Part Two: Link

She's not blessed. How could she be blessed with a man like me – a brazen liar? She gazes at me with those big green eyes of her – so full of trust and warmth and honestly I feel a chill run down my spine, colder than the winds of Snowpeak. I smile, like I always do, and kiss her forehead, plying her ears with words that I know she wants to hear but I feel so hollow, so detached. Poor, foolish Ilia – if only she knew the truth…

Given that the Triforce of courage is supposed to reside within my soul, I find it kind of ironic that I'm terrified of her discovering the truth. If I was truly courageous, I would have told her long ago why I had returned so abruptly, or indeed why I had left in the first place but it turns out, I'm really not that brave.

I've waited until she's definitely asleep before taking out Zelda's letter for a second read. Yep, I did read that right – so she's finally getting married and she asks that I give her away. It's funny how I can picture her calmly writing that request. She'd be sitting at that desk in her private office, like she always is, the feather quill lying neatly in her hand, her head tilted to one side as her dark eyes study the words she's written. 'Do you think I have adequately stated my case?' she'll ask no-one in particular, 'Maybe I should rephrase…I do not wish to give a false impression…' and then she'll remember who she's writing to and remind herself that she doesn't need to make an impression on me anymore. I have quite an opinion of her anyway.

She won't offer me an apology for springing her news on me like this, and to be honest, I'd hate to hear one from her. Some things are better left unsaid - we are definitely one of them. Looking back on things my going to the castle had been a mistake: a huge, catastrophic mistake. The 'unselfish' hero had left his home for purely selfish reasons.

Zelda was the only person besides me who knew Midna.

Two years ago, I had no way of coping with the grief of losing her. It was like losing my left arm – I felt her absence so strongly and there was no way of ever seeing her again and I couldn't understand why she had done that to me. To my dying day I'll remember the sound the mirror made when it shattered, that single diamond tear glistening in her eyes. I don't think I'll ever really understand what I felt for her; I'll never have the chance to. She was an annoying imp, then my closest friend and then the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She was confusing.

I couldn't understand my feelings and I couldn't bear life without her and I could feel myself slowly sinking into this mire of hopeless despair and so I turned to the only person I knew could at least explain what was happening to me: my beautifully wise counterpart, Princess Zelda.

It was the best and worst decision of my life. I was right – Zelda could empathise with me – she too had lost during the war and it wasn't until I started to realise my own selfishness, that I could realise her pain. Slowly I began to see beyond her composed exterior that the true Zelda was actually a lonely, afraid girl who was desperate to do the right thing but incapable of doing it and since she had been the one to lift me out of my despair, I realised the only decent thing to do would be to stay at the castle and help her achieve her aims.

And so, just as she had done, I lifted her out of the mire she was in and helped her draw up an effective plan to rebuild, remodel and improve our nation. The more we planned and devised, the more our confidence grew, the more the spirit of the people lifted, the more people whispered.

Of course we knew. We often laughed about it, how cliché – we'd chuckle, the hero and the princess, of course everyone believed that we were a match made by the goddesses themselves. People couldn't accept that we were friends. And after laughing, we'd toast to friendship and to Hyrule – our Hyrule - and to foolish rumours and nothing more would be said between us.

We thought we were so strong – so immune to expectations. Even when her counsel asked for me to attend for some stupid reason and I discovered that they were expecting me to ask for her hand, we laughed about it, never once dreaming of what would happen. We continued planning and enjoying our friendship, working together to make Hyrule a better place than ever before.

But what is the use of thinking of the past – thinking of our past. It is over and I cannot change it. I'm not the Hero of Time! I sometimes doubt that I'm a hero at all; I think I'm just some dumb kid that was in the wrong place at the wrong time and had some amazing help to overcome the impossible. Anyway, even if I am the legendary hero reborn, it doesn't matter – I'm right back where I started – in Ordon with Ilia and the samey, dull life I once relished. It's funny how time can change your perspective on things, isn't it?

Zelda's letter smells of her perfume. Before I know what I'm doing the paper is against my nose and I'm sniffing it like I would have when I was a wolf. I put it on the dresser and decide to call it a night. I can't change the past any more than I could change my future. Ilia is already in bed asleep, peacefully dreaming, her short hair curled around her round ears. I know if I touch it, it will be soft to the touch and when I hold her, she smells earthy but she does not remind me of sunlight, nor can I see the world in her eyes. This is my reality…

Bah! I'm going to bed.