"Sir Link?"
The warrior turned from the window, twilight casting strange shadows on his face, making him seem wild, even savage. But it quickly faded, like the fading sun.
Favian suppressed the shiver that had stolen his nerves and licked this lips nervously. "The Princess says white will be sufficient, my Lord."
"Is that all she said?" The voice was cold, like an edge of steel.
Favian shifted awkwardly. Why must the princess make him the messenger? "No… But it wasn't anything too-"
Link's golden brows furrowed. "I don't want to know whether or not it's important! I want to know what she said!"
Favian grimaced at the apathy in the voice, apathy that hid like a snake behind the anger. "She said, 'It's his wedding too. Can't he make one choice on his own?' and she said, 'White. Tell him to wear white.' That's all."
Link's expression was unreadable, but his body language was unmistakable. His shoulders tightened and he sighed. He turned back to the window, and the soft glow of the twilight he had once known so well. There was an indeterminable silence.
"Thank you, Favian."
Favian bowed, eager to make his leave. "Very good, Sir Link."
Link watched as twilight melted over the landscape, coating the green fields with orange, turning the rooftops ochre as the tips of the sky purple.
Where was she now?
Did she miss him?
He usually tried not to think about it. But not tonight.
He pulled his white tunic out of his wardrobe and ran the cloth between his fingers. He had to think about it now. Think about it and never again. He was to marry Zelda on Sunday.
He closed the wardrobe's doors, and staring him in the face was the triforce, carved into the wood, the object that had twisted his destiny, the one that had him marrying Zelda on Sunday. The one whose power had forced Midna away from him.
"I don't understand!" He growled, throwing the tunic onto the bed. "Why break the mirror, Midna? Why leave me behind?"
He caught his breath. Had he really just said that out loud?
For almost a year, Midna had been his constant companion. Lingering in his shadows, guarding his steps, fighting by his side. She was his ally, his confidant, his best friend. How many nights had they sat by the campfire, silently watching the stars, contemplating the path ahead? Why would she leave, for the last time, with only a fragment of thought, incomplete, unfulfilling? When there were so many unspoken things between them that could be said…
Link had always cared for her. There was something about her that he'd always enjoy, in all of her perverse humor, and all of her abuse. He chuckled to himself, remembering how she'd jerk on his ears when she rode on his back, and how he'd put on a burst of speed just to make her jump. How wonderful things had been then. Nothing was complicated. Everything unsaid, with the promise of one day conquering the barrier of silence fluttering on the horizon of the future.
And then she returned to her natural form.
Link had seen many strange and beautiful things on his journey. But nothing, nothing compared to the beauty of the twilight princess. She was more than just a friend now. She was a woman.
A beautiful, fantastic woman.
A woman whom he was beginning to wonder if he loved.
He battled the thought now. Whether he loved her or not, she was gone now. She didn't love him. She couldn't. She'd severed the ties.
And left him with Zelda.
He liked Zelda. She was impressive. Admirable. He enjoyed her company. Many a day they'd walked in the gardens of Hyrule Castle, talking, laughing. But he was lonely. She saw that. And being the Princess, a goddess in a world of men, she understood. She didn't want to be alone either.
So, the natural solution was marriage.
It made perfect sense. Link had to agree. They were the ultimate power couple. They would rule a golden age, with Ganon dead. Link thought it might work. He believed that he could love Zelda, someday, when marriage had healed hid broken heart. But, he'd been wrong. He didn't love her.
He couldn't stop thinking about Midna.
He sat on his bed. Zelda deserved to be loved. She deserved more than a halfhearted union for politics. Zelda was dear to him. He wanted her to be happy.
He just didn't love her.
There was a knock at the door.
"Sir Link, dinner is about to be served."