AN: Hello, my dear readers! I will save my final comments for the epilogue, but I wanted to drop in and say thank you for your patience as I struggled to complete this final installment. Has it been too long for me to say I hope it's worth the wait? D:
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— TRUST —
Snowflakes drifted about the rooftops of Castletown, illuminated in the glows of lanterns that lined the market square. They settled on every shop and stall, every tree, shrub, and garland, coating the town in a fresh blanket of white. A festive cheer permeated the crisp, winter air, chasing away the cold with music and laughter from cozy homes and lively establishments.
How wrong it was, Zelda thought as she tightened the blanket around her shoulders, to gaze upon something so warm and lovely yet feel so cold and gloomy inside.
Of course, her gloom had little to do with the scene below and everything to do with the man beside her—or more the gift he had given her that night.
He had planned it for weeks, presenting his idea only after the arrangements had been made. At first she refused, certain that she could not afford to jeopardize her reputation—not to mention her obligation to another man. But Link persisted, describing his many precautions and promising that none would recognize her once Impa had assisted with her disguise. Eventually Zelda found herself quite unable, or perhaps unwilling, to deny him.
And thus she agreed to sneak into Castletown for a Solstice Eve celebration, posing as a simple village girl for one memorable night of freedom.
She would never regret her choice, but she had not fully anticipated how crushing it would feel to end their excursion. That hour drew painfully near, and what had started as a wondrous escape felt more like a painful fantasy...
The touch of warm fingers disrupted her melancholy, brushing away a tear on her cheek. Zelda blinked, and the hand withdrew as she quickly dried her face. She meant to assure Link that she was fine, but a pressure remained stuck in her throat, bringing more tears before she could blink them away. Again she wiped both sides of her face, avoiding his concerned gaze with a frustrated sigh.
Then his hand moved to her lower back, inviting her closer if she wished it. At first she tried to resist, knowing that the more she let him in, the harder it would be to let him go. But the larger part of her caved, knowing she was long past that point.
So she leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder as he wrapped her in the spare folds of his blanket. She focused on the strength of his arms around her, the comforting weight of his head resting against hers. Neither felt a need to speak, unwilling to ruin the moment with mournful wishes or empty reassurances.
Instead, Zelda tried to recall every detail of her experience that night, hoping to preserve the memory in perfect clarity. She thought about the warm welcome she received from Clef and Siena, the delicious food and hot cider they had served to ease her nerves and rouse her spirits. She could still hear the festive music mingling with laughter and song. She could see Link smiling as he danced with her, never missing a step as they moved in time with the others...
A bell tolled in the distance, breaking Zelda's reverie with the midnight chime. A faint chorus of cheers sounded below as merrymakers toasted their friends and kissed their beloved. Link made no move to partake in that tradition, no doubt unsure she would welcome it in her dreary state.
Determined not to rob him of a proper end to their perfect night, Zelda pushed her sorrow down as deeply as it would go. Then she lifted her head from his shoulder and steeled herself beneath his gentle gaze.
"...Happy Solstice, Link," she whispered, bringing a hand to his cheek.
He smiled at her, despite the sadness mirrored in his eyes.
"Happy Solstice, Zelda."
Then he leaned in close, his nose brushing hers before she eagerly closed the gap. Their blankets fell in a heap about their feet, forgotten as they commemorated the moment long after the chimes had faded.
xXx
Zelda kept a firm grip on Shayne's little hand as they walked the bustling market of Castletown. The boy seemed determined to break away from her, always pulling her toward crowded stalls packed with toys, flowers, and other colorful wares. Zelda gently denied him each time, regretting their inability to browse like ordinary people. The townsfolk would not recognize her without fine gowns or jewels, and Shayne was rarely seen in public, but Zelda preferred to draw as little attention as possible. She had left the castle for a reason, and her destination was near.
Aside from their humble appearances, Zelda had taken additional precautions, including a spell that hindered recognition. Captain Ian also escorted them from a short distance, disguised as a simple, weatherworn traveler. Zelda was glad to feel his watchful eyes on her back—for her benefit as well as Shayne's. After living mostly in seclusion since her accident, she found herself feeling uneasy beyond the castle walls.
Her destination stood in the heart of Castletown—a high class, three story inn. Above the door hung a polished sign with a mythical red bird, its long tail twisting about the inn's name in elegant gold script: The Red Phoenix.
Quickly Zelda pulled the brass handle and ushered Shayne inside, glad to shut out the market noise behind them. A large ornate desk stood before them, decorated with fresh flowers and a welcome sign. To Zelda's right stood a grand stairway winding up all three levels of the inn. A large dining area opened to her left, packed with tables and lined with tall, polished windows. No more than a dozen people occupied the room, some enjoying a drink or small meal, others conversing in hushed tones. A massive, unlit fireplace stood in the far corner, surrounded by plush armchairs. On the opposite wall Zelda glimpsed the end of a polished bar, a reminder of how lively the Phoenix became around suppertime.
Zelda knew she had been to the Phoenix many times, but she could only recall one visit. Bright flames had blazed in that fireplace, illuminating the crowded room and warming its merry guests. Evergreen garlands had lined the walls, dressed in golden bells with ribbons of silver and blue...
Click.
The entrance door softly closed behind her. Zelda blinked and tightened her hold on Shayne's hand, turning to see Ian take a seat nearby. Shayne gave him a small wave, which Ian discreetly returned as he surveyed the room beneath his hood.
Then, as if on cue, the door behind the front desk swung open to reveal a petite woman wearing a bright red dress with a crisp white apron. Her blond curls had been pinned back, leaving some shorter locks to frame her pretty face.
"Good afternoon, ma'am, and welcome to the Phoenix," she greeted Zelda in a pleasant tone. "If you need lodging I have a lovely room overlooking the market. Two large feather beds—very comfortable. Or perhaps you'd like a hot meal for you and the little one?"
She glanced down at Shayne—then froze when she recognized his amused face. Zelda smiled as well, letting her spell dissipate as Siena's eyes flicked back to her.
"Oh, it's you," she breathed, pressing a hand to her heart. "Sisters above, for a moment I thought..."
"Hi, Auntie Siena," Shayne said, lifting his free hand to wave at her.
The woman beamed at him, leaving her place behind the counter to greet him properly.
"Why, hello, sweetheart—how good of you to visit!" She knelt down to clasp his tiny hand. "Goodness, it's been far too long! Connor and Rosie will be so happy to see you—would you like to go play with them while I bring you some treats?"
The boy nodded eagerly, and Siena rose to usher Zelda to the nearby staircase.
"Head to the top floor and take the door on the right. There's a hallway behind it, and there you'll find the children in the last room on the left. I'll join you once I have our trays brought up."
"Oh, Siena, you don't need to bother with that—"
"Nonsense. You are my guest, and I'm happy to do it. Go on; I'll be just a minute."
Zelda thanked her and gathered her skirt in one hand, careful not to slip as she guided Shayne up the stairs. At the top they took the right door and found the hallway just as Siena described. A door stood open at the far end, and there they found Rosie and Connor, the two youngest Bard children. They greeted Shayne with enthusiasm, showing him their newest toys and inviting him to play.
Zelda lingered in the doorway, happy to watch her son reunite with his friends. His delight was obvious as they explained their game, and within minutes his shyness had left him. Zelda's heart swelled as he laughed and played along, and privately she vowed to spare him the loneliness she had known in her childhood.
That was, until Link came along…
The sound of soft footsteps drew her attention down the hallway, where she saw a young woman carrying a large tray of dishes with pastries and a steaming pot of tea. Siena followed behind her with another tray of cookies and milk for the children.
"I'll leave the doors open so we can keep an eye on them," Siena assured Zelda as they stood in the doorway, watching the children enjoy their treat. "But this area belongs to my family, and the door to the stairway is locked. No one will disturb us."
Zelda followed her into the sitting room across the hall—only to freeze the moment she stepped inside.
This room…
It was a lovely place, tastefully decorated with paintings, pictographs, fresh flowers, and other treasures collected over the years. A small dining table had been placed by a large window, complete with three matching chairs. Two sofas and a large armchair sat on the opposite side of the room, next to a grand fireplace. Toward the back stood a pair of glass doors which opened to a balcony overlooking the market square. There Siena kept a garden of colorful flowers, various herbs, and shrubs in massive pots.
Beautiful though it was, Zelda was stunned to see the place so transformed in summertime daylight. The room she remembered had been dark, lit only by a cozy fire, and the bare balcony held a fresh layer of snow.
"...something the matter?"
Zelda blinked, then noticed Siena standing by the table with a concerned look.
"Yes, I'm sorry; I was… lost in my thoughts."
Quickly she moved to join her friend at the table, where they both settled into opposite chairs.
"What a lovely spread," Zelda said with a smile. "I hope this isn't an inconvenience; I tried to come at a time you might be less busy…"
"Oh, you did well—our midday rush just ended. But you are welcome anytime, and I can always come to you."
Zelda shook her head. "It's such a production when I receive guests. I just wanted a private, casual conversation—without any consequential gossip."
Siena nodded, taking a moment to fill their teacups. "So how are you?" she asked in a softer tone. "I have so many questions. The last time I saw you was…"
"Uncomfortable," Zelda sighed. "I know. That's one of the reasons I'm here. I want to apologize for my behavior that night."
Siena gave her a puzzled look. "Please, there's no need to apologize. I didn't know how little you remembered, and seeing you like that… Well, I suppose it caught me off guard. Link had said you might not remember me, but I suspect that was something of an understatement…"
Zelda shook her head. "I am sorry about that. Link and I have disagreed on how… forthcoming we should be, even with our closer friends."
"No need to apologize. Both of you have been through a traumatic event… May I ask how serious it is?"
Zelda hesitated, unsure how much she should say. She had been so eager to visit Siena—the thought of discussing transparency with Link first had failed to enter her mind.
We trusted her with our secret back then, she reminded herself. Surely we can trust her now.
"After my accident," she said slowly. "I fell into a deep sleep that lasted for days. It was rather serious, as Link might have told you. When I did finally wake, I found that I could not recall the last twenty years of my life."
Siena stared at her, clearly stunned.
"Then… your memories of Link…"
"Gone. He was like a stranger to me. And I'm only beginning to understand how painful everything has been for him."
Zelda lowered her gaze, stirring her tea as she pondered all the ways she had neglected Link's feelings, all the frustration they both failed to communicate. With a pang of guilt she recalled their cold exchange during the banquet, their heated argument in the library…
I've been so childish, expecting him to move on when I wanted it, wallowing in self-pity all the while….
"Zelda, I'm so sorry… I had no idea…"
Siena trailed off, reaching across the table to take her hand. "I'm sure it's been very painful for both of you. If I had known…"
Zelda shook her head, eager to lighten the mood.
"Don't be sorry. Link and I… we've struggled through this, yes, but things have greatly improved since you last saw us—partly because my memories have begun to return."
Siena gaped at her, amazed. "What? Have they really? That's wonderful… How much do you remember, if I may ask?"
"A great deal, actually. In fact, I remember the night you and I first met."
Siena's face softened in brief recollection, then brightened with a smile. "The night Link brought you to our Solstice party… Goodness, it feels like ages ago…"
"I was so nervous about it… But you and Clef were so good to us. So kind and welcoming…"
"And you were so sweet—but yes, I could tell you were nervous!" Siena chuckled. "Terrified of being recognized, even though you didn't look a thing like yourself. Fortunately a little holiday brew helped with those jitters. You were merrymaking with the rest of us before long—and you learned the dances so quickly! And Link too—I had never seen him dance until that night!"
Zelda beamed, remembering how freeing it had felt to hook arms with strangers and follow their lead, joining in their laughter whenever someone stumbled. Not once had Link left her side, even as she found the courage to join in the more difficult dance numbers, when fewer couples took to the floor and the rest clapped along from their seats. Link had led her through every lift and turn, never losing a step. She could still recall the flush of excitement in his face, the joyful light in his eyes…
She ached to see such happiness in him again.
"It's a beautiful memory," Siena murmured. "And I'm so glad you've recovered it. But it must be rather… disorienting to recall these things. Are your memories hazy or fragmented when they come back to you?"
Zelda fingered the handle of her teacup, unsure how to explain her mysterious dreams.
"They aren't, actually. In fact, they have returned to me chronologically and quite vividly, as though they happened yesterday. They start to fade over time, as memories do, but I can easily recall the important things."
Siena stared at her, lips parted in awe. "That's…"
"Incredible, I know," Zelda said with a laugh. "I can't explain it… but I believe it has something to do with a special meditation I performed recently. I fell asleep in the middle of it, and my dreams—the memories—started that same night. Maybe it's divine intervention, or perhaps my magic is healing me in some way."
"Perhaps both… You have extraordinary abilities. It must be such a relief for you… and for Link, no doubt."
Zelda's teacup paused halfway to her lips before she set it down with a sigh.
"It is a major relief," she agreed. "But things are still… complicated. Or perhaps I'm making them complicated."
"What do you mean?"
Zelda studied the inside of her teacup, feeling a surge of nerves.
"As far as Link knows," she began. "I remember the early days of our courtship, when it was all very new for us. But, in truth, I've remembered much more than that."
She glanced at Siena, who studied her with a carefully composed expression.
"So… you're keeping some memories private… Memories involving him?"
Zelda nodded sadly.
"Can I ask why?" Her voice held a soft, motherly tone.
Zelda shifted in her chair, trying to shake her unease. "That's actually the other reason I came here today. I was hoping to get your advice as a woman… and a wife."
Sensing the gravity of this request, Siena set her teacup aside to give her full attention.
"When I wake from these dreams…" Zelda said slowly, "I feel as though another piece of myself has been restored, as though I'm… catching up with myself. Does that make any sense?"
"In a way… So, you might dream about falling in love, but when you wake you don't necessarily feel the same way?"
Zelda shook her head. "It's not that I don't have feelings for him. Now that my memories are coming back, it's strange to think there was a time when I didn't love him—or when I couldn't, I should say. But I am still… incomplete, and my feelings are… conflicted…"
She trailed off, releasing another quiet sigh. Don't ramble, her tutor's voice echoed in her mind. A queen speaks with precision.
"In the beginning," she started again. "Link and I wanted different things. I wanted to build a new life for myself, without the burden of living up to a past I couldn't remember. He just wanted his wife back, the woman he knew and loved."
"Both are understandable," Siena murmured. "And now?"
Zelda gave a short, bitter laugh. "It's funny in a way—we seem to have traded places. Link is ready to resume every aspect of our marriage… but I'm not there yet."
Siena's face remained carefully guarded. "You mean... intimacy."
Zelda gave a small nod, feeling her face heat.
"And... you don't want that?"
"No—it's not that—I just…" Zelda sighed and rubbed her temples, loathing how flustered she became at the mere thought. "I'm still a decade behind him, Siena. I barely know how to be a woman, much less a wife…"
"Honey, if you're worried about his expectations—"
"I'm sure his expectations are low," Zelda said, feeling her face heat. "But that's… Isn't that… undesirable?"
Siena gave her a knowing, sympathetic smile. "Nothing about you is undesirable to him."
Zelda's heart fluttered, then ached at the thought.
"...I doubt that," she whispered.
"He loves you, more than anything. This lack of experience you're worried about—it won't matter to him."
Zelda shook her head, thinking back to that night in the library, when she felt the raw intensity of Link's emotions. You don't understand…
"Why do you doubt it?" Siena asked with concern. "Did he say something?"
"No, no…"
She sat back in her chair, hands balled in her lap. How could she possibly explain? Even if Link was prepared for her lack of experience, was he prepared for… everything?
The bond awakened on our wedding night. What will happen this time?
Will the barrier hold? Does he plan to release it?
As much as she ached to regain that connection, to feel his soul tethered to hers without hindrance or reservation, she could not predict what he might feel.
Or not feel.
"...Honey."
A gentle hand touched her arm, and Zelda looked up to meet Siena's warm gaze.
"Whatever it is you're afraid of—tell him. He would never put his needs before yours."
"I know that… It's not me I'm worried about."
Siena paused and sat back, giving her a more somber look. "You fear you'll disappoint him."
A tightness formed in Zelda's chest, closing around her heart. To feel such humiliation, such rejection, all through the immediacy of their bond…
"Oh, honey…"
Siena left her seat to take the chair beside Zelda, giving her arm a comforting squeeze. "You could never disappoint him, not like that. He adores you…"
Zelda shook her head. "Everything is going so well… I couldn't bear to ruin it with anything… premature…"
"Tell him that. Don't worry about what might happen, or what should happen. That's all up to you. I'm sure he would say the same."
"He would—he has. But I hate to keep him waiting… and I don't want him to think I'm not interested…"
"Don't worry about what he might think. Have some trust, Zelda—in him and yourself. No relationship can work without trust."
Zelda traced the rim of her plate, considering this.
"You came to me for advice," Siena said gently, "but all I can say is this: don't leave that man to draw his own conclusions. I'm sure he's aware that something isn't right, and you know how quick he is to blame himself."
Zelda gave a wry smile. "We have that in common, I'm afraid."
"Oh, I know. Seriously, Zelda, a good, honest conversation will help the both of you. That I can promise."
With a pang of guilt Zelda recalled her less-than-subtle behavior over breakfast that morning—dodging Link's gentle questions, avoiding his concerned gaze…
A conversation we should have shared this morning.
"You're right," she said firmly, meeting Siena's gaze. "I will talk to him… tonight."
"Good." Siena smiled, caressing Zelda's shoulder. "Well, now that we've settled that, I insist that you try one of these cakes. I have many questions, and you'll need to keep up your strength."
Zelda smiled and obediently reached for a cake, glad to feel the knot in her chest had loosened—if only a little.
xXx
The mountains of Hebra made a stunning view at twilight, rising in stark silhouette to a blaze of red and gold. High above loomed the onset of dusk, a gradient of violet and blue dusted in starlight.
Zelda stood in the quiet hall outside her bedchamber, hugging her arms as she watched night fall upon the northwestern border. She could not recall setting foot in those mountains, but she knew an impressive military fortress stood amidst the ice and snow. There Hyrule's toughest soldiers endured Hebra's frozen terrain in constant vigilance, ever watchful of the hostile neighboring kingdom, Tar Alem.
For years Link had served as the commander of Hebra Fortress, overseeing defense of the border and leading covert missions into enemy territory. It was a dangerous position in a harsh environment, and Link's impressive leadership had earned him deep respect among the military, as well as recognition within the court and favor with the king.
Yet it was there, on those icy mountains, that death nearly claimed him.
Zelda had yet to remember the incident, but Link had spoken of it before, and she knew those memories would be difficult to relive. Still, she was eager to reclaim them—she yearned to reclaim them.
Tell him that, she ordered herself. Tell him everything. No more secrets, no more insecurities…
She paused then, distracted by a sudden shift in her awareness. Faint though it was, she sensed something approaching her—a warm, familiar presence, growing stronger as it—as he—drew nearer…
Then something shifted in the window, drawing her gaze.
"You were trying to sneak up on me," she said, meeting his eyes in the window. A guilty smile claimed his reflection.
"It's not something I could do before," came his lighthearted reply. "Might as well enjoy it while I can."
Zelda turned to face him, crossing her arms in feigned annoyance. "I'll have you know I sensed you coming this time."
Genuine surprise claimed his face. "Did you really?"
She nodded, dropping her disgruntled facade. "It was faint, and I didn't realize you were right behind me, but I felt… something. And I knew it was you."
Link smiled, lifting his hands to caress her arms. "See? I knew it would start coming back to you."
Zelda returned his smile and slipped her arms around his waist, closing her eyes when he returned her embrace.
"How was your visit today?" he murmured, kissing the crown of her head. "I missed you and Shayne at supper."
"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to stay so long." She drew back to give him an apologetic look. "But Shayne was having such fun, and I couldn't bring myself to pull him away so soon—"
"No apology necessary," Link soothed. "I'm glad you were able to stay."
"And… you're not angry that I left without seeing you first?"
Link scoffed. "I have no reason to object. Actually, I'm glad you went to see her. I probably owe her an apology for being so secretive. She deserves to know the whole truth."
"She was so kind and understanding. It was a lovely visit."
Link smiled and tucked a golden lock behind her ear. "I'm glad."
For a moment Zelda thought he might say more on the subject, but he dropped his gaze and reached for her hands.
"I was thinking," he murmured, tracing her knuckles with his thumbs, "that we might change our routine this evening. Maybe go someplace beyond the castle grounds… if you're up to it, of course."
Zelda gave him a curious look. "Sounds like you have a place in mind."
"Well…" He searched her face, trying to gauge her interest. "Would you be opposed to the Lost Woods?"
Her curiosity vanished with a puzzled look, causing Link to give a hurried explanation.
"I know—our last trip there was rather… unpleasant. I'd like to remedy that—if you're willing."
Zelda hesitated, recalling her few memories of the Lost Woods after dark. Beneath a full moon, amidst the dancing lights of fireflies, the Sacred Forest Meadow was a lovely, even peaceful place. Beyond the Meadow's protective enchantment, however, the Lost Woods loomed dark and ominous.
"Isn't it quite… dark there?"
"Well, yes… but it can be quite beautiful at night, if you know where to go…" Link hesitated, then brushed her knuckles again. "May I show you?"
Zelda held his gaze, struck by the look in his eyes. Wherever he meant to take her, it was important to him. Still, she pretended to consider it, then gave him a playful smile.
"Shall I fetch the ocarina, or will you?"
.
Zelda clutched Link's hand as he led her through the Lost Woods, glancing nervously at the surrounding trees. She found she did not fear the woods so much that time, which she attributed to her newly recovered memories. Still, the moon remained hidden behind thick, black clouds, and a heavy darkness all but swallowed their lantern's glow.
Memories or none, it was a spooky place.
How Link managed to navigate the endless maze, especially in the dark of night, never ceased to amaze her. Everything looked the same one moment and entirely different the next. The Deku Tree had blessed him with an immunity to the forest's many enchantments, but Zelda remembered enough to know Link rarely lost his way anywhere.
She was trying to imagine what sort of place could be worth the effort when Link slowed to a stop and turned to her.
"All right, close your eyes, and don't open until I say."
The lantern illuminated the eagerness in his face, and Zelda couldn't help but smile as her heart swelled with endearment.
"Please?" he added, his voice softening.
She did as he asked, showing no reluctance as he guided her forward. Within moments she heard the sound of running water, a welcome change from the cacophony of nocturnal creatures.
"All right," Link said, releasing her hand once they came to a stop. "Open your eyes."
She did so, gasping softly as she beheld the scene before them.
She found herself surrounded by light—soft, subtle glows emitting from numerous flowers, mushrooms, vines, and other plant life. Fireflies performed a constant dance everywhere she looked, gathering in large clusters before scattering about the glade.
To think such beauty could exist here after dark…
She turned toward the source of the running water, surprised to find two small waterfalls glimmering against a dark cliffside.
"This is the same place," she breathed. "You brought me here that day we visited Saria…"
She turned to Link, who nodded with a smile, still trying to gauge her reaction.
"I never imagined it could look like this at night," she added. "Is it enchanted?"
"No more than the rest of the forest," he replied. The Lost Woods is ancient; there's life here you won't find anywhere else in Hyrule."
"Amazing…"
She knelt before a cluster of white lilies, smiling when their blue centers glowed beneath her touch.
"It was night when I first brought you here," Link said softly. "You've always preferred it like this."
Zelda smiled, trying to conjure a memory as she gazed across the pond. Soft glows emitted from water lilies drifting about its glassy surface, their reflections quivering on the gently rippling water.
"...It does feel familiar," she said softly. "When did we first come here?"
"Shortly before your sixteenth birthday. You-know-who had come to stay at the castle by then, and he was rather… possessive of you. He began to suspect that you had someone else in your life, so he planted spies around the castle. The library was no longer safe for us."
Zelda's smile faded, but his words did not surprise her. Ashton's true nature had surfaced long before that point, and she remembered a great deal of it.
"You were determined to continue our meetings," Link added, "so you devised a new plan: every few days you would go to the Temple of Time at night—after it had closed to the public. As far as anyone knew, you spent that time in prayer, as part of your preparation for marriage. In truth you went there to meet me, and we would teleport here together. Impa always escorted you to the temple, and she covered for us if anything went sideways."
Zelda allowed herself another smile, pleased to learn that she had shown some defiance even as her wedding day drew near—under Ashton's nose, no less.
How exhilarating it must have been, to flee from our troubles and find true privacy in this beautiful place, if only for a while…
But as she looked about the glade, trying to recall those evenings with Link, she was stuck by a sudden wave of sorrow. The beginnings of a memory stirred, like a seedling pushing through freshly turned soil. Yet only her emotions broke the surface, escaping with a rush of tears before the feeling passed.
She felt Link draw closer behind her, his fingertips trailing up and down her arms. "What's wrong?"
"It's strange," she murmured, hearing a tremor in her voice. "I feel sad all of a sudden… but also relieved…"
"This place was our escape," he replied softly. "Our memories here are bittersweet."
Zelda nodded, taking a deep breath as she waited for the feeling to pass. Link's hands remained on her arms, soothing her.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head, slowly regaining her composure. "It will come back to me."
Then she turned and brought her arms around his neck, aware of his hands moving to her waist.
"I may not remember this place," she told him. "But I can see it's important to you. I'm sorry I wasn't receptive the first time."
Link shook his head with concern. "Don't be. It was too soon."
"You chose to show me this, even before I remembered it. Thank you… for trusting me."
She kissed him softly, tightening her arms around him as he gladly returned it. Their tender exchange quickly grew more heated, and a pleasant haze settled in her mind… only to dissipate when a bothersome question nudged its way into her thoughts.
"Link," she murmured between kisses, "...something I've been meaning to ask…"
He hummed his acknowledgment against her cheek, unwilling to pull away. Inwardly she braced herself.
"...Why is the barrier still between us?"
Link paused, then drew back to meet her gaze. Zelda was glad to see he looked more curious than concerned.
"Does it bother you?" he asked.
"Well… I suppose I've been wondering when we should… reclaim it. The bond, I mean."
He gave a light shrug. "I think it will happen naturally… when we're ready."
Zelda furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"
"I'm not holding the barrier in place anymore. Not really. I've just… left it there."
She stared at him, confused but unsure how to respond. Link merely smiled.
"Think of it like a door between us," he explained. "For a while I was holding the door shut, so you couldn't get through if you tried. That door is still closed, but I've stepped away from it."
"So… I could open it if I wished?"
"Well, it's a little harder than turning a knob. You'd have to use some force."
She frowned. "I don't know how to do that."
"I think you'll know when you're ready—and that you'll do it effortlessly. By instinct."
"When do you think that will be?"
Link hesitated, dropping his gaze. "I think we might need to… cross a threshold. Like we did the first time."
Oh. Zelda felt her cheeks flush. Our wedding night.
"That makes you uneasy…" His blue eyes met hers, pleading for her to confide in him. "Why?"
She shook her head. "It's not what you think…"
He reached for her cheek, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. "You know you can tell me anything; don't you?"
She swallowed, grasping for the words to reassure him.
"I… I'm not sure I can cross that threshold," she confessed in a small voice. "Not without the bond. Maybe if… if I had more memories, or—"
She broke off when a large drop of water splashed against her nose. Both she and Link glanced up to see a flash light the sky, followed by a loud crack and a heavy torrent of rain.
Within seconds Link grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the trees. Their lantern lay extinguished on the ground, and the luminescent lights had gone out, leaving the glade in near total darkness.
"Hold onto me!" he shouted over the storm, pulling her close.
Finding no argument, Zelda wrapped her arms around him and pressed her ear to his shoulder, flinching when more thunder shook the glade. The notes of a familiar melody sounded in her ear, barely audible amidst the noise, and Link drew her close as the magic stole them away.
xXx
With rising anxiety Zelda gripped her reins and peered through the falling snow, struggling to ignore the terrible weight in her chest.
What if he was ambushed? Captured and dragged past the border?
You saw what might happen, and you still let him go!
Zelda shook her head, suppressing her frantic thoughts.
It's a routine scouting mission—with three of his best men. He's taking his time, just like Impa said, and he will be quite irritated when he sees you out here…
It was a hollow reassurance. The scene from her vision seemed all too real, the chance to prevent it beyond her grasp. All the while a cold and nauseating fear writhed within her.
You failed him.
"No," she hissed, urging her horse through a flurry of snow. Ahead loomed the white peaks of Hebra, daring her to brave its perilous slopes. Zelda clenched her teeth and pressed on, praying for some sense of direction—
Zel…da…
She halted her horse, breathing his name to the wind.
Link? Where are you?
Icy gusts whipped at her cloak, veiling the surrounding pines. Again and again she called to him, too focused, too terrified to feel her numb toes and aching lungs.
He gave no reply.
Zelda inhaled deeply, embracing the pain as it cleared her head. She closed her eyes and searched again, straining for something, anything, that might guide her to him…
Then, in the stillness of her focused mind, she felt the faintest ripple—warm and familiar.
Link.
Her eyes flew open, just as a distant whinny drew her attention. Behind her Impa and Clef rushed their horses toward her, struggling to maneuver through the deepening snow. Impa called for her to stop, but Zelda motioned for them to follow and dismounted her own steed.
She charged into the howling wind, grateful for the speed of her snow boots. Only when the terrain shifted sharply downhill did she lose her footing, tumbling toward a small ravine. The snow seemed less intense there, thinning enough for her to observe her surroundings…
Within seconds she saw a motionless body, barely visible on the ground.
Zelda rushed toward it, heart in her throat, too terrified to breathe. She skidded to a halt and dropped to her knees, turning the body to see—
His face was not Link's.
In her panic Zelda failed to recognize the fallen man, too anxious to find Link. Her sharp eyes spied a wall streaked in blood above a nearby cliff, and she threw herself toward it, struggling up another incline to drive her knife into the bloodied stone. There she peered down over the ledge, grasping the hilt to steady herself.
Two more bodies lay below… and a fourth several meters away.
"No…"
Horror consumed her, darkening the edges of her vision as she stumbled back down the ravine. Her breath pierced like needles, and her steps weighed like iron, yet somehow she kept moving. By sheer instinct she passed the two bodies, following a fresh trail in the bloodstained snow.
"Link!" she screamed, her face stiff with frozen tears. "Link!"
Desperately she clawed her way toward him, recognizing the broken, lifeless form in her dreams.
"Liiink!"
xXx
Link sighed and turned onto his back, willing his persistent thoughts to quiet. Outside a gentle rain pattered against the windows, remnants of the deluge he and Zelda had escaped mere hours ago.
There was a time when that sound might have soothed him to sleep, but that night it kept him awake, stirring up images of that fateful night in the mountain pass. Only in retrospect did he recall the pouring rain, the bone-deep chill as he carried Zelda's lifeless body, the incessant drumming in the long, painful hours she lay comatose…
Link squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could forget.
Instead he thrust his mind back to the present, forcing it to dwell on other troubles—such as Zelda's guilty, nervous demeanor before the storm closed in, interrupting her hushed admission…
He did not regret rushing her back to Castletown, but he had hoped she might invite him to her chamber, if only to finish what she started to say in the glade.
"I'm sure you'd like a warm bath and dry clothes, so I won't keep you," he had told her when they stood outside her chamber. "But I am happy to talk afterward—if you like."
She had sighed, gently denying him with an apologetic look.
"I think… I'd like to retire for the night. I'm sorry—I'm rather tired, and quite eager to recover more memories…"
Link had expected such a response, but it stung nonetheless.
"Don't be sorry—I understand. But, if you change your mind, and you'd like to talk—about anything—please come and see me. Wake me if I'm asleep. My door is always open to you."
Her blue eyes shone in the lamplight, warm with appreciation.
"I would hate to disturb you…"
"You could never disturb me."
Several hours had passed since then, and still sleep eluded him. Despite Zelda's reassurances, he couldn't help but wonder if revisiting the glade had been yet another mistake. Was he moving too fast? She did not remember it, after all…
She might feel differently if I had handled things better in the beginning…
Link sighed and pushed his hair back from his forehead, letting himself sink into the familiar clutches of doubt…
Click.
Link froze, recognizing the sound of his chamber door. With a pounding heart he left his bed and moved to the open doorway…
And there she was, standing barefoot in her nightgown, her face pale and distraught.
"Zelda?"
Instinctively he moved toward her—just as she rushed to him. Within seconds she was in his arms, her face pressed to his shoulder, her hands clutching his back. Stunned, Link held her close and murmured soft reassurances, alarmed to see her in such distress.
She clung to him for a while, sniffling quietly as she calmed herself. Eventually Link felt her grip ease on his back, her hand moving to slip under his shirt. He inhaled sharply, startled to feel her touch him so freely. Her soft fingers traveled up his lower back, pausing when they brushed a thick, raised scar.
He swallowed. Oh.
"You remember Hebra..."
Zelda nodded against his shoulder, then drew back to study him with soft, glimmering eyes.
"Could we… sit for a while?"
"Of course…"
Link ushered her to the sofa and sat down with her, caressing her back as she huddled close to him. She reached for his free hand, knitting their fingers as her head came to rest on his shoulder.
For several moments she said nothing, content to stroke his hand while they listened to the crackling fireplace. As much as he relished that familiar peace, Link could not ignore the tension in her grasp. Her thoughts were far away, lingering with the dream that had left her so distressed.
"...I'm sorry I burst in like that," she finally spoke, her voice small but steady. "My dream… it was so real…"
"There's no need to apologize," he soothed, caressing her shoulder. "I'm glad you came."
Slowly she released his hand and lifted her head, moving to sit on the edge of the sofa.
"I can't believe I let you go that night," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the flames. "After everything I had seen. I know it was years ago, but I…" She broke off with a huff, shaking her head in disgust. "I should have stopped you."
Link sighed, remembering their argument before he led the patrol that night in Hebra. She had begged him to stay in the fortress, but he refused to leave her safety in someone else's hands.
"You tried to stop me," he reminded her. "I insisted."
Zelda shook her head. "My presence was the only reason you led that patrol. I caused the very incident I came to prevent."
Link smiled to himself, unbeknownst to her.
"You held a similar view back then," he told her softly. "I never saw it that way."
Zelda turned to him, her face a wordless dare to console her. Link sighed and moved to the edge of the sofa, imitating her posture.
"I chose those men to assist me," he reminded her. "I gave them the opportunity, not you."
Again she shook her head. "It would not have happened at all if I had stayed away."
"They were among my best soldiers, Zelda. Had they chosen not to betray me that night, they would have done so another time—and you would not have been there to save me."
She seemed to consider this, but then lowered her gaze, still skeptical.
"I was meant to face that trial, one way or another." Gently he lifted her chin, turning her face to his. "You saw those visions, and you came to the fortress not to prevent what happened… but to ensure that I survived it."
Her eyes searched his face, desperate for reassurance.
"Do you really believe that?" she whispered.
"I know it."
She took his hand and shifted closer, her face no less anxious. "Please tell me I took care of you—that I stopped worrying so much about what people might think… Even with Ashton gone I was fickle, and I hate it."
"You weren't fickle. You were… cautious."
"And you were frustrated. You needed me to be stronger for us, and I almost failed you in that too. When your letters stopped…"
"It wasn't like that…"
"I remember why you did it—and how I finally went to see you. It was the first sensible thing I did for you."
Link studied her face, still beautiful in her apparent frustration. A pressure formed in his throat, leaving him unable to speak.
She's recovered so much…
"Tell me I changed that night—when I nearly lost you." Her voice held a softer, almost fearful note. "Tell me I looked after you, as you've always looked after me…"
She brought a hand to his cheek, tracing her thumb along his cheekbone. Link closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, savoring her touch.
"I can't recall a time when you didn't," he murmured. "My memories are… hazy, but I do remember you. It was always your hands treating me, your voice keeping me grounded, your face watching over me."
Her eyes held his, burning with an intensity Link hadn't seen since before her accident.
"And after that?" she whispered. "At the castle?"
"You cared for me as often as you could, just as you promised… But I'm sorry you have to relive all of this. Once was painful enough."
Zelda fell silent, then moved to take his shoulders. His breath caught when she gently settled onto his lap, pinning him against the sofa. Instinctively his hands moved to her waist, caressing her.
"I'm not sorry," she told him, her voice low and breathy. "I want all of my memories, our memories, no matter how painful they are."
Her hands moved to his face, and her gaze softened with sheer adoration, as though the feeling had never left her.
"Oh, Link," she whispered, "I love you so much."
He meant to echo her words, but her lips claimed his before he could try.
Gone was the reluctance she had shown for so long. Her kisses were breathless, uninhibited, just as they had been that night in the library. But this time there was no tension, no weight of anxiety or doubt. She was his Zelda, memory gaps and all.
His hands slid to her back, caressing through the thin fabric of her gown, longing to feel her soft skin beneath it. Only when they parted for breath, their foreheads still pressed together in a mutual need for closeness, did he feel the tears on his face. Zelda noticed as well, and gently she brushed them away.
"Happy tears this time?" she murmured.
He choked out a laugh, managing a nod before she kissed him again. He responded gladly, certain his heart might burst from the joy of her.
"Stay with me tonight…"
Link had meant to keep that plea in his head, to let her determine their pace. But he ached to be near her, if only to hold her while she slept. He was relieved to feel no tension in her body, and he saw reluctance in her gaze. On the contrary, he recognized the spark behind her eyes, ignited like embers to flame.
Then, to his surprise, she stepped off his lap and took his hand, urging him to follow. They had nearly reached his bedroom door when a warning bell rang in his head.
"Wait," he heard himself say, slowing them both to a stop.
She turned to him, her expression calm despite the intensity of her gaze. Gently he took her by the shoulders, trying to steady his shaking hands.
"I need to know how far this can go," he told her. "You seemed… conflicted earlier."
A shadow of regret crossed her face.
"I was conflicted," she admitted. "I feared I might… disappoint you. That I wasn't enough."
Link tried to object, but Zelda hushed him with her fingertips.
"I know," she soothed. "You've given me no reason to feel that way. Not for a long time now. They were my insecurities to overcome.
"But no more," she added firmly, lowering her hand from his lips. "I see clearly now… just as I did then, on that night I watched over you."
Mesmerized, Link reached for her face, cradling her cheek in his palm.
"What do you see now?" he asked her softly.
She swallowed, forcing some strength into her voice.
"That the only thing I should fear is a life without you. And that I have no reason to push you away… I don't want to push you away—"
She broke off when he kissed her—ardently, urgently—unable to restrain himself another moment. She uttered his name with a sigh, her hands sliding up around his neck.
"Show me how we used to be," she breathed against his lips, "the way we're supposed to be…"
Link needed no persuading. He swept her into his arms and moved to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.
Candles flared to life with a flick of Zelda's hand, illuminating the room in soft, intimate glows. Outside the rain still pattered against the windows, the only sound in the silent room.
Time slowed as Link lay her on the bed, nestling her head against the pillows. He found he could not take his eyes from her face, noting the way her hair shone in the candlelight, how her gown slid past her delicate shoulder. Her ageless eyes watched him with equal focus, closing only as he leaned in to kiss her.
Eventually, beyond the blissful fog that slowed his thoughts, Link felt a tug on his nightshirt, and quickly he paused to pull it off. Her lithe fingers explored this new territory with slow appreciation, feeling every muscle, every scar that marked his arms, his shoulders, his chest. Link bent down to kiss her neck, but she stopped him with a hand on his heart. Gently she traced the white scar there, studying it with clouded eyes.
Unfazed, Link took her hand and laced their fingers, pressing them into the pillow as he kissed a slow path below her ear. His other hand wandered her body, tracing every curve, seeking all the sensitive places he had discovered over the years. Zelda shivered and sighed beneath him, breathing his name between kisses.
The mere feel of her brought a flurry of sensations, each one heavier than the last, dragging him down, down to a wondrous haze of euphoria. After so many weeks of restraint, Link felt he could not kiss her enough, touch her enough—
Then, without warning, a strange weight suddenly pressed on his mind, causing him to pull away with a gasp.
"...Link? Link, What's wrong?"
He turned away from her, clutching his head as the pressure intensified.
The barrier…
For months he had maintained it with little effort, yet in that moment he felt it slipping from his grasp. Only after deep concentration did he feel the pressure ease, but he knew his grip would not hold, certainly not if they…
"The bond," he stammered, meeting his wife's concerned gaze. "I—I almost lost control…"
Realization crossed her face, followed by a puzzled look.
"Why does that frighten you?" she asked him gently. "You said you weren't holding that door closed anymore."
Link hesitated, feeling a tug of guilt. "I… Are you trying to break through?"
"Not consciously… Why does it matter?"
He stared at her, feeling as though he'd been doused with cold water.
"I… I didn't think it would happen like this... before we…"
Her concern faded with a look of understanding.
"Darling," she soothed, "it won't be that way this time. So much has changed since that night… Don't you feel it?"
He swallowed, finding no argument. He did feel it—the fragility of the wall between them, how she had managed to seep through its widening cracks. Still he held it in place, fearful of the feelings he couldn't control, the pain he might inflict…
Link.
He blinked, startled to hear her voice in his head. She smiled gently, pleased by his reaction.
I let go of my fears. So must you.
Zelda reached for his hand, bringing it to her cheek.
Trust me… as I trust you.
He searched her beautiful face, finding strength in her steady, loving gaze—the same he had seen in Hebra, when she watched over him and refused to leave his side. The same he had seen every day since, in all the trials they had faced together.
…I trust you.
He inhaled slowly, deeply, focusing on the feel of her fingers entwined with his. Panic clawed at the edge of his awareness, fading as he quieted his thoughts. Slowly his mind cleared, until only her presence remained, blazing just beyond his reach…
Then, gradually, carefully, he relinquished his hold, allowing her to push through if she wished it. The barrier immediately fell away, toppling like an old ruin on the brink of collapse.
In an instant, she was everywhere. No longer did she hover nearby, obscured behind some intangible veil, but with him. Her lost memories lingered not as emptiness but a mournful ache eclipsed by the sheer wonder of being joined to him again. The relief resonated deep within her soul, which shone as bright and beautiful as he remembered.
Zelda… Zelda…
Everything he wished to say, to acknowledge or explain—all was understood, all without words. How had they strayed from this unshakable certainty? Why had they been so afraid, so unable to trust…?
Link…
Whether the voice was hers or his own, he could no longer tell. All he knew was a growing need to be with her, part of her, one with her. All the while this desire flowed back in perfect reciprocation, laced with warmth and joy.
I know you…
I love you…
Always.