummies in a courtyard or a stone talus, the familiarity of the movements and sensations would be enough to guide him. Years of training made arrow wounds feel like an embrace. Homely, that's what it was: secure. But there wasn't anything secure about standing across from the princess of Hyrule as she drowned him in brief, yet glowering praise. Never had Link been instructed on how to feel, or what to say in this situation. So he let silence, his most reliable instinct, carry him through.

"May I ask...do you really remember me?"

Feeling returned to him once more, but this time without the mercy of any amount of graduality. Her eyes became daggers that threatened to kill whatever consciousness he had left. They were full of warmth and an innocent sort of plea; but, that very warmth threatened to burn him and that innocence filled his lungs like salt water.

He wanted to say yes. of course he did, and it wouldn't necessarily be a lie. He remembered Zelda. He remembered her curled up against Urbosa like a tired child, he remembered her sinking beneath the glare of her father, he remembered her latching onto him while the rain chilled their bones. But he didn't remember her, did he? Not like she wanted him to. Not like he wanted to. He couldn't remember what she smelled like, or what she liked to eat. He couldn't remember their conversations, if they had any at all. He remembered every bit of her, as a civilian might, but he didn't know her as he ought to.

But how did she remember him? Maybe it was selfish to even ask. He didn't have time to think about it, not now as he stood open-mouthed in front of the princess of Hyrule.

He fell down to a kneel with about as much grace as a Bokoblin tripping over itself. Whether it was the princess or the exhaustion that did it was debatable, but the reason didn't matter much to Link. What mattered was that he hadn't the strength to return to his feet.

"Link?" her voice carried the same panic as it had that night with the guardians. It was if the flashback was repeating, and everything was starting to spin, and someone was grabbing his shoulder…

"Link." his eyes opened. Zelda. The princess. She was kneeling beside him, one hand cradling his head and the other holding his hand. His mind short-circuited, and in that moment he couldn't focus on anything but his hand in hers and the space between them. Everything else was too much. Even this was too much.

"Princess?" he hardly recognized his own voice. It wasn't often that he spoke, but even so, this time his voice felt unfamiliar. It was as if a stranger was talking through him- as if he was some self-aware marionette. The word poured out of his tongue without bothering to seek approval from his mind first. He forced himself up and out of her grasp. Stars accompanied the quick movement, but he was able to hold his own weight as he found his feet, which was a gift in and of itself. Besides, stars clouded the space where Zelda still sat, saving himself the new trial of having to once again meet her eyes.

"You lost yourself for a moment there," her dignified accent rolled over her tongue. It was as if she had had lessons in proper speech just yesterday. Lessons. He vaguely remembered something about lessons. Not enough to grasp on, but enough to spike his imagination. Surely a princess would have had lessons in proper mannerisms? Was this a real memory or one constructed right now?

"Link, are you alright?" Her words pulled him out of his own mind. "Link, look at me. Sit back down if you need to." He obeyed. His gaze found hers once again. She had pulled herself up to a stand and now stood hardly a meter from him. The ethereal golden glow that she had greeted him with had faded. He didn't remember when it left, but it didn't matter much, her presence alone held a certain aura he couldn't describe. Something that drew him in- was it the past?

"Princess," the same word fell clumsily out of his mouth. He had the urge to fall to a knee (purposefully, this time), but refrained from doing so out of fear that he wouldn't be able to stand again.

"Link," her tone matched his, and for a moment, the silence between them spoke more than either of the two Hylians had. What was that look in her eye? He wasn't the best at reading people, but now, in this moment, he wished that he could see into her mind. Was it pity? Excitement? Confusion? He couldn't narrow it down.

"Are you alright, Princess?" his instincts returned to him suddenly. Link's now narrowed eyes examined her limbs pointedly, searching for some sort of wound or graze. She was dirty, certainly, but with no visible wounds.

"I don't believe I am the one who fell into the mud," a hint of playful sarcasm dropped into her voice. The air seemed to lighten around the pair. He paused his examination for just a moment to make sure he had heard her correctly. The smile on her face confirmed that he had.

He refrained from speaking, but he did allow himself to smile back at her. The wind pushed itself between his hair, and once again his instincts got the best of him. He turned his head to the left, and then to the right, examining his surroundings closely. The ability to be aware of one's surroundings was one that kept Link alive. A moment of apathy could result in an arrow in your neck.

"I've had a hundred years to think, and yet, I don't know what to say," Zelda's voice was softer than what he had remembered in the snippets of the memories that he had gathered. She spoke now to him like he was a timid little creature that might scare away. He didn't mind, though. It would be silly to take offense to anything she said. Ganon was gone. He had fulfilled his task. There was no reason at all for him to fret. Still, he wished that he had a response for her. It wasn't his duty to speak with her, and it was never, but if he remembered much of anything from his time with Zelda 100 years ago, it was how he had longed for her to speak with him. Not to instruct him, or to insult him, or to command he leave her alone, but to speak with him as Mipha and Daruk and most of everyone else had. She was a princess, though. she owed him nothing. she didn't then, and she most certainly didn't now with the Calamity a thing of the past.

"You look just the same, you know," her hands had lost themselves in her hair where she seemed to be attempting to unsnaggle some stubborn knot. "Well, maybe a bit taller-" her piercing eyes narrowed at the space above his head as she seemed to calculate if he had, in fact, grown during his 100 year slumber. "No, not taller, just a bit more-" she struggled for words. "More rugged, but in a good way." Was he to be insulted? Her weight visibly shifted from foot to foot. "Go on then, say something." Her tone, although still warm, held a certain air of authority. Natural of a princess, but somewhat startling for Link.

"Couldn't you see me?" Hesitation was woven through his words. He simply allowed himself to say the first thing that came to mind, to appease her. The last thing either of them needed was any sort of conflict, goddess forbid.

"What?" her thick eyebrows furrowed at his response. Of course he'd managed to say something ridiculous. This, link thought, confirmed that silence was always the best course of action, especially when talking to women.

"When you were in the castle… couldn't you see me?" he felt as though he was a small child confessing nervously to his mother.

Zelda merely blinked back, before a smile spread across her face once again. "Oh, yes, well sort of," she paused, seemingly taking a moment to word her response correctly. Was she always this calculated with her speaking? With the bits of Zelda he had seen, she seemed much more impulsive than she was letting onto right now. Perhaps a hundred years had given her patience. "...I knew you as the sun might know you," she took another pause. "As in, I could… well, feel you, feel where you were, more like, but I couldn't look at you as I might now." her eyes grazed over his body. "I was a bit busy." Again, a smile tugged at her lips. She meant it as a joke, he knew, but still it caused the air in his lungs to grow heavier.

"I'm sorry, Princess," he once again glanced behind himself, eyeing the perimeter. No monsters, no threats. "I could have been faster."

Zelda shook her head, and seemingly forced him to once again meet her eyes. "No, Link, everything happened as it had to," her comment reminded her of Urbosa's. It felt right. Fate was unchangeable. The Goddess knew a century before that this would happen as it did, surely. But every bit of Link still felt as though he could have done better. He could've skipped those stays at the stables, he could have spent less time cooking, more time training… "Link, I promise you, I hold nothing but the upmost respect for you and your sacrifices." Zelda's voice seemed to soften, stutter almost, as she concluded her sentence. It was uncharacteristic, even if he didn't know her well enough to know what was and wasn't characteristic of her, but he was convinced that her behaviour was off.

"Thank you, princess." Certainly that would please her. end the conversation. Change the subject. He once again couldn't help but long for an ambush. how stupid, to hope for an encounter.

"I mean it," she finished. Ever stubborn, it seemed.

The sun had begun to melt into the horizon. There weren't any more remnants of Ganon, not a single ash of the Calamity to be seen. Only the long expanse of fields of flowers and distant oak trees. Hyrule's beauty at it's finest. It wasn't too often that Link had a moment to stare off into the distance for anything other than to assess threats. It occurred to him that perhaps now he would. is that what life would be for him, now? Watching the eastern winds push about swift violets… it was hypnotizing. For once, Link felt his mind relax, even if only for a moment. He allowed himself to look at the expanse of the land without any objective in mind. There was no Ganon to rush after, or a princess to save. There was only him, and Zelda, and the sun.

Zelda, too, seemed to be staring off with him. He wondered briefly what she was thinking. It had been 100 years since she was able to look out at the land, her land, properly. He was reminded of his favourite memory that he had recovered, in which the pair had sat together in the grass while Zelda rambled about the various plants native to Hyrule. In truth, he doubted that he had ever cared much about the specifics. He didn't possess the same analytical mind as her. But still, he remembered the warm blossom in his chest that he had felt when she had sat with him that day and spoke to him as one might with a friend. What a funny thing, to be friendly with a princess.

"Wetland stable is only a few hours journey on horseback, is it not?" Once again, the princess interrupted his thoughts. he responded with a swift nod. "If we leave now, we will be able to get a good night's rest." Link would have laughed if the entire thing didn't feel so strange. She was speaking as if they were out on some trip and needed to take a rest. He wasn't exactly sure how he wanted her to act, not that it mattered.

Link brought two fingers to his mouth, and let out a sharp whistle. He was confident Dahlia would get them there in an hour tops, if she didn't mind riding hard. As far as he was concerned, the only objective was getting there as quickly as possible. Maybe now he'd allow himself a solid amount of rest.

Link liked having objectives. it was how he lived his entire life, and it seemed as though it had done him well. Complete the mission. Guard the princess. Defeat Ganon. It was simple and efficient; failure or success could be judged easily. Without them, he was lost. And so even if he hadn't a solid plan, or duty now, he settled for getting the princess to Westland Stable.