For as long as Link can remember, he'd been in love with Princess Zelda.
In his fragmented memories from before the Calamity, he recalled her standing ahead of him, the bright sunlight overhead throwing shining glints through her golden hair. She'd point ahead, excitedly chatting about the next landmark or destination and its history; Link would nod, not as invested in the discovery as she was, but enjoying her enthusiasm, nevertheless.
When Link had woken in the Great Plateau, his mind was blank except for Zelda's pleading voice. She urged him onward, beckoning him toward Hyrule Castle. Her desperation was palpable, fueling his drive to keep going, to keep getting stronger and more powerful, to find and help her. It was behind every swing of his sword, every bunching of muscles as he strained and climbed, in the steady hammer of his heart against his ribs in rhythm with his heavy breathing as he ran – toward Zelda, always and forever.
Link's love for Zelda became more important than the oxygen in his lungs and the blood coursing through him and more powerful than the blessings from the Shrines and the Divine Beasts throughout Hyrule and the world. It was what picked him up after every staggering blow he took on a broken shield; what made him hold on extra tight on slippery rocks in the rain as he climbed through dangerous cliff faces; it was the last well of energy in him, searching for bugs in the grass, desperate for any kind of sustenance. As his journey toward Calamity Ganon continued and more memories revealed themselves, Link only became stronger, always buoyed by his growing love for Princess Zelda.
After the Calamity and Ganon's defeat, Zelda matured. She was more prone to seriousness, often staring off distantly, a new shadow dimming her blue eyes. Link had never been a Hylian of many words, before or after the Calamity, and he found himself doubly at a loss for what to say to Zelda when she was like this. She still studied for endless hours, as she did before, but there was less intensity in her research, lacking the excited babble as she explained a concept or fact to Link.
It was only when the gloom emerged from the castle, sapping vitality from those who contacted it, when Zelda threw herself into the investigation with the same enthusiasm and zeal from before the Calamity. Link hated the crisis in Hyrule, but he could not help but feel relieved glimpsing Zelda as herself again, eyes alight with passion as she explained something, pausing in the middle of one thought to dash off and find another reference, scribbling down notes.
Link himself was not much help in this part of the process. He'd listen and nod along to Zelda's musing and speculation, not offering much in feedback. Sometimes he'd reach for a book on a high shelf for her. He'd gently remind her to eat when servants brought trays of food and drape a blanket over her when she'd fall asleep over an open book.
Link waited because he knew his part was coming. The Master Sword at his back seemed to hum in anticipation, knowing Link would reach for it soon; the fingers of his sword hand ached oddly in response.
Finally, it came – Zelda looked up from her book. Link knew right away, recognized the command in her eyes before she could speak it. But Link waited, needing to hear it from her mouth first, relishing the sound of her voice. He prayed they never had to go back to being apart, where Zelda could only speak in his mind and by messages.
"I need you," Zelda said, and Link felt himself filling with purpose. He inhaled and inflated, his shoulders pulling back, his spine straight. Already, he felt stronger and more powerful just by her words alone. "We need to go below the castle and see what's there," Zelda continued, setting the book aside. "It might be dangerous."
She did not ask, Can you do this? because she did not need to; Link merely nodded, ready to go.
Below the castle, Link was glad to have the Master Sword back in his hand again. He was almost grateful when a group of bats appeared; he dispatched them easily, with a lazy swing of his sword. Even still, Zelda expressed concern, running to check on him; Link felt his heart fluttering from the unnecessary attention.
Zelda was more of her old self again, when they began to find evidence of another people and culture below the castle, exclaiming over each discovery. He watched her run back and forth between the panels of a great mural, her torchlight throwing each in bright relief against the shadows of the room, her voice in awe as she spoke.
Link did not fully understand the significance of the discovery, only knew that Zelda did.
Discovering the strange corpse below the castle made Link pause, but it was Zelda who approached, fearless as ever. Was she so confident because she was simply that brave, or did she know she had Link at her side, and he would always protect her? Link wondered but was not sure – either way, the result was the same: Link, with the Master Sword at the ready, waiting for any danger.
When the mummified corpse began to twitch and move, its limbs twisting at odd angles, Link felt an unusual pang of fear. The gloom that swelled and thickened around the corpse, shimmering both red and black at the same time, filled Link with an inexplicable sense of dread, heavy and hollowing deep into his guts.
It was not an active decision, then, when the corpse reached for Zelda and Link stepped ahead of her, meeting the gloomy darkness with the Master Sword. It was as instinctive as breathing, something he couldn't stop doing even if he tried, it was love, for Zelda, for the goodness and light she brought, and how much better the world was with her in it. He would not lose her to this darkness.
The gloom drained Link, his heart spasming with pain as he felt his vitality dwindling. It surrounded and consumed him, greedily gulping and demanding more. It crawled up his sword arm, the red shadows twisting and writhing through every muscle fiber and tendon, seeping throughout. As Link's vision dimmed, he thought of Zelda behind him; he could hear her voice in his ears but could not make out the words, only the high pitch of panic. With one last grunt, he pushed back against the gloom, his heart full to bursting with his thoughts of Zelda and his love for her.
The Master Sword shattered, throwing a spray of bright shards at the newly reanimated corpse.
The horror that followed – the corpse's terrifying rasp of a voice, its mockery of them and Link's sword; the gloom exploding all around them, flooding the sky; the world breaking and shattering apart; Zelda falling away into the endless darkness, reaching for him, their fingers only inches apart; his poisoned arm failing him in his most desperate moment; Zelda blinking out of existence in a bright, dazzling light, like a star in the sky.
It was enough to break any man, but Link had something that others did not, something that made his heart keep beating, his lungs still pumping, his nerves alive and crackling with purpose – Link loved Zelda, and she needed him. It made him push himself off the ground and stand to meet his mission.
Link would trade every limb, jump off the highest sky island, swim down to the deepest depths, scale the tallest cliff face. He would fight his way through a monster army, wading through blood and viscera, killing all who stood between Link and his princess.
Link would rescue Zelda, chasing her golden light through the world, because he loved her, and this was how he could show her.