Chapter 6

They reached Hateno late in the morning of the following day, life in the quiet town continuing on as normal in the wake of Ganon's defeat. Link retuned polite greetings to a couple of familiar faces as he turned off the main road, leading Zelda over a sturdy wooden bridge to the solitary house in a small clearing on the mountain's side. It was a modest-sized building with a shallow pond and two covered stalls beyond it, the structures still in good repair but obviously not used in a while. Link pulled Epona to a stop next to the stalls, dismounting and loosening the straps on the saddle.

"Is this where Purah lives?" Zelda asked as she dismounted, eyeing the house curiously as she stretched. Although a much faster form of travel than walking, after four days in the saddle it felt incredibly good to be off her horse's back.

"No, this is my house. I thought we could leave the horses here," Link grunted, pulling the heavy saddle from Epona's back and moving it to a wooden peg on the outside of the stall. "Purah's up at the top of the mountain. Bit of a walk, but I think we could both benefit from stretching our legs a bit," he continued, pointing to a roof with a plume of smoke rising from the chimney just visible beyond the rocky peaks.

"Your house?" Zelda repeated with some surprise. A pang of disappointment shot through her, which she quickly pushed away. Link had done what the Goddess had asked of him- why shouldn't he settle where he wished to live as he pleased? What right did she have to expect him to stay with her after she'd already taken so much from him?

"Yeah," Link confirmed distractedly, oblivious to the princess' thoughts as he ran a brush through Epona's sweat-soaked coat. "The previous owner supposedly reported to the castle for duty and never returned. I know it was a long shot, but if I used to live here, then I thought I might be able to remember something from my childhood. So I bought it."

That...was both comforting and heart breaking. She knew he had lost all his memories, but she hadn't fully appreciated exactly what that meant. Of course he wouldn't remember her or anything of their travels together before the Great Calamity, either the good or the bad. That was something she could help with. But his childhood? His family? His father was a member of the Royal Guard, but what of his mother? Did he have any siblings? Aunts, uncles, cousins? She didn't know. "And?" she prompted, hoping his hunch had paid off.

Link shrugged his shoulders. "It had already been gutted by then, any personal items and furniture long since gone," he explained, grabbing Epona's bridle as she finished the grass in front of her and started wandering away. "It didn't help with my memories, but it's not a bad house. I paid a local construction company to do some work on it, so it's livable as least." He moved to Epona's other side, keeping one hand on the reigns to keep her still while he continued brushing out her coat. "I don't suppose you know where I'm from?" he asked, sparing the princess a glance.

She should. She should have introduced him to the local leaders when they traveled to check on each champion's progress controlling their respective Divine Beast. Instead, she'd completely ignored his presence at her back, her petty anger at perceived injustices denying him even the common courtesy of an introduction. And now she couldn't even remember his family name, much less where he was from. "I'm sorry, no," she apologized, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast as shame burned through her.

Link nodded as if that was the answer he'd been expecting. "It probably wouldn't make much difference anyway. Even if the town survived the Great Calamity, it would have changed too much by now to help me remember anything," he continued, removing Epona's bridle and setting her loose before moving on to Aspen.

The swordsman's pragmatism was as comforting as it was humbling; more proof the man she'd known hadn't been lost entirely while at the same time making her feel unworthy of the absolution he gave without a second thought. While there may have been things between them for which she was blameless, this was not one of them. "You are too forgiving Link," she said, a bitter edge in her voice.

Link paused, his fingers stilling against the leather as he looked at the princess. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, head tilted in curiosity.

She could tell him. Tell him about the awful way she'd treated him when they first met and how because of that she couldn't even answer these basic questions for him. However he'd probably just forgive her again as he had when she'd finally apologized for her behavior back then, looking at her in confusion as he said she had nothing to apologize for. Someone needed to hold her accountable for this and if he wouldn't then she would do so in his place.

The knight was still waiting for an answer, so she shook her head. "Nothing, just thinking out loud again," she said, offering him a small smile. She hoped it didn't look as forced as it felt.

Link studied her for a few seconds longer, briefly debating whether to pursue the subject before dismissing it with a shrug as he continued untacking Aspen. If she didn't wish to share her thoughts, then he wouldn't pry.

Once their horses had been taken care of, they headed back into town. Zelda garnered a few curious glances although Link's purposeful stride discouraged anyone from stopping them to chat. It wasn't long before the houses gave way to pastures and farmland as they left the town proper. The road continued winding up the mountain, depositing them in front of the Ancient Tech Lab some twenty to thirty minutes later.

It looked like the original structure had started out as a lighthouse; a smaller building with an adjacent tower at the back over-looking the ocean on one side and the town on the other. A number of additions made it obvious it was no longer used as such, from the full sized but inactive Guardian draped over the tower to the larger-than-life telescope that stretched across the lower roof and a further ten to fifteen feet beyond, facing the castle far beyond the mountains.

A blue flame burned brightly in a furnace off to the side and the symbol of the Sheikah had been drawn on the door with a large frog guardian statue perched somewhat precariously on a wooden beam above it. Ropes and planks stretched over and supported everything, giving the entire structure a very ramshackle appearance. The whimsical glasses and umbrella tied to the frog over the door was the proverbial icing on the cake.

Zelda couldn't help but stare at the building as they approached, comparing it to the carefully planned and constructed Royal Ancient Lab in her memories. This seemed to be haphazardly thrown together, just waiting for a strong wind to send it all crashing down.

Link stepped onto the softly glowing travel gate in front of the door as Zelda gawked at the building, rapping his knuckles sharply against the wood. The princess had somewhat regained her composure by the time an older man answered the door. He was dressed in traditional Sheikah garb- cream colored pants and a loose-fitting jacket trimmed in red over a form fitting dark blue shirt, a matching sash holding the jacket closed at the waist. His white hair was pulled up in a high bun and his crimson eyes widened behind square-rimmed spectacles as he recognized the guest at his door.

"Link! Director, Link's here!" Symin called over his shoulder, a smile spreading over his face as he clasped the swordsman's hand. "We hadn't heard from you in so long we were beginning to fear the worst had happened."

"Sorry I haven't stopped by in a while," Link apologized, stepping inside as Symin opened the door for him. "I've been busy."

The lab smelled of old books; sturdy wooden shelves lining two of the walls filled with the dusty tomes with more stacked in the corners and piled on a desk. Ancient tech was scattered about the room; pieces from a guardian's leg providing a tripping hazard near the platform a guidance stone was set up on while trays of smaller parts- springs, shafts, gears and screws -were stacked haphazardly around the room. Various charts and diagrams were hanging on every bit of wall not covered by shelves or crates and countless sheets of paper covered in notes were strewn over every horizontal surface, including the floor.

An elderly woman was sitting at a table in the midst of the clutter, setting the papers she'd been examining aside when Symin announced they had company. "I'm sure everyone appreciates your tireless efforts, but it wouldn't hurt to send a letter every now and then to let us know you're not dead in a ditch somewhere," she chided, raising an imperious eyebrow at Link. Her white hair and red eyes marked her as another descendant of the Sheikah Tribe, as well as the traditional garb she wore. The mock annoyed expression fell from her face as Zelda entered behind the swordsman. "Princess," she breathed, eyes wide as she slowly stood and moved closer to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

"Purah? Is that you?" Zelda asked, smiling when she realized the old woman's glasses matched those on the frog statue outside.

Purah laughed as she nodded, closing the distance between them and hugging her tightly. "You did it!" she cried jubilantly, grinning from ear to ear. "You finally did it!"

"We did it," Zelda corrected, glancing toward her knight. "I'd still be in the castle fighting a losing battle were in not for Link battling the beast into submission."

"Yes, Link too," Purah agreed enthusiastically, releasing Zelda as she turned to grin at him as well. She chuckled at his befuddled expression, looking like he was trying to solve a difficult problem. "What's wrong, Link? It's over- you won! The Princess of Destiny and the Hero of Hyrule have triumphed over the Calamity, just like in olden times!"

"You're old," he stated bluntly.

"Link! That's incredibly rude!" Zelda reprimanded, aghast at both the insult and his lack of restraint in uttering it. He never would have said something like that before- was this a new trait of his or had that side of him merely been repressed in deference to her status? "Apologize at once!"

"She was just a child last time I was here!" he said defensively, gesturing at the old woman as if that explained everything.

Purah was still grinning, seemingly amused by the exchange. "Link, didn't you read my research journal?" she asked. "The entire incident was recorded in it, including the plans I had to reverse it."

"You told me not to read it!"

"And you actually listened to a six-year-old?" she chuckled. "I thought you had better sense than that!"

Link stared at her in disbelief before simply closing his eyes and turning away; as if he knew he couldn't win no matter what he said, so he wasn't even going to try.

Purah's smile only widened at his reaction. "Well, at least you had the good sense not to go spreading it around," she continued, her eyes sliding to the confused expression the princess wore.

"Perhaps you could explain it to me?" Zelda asked, wide eyes darting between the aged director and her knight. While the ever-present stoic mask that used to be Link's signature in the past was blissfully absent, any emotions she'd ever seen from him had always been muted, at best. To see him so openly flustered and indignant was a rather surreal experience.

"There's not much to tell, honestly. Just a failed experiment gone awry," Purah said off-handedly as she led Zelda back to the table, clearing off a chair and offering it to the princess. "Symin? Be a dear and make us some tea, would you?"

Symin, who had been discreetly trying to tidy up a bit, immediately set aside the box he'd been filling with scattered papers. "Right away, Ms. Purah," he answered, excusing himself with a slight bow.

"A failed experiment turned you into a...child?" Zelda asked, taking the seat offered her as Link leaned against the table on her other side. "What sort of experiment was it? And why would you test it on yourself?"

"I had to test it on myself because Symin wasn't feeling very adventurous at the time," Purah answered, turning her nose up as if her assistant refusing to be her personal guinea pig was an insult to her scientific genius. "I was trying to come up with a way to de-age a person- put them back in their prime physically. It seemed to work initially, if a little too well, but it turned out to only be temporary. The effects lasted for about two months before I returned to my proper age. De-aging wasn't bad, but I was bed-ridden for weeks after it wore off. Symin was downright insufferable too, never missing an opportunity to say, 'I told you so.'"

Zelda could scarcely believe her ears. "Symin was right! That was incredibly reckless!"

"Oh not you too, Princess," Purah sighed dramatically, completely unrepentant of her actions.

"You could have seriously injured yourself, or worse!" Zelda continued, leaning forward. "What possessed you to attempt something like that?"

The director's gaze became serious as it darted involuntarily to Link, who seemed to only be half paying attention to the conversation, before settling once more on the heir to the throne. "Well, this lab has lots of expenses but not much in the way of income," she explained, an impish smile lighting her features. "Selling youth would be a wonderful way to increase our revenue, don't you agree?"

Zelda's eyes narrowed as she studied the old woman. Purah was obviously trying to get a rise out of her, which meant she was hiding the real reason behind her self-experimentation. What could be so important to drive the researcher to such extremes? And what did it have to do with Link?

"Selling youth?" Link echoed, his gaze moving back to director once more. He'd been under the impression the ancient tech labs were researching ways to help combat the Calamity.

"I don't expect someone still in his prime to understand," Purah retorted, turning her nose up in mock disgust while giving him a sidelong glance. "Although I'd imagine you'd be singing a different tune had the Shrine not preserved you so perfectly," she said teasingly as she openly looked him up and down.

"I could only find two cups," Symin apologized as he walked back into the room, carrying a tray. "We don't have many visitors, I'm afraid."

Purah motioned him to serve their guests, her eyes still trained on the knight. "Anyway, it doesn't make much difference now. Not only did the rune fail to produce the desired results, it destroyed my Sheikah slate as well! It took me seven months just to get the materials to build another one! Complete waste of time and resources," she muttered deploringly, shaking her head.

Zelda sipped her tea in silence, letting the conversation flow around her as several things clicked into place in her mind. Purah had a very specific purpose when she set out to come up with a way to reverse a person's age, but it wasn't money. Had Link continued to age while healing in the Shrine, Hyrule's last hope would have been too old and decrepit to defeat the Calamity. Zelda wasn't sure what had spawned the director's fear; possibly the toll time had taken on her own body, or perhaps she thought the reason why Link had yet to appear was because he was too old to safely make his way off the Great Plateau. Whatever the reason, Purah clearly didn't wish to discuss it, though whether at all or just in front of Link, Zelda couldn't tell.

A sharp bark of laughter broke the princess out of her musings. She looked up to see Purah cackling- there was simply no other word for it -while Link pointedly took a long drink of his tea, his cheeks slightly flushed. Zelda smiled a bit uncertainly, wondering what she had missed.

She gently cleared her throat once it was clear neither of the other two would be continuing the previous vein of the conversation. "Are you still the leading expert on the Shrine of Resurrection?" she asked, jumping straight to the point of their visit.

"Yes. It may not have been in use for the last year, but no one can reach the Great Plateau to research it even if they wanted to," Purah answered, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her interlocking fingers. "Why? Don't tell me you already have need of it again?"

"I hope not," Zelda answered, feeling Link tense beside her. "Did you come across anything in your research that indicated memory loss might be a recurring problem?"

Purah blinked at the princess before turning her crimson gaze on the swordsman. "Do you periodically forget everything or just isolated incidents?" she asked.

"Just a few hours here and there," Link answered.

"And an entire day not a week past," Zelda interjected.

"And that," Link conceded reluctantly.

"So it's getting worse then?" Purah asked, forehead furrowing in thought when he nodded. "How long has this been happening?" she continued, shuffling through the papers near her in search of a blank sheet.

"...almost a year."

The director's eyes snapped back to Link in shock. The knight was idly swirling the remaining tea in his cup. "And you didn't think to mention this sooner?"

"I've been busy."

Purah snorted, her incredulous expression changing to one of stern disapproval. "Too busy to look after your own health? Single-minded determination can only get you so far, Link."

"I've managed alright up to now," Link retorted, his gaze hardening though he did not raise his eyes from the cup. His fear of being put back into the Shrine aside, the out-of-control Divine Beasts had been threatening entire cities in each region. His memory loss was a mere inconvenience by comparison.

Purah slid her fingers beneath her glasses, rubbing her eyes as she muttered about self-sacrificing idiots beneath her breath. "Well, you're here now," she sighed, continuing to shuffle through the sheets of papers scattered over the table. "Symin, would you- oh, for goodness' sake! The princess has seen more un-tidy work places that this!" she chided upon seeing her assistant again picking up spare parts from the floor. "Leave that be and go fetch me all the medical journals we have!"

"Yes Ms. Purah." Symin dropped the ancient parts he'd been gathering in a box and headed over to the shelves.

"Should have done this when he first showed up so we'd at least have a baseline to work with," the old woman mumbled to herself, sweeping the mess of papers to the side as she finally found a blank sheet. Setting it on the table, she moved over and started rummaging through a large trunk, still muttering beneath her breath.

Symin carefully placed three leather-bound books next to the paper as the director let out a cry of triumph. She moved back toward her guests, setting a few vaguely medical-looking instruments on the table. "Now then," she said, giving Link a sweet smile that raised the hair on the back of his neck. "Let's get started, shall we?"

It was evening by the time Purah was through with Link, pronouncing him healthy before kicking him and Zelda out of the lab so she could start preparing for the expedition to the Great Plateau. The princess hid a smile at the vulnerable hunch in Link's shoulders as he tightened his baldric and straightened his tunic, clearly uncomfortable with the examination. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked, trying to be supportive as her lips twitched traitorously.

Link simply gave her a look, his expression speaking volumes as he adjusted his shirt once more.

Zelda couldn't help the soft chuckle that slipped out. "Surely any healer you have visited has given you a similar examination," she said. Most of the tests were relatively routine from what she could remember.

"I've never been to a healer like that."

She couldn't believe her ears, staring at her companion in shock. "You have traveled all over Hyrule, from the snowy mountains to the desert sands and never once become ill?" she demanded, incredulous. "Fought hordes of moblins, Guardians and who knows what else, yet never sustained serious injury?"

"I get sick just like everyone else," Link said with a shrug. "A day or two of rest at an inn or my house is generally enough to get over it. And when I've needed stitches, the people sewing me up weren't concerned about anything but the cleanliness of the wound. Besides, I try to keep a few fairies or elixirs on hand for any serious injuries."

Zelda actually stopped walking, mouth hanging open slightly as she stared at her knight. Fairies were highly prized for their healing abilities and were incredibly rare, yet Link kept 'a few' on hand? It was clear the Goddess smiled very favorably indeed upon her chosen hero. She couldn't help but wonder if Link had any idea just how blessed he was.

The princess shook her head, putting that thought aside for later as she quickened her pace to catch up. "I can see why the examination might have made you uncomfortable, not knowing what to expect," she offered, bringing her focus back to the current topic.

"Are all the healers you've dealt with like that?" Link asked, his tightly folded arms belying a level of insecurity his voice did not. "Unable to keep their hands to themselves and commenting on every single thing?"

The princess blinked. Was that what was bothering him? He'd seemed mildly uncomfortable throughout the examination, but she'd been unable to pinpoint the source of his distress. None of Purah's teasing comments about the swordsman's physique had seemed too inappropriate at the time, nor had the physical touches been out of the ordinary from what Zelda could remember of her own experiences with the royal healer.

Perhaps Link was body shy? He'd never really struck her as such in the past, but he had always been fully clothed and a lot had changed since then as well. "I'm sure it varies from person to person," she said, her gaze wandering to the illuminated windows of the houses as they passed. She paused slightly as a dim recollection from a conversation long ago surfaced in her mind, offering a possible explanation for Purah's behavior. "I...think she may have been trying to get rise out of you," she admitted, biting her lip.

"Why?" Link asked confusion, glancing toward the princess. The last rays of light were fading from the sky as the stars took their place, Zelda's expression unreadable in the shadows of the night.

"That would be my fault, I'm afraid. You were always so stoic back then, never showing any emotion regardless of anything I said or did to get any type of response from you," Zelda said, absently twirling a bit of hair around her finger. "It drove me to distraction, never knowing what you thought of me- a daughter of the royal house unable to access the sealing power that was my birthright." She shook her head, banishing that line of thought. What had finally unlocked the sealing power was a topic best left for another time.

"Purah noticed the tension between us- not that I had even tried to conceal it -and asked me about it when I visited her lab. I vented some of my frustrations to her, indicating your lack of emotion was the root of the problem. She then took it upon herself to get an emotional rise out of you- unsuccessfully, as far as I know," Zelda finished, clasped her hands together. "I imagine it may simply habit at this point."

Link was silent for moment as he considered what she had told him. This wasn't the first time his stoicism had been brought up though he couldn't fathom why he might have acted that way, especially when it seemed to only cause problems for those around him. His gaze was drawn to the princess, wondering if she had ever discovered the reason behind his façade.

Zelda tried not to fidget as the silence stretched between them, feeling Link's gaze on her but not daring to look at him. "I am so sorry, Link. I should not have encouraged her, even back then-"

"Purah's an adult," Link interrupted, waving aside the apology. "She's old enough to know better. Her actions are not a reflection on you princess, nor do you need to make excuses for them. It...kind of feels like all you've been doing is apologizing," he continued, rubbing the back of his head. "Not everything everyone does is your fault. You know that, right?"

Zelda shook her head. "I am only apologizing about those things for which I share responsibility," she defended.

"It seems my actions share that responsibility too," he pointed out.

"You had your reasons," she said softly, idly playing with her hair once more. "You did not question any of my actions. I should not have questioned yours."

That sounded like she might have the answer he was looking for. "Do you know what those reasons were?" he asked, keeping his tone casual while surreptitiously watching her from the corner of his eye. He'd noticed that whenever they started talking about the past, her mood always seemed to take a negative turn and she'd end up apologizing for something before the conversation was through.

Zelda seemed surprised by his question, glancing at him with wide eyes before her expression softened in understanding. "It is difficult to be the chosen of the Goddess," she began, running her hand along the rail of the small bridge in front of the inn as they crossed over it. "Even before the Great Calamity, every eye in the kingdom was watching your every move. You told me the Master Sword was viewed as a beacon of hope and as its wielder you could not be anything less. To that end you stopped expressing yourself outwardly, ever maintaining a stoic countenance no matter the situation."

Link hummed thoughtfully, seeing the wisdom in his decision so long ago. People often under-estimated him because of his height, slight build or (apparent) age. From exhibiting his mastery of the bow at the Flight Range to retrieving the Gerudo heirloom from the Yiga Clan's hideout, he'd had to prove his skills again and again to those all over the country. If that was the price of a mere traveler helping people- for free -he couldn't imagine the demands that would have been made of the bearer of Evil's Bane to prove his worth. He couldn't afford to show any weakness and would have had to been viewed as something just as inhuman- if not more so -than the beast itself to give the people any hope in his ability to triumph over the Calamity.

Unfortunately it seemed his plan had failed when it came to the one he'd sworn to protect. "Did my opinion really matter than much to you?" he asked, leading them off the main road and toward his house. "What few memories I've regained are a bit jumbled but there's a couple where you clearly hold me in contempt. Why would you care what I thought?"

"I suppose you could say I was jealous," Zelda admitted with a sigh. "You were a prodigy in combat from a young age and had no problem drawing the Master Sword from its pedestal when the time came. You seemed to fulfill your role so effortlessly while I was no closer to unlocking my power after ten years of training." She gave him a sad smile, shrugging helplessly. "I could not understand why the Goddess would smile so favorably upon you while continuing to turn a deaf ear to my pleas. Convincing myself you despised me allowed me to pretend the feeling was mutual instead of admitting my resentment stemmed from envy."

Urbosa had told Link long ago that the princess was reminded of her failure every time she saw the sword on his back, but he'd had no idea his silence had played so large a part in their strained relation. "I'm sor-"

"No Link! Don't you dare apologize for that!" Zelda said sharply, whirling to face him. "Especially not after the way I treated you those first few months!"

Link blinked in surprise, taken back by the strong reaction to his attempted apology. It seemed Zelda was determined to carry all the blame herself, which didn't sit well with him at all. "My actions played a part in this as well, whether you admit it or not," he stated, refusing to let her take sole responsibility. "If I couldn't see how much my silence was hurting you, then I probably deserved what I got."

Zelda was already shaking her head, long golden tresses swaying across her back. "No one deserves that," she objected, her gaze dropping to the ground. "You have no idea how truly awful I was to you, Link."

One of the memories he'd regained flashed across his mind: Zelda glaring at him, voice raised and face pinched in anger as she yelled at him for doing his job. He could well imagine what those first few months might have been like using that as a template. However he also had a few memories where they were on much better terms, so they must have reconciled at some point. Why was she still holding on to that guilt? Or had he never actually forgiven her in the first place?

Their footsteps echoed hollowly as they stepped onto the wooden bridge, moonlight illuminating the stucco walls of the house beyond. The night brought a chill with it, a cool breeze rustling their clothing and hair while sending a wave of goose bumps over the exposed flesh of their arms. Link opened the door for Zelda, plunging them both into darkness as he closed it behind him. He debated the best way to phrase what he wanted to say as he groped for the flint and steel he kept on a small shelf next to the door before moving to light the lamps hanging over the table.

Zelda remained where she was as she heard Link shuffling around, wincing in sympathy at the solid thunk of flesh hitting wood followed closely by a pained grunt from her knight. She listened to the scrape of a chair's legs as it was pulled out, the thud of boots climbing onto its seat, metal clinking as a lantern was jostled overhead. Her eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness as Link hopped off the chair, his faint outline barely visible in the reflected light spilling in from an unseen window. Sparks flew as flint and steel were struck together, the lantern's wick catching and illuminating the room with its feeble light.

An empty bookcase was situated just to the right of the door, an old out-of-place looking trunk at its side. A sturdy wooden table with four chairs sat in the middle of the room, several un-lit lanterns hanging from the rafters above it. A number of weapon displays were mounted on the walls, show-casing a variety of different armaments. A small kitchen was tucked away in the far corner opposite a set of stairs leading to the loft. A couple of wooden crates were just visible poking out of the darkness beneath the stairs.

Despite the furniture filling the modest area, the house felt barren. The walls were free of any decoration or art; the shelves empty of any sort of knick-knacks or personal effects one might gather while traveling the country. It felt more like a storage room than a home and Zelda wondered how much time Link actually spent here.

The man in question replaced the lantern on its hook but did not immediately reach for the next one. "I would ask a favor of you, if you'd allow it princess," he stated, his serious blue eyes meeting Zelda's clear green.

"If it is within my power, you have but to ask," Zelda replied without hesitation. "The kingdom owes its very existence to you."

Link dipped his head in acknowledgment, not breaking eye contact. "It is within your power, though I fear it will be a difficult thing for you to do," he warned.

"Whatever you wish, it is yours," Zelda assured him, brow furrowing slightly in curiosity even as bands of anxiety tightened around her chest. Link had been so selfless in the past, never accepting any sort of reward for fulfilling his duties. She couldn't even begin to guess what compensation he might ask for now.

"To be honest, I remember very little of the past," Link began, his eyes drifting to the weapons of the champions of old hanging on the wall. "I've spent most of this last year in its shadow, trying to find any remnants of who I used to be without knowing where to look, or making reparations for injustices I don't remember." His eyes lingered on the Lightscale Trident before returning to the princess. "I've decided that it doesn't matter who I was then- people grow and change all the time and most of those I used to know are long-since dead. I...want to start over."

Zelda did her best to keep her expression smooth as the anxiety crushing her chest made it difficult to breathe. Was he trying to sever ties with her? She couldn't blame him after everything that happened, but it still felt like a betrayal. Her world had revolved around him for so long, waiting for the day he would awaken and free her from her stalemate with the Calamity, that she couldn't imagine a life without him in it. What was she supposed to do now? "I understand," she lied, forcing the words out past the lump in her throat. However painful, she had to hear it from him directly. She took a deep breath. "What do you need from me?"

"I want you to stop apologizing for things that I don't remember."

Zelda blinked. Then she blinked again. That was it? He wasn't going to explain how he wanted to settle down here and lead the life of a farmer before politely asking her to leave? Or perhaps traveling the country suited him better but he couldn't do so while being burdened with her? She quieted her own thoughts when she realized Link was still talking, trying to focus on his words.

"I know there's a lot of history between us, both good and bad," he was saying, glancing away as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You seem determined to take full responsibility for all the bad and I just don't remember enough to argue one way or another." He dropped his hand, bringing his gaze back to Zelda's. "Things happened back then, and maybe mistakes were made, but I think both of us did the best we could at the time. If it was my fault, I don't remember what I did and I don't know how I could make amends for it now. If it was your fault, I think you've carried the guilt long enough."

Zelda turned away, pretending to study the short bookcase next to the door as relief coursed through her. Link wasn't asking her to leave, merely to stop making the conversation awkward whenever the past came up.

As with many of his actions over the last couple days, this both encouraged and worried her. Forgiving everything between them was so like the man she'd known in the past that she wondered how she could have ever doubted him. However just suggesting such a thing to her showed a level of boldness her knight would never have even dreamed of approaching, highlighting the difference between who he was and who he had become with startling clarity. She had once been able to read the minute changes in his seemingly emotionless face. Now she never knew what would come out of his mouth next.

"Very well," she said, turning back toward Link. "I shall do as you ask." Despite his words, it was a rather simple favor he'd requested. Not verbalizing an apology was different from letting go of the guilt. That was not something that could be accomplished nearly so easily. Fortunately, her knight had left her a loophole to exploit in the meantime. "To that end, I'll need to know everything you remember, so I know what all I can and cannot discuss."

It only took Link a few seconds to realize where he'd gone wrong with his request, briefly closing his eyes as he let out short huff. Apparently he hadn't chosen his words carefully enough. Still, two could play at that game. "Hm, what I can remember..." he repeated, folding his arms across his chest and staring at the floor as if in deep thought. "Nope, can't remember a thing."

"You said you had a few memories only a moment ago," Zelda objected.

"Did I?" Link asked, feigning surprise. "Well, what can I say? They say the memory is one of the first things to go and I have it on good authority that I'm over 100."

Zelda stared at him for several long seconds before letting out a short laugh. "You really are incorrigible, aren't you?" she asked, shaking her head.

Link shrugged, unrepentant. "I wouldn't have been able to come this far if I gave up so easily," he stated, reaching for the next lantern.

"No, I suppose not," she agreed, a myriad of memories show-casing Link's stubbornness and tenacity flashing across her mind. From following behind a head-strong princess who was adamant she didn't need an escort to fighting against an army of guardians to what would have surely been his death in defense of the same, the swordsman didn't seem to know the meaning of the word 'surrender.' Zelda watched him set flame to the wick, her words too soft to reach his ears. "You never did know when to quit."

To Be Continued

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