It was a rare thing, home. Crossing the bridge to the cottage he shared with his family, Micah of Hateno Village counted each moment at home as a blessing. A trail of smoke was rising from the chimney of their little cottage house, and even before he reached the door, he could hear the footsteps of a precocious young child pounding on the floor, and smell the rich aroma of vegetable stew on the stove.
He heard a woman's voice call out - 'Look, little one' - and the footsteps stopped; the door burst open, and from it came running a child of six, with blonde hair and blue eyes.
"Father!" the boy shouted, and Micah threw open his arms to catch his son, hauling him into the air, his ears soon filled with the sound of delighted squeals.
"Look!" his son said, pulling up a sleeve and flexing his skinny little arm. "Just like you! We've been playing swords at school."
Micah could not help but throw his head back and laugh. "Wonderful!" he praised. "You'll have big muscles in no time."
The boy grinned wide, revealing a missing front tooth, and wrapped his arms around Micah's neck for another hug. This was what made it worth it; the miserable days of travel in the rain and snow, the hours of training, the political intrigue at the Castle and the loneliness of being so far from home so often. This child and this home were the antidotes to laboured life Micah led.
"Let your father go, Link!" Micah's wife came next, wiping her hands on her apron as she shuffled out into the yard. "You'll strangle him."
She was unchanged in the months they had been apart; blonde hair neatly braided from her face, freckled skin gathering wrinkles. No matter how many times he saw her, Micah still felt a rush of calm when upon seeing her face, and it brought a sense of belonging and ease that nothing else gave him.
"It's fine, Rowan, he's not that strong yet," Micah said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek when she approached.
"But he is stubborn," Rowan replied, giving Link a gentle pinch on the shoulder. The boy winced and whined, which only made Rowan laugh. She pointed to the house, "Run along now. Go show your father your wooden sword."
Link did as he was told, leaping to the ground and running into the house, the dirt powdering behind his boots as he went. When Micah looked back to Rowan, her face had hardened. "How long this time?" she asked.
He shot out a hand to catch her arm, anticipating what her reaction would be to his words.
"I can only stay a few days," he said, and she frowned, turning to walk back into the house. Micah chased after her. "Hey - I'm sorry, Rowan, hey-" She stopped, folding her arms indignantly.
"Have you thought any more about coming to the Castle?" Micah ventured.
"And put more ideas in Link's head about being a fearless warrior?" his wife scoffed. It was a familiar argument, one it seemed they would step through once more. Rowan pulled herself free of his grip. "Micah, he's a child-"
"He's the son of a Knight," Micah argued.
"And the son of a teacher," his wife straightened her apron, fussing - an old habit when she was annoyed, Micah knew. "I understand, I do… We live this life, but it isn't the only life."
There was truth to her words, but Micah did not like to consider them. "I know that," he said sternly.
"Then you must understand!"
"And I do! You-"
There was a sniffle at the door. Link had returned, clutching the little wooden sword in hand. His blue eyes were huge against his soft face, glassy with tears - two deep pools of open waters, so clear that Micah could almost see his reflection in them.
"You were fighting about me," he whimpered.
Both parents relented at once. Micah knelt, and outstretched his arms, while Rowan sighed, her stony expression giving way to concern.
"Come here, little one," she urged their son. "We weren't fighting, really."
Link trotted over to his father and allowed himself to be picked up once again. Calling a truce between himself and his wife, Micah wrapped an arm around Link and Rowan both.
"We're here together, isn't that wonderful?" he told them and was glad to see a weak smile on Rowan's face. Micah nodded to Link's sword, filled with pride at the sight of it. "And look at that! You hold it like a natural - you'll be a great swordsman someday!"
Aurelia closed her eyes and breathed in the ocean air. There was something sad about Akkala. So plain and desolate and isolated, but beautiful too. It was a world away from the desert, but not too dissimilar. It would be what her people needed.
Her people. In earnest. Some called her Master. Some called her Chief. She told them Aurelia would do.
Some traditions kept. Some traditions lost. The Yiga would not cast their sickles aside, but now they used them to cut grass and cultivate crops that did not grow in the desert. They kept their tattoos, though their masks were gone. And gradually the apprehension faded, both towards others and themselves. The people of the Citadel became their people too. Soon the Yiga would be ready to strike out on their own; to found a new village somewhere in deep Akkala. There she would find peace, at last, she hoped.
But in the meantime, they lived at the Citadel. A place full of surprises. Every week a new level was discovered, or a new hall. Her sister Hana saw the size of one of the kitchens deep within the Citadel and half wept with happiness. She spent all Summer baking and cooking and had half the young men there in love with her for that alone. Though none tried anything; they were too afraid of Aurelia, which she did not mind.
Another surprise had come in the autumn; namely, the Champion Link, travelling without his partner. He had come to this part of the world to study under a Sheikah researcher, and to train the first Knights of the new order. The Akkalan Inglis accompanied him, and soon came a motley of impressionable Hylians after them, two of which were Sheikah. Aurelia recognised one of them - the tattooed girl whose life she had saved in that hidden village. Paya was her name, and she had come to visit one of her people, a Sheikah boy raised in Akkala she said, who was to train with Link at the Citadel. Link offered for Aurelia to join this new order, and though she declined, she was glad to have training partners again who had some level of skill.
Link was a beast in his own right; even without that fancy sword of his. It was his speed that surprised Aurelia the most. You could have been Yiga, she told him, to which he said nothing, only laughed high and wild into the Akkalan dusk. Inglis, on the other hand, was a brute to spar with, relying on his strength alone. Cinelgen's mark. Aurelia soon beat the habit out of him after the twentieth time or so that she tripped him. Once he lay on the grass after falling and smiled up at her some radiant, and for a moment she considered helping him stand. She would never admit it, but Aurelia was glad to see the Akkalan again. Inglis was the only one who could remember, or understand, the things that she remembered - the harshness of life in the desert, the day of the Karusa massacre, the day she had lost her eye. A few small threads of shared existence and pain; and those were so rare in a place so sparse.
"I'm going to the eastern beaches tomorrow," she told him one morning, as they walked to the nearby plains for training. "I want to see where the world ends."
"Build yourself a boat then, Aury," Inglis teased, a sly smile on his face.
She ignored the taunt, and stopped, taking his hand into hers. He almost snatched it away, but she held firm. The world had made her fight for everything she had; she could fight for Inglis.
"Why don't you come with me?" she said with a sincerity that surprised even her, "Let us just be friends, for once, Inglis."
"Friends…?" he repeated. His smile was gone.
"We've both had so few. It isn't...it isn't nice, being this lonely," Aurelia entwined their fingers, as on Inglis' face understanding - and guilt - dawned. Strange tears came then, from mourning that had been suspended. She felt Inglis' guilt in the strength of his embrace, the way he wrapped a steadying arm around her as if he would not let go.
"We are friends, Aurelia," he said softly. "Did you... ever talk to anyone about what happened to you? Your sister, and your…?" Inglis gestured to her eyepatch. Aurelia shook her head.
"Me neither," Inglis muttered. "About any of it. The years of it. Sometimes I miss him, you know, but then I remember what he was like...I don't know how to feel."
Aurelia rested her head against his shoulder, letting the tears flow. She could smell the cotton of his shirt and pressed her face into the fabric. "I'm trying to be strong, for my people…"
Warmth enveloped her as Inglis held her close, and Aurelia hugged him tightly. She poured herself into the embrace, finding reprieve after standing for so long on her own. Inglis stooped his head and kissed her brow above her empty right eye.
"Tomorrow, we'll go down to the beach," he told her. "Talk and… collect shells, or whatever it is people do."
"Link won't mind if you run off?"
Inglis smiled and tongued a tooth, thinking for a moment. "Nah," he said. "Or maybe, I just won't tell him."
Dear King Sidon,
It is with regret that I write to you again to inform you that I must again reject your proposal.
As much as I wish to return home, I made a promise to Zelda, and my efforts are best spent here, at Hyrule Castle. There is so much work to be done, and so much resting on her success. The Domain will always thrive, but Zelda needs my help now more than ever. Since I made my decision, I have not for a moment felt regret. By the Queen's side is where I belong, for now.
As you know, the Hylians do not live as long as us. Soon, the Queen and her future consort will be settled, and well into their lives. They will soon have no need for me. Then I will return, and sadly not before.
I will not ask you to wait. You are the King, and you must secure a future for your people. But know that I will always care for you, and love you dearly, for the kindness you have shown me.
I enjoyed visiting you during the Autumn. Perhaps, come Spring, you will visit me? Or perhaps I can convince Zelda to make a diplomatic mission to Zora's Domain. Though winter is upon us, the Queen has said she does not mind travelling through the snow.
Regardless, I believe in you, Sidon, as I know you believe in so many others. If you ever need any advice or assistance, you know how to reach me.
Yours faithfully,
Larella,
Chief Advisor to Queen Zelda of Hyrule
The bubbles swirled in her glass as Buliara gave her hydromelon tea another stir. Leaning against a sun-warmed wall, she took a short sip, and then another, feeling the cool spread through her mouth. Even in the winter, the heat of Gerudo Desert did not relent.
Not that Buliara minded; the warm days were welcome. They kept Gerudo Town thriving. She placed her tea down on the table next to her, beside a second, still full glass.
"Lady Riju," Buliara called across the courtyard before her. "Come, the ice in your drink is melting."
The little Chief raised her head; she was playing with Patricia in the sand seal's pen, giggling and rolling through the sand.
"In a minute!" she called back, tossing a rope toy across the pen, clapping with delight as her sand seal raced after it.
Buliara's smile came unbidden; here, the matters of Gerudo Town could be left behind. Here Riju's only duty was to her sand seal and her own happiness.
Even so, duty remained. There was a tap on Buliara's shoulder. She turned to see a messenger, carrying a folded note.
After a short bow, the messenger quietly said, "Lady Buliara, is the Chief available? There's been a development at the Bridge, it's almost complete, and the builders thought the Chief should come see-"
"It can wait."
A moment of silence passed as the messenger processed Buliara's words. She regained herself, holding up the note. "With all due respect, my Lady, it-"
With a heavy sigh, Buliara pushed off the wall, curtly snatching the note from the messenger's hands. Across the pen, Riju had not noticed the visitor, too enamoured with adjusting one of Patricia's brightly coloured ribbons.
"What do you see there, before you?" Buliara asked the messenger, pointing to the little Chief.
With wide, uncertain eyes that feared to utter a misstep, the messenger replied, "L-lady Riju?"
"Not who, what?" Buliara pressed. "Don't say 'our Chief'. What is she?"
At last, the messenger understood the meaning of the question. "A… a child?" she ventured.
"A child," Buliara affirmed. "Enjoying one of the few carefree moments she has in her day," She waved the messenger away and turned her attention back to Riju. "The Bridge can wait."
"Okay, Father, you can look now."
Teba opened his eyes, met with the vision of Tulin, holding out a small package, and Saki, her wingtips on their son's shoulder. For a moment, Teba did not see the package. He was still surprised to see the way he was Tulin now; the boy was a fledgeling no more, having grown nearly a foot since they had moved to Hyrule Castle nearly half a year prior. He was on the verge of earning his wings, and of all the progress being made in Hyrule, Teba was the proudest that.
Teba took the package and unwrapped the fabric to find - a pair of spectacles. They were wide-set, and long so that they could be tucked firmly into his feathers.
"You're kidding me," Teba laughed incredulously, picking up the glasses and peering through the lens. "Where did you find these?"
"A shop in Hateno," Saki answered.
The answer startled him. "During our visit?"
Saki laughed, "Yes, while you were off surveying that tunnel to Lanayru. Tulin and I did a little shopping. The man said he'd never made a pair for a Rito before."
Teba did not know what to say. Surely the spectacles would look ridiculous, though he couldn't help but feel curious. When he hesitated, Saki was there to help him; she picked up the spectacles and gingerly placed them upon his beak.
"Hylia be damned," the words fell from his beak. The world before him then was stunning. It was a revelation; everything was crisper, from the ends of his wingtips to the tallest towers of Hyrule Castle behind him. He looked back to his family, marvelling at how clear and vibrant they appeared before him.
"Well?" he asked.
"You look handsome," Saki crooned, adjusting the glasses slightly, so they sat straighter. "There. Very smart."
"Mother's right. It suits you, Dad," Tulin agreed.
Saki offered to seek out a mirror for him, but Teba did not need to see. If she and Tulin approved, then that was all he needed.
Yunobo left Goron City with little more than a pack, a bag of rupees, and a crude map of Hyrule. Where would he go? He wasn't sure. What would he do? It didn't matter. Well, he would do one thing; he would see. All that there was to see!
He hadn't even told Bludo. The boss wouldn't mind. There were plenty more Gorons. If he asked, Yunobo could just claim it was official royal duty. I'm a Champion, after all!
It was at the stables of Eldin, not even a day into his journey that Yunobo met the bard. He was the most colourful man Yunobo had ever seen; a Rito in green and red and blue and brown, carrying an accordion and singing a tune out the front of the Stables. When Yunobo stopped to listen, he realised that the bard was recounting the return of the Queen of Hyrule, and the adventures of her appointed Knight.
A Queen of Destiny. A Knight of Fate.
The deeds they performed, nothing short of great.
Yunobo fetched a rupee from his pack and held it out to the bard.
"Many thanks, friend," the Rito smiled as he continued to play. "Are you headed into Hyrule? You should go see the Castle. I have heard many great stories of its restoration."
"I haven't really thought about it!" Yunobo admitted, adjusting his heavy pack. "Is that what you do? Collect stories?"
"Me? Ah, I'm more likely to tell them!" the Rito said, holding up his accordion.
Yunobo gasped in awe. "Telling stories…" he murmured, and then he frowned. "That must be hard."
"It isn't, my friend. All it takes is a belief in your tale," the bard hooked his accordion over his back. "Say, if you care to share the coin for some stew, I can tell you more about my trade."
Grinning from ear to ear, Yunobo agreed, sealing the trade with a firm handshake. This was that feeling he knew existed; he'd heard it called fate. In a flash, he saw an imagined life in front of him. There were no mines, there was no smog. Only open air, and stories, and glowing faces listening as he spread the word of what he saw on the road. He fetched another rupee from his bag and gleefully handed it to the bard.
Zelda reread the Inglis' letter for what must have been the tenth time.
You remain his inspiration, Your Majesty. There are days when Link speaks of nothing and no one else.
It was what followed that she could not fathom, no matter how many times she read the words.
Robbie got so sick of Link's endless prattling about you that he granted us leave to visit Castle Town. Link was too busy packing to write, so I figured I had better.
The letter had arrived on a warm summer's morning, though there was a breeze in the air that told of the coming Autumn. Another year passed, two now since she had returned to Hyrule. How quickly time seemed to flow, like river water between her fingers.
The letter had been hand-delivered to Zelda by a jovial Rito courier, who had appeared a painted burst of colour as he soared in across the clear sky from the south. Zelda had been quietly hopeful that the letter would be from Link, walking with a unladylike urgency to meet the courier.
"An honour to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty," the Rito had said when she breathlessly met him at the Castle gates. The courier wouldn't hand her the parcel until he had bowed, and after he'd risen to his feet, he clicked his beak and put his wings to his waist, saying, "Never thought I'd live to see it. A Queen in Hyrule! I'll tell my fledgelings I was blessed to meet you, but they won't believe me!"
Zelda had reached into her purse and pressed a silver rupee into the Rito's grip, smiling slightly, as if sharing a secret.
"Some proof then. First round from the mint. New coin for a new era." The Rito had flown off grinning like a smitten youth, heart full and soul proud.
Zelda read the letter one last time, taking extra time to read Inglis' concluding line.
The healer said his leg is all healed now, so we should make good time. Best regards to all our friends at the Castle.
She pressed the letter to her chest, recalling the harrowing news; a rogue Moblin, one of the last left from the Calamity, had somehow crossed into the Citadel in the middle of the night. And Link, with no armour and nothing but a dagger for defence, had raced from his sleeping cell to confront the creature. It had been slain, but not before knocking Link to the ground, and breaking his leg. Another scar in the library they shared, one that told yet another tale of how he seemed to defy death at every turn.
Folding the letter carefully, Zelda returned it to a safe, hidden place within her desk. She donned her coat and walking boots, and prepared for her late afternoon stroll around Castle Town, taking a moment to check her braids and adjust the golden brooch she'd had made in Zora's Domain during her last visit. It was the crest of Hyrule in miniature, a wide-winged bird beholding the Three - a trio of triangles like the mark on her hand.
A week had passed since the letter's arrival, and yet there was still no sign of Link. But Zelda knew that a heavy heart was best saved for the truth and depth of grief, not for the lovesick pining and the sulking loneliness that she now felt. He has his duties, and I have mine.
It didn't make her miss him any less.
As she walked through the town, Zelda marvelled at the progress that had been made. A year had passed since her ascension, and that terrible day when she had shut down the Divine Beasts. Each beast sat in its respective positions, silent guardians now little more than stone. One day, Zelda knew. When we are ready, I will wake you. Looking down at her hands, Zelda paused for a moment to look at where the golden mark once was. She had returned the Three to the Other Place, knowing that her power would be safe there. Should she need it back, she knew where the Master Sword was resting. How that strange place shone once, she left the Three on the glass pedestal.
"It is as it once was, yet again," the hooded woman had said. "You and I have no more need of each other."
Zelda has asked the woman her identity in truth, but all she did was smile, and say, "Go, and bring peace to Hyrule."
On the south side of Castle Town, Chief Advisor Larella met Zelda on her way from the Castle with plans and papers spilling from her arms, gleefully announcing that the repairs were now exactly halfway done and that they would be ready to accept more residents soon.
"And are you quite sure you don't need an escort, Zelda?" Larella added.
Zelda laughed, and said with a small bow of her head, "Not anymore, but thank you."
The air smelled of fresh bread from a nearby bakery. Chatter filled the air, a dozen conversations that Zelda could only half hear wafting past. A little Hylian girl burst out from behind her, chased through the street by a grinning young boy, their red-faced and exhausted mother hot-footing after them. Zelda passed a pair of construction workers enjoying a break, their raucous laughter rippling between the newly-built cottages. Smoke was rising from the homes and shops, morning fires set to drive away the lingering cold. This is a town, Zelda thought. A town with people, a town with life.
The townsfolk that she passed either bowed or curtseyed, Good morning, my Queen on all of their lips. Zelda nodded back, realising that now, for the first time in years, she did not mind the title, or what it meant.
At the town gates, she found Teba and Tulin. They both bowed, but she laughed, and bid them rise.
"You have your wings, Tulin!" she said when she saw the feathered pauldrons Tulin wore on his shoulders.
"I made them myself," Tulin said proudly, running his wingtips over the feathers.
To celebrate the occasion, Zelda reached into her purse, pulling out a small silver rupee.
"There you are," she said. "Buy something your father wouldn't want you to," and before Teba could protest, Zelda hurried away from the gates to the sounds of Tulin's laughter.
New coins. New age. New Queen. Zelda had donned the dress, had worn the jewels, and had held the golden sceptre in her right hand and the shining white sword in the other. A gallery of her supporters of every race had gathered to see. And the four new Champions of Hyrule had all proclaimed her their ruler. But it was not until Link sought her at the feast afterwards, and not until he had addressed her as 'my Queen' did Zelda feel like a regent. She had dismissed him, no need for formality – but in rich defiance Link had taken her hand in his, and kissed the golden rings on her fingers, whispering the words again;
"But that's what you are, my Queen."
His Queen. Both to rule and be ruled. It had given her a thrill, a rolling rap against her chest as if her heart were the drum and his voice the batons. More thrill than a single one of her duties so far. I am his Queen, and he is my Knight. But it was simpler than that now. More elegant. Something that could withstand time, and distance, and the suddenness of their changing Kingdom; we belong together. And together, we belong.
But they were not together. Hyrule did not end at the walls of Castle Town. There were the villages, the travellers, the outposts, the ruins. All of it could be rebuilt. All of it could be what it was, more than what it was.
New Kingdom. New places. New purpose. Word of Link's near endeavour as the founder of the new Hylian Order of Knights was always positive. Though Hylian was not the right term. Link decided that his order would include everyone - Hylian, Rito, Goron, Geruo and Zora. Anyone who wanted to help protect the Kingdom would not be turned away. At last report, there were five knights-in-training at the Citadel. Link had rounded up all three Akkalans - Inglis, Grante, and Nell - as well as the Yiga woman Aurelia, and a Rito too.
Apparently, a small group of Zora were making their way to Akkala to train as well. Unprecedented! Hylian Knights who were not Hylian? Preposterous, as Zelda's father would say. But many things were preposterous; many things were unprecedented. Ganon's return? Unprecedented. The possession of the Divine Beasts? Unprecedented. An age of burning fields? Unprecedented. And the return of the Hylian Princess, now ruling as Queen, the first after a long, long line of Kings with big ambitions and little sense? Unprecedented.
And a Queen travelling without an escort? Perhaps that was unprecedented as well, and maybe reckless too. Zelda walked alone to the Sacred Grounds all the same. When her longing for Link became too much, this is where she found herself; the grounds where Link had first been formally inducted into her service. When she needed to think, to solve a problem, or just to feel some clarity and peace, she would do what Link would do; she would start again, coming to where their story together had begun. Zelda closed her eyes, knelt at the centre of the grounds and bowed her head in silent prayer to the Goddesses. There was nothing to ask of them. Hyrule's fate could never be altered, but its fortunes could be savoured.
"Thought you'd be sick of prayer by now."
His voice was both otherworldly and all too familiar. Zelda leapt to her feet, spinning on her heel, cautious not to get her hopes up. But there he was. Dressed in plain traveller's clothes, leading his horse on foot, with a longsword strapped to his back and his Sheikah Slate at his belt; her appointed knight. Well, appointed no longer - he was hers of his own volition, she knew - but a knight all the same. And of course, ever at his side, an ancient automaton; his Guardian, Rhoamet, who Zelda was pleased to see now had six legs again. Robbie's doing, she noted.
"I think I'm just immune to its effects, good and bad," Zelda said, and Link flashed her a wry smile. "And what about you, what brings you here?"
Link shrugged. "Legend speaks of a princess, carrying the blood of the Goddess. Decided I might come see her for myself."
"You'll find no goddesses here," Zelda laughed.
Link's eyes never left hers. "I think I might if my sight is clear."
To keep from blushing, she changed the subject. Adjusting her braids with an air of deliberate casualness, she asked, "How are your students?"
"Keen, if a little clumsy. Inglis is a force of his own now that he knows how to wield a sword proper. They've headed straight into town."
She waved to Rhoamet. "And this one?"
Link reached up and gave Rhoamet an affectionate pat on his shell. "Chugging along, aren't you buddy? We've been using him to educate people about the Calamity. So few know that these guys were once good," Link looked to the Castle walls. "What about you? How's it all going?"
"Flawlessly, actually," Zelda teased. "In your absence."
"Oh really? I'll go, then," He looked up at Rhoamet and raised a thumb over his shoulder. The automaton whirred, large head turning back towards the path away from the Sacred Grounds, and Zelda felt herself surging forward, shaking legs carrying her to his side.
"Link," she called, and then she sighed, worn down by how much she needed him. "I missed you."
Link brought Rhoamet to a halt with a gentle tap on his shell, and his gentle blue eyes appraised her with a mixture of amusement and adoration.
"I missed you too, Zel," he smiled, reaching up to brush a wisp of hair from her face.
Zelda could hold herself back no longer. She threw her arms around him, taking in his warmth, and the way he smelled of rain, and the wind, and the open air. He was wheezing against her tight grip, and laughing too, and soon they were both laughing together. Link pulled away, a hand finding and cupping her cheek.
"I missed this too," he chuckled.
The words were hardly more than a whisper. Link had her bewitched, so much so that Zelda would make demands she knew would go unfulfilled. "Then stay."
He drew back, folding his arms and chewing his lip. "Soon, I promise. I want to come back too, but I can't just ask Robbie to travel halfway across the world. We finally made a breakthrough with the bombs for the mountain tunnel-"
"I know, I know, I just… I know how precious time is," Zelda didn't want to bicker now - this argument had been played out on repeat in their letters. "You're here now. We're both here." Zelda wrapped a hand around his and began to lead him towards the town. "Let's make the most of that."
Link held firm, pulling her back in. He caught her lips in a daring kiss that became a frenzy, needing and hungry, as they traded their relief and excitement between themselves, the whole thing soon devolving into another round of giggles. Hands still intertwined, Link was the first to speak.
"I'm not afraid, you know," Link said suddenly. "Of time, I mean."
Zelda blinked at him, and so he clarified, "Ever since you told me about that eternal cycle, and all the lives we've lived, I'm not afraid," he shrugged. "Another year apart, two; we'll see each other again. Might not be the same me or the same you but - I know I'll see you soon."
Soon. Zelda recalled what she had seen; all of the lives she and Link had lived. The hooded woman had called them infinite. Link was right; there would always be a Princess, and always a Hero. It was a strange comfort, knowing that death was not the end but the start of a cycle anew.
"I understand," she said, raising a hand to cup his cheek. "Though I still wish...just promise me you will come back, soon."
"Soon," Link repeated. "As soon as I can. I'm tired of the rain in Akkala, and Inglis isn't nearly as nice to look at as you are."
"Link!" she hissed, sputtering a laugh as she reached up to knuckle his shoulder. She was about to scold him some more, when, out the corner of her eye, she saw it; a happening at the Castle; the appearance of a dozen blue and white lights, appearing one by one. They were the commemorative lanterns, lit to honour the fallen of the Calamity, and celebrate the heroes who ended it.
"Champion's day," Link smiled. "It's tomorrow isn't it?"
Zelda could not take her eyes off the lights. "Indeed," she murmured. "You were just on time as usual."
"Could have been worse - could have been a hundred years late."
New days. New light. Old habits. Zelda rolled her eyes, but could not hold back her smile. She would wait a hundred years if she had to, for him. Five hundred. She would do it all over again, live all the pain and the loss and the hardship if it meant a life with him. She knew without reservation that he would do the same.
Zelda took his hand once more. "Come on then, wisecracker, let's go. There's a feast starting soon, and I need to give the blessing."
"Lead the way, Zel," Link said, gesturing for Rhoamet to follow. "I go where you go."
In the far west, the Sun was almost set - and the blue and white lanterns all across Hyrule Castle shone like stars. They twinkled and flickered. No single light was particularly strong, but together they made a symphony - of memories from the past, and hope for the future.
Hand in hand, with their Guardian faithfully at their backs, Link and Zelda left the Sacred Grounds and returned to the Castle that was once again their home.
A/N: So that's it for FTGU! I will be writing a longer Author's note that will be posted as Ch 24. This will explain some of the key themes, ideas, lore and characterisations that went into this fic. Thank you so, so, so much to everyone for your incredible reviews. Your support has been immense, and something I always look forward to when a new chapter updates. The author's note will also detail my future plans for writing and for TLOZ