And you guys thought it was over.

I was a little surprised at you. Why would I go and do that when there's so many more feels to be had? I haven't destroyed you nearly enough yet.
Apologies for the wait, but my laptop for some reason thought it would be okay to die on me right after I posted the last chapter, the little shit. But on the bright side, or the not-bright side, depending on your mindset, there's only one more chapter after this, to be followed by the epilogue. Besides the alternate endings, that is, which will come out whenever they get done. I have two planned, now, just for funsies.

Oh, and before I forget—leave me any questions you might have, about this story or otherwise, in a review or a PM. I'm hoping to do a Q&A at the very end, to clear anything that needs clearing up. So there's that, too!

Hope you enjoy the chapter!

~Alyssa

PS: Shoutout to Chris Tomlin's rendition of 'Amazing Grace', which got me through the 'now' portion of this chapter. Take the time and put it on while you read that part. I realized how scarily accurate the lyrics were to Nox's situation, and I couldn't turn it off after that. So do it if you want, if you don't, you're missing out ;)

Numquam satis tua dilectio.
….

Your love was never enough.

ox(O)xo

Yelling.

When Archer awoke from his sleep, it was the only thing he could register.

Frantically, all around him, men were running, yelling, chaotically throwing on their gear and shaking their comrades awake, all signs that something had gone completely, horribly wrong.

"The Queen!" Someone shouted to his left as he leaped out of bed, hastily pulling on his boots and grabbing his mail from his bedside, snapping it into place. He looked around once, twice.

The Sheikah, Wolfe, Nox, Kyn, were nowhere to be found.

He cursed underneath his breath, pushing past two men blocking the threshold.

More people. Impossible numbers of men, all packed together in the narrow halls, shoving and screaming and scrambling all around, throwing him against the walls as he desperately searched for a familiar face. "The Queen is dead!" He heard, and then, "The King is gone!"

Ice filled his veins. Was the Castletown under attack? Was his family, tucked away in the heart of the city, in danger? Had the enemy broken into the castle?

And for the love of all three Goddesses, where was Kyn?

He silently cursed himself for not thinking to grab a weapon as he worked his way through the tide, ears open for any hint as to what was happening.

"The Queen is dead!"

"Ring the bells!"

"Close the gates!"

"Her own guard!"

"Be at arms!"

"The King is dead!"

"No one to trust!"

His mind was dancing at what they meant when suddenly, a streak of very familiar brown hair streaked by him. Archer grabbed at it like a lifeline.

"Wolfe!" He let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, gripping his arm like it was his salvation. "Farore, what the Hell is going on?!"

Wolfe looked up, and the expression on his face was a stab in the gut.

"No." Archer whispered, "No. Was it Baxter or Zenith? Garrett? The baby? Don't just stand there and look at me, dammit, what happened to—"

"Archer." He breathed, and in his eyes, the worst was confirmed. But he said it out loud anyway. "It was Nox."

"Wha—"

"Nox." He whispered, looking very much like he was trying hard not to cry. Archer, suddenly, was trying to hold back tears himself. "He did this."

He didn't say anything else. He didn't have to. There was an unspoken agreement, a mutual resolve, as he tossed him a sword.

A pact, as they slipped by the dozens of frantic guards raising every alarm the system had, through the deserted corridors and empty stairs, careful not to raise anyone's suspicions. That is, until they reached the entrance to the dungeons, until the mouth of the darkness swallowed them into anonymity.

It was then that they took off running.

ox(O)xo

Then

All there was was darkness.

I was sitting on the ground with my back against what I supposed was a wall, a heavy shackle keeping my wrists and ankles tightly bound. There was a barred window just to my left, up so high that I hadn't even a hope of reaching it, letting in a tiny sliver of moonlight that illuminated a slice of the dirty stones. Otherwise, the monotonous, ordinary cell gave no indication of where—or when—I was.

"Hello?" I called out, and my voice was hoarse, so weak it was barely above a whisper.

No response. Only the dripping of water against the flagstones and the scuttling of rats.

I coughed once in an attempt to clear my throat, trying again. "Is anyone there?" I asked, my voice a bit stronger. Something felt wrong about saying it though. Something…peculiar tugged at the edge of my mind. Like I was reading off a script, like the words that came from my mouth weren't…mine.

For a moment, there was nothing. But then, rather suddenly, a pair of eyes appeared outside the heavy bars of my cell, the crimson irises burning fire into me.

Déjà vu tore through my insides like a rusty knife, and faster than I could even comprehend what was happening I shot up.

"Zelda?" I croaked, scrambling on all fours back into the depths of my cell as far as my chains would allow. No. No it couldn't be Zelda, because Zelda was dead. I knew, because I had killed her. I watched the light leave her eyes and her last breath rattle in her chest, still and silent and absolutely, irreversibly gone forever.

But if she was dead, then who was it standing outside my cell?

My question was answered by a humorless chuckle, a splintering, empty sound that caused my head to spin.

"Farore. You really are crazy." The voice of Archer said. And then he struck a match.

Light ripped through the darkness, and I flinched away from it, blinded by the illumination.

"Archer?" I whispered, part confusion, part a relief so palpable I could taste its sweetness on my tongue. Zelda was dead. She was dead, and she was never coming back, and I would never have to look into those lying eyes of hers ever again.

At the mention of his name, his lips pulled up into a grim smile, fishing something small and thin out of his pocket. "We're here to break you out." he said, sticking it into the keyhole of my cell and beginning to jimmy it around.

"That's not how you do it." muttered a voice from behind him in the shadows. A tanner set of hands pushed his out of the way, taking the object and replacing him at his task and it became apparent why Archer had used the plural.

Of course Wolfe would be here too.

So busy were the shambles of my mind working this meaningless detail out that it took several more seconds to comprehend exactly what they were doing in the first place.

"Wait."

They both looked up. Archer's brow furrowed.

"What do you mean, wait?" He asked, the urgency in his tone clear as a bell. "You realize they're planning on executing you at dawn?"

They were going to kill me.

Of course they were.

I was her trusted guard, her shield against her foes. She put her life in my hands, stupidly, stupidly, and now she—and her husband, both—were dead. Murdered. With no children, no heir to pass down the Royal Family's line. I ended a dynasty.

What else would they do, send me off on my merry way with a slap on the wrist and a scolding?

"I know." I told him, because I did. I always had. "Didn't you?"

Archer sighed. "Listen. We've only got about four hours to get you out of here and over the border to Termina. This isn't the time for small talk, Nox—"

"Link." I corrected gently.

"What?"

"My name." I clarified helpfully. "It's Link. Not Nox."

"For the love of—" He bit his lip, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly between his fingers. "He's lost it." He said, exasperated, to Wolfe, then turned back to me. "Listen. I've known you for thirteen years. You were eight years old, remember? I was ten. Since the very first day I've known you, your name has been Nox. I called you Nox last night at dinner, and you seemed perfectly content with it then. What changed in the last twenty-four hours?"

"I was lying." I smiled, because it was the truth. I was telling him the truth. Archer knew, Wolfe knew, soon everyone would know. My name, my name, my name. It was Link. Not Nox.

He growled, a low, angry sound, but I didn't understand why. Didn't he want to be told the truth?

I opened my mouth to ask him, but before I could, there was a small click, and the door to my cell creaked open with a cry. Wolfe grinned triumphantly.

"Score one," he muttered under his breath, crouching down beside me and grabbing my arms, starting to work on the chains.

"No," I pulled them away, out of the reach of his little metal tool. "Stop."

Wolfe sighed lightly. "I understand you've had a long night, but is there a part of 'they're going to execute you at dawn' that you're not grasping?" He asked.

"I told you I know." I frowned. "That's what I want. I want to die. I'm ready to die. There's nothing left for me here."

Archer bit his lip. "Don't be absurd, No—"

"Link!" I corrected again, much more forcefully. Why didn't he understand that Nox was dead and I was Link? That I had always been Link? I already told him and he should remember. I shouldn't have to keep reminding him.

"Fine." He said, and then he began to tremble. "Fine, Link. If you want to kill yourself over some insane delusion that the Queen was in love with you once upon a time, you want Baxter and Garrett and Zenith and Kassia and Linden to have to watch when you get executed in the public square, by all means. Go ahead. Do it, you selfish bastard. I can't save you from yourself."

And then he threw the door to my cell open again, slamming it again the cobbled stones, a flurry of rust trailing in his wake.

"Archer, where the Hell do you think you're going?" Wolfe demanded, making a grab for his arm, but his fingers only closed around air.

Archer whirled back around, and there were trails of wetness running down his cheeks. "If he's going to die, fine. But I will not stick around and watch him do it."

And without sparing me another glance, he was gone.

Wolfe swore under his breath, turning to me again. "He doesn't mean that, you know." He said quietly. "He's hurt. He doesn't understand…well, to be honest, I don't understand. But it's your life. Your choice." He paused. "I'm sure he'll come back, if you give him some ti—"

"No he won't." I whispered, shaking my head. "Nox isn't here. What he's looking for is gone."

His brow furrowed. "But where did he go? Help me understand, so I can help you."

"I don't need help!" I yelled, and he winced at the noise, looking over his shoulder into the darkness. "I need to go home. I need to be with her. If she's gone, then I'll be gone, too."

Didn't he get it? There was nothing left for me, without her. I was done with the world, without her in it. I needed to follow her, where she went. How did they not understand that the people, with their cries of execution, were giving me a gift? To join her, to finally be with her, forever?

"N—Link." He grimaced once at his falter, taking a breath. "I don't care what you call yourself. I don't care who you are, or who you were. You're my brother. You saved my life. And if you're not going to let me save yours…" He faltered, shaking his head back and forth. "At least…at least tell me why. Why did you do this? What happened to you?"

What happened to me, he wanted to know.

The first time that someone had ever asked…had ever cared who I was, or what was done to me. The first time I would ever be able to tell the whole story, from beginning to end…and the last time, if what they had told me was right.

Someone had to know, before I died. My story would not, could not, die with me.

And when they heard it, they would know. All of them would know. Finally, they would realize who I was; Link, the Hero of Time. And maybe…maybe once they heard that this was what I wanted…it would make it hurt a little less once I was gone. This would be their closure as well as mine, and who was I to refuse them such a gift, when they had given me one all those years ago?

Nox was dead, but just because I didn't miss him didn't mean other people didn't.

Steeling my courage, I took a deep breath.

Closing my eyes, I let it out.

And then I began.

"…I am not crazy. Not like they think I am."

ox(O)xo

Now

"Which leads us to now."

The early rays of morning sunlight were coming through the crack in my cell when I finished my tale, hands folded neatly in my lap as I waited for him to respond. His silence as I spoke, not once interjecting the entire time I told him my story, was almost unnerving. He only looked at me with considering eyes, not one muscle on his face betraying an emotion that would deter me from speaking.

But now, he opened his mouth, considering his words.

"Which leads us to now." He agreed, standing up and dusting off the bottom of his breeches. "And look at that." He pointed out the sliver of a window. "You're sure you're okay with that being the last sunrise you ever see? It's not too late to run. We could do it, I know we—"

"I'm sure." I smiled, patting his knee—the only part of him I could reach. "I have to do this. You understand."

He nodded. "I do understand. I understand more than you know. Your entire world being ripped apart…the person you love taken away from you, just like that…waking up and realizing that it would never be the same again…"

"You lost your sister." I murmured, and he nodded again.

"Her name was Hadlea." He said. "Her favorite color was white, and she loved the snow most of all. My mother died when we were born, you see, and our father wasn't the most compassionate of men…but when we went out in the snow, she would make a snow family of the four of us, and play with our parents like nothing was ever missing. She used to look up at the moon and pretend it was our mother, and talk to her when she was lonely. She was smart and brave and sweet and genuine…and my sister. I loved her more than anything. She was the only one that would say my name like I wasn't a bother or a disappointment, like I actually meant something to someone in the world…and when she was gone, I never wanted to hear anyone say my name ever again."

He down at me, his eyes meeting mine. "But since you told me yours, I suppose it's only fair that I tell you mine."

"Well, if you put it like that—"

"Odion." He interrupted, and then his eyes averted to the door of my cell again. "My name is Odion. And now you're the only one alive besides me who knows who I am."

"And you're the only one who knows who I am." I replied. "And now it's your job to let the others know, to make them understand. Kassia especially, do you promise?"

"I promise." Wolfe looked down at me, a small smile gracing his lips. "You're the bravest person I know, you know that?" He laughed then, as humorless as the sound was in light of the occasion. "When I grow up, I want to be just like you."

"No," I shook my head, grinning. "Don't do that."

He leaned down, taking one of my freezing hands in his. "No promises." He whispered, giving it a squeeze, and turning to go. "Goodbye, Link."

My grin grew into a smile at the sweetness of the sound. Link. He called me Link, because that was who I was. "Goodbye, Odion."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, as he walked out of the cell, as he closed the door and bolted it shut with a reverberating clank that rang with finality, as he walked down the hallway and away towards freedom…

But he didn't.

And I was left alone again.