Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

METANOIA: noun - the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life.

-Prologue-

ZELDA

I struggle to keep my lips from lifting to a smile as I hurry through the halls, my footsteps light as a cat's. Cautiously, I tug the hood tighter around my head as turn the corner and exit the stone walls of the castle, stepping into the golden light of evening. A thrill of rebellion pulses to my fingertips, though rationally I know that I am doing nothing of true excitement. Really, the castle is leeching life from me. Any little secretive excursion is enough to spark life back into my heart, even if it is minuscule.

My careful footsteps lead me through the outer edges of the courtyard. The cover of pruned hedges and greenery shields me from any potential passer-bys. Perhaps I should avoid looking so suspicious, but that would be much less thrilling, wouldn't it?

Finally, I arrive at my destination around a few more corners and vines. My hands lift to remove my hood from my face, allowing my braided hair to fall over my shoulders. I take in my surroundings: a small alcove enclosed by stone walls. Nearby is a wooden old stable, forgotten once the new, larger stables finished construction. My eyes rove around me, alert and ready for motion. My fingers twitch in anticipation.

I wait.

A light footstep sounds to my left, and in an instant I summon my rapier into my hand and parry a heavy blade arching toward me with my own. I spin and find myself face to face with wild blue eyes.

"You'll have to be more silent than that to surprise me," I reprimand teasingly. He only gives a half-grin in response and twists away to swing again. Our blades clang as they meet again, though this time I swiftly move to jab my rapier at his side. He deftly dodges and meets my attack with a brute swing of his own, to which I dance out of the way. He takes on a defensive stance as I continue a flurry of attacks, all of which he dodges with ease. The almost lazy look on his face gives irritated strength to my arms.

We go on for a while, neither of us successfully disarming the other. I know he's holding back. He always does—irritatingly as it may be.

After long minutes of parrying and attacking, my arms lose their strength and become numb from the vibration of clashing steel spiking through my bones. I stumble, if only slightly, trying to catch my breath.

But he catches the mistake quickly, slamming the pommel of his sword into mine so I yelp in surprise and drop my rapier. The cold point of his broadsword presses gently to my neck, and I lift my hands in surrender.

"One of these days I will win, Link," I promise him as he leans down to pick up my rapier and hands it back to me with a smug look on his face. My breaths come quickly, and I feel a light sheen of sweat gathering at my hairline. But somehow, he hardly even seems winded.

"You can keep dreaming, my Queen," he gives a mock bow and leans casually against his sword.

"So sure," I wipe at my forehead, and steady my breaths. "And so smug when you are in combat. What happens to the humble Hero of Twilight once he has a sword in his hand?" I don't wait for a response before I kick his blade out from under him. I allow a the small victory to make my eyes twinkle as he struggles to catch his balance.

"You're getting better," he says, seriousness replacing his light tone. "Just remember to take advantage of your stealth rather than use pure strength."

I ignore the flutter of pride rising in my stomach at his approval. "And what if I encounter another swift opponent?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but my attention is suddenly snatched elsewhere. My eyes flicker across the small courtyard, trying to pinpoint the sudden potent smell of strange magic in the air.

Link notices the change in my demeanor and quickly tightens his grip around his sword. "Zelda? What is—"

A sudden crash interrupts his inquiry, and I hold my hands up to shield my face as pieces of stone fly through the air. I cough as dust slowly settles, revealing a gaping hole in the stone wall next to us. In an instant, my rapier is back in my hand and I summon my magic to my fingertips. They tingle with energy waiting to be released.

Link eases into a fighting stance, sword gripped firmly in his left hand as he waits for a threat to show itself. In the distance, I can hear shouts of commotion as people try to pinpoint where the explosion was.

At first, nothing happens. The dust clears completely, the stones stop tumbling. The gap in the wall reveals a clear view of the northern part of Hyrule Field, with a single river twisting through the center of the land. Nothing happens. My heartbeat slowly calms. I begin to retract my magic and turn to Link.

Whatever the attack was from, it clearly wasn't strategic. We'll need to dispatch some soldiers to find the culprit—

But I dropped my guard too soon.

A black dart flies through the air and hits Link in the side. He gasps in shock, glancing down at the blood beginning to seep through his tunic. He sinks to his knees, jaw clenched in pain as he leans heavily against his sword.

In a moment I am at his side, my thoughts frenzied and panicked. "Zelda, watch out—!"

I jump back to my feet in time to summon a light barrier as a cloud of black energy zips toward me. It clashes against the barrier, retreating back as the light burns it. Below me, Link begins to writhe and hiss in pain. His hand presses against the wound in his side and I watch in horror as the dart begins to sink further into his flesh until it disappears altogether. Once again I drop to his side and press my hand to the wound, trying to halt the bleeding. My eyes are wide as I retract my hand from his side.

The wound is colder than ice.

"Link, we need to get you out of here at once," I decide amidst my spinning mind. His blood is seeping into the grass beneath us. But he doesn't hear me. A agonized scream escapes his lips that chills my bones. I reach for him, but then stumble back on my hands in horror.

His limbs begin changing, skin and fabric morphing. It's a sight that is painfully familiar.

Before I know it, a gray wolf lies before me, unconscious with gaping wound in his side.

"Twilight magic," I whisper. A clash catches my attention. I look up to see the mass of dark magic shatter through my barrier, weakened from my distracted state. The cloud of magic suffocates me at once, filling my lungs until I feel like I'm drowning in cotton. I fall to the ground in agony, writhing and struggling for air. I feel my consciousness fleeing from me like the setting sun, my vision beginning to darken.

But through the haze I feel my hand warm—too warm. It burns with energy. A blinding light radiates from it, and I lift it to my neck. In an instant, the choking magic releases from my lungs, and I gasp greedily at the fresh air around me. The cloud of dark matter begins to zip away, but I face my palm toward it before it can escape, the mark of the Triforce shining brilliantly on the back of my hand. Gold light engulfs the mass of dark magic, halting its flight. I pull on my magic, contracting it inward until the mass is contained. Inward I pull until it confines the darkness into a small orb, hardly bigger than a marble. It clatters onto the green grass.

My chest heaves with exhaustion as I crawl to it and tuck it into the pocket of my skirts.

What was Twilight magic doing in the light realm?

At once, my attention returns to Link, now beast, laying on the ground. I reach him shakily, panic rising like bile in my throat. He's lost too much blood.

"Please, hold on," I beg him quietly. "You can't leave me now."

I breathe in relief as I hear voices coming closer to inspect the scene. I hear footsteps quicken when they see me amidst the rubble next to a bleeding wolf.

"Your Majesty!" A soldier shouts as he lifts me from the ground. "Are you alri—"

"Bring him to the infirmary at once," I interrupt him, urgency lacing my tone. The soldier glances down at Link on the ground, confusion open on his face.

"But, it's just..."

"Now," I insist as I break myself from his hold, others arriving at the scene with a mix of excited and worried looks.

"At once, my Queen," the soldier gives a deft bow and begins shouting orders to scoop up Link and bring him to the infirmary. I follow afterwards, willing my steps to remain strong despite the fatigue eating at my mind. A haze of fog settles over my mind as we rush to the infirmary. I order the physician to operate on Link at once, despite his obvious confusion.

"Forgive my protests, Your Majesty, but I am no veterinary—"

"Do what you can," I insist, leaving no room for further objections. The slight man swallows uncertainty, but offers a bow before attending to Link.

I offer no more explanation. I only wait as they work to stitch him back together, pacing in across the polished wood of the infirmary. Nurses fuss about me, checking for injuries despite my insistence on being fine.

I just need Link to be fine.

I need him to be alive.

Hours pass. Years pass. A lifetime passess. I will my thoughts to calm, pushing out the frantic, darker ones that insist he will not live. I shut them out until my mind is blank. All that remains is my plea to the Goddesses. Please, please. Don't take him yet, please.

"Your Majesty," a gentle voice prods me from my dazed state. "I would advise you return to your chambers. It is very late…."

"Have they finished operating on him?" Is my only response as I look at the young maid. She wrings her hands nervously, uncomfortable under my masked gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty."

I dip my head in acknowledgement. "Move him to my chambers to recover."

Chapter Text

LINK

At first, all I feel is pain.

Raging, burning, suffocating—threatening to take my consciousness again before I even open my eyes. I remember the last time I awoke feeling like this, beaten and battered from a battle. It was nearly three years ago. Three years ago when I had killed the King of Evil and returned Hyrule to peace and light with Zelda's aid. And Midna's.

My memory is fuddled—what caused the pain now? Hyrule is at peace. Though I have been commander of the queen's Royal Guard for over a year, I witness very few genuine battles now. I haven't sustained a severe injury in quite some time.

I force my eyes open at last with great effort, my head swimming and pounding with exhaustion. My eyelids threaten to fall shut again, but I fight to stay awake.

But something doesn't feel right… I glance down to look at my hand and see a gray paw instead and startle. The movement sends sparks of pain through my side, sending black spots across my vision. My heartbeat quickens in apprehension. Memories slowly fade back as the haze of sleep dissipates.

Standing in a courtyard on grass with her. I see the quirk of her lips, indicating the ghost of a smile that never truly manifests itself. My sword kicked out from underneath me by her, a look of sly amusement gleaming in her violet-blue eyes.

Then a crash, and a burning pain in my side.

I look down to see the wound, buried beneath my fur, now cleaned and stitched closed. But what happened after that? Why am I a wolf?

"Link?"

My head snaps up to find Zelda sliding out of her bed across the room, her nightgown swishing gently against her legs. Where am I? My eyes flit around in panic mingled with confusion. I'm in the queen's private chambers.

"Thank the gods you are awake."

She rushes over with graceful, silent steps and crouches before me with a faint look of concern on her sleepy face. I feel heat rise in my chest at the sight of her hair loose from its usual braids and twists, falling over her silk nightgown. But she shows no sign of embarrassment, only concern as I struggle to my feet—or rather, paws. Her eyes sadden when I grimace at the pain in my side.

"How are you feeling?" She settles onto her knees and reaches forward as if to touch my side, but haults her slim hand and places them instead in her lap. Her eyes glance down at my wound. I try to find my voice, only to whimper rather than speak. She cocks her head sadly to the side.

I feel as if I'm intruding, and feel completely improper sitting in the queen's chambers at night, with her sitting in the moonlight in nothing but a silk gown. The heat rises again, and I avert my gaze to the bedding beneath me. I realize a makeshift bed was made for me, with pillows and blankets folded and tucked neatly beside her room's windows with care. I wonder if her staff and guards knew it was me in her room, or if they thought she was keeping a random beast in her room for some undisclosed reason. But how would she explain the commander suddenly transforming into a wolf?

"What is it, Link?" Her gentle voice prods, noticing my averted gaze. I don't meet her eyes. She's quiet for a moment, and I suspect she's piecing the clues, her mind ever sharp. "You needn't feel so shy, hero. After all, I was worried the castle staff would toss you out if you weren't under my watch. They think you are just some wolf..."

I allow my eyes to meet hers. So they don't know. I have so many questions, all of which I can't ask. But foremost, is why I am stuck in wolf form, and how. Only Twilight matter transforms me, and the Twilight Realm was separated from the Light Realm three years ago when the mirror shattered. It doesn't make sense. So I paw at the ground and make a pointed look at my body, hoping she'll understand.

"...I'm not certain," Zelda admits, understanding my gestures. "Whatever that darkness was, it transformed you. I thought it was some fragment of Twilight matter. It was not the only thing that attacked," she says slowly as she stands to her feet and makes her way to a wardrobe against the wall. After sifting through the drawers for a moment, she returns with a gleaming object in her hand and opens her palm for me to see. A black orb lies in the center of it.

"It was black magic of some sort, in the form as gaseous matter. It..." she looks away for a moment, hand subconsciously lifting to her neck, and I tilt my head in curiously at her disturbed look, but she doesn't elaborate and moves on. "I think I know someone who could identify what exactly it is. It is unlike anything from the Twilight Realm I've ever seen, or any magic common to our lands...but I do have a theory. I would like to ask someone to confirm my suspicions." She closes her hand around the orb, a resolute look on her face. But there's something else. A sort of discomfort, nervousness that no unfamiliar person could ever detect. But I know her well enough to see it through her stony mask. I give a small whine and stare at her, frustrated that I can't verbally ask her what's wrong.

Zelda's eyes look downcast for a moment, and a slight line of worry creases the smooth plane of her forehead. Only for a moment. "The attack...it did something to my magic. It put a muzzle on it of some sort," she explains, struggling for words. That worries me. Zelda is always eloquent with her words, never at a loss for the perfect thing to say. It's a quality that I admire, one that surely is valuable as the sole monarch of Hyrule. I realize with a shudder that she easily could make the most mule-headed men bow to her will with some clever twists of words. It's a blessing that she of all people was given such a gift of words and beauty, for any other corrupt person would use it for ill-will. But the only time she couldn't find her words was when she was stumped, which was a rare occurrence.

"I am unable tap into my magic anymore," she sighs, her eyes closed, cleary unnerved and frustrated.

I watch her face carefully until her eyes reopen, revealing pale blue; thoughtful and analytical as always. "Are you well enough to travel?" She asks.

I nod without a second thought. If my queen needs me, I will serve. Even if I am only a wolf—but it is my duty. But she looks me over with an uncertain hint in her eyes as if she doesn't quite believe me. The pain in my side has already faded to a tolerable ghost of an ache. I've traveled in worse conditions.

"Very well. We leave at once."

—-

ZELDA

Lord Velar, a long-time royal council member of foreign affairs, gives me a look of pure mortification, and nearly looks as if he's going to faint.

Melodramatic as always, that old man.

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," I insist, allowing impatience lace my tone as I pack my horse's saddlebags. The pale mare nickers, excited with the promise of leaving the cramped stables and entering the open fields of Hyrule. I can't help but reciprocate the eagerness.

"Your Majesty, you cannot leave the castle—certainly not without at least a handful of guards with you!" Velar exclaims with an outraged tone. His hand rests heavily against a supportive beam in the stable as if it's the last thing keeping him from collapsing. But I will not relent.

"Lord Velar, need I remind you that I am trained to defend myself? I am hardly hardly a helpless damsel." I flick a knife from my sleeve and allow it to gleam in the sunlight for emphasis with a deft spin. His eyes follow the blade, but he still does not look reassured even as I pack my quiver with arrows and string my bow across my back. "It simply is a foolish idea," he heaves with great effort. "You are the only heir to the throne—if something were to happen," he shakes his head and touches a bony hand to his heart, "why, your bloodline would be extinct!"

"I am aware of this, Lord Velar," I say as I begin leading my horse out of the stables, Link following close at my heels. Velar eyes him nervously.. I don't bother to tell him who the wolf truly is. "But I can assure you that I am not simply throwing myself into danger. I am only seeking out an old friend of the royal family."

"Whatever for?"

"Such information does not concern you," I say flatly, ignoring the way he bristles. He means well, Lord Velar, but he underestimates my ability to care for myself. Besides, Hyrule is at peace, and whatever evil attacked the castle was so weak that it only manifested in a un-solid form. And I had managed to contain it, encased safely in a orb within a pouch at my waist. I hear Velar inhale to continue his banters, but I spin to face him with my patience wearing thin.

"Four weeks. Give me four weeks. If I do not return by then, you may send out the men in search of me."

Four weeks should be more than enough time to undo this mess, right?

Lord Velar's jaw works silently as he considers my request. I don't care about his answer. He cannot stop me as I turn to walk away with my horse and Link at my side. It is rare that I use my status as queen to command people, but if needs be—

"Fine; you have four weeks."

Inwardly, I sigh with relief and turn to face him. He may be a fussy, frustrating old man, but at least he can find patience within himself. My heart warms toward him. I've known Velar since I was a small child, as he has been serving the royal family since my father was in reign. He is a conservative, traditional man that was hesitant to allow me queenship without a spouse at my side, but he eventually was willing to be open-minded. And for that, I am immensely grateful—and relieved.

"But if you are gone even a day later than that, I'm sending the entire royal army in search of you," Velar narrows his eyes at me. I only nod, giving him a simple assurance that I will be fine. Link beside me gives a low growl in impatience, and Velar gives another perturbed glance at him.

"Farewell, Lord Velar. Until then."

We exit the stables, heading through the northern gates of the castle grounds where the crowds of Castletown will not see me. Regardless, I flip the hood of my ebony cloak over my head as we exit the stone confines of the castle yard.

The expanse of Northern Hyrule Field lays in front of me, river glittering in the morning sunlight and trees swaying in the late-autumn breeze. If matters weren't so urgent, I might stall to enjoy the surroundings. It's not very often I am allowed time to leave the castle. But I have a quest; questions to find answers to. So I swing swiftly onto my horse and meet Link's gaze below me. He gives a curt nod, assuring me that he is well enough to run alongside. I release a breath, and urge my horse forward into the field.

We pass very few people along the road, as not many frequent the northern areas of Hyrule other than the occasional Zora traveling by river. The path we follow eventually narrows into a rocky pass, the greenery of the field withering and making way for dusty rocks and barren shrubbery. The deeper into the pass we travel, the more life it seems has been sucked away from the land. I see now why more people inhabit the southern parts of Hyrule. It seems the ancient wars and battles that took place in the area took an immense toll on the land, leaving it forever damaged, cut, and isolated from all life. That is, until we arrive around a corner.

The sounds reach my ears before I see them: garbled chattering and the sound of wood against wood. Link at once lowers into a defensive stance, stepping in front of my horse as I bring her to a stop. I draw my bow and an arrow, waiting as Link cautiously inches forward to peer fully around the corner. The chattering and ruckus comes to a halt, and a breath catches in my throat. Bulbins begin squealing war cries as they catch sight of us, holding clubs above their greenish heads and charging forward. My mind calculates the situation at once. Four bulbins, all poorly equipped and inexperienced judging by the clumsy handling of their weapons. One favors its left leg, the limp causing it to fall behind.

A growl rumbles from Link's chest, and soon he lunges at the closest bulbin and begins fighting it with vicious attacks. I take aim at the second one, allowing my arrow to fly and hit it in the chest. It falls to the ground with a graceless thud. Despite it being only a beast with malicious intent, my heart still sinks with a twinge of guilt at taking a life. But I don't have time to mourn before I take aim at the limping bulbin, and it too falls to the ground. Link finishes off the final beast, and the canyon falls quiet once again. He looks up at me with overt concern.

"I am unharmed," I assure him. "Are you?"

He nods once in confirmation.

"I thought the roads had been cleared of such creatures," I say thoughtfully. "Perhaps

they have been flushed into areas that are less populated."

Link stares ahead down the road, then looks back at me with his breaths slowing back to normal.

"Are we close?" I inquire. He nods, and begins trotting forward through the canyon. I follow as we fully round the corner where a short ledge leading to a tunnel awaits. Link rushes to the ledge and hops on it, looking back as he waits for me to dismount my horse and follow after him. He leads me through the tunnel's worn walls, which quickly opens into a small valley. Each side of the tiny valley is covered in ramshackle houses that look as though they would fall with even the slightest gust of wind. The windows of the building are cracked and shattered, and the faint sound of a door swinging in the breeze echoes against the dusty rocks.

I slow to a stop to take in the abandoned village, a twinge of sadness settling in my chest. The last time I was here, I was only a small girl. The village then wasn't thriving, by any means, but it wasn't this barren. Either way, seeing the old building sends unwelcome memories to the surface of my mind. I shove them away before I can think about them.

The village. Old Kakariko, once housed Sheikan inhabitants, a mysterious tribe of people that served the royal family since Hyrule was established. But one of my distant ancestors became distrusting of the advance tribe, convinced they would overthrow him and steal his throne with their technology and mysterious magic. So he exiled them here.

They managed well enough, until war after war from northern countries ravaged the land. Raids were frequently led through the village, leaving the people damaged. Those who survived the frequent raids and burnings fled away, escaping to Nayru-knows where. Many speculate that none of the Sheikah survived, but I know otherwise.

Link begins walking between the houses, and I stop in surprise as I hear a soft sound from the rubble of the buildings. Cats begin flooding from their places of refuge and run to Link, all meowing excitedly as if they recognize them. He listens to their meowing and gives small grunts and nods in return.

He can understand them, I realize with a touch of awe.

The cats all quiet down, then begin walking deeper into the village. Link follows after them, turning to beckon me out of my amused state. The end of the dirt path leads to a lone house where a few more cats lounge at the front door. Link approaches it, then looks at me expectantly. I reach forward to knock at the wood tentatively, awaiting a reply. It's a mystery to me why anyone would want to remain alone in the abandoned village. Especially when it looks like it could crumble to rubble at any moment.

A soft voice calls from inside, beckoning us in. I give a look to Link, who nonchalantly waits for me to open the door. I push inside. It takes me a moment to spot the petite, elderly woman inside, sitting on a stool while sewing what looks to be a cat toy. She shows no shock no confusion at the wolf and hooded woman that just entered her home, and rather offers a smile that crinkles her ruby-colored eyes. She catches sight of Link, and gives a knowing look. "It's been much too long, Link," she chuckles and slides off her wooden stool. Only after Link makes a grumbling sound does she acknowledge my presence. I reach up to push back my hood, revealing my face. She does not show any sign of shock, though I know she knows who I am even though I am not wearing my crown or any sign of my royal status.

"Your Majesty," she says fondly and dips her gray head down. "It is not often the queen visits on old lady's dusty house."

"Impaz. It is a delight to see you again after theses many years," I step forward. She looks much older than I remember, and there's a faint hardness in her eyes that I do not remember being there before. "I come seeking help," I say quickly, not wanting to waste any time with more formalities.

"And what ever can a dull old lady such as myself help with?" She leans down to pat one of the many felines scattered about on her carpet.

I reach into the pouch at my waist and produce the orb of contained dark magic and present it for her to see. The moment her eyes land on it, all warmness from her smile disappears and a hard look enters her red eyes. She doesn't hesitate to take the orb from my hand, holding it to the candle light to inspect it. "Ah," she mutters, twirling it thoughtfully. "I had thought such magic no longer corrupted this land."

"I thought it to be Twilight magic," I explain, clasping my hands together. "But upon inspection I suspected it to be something else—something I have not seen since my young years."

"No," Impaz sighs. "This is no magic from the Twilight Realm. It is an ancient, forbidden magic. One that belonged to my people."

I listen anxiously, my suspicions confirmed. "Shadow magic," I breath. "Unique to the Sheikah."

She returns her eyes to mine, nodding thoughtfully. "It was long since banned from this world for many reasons. In ancient times, a Sheikah leader served as a Sage that held power over Shadow magic. She was effective in the using the magic for good, for protecting the royal family. And yet, as power often is, the use of the magic was eventually abused by other Sheikah. Its dark qualities allowed the user to unleash powerful turmoil upon their victims. And thus, it was agreed that the use of such magic should be banned.

"But as people often do, Sheikan people continued using the magic in secret." Impaz holds up the orb into a bit of natural light streaming from a crack in the wall. She mutters a few words, and the light seems to bend and stretch until it spins and engulfs the orb. I watch in wonder as the orb lifts from her palm, surrounded by the blinding light. Soon the darkness within the small sphere fizzles out, disappearing from sight as the stream of light returns to normal.

Impaz turns to stare intently at me, then Link. "You did not contain all the Shadow Magic that attacked you." She says it as a statement rather than a question.

"Link was impaled by a fragment of it, leaving him suspended in wolf form. The magic has put a binding on my own magic, leaving me unable to use it," I explain, a note of worry in my tone. She gives a sigh and approaches me, taking my hand in her own frail, papery hands. "Wise queen," Impaz says softly. "You have suffered much."

I can't help but look away from her pitying gaze. Something in her look implies that she is referring beyond the events that led us here. But I need not be reminded of the pains I have suffered in my life. I've pressed the memory of them deep down in the back of my mind, where they cannot taunt me and make me weak. Hyrule needs a pillar of strength. A ruler that wavers at nothing. A ruler that shows no emotion.

"Impaz," I say, a realization dawning on me. "Who casted the spell? Will they return?" A sudden dread settles like a weight in my stomach. What if I've left the castle open to an attack?

"Do not fret, Majesty," she assures. "Shadow Magic in that form was weak. It was likely cast long ago, and was attracted to the light magic you bear. The caster is either long since dead or months away from the castle."

I would hardly consider the magic weak considering it very nearly claimed Link's life. But despite her words, I feel an odd sense of trepidation.

"What must we do?" I press, glancing down at Link as he stares between us. "How can I help him?"

Impaz presses her warm fingers against the back of my right hand, and I watch as the faint outline of the Triforce flickers into view. It looks as though it's struggling to manifest, and quickly retreats back into my hand and out of view. She gives a nod to herself, as if confirming her suspicions. Gently, she drops my hand and steps back, regarding both Link and I at once.

"You surely have heard legend of the three Springs that the Goddess reborn visited in her time in this realm, long before Hyrule was even given its name," she says.

I nod slowly. "Yes, but it is only legend from what I understand."

Impaz gives me an amused look. "You, Your Majesty, should know of all people that many legends are much more real than people credit them for."

Link shifts, his azure eyes twinkling in what I can only guess is mirth.

"Where can we find these Springs?" I ask, anxious to set after them at once. She turns away toward a lopsided cabinet against the wall and retrieves a wrinkled map from within it. She spreads it out on the floor in front of us, and I lean down to see it closer.

"Power lies in flaming sands of the Gerudo Desert; Wisdom in the flowing water of the Zora; and Courage in the untamed trees of the Faron Woods." Her bony finger follows each place she names. "But listen closely," she says, a note of warning in her voice. "These Springs lie deep within the hearts of each respective area. They will be beyond where you or the Hero have ever traveled. Be wary."

I nod, taking her warnings to heart. "Once we have arrived at each Spring," I prod, "what is to be done? How will I undo what the Shadow Magic has inflicted?" My eyes glance at Link, who sits patiently for response from Impaz.

"You must be the mediator, Your Majesty. You must wade, clean and without impure possession, into the water of the Springs. Reach out to the Goddess of each. Once you have been given acceptance, only then can Link enter the waters and be purified. The Goddesses will give you their blessing," she says with more confidence than I feel.

A nervous and apprehensive feeling forms in my throat. How will we ever find each Spring in time before the four weeks run out? What if the Goddesses don't provide their blessings? I begin to voice such concerns to Impaz, but she cuts me short.

Impaz pats my hand reassuringly, smile warm and grandmotherly. "Have faith in yourself, young Queen. You sell yourself too short. Now," she rolls up the map and places it back in the cabinet. "Before you leave, I have something that will be quite useful on your quest." She pushes aside one of the many wooden boxes littering her house, and pulls out a gleaming lyre. Impaz places it gently in my hands. "The harp has been well-treasured through many generations in my family, ever since the great leader founded this village. Stories tell of queen of Hyrule owned it long ago, and even longer before that, the Goddess reborn.

"Your ancestors know the music notes that will aid you," she says simply as I turn the golden instrument in my hands, fingers tracing the carvings of birds along the gold and down the shimmering strings. Music notes? I haven't even played a harp since—

"Now," Impaz says, interrupting my thoughts with an impatient look, "you may stay the night in the village. But as soon as dawn arrives, you must leave at once to begin your journey."

For a moment, I simply stand with my mind reeling and spinning a thousand words a second. Information flits through my head, sorting it to be able to decipher, riddles and clues hinted by Impaz working away through my brain. But it's almost too much, and a overwhelming pressure of uncertainty begins to settle on my mind.

Impaz allows us to sleep in one of the dusty rooms upstairs, leaving with an apology for the mess. She said she couldn't recall the last time she had a visitor stay. With that, she left us to rest for the night. But as I settle down on the creaky bed, Link curled up on the faded carpet across the room, I find sleep difficult to come by.

I have a feeling the next few weeks will be difficult.

Chapter Text

ZELDA

"Are you ready?" I meet Link's blue gaze shining in the morning sunlight. I can't decide whether I'm asking him or myself. He gives a nod in reply, and begins to make his way out of Old Kakariko. Lapsing back into thought, I follow. How will we ever manage to reach each Spring within four weeks? Even if we do find them, what's to guarantee that the Goddesses will grant their blessing? Sure, I've seen evidence of their presence. In fact, such evidence manifests itself on the back of my hand. But I've never contacted them directly, never heard a single word from the Goddesses. What if the Springs are all simply a myth?

I allow myself a calming breath as we exit the narrow tunnel to where my horse is grazing what little greenery remains on a nearby shrub. Upon arriving by her side, I retrieve a map of my own from a saddle bag and spread it out on the packed earth beneath me. Link arrives at my side, staring at the map as well.

Wisdom in the flowing water of the Zora.

"From where we currently are," I touch my finger to the narrow pass we stand in, "I would say the most practical course of action would be to head northward to the Spring of Wisdom." My ungloved finger follows the Zora River upward along the parchment. "We will inquire at Zora's Domain to see where we might find the Spring," I conclude. Link promptly stands, ready to head out. I certainly cannot blame him for his urgency.

Without a moment more of hesitation, I return the map and mount my horse once again, allowing Link to lead to way to Zora's Domain. A certain anxiousness springs his step, his ears alert and eyes bright. They are signs of hope, of optimism.

I only hope whatever is to come doesn't dampen his spirit.

—-

LINK

The sun falls closer to the horizon, over the desert I cannot see from where I am, though I know it's there. Twilight will soon be upon us, and I can already feel a somberness settle over me. I always feel it at dusk. It's when the sky fades and the world is bathed in a strange, muted glow. It's when everything from three years ago rushes back, bringing memories of her.

Zora's Domain is still at least an hour ahead of us, and we'll be lucky to make it there by nightfall. The sound of rhythmic horse hooves clomps reassuringly behind me, carrying a silent queen upon her back. She has said very little since departing from the Hidden Village, and I know if I were to look back her face would be set in expressionless stone. Zelda is always impossible to read.

So I face forward, leading the way to the Domain. The sun dips low now, settling into the nest of hills in the west. The air around us begins to turn a rusty hue, and the temperature cools. Even the animals seem to quiet down and settle, almost as if they are allowing me to mourn in peace. For the hundredth time in the past three years, I wonder what she is doing right now. Is it dusk in her realm? Is she thinking of a different, lighter world tied to hers?

Midna. Surely she is queen of the Twilight Realm by now, just as Zelda has become queen of ours. My heart stirs uncertainly at the thought of her vibrant hair and daring eyes, her mischievous laugh that I reluctantly learned to smile along to. Even now, I can't quite place my feelings on her. I felt as though a part of me shattered along with the mirror that day, and I know I would go to great lengths just to see her again. Maybe then I could decide if I truly love her or not.

I allow a huff of air from my lungs as I clamber up a rocky section of the pathway, feeling my mood become increasingly solemn until the sun disappears beneath the horizon altogether. In a desperate attempt to distract myself, I force my focus back on the present. The Domain is so close, and I can practically smell the distinct scent of reek fish and wet soil in the air already. Perhaps we will make it before the night drags on too late. Though Hyrule is at peace, I am wary to stay out in the open during nighttime. I've seen what lurks in the darkness. And as a commander of the Royal Guard, it is my duty to protect Zelda from those horrors. Beyond that, it's my duty as a loyal friend. Assuming she considers me that much.

A gasp breaks me from my thoughts, and I spin around to look for Zelda, my senses sharp and ears focused for danger. Through my heightened eyes, I see that she has halted her horse to a slow walk. Zelda's posture shows no sign of distress, however. Her head is tilted skyward, reins slack in her hand. I approach slowly, keeping my eyes on her face, bathed in a soft glow of starlight. The corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly, as if hinting to a smile that she doesn't allow herself to indulge in.

"I've never seen so many stars," she says softly, voice laced with awe. "There are always too many lanterns and lights in Castletown to see them."

I finally allow my eyes to reach to the velvet blue sky above us, absorbing the sight of the twinkling gems spilled in its expanse. It's a view I've seen so often in my lifetime, living in a small village and spending my quests in the wild and sleeping in the open. But after spending the last while in the castle, I've accidentally allowed myself to forget how stunning the stars truly are.

Zelda's breath comes softly, as if she's afraid to disturb the scene with the slightest sound or movement. I look back at her face once again, at her the joy she's subconsciously trying to conceal with her regal mask despite being outside of the castle's confines, without lords and ladies scrutinizing her every move and expression.

I resolve to break that mask.

-o00o-

By the time we arrive at the Domain, the moon has begun its crawl into the night sky. The rush of water echoes off the luminescent walls, leaving a hang of mist in the chilled air. Despite the late hour, several Zoras are swimming lazily about in the main pool. I turn to look at Zelda as she glides gracefully off her mount and ties her to a solid rock. With a quick pat on the the horse's nose, she moves continues up the pathway leading to the throne room high above us at the source of the main waterfall. As we walk by, several Zoras slow to watch us. But they show no signs of recognizing the Queen of Hyrule, as she is garbed in traveling clothes and a cowl about her head.

Once we are just outside of the throne room, Zelda slows and looks at me. "Does Ralis know of your wolf form?"

He's one of the few people I trust enough to relay such information. I nod yes, and she resumes forward until we enter the large, round chamber. A Zora guard halts us at once, eyeing Zelda closely, then me with a wary expression.

"State your name and business," the guard says in an authoritative voice.

"Queen Zelda Harkinian of Hyrule," Zelda replies. "I seek audience the Prince at once."

The guard's eyes widen, then she scrambles to mask her surprise. "Of course. Forgive me, Your Majesty." She turns and waves us after her, silvery-blue fins shimmering from the movement.

We are led around to the throne, which lies empty. The guard tells us to wait a moment, and promptly dives into the round pool in the center of the chamber and disappears into its depths. Within moments a new head resurfaces, this one younger with coral-hued fins. He dives out of the water with the impressive grace that can only belong to a Zora and lands before us. Even from my low vantage point from the ground, I can already tell that Ralis, Prince of the Zoras, has grown quite a bit taller since the last time I saw him. He seems less timid and uncertain as well, and now carries himself with a royal confidence. Upon seeing Zelda, he sweeps into a fluid bow.

"Lady Zelda, it is an honor."

"Prince Ralis." Zelda returns the gesture fondly, then straightens to meet Ralis' emerald eyes. "You must forgive us for rousing you at such a late hour," she begins regretfully. The Zoran prince simply waves her apology off cheerfully. "Anything for dear friends." His gaze lowers to mine and he allows a puzzled look to twist his young face. "Though I must admit, I am rather surprised to see Link here in such a state."

Quiety, Zelda sighs. "That is actually why we have come. May we discuss? Privately?" She adds as she glances around at the Zoras now gathering in the chamber with open curiosity. My fur bristles as being the point of so much attention, and I can practically feel the eyes roving over my figure. Wolves are rare in this part of Hyrule.

"Of course." Ralis beckons us behind his throne, and allows one of his guards to open a stone door hidden behind the grand chair. We follow the young prince inside and into a corridor, leaving us three and the guard alone from the rest of the Domain.

The smooth hallway opens into an open room bathed in a luminescent turquoise and carved in unique Zoran architecture. Several chairs line surround an intricate table at the center of the room.

"Please, have a seat," Ralis invites. Zelda settles at one of the many chairs, and I opt to sit on the ground next to her. The prince finds his way to a seat at the head of the table. I gaze around, realizing this is likely where Ralis holds his council meetings and entertains groups of guests. It's peculiarly empty right now, with only the four of us.

"You were wondering why Link is in wolf form," Zelda begins, and Ralis leans forward on his elbows. "There was an attack on the castle."

For a moment, Ralis only blinks. "It was a rogue spell of magic," she continues, and I try not to allow my confusion show. Is she not going to tell him that it is Shadow Magic? Perhaps he would not know what it was. She's likely trying to save time from explaining the details. "I contained it, so it is no longer a concern. But that does not mean I stopped it before it inflicted havoc. Link was wounded with a shard, and it transformed him into wolf form. Though the piece has been removed from his body, he remains as he is now," Zelda glances at me, then returns her focus to Ralis' concerned face. "It also tampered with my ability to use my own magic."

Prince Ralis blinks once, then leans further into the table. "And what can help can I offer? Surely there is a way to undo what has been done?"

Zelda nods, her dark braid sliding against the her shoulders. "That is why we have come. There is legend of three Springs across Hyrule." She removes her folded map from a pouch on her belt and spreads it flat against the smooth table. "The Spring of Wisdom, of the Goddess Nayru, is said to be within Zora territory. To reverse the curses on Link and me, we must visit each Spring, beginning with Wisdom."

Ralis' eyes rove over the map, and he stands to get a closer look. He is quiet for a long time, thinking. "I have heard of the legend of the springs. It makes sense for Goddess Nayru's Spring to be in our territory, considering she is the deity we worship the most devoutly." He places a webbed finger to his pale lips, and then looks between Zelda and I. "Though, I do not know where the exact location of the Spring would be."

I sigh, frustrated. I itch to stand up and pace, but I do not want to seem disrespectful and impatient to Ralis. Not for the first time in the past couple days, I curse my form. Though I am by no means a talkative person, I would like to contribute to the conversation. But instead, I sit quietly, awaiting Zelda's response. She shows no break in her composure, and regards Ralis with her usual emotionless mask, though I can see calculations and thoughts whirring in the depths of her violet-blue eyes. "Is there a place of worship, or of exclusive area to the Zoras? Perhaps it would be hidden there."

Ralis' green eyes light up, and he quickly looks at the map. "Yes, there is." His finger points to an empty area just above the Domain. "There is a lake of sorts that used to house the great Jabu-Jabu, near the top of the mountain. Maybe it is there?"

"But Your Highness," a voice interrupts from behind us, and I turn to see the guard with a tight grip on his spear. "I beg your forgiveness—but the lake is sacred. It is limited to only to members of the Zora royal family." His brown eyes look pointedly at Zelda and me.

"Kima," Ralis says without bothering to hide is impatience, "this is a matter of dire circumstance, and I trust Lady Zelda and Commander Link wholly. Such petty traditions have no place in a situation such as this."

The guard nods, and swallows hard. His eyes are still hard with disapproval, but he says no more.

Ralis allows his cheerful smile back on his face as he looks back to us, a new resolution making his eyes glint with excitement. "I shall escort you to the lake at dawn. But for now, I insist you rest for the night in the guest chambers."

Zelda takes a deep breath, the only sign of her relief at finding a promising lead to the Spring. "I cannot thank you enough, Your Highness. You are truly Goddess-send."

Ralis offers a beaming grin. "Please, call me Ralis."

—-

ZELDA

My eyes trace the intricate, round carvings in the cerulean ceiling above me. Sleep evades me, despite the long day of traveling. A weary tiredness burns in the backs of my eyes, yet I cannot seem to will my mind to fall asleep. There's too much information churning in my head.

A soft huff of air escapes from Link on his spot on the ground, several paces away. I insisted that he take a room for himself—just because he's a wolf doesn't mean he deserves to sleep on a floor in a queen's room—but shook his head unwaveringly. Though he may not be in a position to serve as commander of the Royal Guard to his full extent, he clearly is intent on fulfilling his duties to the best of his capabilities. Which means staying close to my side since I brought no guards with me. Link being alone with me in my suite would cause poor Velar's heart to cease beating at the sheer impropriety of it, but the circumstances are quite unorthodox. Admittedly, I was somewhat glad Link insisted on staying in the same room as me. His presence allows me some familiar comfort, and an assurance that I will be safe.

Quietly, I turn on my plush bed to peer at Link curled up on the stone ground, fast asleep. My back practically aches from the thought of sleeping on stone, but he doesn't seem to mind.

What if I can't help him?

The thought flits through my mind, unbidden. The Springs are our only hope in restoring Link to his Hylian form. And yet, so much relies on my competence to converse with the Goddesses—and that idea alone is intimidating. How am I to even address a goddess? What if they deny my pleas?

I sigh, and Link's ear twitches subconsciously at the sound.

Failure is not a unfamiliar feeling. I've failed my kingdom before. The consequences of my inability to defend against Zant were nearly enough to break my resolve during the Twilight Invasion. Being locked in a tower, powerless to help my people all the while cursing myself for my weakness is something I am uncertain I'll ever be able to forgive myself for.

And if I were to fail Link…

Silently, I close my eyes and shake my head. I must try my best. For Link. I imagine is striking eyes and easy smile, his unruly, sun-streaked hair. If I imagine hard enough, I can nearly recall his deep laugh after a soldier says something amusing.

I will do all in my power to see his face again, to hear his gentle voice. I owe him everything, for saving my people and kingdom.

With a feeling of resolve settled in my mind, my consciousness slowly slips away to the soft sounds of Link's breaths.

-o00o-

Despite my restless night of sleep, I wake just as dawn is breathing light through the curtained window. I sit up, allowing the silky blankets to fall at my waist like water, and peer down to see Link still fast asleep. My heart warms with humor—he is infamous for his love of sleep. One of the hardest parts of joining the Royal Guard for him was sacrificing sleeping in as late as he wanted—though he would never admit as much.

As softly as I can, I slip from the bed and into the joined washroom to change into a crisp new tunic and slim trousers, feeling apprehensive and excited for what the day holds. My gaze wanders to the woman in the mirror's reflection, my hair a chestnut brown wound in a loose sleeping braid and skin fair from a life confined within a castle. Slowly I meet my own gaze, frownling softly as wizened eyes stare back at me. They hold a sadness that I hide beneath a sturdy mask, and a weight that can only belong to a queen barely past the age of twenty. These old eyes belong to someone thrice my age.

Quickly, I break contact away from my reflection. They remind me too much of things I've desperately tried to forget.

With a soft sigh, I rebraid my hair, hook the gold harp to my waist, and exit the washroom to find Link stretching awake from his spot on the ground. His ears twitch at the sound of my boots against the floor, and he quickly turns to face me.

For a moment, I am silent as I try to decipher what emotion lies in his eyes. Hope and excitement, I think. He is an adventurer, after all.

"The Goddesses await," I say simply, and gesture for him to follow me out the door and into the hallway.

Several guards accompany us as we make our way back to Ralis' chambers, and one with greenish fins taps lightly on the intricate door once we arrive. Within moments, the door opens and the teenage prince emerges with a familiar smile.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," Ralis bows his head fondly. "I hope you rested well."

"I must thank you again for your accommodations," I reply simply.

He waves a webbed hand through the air as if dismissing the thanks. "Please, follow me."

The Domain has always fascinated me with its tasteful architecture and winding hallways. The walls and supportive beams glow with a ethereal luminescence, one that I have learned originates from luminous stones, an ore native to the Domain's territory. Each carving and design on the furnishings and walls reminds me of different seashells. No matter where I am in the Domain, sounds of water are never absent, whether it be the roar of its many waterfalls or droplets echoing in the hallways. It truly is beyond anything Hylian-built, and I know I could spend hours with Zoran architects and historians just learning everything there is about the Domain.

But now is certainly not the time for such endeavors, I think as we hustle through the shining hallways.

Ralis, despite his young stature and previous insecurities, holds himself confidently as he leads us and two guards back to the council room that we used last night. But he does not stop to offer us a seat, and instead heads to the back to face a solid, carved wall. We all come to a stop as Ralis glances back at us with a smile that almost comes across as secretive. He then reaches to remove a pendant from a pouch at his waist. The pendant is composed of three crescent moons attached at their backs, each holding a small blue gem in their curve. The prince lifts the pendant to a small indent in the wall resembles the symbol, and presses it in place. For a moment, all is still and I stare at Ralis expectantly.

Suddenly, a section of the wall slides noiselessly aside, revealing a worn staircase leading upwards. "Come," Ralis waves as he leads us inside. He motions at one guard I do not recognize to follow with us, who removes the pendant on the way in and allows the wall to slide back into place.

The stairs are damp with water, and I grasp carefully to the wall in a desperate attempt to not slip on their smooth surface. Link follows closely behind me, likely ready to catch me incase as much occurs. Though, I don't know how much he can help, considering his condition.

The stairwell extends for a long distance until at last, natural morning light begins to flood the space from above. The scent of pine trees and brisk air hits my nose at once, and I feel my steps become quicker in hopes of leaving the narrow stairway as soon as possible.

"You can consider yourselves very lucky that you'll be witnessing this gem of the royal family," Ralis says as he takes the final steps out of the confines of the corridor. He awaits as the rest of us three climb out and into the morning sunlight. My heart flutters in awe as soon as the scene greets my eyes.

We are on what appears to be a wide plateau, with a massive lake sparkling on the center. Tall pine trees line the water, and tall grasses sway in the soft breeze. Song birds twitter in the air as they begin their day. It is utterly serene, and possess a gentle power that thrums peacefully in each pine needle and drop of glittering water.

"Welcome to the royal lake," Ralis says reverently. "A large majority of the Domain's water originates from this body of water, which comes from underground. It is a sacred place to the Zora royal family. A place of worship."

He turns his green eyes to Link and me with a sudden solemn look. "There are few in this world that I trust more than you, Lady Zelda and Commander Link." The comment hangs in the air more like a stern warning than a compliment. "And so I shall entrust you two to search the premises for the Spring of Wisdom in your sacred quest. I'm afraid this is as much as I can help you," he says softly as he steps back to the stairwell. "Best of luck. I shall return this time tomorrow if your presence is still absent."

With that, he beckons the shocked guard to lead him back down the stair. Clearly allowing Hylians access to the Zoras' most sacred grounds is uncommon.

The two men's footsteps fade into silence as I turn to face the expanse of the plateau. Where do I even start?

"If I am wholly honest," I say softly, and Link's ear twitches in response, "I am completely at a loss where to start."

A huff of air is his only response, as if agreeing with me. Without another thought, he begins walking toward the shore, sniffing the fresh air softly for any signs. I follow suit, allowing my eyes to search and prod every bit of the scene around me for anything that may clue to the Spring. Surely there would be some marking of Nayru or monument to signify it?

The cool breeze on my skin clears my head as I step through the rich pine trees and grass. Link heads the other direction to search, though I feel his gaze return to me periodically as if to ensure I am all right.

Though I feel a slight undertone of magic buzzing in the area, I can't seem to pinpoint where it is originating from. It seems to fill every space on the plateau, starting from nowhere. I walk around the small lake once, twice, then explore deeper into the trees. Nothing out of the ordinary appears, no hints. For someone with no magic in their blood to tell of the power in the place, it would seem like any other lake.

The day wears on, and soon the sun approaches its afternoon mark in the sky. A slight sheen of sweat begins to collect on my face from the heat of the sunlight. Insects buzz in the heat and fill my ears. Chipmunks scatter the ground as I step around the trees, allowing my fingertips to run along the rough pine needles.

Perhaps in a place of magic like this, my own light magic will come more readily? Since that day in the castle courtyards, I have tried time and time again to summon my magic for even a slight flame to light a candle. And yet, I can no longer seem to access it in the slightest bit. Before the attack, I could easily light an entire room of candles and lanterns with a simple flick of my hand. Now, even the marking of the Triforce doesn't resonate on my hand, other than when Impaz summoned it at her home. But even then, it struggled to manifest as if some unbidden force was straining it.

I take a deep breath of fresh air, and hold out my hand experimentally. My eyelids slide close, and I allow all my concentration to focus on summoning even the weakest bit of light magic. I can feel the power somewhere within myself, and yet it does not respond.

Nothing.

My eyebrows furrow in frustration between the lack of success of summoning my magic and not finding any clues to the Spring. We only have four weeks to find each of the three Springs...what if time runs out before we find them all? What if it takes four weeks to find even just one Spring?

I open my eyes again as I run the back of my hand against my forehead, trying to suppress the feeling of panic rising in my throat.

I won't be cowed so easily.

A sharp bark breaks my thoughts, and I spin around to race back to the lake's shore through the trees. For a moment, I see nothing but blinding sunlight and swaying pine trees—but then I catch sight of Link not far away, barking once again as he sees me. I hurry over to him, and he gestures to follow him into the trees a ways before stopping. Link presses his nose to the ground before us, nudging the pine needles aside a bit. I squat down beside him, trying to see closer. Excitedly, he begins digging away at the soil and pine needles. I'm about to ask him what he's found when I hear the scratch of nail against stone and the words stop in my throat.

Without another thought, I help him in pushing away leaves and pine needles until I see the stone, flat and darkened with age. We spend several minutes clearing away its surface, until a large and shallow platform as wide as I am tall stares back at us, the weathered carving of the Triforce in its center.

I sit back on my heels, staring at the stone in confusion. What is this supposed to be? An entrance of some sort? My fingers slide around the edges to find a possible latch or perhaps script explaining what it is, but I find nothing. I glance back at Link to see if he has any ideas, but his eyes are equally as clueless.

I am about to suggest we inquire Ralis when a gleam of color catches my attention above us. I glance up in surprise to see an odd sight.

A sleek owl shining an otherworldly gold glides silently through the trees above us. At first Link begins to bristle in defense at the sight, but as the owl flies closer, he relaxes his stance. His eyes watch the bird with a sense of confusion and….recognition?

Slowly, I rise to my feet, eyes never leaving the strange bird. It settles on a branch above us, and stares at me with shockingly ruby-red eyes that seem to glow in the sunlight. Link also stands, and for a moment all is silent at we face the gold avian.

A take a gentle breath as I scan my memories of folklore and legends for golden birds. One told of a golden cucco...but owl?

The owl blinks once. Then just as suddenly as it appeared, it glides off of the branch, sweeping toward me with shocking speed. I barely have time to gasp as it meets me, though I do not feel the collision of feathers that I expected. All I see is white.

Chapter Text

ZELDA

My body feels heavy as my awareness returns to me, and slowly I clamber to my feet as I blink away vertigo. I startle when I no longer recognize my surroundings, the pine forest and lake gone and replaced with a white, foggy expanse. Where am I?

Goosebumps rise on my skin as I become aware of another presence. I spin on my feet to face the same golden owl from the forest, now standing calmly on the ground before me. Despite the unworldly circumstances, I feel only calmness as I stare face-to-face with the bird's piercing eyes.

But the logical side of my brain tells me to be on my toes, so I allow my hand to slack to be ready to summon my rapier out of habit. But my magic is gone, I remind myself. I am completely defenseless except for the small daggers I have hidden on my person.

But the owl shows no hostility, and lifts its wings into a wide span and lets out a chilling shriek before being engulfed in light and feathers. One of my hands finds the handle of my dagger, while the other lifts to shield my eyes from the blinding spectacle.

The brilliant light subsides as quickly as it begins. The owl is gone, replaced by a figure cloaked in a heavy robe, one emblazoned with faint symbols of the Sheikah's dripping eye. The figure's face is covered by the shadow of a hood. The sight sends a shiver through my body. I sense a strong force. Power.

"You seek help." The voice is feminine and strangely gentle as it echoes through the white expanse. When I don't respond, the figure lifts her head upwards until I feel myself reel in shock. The face beneath the hood is completely skeletal, with pale bone gleaming in the ethereal light. Within her empty sockets are a soft glow of red, though they don't appear menacing. They hold a depth of regret and sadness.

"I shall grant you aid to the best of my ability," she continues. Her accent seems strangely familiar, and with soft pronunciation and fluid syllables.

It sounds like my own.

Still, I say nothing and continue staring on apprehensively. "Wise child," she breathes, "you have no need to question me. My intentions are innocent. If you wish to save your hero, you would do well to trust me."

My heart sinks as I am reminded of Link's predicament, and my own. I straighten my shoulders and plaster my face into an emotionless stare.

"What can you offer me?"

Now is her time to say nothing. She shifts underneath her gray robes, and they part as she holds up a harp much like mine, except its shine is worn with age and looks as though it's on the brink of crumbling into dust. The figure's hands, too, are skeletal and spindly like sewing needles, though they are decorated in fine rings and gems. Her marriage finger is notably absent of any jewels, and I allow myself to feel a twinge of sorrow for her. What would it be like to die without being married, without having children? Though perhaps is it a preferable alternative to people like me, who are forced unwillingly into marriage for political advantage. Maybe dying alone and free would be better than dying with a stranger.

The skeleton shifts so I can see slightly beneath her robe. A dress yellowed with age hangs from her spindly frame, though the fabric looks as though it was great quality in its day. Along the hems of the fabric I can make out what looks to be the royal crest, the Triforce held by a phoenix. To wear the crest of the royal family...she must have had close ties when she was alive.

"Your day lacks the magic it had when I lived," she begins, claiming my attention from scrutinizing her attire. "Hylians have become greedy and modernized. Too reliant on material than the simple things that breathe life into their very being." She shifts the harp to rest in the crook of her elbow, other hand hovering above the strings and ready to play. "One such lost magic is the power found in music. And that is how I will help you. I will return lost songs to the realm of the living, songs with an holy power that you would do well to learn."

The light in her eyes drift to look down at my own harp, still tied at my waist. Understanding at once, I unbind it and mirror her stance and ready to learn. But how will music help me? I need to know where the Spring lies, or even how to communicate with the Goddesses.

I voice none of my concerns aloud, though she seems to shake her head lightly.

"Faith, my child. Now listen closely."

Her ivory fingers begin plucking at the ancient strings, and they respond with a surprisingly clear sound that echoes through the foggy realm. She begins playing a gentle song that reminds me of water, the notes flowing and reassuring. After she plays the phrase of the music twice, she looks back to me expectantly.

I respond by playing the notes back to her, easily memorizing the song. The music is calming, and true to her words I feel a humming sense of magic hanging in the air with the last few notes as I finish playing and look back to the skeletal woman before me.

"This serenade will be key to finding what you seek," her voice rasps. Slowly, she approaches closer to me until I can see the harsh shadows on her pale skull.

"Do not allow doubts to tarnish your mission," she warns gently as if reading the worry in the back of my head. I am so unused to being read so easily, but I don't allow the suspicion to show on my face. "You must grow in this trial. Do not let yourself deny truths and follow falsehood. It will only lead you to more misery."

With that, she steps back. "We will meet again, young queen, when you need me next." The ghostly woman begins lifting her arms.

"Wait," I halt her. "Will you tell me who you are?"

She hums thoughtfully. "What purpose do you have in asking a question that you already know the answer to?"

I tilt my head in confusion and step forward. "What—?"

But she doesn't allow me to question her further, and lifts her arms. Her heavy cloak reminds me of wings as she spreads them outwards. The sight of the foggy expanse and the skeletal woman fades away until I see nothing but blinding white.

—

LINK

Worry eats away at my insides as I pace around Zelda's form, lying unconscious on her back and eyes beneath her eyelids fluttering as if in a wild dream. The golden owl disappeared as soon as it made contact with Zelda, to which she promptly collapsed and I caught her head from hitting the stone slab beneath her. It's been what seems like hours now since she fell unconscious.

I've only seen golden animals on a couple other occasions, most interestingly being the gold wolf, which was the earthly form of a ghostly spirit that taught me long-forgotten combat skills. This owl seemed so similar, with glimmering feathers and piercing red eyes, though not missing one like the wolf did. As I traveled about Hyrule to find ancient temples and dungeons on my quest, I came across the wolf on several occasions. Despite my questioning in villages, it seemed no one else had ever seen it before. The spirit seemed to be tied to me, somehow. The skeletal ghost had never said who he was, and the most I gathered from the training was that he also was a chosen hero in the past. His weathered armor resembled the royal guard's armor somewhat, so I assume he must have been a soldier for the royal family as well. But once he passed on his final skill to me, I never saw any sign of a gold wolf again.

Perhaps this owl is another spirit taking form as an animal in the world of the living, sent to Zelda?

I shake my head in confusion, and turn to look at her fair face once again. She almost looks peaceful now, with her expression relaxed and lips slightly parted. Her breathing is strong and normal, so I know she is not unsafe. Gently, I nudge her shoulder with my paw in hopes of waking her. But once again, she does not stir. So I settle beside her, watching her face anxiously.

Zelda's eyes flutter open, revealing their pale violet-blue as she struggles to resurface from her unconsciousness. I stand quickly, backing up to allow her space as she sits up and shakes her dizziness away. For a moment she massages her temples in thought, then glances above us at the trees as if looking for the owl. But the world around us is strangely quiet and still, and absent of any strange owls.

"I know what to do," she blinks as if suddenly remembering something important. Excitedly, she scrambles to her feet and steps back onto the stone platform we uncovered what seems like hours ago. As she centers herself over the Triforce engraved on its surface, she unties the harp from her waist. Cautiously, I walk up to her, noting the excitement sparked in the depths of her eyes. She places her feet so that she's face toward the lake, and positions the harp to play.

Gentle notes hang in the air as she plucks the strings, and she closes her eyes in concentration as she recalls the music. The song is short, and within moments, she plays the last note and allows it to drift in the warm air as she opens her eyes expectantly.

I tune in closely to the world around us, waiting for a change. After a few breaths, birds in the trees resume their idle tunes and I hear insects buzzing in the distance over the water. My gaze meets Zelda's as she furrows her eyebrows slightly.

"Perhaps this is not where I was supposed to play it?" She steps off the stone and looks around expectantly and slightly puzzled.

But suddenly the water of the lake begins to quiver and shake, droplets flying through the air and landing on the fine sand at the shore. The rumbling stops, and the water level begins to slowly lower. Zelda ties the harp back to her waist and follows the water as it retreats downward, leaving mud and beached fish in its wake. I follow after her, keeping my senses peeled for any sign of danger. The water drains until a stone ramp surfaces, covered in a film of algae and crumbling away from years of being immersed, then the water level stops its retreat. My eyes follow the ramp curiously to see that it leads to a cave entrance within the side of the soil where the lake's water once was.

The sight reminds me eerily of the Lakebed Temple deep beneath Lake Hylia. Images of electric aquatics and hours spent deciphering the complex puzzles surface in my mind. I can only hope that this cave does not hold anything similar to the Temple.

After observing the sight, I look up to at Zelda. Her eyebrows are no longer furrowed, and her eyes glow with excitement. Her lips twitch in anticipation. So close, I lament. So close to a smile.

"I believe we have found the entrance." Her eyes meet mine, and she walks onto the stone ramp, minding the slick surface. We walk to the mouth of the cave, and I sniff the cool air flowing from it. The scent of wet stone and rusted metal reaches my nose. I wonder how long it has been since people last set foot into this cave; perhaps hundreds of years ago—or maybe the last person was the Goddess-reborn, Zelda's supposed ancestor, herself.

The two of us enter the damp cave, both on our toes for any signs of danger. The cave leads downwards in a narrow passage, until it ends at a stone door. Stone pegs of some sort cover the surface, and I turn my head trying to decipher their meaning. Zelda experimentally pushes on the door, finding that it is sealed shut as I suspected.

"Five pegs," she mutters quietly, and her fingers begin tapping softly against her leg as she thinks. "It's a puzzle."

Curiously, she reaches forward to slide one of the pegs down its slot and back up. It clicks ten times each way up and down. The sound of wet stone against stone makes my fur rise.

Zelda steps back, eyes calculating and thoughtful as her fingers continue thrumming against her thigh. It's a sight I've seen many times back at the castle, when she's doing paperwork or sorting out a trading routes with foreign dignitaries. Over time, I realized it's a sight I can't help but smile at, as I can practically see the gears turning in her head as they solve the issue. There's not a single person I've met that is more brilliant than my queen.

"Five pegs," she repeats softly as she reaches out to touch the first one. "Five notes. Do you read music, Link?" Her eyes meet mine as she glances over her shoulder. I shake my head. Music has never been my strong suit—Ilia always teased me for being tone-deaf when we were kids—but she doesn't need to know that.

She makes a noise of teasing disappointment. "That's a shame, because it seems this is a music staff with five notes." The peg clicks ten times as she slides it to the bottom. She moves to the next peg eight clicks downward. So forth with each peg, until they are placed in a sort of ascending order. Zelda steps back again to look at her work, humming the same song she played on the harp only moments ago. Something shifts somewhere within the stone door.

Zelda stops humming abruptly, as if catching herself, then presses on the door again. This time, it creaks open. I help her push it aside, allowing it to open up into a massive chamber.

"Well," Zelda mutters, "that certainly was less difficult than I was expecting."

Upon entering, several torches in the foyer light themselves, illuminating the space in a warm glow. I turn and look up at Zelda, be only shakes her head as if to say, wasn't me.

We step further into the chamber, taking in the sight of the tall ceiling covered in knots of tree roots. Spaces between the roots and earth allow natural sunlight to filter down onto the still water of the Spring. Ancient pillars of ivory stone support a stone overhang that ends where the water begins. At the end of the Spring's water awaits a statue of the Goddess Hylia, crudely sculpted and features beginning to smooth from the elements.

My eyes return to Zelda, and I see her shiver slightly as her eyes lie on the statue. My magical abilities are not even half of what she is capable of, yet I can still feel the powerful thrum of energy resonating from the water. I can only imagine how strong it seems to a magic bearer as talented as Zelda.

"We made it." Her voice is a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the sacred place. She approaches the water and kneels on the rough stone, and places a fingertip to the glassy surface. Quickly, she flinches away as if burned. I rush to her side in concern.

"I am fine," Zelda reassures as she sits back on her heels and stares at her fingertip. "The power...it is so potent. It felt like electricity."

I look back at the water curiously, but she warns me. "Do not touch it yet. From what Impaz said, I need to speak with the Goddess for your sake before you can enter the Spring."

Heeding her words, I sit back a ways, ears settling back slightly. I don't like the idea of Zelda having to work so hard and face even the Goddesses for my sake. It doesn't seem right considering her position as queen. I am supposed to serve her, not the other way around.

"Please, Link," she says softly, searching my face. "Let me help. It's the least I can do to repay for everything you have done for me—for my kingdom."

When I show no response, she stands to slip off her boots and sets them gently on the ground behind us. She faces the water, looking uncertain. "I bear the Triforce of Wisdom...a holy marking bestowed from the Goddesses themselves. And yet," she glances up at the statue of Hylia, "I will admit that I have never actually spoken with a goddess before." She says nothing more, and her eyes harden in a look of determination. I know the circumstances intimidate her, but I also know better than to doubt Zelda. Once she has set her mind to something, nothing can deter her.

With that, she puts one foot in the water, then the other. A gasp escapes her lips as she suddenly steps back out, and we both stare at the hem of her leggings in surprise. The stitching and threads of the fabric are slightly unraveled where the Spring's water touched it. A few threads still hang in the water, and we watch as they unwind further and seem to dissolve. My eyes quickly check over Zelda's skin hasn't been damaged like the fabric of her leggings, and breathe in relief to see she is fine.

"'You must wade, clean and without impure possession, into the water of the Springs'. That is what Impaz said," Zelda considers. "...Perhaps fabric is 'impure' and unclean?" To test her theory, pulls a loose thread from her tunic and places it in the Spring's water. We both watch in confused awe as it, too, dissolves into the water.

My awe is quickly replaced with realization as Zelda stands.

"Link." She refuses to meet my eyes, instead looking at the goddess statue across the water. "Can you face away and guard the entrance?"

Quickly, I do as she says, sitting under the stone overhang with my back to the Spring. If I weren't in wolf form, I know my face would be burning red.

"Promise not to look?" I hear Zelda say softly behind me. The tone of her voice is unfamiliar, and I suddenly feel somber. It sounds so unsure and shy, and reminds me of how young she truly is. She may be a queen that survived war and death, a queen that has been raised to lead a kingdom to glory—but she still is only a young woman with insecurities.

I allow a soft wuff as a promise, and she says nothing more.

My heart pounds as I become acutely aware of the rustle of fabric behind me. I flinch as I hear it drop onto the stone. For a moment, all is silent save for the gentle sound of her breaths. I consider how improper this all is, and resist the urge to laugh. The old, creaky men and women on Zelda's council would likely be outraged.

But then, I become grateful that of all the people for her to be on this journey with, that it's me. Any other man would take the opportunity to spy on her, to disrespect her. I've heard whispers among my soldiers and even the Royal Guard men discussing how undeniably beautiful the queen is. Some bold soldiers make more suggestive and obscene comments. Such comments are quickly cut off when I hear them. Zelda deserves more respect than any woman I know—and only partly because she's the queen.

Her footsteps splash as I hear her the Spring, the water swishing softly as she wades. My ears twitch as I hear her exhale deeply. The air is still, as if the entire world is waiting for the next moment in anticipation.

"Holy Goddess Nayru." Her smooth voice echoes through the chamber. "I come seeking help."

All is silent for several breaths. I don't know what I expect, whether I will be able to hear Nayru speak back or if this will even work at all.

Please, I plead to no one in particular, to anyone. Please work.

"Holy Goddess Nayru," Zelda tries again. But then she shouts in surprise, and the sound is cut off by the harsh crash of water, and I hear nothing more. Without thinking, I spin around the face the Spring, teeth bared and ready to attack.

The water is rippling, disturbed. Waves crash against the stone and at the foot of the Goddess statue.

Zelda is nowhere to be seen.

—

ZELDA

I feel like I'm being dragged down through an infinite ocean. My lungs scream for air, and my unbound hair flies above me from the force pulling me downward. Desperately, I reach out to grasp onto something, anything.

And then it stops.

I'm standing on my feet, which are planted on solid ground that glows with a soft light. A shallow layer of water stands on the surface, coming just to my ankles. My eyes wander upwards to find the sky a dark blanket of pure blackness. I recognize where I am instantly, for I have been here once before.

The Sacred Realm.

Just as I am admiring the unfamiliar white gown I am suddenly garbed in, a sound startles me.

"Welcome, bearer of my own," a gentle voice says behind me, and I turn on my heel to face the source.

A beautiful, otherworldly woman stands before me, clothed in ivory robes. Her pale skin practically glistens in the ethereal light of the Sacred Realm, her blue eyes shining with intelligence. Her hair is a silvery-blue, and shifts and sways as if it's made of water. A gold circlet rests on her forehead, with a golden emblem hanging from it that looks exactly like the pendant Ralis used to open the secret door leading to the lake. It's the mark of the Zoras, the mark of Nayru.

At once I bow low onto my knees, and incline my head to my chest. I can feel my erratic heartbeat pounding against my ribcage. How do I even address a goddess?

"Rise, child. There is no need for such formality." Nayru says gently.

I do as she says at once, nervously meeting her stare. She clasps her hands behind her back and studies my face quietly.

"Yes," the goddess says after some time. "I see. You have been attacked. You and the Bearer of Courage."

I say nothing, unsure if I should wait to be given permission to speak. Instead, I bow my head in confirmation. My skin practically itches under Nayru's piercing stare, as if she can see straight through me and into my thoughts.

She very likely can.

Without breaking her gaze, she brings a finger to her lips and cocks her head slightly, intrigued. "Why should I give you my blessing, wise queen? Convince me."

I lift my chin slightly, trying to remain composed. Though my pulse is pounding wildly through my body, I won't let my nervousness show. "Link has done nothing but good for the world of mortals. His leadership and wellbeing is important to the castle and the entire kingdom."

She nods, as if in approval. "Yes, the chosen hero has done much, and has potential for much more. But, Zelda, why should I heal you?"

I blink at the question. Isn't it obvious? I am a queen with no heir, the last of my blood. To the council and nobility, I am expendable without my divine powers claiming that I am of Hylia's blood. The kingdom knows of my advanced magic, and without it they would doubt my strength to rule.

Suddenly I find myself fighting a frown. Is the stability of my rule truly placed on my magical competence rather than my intelligence and ability to rule properly? But after the Twilight Invasion, I know I lost the confidence of many of my closest supporters and even the commoners for my weakness of surrendering to the Usurper King. I wish I could have been stronger, found a way out of being forced from my throne...but I couldn't. I know the whispers blame me for the entire Twilight Invasion. Perhaps they're not entirely wrong to place the blame upon me.

Nayru gives me a sudden sad look as I scramble for a reason and fight myself mentally. "Your head is tainted with doubt," she states simply. "But not just any doubt. You do not think yourself worthy to rule." The way she says it sounds almost like an accusation, and I open my mouth to defend myself. But she spoke the truth, did she not?

"I give my all to Hyrule," I say instead. My voice is soft, but I know she hears me. "I always have, and I will continue to do so until death claims me. But I am uncertain if I alone am enough to satisfy my people."

The goddess says nothing, waiting for me to continue.

"With my magic, I can assure the kingdom's safety better than if I am powerless. I am certain that many people only tolerate my rule simply because of my divine birthright."

Nayru hums thoughtfully and gives me a strange look of sorrow.

"You sell yourself so short, my chosen one," she shakes her head sadly. "One day you will find that your true power lies in your mind, and that your value is not defined by your status, nor you magical capabilities."

I swallow the lump in my throat and look down at my feet, saying nothing more.

"Regardless," she continues, "I will grant my blessing to you and the chosen hero."

My eyes snap upwards, and the warmth of victory fills my chest. I place my hand over my heart and bow at my waist. "I am eternally grateful, Your Grace."

Nayru steps toward me as I rise again and places the tips of her fingers against my forehead. I suppress a shiver as I sense her magic so closely.

"Be wary, Bearer. Your journey brings deceitfulness and uncertainty, but let wisdom guide you through."

I nod once against her fingers. She turns her head to the side slightly, her hair rippling like water from the movement. "And Zelda," she gives me a thoughtful look, "only a fool denies her heart."

Confused, I blink and open my mouth to reply. But the words get caught in my throat as my surroundings become engulfed with blinding blue light until I see nothing more.

Chapter Text

I burst out of the Spring, coughing and sputtering before gasping for air. I rub the water from my eyes, and pause in awe as I see a flash of blue flow through the veins in the back of my hand. The light travels beneath my skin and up my arms until it reaches my chest. The surge of power nearly takes the oxygen back out of my lungs, but it quickly subsides and the light disappears.

Nayru's blessing.

My senses return to me more clearly now, and I hear harsh barking behind me. I hug my arms to myself as a shiver runs down my spine from the chilly water. I look over my shoulder to see Link standing at the edge of the water, still frantically barking at me with his fur raised on end.

"Link," I shout over his voice, "you promised not to turn around."

His barking quickly ceases, though I hear him growl slightly as he turns to sit with his back to me. Suddenly exhausted, I turn and wade through the Spring with heavy steps. The water rolls off of me as I climb out, and I quickly pull my clothing on. Within seconds, the fabric begins soaking through and does little to warm me. For a moment I panic, remembering how my leggings had unraveled when I first stepped into the Spring, but I observe my clothing is still in tact. Perhaps once the water is removed from the Spring itself, it loses its magic and becomes ordinary water?

As I wring my hair dry, I say to Link softly, "Nayru has given us her blessing. You may enter the Spring now."

Cautiously, he turns to face the water and looks everywhere but me. He nods once, and steps into the Spring. Though the water only reached my waist, it is deep enough that he has to swim to stay above the surface. Only a few seconds pass before a similar blue light sparks from the ends of his fur into his core, and I see him shudder slightly. The cavern is eerily quiet as he swims back and steps onto the stone. He ensures he is a decent distance from me, and shakes the water from his fur.

I slowly seat myself on the stone, leaving space between me and the Spring. My fingers move to braid my hair, and I allow my brain to go numb in the movement. I feel completely drained of energy, almost as if my mortal body could not handle the exposure of being in the presence of goddess. But when I focus, my magic feels a little nearer, a little stronger. It is still only a fraction of what it once was, but Nayru's blessing undoubtedly affected it for the better.

One Spring down, two to go, I think. I pray desperately to Hylia that the other two will be as accessible as this one. I also make a note to thank Ralis for his unwavering trust and generosity.

My thoughts fade as I realize Link is finally looking at me, a look of concern in his eyes. I must look as spent as I feel. "Perhaps we should spend the night in here," I offer, dreading the long hike back to the Domain. The little streams of light from the cracks in the root systems above the Spring have long since faded, and I can already feel the air cooling even all the way down here. It is likely dusk now.

Link nods, though his gaze lingers on my face with the look of concern still present. An unbidden shiver shakes me, and he suddenly stands and rushes out of the chamber. I blink in surprise as his figure disappears in the dark corridor. I consider following after him, but my limbs won't seem to obey. So I wait, breathing quietly in the dim chamber.

A few minutes later, I hear an odd scraping sound echo through the cave and instantly go still. The noise grows louder as it nears, and I fumble to take my dagger from its sheath at my thigh. I flinch back as a pile of sticks and branches tumble into my view, followed by Link with soil across his nose from pushing them. I practically sigh in relief as I resheath my blade and crawl forward to gather the wood in the center of the stone ground.

"Thank you," I breathe as Link helps me move the wood. He sits back as we finish, and moves to nose through my pack on the ground for flint. But I reach my hand forward over the pile of branches and concentrate, willing my magic to surface.

It comes more readily now, though still strained. I furrow my eyebrows in focus, imagining the wood combusting even the slightest spark. When it does exactly that, I nearly jump in surprise. The dry branches and sticks quickly catch flame, and cast a warm light over the once-dark chamber. Link looks up from my pack in confusion, then looks excited at the sight of fire. His eyes meet mine, and I hold back a grin.

Link and I both settle close to the fire, revelling in its warmth. My eyes grow heavy and my brain muddled as I stare in the mesmerizing flames. Eventually I give up the fight and lay down on the stone, using my pack to support my head. Sleep takes me in a matter of seconds.

My eyes stare blankly out the massive window at the dreary scene below me. Emotion has long since left me, leaving only numbness behind. Though if I think hard enough, I can feel a raw, screaming pain of regret and sorrow slowly eating away at my chest. It's been weeks now since I was removed from my own throne. Weeks since I failed to the princess I was raised to be.

I place a single hand against the cool glass, imagining I can feel the droplets of water running down the pane on my own skin. A shaky breath escapes my lips, and I rest my forehead against the window. The gem of my circlet plinks softly as it makes contact with the glass.

Heavy footsteps sound from outside my room—or rather, my prison. My blood runs cold instantly as I recognize those footfalls.

But I will remain strong. Show no fear.

So I let my hand fall to my side, and lift my head as strongly as I can. I set my face in emotionless stone.

I do not flinch when the unlocked door to my prison creaks open. My eyes find the blurry reflection of the intruder on the window, and I swallow against the terror rising in my throat.

"It's a beautiful sight, is it not?" Ganondorf's desert accent sends shards of dread through my stomach, but I do not reply. His reflection in the window grows closer until I feel his presence just behind me. "The world blanketed in dark Twilight. Hyrule deserves nothing better for her sins."

I say nothing.

"I know he came to you, princess," he states suddenly, and my heart stops. "And I know he will return. But I will be ready this time."

My facade nearly breaks. "He is a mere boy. What threat can he possibly pose to you?" It hurts to speak of my hero so, but I must convince Ganondorf to underestimate him.

"Do not think I am fooled so easily." He suddenly snatches my right wrist with a bruising strength. I finally spin to look at him, and nearly shrink from the familiar sight. He towers over me, garbed in Gerudo armor and a wicked snarl. My eyes are drawn to my hand as it begins to glow with the Triforce on its back. Ganondorf's own piece glows in response. "That boy holds the third piece. I have encountered his ancestor once before to know the chosen hero bears Courage."

"And his ancestor combined with the power of my own ancestor defeated you," I spit, tearing my hand out of his grip and stepping back. "Evil will never claim victory." So much for convincing him to doubt Link's abilities. But the rage pounding in my veins is too blinding. My hands twitch as I feel my power rush to them, waiting to be called on. But I rein it back—barely.

Ganondorf only looks amused.

He hums in mock disappointment. "But that's where you err, little princess. The fight has already been won." His hand gestures to the window, to my kingdom blanketed in darkness. I refuse to look, and he chuckles.

As he turns to leave my room, I lose my composure. I summon my rapier without another thought, letting out of strangled cry as I arc the blade toward his head. With surprising speed, he turns and catches my fist with one hand and closes his other hand over my throat. The look of amusement on his face has long since been replaced with churning anger.

"You would do well to watch your temper, 'Bearer of Wisdom'," he spits. My rapier clatters from my grasp and onto the floor beneath me. Ganondorf's hand tightens around my neck, and I choke desperately for air. "You are expendable. Your people have lost hope in their ruler. No one would mourn your death." He releases me and I collapse into an unceremonious heap on the ground, gasping for air.

"Then why do you not just kill me?" I rasp, glaring at the stone beneath me. Each breath burns my throat like fire.

"The suggestion certainly is tempting." I can practically hear the malicious grin in his voice. "However, you will make a fine puppet to destroy your hero first. Then I'll destroy you."

My eyes fly open, and my hand finds my neck. I can still feel the ghost of Ganondorf's fingers on the warm skin there, and I bite back a sob. I slowly blink away the dream as I sit up. My surroundings come into focus and I remember where I am, what I am doing. The fire is burning low now. Link's form is curled up, asleep, on the other side of the embers. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to force the echoes of his voice from my head, and tears well up in my eyes.

Silently, I bring my knees to my chest and bury my face in my arms. It was only a nightmare, I desperately try to convince myself. He's been dead for three years now.

But though Ganondorf is dead, the memories in my head are still very much alive. And they refuse to leave me. A shaky breath fills my lungs as I try to compose myself. Will I ever be normal again? But then again, I wasn't the epitome of normal even before the Invasion. I was barely old enough to be ruling, soon to be coronated queen. The death of my parents was still fresh and painful, and I know the council doubted my ability to stay composed enough to rule. So I built a mask, plastered it on each morning before I left my chambers, and fooled everyone into believing I was collected and stable. And I haven't removed the mask since.

A sudden pressure against my arm makes me flinch, and I look up to see Link sitting at my side. I frantically wipe away at the moisture in my eyes, embarrassed to be seen in such a weak state. Within moments, my face is set back in stone and all emotion erased. Link cocks his head slightly, and looks almost disappointed.

"I'm fine," I whisper. But the statement doesn't convince either of us. Instead, he places his chin on my arm, and I look down at him warmly. I know what he's trying to do. I can practically hear his voice: do you want to tell me about it?

Yes, I want to say. Yes. I am drowning, and I cannot breathe. I want so badly to shout for help, but each time I open my mouth to scream, more water fills my lungs. 

"I had a nightmare." My voice sounds raw as it echoes gently through the chamber. Without thinking, my fingers find my throat and for half a second I imagine there are still bruises there. Link's bright eyes follow my hand, and I quickly drop it again. "From the Invasion," I continue. His eyes suddenly warm in realization, and I see a fleeting look of understanding in their depths.

"They never leave." I say it so softly that Link's ears twitch in concentration. But I know he heard me as he gives me a longing look. For a moment, I wonder what he would say if he weren't a wolf. Would he give me meaningless comforts out of pity? I wouldn't be able to stand it. I want anything but pity. Impaz's words echo through my mind. "Wise queen, you have suffered much." But as I look at Link's patient face, I can't imagine him pitying me. He would offer silent strength and comfort, just as he is doing now. I know your pain; but I'm here.

He was absent for a year after the Invasion, and never told me what he was doing in that time when I saw him again. I assumed he was in Ordon Village, trying to find some peace, some semblance of a normal life. But after all he had seen, how could he ever live like none of it happened—that he didn't change? So a year passed, and he returned to the castle. I offered him a position in my royal guard, to which he responded, "No matter where the Goddesses lead me, I know I am my best at your side." Whether he said those words out of duty or friendship, I cannot say. Foolishly, I prayed for the latter. Either way, the memory warms me.

We are both equally startled when I suddenly reach forward and hug him like he's the last thing tethering me to the realm of sanity. Perhaps he is. After a moment, he eases into the embrace and rests his chin on my shoulder. I can feel his heartbeat pounding against my own.

"Thank you," I tell him for the thousandth time. Though, this time, I'm not entirely sure what I am thanking him for. Everything, I decide. I can never thank him enough.

—

LINK

When I wake the next morning, I am surprised to see that Zelda is still asleep. Normally, she always rises before I do. On my days off in the castle, by the time I finally stumble out of my bedroom she has already gotten more done than I could even accomplish in a day. She is never one for idleness.

My eyes look over her on the other side of the dead fire, her face gentle and relaxed in sleep. Stray pieces of hair lay across her face, and they shift every time she exhales. I resist the urge to brush them aside.

She never did tell me what happened in the Spring, or where she disappeared to. I can only assume whatever occurred was successful considering Nayru gave us her blessing. My face heats as I recall her suddenly bursting from the Spring, the bare skin of her shoulders glistening with water, her dark hair shimmering against her back as she gasped for air—

I shake the memory from my head. I hardly thought about the fact that I was looking at her at first; I was too frantic and relieved to see her reappear. But then she reminded me to look away, and I remembered to be embarrassed. My shame was quickly forgotten again however when I saw how exhausted and drained she looked once she was redressed. Clothes soaked and shivering, she looked miserable.

And then there was the middle of the night. Something stirred me from my sleep. It was the softest sound of shaky breath, something so distressed that I woke in an instant and came to her side, urging her to look to at me. I was shocked to see tears in her blue eyes. The slightest indent marred her smooth forehead as her eyebrows knitted together. It was a strange sight, seeing Zelda so vulnerable and uncomposed. But she quickly and expertly weaved an emotionless face over her sadness as if nothing had happened. The scene stabbed my heart, and without thinking I placed my head on her arms, silently begging her to unload some of her misery. Though she told me little about what was troubling her, the sudden embrace was enough to ensure that I had lightened her load. Even if it was just a miniscule amount.

After Zelda wakes, we start on the long hike back to the Domain. When she first stirred, she sleepily reprimanded me for not waking her sooner. I only chuckled internally. Upon seeing the mirth in my eyes, she tossed a charred piece of wood at me. Seeing her in better spirits this morning is comforting to say the least—especially after last night.

Upon arriving at Zora's Domain, Zelda thanked Ralis repeatedly and offered to confiscate for his generosity and help, to which he only smiled and waved his webbed hand politely to decline. But I know her well enough to understand that she will still make sure to get her way, despite Ralis's refusal. I grin internally at the thought.

After farewells and biddings of good luck, Zelda and I are back on the road, decidedly heading south to find the next Spring in Faron woods.

The thought of being so near home sends conflicted emotions through me. I know that I cannot see my old friends in the state that I am in now, though I am not sure that I want to reunite with them anyways. I spent a few months after the Invasion in Ordon to help the kids resettle, but all my conversations with the village members felt strained and odd. My travels had changed me, and everyone could sense it. After everything had returned to normal in the village, I left to wander on my own, having felt restless.

The soft sound of sighing breaks me from my thoughts, and I look at Zelda on top of her horse. Her eyes are grazing idly over the river's water beside us, a content look in her eyes. It's just after noontime, but already I can see the fair skin of her face beginning to turn pink slightly from the sun. I cringe. She has spent so long in the castle, away from the sun's rays. By the time the day is done, she'll likely be burned.

But the way her eyes shine in the autumn light and how she seems to revel in the warmth of the sun, I can't bring myself to insist she put her hood up.

"My mother used to take me fishing," she says suddenly, eyes still wandering across the clear river. I tilt my head, curious. It's rare that she tells me anything about herself. "We would spend a week at a time in the family cabin near Lake Hylia. I loved it." The focus of her eyes turns inward as she recalls the memories, and there's an odd sadness in them. "When I wasn't fishing, I was climbing trees and ruining my skirts. It made my father furious. Though, my mother would only laugh and insist I needed even the slightest bit childhood adventure possible. The cabin became more of a home to me than the castle ever did." Zelda opens her mouth to say more, but snaps it closed again. There's something hanging in the air, unspoken.

My heart saddens. The majority of my childhood was spent running around the woods and fields of Ordon, not a single care of responsibility weighing me down. I can't imagine growing up with the weight of being the only heir to a massive kingdom, and spending days on end in dusty libraries and learning etiquette and politics. I look up to gauge Zelda's thoughts now that she has gone silent, but her face is set in unreadable stone as always. I only hope she doesn't realize what I am thinking.

The day passes by with little event, save for a few encounters with travelers as we move farther south. Once people become more frequent, Zelda pulls her hood on and only offers nods as a greeting. Many are wary of me following close to her side. Domesticated dogs are a common sight around Hyrule, but wolves are uncommon. I frown inwardly. If only I weren't cursed in this form. But then again, if none of this happened, Zelda and I would still be at the castle going about our daily duties. I would see her only at the few council meetings that I am invited to attend, and rarely see her personally. Our private duels only happened on occasion when her schedule was clear—which is a rarity itself. Maybe the attack was a blessing in disguise considering we are both out of the castle for once, and are allowed to spend some time together. I only wish I was in my Hylian form so I could actually speak to her.

But what does it matter anyways? Once all this is over and we've visited each of the Springs, we'll return to the castle and resume life as always. A part of me hopes that she'll learn to care for me a little more, that she'll try to maintain a friendship even after our adventure is over.

Wishful thinking, probably.

The sun is dipping low in the sky by the time we reach Kakariko Village. The settlement looks immensely different from how it did three years ago, now with more houses and buildings and repairs completed. The town bustles with people, a sight so different from how I first saw it. Zelda slips from off her horse, leading her by the reins through the central street. The canyon walls have been carved back and cleared with help of the Gorons, making way for more buildings and streets. Truly, Kakariko is a whole new village.

As we wind through between people packing up their wares for the day, the attention is drawn after us. Zelda keeps her head low under her hood, and I hug tight next to her and make no eye contact. A few uncomfortable minutes pass before we finally arrive at a familiar clay building, patched over time and time again from its old age.

Zelda ties her horse to a nearby dead tree, and approaches the door to knock. She raps three times on the wood and waits. There is no answer.

"The shaman is on business at the castle presently," a voice says behind us, and we both turn to see a round woman with rosy cheeks. "You must forgive him. He normally only spends a few days there at a time. So if you're willing to wait, he may be back within a day or so."

Renado, the kind shaman of village, makes frequent trips to the castle considering his position of leadership. But now I curse his busyness. Zelda was hoping to spend the night at his home, away from curious townspeople. But it seems that won't be the case.

"I understand. Thank you," Zelda replies, keeping her hood low. The woman gives a curious look, then shifts the basket in her hand and resumes walking away.

"No problem, hun," she waves. "The inn is open for travelers. I suggest you hurry and find a room for you and your...your dog here before they're all filled." And with that she hurries away.

I grumble slightly at being called a dog. Zelda sighs. "It is going to be difficult to keep a low profile at an inn."

The inn lies at the center of the village, a tall, lively building. As we draw nearer, I glance at Zelda's blank face beneath the shadow of her cowl. After handing Zelda's horse off to a stable at the side of the inn, we head toward the front doors. Good luck to us, I grumble silently. She pushes one of the doors open and allows the two of us to step inside.

The area around the counter is relatively empty, but through an open doorway I can see a noisy tavern filled to the brim with people. Zelda and I ignore it as we approach a woman, who is busy trying not to fall asleep against the counter. She releases a massive yawn as Zelda clears her throat to get her attention and blinks up at her with bleary eyes. If she's suspicious of Zelda's covered face, she doesn't show it.

"One room, please," Zelda requests, trying to cover up her accent. It alone could be a giveaway that she is of nobility and has money to spare. She shifts the pack on her shoulder casually.

The woman at the counter nods and sifts through a drawer before finding a key. "Room fifteen. Second floor. Twenty-five rupees, please."

Zelda exchanges rupees for the key, and we quickly set off towards the stairs.

"Oh, ma'am? Animals aren't allowed in the inn. Make too much of a mess."

I tense instantly as Zelda turns back around and walks to the counter again. I see a gleam of red as she slips her hand from her pouch and across the wood of the counter. Her voice is low when she says, "please, allow it just this once. You can keep the twenty rupees for yourself."

The woman looks very much awake as she considers the red rupee. I watch as conflict and interest flit over her face. I hold my breath as she thinks for a long moment. "I hope your dog is well trained to keep quiet, or else the owner will kick you out." She takes the rupee swiftly and slips it into her skirt.

The breath rushes out of my nose in relief, and I can see Zelda relax as well. "You have no idea how thankful I am," she praises, and we head to our room once again. We hurry up the stairs and follow the line of doors until we find one labeled fifteen. Zelda digs in her pouch for the key until a masculine voice halts us.

"Are you alone, little thing?"

We both turn to see a well-dressed man with a square face speckled with stubble. The smell of alcohol hits my nose instantly, and my fur stands on end. Zelda only ignores him and retrieves her key. The man comes closer, eyeing her curiously.

"I asked you a question," he reminds her as he leans against the wall next to us.

Zelda still doesn't look at him as she unlocks the door and answers, "I am aware."

The man chuckles, clearly amused by her defiance. "So what is the answer?"

"That," she breathes, finally looking at him from under her hood, "is none of your business, sir. Now if you'll excuse me."

"It's just you and your pet dog here, then?"

How many times am I going to be called a dog today?

"Need I repeat myself?"

"Ah, snappy one, aren't you?"

She is calm as she turns to him from the door once again. "For your information, sir, I have important things to attend to and must rest as soon as possible to prepare for them."

The drunkard just looks down at her and suddenly flicks off her hood. She reels back and quickly pulls it back over her head. Internally, I curse. Will he recognize Zelda?

"Snappy and pretty," he grins hungrily as his gaze roves over her body. "Certainly you aren't too tired for a visit?"

Anger broils a growl from deep inside my chest, and I step between the insolent man with my teeth bared. He takes a surprised step back and looks as if he just noticed I am here. I inch back protectively until my tail brushes against Zelda's leg.

"Good evening," she snaps as she forces the door open and allows the two of us to whisk inside and shuts the door behind her, locking it swiftly. She sighs and shakes her head.

"Men are pigs."

I can't help but nod in agreement, and she looks at the movement. "Well, most men." A slight smile sparks in her eyes, and I can't help but laugh. The sound comes out like a strange mix between wheezing and panting. Zelda blinks at me once and snorts, a unladylike and unfamiliar sound from her. As if noticing her slip, she quickly grows serious and steps pass me farther into the room, trying to mask her embarrassment.

My teasing mood dissipates at once as I slowly follow after her. You don't have to act to formal around me, I yearn to tell her. I want to hear you laugh, to even see you smile. But I can't. I curse my body for the hundredth time.

The room is small but cozy, with a single bed against the clay wall. Handspun rugs line the floor, each mismatched but somehow homey and welcoming. A lantern burns on a wooden table.

I watch as Zelda sets her pack down on the floor and sits on the bed, her map in hand. She slides off her boots and settles with her back against the wall, all while studying the parchment. Her fingers thrum subconsciously on the bed as she plots where we should head next. Her eyes suddenly look up to find mine, and I look away, embarrassed. But she doesn't seem to pay any mind. Her gaze is thoughtful.

"Do men fall in love?" She inquires suddenly, shyly. I am taken aback by the random question, and only tilt my head.

Zelda's face turns a light pink, and she looks back at her map.

"Forgive the unimportant question," she brushes off hastily, trying to busy her mind once again. But as I walk to sit on the rug in front of her, she gives up and lowers the map to her knees.

"It is simply that I have never seen a man quite in love before," she says, eyebrows furrowed. "My father did not love my mother. I know that much. He wasn't particularly faithful to her, either," she adds with a hint of bitterness. "Stories always tell of men that seek lust rather than heart..."

Zelda stares at the wall above me, embarrassed by the conversation. I wish I could speak to her, tell her that I have yet to know the answer to her question.

But all thoughts leave my mind as I realize a fleeting emotion in her distant eyes—one that I can only place as longing. What is it like to have been raised in such isolation? Does she fear she will never know anything of love?

"You know Faron Woods well, correct?"

I nod, looking back at her now and clearing my thoughts. Her fingers stop thrumming, and she scoots aside, gesturing for me to sit at her side. I clamber beside to her and she places the map in front of us.

We spend the next while poring over the map, and I try to the best of my abilities to convey my knowledge about the Woods. Though I grew up in the area, the woods are still rather mysterious to me. Rusl had always warn us kids to stay on the pathways and avoid straying deep into the trees, and for good reason. There were always stories and rumors of strange animals that stole away wanderers. I myself know some of the Woods' secrets, one being of the Sacred Grove across a massive ravine that holds some of Hyrule's oldest ruins and history. And the Master Sword.

I glance over at Zelda's face as she focuses on the map, pointing out the few landmarks labeled within Faron Woods. Perhaps when all this is over, I can bring her to the Sacred Grove and show her the ancient temples and ruins that sleep within it. Initially, I had thought Zelda would seek out the Grove to find the Master Sword to undo the curse on the both of us, like it did for me during the Twilight Invasion. But I know we both have our doubts about whether it would cure me again, considering the blade has entered its slumber until the next hero is born. Plus, would it cure Zelda if she isn't the bearer of the blade?

After a long while she grows quiet, and I look up from the parchment to find that she has drifted off to sleep. I smile inwardly, and move the map off the bed. Carefully, I nudge her to lay down onto the pillow. She mumbles something incoherently and settles comfortably as I pull one of the throw blankets over her.

I hop from the bed, looking over her restful face once more, before curling up on the rugs and allowing sleep to take me as well.

Chapter Text

ZELDA

It’s evening the next day by the time the massive trees, once distant, loom over us. Winter has already seemed to take over the woods, against all odds. A few bright leaves still cling to the branches of the tall trees, but the branches are ladened with a shimmering cover of snow. The temperature drops significantly as we step into the shade of the Woods, and I find myself wishing for warmer clothing. I dig out the single fur blanket I packed last minute, thanking the goddesses for remembering to do so as I wrap it around my shoulders.

Link leads the way through the snowy trees without a second thought. He clearly knows this place by heart, and I am very grateful for as much. I would hate getting lost in a place like this. There’s an eerie and ancient atmosphere here, and I don’t doubt that getting lost would be a fatal mistake.

We pass an old shack that looks as though it’s one wind gust from falling to the ground. It looks empty, likely vacated once the snow hit. Perhaps the sudden winter caught everyone by surprise?

The woods narrow as we turn down a pathway, then open again to reveal a clearing with a frozen spring. A surge of energy waves over me as I look at the clear ice, and I realize it must be the resting place of one of the sprites of Faron. Link continues past it, and through the woods. We cross over a long bridge supported only by ropes, and I can’t help but question their strength. But they hold strong, and we continue through to the smaller trees on the other side. Link’s eyes glance up at the sky, gauging the low sun. His steps quicken.

After some time, we enter a clearing that holds a lone house built into a massive tree trunk. My eyes wander over the well-crafted door and eaves up on the top of the trunk with a lone ladder leading to it. I look back on the path we’re following, and I see the road turns into a narrow pathway and out of my sight.

But Link doesn’t follow it, and rather leads my horse up to the house and stops. He looks up at me, then at the ladder.

“Is this where we are staying for the night?”

He nods in confirmation. I dismount my horse, and tie her to a post near the ladder. My hands stop as I realize a sign hangs from the wood. Link’s house , it reads. Something strange stirs in my stomach to think I will see the home Link lived in for so long before he came to the castle. It will be like looking into his past, seeing a side of him that I don’t know. Anticipation settles in my chest.

Completing the knot, I look back at Link who waits patiently atop the stump at the door. I blink in confusion at how he got up there, but brush it off as I climb the ladder to join him. He awaits as I turn the wood knob and step inside.

I am surprised to see how open the house is. As far as I can see, the entirety of it is a single, open room. The wood ceiling rises far over my head, with a window at the top of a balcony of sorts. The entire place is charmingly cluttered, with barrels and bookshelves and desks lining the walls. Several worn rugs cover the floor, and an old pot hangs in the cold fireplace. Link moves to roll logs into the fireplace, and as he does so, I wander around the home.

My eyes graze over the numerous books, seeing adventure titles and legends. I’m amused to see even a couple romances scattered on the wood shelves. I never took Link to be a romance-reader. But my attention is grabbed as I see the pictographs on his desk and hanging on the walls. They aren’t pictographs, I realize, but sketches on scraps of paper. Most of them are of goats and landscapes, likely things he saw on a daily basis as a farm hand. But they’re not just average sketches—they’re surprisingly realistic and detailed.

“You never told me you were an artist,” I say as I look over the papers. Perhaps I’m being nosy, but I can’t seem to help myself. I hear Link grunt in reply. My attention turns to him, and he’s staring at the ground in what looks like embarrassment. “These are good—very good, in fact,” I say lamely, trying to alleviate his discomfort. But he just shifts and to look at the wood in the fireplace. I leave my spot by the wall and place my hand above the logs, sparking a fire that warms the cool air in the house.

I keep to myself, no longer looking around Link’s things. He has always been to himself, and likely only brought me here for a place to sleep for the night. I mentally kick myself for being so bold.

As I’m taking dried food from my pack for a meager meal, a sudden knock sounds on the wood door. Link and I both freeze.

This close to Ordon means it could only be one of the villagers, one of the people Link grew up with. But when I look over at him, he shakes his head and glances down at his body as if to say, they can’t see me like this .

For a moment, I consider ignoring the door. But night has nearly completely fallen and the glow of the fire is likely obvious from outside, indicating someone is indoors. As I slowly straighten from my crouch to approach the door, an impatient voice sounds from the other side.

“Link, is that you? Why, for all that is good in this world, did you not tell me you were visiting, you wretched man?” The woman’s sharp attitude makes me glance at Link, only to see him look even more distraught hearing her voice.

I mouth, “I’ll take care of it”. He only heaves an exaggerated sigh and moves from the linesight of the door.

But what in Hylia’s name do I say to explain why a woman—the queen of Hyrule—is in Link’s home?

Regardless, I steel myself and open the door just as the knob rattles to indicate she was about to allow herself in.

Upon opening it, the woman opens her mouth undoubtedly to let out another stream of scolding. But her lips quickly snap shut as she sees me, and her green eyes grow wide. My gaze flits over her once, and I assume this is Ilia. Link had mentioned her before, saying the two of them were expected to marry once she took her place as mayor of Ordon. But that was nearly two years ago when he told me. Was the plan still set in place?

It’s not my place to prod , I remind myself.

“You must be Ilia,” I offer, and she blinks a time or two in suspicious surprise. But she still seems to be rendered speechless. A slight fire begins flickering in her gaze the longer she stares at my impassive face. I quickly search to quell that fire before she begins aiming her scolding at me.

“Commander Link is not here, I’m afraid,” I lie easily. Perhaps a bit too easily. When had I learned to do that? “I am traveling on private business, and he insisted I lodge in his vacant home if needs be while he remains in the castle to tend to his duties.”

Understanding soothes her expression, though a twinge of suspicion remains. I continue in her silence.

“Initially, I had planned to pass through without stopping for the night. But the early winter prohibited as much.”

“Right,” Ilia finally says, bobbing her head of blonde locks. “The weather has been a pain for everyone in Ordon.”

Her accent is so similar to Links, clipped pronunciation but with a genuinely polite tone, that I nearly glance behind me to look for him. But I refrain.

“I can surely imagine as much.”

“How long will you be, well...staying in Link’s house?”

“Only tonight—goddesses be willing.”

At that, I note how her eyes glance fleetingly to my long ears. She herself is clearly human, with round ears and features. From what I understand of the humans living south beyond Hyrule, they did not worship the Golden Goddesses as Hylians dp, and the phrase likely is unusual to her. Ilia is clearly unused to being face-to-face Hylians other than Link.

With her previous contempt now completely absent, she takes closer note of my features, and of my fine clothing. A uncomfortable moment drags on until she suddenly brings her hands to her lips, eyes wide again.

“You’re—are you—oh, goodness, you’re Queen Zelda, aren’t you?” She scrambles into a dainty curtsy. I watch, masking my amusement. Technically speaking, the Ordona Province is not an official part of Hyrule, so she needn’t show such propriety. My silence confirms her question, and she flusters further.

“I beg your pardon for pounding on the door like that and intruding,” Ilia says almost frantically, and I put my hand up to calm her.

“No harm was done,” I reassure her, and she breathes a sigh of relief. “But I must insist you keep the knowledge of my presence here to yourself.”

She nods heartily. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Inwardly, I shake my head, amused, at the use of the wrong title. But it would be petty to correct her, and I don’t want to fluster her more.

“Now, if you will excuse me.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Pardon me.” She quickly turns to leave as I begin closing the door. The thought of a warm fire seems very appealing after facing the chill of winter again.

“Rest well, Your Highness.”

From somewhere within the house, I can hear the muffled sound of Link’s wheezing chuckle and I fight to not smile as well.

“And you, Ilia.”

-o0o-

I’ve always loathed feeling useless.

The sentiment holds true as I grip Epona’s reins like a lifeline, staring helplessly through the barrier to where a deadly duel is raging. My other hand holds fast to the bow of light, itching to aim at Ganondorf’s head. But the barrier is too high, and the two men are dancing around each other too quickly to aim true.

My teeth clench painfully as I watch Link narrowly dodge the tip of Ganondorf’s bright blade, and I resist the urge to call out. But I will not, cannot, distract him when he needs so desperately to concentrate.

The two men are practically snarling at each other, and in this moment, all I can do was pray.

Please, I beg. Please allow him victory. Send him strength. He cannot fall.

My prayer is cut short when Ganondorf kicks Link forcefully in the ribs, sending him sprawling onto his back. Without a moment’s hesitation, the King of Evil arcs his blade over his head, aiming it at the hero’s chest.

I lose my restraint, shouting around the lump that had formed in my throat.

“LINK!”

My hand flies over my mouth out of habit as I sit up violently and out of the dream. Or was it a memory? My brain is too active and out of control when I sleep that I can never tell memory apart from fabrication anymore. It unnerves me to all ends.

I will not break composure this time. Not while—

Link.

He’s sitting just next to the bed, next to his bed that he insisted I use. In the dim light, I can see his frantic concern as I bite down against any tears that dare to show themselves. Several moments pass. Or maybe years—I can’t be sure.

I have to chant a reminder in my head as I look at Link, telling myself that it was just a nightmare and that Link is fine. My heart is pounding wildly, and I can practically smell smoke in the air from my burning castle, feel Epona’s heavy breathing beneath me, and the sorrow of Midna’s loss.

Link is alive and safe—Ganondorf is dead. But even then...Link had sustained near-fatal injuries from the final battle, and had hardly managed to stay upright long enough to reunite with Midna. He was bleeding and battered, and I couldn’t help but blame myself. He hadn’t even been raised in Hyrule, yet he nearly gave his life for her and her incompetent ruler.

The guilt resurfaces again, but I press it to the back of my mind and focus on steadying my heartbeats.

Finally I have calmed enough to form words somewhat.

“I am sorry for waking you,” I whisper, not trusting myself to speak any louder. Link wastes no time in shaking his head and edging closer to the bed until his chest is pressed against it. “It was just a scare. Nothing more.”

But he just looks at me through narrowed eyes, reading my face closely. It takes all my willpower to not break under his gaze, from the genuine concern and care filling his eyes. When was the last time anyone cared for my well being? A care that did not stem for generic concern for their sovereign?

Link has never been anything but genuine. He never wastes time in strained small-talk on the rare occasion I am alone with him. Rather, he delves straight into helping me better my combat skills, or sneaking me into the kitchens to steal food despite the fact he could simply ask and the cook would willingly comply. Even when he isn’t in action, his conversations are sincere. His few responses are carefully thought through before he offers them.

I always find myself much more at ease in his presence, knowing all his expressions and words are nothing but honest and sincere. He never wastes breath on frivolous, pointless words.

Why would being wolf be any different? He’s here, giving me honest curiosity about my well being. I open my mouth to tell him about my dream, about how painfully fresh the memory was, and how I can practically smell the smoke and blood of a battlefield, even now.

But he is my commander of my royal army. He is my sole guard on this adventure. It is his duty to make sure I am well. My mouth closes. I am simply his charge. And a burden, if anything—how much stress have I tossed upon his shoulders for being the sole person between me and possible injury or death?

“You can go back to sleep; all is well. I promise.” The causality in my tone sounds forced. He hesitates, giving me an incredulous look. But then he heeds my words and turns away. I roll over to face the other way, listening to his paws thumping lightly on the floor as he hops from the landing.

I sigh, trying to ignore the faint scent that is distinctly Link that still lingers after all this time on his pillow. A storm of guilt and regret swirl in my chest, and I can’t quite place from what. Am I wrong to push him away?

If I were more bold—or perhaps courageous, I would have voiced what I was thinking as he turned away.

Wait. Will you stay by my side? Maybe the demons will relent if you are near…

-o0o-

It seems we used our luck on finding the first Spring, and have no more to spare.

The next several days find us wandering Faron Woods without any clues to where the Spring of Courage might lay. No stone slabs engraved with the Triforce; no caverns with stone doors. The snow makes the days short of light and bitingly cold, and I find myself missing the warmth of northern Hyrule.

On the first morning, Ilia had surprised me by showing up with a bundle of supplies.

“If you’ll be around in this dratted cold,” she said, unfolding a dark cloak, “you’re going to need something to keep you warm.”

With that, she handed off the long cloaked lined with goat fur and a fresh basket of pumpkin rolls. “Made just this morning by Uli,” she had said. I was strangely touched by her warm and willing kindness, and promised to return the cloak as soon as I no longer had need for it. She simply shook her head with a smile and returned to the village without another word.

“I see why you want to marry her,” I had told Link once we were in the Woods. His attention snapped to me, a confused and almost guilty look in his eyes. Instantly, I wanted to take back my words, afraid I had said something wrong.

The rest of the day was spent in uneasy silence. The strange tension disappointed me. I felt that we had finally become something akin to close friends after the Spring of Wisdom. But after that night went I sent him away, his expressions are more closed off and he keeps two paces of distance between us wherever we walk.

It’s been four days since we arrived in Faron Woods when I notice his breathing is labored and raspy. I look over my shoulder. My concern is quickly heightened into panic when I see him hunched in the snow, fighting to stay upright. I rush to his side at once, throwing my hood back to see him better.

“Link? What is it?” I say frantically, hand hovering just over him, but not touching. He quivers, shaking his head while clenching his jaw. I reach for his neck now, feeling his pulse to find his heart sending slow, faint beats. I check his eyes, finding that they are slightly dilated. The symptoms are unfamiliar—but even then, with him being in the form of a beast, how can I possibly assess what is ailing him?  

Link takes a deep breath, body shuttering as he does so. His eyes clench shut, and after a moment, his labored breaths even out and become calm once again. Slowly, his posture relaxes, and his eyes open again.

His eyes meet mine as I watch in open concern. “Your health is failing,” I say slowly. “But why?” He only looks down at the snow in response.

Panic and desperation begins to rise in my throat like bile. We’ve spent days wandering this cursed forest, and yet there have been no signs of the Spring. Each night when we return to Link’s house, I map the different directions we have traveled in hopes of narrowing down where we have yet to go. But Faron is massive and like a merciless labyrinth.

But now we don’t have time to search the trees for every single little sign that might be there. How much longer can Link last?

A screech above us in the massive trees snatches our attention. We both peer up to see a familiar sight that send a pang of hope through my limbs, replacing the panic. The golden owl glides lazily overhead, watching us with blood-red eyes.

We will meet again, young queen, when you need me next, the skeletal spirit had told me.

And need her, I do. With Link’s health now in question, we must find the next Spring as soon as possible.

I sit back on my heels in the snow, watching the owl’s languid movements. The woods are eerily silent. Upon meeting her eyes, I offer a slight nod. She turns in the air, diving swiftly towards me. I close my eyes in anticipation.

Blinding white slowly fades into the same foggy plain from before, and I blink to adjust to the bright expanse. Though this time, I notice a painfully familiar sight looming in the distance that I hadn’t seen last time, rising proudly from the fog.

My castle , I reminisce, eyes following the pristine stones and the towers reaching like fingers into the bare sky. Strangely, the sight only brings me dread. I cannot quite seem to bring myself to miss the castle, not while I’ve spent the past many days in the midst of my kingdom and away from its walls. The open air and starry skies are already more like home to me than the castle could ever be.

“You do not miss it,” a wispy voice says behind me, echoing my thoughts. Still gazing at the castle, I shake my head.

“It has served to be more of prison than a home to me as time has passed,” I say softly. The ghost behind me says nothing.

Finally, I turn to see the skeletal woman, standing still as a statue and watching me with her unnerving, glowing eyes. They seem to pierce straight through me, and I suppress a shudder.

“There is a new urgency within your resolve now,” she notices, stepping closer. “Though it is still stemmed from your concern for the hero.”

I look down in thought, collecting my words. The fact that she can read my mind is something that I could never get used to, and I feel faintly unnerved.

“My theory is that being in wolf form for a prolonged amount of time is wreaking consequences on his physical well being. Being a beast is meant only to be a temporary shift for his body; one made to be able to withstand Twili—and shadow—magic whilst remaining in a physical form.” Now that I’ve put my thoughts to words, ideas and understanding clicks into place. “He may be a shifted wolf now, but his bones and organs are still Hylian. They cannot support his body for long.”

My stomach drops as understanding dawns, and a I feel desperation begin to rise in my throat once again. What if we don’t make it to the Springs quickly enough? Tears threaten my eyes.

What if he dies before the four weeks are up?

“Do not despair, child,” the woman coaxes me away from my impending panic. “You are capable of great things.”

My eyes return to her as she shifts under her cloak, revealing the ancient harp. Following her example, I hastenly retrieve my own to follow along.

“This minuet will step you closer to what you seek.” Her skeletal hands move deftly to pluck the fragile strings, and I follow closely as I commit the notes to memory. She looks up expectantly upon finishing, and I repeat the minuet back to her until she nods approvingly.

Her dark hood shifts as she nods, revealing a golden circlet settled against the crown of her skull. My heart skips a beat as I recognize the crown immediately.

“I think I understand who you are now,” I say slowly. Her lack of flesh and skin makes it impossible to read her reaction, and she remains silent.

But it all makes sense.

“You are the queen that sealed Ganondorf.”

Her powerful aura of magic, the royal family’s crest on her dress, the style of her crown, the hood and skirt with the Sheikah symbol—there are only a few women in my lineage that were closely associated with the Sheikah tribe, most notably the queen that aided condemned Ganondorf for his crimes and sealed him to prevent his access to Hyrule. Her attire and crown suggest that era for their style and cut.

I am speaking to one of my own ancestors.

She is quiet for a long moment, and I am afraid I’ve angered her.

“The women of our blood are perceptive and sharp. That characteristic clearly has not skipped you,” the ghost says softly. “But to say that I ‘sealed Ganondorf’ is only a measly portion of what truly happened in my day—though your history books claim otherwise.”

I tilt my head slightly, trying to decipher her words. Were the historians biased when writing about her life? Had they failed to include information?

She lets out a sound that sounds reminiscent of a sad chuckle. “There is much you do not know,” she says simply.

“History tells of a dark man from the Gerudo desert that deceived the king of Hyrule. He forced his way into the Sacred Realm to steal the Triforce, thus splitting it into three pieces. But you,” I incline my head in her direction, “sealed him away where he had no access to Hyrule until the Sages arrived to execute him.” But that execution resulted rather unsuccessful , I think grimly.

“There was a chosen hero in my day,” she states. She never seems to truly answer my questions or confirm my words. Her responses are always roundabout. It reminds me all too much of the politicians I deal with on a daily basis.

But regardless...a hero? I know that there have been many chosen heros in the past, but it says no where that there was one after the Hyrulean civil war when she ruled up until Link now.

“Ganondorf was successful in claiming Hyrule with the Triforce of Power in his grasp,” the ancient queen continues. “His reign was seven years long, and the kingdom fell into dark era. All the while, the chosen hero of my age slept, held in the Chamber of Sages until he was old enough to wield the Blade of Evil’s Bane. Once such had been achieved, he weakened Ganondorf until we seven Sages were able to seal him away.”

All I can do is blink as I process this new information. None of it sounds familiar. How had historians failed to record such vital information?

“Though all was safe again,” she resumes, her voice laced with something similar to regret, “Hyrule was broken beyond from the seven years of darkness. We called it the Imprisoning War. It was a war that killed masses, destroyed infrastructure and...removed me from my place as princess. And it stripped the Hero of Time of the essential joys of childhood.”

She lift her chin slightly. “So I made a decision to reverse time. I used a magic relic to undo the Imprisoning War, and now history does not know it ever happened.” The ghost turns away slightly. “Nor does it acknowledge its hero,” she adds so softly I nearly miss it. But the regret in her voice is clear as water.

All is quiet as I absorb this new revelation. What do I even do with all this information?

Her eyes suddenly snap back to mine. “Your time ticks forward, and you must go. Play the minuet to awaken the ancient guardian. Your courage will be tested.”

Ancient guardian? I have so much to ask her still, so many questions in need of answers—

“We will meet again, my child,” she assures. She lifts her arms in an arc, and I watch in silence as my vision fades to white.

Chapter Text

ZELDA

The bitter cold reaches me first, and I shiver instantly. My eyes open, blinking away the crystal snowflakes collected on my eyelashes. But then I feel warmth under my left hand, and look down to Link curled up against me, watching with patient eyes. He lifts his head upon seeing me awaken.

"There was a hero." My voice is quiet like I've been asleep for hours. Link listens quietly, and I remember with a pang of the new urgency of our quest. I pull myself into a sitting position, staring blankly at the blanketed world around us. It had snowed even more while I slept. Now the woods are silent, every sound muted under the white covering. Though it is a cold, harsh weather to be traveling in, it is a dangerously beautiful.

"After the Hyrulean Civil war," I continue. "He saved Hyrule from Ganondorf with the aid of the princess of the time."

Link's ears twitch slightly in the corner of my eyes. He's likely just as confused and surprised to hear the information as I am. He did not have the extensive education I did growing up and thus isn't as versed on Hyrule's history, but I know that he has read and learned enough in his time in the castle to know that there is no record of a hero within the past several thousand years.

My eyes meet his. "My ancestor undid the damage Ganondorf inflicted...but that meant no one remembered the hero's deeds. He sacrificed everything for the kingdom, and died as a nobody."

All is quiet for a long moment, and I gradually become aware of the chill of snow seeping through my clothes. I stand to my feet, gazing around for any sign of a pedestal. How can we ever find one in this snow?

But perhaps that isn't what we are supposed to look for this time.

"'Play the minuet to awaken the ancient guardian'," I repeat softly to no one. Link stands as well, looking about the trees. He lifts his nose in the air, sniffing the chilled air softly. I watch quietly as his ears suddenly perk, and he glances back at me. At once, he beckons me to follow him and starts as a quick pace deeper into the Woods.

I do not question him, nor ask what he has sensed. I simply follow after him, struggling to keep up with his fast steps. We wind through the trees, farther than we have wandered the past several days. As we walk, I make note of significant marks and trees in hopes of being able to find our way back. Though I am certain Link's sense of direction and senses could lead us back regardless.

The deeper snow makes it difficult to move, and I find myself sinking into the fresh fall and wishing for more practical boots for the conditions. The snow is seeping through the leather of my riding boots, making my toes go numb. I can only hope the Spring's water comes from beneath the earth where the water is heated.

Link suddenly bursts into a sprint, leaving me behind in the snow to follow his tracks. His gray form disappears into the trees, and I shout after him.

"Link! Wait! I cannot move that quickly—this cursed snow—"

Afraid to get lost in this puzzle of trees, I quicken my steps as much as I can and follow Link's paw prints. I stop to yank my cloak from the grips of a dead bush, and nearly crash into Link as I stumble free. Upon regaining my balance, I look to where Link is staring and nearly gasp.

A massive stone statue towering several heads taller than me stands in front of us. Its broad shoulders are covered in a layer of snow, and its oddly shaped head that reminds me of an aquatic creature peers blankly out from the covering. In its grasp is a long staff with two heads of a hammer on the top.

Link looks back at me expectantly. This must be the ancient guardian.

I look between the statue and Link as I retrieve my harp. Uncertainly, I play the minuet that my ancestor taught me. The sounds of the instrument seem out of place in the silent Woods, and they seem to be absorbed into the snow. I allow the final notes to hang in the air, then look up at the statue.

Almost instantly, a reddish light glows to life in the markings on its body. The statue shudders, a soft humming emanating from within the stone. The light reaches its eye sockets until they glow to life. I stumble back in surprise as it lifts its staff in the air, then slams the end of it against the ground.

"I am the guardian of Her Grace's Spring," an ancient voice resonates from the statue. "You must complete my trial. Only then can you enter the Spring of Courage."

It pounds the staff once again, slicing cleanly through the snow. I shiver as the air seems to change, and a undertone of something hangs around us. It reminds me of static before a thunderstorm, of something on the brink of erupting.

Then a howl slices through the tension in the air, and I whip around to look at Link. He is hunched in a defensive position, eyes darting around the trees as he growls.

The howl wasn't his.

I retrieve my bow from around my torso and string an arrow as more howls join the first. They slowly grow closer.

A snarl unlike Link's sounds from behind me, and I spin around with my bow's string pulled taught. I am met with the sight of a ghostly white wolf with piercing eyes and razor-like teeth.

A white wolfos. They're common in high altitudes like Snow Peak, but this far south?

I let my arrow fly as the wolfos lunges towards me, and it lands deep in its chest. It lets out a pained yelp and crumples to the ground. I avoid looking at the red blood blossoming in the snow beneath it.

More yelps catch my attention, and I look to see Link tangled with another wolfos. He bites hard into its throat, and the beast howls before going still. Another wolfos leaps toward him from the trees, and I shoot it from the air.

Link quickly lunges at two others that seem to appear from the snow like rising fog, engaging them in a flurry of growls and snapping jaws.

I choke on a gasp as a body slams into mine, and I lose purchase in the snow and slam on my back. My vision is instantly filled with white fur and gnashing teeth, and I gag against the overwhelming hot breath in my face. Quickly, I wedge my bow into the wolfos' jaw, struggling to hold it away from my face. A cry bursts from my lips as I feel its claws slice through the fabric of my sleeve and down to my flesh. A wet warmth trickles down my arm.

Feeling my strength wavering under the weight of the beast, I slip the hand of my good arm down to retrieve my dagger from my side and plunge it between the wolfos' ribs. I roll its body off of mine and stumble back to my feet to see Link finishing off the second beast. As I look around for signs of more, I wipe off the blood on my hand on the snow, trying not to think too closely about it.

All is eerily quiet as the last wolfos is finished off, and I pry my blade free and stand ready. Was that all? I certainly hope so, I pray silently. Link's breaths are unusually heavy, and I look over him once to ensure he is uninjured. I sigh in relief to see that any blood on his fur is not his. His eyes meet mine, then drop to my arm. He lets out a whimper of concern and begins to rush over to me, but the statue's voice interrupts his pursuit.

"You have done well."

It shifts from its standing position with creaking stone. The layer of snow on its shoulders flutters off as it holds its staff parallel to the ground and out from its body. It bows slightly.

"To complete the trial, you must best me in battle." It moves its staff closer to its body now, and its limbs coil, ready to spring into action. I yelp and roll to the side as it swings its weapon where my head was.

Link at once lowers and growls, then lunges at the statue with his teeth bared. The guardian is unnaturally quick for being made of stone, and catches Link with his staff and flings him away.

"Link!" I shout as he tumbles through the snow. The statue turns to me, raising its arm. I hop out of the way, nearly falling again as my feet sink into the covering beneath me.

I hate snow, I decide.

Regardless, I cock another arrow and raise my bow to aim at the statue's head. My injured arm protests from the movement, but I ignore it stubbornly. The arrow flies and plinks against the stone with a noisy clatter, then falls to the ground. The guardian remains completely unaffected, much to my disappointment and terror.

I check my quiver, and count five more arrows. I'll have to make them count.

Link regains his footing, shaking snow from his fur, but looks otherwise unharmed. We both circle around the statue, remaining defensive and dodging the occasional thrusts and swings of its staff.

How can we possibly disarm a being made purely of stone?

But that's when I notice the positioning of its arms and staff. After each attack, it quickly brings its staff to cover the circular marking on its abdomen. As soon as my eyes spot the marking, the statue notices and swings at me. I barely hop back in time, and feel the gust of air throw stray pieces of my hair back.

Link rushes to stand in front of me, staying defensive. I catch his eye, and make a pointed look at the statue's stomach. Link registers the movements, turning to look back at the guardian. Realization settles on his features, and he sets into action immediately.

He runs around the statue, barking harshly and darting in and out of the range of its staff. I pull the string of my bow taught, waiting for an opening of the marking on the guardian's stomach.

It seems to understand our plot at once, and struggles to keep its weak spot covered while fending Link off. I circle around it, keeping my breaths even and arms steady as Link tries to distract it. The statue catches sight of me and moves to swing at me, but Link lunges at his stomach and it quickly turns back to jab him away.

I seize the opening at once, letting my arrow loose. The fletching brushes against my cheek as it flies from my bow, whizzing in the air until it lands deep in the glowing marking on the guardian's stomach. The exhilaration of victory buzzes in my blood at once.

Everything goes still as we watch the light in the statue's markings fade from red to an calm blue. It relaxes back into a standing pose at once, settling its staff back on the ground.

"The trial is complete. Follow me."

With that, it turns and walks through the snow with heavy footsteps that deceive of the agility it displayed only moments before. Link and I glance at each other, and then step to follow it.

The guardian of the Spring leads us deeper into the Woods until we reach a massive cliff side rising up toward the tree canopy. It walks up to a section of the cliff wall covered with dead vines and places its massive hand against them. A hum rings through the still air, and blue lights similar to the ones on the statue glow from beneath the dead plants. A rush of stale air meets my nose as a section of the stone beneath the vines disappears. The statue turns to us, its duty fulfilled.

"Go forth, and meet Her Grace." It steps to the side, settling into the same position we found it in, and slowly goes dark. I watch it for a moment, practically expecting it to move again. But it remains cold and still. I pull my arrow from its stomach and place it back into my quiver.

I turn to the opening and push the vines out of the way, allowing Link and I to step through. We follow through the short stone corridor, then enter the entrance of the Spring. Sconces on stone pillars flare to life as we walk past them, bringing a slight warmth to the chilled air. We climb up a short staircase and are met with the Spring.

Unlike the previous one, this Spring has an open ceiling that reveals the gray sky. Massive walls create a bowl-like surrounding and above them are massive trees of the Woods. The water is as still as glass, and I feel a familiar power emanating from it.

I settle my packs on the stone ground. Link looks at me once, nods, then sits with his back to me and the Spring. I inhale a steadying breath, then begin tugging my clothes off. I hiss in pain as the fabric pulls on the lacerations on my arm, and feel fresh blood tickle down my skin. I look down at the wound, cursing internally at the sight. It's not deep enough to need stitches, but it will definitely need attention once I am done. I finish undressing and unbraid my hair, then move to step into the waters. The cold winter air against my bare skin makes me shudder, and I hug my arms to myself in an attempt of staying warm.

My foot glances against the layer of ice on the surface, and I resist the urge to huff a sigh of frustration. So much for the water being naturally heated. I break through the ice with my heel, biting back a cry as the freezing water sends needles of pain through my legs and sucks the breath from my lungs. I press on, wading in to my waist even as tears spring to my eyes and my legs instantly go numb.

I make my way to the center of the Spring through the layer of ice, and I am already shivering violently against the chill. My eyes find the goddess statue's, dull and worn with weather.

"Holy Goddess Farore," I manage to whisper through my teeth. My voice is quavering. "I come seeking help."

I feel a surge of energy at once, and all air leaves my chest as I am yanked into the icy water.

-o0o-

I am acutely aware of my slow heartbeat as I fall through the water, and count the seconds until am suddenly standing in the Sacred Realm once again. I breath the warm air around me at once, grateful for the change in temperature.

My eyes open to see a woman garbed in ivory robes similar to Nayru's.

Farore.

She is shorter than Nayru, though still taller than me. Her loose hair is a shimmering green color that reminds me of the grasses of Hyrule Field in the summer. The strands shift and lift as if there is a breeze, though the air feels still. A similar golden circlet lays on the crown on her head, though this one's pendant displays her symbol of a three circles settled together to create a single one.

Her eyes are kind and cheerfully emerald, and she wears an easy smile on her face.

"You have done well, Bearer of Wisdom."

"Your Grace," I reply and bow at my waist.

She makes a scoffing sound and waves away my formality. "I have never cared for such displays, young one. Do not waste your energy."

I straighten at once, heeding her words. She offers me a grin.

"What brings you here, wise one? Perhaps you simply wished to pay your old Goddess a visit?" Farore asks with an amused twinkle in her eyes. "Though you descendants of Hylia are normally much more demanding than that."

I blink in embarrassment, and open my mouth to defend myself.

"I only jest," she smiles kindly, cutting off any words I was about to say. "It is an honor to aid your blood."

"It is not only I that seeks your blessing," I say slowly, and she lifts an eyebrow in interest. I relay the situation of the curse upon Link and I, and that we have already visited Nayru. She hums in reply and taps her lips with her finger.

"I see. I suppose I ought to aid the man who bears my portion of the Triforce, especially considering he was successful in his fate. Not to mention you both passed my trial to arrive at my Spring."

Her words make me stop. She phrased it almost as if there was a chance Link would not succeed...does that mean there have been other heros in history that failed to fulfill their destiny?

"Well, wise one, I will offer you my blessing on one condition."

I incline my head respectfully. "Anything, Your Grace."

Farore gives me playful grin and shifts her weight to one hip as she presses her fingertips to my forehead.

"Take good care of your hero, all right?"

She offers a wink as my vision begins to fade away.

—-

LINK

My thoughts snap into focus as I hear Zelda burst from the water behind me, coughing and gasping. She wastes no time in wading back to the shore, and I listen as she steps onto the stone. My ears twitch as she mumbles something too quiet for me to hear, and I wait as she pulls her clothing back on.

While she was gone to wherever the Goddesses had taken her, I gathered the driest wood I could find to prepare for a fire. The water is undoubtedly freezing cold, and I know she will need heat as soon as possible.

"Farore awaits," Zelda whispers through clenched teeth, and I turn to see her shivering violently. Her clothes are already soaked through with the water that was on her skin, and the droplets on her face look as though they're already crystalizing from the cold air. Her lips are dangerously pale as she settles down on the ground.

She stares at me when I don't enter the water. "L-Link…you need...y-you..." Anything she was about to say is cut off with another violent shudder, and she fumbles to pin her cloak around her shoulders.

I shake my head and arrive at her side, checking her eyes. They're strangely blank. Urgency sets in at once, and I whimper desperately and nudge her clothing. Zelda just blinks at me, clueless and dazed. I take the hem of her trousers in my teeth and tug, trying to make her understand. If she stays in these wet clothes, her core temperature will drop dangerously.

Her eyes follow down to the hem of her pants, and she slowly seems to understand. Normally she is so perceptive and quick—and it worries me that her motor skills and mind seem to be slowing.

As she pries away her wet clothing, I dig through her pack to find the woolen blanket she had brought, as well as more dry clothing. I curse mentally that we didn't bring her horse with extra supplies. The Woods are too dense to bring her, and her weight could have collapsed air pockets beneath the snow and broken her legs. But now, I wish we had risked it if it meant extra clothing.

All I find in the pack are my own clothes and along with the fur blanket. I push the blanket towards her, careful to avert my eyes and give her privacy. I look away as she throws it around her shoulders, trying to find her own clothes. I had brought along some of my own shirts and trousers for the journey back from the final Spring once I am finally been returned to my Hylian form. She may need them if the hypothermia continues to worsen.

I nearly flinch as I feel a hand at my back, and turn carefully to see Zelda wrapped in the fur blanket, clutching it closed as her throat. Only the slightest hue of color has returned to her face, but it is an improvement nonetheless. Relief floods me at once.

The snowy weather is not only inconvenient, but threatening as well. Rusl told me once about his father who once braved the forest during a particularly cold winter in search of game to feed his family. But the weather was ruthless, and he hadn't prepared well. He spent nearly two days missing before the village men found him, half-frozen and nearly dead in the snow. Though he was returned to the village before the cold claimed his life, the frostbite rendered his hands useless.

But upon looking, Zelda's fingers are slightly pink, and show no sign of frostbite. I breathe in relief, ignoring the heat in my chest as the fur of the blanket brushes against the skin of her bare arm.

"Thank you," she says softly. She retracts her hand back beneath the folds of the blanket and moves to start the fire. Her fingers still quiver. Quietly, I lay out her soaked clothes on the stone next to the flames, hoping they'll dry quickly.

Now that her temperature is stable and the fire is roaring to life, I approach the water. As I swim through the biting chill, I realize that for the first time since being cursed, I am grateful to be in wolf form. If not, the water would freeze me to the core just as it did to Zelda.

I stop and float just in front of the goddess statue, waiting until a flash of green light sparks and absorbs into my skin. A familiar surge of power buzzes through my veins, burning away the feeling of cold from my toes.

But this time the light doesn't disappear. It grows brighter until it is practically blinding me, and my head is spinning from the overwhelming magic.

Is this supposed be part of Farore's blessing? I consider in a moment of panic. But soon thoughts fade from my mind, and my consciousness leaves.

-o0o-

Zelda sighs and leans her elbows against the stone railing on top of one of the castle walls. The movement is the slightest crack in her usual straight-back composure, and it makes me strangely glad knowing that she is more relaxed around me. Her eyes reflect the blazing sky as the sun settles into the horizon, and a noticeable sorrow hangs in the air. A sorrow that only we feel as dusk.

I search her face quietly as I also lean against the railing. There's something more than the usual reminiscence, something that I've noticed has been churning under her mask for quite some time now. I rarely get to see her close in person, but the look is unmistakable. I remain quiet, knowing she'll tell me when she's ready.

She does.

"Do you ever wonder if destiny chose you wrong?" Her voice is quiet, no louder than a leaf rustling in the wind.

"Yes," I admit. "But seeing where it has led me so far, I realize that perhaps it chose correctly."

Zelda shakes her head slightly. "But what if your duty is not yet fulfilled? What if there is more to come that you cannot control no matter what you may want?"

-o0o-

"...Link? Goddesses, please wake up..."

My limbs ache and feel as though they're filled with sand. My mind struggles to resurface, but I fight against the wave of tiredness that nearly pulls me back under. My eyes slide groggily open, and I see Zelda leaning over me with open concern on her face. It quickly melts into relief as she watches me wake.

"I was terrified," she breathes, and vaguely I note that she is now dressed in her dry clothing. I slowly become aware that I feel...different. My senses are muffled and less sharp, and the cold air seems to chill me more than before. I take a deep breath as I begin to understand.

"How do you feel?" Zelda asks cautiously, and I suddenly register her hand cradled gently against my face. I can feel that it is now warm—a stark difference to after she had climbed out of the Spring. But even more strangely, I can feel the skin of her palm against my skin.

I lift my arm and see skin, not fur.

I'm Hylian. I have arms and toes and hands and—

"Fingers," I mumble aloud gleefully as I flex my hand experimentally. No more useless paws.

Zelda laughs at my daze proclamation.

My heart stops.

Instantly, my eyes return to her, and I watch in awe to see her smiling—actually smiling—and it lights up her entire face. She self-consciously lifts her hand and presses the back of it to her lips as she tries to stifle the smile unsuccessfully. Her blue eyes twinkle.

She's beautiful, I realize as I smile along with her. My heart seems to heat inside my chest.

"Yes," she says after some time, face still glowing, "I can imagine you would grow to appreciate your digits after living without them."

In that moment, I finally put a name to the relentless heat in my chest with a note of terror, of the inexplicable draw I feel toward her.

I've fallen wholly, irreversibly, and hopelessly in love with the queen of Hyrule.

Chapter Text

Link

We're eating dried meat next to the fire as night falls, sitting close but just far enough to where we aren't touching. After being in the form of a beast for so long, it takes me some time to get used to my body again. My fingers don't quite seem to cooperate, and I keep dropping things. During the Twilight Invasion, I had spent a decent amount of time in wolf form, but only in short periods. Zelda explained to me that she thought my body was failing because it was unused to the form, and it makes me even more grateful for the unexpected transformation back into my Hylian body.

Even still...something feels off. The wound from the Shadow dart in my side healed strangely quickly, but even now it still throbs with pain as though it's fresh. Something tells me that remnants of shadow magic have remained in my body. So what keeps it from transforming me again?

Upon asking Zelda, she was equally as uncertain as me.

"I think we should still visit the final Spring in the Gerudo Desert," Zelda tells me now, studying the flames of the fire. "We cannot be certain how long you will remain in Hylian form if there is still Shadow magic in your bloodstream."

I nod along to her words, trying not to lose my thoughts on the way the fire makes her irises glow. "I'm a lot more useful when I'm not a wolf. I hope for both our sakes that I remain Hylian as long as possible."

"You are plenty helpful when you are a wolf as well," she argues, looking at me now. I just hum noncommittally.

"In fact," she says softly, "I believe it is safe to say that you saved my life today."

Images of her blank eyes and pale lips flood my mind, and my stomach drops. If I had just left into the Spring without helping her, the consequences could have been deadly. Not for the first time, I curse the strange, early winter and the chill it brought the Spring.

"I figured you'd want to keep your toes and fingers," I say lightly.

The corners of her lips twitch slightly.

She sighs and shifts her cloak to wrap closer around her, and something catches my eye.

I frown as I pull back the edge of her cloak cautiously. My stomach drops.

Dark blood is soaked like a blossom through the fabric of her left sleeve. She follows my eyes and grimaces.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I suppose I got distracted," she mumbles as she digs through her pack for something to dress the wound. Gently, I pry the pack from her tremblings fingers and find a thin tunic of mine and rip long pieces from it. I beg my numb fingers to cooperate as I settle close to her and take her arm gently in my hands, rolling her sleeve up to her shoulder. Her jaw clenches in pain, but she remains quiet.

Long claw marks stretch from her bicep to her forearm. The skin around the wound is red and angry, and fresh blood trickles off the lacerations and onto the stone beneath us. I refrain from sighing as I stand to collect a pile of snow collected at the edge of the Spring, and return to press it against the wound.

Zelda clenches her jaw in pain, and I offer quiet apologies as I work. I try to focus my thoughts on the wound, rather than the warmth of her arm against my fingers and the sound of her breaths just beside my ear.

"We'll need to head back to my house as soon as possible in the morning. I have medicine in my storage room." After dressing the wound, I roll her sleeve carefully back down. She takes a steadying breath, and I watch her face closely to ensure she doesn't faint. But she seems to calm herself and meets my eyes.

"I need to return Ilia's cloak as well," she says, and I give her an amused smile. Always so sure to repay kindness, she is. She raises one eyebrow slightly as she looks at my grin.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, Your Majesty."

She wrinkles her nose slightly at the title, and I only smile more.

"'Zelda' is perfectly sufficient, Commander," she reminds me as she stands to organize her makeshift bed across the fire. She keeps her left arm tucked close to her body and is careful to use it as little as possible.

I make my own bed and settle into it, using my arm as a pillow. I stare at at the long shadows the fires casts against the cracked stone above us as I listen to her lay down in her own across from me. "You still glad I can speak again?" I ask her jokingly.

She's quiet for a long moment, and I begin to wonder if she's fallen asleep. I close my eyes as well, letting my tiredness take over me. Her voice is quiet when she finally does respond.

"I've missed your voice, Link."

-o0o-

We leave the Spring as soon as the sun begins shining through the tall trees. The day is clear and chilled, and the sunlight makes the snow and frozen droplets hanging from the tree branches shimmer like gems. I watch the paw prints in the snow as we follow the way we came, glad that I'm leaving the Spring on two legs, not four. But walking through the deep snow on two legs and thin riding boots is much more strenuous and difficult.

I carefully lead Zelda around the clearing with the dead wolfos. She's fierce with a bow and arrow, but I know killing anything—even a heartless wolfos—weighs on her conscience. So we hiking through a grove of bare aspens instead.

I'm reminding Zelda to not walk too closely to the trees incase the snow gives in next to their trunks when I hear her steps slow. At once, I spin around, worried that she's bled too much and is losing consciousness. But she's crouched over a snow-covered pile of rubble and tree roots. Curiously, I join her side and watch as she retrieves a shimmering blue object from on top of the rubble. She stands to face me, eyes pinned on what looks like an oval flute. Her eyes hold a mixture of confusion and awe.

"An ocarina," she proclaims. She turns it over in her hands, studying the surface. It's a deep, royal blue, with a silver band engraved with the Triforce around the mouthpiece. Her right hand begins to glow slightly as her piece of the Triforce resonates dimly. My left hand tingles, and I lift it to see the Triforce of Courage glowing as well. Zelda and I meet eyes, sharing a look of uncertainty.

A familiar, teasing laugh echoes through the trees. Though I study the branches, I don't catch sight of him anywhere. Zelda glances around in concern, but I give her a reassuring grin.

"It's just a friend," I tell her. Her posture relaxes, but her eyes still search the Woods for the origin.

"A 'friend'?" She asks, pocketing the ocarina with care. "How are you so sure?

I begin stepping through the snow again, extending my hand out to Zelda to aid her in stepping from the rubble. She takes it hesitantly and allows me to guide her through the snow and around the trunks of the aspen trees.

"Skullkid," I explain, releasing her fingers after we resume our path. My hand feels cold without hers. "At least that's what he said his name was."

Zelda is quiet behind me, likely deep in thought as always. "I suppose he was the one who placed the ocarina there for us."

We leave the reaches of the aspens, entering back into the massive trees of Faron Woods. The air is noticeably colder in the shadows where the noon sunlight doesn't reach.

"What makes you think it was left for us?"

"Ocarinas have not been used in centuries. This one is clearly made of clay, so that would mean to last all this time it would have to be well-preserved out of the weather. The finish is still polished and clear of any wear or grime. Someone has been taking care of it. There is no way it was left in that rubble for all this time; it was put there recently."

I resist the urge to chuckle at her analysis of the ocarina, and opt instead to smile fondly. "That certainly makes sense to me. If we run across Skullkid, we'll have to be sure and thank him."

"Yes," she agrees. Then she adds to herself, "as well as ask him why he gave it to us."

The day is tiring and long, and my legs ache after trudging through the snow for so long. It's early evening when we meet back up with the main path through Faron Woods, and I thank the packed snow that allows for easier walking. My boots are completely soaked through, and my limbs are numb from the cold. As I help Zelda up the ladder to my house, I see she is equally as chilled as I am. Her nose is bright red, and her fingers are frozen. But her eyes are sharp and aware, so I breathe relief. No fear of hypothermia, this time.

But even then, I fear her falling ill from spending so much time in the winter air.

As soon as we stumble into my house, I set about starting the fire as Zelda peels away her soaked cloak.

"The heat of the Gerudo Desert will be a stark change to this," Zelda mutters as she warms her hands by the flames in the hearth.

"Actually, I think we should head to the castle in the morning," I decide after retrieving medicine and bandages from the storage space accessible only by ladder.

She looks from the flames and meets my eyes. "The castle? We must reach the final Spring before our four weeks are through. Stopping at the castle would waste valuable time."

"Yes, but there's been enough trouble in these Woods alone. You need time to recover and heal that wound," I gesture to her arm with the bandages in my hand.

"My wound will be perfectly fine with ointment and proper dressing."

"There is no guarantee that it will heal properly. Besides, we've spent the past several days in the cold. You may get sick. The castle has better treatment than I do here."

"You are overestimating the severity of the wound. A measly set of scratches is hardly reason to waste time that we are already short on. A trip to the castle would serve no good at—"

"It is my duty to ensure your safety, Zelda," I snap.

Some strange emotion akin to hurt flickers in her eyes for a split second, and it throws me off guard. But the moment passes. She turns more toward me now and settles her feet firmly to the ground. She squares her shoulders ever so slightly. I recognize this stance. It's her "queenly authority" posture that she uses in council meetings that become particularly heated. It's a posture that just dares you to defy her.

"You do not need to demean me as though I am a child, Link. I am glad you are committed to your duty, but I can assure you that I am fine. I am completely capable of caring for myself and understanding what I need. Returning to the castle now would be a complete waste of valuable time. We do not know what awaits us. Urgency is our best bet—not a petty visit back to the castle as a preemptive measure against something that may not even happen."

I sigh, realizing that arguing with her is hopeless. "I don't mean to treat you like a child. I just want to make sure—"

"Someone is coming," Zelda cuts me off, eyes snapping to the door. We're both silent now, ears tuned. Sure enough, I hear footsteps on the ladder outside. I recognize them instantly, knowing they belong to Ilia.

"She still can't know I'm here," I say softly to Zelda as I move out of the linesight of the door. "I'm supposed to be at the castle."

She nods, and answers the door after Ilia knocks softly. From where I stand, I can barely see Zelda's back.

"Pardon my intrusion," I hear Ilia say, "but I was hoping to make sure you're okay. I noticed your horse was still here last night, but no one answered the door when I knocked. I thought that maybe...well, anyhow—I was just checking again in case something happened in the Woods and you still hadn't returned."

"I appreciate your concern," Zelda replies. "All is well, I can assure you. In fact, I will be leaving on the morrow. Forgive me for staying so much later than planned."

"Oh! Don't worry at all! It's no problem. It's not as though this house gets any use anyways."

"Certainly not. Excuse me a moment," Zelda shifts away from the door, but leaves it slightly ajar. I hold my breath in hope that Ilia refrains from being her usual bold self and allowing herself into the house. Thankfully, she stays where she is.

Zelda returns with the cloak in hand. "I cannot thank you enough for your generosity, Ilia."

I grin as I hear Ilia try to insist Zelda to keep the cloak. Ilia has no clue how useless it is to try and deter the queen of Hyrule from repaying kindness.

-o0o-

The sun has long since fallen by the time I decide to retire to bed. Zelda and I had made a compromise over our argument, deciding that we would stop at the nearest settlement outside of Ordon to pick up proper supplies and spend at least one night of recovery there. She still was irritated with the delay, even if it is only one night, but she reluctantly agreed nonetheless.

Few words have been exchanged since then. Now, she's sitting cross-legged next to the hearth, making marks on her map with a charcoal stick. We both took the opportunity to wash up at the bathhouse just outside of the main part of Ordon, though I had to wait until later in the evening after the village had all retired to their homes in case I was spotted. Zelda's skin is still rosy from the heat of the water, and her damp hair is tied up in a knot at the back of her head. There's a small smudge of charcoal on her face from tapping the stick against her lips in thought.

Seeing her in such a natural state is so different and strange from how I see her in the castle. Within the stone walls, she's always donned in the most recent styles of fine gowns with her hair tied intricately with ribbons or braids, her queen's circlet always polished, and carries herself with a perfect posture. Her stoic mask is always fastened firmly in place as she traverses the halls with quick, purposeful steps. There, she is the epitome of royal poise.

But I can't help but think that her, sitting at the fire with charcoal on her glowing skin, studious eyes in concentration, wearing trousers and a travel tunic, is Zelda. Not Queen Zelda Harkinian of Hyrule—just Zelda.

I force myself to look away and busy myself with organizing my bedding to distract from the sudden urge to cross the room and kiss the charcoal smudge just below her lips. Am I no better than the mouthy soldiers in the barracks, making obscene comments about their young sovereign? Sure, it is no secret that Zelda is beautiful. The whole kingdom praises her for it. But for me, it's beyond her fair skin and delicate features. I've become enraptured by her brilliant mind, the way she taps her fingers against her leg when she's puzzling over something, the way she hums music when she thinks no one is listening, her fierce love for her people.

I resist the urge to sigh in frustration. I'm truly hopeless, aren't I?

"You seem unwilling to see Ilia," Zelda says suddenly, not looking from the map. "Do you mind me asking why?"

"She believes I'm at the castle, so it wouldn't make much sense for me to be home so suddenly."

Zelda peers over her shoulder, looking unconvinced. But she doesn't prod any further, and just waits patiently.

Now I do sigh.

"I told you we were to marry each other, remember? That was decided after I had settled into the village as a kid. I grew up believing she would be my wife, that we would have children and grow old together."

Quietly, Zelda shifts more to face me as I talk. I hesitate a moment as I sit down on my makeshift bed, trying to gather my thoughts. I hadn't ever thought much about marrying Ilia growing up. It's what Bo and Rusl had decided for us, and I simply accepted it. When they told me, I was seven years old and naive. I had only been in the village for little over a year, so any promise of a normal future sounded appealing to me.

"But it was just before the Invasion when I started to realize that I didn't feel anything for Ilia beyond a brotherly love. We grew up as best friends; nothing more. I'm unsure how to tell her I don't want to marry her. There aren't many ways to tell someone that without crushing their heart."

"She loves you." It sounds more like a statement than a question.

"Yes," I reply. "But she's too much like a sister to me. I don't want to condemn her to a marriage where she doesn't receive the type of love I know she expects."

"When will you tell her?"

I look away and into the flames of the fire. It's cowardly of me to avoid Ilia like I am. She sends letters to me in the castle, most of which I only give vague replies to. My eyes return to Zelda, who is giving me an expectant look.

"I promise to tell her as soon as this adventure is over," I assure, and Zelda nods. "I know it's foolish of me to hold it off as long as I have."

She looks back to her map, though her eyes seem to stare through it. "Love is never an easy force to tamper with," she replies softly.

No, I agree silently, looking over her delicate profile illuminated by the flames. It isn't.

Without a word more, she stands from her spot in front of the hearth and turns toward the ladder leading to the level where has slept the past few nights. She folds up the map her in hands, then climbs the rungs. I settle down into my own bedding, trying to silence my whirling thoughts.

How am I going to tell Ilia? It would be even more cowardly of me to tell her over letter and not in person. I don't want her to wait for me, though. The sooner I tell her the sooner she can look for someone else to marry. She told me several times growing up that she loved me, and I always said I loved her like a sister. Anytime I would offer that reply, she would give me an saddened look. I know she hoped I would fall in love with her too.

After the Twilight Invasion, I changed so much that I knew with certainty that I couldn't marry Ilia. I had seen Hyrule and its diversity and vastness, and understood that I wanted a life where I could contribute to something beyond myself. Settling down in Ordon would be a peaceful life, but I wouldn't be satisfied. I would miss Hyrule and the people I met along the way.

And I would miss her. Ordon is so far from the castle, and the only time I would ever visit Zelda would be to bring tributes from the village. Seeing her would be like a stab in the chest each time, knowing that I love her but married someone else.

But even if I don't marry Ilia, there's no saying where my life would end up. There's no guarantee to a future with Zelda, especially when I don't know if she harbors any feelings for me. But Zelda is young, and the last of her blood. In the few council meetings I am allowed to attend, one of the members always seem to bring up the topic her marrying a suitor and producing heirs for the throne. The thought of Zelda marrying someone else and carrying his children nearly makes me sick.

Would she even love him? She deserves someone that would love her and treat her well. All during her life she has given so much to the kingdom, sacrificed and suffered so much. Her nightmares testify of that much.

Doesn't she deserve at least one happiness in her life?

If only there—

"Goodnight, Link," Zelda's voice drifts from her place on the loft.

I close my eyes, exhaling a breath and silencing my thoughts.

"Goodnight, Zelda."

—-

ZELDA

By the time I wake, daylight is filtering through the window far above me and illuminating the house with a soft glow. I stretch my limbs, flinching at the way the skin around my wound aches and protests against the movement. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the smell of the blankets pulled up around my shoulders. It smells like hay and pine needles, and polished leather. It smells like Link. My face warms as I wonder what it would be like to bury my nose in his shirt rather than his old blankets—

I sit up at once, snapping my attention away. Don't be so foolish, I reprimand myself silently. You aren't some schoolgirl with a strange infatuation.

Shaking my head slightly, I slide off the bed and peer over the wood railing to see if Link is still asleep. I've slept in longer than usual, but I'm still surprised to see his bed empty. The blankets he used are rolled up neatly and placed on one of his shelves. There's no trace of him in the house.

Hurriedly, I climb down the ladder and check the dark storage room where he had gotten supplies last night.

"Link?"

No reply.

I check around the house a few more times, confirming that he is, in fact, gone. All of our supplies are still in our packs by the door, so he likely wasn't planning on going far. Perplexed, I peer out the front door to see his footsteps in the fresh snow that must have fallen last night. They lead to Ordon village. Two pairs of footsteps leave the village, leading down the road northward.

Assuming he will return, I close the door and busy myself with packing supplies for our journey.

He might be speaking to Ilia, I conclude. Hopefully setting things right.

Not five minutes later, Link steps through the door with a tired look on his face. Silently, he shakes the snow from his boots and sets about the room, packing things up and putting things as they were when we first arrived.

"Did everything go well?" I prod carefully. His hands slow in their movement of cleaning up the hearth, and he stands up with a sigh.

"As well as you might imagine," he replies, not turning to face me. "She was upset."

I stand as well, waiting for him to say something more. He always takes careful time to form his thoughts, so I know well to be patient.

"But she also said she had suspected that I didn't want to marry her. Once the initial anger wore off, she was actually quite understanding. We both agreed that us wedding likely would not be a smart choice."

My memory replays the night I first met Ilia, and how she had regarded me with poorly concealed suspicion and anger. But that had quickly subsided and she has been nothing but helpful and kind since.

"I am sorry that you had to break it to her at such short notice," I say gently. He looks at me over his shoulder thoughtfully.

"I'm not. I'm glad to have gotten that dealt with."

We both say nothing, and keep our eyes locked until I feel my cheeks threatening to redden. But after awhile, he hoists our packs over his shoulder and steps to the door. He offers a forced smile.

"Ready to head out?"

"Yes."

I saddle up my horse for the journey, rubbing her nose affectionately. She huffs a cloud of air, and I murmur apologies for her having to stay in the cold for so long. Link joins my side as I lead her by her reins onto the road, and together we make our way out of Faron Woods.

"You ought to ride her so you don't waste your energy," Link looks at me out of the corner of his eyes. I resist the urge to roll mine.

"Walking is not going to hurt me," I reply half-heartedly. "Besides, it would not be kind of me to ride a horse while you walk."

"You allowed it before," he reminds me, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"I am not sure how well a wolf can ride a horse."

"You're serving no good in walking."

"Is this your plot to remove me from your side so that you can be left alone?"

He looks at me in surprise. "Zelda, that's not what I—"

Upon seeing the teasing look in my eyes, he rolls his and grins.

"Please?"

I sigh, giving in. "Very well, you stubborn man."

Link takes my hand to help me onto my horse. "I'm half as stubborn as my queen."

I turn and wrinkle my nose at him before mounting, and become very aware of how close we are.

The winter air suddenly seems very hot, and we both grow silent. Not for the first time since he transformed back into his Hylian form, I notice how handsome he is. His eyes seem to glow against the stark white of our surroundings, his jaw is strong and sharp, his dusty blond hair pleasantly untamed as always. There's a rough and wild look to him that is undoubtedly alluring, a look so different from any of the suitors and noblemen that visit the castle in pursuit of my hand in marriage. Those men are so polished that they have no uniquely charming traits anymore.

We've both been close and silent too long, and I feel the need to say something to distract from the growing heat on my face.

"There once was a time when I was taller than you," I mutter half-heartedly, gazing up at him. It's true—some time in the past few years he had a growth spurt. We once looked eye-to-eye, but now I have to look up to meet his gaze.

My voice seems to snap him from his silent daze, and he blinks a few times. After a moment, his crooked grin returns as he helps me step up onto the saddle.

"We were the same height," he argues.

"I was slightly taller."

"Hardly."

Chapter Text

ZELDA

The air noticeably warms as we head out of Faron Woods and into the open expanse of Hyrule Field. The snow slowly lessens as we follow the road, and the signs of autumn replace the stark white. I find myself breathing in the scent of leaves and dry grass appreciatively, glad to be out of the cold. Link occasionally looks over his shoulder at me, smiling slightly to see me taking in the autumn air. He clearly is much more used to the frigid air of Faron winter than I am, thus was hardly affected by it.

Suddenly, I recall the words he told me last night when speaking about Ilia. He had mentioned that the decision that he would marry Ilia was decided "after he had settled into the village as a kid". I had always assumed he was born in Ordon, but he made it sound as thought that wasn't the case. Previously, he had been raised by Rusl and Uli, a kind couple that I know from the husband's military services. He never made any mention of parents nor siblings, so I assumed he was put into their care when he was an infant.

"You were not born in Ordon, were you?" I ask carefully, my voice sounding out of place among the peaceful sounds of nature around us. Perhaps it's rude to prod, but I can't help but want to know more about the man that saved my kingdom and leads my Royal Guard.

He glances back at me, a easy look on his face. "No, I wasn't. I was born on a ranch just outside of Faron. The ranch is gone now, though."

"I see," I reply softly. Does he remember living on the ranch, or did Rusl tell him that's where he was born? "Were you old enough to remember much from it?" I'm approaching what may be dangerous waters now. I have no clue what happened to his parents, nor the ranch. But he shows no sign of discomfort or sorrow. Though it's hard to gauge where I can't see his face.

"Only glimpses," he says casually. "I was nearly six when Rusl and Uli took me in. I don't remember my parents' names. I can recall my mother's hazel eyes though, and my father's hair. It was the brightest red color, and I was convinced it was made of fire," he chuckles. "My father always told me I was named after my ancestor who had done great things. He supposedly was a leader in the royal army that had fallen in battle, but not before winning it."

"Well, you certainly seem to be following your namesake," I consider thoughtfully.

He flashes me a crooked grin that makes it hard not to smile along with him. "It would seem so.

"Father also told me that if I had been a girl like mother wanted, that they would have named me...Melany?" He stops to think for moment, trying to recall the name. "Maybe it was Malon—I can't recall for sure. Either way, it was also a family name.

"I can remember how my father would speak to the cows and horses at the ranch, and how they seemed to understand him." He shakes his head fondly, lost in memory.

"That would explain your talent with animals," I say, and he chuckles again.

"It seems I got most of my traits from my father's side. Well," he considers, "besides the bright hair. My mom was much more fierce and strong-headed, but affectionate and motherly all the same from what I can remember."

"They sound like they were lovely," I allow a small smile on my face to hear Link speak so cheerfully of his family. He nods, watching the sky thoughtfully. But his expression fades to something much more solemn, and his eyes return to the road in front of us. I know what he's thinking. Such wonderful parents, and yet they are gone from this world. It's a feeling I know all to well.

Though, mostly for my mother. She was so graceful and kind, and all of Hyrule seemed to adore her. She was a stark opposite to my father, who was stern and strict. As a young girl, my mother would always discreetly encourage my tomboyish tendencies, telling me that I ought to enjoy my childish freedom and joys before the world expected me to let them go.

But the world didn't just tell me to let them go—it ripped it from me ferociously.

Silence stretches between Link and I as we ponder over our own thoughts, likely thinking of our parents. My curiosity and respect war with each other as I consider asking Link what happened to his parents. He still clearly mourns them, and it might reopen old wounds.

Before I can make a decision, he lead my horse and I off the main road and helps me dismount. I look at him quizzically, and he offers a strained smile.

"There are few places in Hyrule to eat lunch that are more beautiful than this one," he says simply, leading me by the hand to a worn stone railing across the grass. He drops the reins and allows my horse to graze as I peer over the railing.

Before me is Lake Hylia, gleaming in the midday sun. From up here I can see the massive waterfall that pours into it from Zora's River. Ospreys hang lazily in the air as they watch for fish, and we're high enough up that we're nearly eye level with them. The trees and grass around the lake are flaming colors of gold and red. I've seen the lake many times in my life, but never at this angle. It's beautiful, to put it simply.

I tell Link as much. He's leaning casually against the stone, watching my face closely with a light smile. I scold my heart to stop stuttering.

After gandering at the view, we eat a light meal and take a break from traveling. The cool air of the lake barely reaches us from up here, but I can feel it faintly. It reminds me of summers spent with my mother there, fishing and swimming in the lake's clear water. It reminds me of what I want to ask Link.

My curiosity finally gets the best of me.

"What happened to your parents?" I ask softly, carefully. My eyes meet his face as he looks out at the water. He lets out a soft sigh and says nothing. I open my mouth to apologize, my face heating.

"It was a plague," he begins softly.

The plague. My heart aches. It makes sense. If he was almost six when he found refuge in Ordon, that would have been nearly a decade and a half ago. A highly infectious and deadly plague broke out that winter. It wiped out a massive portion of Hyrule's population. I remember it clearly, as I was not allowed to leave the castle for the entire season and was required to wear gloves everywhere I went. My father halted holding audiences and council meetings. The entire castle was strangely quiet and stagnant for months. Everywhere smelled of death. Even now, I can hardly visit the western wing of the castle without being overcome with dark memories, of my loss...

I shudder, forcing the train of thought away and back toward Link.

"My father caught it first after a milk delivery. As soon as he discovered what the sickness was, he locked himself in his room. I was too young to understand why," he shakes his head mournfully. "My mother insisted to care for him though, and he eventually became too weak to refuse her. She fell sick not long after my father died."

"I am so sorry," I whisper, so softly that I almost can't hear myself. He just shrugs and shakes his head again.

"Rusl had been on his way to Castletown, but stopped by the ranch to rent a horse for the road. He found me, half starved, and brought me back to Ordon."

"It is a miracle he was leaving the village," I tell him, and he looks at me for the first time in a while. I nearly flinch at the sadness on his face, and feel guilty for forcing him to resurface memories of such a dark time.

"What do you mean?"

"My father decreed a temporary statute that halted all trade and travel throughout Hyrule in an attempt to limit the spread of the plague," I explain. Link gives me a puzzled look.

"The plague was throughout all of Hyrule?"

I nod sadly. "It was a massive epidemic. It infected Zoras and Hylians alike, which is unusual. It began with the Zoras. They live in the water that supplies the rest of Hyrule, so the illness was spread at rapid rates from people simply drinking out of the supply."

"Is that why the Zora's population is so sparse?" Link ponders, and I nod.

"And why they have few elderly people and children, since most of that generation was wiped out."

Link says nothing, and looks back at the lake in thought. There's a slight furrow in his brow, and I resist the urge to smooth it with my fingertip.

"I am sorry for bringing it up."

He blinks at me for a moment, then offers a tight smile. "Don't be," he tells me. "It's nice to unload a bit, I suppose."

I give him an appreciative look as I watch the breeze tousle his dark gold hair. I consider telling him of my parents' deaths, but he very likely already knows. The entire kingdom knows of their fate, and they mourned them greatly. My father, though stern, was a competent king that all of Hyrule prospered under, and my mother's gentle disposition was adored by many.

So I'm surprised when he asks.

"What happened to yours?" He asks softly. "If you don't mind speaking of them."

"You never heard?" I ask in surprise, and he shakes his head uncertainly.

"News of Hyrule doesn't always reach Ordon, especially after Rusl retired from his military service."

I nod in understanding. "They were on diplomatic business to Old Kakariko when it was still somewhat intact. My father was hoping to make amends with the Sheikah. Long ago, the tribe served the royal family closely, until one of the kings of Hyrule banished them to the village out of mistrust of their advanced magic and technology."

"It was a death sentence," he observes, and I nod.

"The north was in turmoil at the time; a dangerous place to live. It is no wonder why most of the Sheikah either died off or were scattered. But my father was determined to reestablish connections.

"Some of the Sheikah were less willing, however," I say quietly, and Link watches my face empathetically. Speaking of my parent's death rouses an old and familiar ache. Their death was so sudden, and it spurred the kingdom into an uproar. The council insisted I become princess regnant at once to replace the sudden empty thrones until I married and was crowned queen. The weight and responsibility of being the sole sovereign of Hyrule, being the last of the royal family, and the fresh death of my parents was enough to nearly crush me. But I learned to press my losses and mourning down where I don't notice it. I fought to be coronated to queendom without being married, to which my council opposed time and time again. I had finally convinced them, but then the Twilight Invasion ravaged the kingdom.

"Their carriage was ambushed on the way there. Rogue Sheikah robbed and murdered them in the narrow pass."

Link says nothing, only offering silent support as he listens. Strange that he can remain quiet and still bring so much comfort.

After a while of silence, I admit what I've never told another soul: "I think there was more to the attack."

"What do you mean?"

I furrow my eyebrows slightly, searching over the expanse of Lake Hylia. After a moment of searching for words, I just shake my head. I'm not certain I want to burden Link with the mistakes and complicated past of my family. "I am not sure. My father had a history with some members of the Sheikah, and I think they were the ones that murdered my parents. I have no solid proof, but I still am suspicious."

"You are the most clever and brilliant woman I know," Link says. "I have no doubt that your instinct must mean something."

I blink, surprised and embarrassed by the sudden compliment. Sure, I've been reminded many times of my intelligence, but it normally comes from suave suitors simply trying to flatter me. Coming from Link, however, it's much different.

It's much more meaningful.

"Thank you." I say softly. "That means worlds to me."

He offers me a dazzling grin and pushes off of the stone.

"Shall we continue on our way?"

"Of course."

The descent into Lake Hylia is long and slow going from the steep road. I have to don my hood again to hide my face, as there are many merchants and travelers on the road making their way to or from the settlements around the lake. When the water had dried up during Invasion, many people abandoned the quaint villages and homes scattered about the shores and within the trees. But now that the lake is filled and Zora's River flowing with clear water, people have trickled back into the settlements, and even built more. Eventually, I dismount my horse and walk by Link's side so I can blend in easier among the masses of people. He leads the way to a small settlement among a copse of trees.

I recognize the place immediately. The people here petitioned to become an official village after the population influx. Willingly, I obliged and named it the requested name, "Deya Village", after the family that first settled there.

Deya Village is bustling and lively as soon as we enter. The homes and shops are all new and polished, but clearly hand-crafted from nearby trees with care. It's a charming fishing community, and wares supplied by the lake are advertised left and right.

"They are prospering so much," I say to Link, and he agrees with a proud smile.

"Hylians are resilient that way. Only a few years after a crisis and they're already on their feet and blossoming. There has been word that some Zoras are settling here as well to sell goods from the Domain and to offer transport on the lake."

"I had heard it was a successful village," I breathe, "but seeing it now in person is something entirely new."

We approach a small inn off the center of the village. Driftwood is strung across its porch like homemade windchimes, and the door is painted a bright blue that mirrors the sky. Upon entering, the smell of weathered wood and pumpkin greets me. The interior has accents of a similar blue to the front door along the wood walls. I find myself adoring the inn immediately.

"Welcome," a friendly elderly man behind the counter greets us as we walk up.

"One room with two beds, please."

The man raises a single white brow comically, looking between the two of us. "Two beds?"

Link ignores his teasing smirk and offers an innocent smile with a nod. My cheeks burn, and I'm grateful for the hood to cover my face with shadow.

"All righty."

He hands off a key and tells us the room number cheerfully. Before we head up their stairs, I stop and turn back to the man.

"Pardon me," I say, trying to cover up my accent as best I can, "would you happen to know the recent population count of Deya?"

The man grins. "Ah, I try to keep track, but the numbers began rising too quickly for me to keep up with. Last time I checked, though, it was over three-hundred. But that was a month or two ago—and not even counting them vacationers," he chuckles heartily. "Seems everyone wants their taste of the lakeside life."

I have a difficult time not smiling proudly. Three-hundred? That's upward toward Kakariko's population. Hyrule is thriving now that harm as been limited, and my heart soars because of it.

"Thank you," I reply. My stomach gives a noisy grumble. "And may we have an order of whatever that pumpkin is?"

-o0o-

I won't admit it directly to Link, but my arm aches from the long day of travel. While he is gone in search of proper dressings for the wound, I let it air out. Removing the old wrapping reopens some of the incisions, and the skin around them is still bright red and angry. I wrinkle my nose at the pinching pain.

I just desperately pray that it doesn't become infected. That would cause even more delays, and Link wouldn't be as compromising this time. He likely would throw all propriety to the wind sling me over his shoulder, dragging me back to the castle against my will.

Sighing, I rest my head against the headboard of the narrow bed. The room is equally as charming and brightly decorated as the rest of the inn, and smells like a freshly built house. My stomach is full of pumpkin soup that tasted better than anything I have ever eaten—though Link insisted animitately that Uli's pumpkin soup would put it to shame.

My thoughts wander to Link. He's been so much more relaxed and cheery than I have ever seen him. Perhaps it is his adventurous side that is finally being satisfied. Being out of the castle has done much for both of us. Though it's under rather unfortunate circumstances, I am glad to be on the road. It's like I'm seeing a whole different Link, one that's more lively and free, one that makes it impossible not to grin like a fool around.

I do grin now, staring at the ceiling above my head and releasing a sigh.

That's twice since leaving the castle, I realize. It feels strange to smile. It feels wonderful and usual. It's a shame I have to mask it.

The smile slowly fades from my face. But it was a decision I made, was it not? My mother always openly smiled and laughed. Why don't I?

But I know. I know my stony face is the barrier between a semblance of fake calm on the outside and the whirlwind of chaos inside my head. As soon as my mask is removed, I know there will be no holding back years of sorrow and guilt.

Once I break completely, what if I can't pick myself back up and piece everything back together?

Now, I shake my head at the ceiling. My mask must stay, I remind myself stubbornly. The cost of it is that I must stifle my smiles. But it is worth it if I stay pieced together—albeit haphazardly.

But for some reason, no matter how much I justify it, I still can't help but feel a loss from keeping my emotions so reined. When was the last time I laughed until my stomach hurt like a carefree girl?

I can't even remember.

It's nearly twilight when Link knocks twice on the door, entering after I call him in. He has a bundle of supplies and food in his arm and his eyes are narrowed in irritation.

I raise an eyebrow at him from my spot by the window with one of the inn's books in my hand. He shakes his head.

"Sorry for taking so long," he mutters as I settles everything on the small nightstand between our beds. "Got caught up with some people from Castletown."

"Not voluntarily, I presume?"

He snorts. "They're rather...avid girls."

"Oh?" I tease, quirking a brow again.

Link narrows his eyes in feigned irritation. "And you said men are pigs. You've never met teen girls."

My lips twitch in humor. "I do believe it is rather impolite to compare a lady to swine. Yet, it is only fair you get your turn of irritating and obnoxious attention from the opposite sex."

He looks back at the door, eyebrows furrowed slightly. He mumbles something quietly, and I try to decipher the words.

"I suppose we ought to bandage that arm," he says, changing the subject and distracting me before I can process what he mumbled. "Before you stain the inn's rugs," he adds.

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes as he gathers some bandages and ointment. He gently seats us both on his bed and presses a rag saturated with some medicine to the wound. I hiss in pain as the disinfectant burns on my skin and seems to boil the open flesh. Link apologizes with a sympathetic look.

"Wolfos. Nasty beasts," he mutters as he cleans and rebinds my arm, hands gentle and precise. If I weren't too busy clenching my jaw in pain, I would blush at the feel of his fingertips against my skin.

"They are not indigenous to Faron," I say thoughtlessly, trying to fill the air with words. "The statue must have conjured them for the trial."

Link hums in response. "Makes sense, I suppose."

He finishes caring for my arm, and I thank him as I move to back to the window to silently watch the sun disappear over the desert in the distance. He packs away the supplies into his pack, and organizes his things. The pain in my arm slowly fades into a distant throb.

The sun dips away, casting the world into faded, eerily beautiful light. Instantly, my thoughts wander to the Twilight Realm, and to a certain mouthy princess that I miss more than words can say.

"I hope she is happy," I say to the horizon.

"I've always wondered if she thinks of us at this time of day," Link says softly at my side, also looking out at the dusk.

"How could she not after all that transpired?"

"Somehow, I doubt any of us will ever forget as long as we live."

I agree completely.

It's not until later that night when I'm nearly asleep when my brain suddenly recalls what Link had muttered after my teasing remark.

"There is someone's attention I wouldn't mind."

-o0o-

Particles of darkness lift from my vision until I'm staring at a village, bustling and cheerful, full of life. It reminds me of Deya Village. Perhaps it is.

People go about their day, smiles on their face as they exchange friendly nods with neighbors. Children scamper around, giggling and shouting in innocent fun. The sun is golden and warm.

I blink.

"It's all your fault," a voice growls.

My eyes open.

The village is empty, a shell of the busy place it just was. The once clean wood on the buildings is scorched, and doors swing open on their hinges. There are dark stains on the packed dirt, and I recoil as the metallic scent of blood reaches my nose.

"Your fault."

I blink.

I lift my hands, palm up, and they're covered in crimson blood. I gasp, a sound that echoes strangely in my ears. Frantically, I wipe them against my skirts, but they come back with even more blood. Droplets splatter soundly to the dirt beneath me.

Choking on a sob, I turn and sprint to the lake to wash my hands clean. I stumble through the trees, trying to ignore the smell of corpses. My feet carry me to the shore, and the water is red.

I fall back in horror, but I don't land on the ground.

Falling, screaming, trying to catch something to stop my fall.

I blink.

I'm standing in a prison of stone in my own home.

"It's your fault," Ganondorf snarls, and I feel the tip of a blade press against my abdomen through the fabric of my dress. He grabs my chin, yanks it to meet his gaze. I yelp, and he bares his teeth like a crazed beast.

"You made my people suffer. Now you will make your own people pay."

I blink.

Ganondorf is gone. Where he once was, is Link. My heart lurches.

But he isn't Link. His startling blue eyes are cast with broiling hatred, his mouth contorted into a malicious snarl. He presses the dagger harder against my stomach, and I choke on a cry as I feel the blade slicing through flesh.

"You are worthless."

He throws back the dagger away from my stomach, then lunges for me, and I cry his name. I throw my hands up to defend myself. But the attack never comes.

I open my eyes hesitantly, and another sob chokes from my throat. Link's unmoving form lays in a heap on the ground, eyes blank and faced at the twilit sky. There's blood on his tunic, and a trail of the dark liquid leads away from his body. It leads to me.

My hands are covered in blood.

I scream.

My flailing arms connect with something, hard. I'm choking on labored gasps, and tears threaten to spill over.

"Zelda! Goddesses—it's me!"

Strong hands pin down my arms, halting them from my wild and blind attacks. I squeak a pained cry. But still, I struggle against him. I want to look at my hands. I want to make sure they're clean. I need to clean the blood—

Link stares at me with wide eyes, then crushes me against his chest, and releases a shuddering breath as his arms wrap around me. "You're fine; you're fine. I'm right here." He repeats it like a mantra, and my fight gives out. I collapse limp against him, burying my face in his neck and trying desperately to fight back the tears. My breaths are shaky, and my entire body trembles.

"Zelda," Link says softly, and his voice rumbles against my ear. "What is it? Tell me what's wrong." He sounds so afraid, so sincere. It almost sends the tears out of my eyes.

"I can't," I choke, shaking my head ardently against his shirt. My arms snake around his neck, and I hold tight to him as I try to hold myself together. "I can't."

My mask, my barrier—it's bowing under the immense pressure. It's creaking, threatening to crack and splinter from the weight. And if it breaks, I will fall apart. I'll never be able to pick myself up and fit the pieces back together. There are already hardly any pieces intact.

"I can't," I say again, whispering it more to myself than Link. He says nothing, but I can feel him shake his head above me.

Eventually, my frantic breaths slow, and my heart beat resumes a steady pace. But still, I can see the empty village, the blood. I can see Link's blank eyes, staring at the sky. I hug tighter to Link, desperate for physical contact that I've been deprived of all these years from my isolation. He slowly eases us until he's sitting with his back against the headboard of my bed. Silently, he strokes my wild hair. I grasp onto him like he's a beacon in the midst of a hurricane, as though my life depends on it.

I try to ignore the nagging images of the dream by focusing on matching my breaths with Link's and listening to the steady pulse of his heart.

How absurd and uncouth for the unmarried queen to be wrapped in the arms of a man on her bed. But I can't bring myself to care. Not even slightly.

Then, I realize I'm sick.

I'm sick of being haunted by memories of the Twilight Invasion, of the dark things of my past that never seem to leave my mind. I can't even remember a time of my life that wasn't riddled in regrets and mourning, whether it being over my parents or Midna or my kingdom or my father's mistakes or my sister—

I release a frustrated breath, wanting more than anything to scream, throw something, or perhaps just sob. Where there's normally an numb emptiness in my chest, there is now a raging, blazing turmoil of trauma and sorrow that pounds against the walls I've put up to remain collected.

I'm so tired.

All I can do is press the panic and whirlwind inside me down and down until it's nothing but an ever-nagging presence, just waiting for a moment of my weakness to attack again.

How long will I last? How long until I break?

But you're not alone, are you? Something quiet and miniscule inquires in my head, and I search and grasp for the voice. And I realize that it is right. Link's breaths are steady beneath me, his warmth radiating underneath my fingers and chest. I'm not alone, I try to tell myself, all while listening to the heartbeat that is not my own against my cheek.

Eventually, exhaustion takes over me. My limbs feels heavy, and I feel myself slackening. My breaths slow even more. Vaguely, I feel a fear of sleep. I'm afraid of what my brain awaits for me.

But now, I can feel only comfort and safety enveloped by Link's arms. So I allow my consciousness to fade from me.

Just before I slip away, I hear Link whisper sadly.

"My stubborn queen."

Chapter Text

When I wake, I feel like I've just slept for days on end. My rest was heavy and blessedly dreamless. I can't even remember the last time I slept so soundly. I take a deep breath, for a moment disoriented when I smell pine needles and polished leather. My memory rushes back, bringing with it sharp images from my nightmare that nearly make me shudder. But more than that, bringing Link.

I become aware of the steady heartbeat beneath my ear, and my face heats at once. Slowly, I peer upward to see his head leaned back against the headboard of the bed at a uncomfortable angle, fast asleep with his lips slightly parted. I wince sympathetically. He'll probably have a crick in his neck for the rest of the day.

Careful to not wake him, I lean back and untangle his arms from my waist. He mumbles something in his sleep, but does not stir. For a moment, I can only watch him with a feeling of overwhelming gratitude. His hair is tousled and wilder than usual, but his face is relaxed and peaceful. The sight is entirely endearing, and I feel my face warm even more.

But as I look closer, I realize there's a spot of color on his lightly stubbled jaw that looks like a bruise forming.

Without thinking, I touch it softly with the tip of my finger. Frowning, I recall hitting something with my hand when I woke up in a nightmare-induced frenzy last night. I hadn't realized that something was Link.

I step out from between his legs and onto the wooden floor as quietly as possible, and busy myself with preparing a meal before we leave. Anything to distract me from the all-too-familiar feeling bubbling in my veins.

Sunlight is just barely beginning to stream into the room from between the curtains when he wakes.

"Good morning," I hear him rasp from behind me, and I startle enough that I nearly drop the compass I'm holding. Echoing his greeting, I turn to face him shyly. He gets to his feet, rolling out his neck with a grimace. "You should have woken me when you got up," he yawns.

I have to fight to rein in my thoughts from recalling the warmth of his throat against my face, of my body being draped against his. My heartbeat stutters.

"I thought you deserved to sleep in. Besides, it is the least I can do to apologize for the rather nasty bruise I gave you," my eyes drop to the spot on his jaw as he touches it slightly with a humorous grin on his face. His eyes twinkle with mirth.

"At least I know the queen can defend herself."

I shake my head at him, amused. Gradually, though, my mood of teasing leaves, and I meet his eyes.

"Thank you, Link," I tell him sincerely. "Truly. I..." Uncertain what to say, I shake my head. "You have no clue how much it meant to me."

He gives me a tender look that makes my chest constrict. "I'm always here, Zelda. No matter what."

It sounds like a promise, a covenant. What in Hylia's name did I do to deserve Link in my life? I may never know. But for now, I am wholly grateful and forever indebted to him. But all I hope is that he upholds his promise.

Knowing him, he will.

After eating a meal and packing our things, we head out of the inn and return the key. The old man at the desk glances down at the welt on Link's jaw, and raises a curious and secretive brow. Link just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, which amuses the man to no end. I watch the whole interaction cluelessly, and blink in confusion as the man winks at me as he tells us farewell.

We leave my horse boarded at the local stable since she would struggle against the desert. I pat her goodbye, feeling sorry for leaving her idle again.

A massive part of me is sad to leave Deya Village. It's such a cheerful settlement, filled with fresh people eager to start a new life on the lakeside. Everyone here seems so free and content as they go about their affairs, so full of hope for what the day has in store. I can't help but let their enthusiasm rub off on me, and as we leave toward the desert I have a refreshed determination. One more Spring, and this time not in the bitter winter cold.

Logically, I should fear the desert more. I know it is a ruthless and barren place, and traversing it is no easy feat. Local legends tell of people that heard whispers and voices in the howling sandstorms, and became so enticed that they would walk headfirst through them. The desert would trail them in clueless circles until they disappeared or collapsed in exhaustion, only to be buried by the sands.

But at least it won't be freezing.

We stop by a small stream to fill our waterskins. Link had purchased more in Deya, and explained that there is nothing more valuable to have in the desert than water. Somehow, I have a hunch that he was speaking from experience. With plenty of water, we begin climbing the steep switchback trails up to the Gerudo Desert.

There are far fewer travelers along this path. We pass only a few souls, many of which look exhausted from their trek from the desert. Link stops a particularly worn man along the way.

"How is the weather west?"

"Well," the man drawls, grimy hands on his waist, "it ain't sandstorm season yet. But there are rumors of an early storm brewing." He shrugs. "From what I saw, it's just dry and unbearably hot as always."

Link thanks him, and we continue on our way.

"Sandstorms?" I ask. As far as I knew, sandstorms didn't afflict the desert around Arbiter's Grounds.

"Only far north and west, deep in the desert. As the man said, it's a bit early for sandstorms. But the Gerudo Desert is anything but predictable."

He glances back at my furrowed eyebrows and gives me a lopsided grin. "Just pray hard that we are fortunate enough to miss the nasty weather."

By the time we reach the desert, the air is already noticeably dry and sweltering. I feel sweat collecting along my forehead at once, and tug my hood over my face to shield from the sun. My eyes graze over the landscape, squinting against the blinding sunlight reflecting off the sand. I feel my heart sink as my eyes land on seven massive pillars rising in the north. Link follows my line of sight as well, and we're both silent and still for a moment.

"Let us be off," I say softly, breaking from my reverie. He gives a curt nod, and I follow him as he heads west as we planned this morning. We have absolutely no leads for this Spring, and no one to ask where it might await. The desert has been abandoned for centuries, and no one lives to tell of what it holds.

History tells of a seclusive race of women called the Gerudo that lived somewhere within the desert. But there was a bloody war between Hylians and Gerudo after their king, Ganondorf, was sealed and later brought to the Arbiter's Grounds for execution. Books tell of their barbaric combat, and how they seemed to throw themselves into battle like they were possessed.

I shiver, despite the heat. They sounded like frightful women. But their lack of strategy was their end, and our forces ended their culture. There are few descendants left of their race, one being Telma, a barkeep in Castletown. She certainly is feisty enough to be Gerudo, but is motherly and selfless beyond all odds.

The day drags on for what seems like forever. The sun stays longer in the sky it seems, since there are no mountains nor trees to obscure it sooner. Link and I exchange few words, likely too busy mentally cursing the heat.

Now I can't decide which one I hate more: bitter cold or blistering heat.

My calves burn from trekking through the sand, and it seems like I have to take two steps to travel the distance of one since my boots slide against the sand with each stride. But as I keep my eye on the horizon, I see no signs of sandstorms. The air is blessedly clear and still. Despite the deceptively barren sand, there are small signs of life everywhere. Small cacti rise from the dry soil in with vibrant flowers, odd reptiles and creatures scutter to and from rocks, and resilient trees with leathery leaves dot the expanse here and there. I can't help but admire their stubborn ability to thrive in such a deadly climate.

We're a ways past the Gerudo mesa when the sun settles on the horizon. The entire sky blazes amber, reflecting the color of the sand. The entire world seems to glow, and despite my exhaustion I can't help but admire it in awe. I nearly crash into Link's back from staring at the heavens when he stops. He spins around and grabs my waist to steady me as I stumble back from the sudden stop.

"We'll camp here for the night," he says, hands lingering on my waist. I nod, words failing me.

He lets go and unslings his pack from his shoulder. It feels strangely cold where his warm hands once were. I shake my head, snapping from my wandering thoughts.

For the love of Nayru, Zelda, I mentally reprimand myself. One touch shouldn't scramble your thoughts so severely.

And yet, it does.

Link unloads a pile of wood and makings for fire and settles it on a smooth red rock. The mere thought of a fire makes me sweat more. But the desert air is dry, and won't retain any of its heat once the sun slips completely behind the horizon. I know by then I will be grateful for a fire.

While he prepares the fire, I unload and make our small camp. We're up against the base of a ledge so the heat of the fire doesn't escape into the desert sky.

As I predicted, as soon as the sun disappears, the temperature drops considerably. I shiver a bit at the sudden change, and gravitate to the flames. I watch as the stars begin to appear into the sky, one by one.

Link sits beside me, leaning his back against the wall of the overhang. Though he is clearly exhausted, that hint of thrill from adventure and being out and about still buzzes in his eyes. I can't help but feel the same, the satisfaction of a long day of travel. The top of my nose stings from being exposed to the sun all day, my muscles ache, and there is probably an entire beach worth of sand in my boots—but they all tell of the distance we traveled. And this time, it's much more enjoyable with Link being able to reply to my comments and converse with me, and me being able to watch his lopsided grin when I crack an attempt at a joke.

Now we make light conversation, talking about nothing. I realize that despite the urgency of the situation and the mysterious shadow magic, I am the happiest now than I've been in years.

Link stops mid-sentence, suddenly freezing and listening closely to something. I raise an eyebrow, trying to listen to what caught his attention.

There.

There's a shuffling sound growing nearer from somewhere in the dark. I study my surroundings, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The moon hasn't risen yet, and it makes the night nearly pitch black. It sounds like someone with heavy steps, while dragging something in the sand.

In the corner of my eye, Link blanches and jumps to his feet at once.

"Zelda," he whispers curtly. "Can you summon your rapier yet?"

Slowly, I rise with him. My magic is still weak, and I can barely coax a flame from my fingers. I extend my hand outwards, trying to call to my blade. But it's exhausting, as if just trying to summon it is draining what little magic I have left.

"I am not sure if I—"

A chilling groan sounds to my left, only a few paces away, and I stumble back in surprise. Link throws me behind him at once, shielding me from whatever threat it is. I peer around his shoulder, watching in horror as a tall, mummified being shuffles into the light of the fire, dragging a massive claymore behind it.

A redead knight, I recognize at once. Link steps backward, pushing us both away. I open my hand behind my back, desperately willing my rapier to appear. Link's hand slyly snakes backward until it finds the dagger at my thigh.

"Stay outside of the reach of its sword," he whispers under his breath. Then, without another word he springs into action, yanking my dagger from its sheath and diving over the fire to deliver swift blows against the redead. I grab my bow by our packs and load an arrow at once, firing as soon as I see an opening. The skeletal monster stumbles backward slightly, but doesn't fall.

It suddenly tenses, and Link dodges backwards out of its reach. The redead releases a blood-chilling screech and I drop my bow. I crouch with my hands over my ears, trying desperately to drown out the splitting sound. Every muscle in my body seems to constrict and lock into place. Through my blurred vision, I can see the redead bracing it arm, ready to arc its blade over its head.

It stops screeching long enough to bring the sword down, and Link barely has time to roll out of the way.

Please, I plead mentally to the goddesses as I continue to call to my blade. Link resumes attacking the monster with the measly dagger, slowing it pursuit but otherwise causing little damage.

The redead coils again, and my stomach drops.

Now!

Something in the tense air snaps, and I feel my magic flood to my hand until it glows with gold light. My rapier appears from the air, spinning toward me like a windmill. The handle lands in my palm. Yes!

"Link!"

He spins to look at me just as I toss the blade to him, and he snatches it in his free hand. With the momentum, he plunges the thin blade between the redead's ribs, halting the scream about to release from its gaping mouth. Link shoves it off the rapier with his boot, and we watch in tense silence as the monster collapses to its knees with a shudder. It falls forward in a huff against the sand. The air is eerily quiet, save for Link's heavy breaths.

After a moment, Link rolls the mummified being away out of sight, and I shiver.

What other hellish things does this desert have in store?

Link is still wound tight when he reappears next to the fire, and hands me my rapier silently. I allow it to disappear out of my hand and back to the castle until we need it again. I only hope that it doesn't take so long to appear next time.

Link's eyes graze the night once, twice, looking for more threats. But I can't hear anything but an occasional crow calling in the distance. He looks upset, and he's muttering something in a furious drawl under his breath, his accent heavier than usual.

"Link; what?"

He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes as he peers through the dark. After checking again, he seems satisfied there is nothing more. He turns and begins making our beds. I arrive at his side, taking the roll from his hands and give him a pointed look.

"Is everything all right?"

Finally, he seems to realize I'm speaking to him and looks at me. He sits back on his heels, considering his words.

"Where there's one, there's always more," he says with a frown. Nervously, my eyes look out into the dark, searching for another lumbering redead. Just recalling the sound of its scream is enough to raise the hair on the back of my neck.

"I didn't see anymore, though," he follows my eyes. "Let's hope it remains that way."

I certainly hope so.

Normally, he sleeps on the other side of the fire, leaving a respectful distance between us. But tonight, he insists I sleep between him and the cliff wall.

"You'll be safer," he says gently after apologizing for taking up my space. I give him a tiny, closed-mouth smile that seems to surprise him into silence.

"I feel safer when you are close," I reply quietly, recalling the previous night when I slept so peacefully in his arms. I'm grateful for the dark cover of night as I feel the tips of my ears redden. After glancing at my lips, he shakes from his surprise and gives me a relieved smile. I know I'm not the only one that finds comfort in this accommodation. My safety means much to him.

But that night, in all odds against my exhausted body, I can't fall asleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see glimpses of the countless nightmares I've had the past three years. It almost seems as though my mind awaits for me to fall asleep so it can resurface all the dark things of the past that I've stubbornly shoved to the back of my mind, determined to ignore them. So I stare at the stars above, me trying to find comfort in their twinkling and in Link's presence only an arm's reach away with his back facing me.

I sigh. Sleep is essential to be able to keep up with the travel during the day. I count the days mentally. We have little over a week before my presence is required back at the castle. Hylia knows how far we will have to venture into the desert, so it may take an entire week to to travel back out of it. And there's no telling how long it will take to even find the Spring.

I only hope that the goddesses allow us some more luck to find Din's monument. Just one more.

My eyes wander past Link's head to the fire. The flames are burning low, and the wood is blackened and charred. The sight brings unbidden memories of last night's nightmare, of Deya's charming homes charred from war and fires. At once, I roll back onto my back, trying to force the thought from my mind.

They're getting worse, I observe silently. Back at the castle, I've suffered nightmares on many occasions that led to sleepless nights, huddled in front of my bedchamber's hearth, sipping tea in a poor attempt to calm my nerves and erase the images. But now, after the shadow magic removed the strength of my powers, they are much more frequent and lucid as though the protection of my light magic is no longer there to stifle the horrors.

Another shaky breath escapes my lips.

"I get them too."

Link's gentle voice nearly makes me flinch in surprise. He doesn't turn to face me, and I watch his back as it rises and falls with steady breaths.

"All too often."

My heart twinges with empathy, and I resist the urge to reach out to him, to hold onto him like last night.

"What do you do?" My voice is small. He always seems so strong and courageous; it's difficult to imagine him being dampened by nightmares. But I would be a fool to miss the haunted undertone of his hushed voice.

Now he does turn until he's also laying on his back, eyes trained on the sky thoughtfully. In the light, they're so dark in color that they remind me of an ocean during a storm.

"I write them down. And given the chance, I tell my fellowmen. They've seen traumatizing things just as I have, and they understand." There's something hanging unsaid. I understand; that's why you can tell me, Zelda.

"Will they ever go away?" I hate how weak and vulnerable my words sound. But he looks at me now, a sad smile playing on his lips.

"No, but they will fade. You'll learn to use them to become stronger."

I'm quiet for a long moment, swallowing against the lump in my throat.

"I am afraid," I admit, whispering as though my words will bring accusation from the heavens if I speak too loudly.

How are you fit to guide a kingdom when you yourself are lost?

"I am afraid of breaking beyond repair," I say.

His hand finds mine, and he intertwines our fingers. His calloused palm presses firmly against mine, spreading warmth up my arm. He turns his head fully now, watching my face closely with soft eyes.

"No," he replies. "You're too strong."

I say nothing, looking back to the stars. I don't tell him he's wrong, that I'm so fragile that I'll break anytime now. I don't tell him that there will be nothing left. Instead I hold onto his hand tightly, using his strength to anchor me in the wild storm.

As I sleep, my mind allows me a night absent of dreams.

—

LINK

My eyes burn as soon as I wake from the few hours of sleep I managed last night. Zelda's bed is already rolled up and packed away and is currently warming up food at the fire. She hums a soft tune as she works, oblivious and cheerful. I close my eyes again, smiling slightly. I had spent a better part of the night worrying over her, unable to look away from her sleeping face in case her nightmares surfaced again. But she slept in peace, her beautiful features relaxed and nose slightly pink from the cool air.

Zelda stops humming.

"Having pleasant dreams?" She teases upon seeing me smiling with my eyes closed.

"Simply happy to wake up to a such beautiful sound," I look up at her through my lashes to see her turn away in charming embarrassment. I get up and put away my bed things, trying to fight the fatigue weighing my body. There's no doubt that I'll sleep soundly tonight.

After a quick meal, we pack up camp and climb our way up a shorter section overhang we spent the night next to. With that, we continue on our grueling path westward, the hot sun at our backs. Zelda walks by my side today, pointing out little creatures scuttling through the sand and hawks circling in the sky. Her pale eyes are bright and intrigued as she watches our surroundings. I can't help but smile along to her interest. She can find beauty and life in even the barren Gerudo Desert.

We wind our way through the tall dunes. The desert is different here; there are few ravines and rock formations. All the sand is loose and fine, stacked into rippled piles that seem nearly as tall as the trees in Faron Woods.

Not far into the day, I become exhausted from climbing on the sand. Couldn't the goddesses have their Springs built in more convenient areas?

We stop under a lonely palm tree for lunch, sipping on water. Zelda's nose and skin of her collar bones are already burned again, and I tell her she we'll need to find some salve in Deya before she ruins her skin anymore.

She shrugs, uncaring. "Perhaps I will be as tan as you by the time we return to the castle."

"Doubt it," I grin at her over my waterskin. "If anything, you'll look like Lady Jera when she gets angry." The foppish woman makes a frequent appearance at court, and is known for her short temper. But her round face always turns a bright red as an apple when she gets worked up.

Zelda blinks in surprise. "That would be rather unfortunate," she presses the back of her hand to her lips as she tries to conceal her grin. I smile at her, gently prying her hand away from her face.

"Why do you do that?" I ask her curiously.

"What?" She looks cluelessly between my face and our hands. "Oh. I am not sure," she admits shyly. Nervous habit, I assume. It's undeniably adorable, but it also hides her smile.

Which I'd much rather see.

My thoughts return to the night she had woken in a panicked frenzy from night terrors, and the look of pure agony on her face when her eyes opened. What is so mortifying in her memories that causes her such dreams and trauma? Is it the same reason why she conceals her emotions? No matter how much I seem to ask her to tell me what is wrong, she refuses.

Her smile has long since faded now, and I realize I'm still holding her hand in my own.

I release her hand, looking around the dunes in an attempt to distract from my thoughts. She follows my line of sight with a masked expression as always.

"Where do you think this Spring will be?" I can't keep the incredulous tone out of my voice. Every dune looks the same, and everywhere I turn looks just like everything else.

"I wish I knew," she sighs.

"Well, I guess all we can do is keep moving forward."

But I feel as though we're aimlessly wandering, and we'll get lost and disappear into the sands like the local folks say. In the small portion of the Gerudo Desert I traversed, I learned it to be a merciless expanse filled with a number of horrors. Leevers seemed to infest every inch of sand. No matter how much I expect to see some now, however, they seem to be absent. Hyrule overall has been much more clean of monsters after the invasion—thank the goddesses. Running into a redead knight yesterday was a rather unpleasant surprise. I only hope there won't be anymore surprises as we wander the deeper into the desert.

Zelda turns to look at one of the massive dunes beside us thoughtfully.

"Perhaps we will see something if we reach higher ground." With that, she throws her pack over she shoulders and clambers her way up the dune. I follow behind her, cursing the sand as it slides and gives way under my feet with each step. We practically have to climb on our hands and knees to get to the top.

"Farore above," Zelda breathes once we stand on the dune. I look at our surroundings, seeing an impressive landscape of massive dunes that extend as far as my eyes can see. They surround us completely, and I feel a frightening feeling of isolation. I can't imagine trying to travel this desert alone.

"There," Zelda points northwest, and I follow her finger. It takes me a moment to figure out what she is pointing at but then I see it. There's a flatter expanse of sand, where the dunes seem to have been squashed down and smoothed. Just barely, I can see a spec of something on the horizon on the flat plane.

"It could be anything," I point out.

"But it is better than nothing."

So we set off northwest toward the flat sand. It will take another day—maybe two—to arrive at the plane, and even more to reach whatever it was on the horizon. But Zelda and I walk with determination, and I press through the exhaustion that seems to fog my mind. The blazing heat certainly doesn't help.

-o0o-

The sun begins to bow low into the sky, casting the world in rich colors. The dunes seem to stretch on forever, and our surroundings still look the same as they did hours before. If I didn't know better, I would think that we were trailing in circles. But still, I check our compass every so often to ensure we are, in fact, heading in the correct direction.

The sky deepens to a rosy color, telling of the end of the day soon to come.

"Zelda," I call. She's a few steps ahead of me, walking like she's in a trance. "I think we should stop and camp for the night. It's getting late." She doesn't stop, and presses forward as though she didn't hear me. "Zelda."

"Just a bit farther," she calls back. "I think we are getting close."

I sigh, and jog to catch up to her. "We can't be certain how much farther the plane is. Let's stop now."

She just shakes her head, leading us around a dune. On the other side awaits another one. I speed up, reaching out to her as we round the next one. My fingers stop in mid air as I see the dunes here noticeably smaller. Zelda glances at me over her shoulder, giving me a look that practically says, See?

"My stubborn queen," I mutter, and she turns away. Before long, the dunes flatten until only small ripples in sand spot the endless expanse. Zelda finally slows to a stop, gazing over the landscape. In the distance, I can see the spot that we had seen at noon. I squint, making out the faint shape of trees.

"It looks like an oasis," Zelda points out.

"We are not marching to it in the dark."

She looks at me, feigning exasperation. "Ah, fine."

It isn't the ideal place to camp, I realize as I unload. It's out in the open, not protected against a small cliff wall. But I suppose I'll be able to see the enemy out in the open just as it can see us, so we have an equal disadvantage.

We used up what little firewood we had last night, so the chill is much harsher without a fire as the sun falls behind the horizon and sends us into subdued light. Zelda checks over our rations and water levels, cataloguing the numbers in her head. We unload our meager bedding, spreading it out against the sand.

Cheerfully tired, we chat as we set up, talking teasingly about the luxuries of castle life.

"I won't lie," I say as I settle into my bed roll, "I do miss my bed."

"I miss having easy access to a bath," Zelda replies, wrinkling her nose as she rebraids her hair. Though it's hard to tell in the growing dark, her hair looks like it's a shade lighter from all the sand and days spent in the sunlight. The lighter streaks of chestnut are even more prominent now against the rest of her dark hair.

"And fresh meals."

"And bedding that isn't filled with sand."

We both share an amused look. She lies down on her roll, eyes trained on the star-speckled sky stretched above us. The lack of trees and obscurities make the sky seem even more massive than usual, and the stars gleam like the summer fireflies in Ordon.

"But it is all worth it for this view," Zelda whispers reverently to the sky. My eyes don't leave her face, watching how her eyes reflect the starlight and how the corners of her delicate lips quirk slightly upward.

"Yes, it is," I agree softly.

We both lapse into silence, and I turn away. You need to stop doing that, I curse myself. Or else you'll do something rash. Like kiss those delicate lips. Though, the notion is enticing. What is the penalty for kissing the queen? I suppose I wouldn't mind finding out.

But I can't assume she requits my love. The thought makes my heart ache with disappointment. She's impossible to read, so complexed and layered that I may never know where her emotions lay. But some foolish, boyish hope within me pleads the heavens that she loves me back.

I close my eyes as I recall the other night for the hundredth time, how she had held desperately onto me, like she was trying not to drown. I can practically feel her small form against mine, breaths shuddering against my chest as she tried to forget whatever nightmare had plagued her sleep. After she had drifted off, I had watched her sleeping face sadly, hurting for her. She has built and fortified walls against others with such vigor that it's impossible to penetrate, impossible to convince her that I can help her stay afloat.

My eyes blink back open in surprise as I feel a small hand slide into mine, and I peer over at Zelda. She's looking at our hands, refusing to meet my eyes.

"For safety," she whispers.

For safety against her own mind. Her mind that reminds mercilessly her of the dark things of the past as she sleeps. I squeeze her fingers back reassuringly. This I can manage. Whatever comfort she seeks, I will provide.

Chapter Text

My muscles ache when I sit up in the morning, the sun is already beginning its burning climb in the sky. As usual, Zelda has woken before me and prepared to leave. I rub away sleep from my eyes, feeling as though I could sleep another few hours even in the bright sunlight. Practically in a sleepwalking daze, I pack away my things and sit at Zelda's side to eat a quick meal.

"You look exhausted," Zelda points out softly, her eyebrow furrowed slightly in concern.

"Thanks," I reply dryly, and she just looks away. But there's still a slight crease in her brow, and I can see her thoughts churning beneath her pale eyes. She says nothing more.

With our stomachs filled, we set forward toward the trees in the distance. I can't help but pray for a natural spring or pool to fill our waterskins. We still have enough to last another week at least, but it would be comforting have more just in case. Zelda matches my pace as we walk, and I tell her about harvest in Ordon. She listens, intrigued, as I explain how the soil there provides ideal nutrients for pumpkins. I repeat the words Mayer Bo would always proudly say.

"Ain't a real pumpkin if it ain't from Ordon."

At that, she smiles gently, and it's nearly enough to make my legs stop in my tracks. She's smiling more often—well, as much as Queen Zelda "smiles", which is only a small lift of her lips. But it makes her eyes glow in the desert sunlight, and it never fails to throw me off guard.

It's a dangerous weapon, that smile.

We're making good time despite both of our tiredness. We arrive at the trees at late morning, only four of them huddled on the flat sand. But I can't help but slump in disappointment to see that there isn't a pool of water anywhere, just more flat sand. Zelda mirrors my mood as she looks around the trunks of the palms. But then she stops in thought, thrumming her fingers against her leg.

Then she drops onto her knees in the sand, and begins shoveling away handfuls of the fine stuff. "There has to be some source of water somewhere," she says simply, digging away. I watch her for a moment in confusion, then join her in pushing away the sand.

"Are you certain—?"

My hand scoops a layer of cool, damp sand, and Zelda looks up in excitement. We dig with new vigor now, flinging handfuls behind us until a small stream of water bubbles from the hole in the sand. It's cold as snow-melt, and blessedly clear as it flows from beneath the earth. Relieved, we fill our waterskins and drink greedily from it, each knowing it may be a long time before we have fresh water again.

After taking turns washing our faces and the grime from our hands, we snack on an early lunch in the shade of a palm tree.

"Do you enjoy your position as commander?" Zelda asks suddenly, watching me with an unreadable expression.

"Of course," I tell her honestly. The men on the Royal Guard are all enjoyable to be around, and it allows me the opportunity to protect Zelda better than any other way.

She looks away now, eyes studying the bright landscape. "There is not something you would rather do? Perhaps retire and settle down?"

"I haven't thought of it. I suppose I don't really want to settle down yet."

Zelda says nothing, still looking elsewhere.

"Why do you ask?" I watch her eyes for any sign of reason for her sudden questions.

For a long moment, she doesn't answer. "I do not want you to feel obligated to remain in your position. You have already given so much to Hyrule, to me. You deserve a peaceful, relaxed life now."

So do you, I want to say. But she and I both know that her title is not something she can simply retire from. She was born into it, and must fulfil it no matter what. I can't help but feel a twinge of sadness for her.

"I am happy," I assure her, but she still looks uncertain. "You haven't scared me off yet."

Her lips twitch with mirth, but she says nothing more.

If I could have my way, I realize suddenly, I would settle down with you.

But she has suitors and lords already chasing after her hand. What chance do I have?

She takes one last drink of her water, then stands to her feet. "I suppose we must keep trekking onward. There is no sign of Din's Spring here," she sighs.

I stand on my feet as well as she turns to lead the way out of the small oasis. I certainly hope we find some clue to the Spring as soon as possible. But my eyes wander the sky, and I see no sign of the golden owl. It seems it only appears when we are close to the key to opening the Spring.

My foot moves one step forward in the sand to follow Zelda, and I gasp in surprise. Waves of sharp pain pulse from the healed wound on my side, directly from where the dart had hit me at the castle. Zelda also stumbles, clutching her head in pain.

The pain is searing now, and I collapse to my knees in the sand, gasping for air. My head swims, and I blink against dizziness.

Zelda must have recovered, as I see her turn to face me crouched on the ground.

"What in Hylia's—Link?"

She sprints through the sand and drops to the ground in front of me. My hand grips the spot where my scar is through the fabric of my tunic, and I fight a wave of nausea. Zelda reaches out to steady me, and I hold onto her with my free arm.

"Link—it's your wound, isn't it? Oh, goddesses—"

I lift my head to meet her wide eyes. The warm sunlight makes them look practically violet. Her lips are parted in worry as she places her hand over mine on my abdomen. Our eyes meet in quiet realization.

"You can't change now," she whispers desperately.

Something inside me crumbles away as I watch her saddened expression.

Without thinking another thought more, I reach my hand to her face, grasp her chin between my fingers, and pull her forward to meet my lips.

The heat of the desert and even the pain pulsing in my stomach seem to fall away. The moment is fleeting, our lips pressed together for much too short of a time. But it's still enough to send my head spinning, not from the agony.

And there you go, Link, doing something rash, I think distantly.

But it is completely, wholly worth the feeling of delicate lips against mine.

Breaking the kiss, I lean my forehead against hers.

"Just in case I don't get the chance again," I explain to her gently.

Another wave of pain shudders through my body, waking me from my stupor. I move away from her, choking on a gasp as my consciousness teeters like a scale and I lose my strength.

Zelda takes a moment longer to break from her shock, but scrambles to catch me and eases me into her arms. She shakes her head ardently, almost as if she's scolding a child. I faintly feel her fingers graze my cheek before my awareness flees completely.

—-

ZELDA

The sun begins to hang low in the sky. Worry eats away at my stomach every time I glance at Link's unconscious form, no longer Hylian. Just as we had been leaving the oasis, a surge of magic had overcome me, so strong that it shot like knives through my head. I had turned to ask Link if he had felt it—

And now he's transformed in wolf form again, and not waking. I carried him as best I could to the shade of one of the palm trees, checking his pulse every so often. His heart is still thrumming steadily beneath his fur and skin, so that allows me some peace. My eyes lift to check the sun's position in the sky once more. Time is draining like the desert sand through a sieve.

Trying to calm myself, I lean my head back against the trunk of the palm and close my eyes. Somewhere beyond the panic and worry swimming in my head is shock. Hope.

He kissed me.

In the most inconveniently timed, unexpected way—that insufferable man. But still, elation bubbles beneath my immediate anxiety. But now I am all the more eager to find the final Spring and cure both of us, to return him to his true form.

The sun is sitting on the sandy horizon now, bathing the world in golden light. The temperature will begin dropping soon. So I begin unloading our packs, preparing to camp out for the night.

I have no idea where the Spring is in this endless desert. It may take us weeks longer just to find it, but we don't have that time to spare. Hyrule needs her queen, ready and able to rule it with solid footing. A queen doesn't wander and explore the lands, leaving the throne vacant and the capital of the kingdom vulnerable. But I trust my council to handle affairs in the four weeks I am gone, knowing they are able people. However, extending beyond that timeframe will raise worry. Lord Velar himself promised to send the entire royal army for me if I was still gone by the time my weeks ran out.

Please, I plead the gods. Wake Link. Help us find the Din's Spring. My kingdom needs me.

-o0o-

The stars have just begun to glow in the sky when Link finally stirs. I drop my bed roll and rush to his side, watching as he groggily sits up. I check his eyes, his pulse. All is normal and well, as far as I can tell. He blinks once, then glances down at his body. He looks visibly defeated when his fear is confirmed.

"You are an wretched man," I tell him suddenly, and he looks up at me in surprised confusion. I frown at him as I explain. "Kissing me, only to fall unconscious and transform the next second without allowing me to respond."

Link cocks his head, then shudders as if he's snickering. My lips twitch upward, and I try to ignore the heat growing on my face.

But that certainly doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it while it lasted.

Neither of us sleep well that night. Link seems to struggle to readjust to his body once again, and my worrying brain won't allow me rest. The air is chilly enough that I slowly gravitate closer to Link, until he's curled up at my side. I try to focus on his warmth and steady breaths, unsuccessfully attempting to clear my mind.

As soon as dawn begins, we set pack up and continue our walk westward. Where else is there to go?

I can't help but feel a strange nag of loneliness without Link able to converse with me. I had grown so used to the sound of his voice and chuckle, and turning to see his lopsided smile when he teased me. I glance back at him every once and a while still, half expecting to see a tall, blond figure with gleaming blue eyes. But a tired wolf walks in his place, head hanging in exhaustion and frustration. A pang of worry always stabs me to see his fatigue. We may have less time than I had hoped.

Two more days pass uneventfully. We stumble on through the dry heat of the desert, silent and drained. At the close of each day, we collapse onto my bed roll and try to sleep the best one can on sand. I find myself filling the day with quiet talking, to which Link listens closely to. I tell him more about my mother, and how she told me stories of the Gerudo race that once lived in this desert. She had even taught me their language, to which my father would always scoff.

"Why learn the words of a dead race?" He would say. My mother would give him a disarming smile that never quite reached her eyes, telling him, "their spirits live on through us and our knowledge."

Supposedly, one of my ancestors, the one that has visited me in the form of the golden owl, had been close to one of the tribe's leaders during the time of the Gerudo-Hylian War. The leader disagreed with Ganondorf and his bloodthirsty antics, and tried unsuccessfully to lead the women from the war. It seemed she was the only one that wasn't mindlessly loyal to him like the others were.

Eventually, I lapse into uneasy silence. The pressure of time weighs on my mind, and I can't seem to focus on anything else. There no signs of the Spring, no golden owls to teach me anicent songs.

The pain of hopelessness is all too familiar.

It's early the next morning when I spot a smidge of something on the horizon, and my heart lifts in hope.

"Do you see that?" I ask Link, pointing to the speck. He narrows his eyes, then nods once in confirmation. He turns and meets my eyes, his own showing a battle of similar hope and doubt. "It looks like we have found our next destination."

So we set off, adjust our angle to point toward the lone object sitting on the distant sand. We both walk a little quicker, moods improved. I can't help but pray that it is at least a clue to the Spring, and that we are close to finding it.

But as the day drags on, the air begins to change. It is just as hot and unbearable as always, but there's a growing tension that puts my hair on end. It builds and builds through the day, until I feel as though it's a tangible force that I could slice through with my dagger. I turn to Link, and his expression mirrors my own internal confusion.

The wind begins to pick up. The tension in the air feels like it's moving and shifting, stirring like a butter churner. Little specks of sand skit across each other, making it look as though the ground covered in busy ants. Behind me, Link lets out a soft noise of concern.

No, I plead silently.

We continue marching forward, now driven by fear of the wind that becomes quicker by each passing minute.

It's too early for sandstorms, I shout internally at nothing.

Too early.

Soon the dust lifts into the air, clouding the blue sky with filth. I cough it out of my lungs, and pause quick enough to pull a shawl out of my pack and wrap it around my nose and mouth. The weather worsens, and the day darkens despite the high sun. Sand is being picked up by the wind now and is tossed about, pelting sharply against the bare skin of my face and hands.

All I can hear is howling of wind and the snapping of fabric, and my eyes burn from the filthy air. The speck on the horizon soon disappears from all the spinning sand and dust, and I retrieve my compass in a panic. Faintly, I feel Link tugging on my boots to stop.

"We can't!" I shout over the storm, but the wind carries my voice away. I glance at him over my shoulder, and I can barely see him through the cloud of brown. If we stop and camp now, we'll be buried in sand by morning. We suffocate, drowning with our lungs filled with soil.

No. We cannot stop now.

I have to lean against the wind to keep from being pushed off my feet. I hug my arms around myself and tuck my bare hands out of reach of the spinning sand, and continue trekking through the storm. I feel like I'm going nowhere, that I'm simply walking in place and covering no ground. Everything looks the same.

Link tugs on my boot again, and I shake my head roughly even though he can't see me.

"We have to be getting close," I say to no one, and my own voice doesn't reach my ears.

But then something makes my skin prickle, like there are eyes on me. It doesn't make sense, out here in the heart of the Gerudo Desert, in the midst of a raging sandstorm. Who else could possibly be mad enough to be out here?

But what had Link said to me when at Lake Hylia? He had told me that my instincts must mean something. While training with him at the castle to better my sword fighting, he would always remind me, "trust your instincts. They will lead you better than any man's word could."

So that's why I'm almost not surprised when I feel a sharp blade press against my throat through the fabric of my shawl.

I stop dead in my tracks, and feel Link collide into the backs of my knees. Through the turmoil of the sandstorm, I can vaguely make out the shape of four figures, each with a spear pointed at my neck. Upon seeing Link, two of them point them at him, and I can barely hear his growl float to my ears.

One of the figures shouts something I can't quite make out, and they inch closer to Link. In a panic, I step in front of him to shield his body.

"No!" I shout as loud as I possibly can over the wind. "He is not what he seems! You would be a fool to harm him."

They stop their pursuit, but don't remove the blade of their spears. My hand slowly inches to the dagger at my thigh. It's poor odds against four spears, but it's something. One of them shouts something over the storm in a language that isn't Hylian. But before I can decipher it, something slams down on the back of my head, and I know nothing more.

-o0o-

Images flit through my mind, too quick and indistinct to grasp. I see colors flit around my vision, my fingers brush against a slab of stone, different sounds war to find their place in my mind.

Va'qoa se vai jaatki sa'vol?

My eyes open to see a dim sandstone ceiling. As soon as I wake, I feel a throbbing pain in the base of my skull. My wound on my arm also claws for my attention, and it feels as though the flesh surrounding it is crawling. I must have fallen on it, I realize groggily. With my good arm, I push myself into a sitting position. Just as quickly, I nearly fall back onto the hard surface I am on from the rush of searing vertigo.

I blink away the spots in my eyes, looking about my surroundings. The dark room I am in made up of solid sandstone, with only a single narrow window up near the ceiling, far out of my reach. There's a wood door across the small room, and I crawl to it. One test confirms that it is, in fact, locked as I had feared.

A rush of panic bolts through me. I'm being held captive.

I spin around—much too quickly for my pounding head—upon hearing a shuffle behind me. Link slowly lifts his head, his eyes hooded and unfocused. His ears twitch slightly at the sound of my breaths. Seeing him gives me some comfort; I had been afraid that our captors would kill him, thinking he is simply a domesticated wolf and nothing more.

"Link," I whisper dumbly, coming to his side. He watches me in a daze, and I check his pulse. A small, frail heartbeat thrums against my fingers. "We need to get out of here."

He releases a small huff of air, and his head sags in exhaustion. I settle with my back against the wall, and allow him to rest his chin on my leg. Within a few seconds, his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.

Link's rest doesn't last well, however. The wood door clicks, and I hop to my feet, startling Link awake. Soon after, the door swings open, permitting an intimidating woman to enter the room. The door closes behind her, but I do not hear it lock again.

"Good morning," she says, her accent cloaked with a heavy accent I do not recognize. She's tall and lean, wearing loose pants and only a small wrap of fabric around her chest, leaving her bronze stomach and arms exposed. The bottom half of her face is concealed behind a veil, but her amber gaze pierces mine below a knot of flaming red hair. Her posture demands respect as she slams the butt of her spear against the sandstone ground.

I say nothing, simply watching her with a wary eye. Mentally, I call to my magic.

I try to stifle my dismay when it does not respond.

"It has been a long time since a Hylian has been this far in the desert," she says, ignoring my silence. "You should be grateful. Our law says that we kill your kind on sight."

Still, I hold my silence, even as I come to a shocking realization.

She is Gerudo.

Chapter Text

I suppress the startled feeling sparked in my bones as I stare at the intimidating woman before me.

Gerudo.

But that's impossible—they were killed off in the war centuries ago. Their few descendants to survive are sparse to say the least, and their blood is more Hylian than it is Gerudo.

"But you aren't just any Hylian, are you?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Link struggle to pull himself to a standing position. He places himself between the Gerudo and me, his eyes filled with contempt despite his fatigue. The woman just chuckles with amusement.

"Why did I spare you, little vai?"

I ignore her question.

She leans her back against the wall now, acting as though we're having a friendly, relaxed conversation. "We were going to kill you. You and your mutt here. But you said something that grabbed my interest about him, so I hesitated. Then when we knocked unconscious, your hand glowed and repelled the first of my girls to grab you."

My girls? She must be of some rank.

"So, do explain to me what you meant. How is your friend here 'not what he seems'?" She nods her head down at Link, who looks as though he's fighting with every last bit of his energy to stay upright.

When I still refuse to respond, she rolls her eyes. In a flash of movement, she knocks Link to the ground, pressing the end of her spear against his throat, and I yelp in surprise.

"He is not a wolf—not truly," I blurt, and she glances back up at me in interest. "He has been cursed and weakened severely, as have I." Inside, I hope to convince her to underestimate me, to believe I am wholly defenseless. That way if I come to battle her, I will have the advantage of underestimation on my side.

"Cursed? By whom?"

"A rogue bearer of a dark magic," I say vaguely.

"And why does this bring you into the heart of the desert?" She presses her spear harder against Link's throat, and I hear his breath hitch.

"We are in search of a Spring," I tell her honestly. "Din's Spring. Only then will we be cleansed of this curse and returned to our true abilities."

She seems to be satisfied with my answer, and moves away from Link, leaning back against the wall as though nothing happened. Link doesn't move from the ground, and I refrain from dropping to his side.

"Din's Spring, hm? A common place of worship for my people." She says it with a quirk of her brow, as though she expects me to fall on my knees and beg for directions. But I do not, and simply meet her critical stare with my signature mask of emotionlessness.

"Who are you?"

The Gerudo straightens her shoulders, her eyes gleaming with fierce pride. "I am Kaavu, descendant of the great Nabooru, and chief of the surviving Gerudo."

"How have your people survived? You were said to be wiped out in the war long ago."

Kaavu scoffs. "Of course you Hylians would be fed such lies. Only a few of our ancestors survived, the few that were not under Ganondorf's spell." She spits his name with such vehemence that I nearly blink in surprise. Wasn't he their leader, their king? Why does she regard him with such contempt?

"His spell?"

"Many of the Gerudo were cast under some spell that drove them to do his bidding. They threw themselves into battle against your people in Ganondorf's, only for Hyrule to kill them all. Such a manipulative man does not deserve to carry our name."

Strangely, it doesn't surprise me that Ganondorf would commit such a heartless crime of manipulating his own kind.

"It may bring you great comfort to know that Ganondorf is dead," I say coolly. Her scarlet eyebrows hike up on her forehead, and even with her face covered I feel the shock radiating from her.

"Who—how? He had been sealed by the queen of Hyrule hundreds of years ago."

"He was to be executed, but he escaped and made another attempt to conquer Hyrule," I tell her, a spark of hope rising in my chest. "But his fruitions failed, and he was defeated."

The Gerudo woman's eyes crinkle with a satisfied smile. "His death will be celebrated among us survivors. My only wish is that we could have been the ones to claim such a victory. How appropriate for the 'King' of the Gerudo to be killed by his own?"

"He made no acknowledgement of you survivors," I tell her, and she raises a single brow.

"You spoke with him?"

Bitterness and dark memories threaten to creep into my mind. I allow some of my disgust to show on my face. "He imprisoned me—tortured me."

At that, Link's eyes dart to my face, and he looks at me in a mixture of surprise and sorrow. But I ignore him, keeping my own gaze trained on the woman before me and she shakes her head in clear contempt.

"But it did not last. This wolf you see before you," I hold my hand out to gesture to Link, "is the Hylian that vanquished Ganondorf with his own hand."

Kaavu eyes fall to the unconvincing heap that is Link on the ground. Awe, skepticism, and gratitude flit through her eyes in a wild storm. "What proof do you have? Who's to say you aren't simply trying to lie your way free?"

Carefully, I crouch by Link, touching his face in comfort for a fleeting moment before placing my right hand over his left paw. I close my eyes and concentrate, willing the Triforce to show itself. Vaguely, I can feel its power humming within me, but it still struggles to manifest. But I push at the magic, concentrating it to the back of my hand.

The glow is dim at first, but it brightens just enough to clearly see the three triangles with the left brightest on the back of my hand. I move it aside to show Link's paw also glowing, his with the right triangle illuminated the most.

The Gerudo gasps, her eyes widening in disbelief. She places a hand to her chest as though trying to contain her emotions as she whispers, "the Triforce."

I may be a complete fool to show our pieces of the gods' power to a leader of a band of female thieves, but I am desperate. Link and I must find that final Spring. If proving us as Ganondorf's killers will convince this woman to release us, it will be well worth it.

"He lusted after that power," Kaavu says solemnly. "It was his undoing."

Her words soothe my nerves, if only a little bit. She seems to understand the consequences of pursuing such power. Time has shown the fate of those who fight selfishly for the Triforce, and how it brings the kingdom and the holders to ruin.

But that never seems to stop people from trying, regardless.

"If you are the Bearers," the Gerudo glances between us, "then you have my faith and respect. If you are that cursed man's condemners, you have my loyalty."

I bow my head in confirmation as I stand back to my feet. Link also pushes himself upright, though he sways. Without a word more, Kaavu raps her knuckles against the wood door, keeping her amber gaze on me. The door swings open, and she exchanges words with a guard outside in Gerudo. It takes me a moment to process the words, but I am surprised to understand what they say.

"These are not prisoners," Kaavu tells the guard. "They are guests."

"Guests—? What in Din's name changed your mi—"

"Jerian."

"Yes, chief."

The door swings wider, allowing a flood of desert heat and light to flood the stale room. The guard, Jerian, enters, donned in similar attire to her chief. She looks between us uncertainly. But Kaavu gestures for me to follow, and I lean down next to Link. He watches me with glazed eyes, and my stomach quivers at the sight.

"Are you well enough to walk?"

He doesn't have the chance to answer, as Jerian leans and scoops him up as though he weighs nothing more than a blanket. He grumbles indignantly, but doesn't move to fight back. I follow Jerian out, keep an observant eye as we travel through the sandstone corridor. Small windows dot the tops of the ceiling, likely made for air circulation rather than decoration. The walls and supports of the building look ancient, and as though they'll crumble under their own weight within moments. It's no wonder they use it for prisoners.

We pass several other hallways and doors, until we leave the building all together to reenter the blazing morning heat of the desert. Kaavu leads us around tents and other Gerudo dressed in undyed clothing. Unlike the chief and the guard, many of the Gerudo out here do not cover their faces. Their cheeks are all sullen and pale beneath their sun-tanned skin, and their clothing looks as though it's been patched over several times.

There are few children, and even they look sickly and unfed. The sight makes my heart ache with sympathy. They may have survived the war long ago, I think soberly, but they are dying out now.

There's a slight haze in the air, likely the aftermath of the sandstorm. Women bat away the piles of dust sagging on their tents, and many cough at the air. My own lungs itch with the need to cough as well. As we walk by, the Gerudo each turn and stare openly at our small procession. How many of these women have ever seen a Hylian? Probably none of them. They likely only interact with the humans south, and even that connection would be strained from the distance.

We approach a large tent that smells of camel fur, and enter after Kaavu nods at the guard stationed at the entrance, who gives us an uncertain look from beneath her veil. We enter, and inside awaits an empty tent with only a few mats and a strange orb of glowing light at the center, casting neon light on the surroundings. Kazuu gestures for us to sit on the mat with her, and I oblige with some hesitation.

"The storm has settled, but it will still be awhile before the dust clears completely," the chief tells us. "After that, I will escort you to the Spring of Power."

I blink in surprise. "Chief, the notion flatters me, but you do not have to leave your people for our sakes."

"Just call me Kaavu," she waves, nonchalantly. "And my girls are strong. They can survive without their chief for a day. Besides, it's a common expedition among we Gerudo to travel to the temple it awaits in."

"Temple?" I echo.

"We don't actually visit the Spring," she responds. "It is said to be sealed somewhere within the temple of the Goddess of Sand. But the writings say it awaits there."

"I see." Surely my ancestor will arrive to teach me the final song to open the temple. "Very well. But I wish to repay you for your deeds."

"Do not hassle yourself. Besides, what can a little Hylian vai do for we Gerudo?"

"A great amount," I tell her slowly. "You said you are the descendant of Nabooru, correct?"

A bit of pride makes her bright eyes glow even more, and she sits up a little straighter. "Yes. The great Nabooru herself led the survivors into the desert away from the Hylians and Ganondorf. She alone saved our blood."

"History says that Nabooru of an ancestor of my own were very close."

"Ancestor?" Kaavu repeats in surprise, clearly searching her memory for someone who had close ties with Nabooru and was Hylian. I can see the exact moment when realization hits her. "My mother told of a Hylian queen that was a sworn spirit sister to Nabooru."

"Yes," I incline my head. My mother had told me a similar story. That is why the Gerudo's culture intrigues me so, I can recall her telling me. Our bloodline of daughters are Gerudo in spirit, just as your ancestor was a spirit sister to Nabooru.

"That could only mean—" The Gerudo chief looks over me once in awe, clearly at a loss for words. "Never in my life would I have expected to meet Hylian royalty."

"Allow me to introduce myself," I offer. "I am Queen Zelda Harkinian of Hyrule. It is pleasure to discover my the descendant of my ancestor's spirit sister."

Kaavu blinks a couple times, attempting to process the information. "Well you certainly do have the power to do quite a bit for me in repayment. You are brave, admitting your identity to me. I can imagine your kingdom would pay a pretty coin for your sake," she raises an eyebrow. I am unsurprised she makes the poorly veiled threat, but I pay it no heed. I know enough about Gerudo history to know that sworn sisters are not taken lightly.

"Sworn as sisters not in blood, but in spirit," I say in Gerudo, and Kaavu looks mildly impressed as I recite the sacred saying. We both know that she could never betray me, for it would mean dishonoring her mothers.

"Your people are dying," I say solemnly, and she says nothing. But I don't miss the flicker of worry in her eyes. "Allow me to repay you by rebuilding an alliance between the Gerudo and the rest of Hyrule. After all," I meet her eyes, "you are Hyruleans, born and raised on Din's soil."

She is quiet for a moment as she considers my words. "How can we be certain your people won't show animosity toward us? The last time we Gerudo were seen, it was not on good terms."

"In return for supplying the Gerudo supplies and food, as well as rebuilding your capital, your people will supply a trade to Hyrule. What can you offer?" I ask her.

Kaavu's eyes gleam with pride for her people as she tells me, "We have discovered a way to harvest elemental properties in gems." She lifts her hand to her ears, where she removes a small sapphire stud from her ear. She extends her hand for me to take it. I glance at her questioningly, and she gesture for me to try it on. As I do, I startled to feel tendrils of cold snake from my ear, settling in my limbs and staving the heat of the desert. Kaavu's eyes crinkle in what must be a smile beneath her veil.

"It is quite incredible, if I say so myself. The same has been found for ruby, opals, and many other valuable gems. Each has its own unique property."

"Brilliant," I tell her honestly as I hand back her earring. "Such could be very valuable within Hyrule." But is jewelry enough to convince my kingdom of an alliance?

As if reading my thoughts, Kaavu speaks up once more. "We also have discovered a way to harvest electricity. The desert is full of electrical creatures and properties, and we have used that to our advantage." She gestures a hand at the glowing orb in the center of the tent. "It can be used to power a number of things, if properly used."

I nod, intrigued as I study the orb. "That could prove to be quite useful indeed."

"The Gerudo have much to offer," she tells me. "But it is true that the very desert we have been born in is killing us slowly."

My mind recalls images of the women with sunken cheeks from lack of food, and the dry coughing from the constant dust. This alliance alone could save their kind.

"Hyrule is a diverse land," I assure her. "I have no doubt that my people would be willing to accept your people with time."

"We also have no men, which makes it difficult to carry on our blood. The few children that are born do not survive in such harsh conditions." There's a heavy emotion in her eyes, and suddenly she looks much older. It's the look of a mother who has lost her child.

My heart swells in sympathy. I have yet to have children, but I often fear when the time comes. My ancestors each struggled with fertility, often bearing only one child and suffering many miscarriages. It was nothing short of a miracle that I was even born, considering my mother's many miscarriages. I know it very likely will be my own future, to lose children. The thought makes my heart sink.

"We Gerudo are stubborn about our no men policy, so that will not change," her eyes glow with mirth once again. "But I am certain we are all starved for attention from the opposite sex." Though she says as much in a joking manner, I know the weight of the truth.

"As soon as Link here and I are returned to our proper selves, I will return to my kingdom and set about creating an official alliance at once." I vow seriously, and there a look of immeasurable relief in her posture.

"I greatly look forward to it. Though, I am sorry to say that your friend here won't be as welcome in our town once he is in the form of a man," she says. Link lifts his head to her from his spot on the mat, looking unamused.

"Now," she says with finality as she clasps her hands, "let us eat. We have medicines that will rejuvenate the poor mutt here."

Link growls from underneath his breath despite his fatigue, and I stifle a grin.

After eating and resting for some time, Kaavu permits me to wander the town—if it can even be considered as much—within reason. Some of the bolder Gerudo approach me, asking me questions about life in central Hyrule. Many give a look of longing when they ask me about the trees and green grasses.

Mentally, I vow to never complain about the seasonal fluctuations in again if it means living among the trees and plants.

One girl that looks only slightly younger than me asks me about the men. She flushes prettily when I tell her than many of the men would likely find her beautiful and seek her courtship. Upon hearing as much, Kaavu snorts from where she is tending to one of the sick Gerudo.

"Men are filthy swines," she warns the young girl, and I recall the memory of saying a similar thing at an inn. It seems like such a long time ago now, that evening. I had fallen asleep speaking to Link about our next course of action, only to wake and find myself settled into my bed with a blanket pulled over my shoulders.

Not all men are pigs, I remind myself, recalling when Link held me after waking from night terrors. He had stroked my hair and wrapped me up protectively, allowing me to sleep in his arms.

And he had kissed me in the desert sun. The memories brings color to my ears. The blush doesn't escape the young girl's eye, and she smirks at me.

"You have a man," she says excitedly. Some of the women glance over their shoulders from their work, openly curious. The flush deepens, and I'm suddenly very glad Link is asleep in a tent and not here to witness this.

"Not precisely," I defend, but the young woman looks unconvinced.

"Is he handsome? I've always thought a man with dark hair and eyes would be very attractive."

"You've never even seen a live man before, Yara," one of the women interjects, but the girl just ignores her.

"What color are his eyes?" Yara asks eagerly, and I grimace internally. "Is he muscular? And tall—"

"Yara," Kaavu laughs. "Be kind to our poor guest."

The woman smiles sheepishly, and I offer a gentle smile in forgiveness. The chief rolls her eyes, but they hold a fondness for Yara. She seems like more of a mother to them than a chief, despite her seeming to only be about my own age. I can't help but understand her protective pride in her people.

Link and I are allowed the tent to stay the night in, but I don't sleep well. Time is ticking away, and we are running out of days. How long will it take us to return to Hyrule? We ought to plan for unexpected delays on the way home. I can only hope that things will run smoothly from here on out.

But something in my stomach tells me to be wary.

Eventually, sleep finds me. My rest is blessedly dreamless.

Chapter Text

Kaavu insists on fitting me with better boots for the trek through the desert. The boots are made of coarse camel fur to withstand the sand, as well as supply better traction. As soon as we begin walking through the desert, I notice the improvement.

Link is much more lively today as well. His eyes are no longer glazed over, and strength has returned to his posture. It seems fresh food and rest has done him well—as well as the rejuvenating medicine the Gerudo kindly supplied.

We head north from the village before the sun has risen over the land, and I watch as my breath creates small clouds in the chilled air. Within the hour, however, it will be blistering hot and I will be wishing for the cold.

Kaavu chats cheerfully as we walk, telling more about Nabooru's deeds and the legacy she created. The chief has finally unhooked her veil from her face, leaving it exposed as she speaks. She looks as young as I suspected, looking only a couple years my senior. There's a small tattoo on her throat—a painful spot, I can imagine—in the shape of a small circle separated in two by a curved line.

"The symbol of spirit," she said simply when I had asked.

Something about the symbol seems familiar, like an old friend from a dream that I cannot quite recall or grasp. Either way, my eyes keep returning to it as I try to place where I have seen it before.

It is midday when we near the temple, a massive stone monument erected from the sand. The figure carved atop it looks vaguely feminine, though time has not treated it well and has rendered the statue almost completely featureless.

The temple towers over us, casting a massive shadow over our figures as we near the entrance. Kaavu leads us inside, and I am hit the smell of stale dust and incense. We follow her up a short staircase and past serpent statues that are also barely distinguishable. Upon approaching a large archway, Kaavu stops and steps to face us.

"This is as far as I will lead you," she tells us. "Please, enter the Goddess of Sand's shrine, and find the Spring you seek. Best of luck." We exchange a nod as Link and I enter the corridor, following it until it leads us to a grand chamber with another statue of a woman towering over us in a seated position. Gerudo writing covers the walls, much of it illegible from the crumbling sandstone. But as I eyes skim the glyphs, I do catch the words "Spring" and "Din" on several occasions.

I wander the room cautiously, studying every inch of sandstone I can see. There are staircases above the entrance, but their bases have long since crumbled away and are inaccessible. I keep returning to the statue, studying the expert carving and detail in the depiction of the Goddess of Sand.

Then I notice a small seam at her feet in the stone, minute and hardly visible, but most definitely there. I run my fingers over the seam, and I see Link sniff around at the wall curiously. I press against it, look for purchase or a lever in the sandstone, but find nothing. Link meets my eyes, and he tilts his head in equal uncertainty.

We both turn in surprise at a flash of color above us. There sits the golden owl, perched on one of the broken stairs with wise eyes. She shakes her feathers once, then blinks at me patiently.

A flicker of hope and anticipation sparks through my body, as she is a sign that we are very close to the Spring, and very close to returning Link to his proper form.

I check to ensure the harp is secured at my hip, a sign to tell her: I am ready. Wasting no more time, she leaps from the stairs and swoops toward me, and the temple walls fall away.

"You have impressed me, daughter."

I blink at the sudden bright surroundings, watching as the familiar skeletal woman turns to observe me with piercing, glowing eyes. This time, there's something different about her. Her bones almost seem as though they're shimmering, like her form is barely staying in the realm.

Wordlessly, I retrieve my harp, anxious to open the Spring. But the ancient queen does not move, and simply stares at me.

"Be wary; your trials have not run out."

"Link and I have made it this far. I have no doubt we can handle whatever comes our way."

At that, she turns away. The back of her cloak has a faint Sheikah symbol emblazoned on the fabric, and it stares at me with a single tear. It brings back memories of my father, and of his determination to amend ties with the elusive clan—or at least what was left of it.

It also threatens to surface old, agonizing memories that I refuse to acknowledge.

"Listen to this requiem," she says quietly, with a subdued tone, "for it shall open the way to Din's Spring." Her cloak shifts as she retrieves her harp, and plucks a ominous song. The finishes it on a resoluting note, as if telling a happy ending to a solemn story. It gives me hope as I repeat the requiem back to her until I perfect it and commit it to memory.

"My time in this realm comes to a close. My sorrows and regrets have been placated."

But she remains where she is, unmoving with her back to me. Her posture shudders slightly as she thinks. But then, recovering, she throws her shoulders back and lifts her head, and turns to me.

I replace my harp on my hip, waiting in silence for her to say something.

"Zelda," she says gently and steps closer. Her footfalls make no sound, and it seems as though she floats closer on the fog. She lifts her skeletal hand to my face. I almost reel in surprise when I don't feel bare bone against my cheek, but rather warm flesh. I watch in awe as fabric and skin seems to knit together, traveling up her arm until her dress seems newer, cleaner. The restoration travels to her face, and skin forms itself over her bare skull.

I can only watch in shocked silence as a woman with fair skin and pink lips stares back at me with startling deep blue eyes, her face framed in soft strawberry-blonde waves. The shape of her eyes and nose are startling familiar—they're the ones I see in my reflection on a daily basis.

My ancestor, I think numbly. The Queen Zelda that sealed Ganondorf away.

"Blood of my own," her lips move to the words, and her voice sounds less wispy, more alive. There's a firm and authoritative tone to her voice that proves of the status she once held. She moves her other palm against my face, looking at me with a motherly gaze.

"Let wisdom guide you, and remain fierce. You are stronger than you know." There's a weight in her eyes, a haunted look that shakes me.

"And do not let him slip through your fingers. Do not make the mistake I did."

I burrow my eyebrow slightly, trying to untangle her words. "Link?"

She gives a sad smile in confirmation.

"You love him," she states softly.

My heart stumbles over several beats.

I do, my mind chants. I love him more than anything.

When I say nothing, she gives me a knowing smile. "Hold onto him. You deserve that joy."

"You loved your hero too," I observe the sorrow in her eyes. She bows her head solemnly.

"I should have fought harder for him. But to the world, he was a nobody with no title or fame. Unworthy to marry the queen of Hyrule." She releases a pained breath. "He was my light, and I let him slip away."

That certainly explains why she no longer wears her marriage ring after these years. Was it too much of a reminder that she spent her life with a man she didn't want?

Queen Zelda lifts her head and meets my eyes once again, now with a resolute gleam set on her fair features. "Do not repeat my mistakes."

With that, she releases my face, and her skin seems to fade from her bones again, and her clothes fade into the worn and weathered fabrics from before. The royal circlet on her head loses its polished shine.

"No go, my daughter." She clasps her hands together. "Finish what needs to be done."

"Thank you for everything," I bow solemnly with my hand over my heart. My surroundings begin to fade from my sight, the foggy expanse becoming unfocused.

Faintly I hear the queen's gentle words as she whispers,

"Now I can reunite with him again."

My eyes fly open, and I see Link turn his head curiously above me. He steps back as I sit upright, rubbing the haze from my temples.

I love him.

The thought echoes in my head unbidden.

A realization dawns on me. I've loved him for a long time. I love the way he smirks when in our duals, his wild eyes. I love his fierce loyalty, and his thoughtful words. I love the way he narrows his eyes in thought, his lopsided smiles and warm personality.

Yes, I think to myself. I've loved him for much longer than I realized.

Do not let him slip away, my ancestor had said. What had her life been like, marrying the man she did not love while her heart sought a man with no name or title?

My eyes find his, so familiar and intelligent even in wolf form. I will my ears to refrain from turning pink as I open my mouth to speak.

"Link. You will get another chance to kiss me. I will make sure of it."

And more, I add mentally, heart swelling with hope.

He blinks in surprise at my sudden declaration, and then shudders with what must be a laugh. I can't help the smile that grows on my face as well, and press my fingers to my lips.

Eager to find the enter the final Spring, I stand on my feet and face the hidden door at the statue's feet. Removing my harp, I recall the requiem the ghost had taught me, and play the notes confidently.

When the song finishes, nothing happens. But then I feel the back of my hand glow and hum with power, and I lift it in surprise. As I do so, a small glyph on the door glows in response to the proximity of my hand. I press my palm against the marking, pushing the magic from my hand into the wall. The entire door hums with power, until it fades from sight and opens to a wide stairwell that leads downwards.

With determination set in my step, I follow the stairs deeper into the ground with Link at my side. We reach a flat corridor, and several sconces flare to life. At the end of the hall is another door with ancient engravings across its face.

Link stops cold in his tracks, and I turn to face him. The fur on his back is risen, and he is wound as tight as a cobra.

"What is it?" I whisper.

He spins around to face the stairwell we just descended down, and I follow his gaze up the steps. There's faint hum of power that seems to extrude from the walls, and it tenses the air as we wait.

There are small footsteps echoing down the stairs.

"Kaavu?" I call, but receive no answer. My hand reaches for the bow around my torso, and I load an arrow as the footsteps grow closer.

But as soon as the person steps into the light of the corridor, I lower my bow in open bafflement. Link too straightens out his defensive posture, watching on in confusion.

"Impaz? How in Hylia's name are you here?"

I watch the ancient woman hobble down the last of the steps, and she looks up at us. I nearly flinch back at the dark look boiling in her red eyes.

"You two have served well," she says in her weathered voice. "I must admit I'm impressed."

My hand tightens slightly on my bow again as I look at her with a furrow in my brow.

She laughs, a dry sounds that raises my skin. "Oh, you two are really too priceless. Impaz died over a year ago. Not that you ignorant Hylians would care to notice."

Link turns his head as he watches Impaz.

"I do not understand," I say testily. The brooding expression on her face sets off every alarm in my mind.

"She made a fine disguise, however. Truly, Zelda, you have always been too quick to trust people."

Without another word, Impaz's figure fades into a dark outline of what she was. The shadow transforms and morphs, growing taller and taking the form of someone else.

I gasp as her features come into focus, dropping my bow to the ground and pressing my hand to my mouth.

How—? It's impossible, every logical part of me shouts. She died. She's been dead for over fifteen years.

I haven't seen her since we were mere children, but I would never forget her long, silvery hair and ruby eyes, the delicate jaw and sharp brows. The sight of her resurfaces all those old memories that I always push away every time I see the Sheikah symbol, every time I pass the western wing of my castle.

"Haika?" I choke, and Link turns at me in surprise. The defensive stance has settled back in his shoulders, and he glances between us, undoubtedly noticing the resemblance between us.

Haika. My sister.

"It's been a long time," she says without any trace of sincerity. Her sharp features show open contempt that I recognize all too well from our childhood. I'm surprised to feel tears welling in my eyes.

"How?" I whisper, wanting to reach out to her. "You died. The plague—you fell ill—"

"Oh, is that what your mother told you?" She rolls her eyes. "Yes, the epidemic was the perfect way to fake my death. Any way to rid of me."

"I don't understand," I shake my head, feeling like I'm in a dream.

My sister was only five years my senior. She was an illegitimate heir to the throne, as she was the child as a result of an affair between my father and one of the Sheikah delegates from Old Kakariko. When we were very young, we were close and spent our time running through the castle and pranking the castle staff and climbing the trees in the gardens. But as we grew older and my training as the heir began, she grew to hate me.

"It's unfair!" I had overheard her shouting at our father one morning. "I am older. I am the heir to Hyrule!"

My mother ignored her existence. She was a reminder of my father's disloyalty and of their loveless marriage. She feared Haika's natural shadow magic, telling me it was evil and angered the gods.

But when the plague ravaged Hyrule, Haiku had fallen ill after spending the day in castletown with father. They confined her to the west wing of the castle, forbidding me to enter in case I contracted the deadly sickness. Anytime I passed that hallway, it smelled like death to me. She died after one week.

At least, that is what I was told.

"I have lived all this time thinking you were dead," I say now, suddenly furious. My mother, who was my role model—my everything, had lied to me. And Haiku did nothing to prove otherwise, stripping me my only sibling.

"Father knew the truth," she says darkly. "That is why he tried so hard to reestablish an alliance with the Sheikah. He had hoped the kingdom wouldn't fear me as much if as much was achieved."

"And they killed him for it," I finish. She doesn't even flinch, and just stares at me coolly. Something clicks into place as I say the words, as she stares at me with no signs of mourning for our father, for my mother.

"You killed them," I realize in horror, something untame and raging rising in my throat.

"It doesn't matter now."

"'Doesn't matter'—?"

"No," she growls. "I had to empty the throne."

"Why have you shown yourself now after all these years? What are you after?"

I glance at my bow on the ground, wishing I hadn't dropped it carelessly. How can I retrieve it without her springing into action? Judging by the bitter hatred churning in her eyes, she wouldn't hesitate to find some excuse to attack me.

"I am here to ensure the throne to be rightfully mine," she replies nonchalantly. "Hyrule believes it only has one living heir. But I shall reveal myself, only to bring the news that the beloved Queen Zelda has unfortunately died on her journey," she says my name mockingly.

Link growls fiercely, stepping between my sister and I. Haika barely even glances at him.

"Is that why you cursed us and sent us away across Hyrule? Why did you not simply kill me at the castle?"

"I needed power. Power that only the gods can supply—that way no one can challenge my throne. I knew if anyone could find the fabled Springs, it would be you."

My stomach drops. I fell for her trap, leading her around Hyrule to the Springs so that she could steal the power of the goddesses. And I left the castle, leaving my throne empty. Perfect for a coverup of my death.

"But you killed the king and queen," I accuse, trying to ignore the tempest of emotions beneath my mask. "How will you ever earn my people's trust?"

"There is power in intimidation," she says simply, uncaring. "They will be too afraid to challenge my power. And I'll finally bring justice to my people that have been tossed aside for all these centuries. Hyrule deserves a stronger ruler."

The words sting. How many times have I told myself the same thing? That I am too weak to rule my kingdom?

"Now you have done your part, and I thank you for it," she says without an ounce of genuine gratitude. "It's been a lovely reunion, sister, but I'm afraid we have to say farewell once again."

With dizzying speed, she unshealth a narrow blade from the small of her back and dives toward me with the stealth that could only belong to a Sheikah. With a gasp, I unsheath my own dagger, catching her blade before it lands in my chest.

She growls, ruby eyes broiling with fury. "You don't deserve the throne." She shoves away from me to dodge Link as he lunges at her, teeth bared.

"Neither do you," I spit, diving for my bow and aiming an arrow at her in one swift movement. I don't release it.

I thought she was dead for over a decade. She's my sister, even if only half of her blood is like mine. We were best friends.

My eyes begin to well with tears again. Haika laughs humorlessly at the sight.

"Queens are supposed to be strong," she reprimands as she zips toward me with her blade ready. I roll aside, barely dodging before I re-aim my bow.

"They are fearless." She jabs at me, and I jump aside.

"They are powerful." Link jumps at her, but she is too quick.

"They are not hindered by emotion."

Emotion.

I have worn a mask for years now, hiding and burying my emotions deep within myself where they can't harm me. All for the sake of remaining strong, collected.

Queens are not hindered by emotion.

"No," I pull the string of my bow more taught. "Only a coward hides their emotions."

I'm a coward.

Link looks back at me before he lunges at Haika again with a growl. His eyes were filled with understanding and sympathy. I grasp onto his support, trying to feed off of his courage.

"Is that so?" Haika lifts her free hand, summoning shadow magic. The shadows cast by the torches move and shift, as if they are coming to life. She throws her hand at Link, and the shadows follow the gesture. As the shadows flood into him, he falls and begins writhing with pain.

"No! Stop—"

Haika takes advantage of my distressed distraction and slams into me. We both tumble to the ground until she pins me beneath her.

Memories of innocent wrestling matches flood my mind, of us tumbling through the grass of the castle gardens and getting our skirts muddy. She was always stronger, always won. She would pin my arms down and laugh victoriously, shouting "I win!". The memory makes my heart clench painfully.

"Emotions will be your downfall," she hisses through her teeth. I struggle beneath her, trying to free my limbs to throw her off of me. I open my hand, calling to my rapier, my magic—anything.

The glow of the Triforce is all that responds, and Haika glares at the symbol.

"You were always the favorite."

She extends her hand, and I watch as a dark sword materializes in the air and flies into her hand. I grunt in effort as I struggle against her with renewed desperation.

"Haika, be rational for once!"

"You are upset that I've finally outsmarted you," she grins maliciously, and it reminds me all too much of Ganondorf's dark smile. Without another word, she lifts the sword. She brings it down, and I clench my jaw as I wait for the pain of blade through flesh.

Haika's blade barely slices my skin before she is thrown off of me. She shouts in furious surprise as she and Link roll away from me. He snaps his teeth at her, and she fights to keep his jaws from her throat.

I roll over onto my hands and knees, ignoring the small blossom of blood just above my breast where my heart hammers in terror.

My sister regathers her bearings, grasping her small blade from the shealth on her back. I snatch her discarded sword from the ground, bracing to aid Link. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, and I scramble toward them.

But I'm not fast enough.

Haika plunges her blade into Link ribs, and he lets out a pained cry as she heaves him to the side unceremoniously. I scream his name, and she heaves to her feet. She wipes at a gruesome cut wound on her forehead, smirking at me with eyes the same color as her blood.

"I do not have time for this." She turns and rushes down corridor toward the door to the Spring. I let her go, falling to Link's side and pressing my hand over the bloody wound in his chest.

"Link," I sob, unable to form any comprehensible sentence. His bright eyes are already glazed over with pain, and his breaths are labored and wet. He lets out a soft whine, using the last of his energy to gesture with his head to the Spring.

All I can do is shake my head. "I can't just leave—"

He lets out a growl, shaking me from my hysterical state.

The Spring.

The goddesses might heal him, but I must reach it before Haika steals it power for herself. If she does, she will be too strong to stop, especially with my own magic weakened. I give him one last regretful look, and then bow my head solemnly.

"I intend to keep my promise," I whisper, and he blinks slowly.

I rest the back of my fingers against his forehead, then jump to my feet and sprint with all my energy down the corridor, trying to blink back tears.

I have to save him.

Chapter Text

Haika has already entered the door to the Spring, and I burst into the chamber and vault up the steps two at a time. There’s strange energy festering in the air that nearly makes me nauseous, but I press forward until I see my sister kneeling in front of the Spring’s water.

    She’s hunched in concentration, hands encompassed by a dark violet energy as they over just above the water’s surface. The water slowly begins to glow, shining so brightly that I have to squint as I press the shadow sword to the back of Haika’s neck. The magic around her hands disappears, and she sighs in exasperation as if dealing with a child.

    “You have already lost. I have killed your hero and your magic is weak. The injustice dealt by your people will be undone under my rule.”

    I press the blade firmer against her neck, just beside her silvery braid. A small bead of blood collects on her skin, and she inhales sharply.

    “It’s all your fault,” she hisses.

    It’s all your fault . I shake off the memory of the nightmare, of the burned village, of Link’s cold, unstaring eyes. I glance down in horror as I see my hand glistening with Link’s blood. My heart quickens as Haika cautiously stands.

    “I suppose I should allow you some credit,” Haika continues. “You did lead me to the Springs after all. Now I can undo the nightmare I was born into.”

    “It is not my fault father was disloyal,” I whisper dangerously. But I instantly regret my words as Haika spins and knocks the sword from my grasp with a kick to my hand. I recover quickly, catching the blows from her fists with my arms. Her expression is contorted into rage.

    “You cannot tell me anything about ‘fault’,” she shouts. “Fate despises me! It bestowed you light magic, the blessings of the goddesses, Hylia’s blood, power—everything!”

    “I never wished injustice upon you!” I cry back, hopping over her leg as she tries to hook my knees with her foot. She throws a fist at me, and I catch her wrist with a steel grip. With an angry cry, she swings her other hand and I halt it as well. She thrashes wildly against my hold, but I use every last ounce of strength I keep her wrists in my hands. As I peer at her wild eyes, I see an undertone of agonizing sorrow. I can’t help but reciprocate that sorrow.

    “I wish things were not this way,” I tell her honestly, and she snarls at me.

    Something clicks in my mind, and I recall something Impaz—or rather, Haika—had told me. “ You must wade, clean and without impure possession, into the water of the Springs .”

“‘Clean and without impure possession’,” I repeat verbally, and Haika throws her head back, ready to bash it into my own. But I move before she can, shoving her away from me. She falls backwards, flailing to catch something.

I watch as her cry is cut off as she falls into the Spring’s waters, disrupting the serene surface. She breaks from the water, gasping for air, throwing her limbs about as she writhes in pain. She screams and arches her back as the holy water cleanses her of her dark magic.

After a long, agonizing time, she goes silent, exhausted. She drags herself to one of the shores of the Spring, heaving herself out of the water, and collapses.

I don’t wait to see if she wakes, instead hastily throwing my boots off and stepping into the waters, not bothering with my clothes. I wade out to the center of the Spring, feeling the stitching of my clothing slowly unwinding, and stare at the goddess statue’s cold, lifeless eyes.

“Holy Goddess Din,” I whisper, trying unsuccessfully to keep the waver out of my voice. It takes all I have to concentrate on my words, to not thinks of Links bleeding body just outside of the Spring.

“I come seeking help.”

-o0o-

The pain of my arm and the wound on my chest disappear as I land in the Sacred Realm. I open my eyes, trying to remain calm despite the turmoil whirling inside my head. As soon as I do so, I see a tall woman before me.

Din reminds me very much of the Gerudo, with a strong build and bright red hair. But the ends of her hair end in flames, matching the color of her eyes. She wears large golden bangles, and from her circlet hangs her symbol of three curved lines. Unlike Nayru and Farore, her expression is anything but welcoming, and she looks on at me with a stern expression.

“Why should I grant you my blessing? You have led evil to the Springs, the hero lies on his deathbed, and you have left your throne vulnerable.”

I flinch at her accusing words, but grasp onto the word deathbed . That means he is not yet dead. But it also means he will be very soon if I do not convince Din.

“I have made many regrettable mistakes,” I admit softly. “It is my responsibility to undo them. I require more strength to do so. I require power .”

She looks at me with eyes the color that remind me of the soil on Death Mountain. They are just as hard and fierce as the volcano itself, but she is quiet as she considers nonetheless.

“I am not so easily convinced as my sisters,” she says, and my heart sinks.

I bow humbly before her, trying to think of something, anything to convince her to give her blessing. Images of Link’s glazed eyes and bleeding body flit through my mind’s eye, and I glance down at my palms. In this realm, the blood is gone, and the waters of the Spring have very likely washed it away. But I can’t help but feel like it’s still there, dripping from my fingertips into the shallow water beneath me.

“I am a servant in your hands,” I vow, placing my hand over my heart in sincerity.

Please , I add mentally.

“I will give my blessing on one condition,” she decides, and I look up at her in gratitude. “Complete my trial. If you do so, then I will heal you and the hero.”

“Anything, Your Grace.”

But as she lifts her hand and my surroundings morph into a blur of red, I begin to question my courage.

When I blink and open my eyes next, I’m standing in a large plain that glows faintly blue. It’s almost serene and calming, if it weren’t for the steady hum of raw power beneath the ground. I glance down as my hands, watching the as shadows of blue flicker across my knuckles.

“Welcome to my realm of trial,” Din’s voice echoes in the air, though as I look around I do not see the intimidating goddess anywhere. “True power lies in conquering your fears with courage, and understanding how to do so with wisdom.”

I watch as red light appears from the air and consolidates into one mass, forming a massive figure. The red fades and reveals a man that makes my stomach drop. My fingers instantly begin to tremble, and I feel every last inkling of courage and determination flee from me.

Ganondorf’s face stretches into a crude smile, and I shudder at the sight of it. I take several steps backwards, trying to flee. He stalks toward me, and with a flash of red light a sword is in his grasp.

I cannot do this , I cry mentally. I can’t .

The malicious grin on his face melts off, leaving a deadly glare. He lifts his sword, charging at me like a furious boar. I roll away just in time to avoid the swing of the blade, and struggle back to me feet.

“Poor, delicate little princess,” he coos mockingly, his familiar voice sending unpleasant shudders down my spine. I stumble back as he swings his sword once again. “Too weak to rule her kingdom, this princess.” He jabs at me, and I hop aside. I try to ignore his words, focusing on some strategy. How I wish I had a sword—

I look down in shock as a broadsword appears in my hand, its blade sharp as it reflects the ethereal light of the realm. Ganondorf growls, then charges at me once again. Swiftly, I dodge his sword. I cannot possibly hope to be strong enough to parry his blade as Link did during the final battle.

The final battle. Ganondorf is already dead. This one isn’t real.

Allow that thought to feed my courage, I recall Link’s teachings during our duals. He always reminded me to remain swift and fast, tiring out my opponent rather than dealing blows with brute force.

So I do that now, dancing around Ganondorf and allowing my feet to carry me in light steps. Mentally, I sing the tune of a minuet, trying to keep my grace and balance as though I am at a grand ball, not a battle. Ganondorf continues to throw his sword about with a strong arm, and I glide out of his reach.

It seems like hours or maybe days that we go on, engaged in a deadly waltz with blades gleaming in the blue light of Din’s Realm. But finally, Ganondorf begins to slow and tire, his swings sloppier and his parries delayed. I refrain from grinning in victory.

But as his energy depletes, his fury grows. With a raging battle cry, he swings his sword over his head and arcs it at me with terrifying strength. I dance out of its line just barely fast enough, and it slams against the ground with a deafening clash. He in tugs in vain to remove his blade from where it is now embedded in the ground.

I do not hesitate, taking advantage of his mistake. I channel every ounce of my magic into my sword until it gleams like hot metal, and plunge it into the glowing wound in his chest with a cry. He sputters wordlessly, staring unseeingly at the ground. I watch numbly as his arms so slack, my chest heaving from exertion. I pull my sword free, and Ganondorf’s body disappears in a flash of scarlet light.

Calming my pounding heart, I wait for the surroundings of Din’s Realm to fall away, my trial complete. But nothing changes, and the hum of magic continues to ring through the air.

Footsteps echo behind me.

I turn to see Link stepping toward me with an unreadable face, and I nearly drop my sword in relief. I want to run and embrace him, to press my lips to his again.

But his eyes aren’t quite right, and don’t hold their usual genial gleam. So instead, I tighten my grip around the hilt of my weapon.

Wordlessly, Link stops in front of me. He reaches out his hand, grasping me gently by the arm, and my breath hitches. He lifts it, sliding his hand down until it rests on my own hand around the sword. He guides my hand until the tip of the sword is pressed against his chest.

With a blank look, he meets my eyes.

“Are you strong enough?” He asks.

“No,” I whisper.

Strangely, his mouth lifts into a cold smile that is unfamiliar on his face. “No, you’re not.”

I blink in surprise, feeling hurt blossom in my chest. My hand trembles beneath his.

“You’re unfit for the crown. You’ve failed your people. You’ve failed me. You’ll never be enough, will you?”

No, I agree miserably, each of his words sending new shards of betrayal into my heart.

“You’re pathetic,” he spits, smile gone from his face. “You can’t even complete this trial for yourself, for me .”

He sighs, as though scolding a disobedient child. “Do I mean so little to you?”

Something goes cold in my heart, and my face falls into its usual emotionless mask. Link would never say these things, and I know it. This is not the Link that held me when night terrors clawed at my head, not the one that told me I was too strong to break.

I steel myself as this fake Link cocks his head in mock disappointment. Then I shove both our hands away from me. His eyes widen, and my legs threaten to give out beneath me in pure sorrow from my betrayal.

His gaze follows the length of my sword to where it is now embedded in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. He lifts his eyes back to mine, and they’re blank.

My eyes cloud with tears, and I blink to clear my vision. When I do, Link is no longer at the other end of my sword.

In his place is a woman with chestnut hair and blue eyes so pale that they’re almost violet. I watch as her emotionless mask falls from her face, and her eyebrows lift in sorrow and her lip trembles. A tear escapes her eye and rolls down her cheek, mirroring the tear on my own.

“I forgive you,” she whispers back in my voice. I pull my blade free from her chest, blinded by a storm of tears threatening to spill over. She looks down in a daze at the bleeding wound above her breast, touching it thoughtfully. Slowly, she dissipates in a flash of red light, and I wipe the tears furiously away from my eyes.

“The trial is complete. You have earned my blessing.”

My heart feels hollow as my surroundings fade, and I return to the Sacred Realm. I look up to see all three of the Golden Goddesses standing before me. Nayru offers me a close-lipped smile, Din nods at me, and Farore puts her hands on her hips with a proud grin.

“You have done well,” another voice says, and I turn to see a woman step toward me. She is clad in a long, white dress, her golden hair cascading over her slim shoulders. Her vibrant blue eyes look down at me with a maternal pride. She takes my hand in one of hers, and hovers her other hand just above it.

I watch silently as the Triforce resonates, glowing brightly.

“I, Hylia, also bestow my blessing to you,” she says with a gentle smile. With her words comes a rush of raw power into my core, and I feel practically dizzy from it. My magic returns to its full capacity, though now it seems stronger now, more plentiful. With it comes peace that settles into my chest.

“Now go, my child,” Hylia encourages as she releases my hand. “Save your hero.”

I bow graciously, giving them each a nervous smile as I straighten.

Thank you , I mouth as my surroundings turn blinding white.

The moment I burst from the water, I turn on my heel and wade to the stone. As I set onto the dry platform, I realize the hem of my trousers are in tatters. But I ignore it, driven by the mental clock ticking in my head. A part of me fears that I was too slow, that he’s bled out and died on the sandstone. The thought makes my heart constrict painfully, and I have to remind myself to breathe properly.

I notice Haika in passing, seeing she is still unconscious on the shore. Her cheeks are paler than before, and her breaths release in small shudders.

Hopping down the steps, I chant the word please in my head like a mantra. My legs are swift as they carry me down the corridor, my bare feet padding against the stone.

There . My chest hitches at the sight of his limp body, and the pool of dark blood surrounding him. I drop onto my knees next to him, resting my fingers against his throat. A frail beat responds, barely there. But still, there . He’s unconscious, but alive.

There’s still time.

I scoop him up in my arms, startled at how light he feels from the loss of blood. My ears tune closely to his weak breaths as I carry him back to the Spring. Stubbornly, I ignore the feeling of blood trailing down my arms, mixing with the water droplets on my skin.

Stopping at the stone platform, I kneel carefully to refrain from jostling Link. Solemnly, I place him in the water, holding his head above the surface.

My heartbeat echoes loudly in my ears as I wait.

After a moment, a flash of scarlet light sparks into his core, followed by a gleam of golden light. The light brightens, sending out sparks as they envelop his body. I let go and watch as his form is lifted above the water by an unseen force, the gold light so blinding that I have to shield my eyes. A gust of wind blows pushes against me as the sparks continue to spin like a pinwheel. Magic hums like a bubbling creek as the power in the room builds on itself.

Before long, I have to turn my head away and snap my eyes closed, waiting for the light to fade. There’s a burst of light from the other side of my eyelids, and the magical tension in the air snaps. The Triforce on the back of my hand hums slightly, responding to the goddesses’ power.

I open my eyes, watching as Link’s Hylian form is lowered back in the water. Tears of pure relief spring to my eyes, and I reach to pull him onto the stone with me. Carefully, I lay his head on my lap, brushing his wet hair from his face. I check his ribs to see the wound completely healed, as well as the scar from the dart.

We did it , I sob mentally. The curse is lifted .

Then, blessedly, his eyes crack open. They’re unfocused as he blinks away the last of his fatigue, and then they fall on my face. I press my hand to his cheek, barely containing my glee.

Without a thought more, I lean down, pressing an ardent kiss to his lips. I feel him smile against my lips as he brings a hand to my jaw. The whole world seems to pause, and the elation bubbling in my chest is nearly enough to make me burst. All I can feel is the heat of his lips moving against my own, and the joy that he’s alive, that he’s safe.

He breaks away to study my face, and traces the flushed skin of my face.

“I must say I am very glad you kept your promise.”

I smile openly now, pressing my forehead to his and closing my eyes.

“Me too.”

Chapter Text

Link and I break away from each other as we hear a pained groan. I help Link into a sitting position, and we watch as Haika lifts herself from the shore with unstable limbs. She blinks blearily, nursing her head. Her eyes fall on Link and me, and a irate look overcomes her features. She stumbles to her feet, throwing her hand at us.

I conjure up a light shield around us, but no shadow magic comes. Haika shouts in frustration, throwing her hand once more, only to see her magic does not respond.

“By the shadows,” she exclaims, staring accusingly at her hands. Her eyes snap up to mine. “What have you done to me?”

Link guides both of us to our feet, and I give her a calm look.

“The goddesses have given their punishment for your deeds.”

The Springs water stripped her of her dark magic, as I had hoped it would. Strangely, the victory tastes bittersweet. My sister blinks as she tries to process what I’ve told her, and then she clenches her fists.

“Kill me,” she demands through gritted teeth.

I step toward her in concern. “Haika—”

“Kill me!” She sobs. “I’m worthless without my power—I’m nothing . Claim your victory.”

I shake my head, approaching her with overt empathy and sorrow. She reels from me like an injured animal.

“Get away,” she says miserably. “You have ruined me! Leave me. Get away from—”

But I ignore her demands, pulling her into an embrace. The fight in her flickers out and she sags against me, sobbing into my already-soaked tunic.

“I despise you,” she says between gasps and tears.

I swallow against the hurt from the words, but hold her against me all the same.
    “And I miss you.”

    As we leave the temple, I spot Kaavu’s form laying in a heap on the sand. I rush to her in a panic, but she begins to push herself up to a sitting position. She shakes the sand from her hair, then glances up at me.

    “Where—”

    Her gaze falls on Haika, whose hands are bound and is being led by Link. The Gerudo’s expression immediately turns sour, and she unsheiths a wicked scimitar from her back.

    “You wretched—”

    “Kaavu,” I say sternly and press a hand against her shoulder to halt her pursuit toward my sister. “She is property of Hylian Courts. I will not have you harming her.”

    Haika returns Kaavu’s burning glare, but thankfully the chief resheaths her blade and continues dusting herself off. She seems to finally notice Link, and she freezes. Her amber eyes travel down his form and back up, showing open interest. He simply watches her with clear dis interest.

    “Well, Your Majesty,” Kaavu crosses her arms expectantly, “would you care to explain what in Din’s name has happened?”

    I sigh, glancing at Link, who remains quiet. “I will tell you on the way back to Gerudo Town.”

We stay one night in the town in the same tent as before. We had to sneak Link in while everyone was settled in their own tents for the night, not wanting to risk an uproar of having a man within the town limits. And I’m not wholly convinced they would show him anger, but rather desperation. After all, how many of these women had actually seen a man in person?

    In the early morning, I give Kaavu my sincere thanks and once again promise her correspondence once I’ve returned to the castle. She offers me a cheerful smile, telling me she greatly looks forward to it. Then the three of us trek out of town before the heat of the day has settled over the sand.

    I lead the way, with Haika behind me with hands bound and Link behind her to keep an eye on her. She hasn’t said a word since we left the temple, and spends all her time staring blankly at her hands. I can’t help but feel sympathy for her, and find myself wishing that things had been different. She could have been a valuable ally if she wasn’t so driven by her lust for power and revenge.

    On the first night since leaving Gerudo Town, her eyes lift long enough to survey the dark air with a hollow expression. But her sight halts on something in the distance, and a look of desperation overcomes her features. She suddenly leaps to her feet and turns to sprint from us, sending sprays of sand in her wake. Link and I run after her, and I shout her name in a desperate attempt to stop her. There’s no way she’ll survive without supplies in the ruthless desert. No way—

    An arrow whizzes through the night air from our right, landing wetly in Haika’s throat. I watch in horror as she collapses in the sand, unmoving. Vaguely, I feel as Link tugs my bow from around my torso, nocking an arrow and aiming somewhere in the night. A garbled cry echoes through the air as he fells the monster, then another.

    But I just stare at Haika’s limp form in the sand, dazed. The logical side of my brain tells me she’s dead, that no one could survive an arrow to the neck, but the sisterly, desperate side of me hopes she regains her footing and stands once again.

    The cold desert night is quiet once again, and I feel Link place his hand gently on the small of my back.

    “Zelda,” he says softly, as though he’s worried he’ll frighten me. “Let’s go.”

    I just shake my head weakly, eyes never leaving my sister’s body. Distantly, I realize that I am trembling. I can’t feel my limbs, and everything seems to be overrun with shock. Everything just feels numb and dull.

    Vaguely, I feel calloused hands cupping my face, and Link lifting my face to break my gaze from Haika. I stare through him, seeing nothing but her unmoving figure in my mind’s eye.

    Link silently scoops me up, placing his arms under my knees and shoulders, and carries me back to our small camp. Holding my arms around his neck, feeling nothing but cold.

    She died once before, and that nearly destroyed me as a small girl. But now, seeing her after all these years, undoubtedly dead fractures something inside me. Old memories of tearful nights and days spent mourning all flood back, fresh and painful .

    I hardly notice as Link sits us down on his bed pad, still holding me against him without a word passing his lips.

    The pain is overwhelming.

All of it is too overwhelming.

    Haika’s death. My parent’s deaths. The Twilight Invasion. Midna’s farewell. The pressure of being queen regnant. The isolation of royalty. Nearly losing Link.

    The pressure strains until I feel like I’m suffocating, gasping for it to relent. I’ve pressed all my emotions, fears, trauma—everything—deep down where I thought it wouldn’t hurt me. But now I feel it bubbling to the surface, destroying every wall I’ve erected over the years.

    I can feel the exact moment I crack, then shatter.

    And the pain is agonizing .

    I tighten my grip around Link’s neck, and sob .

My body heaves with tears and choked sobbing, and Link holds me closer to him.

Everything hurts .

    So I cry for Haika, and the way we ran around the castle like the tomboys we were, laughing as we teased the staff. I cry for mother, and the way she would smile secretively when I did something father disapproved of, and her gentle singing. I even cry for my stoic father, and the occasional genial gleam in his eyes when I said something clever. I cry for Midna, of her snarky remarks and fiercely loving nature, and the deeds she did for a kingdom that wasn’t even her own. I cry for the wounds I receive from my imprisonment in my own tower, of the bruises on my neck and the scars on my ribs from Ganondorf’s abuse.

    I sob and sob, until I feel like I have nothing left to give.

    I am withered, wilted, and empty.

    Where my core was once filled with emotions and turmoil, I now feel raw emptiness.

    So this is what is is to break , I think numbly. The pieces have fallen and scattered . Is there anything left?

    But as Link presses his lips into my hair and rubs his hand against my shoulder, I realize that I don’t want to give up. Despite the overflow of agony, I still feel a tug to trudge forward.

And now, I feel the want to heal.

    “I don’t want to be broken anymore,” I whisper against his throat after a long time, my voice hoarse.

    He runs a hand through my hair, deep in thought. “We’re both broken,” he says softly, emotion heavy in his voice. “But perhaps our pieces together will be enough to make a complete person.”

    I nod, tired and completely spent. “Yes.”

    And beneath the fading ache of my doleful tears is a warming feeling of hope, and fierce love for the man that saved me.

——————

LINK 7

    The next day passes in mournful silence. Zelda falls into step behind me, eyes distant. I glance at her occasionally in worry, hoping she hasn’t been lost completely. But her quiet confession after her tears was enough to assure me that she’s on the road to healing.

    I hadn’t even known Zelda had a sister. Perhaps my distance growing up in Ordon is to blame my lack of knowledge, but I can’t be sure. Either way, Zelda had made it clear that she thought her sister was dead from the same plague that claimed my parents all those years ago. I know the shock of seeing the woman killed with her own eyes settles heavy on Zelda’s shoulders.

    But when she had cried into my shoulder last night, I had a feeling she was crying for more than just her sister’s death.

    I don’t want to be broken anymore .

    I hoped she interpreted my reply, of how immensely in love I am with her. But either, way there was a glimmer of joy at knowing that she seeks comfort from me, even if it is only in small increments. Despite her obvious despair, she seems ready to mend. I can only hope that I can aid her in piecing her confidence back together.

    Per habit, I check her over my shoulder, seeing her trudging along and deep in thought. Her eyes are trained on the sand beneath her, staring but seeing nothing. But now her fingers are thrumming against her leg as she walks. The sight in familiar and comforting to know that she’s puzzling over something, working the knots in her mind to make clear of things.

    Zelda blinks, then meets my gaze with unreadable eyes. I offer her a gentle smile, trying to lift her mood. She doesn’t respond, and just studies my face blankly.

“Link?”

“Yeah?”

“Remind me to tell you something. It’s important.”

“Why can’t you tell me now?”

She furrows her eyebrow slightly, a spark of emotion warming her dazed stare.

“I have to think still. Then I can tell you.”

I refrain from chuckling.

“What is that brilliant mind brewing?” I smile as I turn back to watch where we are headed. But not before I catch a small lift of her lips.

As our time passes in the desert, Zelda’s mood improves. She begins to talk more, asking me questions about growing up in Ordon. She offers a few of her own stories from her childhood, and I am amused to learn she was quite the terrorist to the castle’s staff. Whether it was catching and releasing frogs into the hallways or leaving muddy handprints on the knight’s armor when they weren’t paying attention, she loved to pull pranks. As she tells the stories, there’s a faint glint of mischievousness in her eyes, and I can’t help but wonder if she still has the urge for her clever pranks now. No one in the castle would expect their stoic, proper queen to have such a sense of humor.

    Each night, she unloads her bed pad next to mine. During the night, just before I fall asleep, she slips her hand into mine, grasping it firmly as though to tether herself the real world so she doesn’t get lost in her nightmares.

    On our last night in the desert, images of ghastly beasts and skeletal warriors plague my sleep. Memories from the Invasion. It’s nothing worse than the night terrors I’ve gotten before, but I still wake with a jolt. I open my eyes to the dark expanse of the desert, eyes glancing around as though I expect a stalfos to saunter from the depths of the sand at any moment.

    But my attention is diverted as Zelda tightens her hand around mine, and I peer down to see her violet gaze watching me carefully. Wordlessly, she slides across her matt, releasing my hand only to wind her arms around my waist. My pulse echoes loudly in my ears as she hugs herself snuggly against me. Faintly, I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, but she doesn’t move away. After reminding myself to breathe, I crane my head to look at her face, seeing her eyelids closed again.

    I fall back asleep after noting how perfectly our bodies fit together.

-o0o-

I’ve never been so happy to see Lake Hylia in my entire life.

    Zelda and I practically run down the switchback road leading away from the desert, and we make it to Deya Village in early evening. We’re both caked in a layer of sand and grime, skin flushed from the heat, and exhausted from the travel. Zelda covers her face with her hood as soon as we are around others to protect her identity, but we attract attention from our weathered appearance.

“Hey, Link!”

I spin around to see a vaguely familiar face of a young man I met on my travels. His brown hair is a mess, and his green eyes bright as always.

“Did you and your lady just get back from the desert?” He asks with a incredulous look on his face.

I give him a tired nod in confirmation. His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth to spout another series of questions, but I interrupt him.

“I’m sorry, kid,” I attempt a smile, but it likely looks more like a grimace. “We’re exhausted from the journey. The desert isn’t exactly a stroll in the park.”

He sputters some apologies, and I lead Zelda to the inn before we get stopped by another onlooker. People don’t often travel through the desert, as it is only a place of brutal weather and ruins. The villagers are likely curious why we spent our time in such an unforgiving place.

We rent a room from the colorful inn once again, and I leave to the market to find supplies as she washes up in the bath she requested to our room. I clean up graciously in the village’s bathhouse, scrubbing away the filth of the desert from my skin and shaving away the stubble that had grown on my face.

Feeling refreshed and clean, I head back to the inn. Upon reaching the door to our room, I hear the muffled sound of Zelda humming from inside. I halt my hand, listening to the familiar song.

Zelda’s Lullaby , I recall. The same ancient hero that had taught me hidden skills for combat taught me the lullaby on my journey. Upon finishing the tune, the golden wolf had turned to me, and I was startled by the heavy look of sorrow in his only remaining eye.

Snapping myself from my thoughts, I knock gently on the door. Zelda stops humming, and I immediately miss the sound.

    The door knob clicks as she unlocks it, and I allow myself inside. She offers a cheerful greeting as I enter the room, and settles on her bed to resume combing her damp hair. A rosy hue taints her face, and she smells faintly of lavender. She glances up to catch me staring, raising an eyebrow. I look away and busy myself with packing up supplies, embarrassed.

    She’s much too distracting like that , I decide. I may do something rash again when her skin is glowing and her clean, damp hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders as she combs.

    “I hardly recognize you without the scruff,” she teases, gesturing to her face with her comb.

“I hardly recognize you without the layer of dirt,” I fire back, throwing a grin over my shoulder. She rolls her eyes and tries unsuccessfully to keep her lips from lifting into a smile.

“Fair enough.”

Too distracting .

She braids her hair back from her face as I finish organizing our food and supplies for the journey back. Silently, she watches me, then she sighs.

“I find myself uneager to return to the castle,” she admits softly, staring at her pack where I placed it on the ground. I lay on my own bed, crossing my arms beneath my head and staring at the ceiling. I have to look anywhere but her in case I lose track of my thoughts again.

“Me too. But Lord Velar might throw a fit if we don’t.”

She’s silent at that, and out of the corner of my eye I watch her finish her braid.

“We only have a couple days left,” she mentions absently.

“It will only take us a day to arrive at the castle,” I assure her.

She looks out the small window of the inn room. “As long as Lord Velar does not send the royal army after me,” she says dryly, and I chuckle.

“He cares for you,” I tell her. “The whole castle does. They only want to ensure your safety.”

“I know,” she says quietly, but she doesn’t sound wholly convinced.

I turn my head to study her face as she stares out the window. It's carefully set in stone as always with her brow smooth and lips set in a neutral line. But her eyes betray her thoughts, as they always do.

“You don’t believe them?”

“I know they are concerned for my safety.”

“But you don’t think they care about you .” It’s more of a statement than a question.

She stands suddenly to look closer out the window, remaining silent. I sigh, pushing myself to sit upright.

“Zelda...”

“It is petty, I know,” she brushes off hurriedly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” I argue. “And it matters that you know the truth.”

“And what is that?”

“That your people do care about you.”

“They must. I am the woman who ensures their own security,” she says sourly. As if startled at her own bitterness, she purses her lips tighter and allows a soft sigh through her nose.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” I sigh. “Your people adore you, Zelda.”

“But to them I am distant. Unreachable.”

“Yes,” I agree carefully, “but that doesn’t mean they don’t care for you. I have traveled Hyrule, and have heard from people firsthand of their adoration for you. You’re the beacon of strength for the kingdom. You lead with kindness, grace, beauty, and brilliance. And your people love you for it.”

I love you for it .

Zelda says nothing, face unreadable as she stares out the window.

“Zelda—”

“You forgot to remind me,” she says suddenly, averting the conversation.

It’s important , her voice from that day in the desert echoes in my head. I watch her silently, taking my turn to say nothing. Finally, Zelda turns from the window, meeting my eyes. There’s a strange nervousness in her gaze as she takes a step forward. Her eyes glance over my face, pausing on my lips, before they flit back up to my eyes. Something in my stomach stirs.

“May I ask you for truth?” She sits slowly next to me on my bed, keeping a measured space between us. I resist the urge to close the distance.

“Always,” I tell her, trying to decipher her face. She looks strangely vulnerable, uncertain. It’s so odd to see the queen of Hyrule in such a state, and I’m reminded once again of how very young she really is.

Zelda’s eyes drop away from my face as she seems to steel herself. I almost can’t hear her when she whispers,

“What do you feel of me?”

My heart stutters over several beats. She’s stubbornly staring at the homespun rug on the floor and avoiding my eyes. Her hands are fisted tightly on her lap, and she’s still as a statue as she awaits my reply.

Something tells me she isn’t asking if I approve of her as a queen.

“Zelda,” I say softly, and she practically flinches at the sound of my voice. Another pregnant moment of silence passes in the room, and I grasp to halt my spinning thoughts. Finally, I reach out to take her face between my palms, forcing her to meet my gaze. There’s fear, doubt, and hope all warring at once in her eyes.

My pulse pounds in my ears, and it’s almost deafening. Every cell in my body is shouting at once, whether it is to tell me to remain quiet or to tell her the truth. Who am I, a man born on a ranch and raised in a small village, to tell the queen that I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her?

But the look on her face, raw and terrified and completely human , is enough to push me beyond caring what propriety might say. At last, I make sense of the spinning jumble in my mind and arrange the words as they settle.

“I can hardly breathe properly when you smile at me. I live to see the brilliant spark in your eyes, and it hurts to think of any path of my life that does not have you in it.”

Of the three emotions battling in her eyes, hope becomes the most dominant. I brush her cheek lightly with my thumb, and her breath hitches.

“You want to know what I feel of you?” I ask her, feeling my heart racing even quicker in my chest. She nods silently against my hands. Once the you say it , I warn myself , that is final.

No going back.

“I love you. Not just Queen Zelda of Hyrule, but Zelda.”

The words sound strange leaving my mouth. But as soon as they do, I feel a weight lift from my chest and I feel as though I can breathe correctly again. I release a shuddering breath, reveling in the finality of the words.

“I love you,” I repeat again, testing the words on my tongue. It feels right, I decide. She says nothing, as though startled into silence. I press my forehead against hers as if trying to convey my thoughts to her, and she closes her eyes with a wavering breath. My head seems clearer, and my heart beats a little smoother now.

A tear falls from underneath her lashes, and I wipe it away gently.

“Zelda?”

She lifts her hands and places them over mine and leans back to look at my face. My stomach sinks to see her eyes filled with tears as she opens them again. She swallows, searching to gather her words.

“I...” She glances between my eyes as she struggles for something to say. She is always so quick with words. It is a momentous occasion when she fumbles for them.

I feel myself deflating as Zelda removes my hands from her face, gently as though handling a scared animal. Hurt blossoms in my chest, and I suddenly wonder if I shouldn’t have spoken so boldly. But she asked for honesty, did she not?

“This is dangerous,” she whispers, staring at our hands. I blink in confusion at her words, expecting her to retract her hands, to flee within herself and replace her mask securely on her face as she always does.

But she doesn’t let go of them. Instead she presses a kiss against my palm, then slowly places one of my hands just above her heart. My breath catches in my throat as she presses my fingers flat against the fabric over her warm skin. Beneath my palm, I can feel her heartbeat pounding wildly against her ribs, just as mine is.

Her eyes lift to mine, gauging my thoughts. Her fingers slide up the wrist of my other hand until they find my pulse. She breathes almost like a sigh of relief, as if knowing that my heartbeat is just as erratic as hers reassures her.

“Very dangerous,” she repeats, staring intently on my face.

“A little danger never scared us,” I tell her softly. The corners of her lips lift ever so slightly. A warm silence passes once again as I study her. She’s absolutely stunning, glowing in the candle light and eyes sparking with curiosity.

“No,” she agrees after a moment. “It doesn’t.” Without a moment more, she drops my hands to take my face in her own hands and kisses my lips ardently.

Shock replaces the uncertainty in my chest, then falls away to glee. Slowly, I respond to her desperate lips, resting my hands on her waist. For the second time, I realize how perfectly she fits against me, how natural and right the contact feels.

Like destiny , I decide in the haze of the heat growing in my stomach.

Zelda breaks away just enough to catch her breath.

“I love you.” Her lips brush intoxicatingly against mine, and I can’t help but smile in overwhelming relief. She leans back to stare at me, amused.

“What?”

“You terrified me,” I accuse.

She smiles, a dazzling and breathtaking sight that makes my heart clench.

I press my lips to hers again, slowly and tenderly this time.

I’ve ever felt so relieved, so sure. There are few things that I’ve been unwaveringly certain about in my life. But the elation and warmth bubbling in my chest and her lips against mine are things I am absolutely certain that I cannot live another day without.

We simply hold each other for what seems like a life time, as though uncaging our thoughts and hearts has burnt up the last of our energy.

Zelda breaks away enough to stifle an adorably sleepy yawn with her hand. I grin at her, and she blurts an apology in obvious horror at the yawn. I grudgingly guide her back onto her feet, leading her to her own bed across the room.

She settles beneath the duvet, grumbling, "I needn't be tucked in".

But I do so anyways, pressing a kiss to her nose as goodnight.

I settle in my own bed and watch her gentle breaths rising and falling under the duvet and feel the ghost of her lips blazing on my own. Then I realize I’ve never felt so blissfully joyous in my entire life.

Chapter Text

ZELDA

I've never appreciated an actual bed more in my entire life.

My eyes flit open against the morning light illuminating the room, and I watch the small beam of sunlight streaming through the curtained window. My gaze follows the floorboards up to the small bed across the room, then settling on Link's sleeping form. He's on his stomach, arms tucked underneath his pillow, with his hair a wild halo of dusty-gold around his face. His lips are parted ever so slightly as he breathes heavy, sleepy breaths. Even now, I can feel a ghost of his heated lips against mine.

He loves me.

The thought lights me aglow with joy and victory more than any morning light, and the warmth spreads all the way to my fingers and toes.

I had been terrified, second-guessing myself over and over until I finally forced the question from my lips. It hadn't been exactly what I meant to say—but I was afraid to tell him the truth in case he did not reciprocate it.

But my insecurity and fears had been in vain. The thought alone sends a smile to my face.

Silently, I push myself to a sitting position and stretch my joints. It almost feels strange to wake without sand in my duvet and blankets—but it's certainly not a feeling I miss. I swing my feet to the ground and step to the window to part the curtains slightly.

But there's still a grudging dread hanging over me. This adventure has been anything but smooth and predictable, but I still sink at the thought of returning to the castle. The stars will be dimmer there, the air less crisp and fresh.

But my people need me, so I will return.

I stretch out my left arm, wincing as the raw skin protests against the movement. How will I explain such a wound? My maids and councilmen and councilwomen will undoubtedly make a fuss.

Unless…

I push my sleeve up, revealing the long cuts. Curiously, I place my other hand lightly against the wound, ignoring the spike of pain it sends up my arm. I close my eyes in concentration, calling to the magic that I fought so hard to restore.

It responds readily, flooding to my fingertips with dizzying power. But even with more magic and power, healing is always taxing.

My thoughts recall the memory of healing Midna in her desperate need. She had been on the brink of death, breaths labored and sickly pale. Healing her so extensively reaped a dire consequence. It had completely torn my soul from my body to heal and allow her the ability to exist in the light of Hyrule. The process was agonizing, but completely necessary.

Zelda… I've taken all that you had to give… though I did not want it.

My wound begins to glow as I force magic to it. The skin around it begins to soothe, becoming less angry red. The lacerations become more narrow, the flesh beneath them knitting back together and making the wound less deep.

But my head begins to swim, and I feel fatigue dulling my senses. With a gasp, I cut off the flow of magic, grasping the window sill to steady myself against the wave of dizziness. As I slow my breaths, I blink away the vertigo blackening my vision.

"Zelda?"

I feel a feather-light touch to my shoulder blade, and turn to see Link peering down at me with a haze of sleepiness lingering in his eyes. There are lines from the sheets across one side of his face, and I resist the urge to trace them with my fingertip.

"The art of healing is not always pleasant," I grimace. His gaze flits down to my bare arm as he interprets my words. There's concern in his eyes, but I offer what I hope is a reassuring look to comfort him. My arm is still far from being completely healed, but the pain has lessened considerably. It will still take several attempts to wholly restore it.

It takes us little time to pack up our few things for the day and head out. I retrieve my horse from the local stables, taking time to rub her nose and murmur apologies for leaving her for so long.

As Link and I walk out of Deya Village with my horse in tow, we both have an air of reluctance hanging over us. He told me last night it would only take one more day to return to the castle.

One more day of freedom.

We follow the pass through lower Lanayru, intending to enter the castle in the northern gates where the bustle of Castletown is less suffocating. But here, there is a massive amount of travelers on the road, likely merchants and traders heading between the kingdom's capital and the growing settlements in the west. Seeing people moving about the roads cheerfully rubs off on me, and I can't help but feel relief at seeing firsthand how much Hyrule is thriving.

But I continuously find myself falling into distraction. There's a different aura between Link and I now since our exchange last night. No matter how much I try to puzzle over it, I can't quite place a word on how it feels. More comfortable and free with each other, I suppose. Either way, it brings comfort knowing that he reciprocates my own thoughts.

We take frequent breaks, stopping at little alcoves and landmarks that Link animatedly explains the history of to me. And he doesn't hesitate to usher out of the sight of the fellow travelers to steal eager kisses that leave me dizzy each time, no matter how brief or chaste they are.

Despite being royalty, I have had some experience of supposed love and courtship—foolish though it was. When I was hardly sixteen years of age, there was a mysterious and fair-featured boy who was the son of a wealthy estate from the eastern lands. He had enraptured me instantly upon seeing him in my father's court, and I spent every waking moment at his side during his visits to the castle.

He claimed to be completely enamored by me, and showered me with flattering compliments and gifts that would send any girl head-over-heels. But after only couple months of supposed courtship, he had stopped attending court visits with his father. Upon asking, I discovered he was home with his fiancee. I thought I was heartbroken, until I realized that the little spark between us was not love, but childish infatuation.

But Link—

I lean back to catch my breath now, looking up at him with my arms clasped around his neck. His clear blue eyes open to gaze back at me, and they're filled with raw, overt adoration and love that looks more ancient and sure than the flagstones of my castle. My heart flutters in my chest as he grins quizzically down at me through the daze, tilting his head slightly.

"What is it?"

"Does this mean we are courting?" I ask him seriously, fiddling with the back of his collar mindlessly.

"I certainly hope so," he replies softly, pulling me a little closer and pressing his lips to my jaw. My blood pounds even louder, and my cheeks flush. I may never grow used the buzz on my lips and the heat of his skin even through our clothing.

I quirk a tiny smile back at him, then lift onto my toes to meet his lips again.

Yes, this is undoubtedly more than childish infatuation. It feels too strangely familiar, too ancient and sempiternal.

My mind wanders back to my ancestor, the ghost that had taught me the ancient songs to unlock the Springs. Had she felt this age-old feeling when she kissed her hero and embraced him? Is it the destiny for the soul of the goddess and her hero to forever be entwined by soul?

As we continue onward on the road after correcting my disheveled hair and misplaced hood, I can't help but feel a sadness for my ancestor. When she had spoken to me, it was clear how dearly she loved her hero even after the many centuries that had passed since her death. When was the last time she had seen him? The last time she told him she loved him?

I send a silent prayer to the heavens for her sake, pleading that she has reunited with him in the afterlife now that her soul has finished her business in this realm. But what if his soul, too, is wandering the land?

Please allow her to find him, I beg the goddesses.

What had her life been like, marrying a man likely for political advantage when her heart was possessed by someone else? How much had her heart shattered to give herself to the one she didn't love, to bear his children and rule as though her heart wasn't in tatters?

I make a vow as I walk by Link's side with the ghost of his lips still burning on mine and the dizzying of elation of love lightening my steps. My gaze rests on Link's face out of the corner of my eye as I commit the vow to heart.

I will marry you, Link. You can count on it.

He catches my eye, offering me a lopsided smirk at catching me staring at him, and my stomach tangles into knots.

I will fight for it with everything I have.

-o0o-

We're just west of one of Castletown's entrances when I notice the whispers.

Link notices them as well, and he halts the next person we overhear murmuring. The two ladies' eyes brighten as they recognizes the Hero of Hyrule, and the shorter woman's face flushes slightly with delight to have been stopped by him.

I barely refrain from smirking at the knowledge that his affections belong to me.

Don't be prideful, Zelda, I kick myself mentally.

"Forgive me for the interruption," Link begins, ignoring their flustered attempts to reassure him, "but may I ask what the gossip about the queen is?"

My heart shudders nervously as the more outgoing of the two eagerly speaks up.

"You haven't heard?" She gapes, and Link and I shake our head. "Queen Zelda is rumored to be missing. There hasn't been any audiences or court or anything in nearly four weeks."

"Some say she's been stolen off by some man," the other woman blurts, clearly excited by the rumors. "Got tired of the suitors, I reckon."

Internally, I groan. How am I going to undo this mess? Lord Velar was the only person to know of my leaving, but the entire castle likely knew the day I left of my absence. My staff and Guard are loyal enough to retain the privacy of my journey. But after several weeks, everyone is sure to catch on. I can only imagine my council is frantically trying to conjure some explanation for my absence.

"Thank you," I cut off the two women in their conspiratorial and animated gossiping, and they both turn to me in surprise as though they just barely realized I was standing there. One of the ladies glances between Link and I, but I turn away with Link in tow before she can scrutinize my face under the shadow of my hood.

"I am afraid we have made a mess," I murmur to Link as I lead him to the bridge leading into Castletown, my hand still grasping his as I pull him between the bustle leaving and entering the capital.

"Ze—" He cuts himself off, thinking better than to say my name in the open. "I thought we were going to enter the northern gates."

I release his hand and wait for him to catch up to my side as we enter the western streets of town. Securing my hood over my face, I head toward the castle standing proudly in the distance.

"We do not have the time anymore to go around," I tell explain, shaking my head. He furrows his eyebrows in understanding, and we navigate the bustle of the market and vendors with urgency.

At last, we approach the gates leading to the southern courtyard of the castle, and two guards nod at us as we pass. They keep a wary eye on me with my hooded identity, likely trying to decide if they should halt me. But they recognize Link, and they say nothing.

Several couriers and townsfolk turn in surprise upon seeing the hero returning to the castle. One of the soldiers waves to him from his post, asking where he has been. Link simply calls back and tells him "later".

The whisper of gossip is even louder here, and several people are asking the soldier about my absence. I silently thank the men for explaining that they are not allowed to tell about my lack of appearing in court. It is roundabout and vague at best, but it may fool the gossipers into believing that I am at the castle, and perhaps simply ill and unable to hold audiences.

At least, I pray they believe that.

We hastily approach the front doors to the castle, and one of the guards greets Link amiably. But he stops me this time, as is protocol.

"State your name and business in Hyrule Castle," her orders. "And please, my lady," he gestures to my cowl, "remove your hood."

With the removal of my hood comes the removal of being an adventurer, a traveler, and just simply a woman. From now on I return to my role of queen of Hyrule, the image of poise, grace, and wisdom.

I refrain from sighing as I pull the hood back. It takes only a split second before the guard recognizes me. His eyes widen in surprise, then he hastily schools his face into a mild interest.

"Your Majesty," he breathes, shifting to bow. "Forgive me—"

"Please," I halt him before he can show any formality. "I was hoping to enter the castle without any fanfare."

I give him a pointed look, hoping he'll read the meaning behind my words. I need to sneak in without confirming people's suspicion that I was absent in the first place.

He understands—thank Hylia—and gestures us in after giving Link a curious look.

"I will escort Her Majesty," Link assures him quietly, and thus leads me into the castle. As soon as we enter the massive tiled event room, I flick my hood back over my head. People heed us little mind, save for the few greetings to Link and curious questions of where he has been.

But he has to decline any conversation, and instead leads me through the vaulted hallways of my cold home and up several flights of carpeted stairs. We enter the eastern wing, and finally arrive at the door to my chambers. There's one knight of my Royal Guard stationed beside the grand double doors, likely for appearance more than anything in case some bold soul tries to enter my chambers without permission.

"Commander," the soldier startles upon seeing Link. "The entire Guard—well, castle actually—has been curious where you have been. No one cared to tell us."

There's an underlying tone of hurt in his words. From what I have seen, Link takes time to get to know each of the men and women of his Guard, and keeps them informed on changes or scheduling. For Link to not tell his men and women about his sudden disappearance beforehand—it's considered dishonorable and misleading. My heart reaches out to Link as emotions war on his face, and I resist the urge to take his hand.

"You must forgive me, Mal," Link begins, but I cut him off.

"It is my fault for involving the Commander in confidential matters," I tell the young knight, lowering my hood once again. "He is not to blame."

The man startles upon seeing me, falling into a hasty bow. "Your Majesty—it brings me overwhelming relief to see you," he fumbles, and I offer him a reassuring smile. But the look only seems to fluster him further.

"Please—welcome home, Your Majesty," he says softly, opening the door to my chambers, and I enter graciously. My gaze wanders over the familiar sight of my room, taking in the massive bed and tall windows along the wall. It's tastefully designed and detailed—fit for a queen—but seeing it brings a subdued feeling in my chest. Sleeping beneath a silk canopy is dull compared to sleeping under the open stars.

I turn on the carpet back toward the door. Link is standing tall with a formal air to him, and he gives me a gentle nod.

"Have a good evening, Your Majesty," he says, and my heart sinks at the lack of warmth in the words.

Titles and propriety will be the end of me, I decide.

I offer him a small smile, hoping he'll see the sincerity in my eyes.

"Thank you for your service, Commander."

The door has nearly closed when a thought sparks in my mind. I have a mess of rumors and speculation to untangle, and I intend on doing so as soon as possible.

"Commander?"

The door stops slightly ajar, before Link opens it again. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Please send a courier to tell my council I wish to meet on the hour."

"Will do, Your Majesty."

-o0o-

The evening is filled with primping and cleaning away the last several weeks of travel, just to fix myself back into the queenly role I need to resume.

My eyes find my reflection in the mirror as one my of maids winds my damp hair into an intricate knot. I see that my skin is a shade or two darker, and there's a faint smattering of freckles across my nose. With makeup, the evidence of my weeks spend outdoors will be gone, but I can't help a small smile knowing I'm a littler tanner. The streaks of light chestnut in my hair are even lighter now as well, standing out against the dark strands.

But when my maids finish their work, and I stand in fine skirts in front of the mirror with my eyes lined with kohl and nose dusted with makeup, it's hard to imagine that same woman in the reflection is a traveler at heart. Especially when a maid places my golden circlet onto the crown of my head.

Afterwards, I rush to the council room as quickly as possible, two guards marching behind me as escorts.

The meeting is filled with relieved smiles and ouraged exclamations, but I explain to my members that I have visited the three Springs of the Golden Goddesses, and they all listen in awe. Velar argues that such a journey without a group of guards is dangerous, but I assure him that I was just as safe without.

"All you had was that strange wolf," Velar remarks, and I tell him that wolf is beyond any regular beast.

After calming the council members down and answering questions, I set about proposing changes that I deem vital to Hyrule's prosperity, as well as planning an open court tomorrow afternoon.

The meeting ends up running until the sun sets beneath the horizon, and I leave the room feeling equally exhausted as I feel gratified from the successful propositions I offered.

I can't wait to tell Link, I think automatically, and nearly stop in my tracks through the hallway.

We're back to our normal lives now. We have resumed our position as queen and commander, and are no longer simply Zelda and Link. There will be formality between us once again, and our duties will limit the amount of time we can spend with one another. Sure, Link is commander of my Royal Guard, but he still interacts with me minimally. His time is spent training soldiers and leading his knights, not dappling in politics and social niceties like I am.

As I enter my bedchamber for the night, I heave a sigh. I need to make some changes, it seems.

Especially if we are to marry, I think mentally. But what if he doesn't want to wed? Being my husband would bring a massive weight of responsibility onto his shoulders. He could simply be prince consort, but even then he would be tied down socially. He would no longer be able to wander Hyrule as a simple adventurer.

My chest becomes constricted with doubt. He may have admitted to loving me...but that does not guarantee he will want to marry me and share me with the kingdom.

I remove my jewelry and dress into a nightgown. I try to focus on how nice it is to sleep on my bed again as I settle down beneath the silk covers, willing my exhausted mind to find rest.

But my mind is too busy, flitting over thoughts and plans and memories.

Most of all, my thoughts keep returning to Haika.

If things had been different, or if I tried harder, would she have been able to find happiness? Satisfaction?

Her motives were driven by an understandable want. She sought justice for her people, for the Sheikah that are so misunderstood among Hyruleans. Fate had scorned her, allowing her to be the daughter of a king but never to taste the power of the throne.

My throat tightens with unshed tears. I thought I was the last of my family still alive, and all along my lost sister was still walking in this realm.

I should have watched her more closely, sat closer so I could have stopped her from running into the desert—

I sit up in my bed, placing my forehead in my palms and forcing myself to take a calming breath.

Stop blaming yourself, I scold myself.

Lifting my head, I peer around my room. It feels so empty and uninviting despite the roaring fire in the hearth, filled with nothing but still air and my loud thoughts. Mechanically, I swing my bare feet onto the carpeted floor and stand. I cross the room in a couple strides, placing my hand of the cold doorknob to the servant's door. Unlocking it, I swing the door open and exit out into the dark castle hallways.

It's considerably chillier out here compared to my bedchamber from the late autumn weather seeping through the stone walls. Hugging my arms to myself for warmth, I sneak my way through the castle, following all the secret hallways and tunnels that I discovered in my youth.

With Haika, I add with a twinge of sadness.

But now, I don't allow myself to press the melancholic memories away where they'll fester and build in the back of my head. I acknowledge my sorrow like greeting an old friend, and allow myself to recall the happy days when Haika and I were still close, remembering the warmth of summertime and the sound of innocent laughter. The nostalgia warms me.

Eventually, my feet lead me to a whole separate wing from where my chambers are. Careful to avoid any late night guards or drunk knights, I count the doors along the left side of the hallway until I reach the end.

Uncertain, I place my hand on the doorknob of the last door in the corridor. I glance once behind me, satisfied to see the view empty. Then, I push the door open, mildly surprised to find it unlocked.

I've only ever been in Link's quarters once, and it was only to escort him to them when he first accepted his position as commander of the Royal Guard. Then, it had been a bare room with no personal touch. A blank slate.

But as I press the door closed behind me, I see the quarters are nothing like they were. There's little hints of Link everywhere, like homespun wool blankets draped across an old wood chair, a series of swords hanging over his bed, and little sketches scattered on top an alder desk. There's a surprisingly tall stack of books beside the desk, each with worn covers and cracked spines.

He's polishing his a sword near a window. When he hears the click of the door, his head snaps in my direction and his grip tightens on the hilt of the sword. But as soon as Link realizes who it is, his posture relaxes and he leans the sword against the wall.

"Zelda," he smiles gently, tilting his head in curiosity and uncertainty.

At first, words seem to evade me. He's dressed in only a loose undershirt untucked from his trousers, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He seems to glow in the firelight, and looks entirely too enticing. My blood burns, and it takes several beats before I can think of something intelligible to say.

"I couldn't sleep," I say, suddenly feeling shy.

He hums thoughtfully, leaning against the window and refusing to look anywhere but my face. "You and me both, it seems."

I suddenly feel very bare, dressed in only my thin nightgown.

A strange silence hangs in the air once again, and I realize we're both wondering the same thing.

Why am I here?

I carefully step across the room, Link watching my movement. In a few strides, I'm at his side. Upon looking out the window, I realize the stars are barely visible from here. If I think hard enough, I can almost imagine the bright expanse of the night sky from the Gerudo Desert. It never seemed truly dark there with the stars winking down toward the sands. But with the thought of the desert surfaces a morbid image of my sister's body, and I hug my arms to myself to bring back the warmth.

The nagging reminder of my sister's death hangs in the back of my head, refusing to be ignored. Per habit, I nearly shove the emotion away along with the thought, but I stop myself.

No more burying the pain.

"I can't stop thinking about her," I whisper to the dim stars after a moment. "Everytime I close my eyes, I keep trying to think of different scenarios; things I could have done."

Link is silent beside me, and I take his quietness as a confirmation to continue.

"I can't even bring myself to be angry for her actions against me. I wish..." I sigh, shaking my head. "I wish things could have been different."

As I glance at Link out of the corner of my eye, I see his gaze wander the dark sky thoughtfully. I wait, knowing he will speak when he decides on his words.

"Will you carry out her wishes?"

I blink, furrowing my eyebrows. She sought my throne to have the power she felt belonged to her. But she also sought to avenge her people who have been discriminated against for ages.

But it hadn't always been this way, had it? My family's history tells of a time when the Sheikah served the royal family loyally until paranoia set in among my predecessors, driving them to destroy the alliance.

"I will reband her people," I decide. "Offer them a chance of success once again."

"And if your people don't approve?"

I frown at that. "That certainly is a possibility. But time and time again we have seen that Hyrule is at its strongest when all the races are united."

He turns from looking out the window to smile fondly at me. The look makes my heart tremble.

"I have no doubt that you'll be able to unite Hyrule."

"I do," I voice quietly, hesitantly. "I am only one woman. One that failed my people once before."

"If they blame you for the Invasion, they are utter fools, Zelda," Link says with a sudden passion.

I don't say anything. Doesn't that make me a fool then? I certainly blame myself. I was weak, unable to fortify my kingdom enough to withstand a usurper. The shame of surrendering still burns me even now, after the crisis.

There were many days that I convinced myself that I deserved the abuse Ganondorf inflicted, that the cuts and bruises were a justified consequence for my weakness.

Without thinking, I lift my fingers and trace the faint scars along my ribs and stomach beneath the fabric of my thin nightdress. Dark memories surface of Ganondorf pressing a dagger to my stomach, either smiling twistedly or snarling threats in rage.

As though he can read my thoughts, Link turns fully to me now. His eyes fall down to my hand on my ribs, and a realization dawns in his eyes. He slowly takes my chin in his hand, gently forcing me to meet his eyes. His gaze is studious and sorrowful as he peers down at me.

"Zelda, what did he do to you?" His voice is low, and wavers as he asks.

I nearly crumble.

All I can do is shake my head against his fingers. I move my hand away from my scars and instead grasp his free hand with both of mine.

"Someday," I promise him. "Someday. But not now. I can't."

I meet his gaze with sincerity. I want so badly to tell him, but I still have to mend my kingdom before I can indulge in unloading my burdens. And even now, after three years, it's still too fresh. It hurts to even think about, let alone speak about.

Looks of disappointment and understanding flit through his clear eyes. He sighs, and leans his forehead against mine. I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on the contact to distract from traumatizing memories clawing for my attention.

"I'll be waiting," Link whispers.

"I know."

He leans back just far enough to look at my eyes, then presses a gentle kiss on my nose.

"My stubborn queen" he sighs, and pulls me against him. He rests his chin on my head, and I listen to his steady heartbeat and beg my heart to slow down as well. But it only begins pounding harder as I voice a question quietly against his throat.

"Can I stay?"

I can feel his breath hitch, and my face immediately burns with embarrassment. Instantly, I regret my bold words and feel the need to flee at once. Refusing to meet his eyes, I pull away to hastily explain myself.

"I mean, not in any dishonorable way—I just—I can't...I sleep better with you near and—"

Link presses his fingers gently to my lips to halt my frantic tumble of words. Silently he moves his hand to take mine and leads me to his bed. He releases my hand to move the covers away, climbs in, and then reaches out for me to follow.

Face still burning, I hesitate and stare at his outstretched hand. The gentle light from the hearth casts shadows on the crisscross of scars on his fingers and palm. Silently, I place my hand in his and allow him to lead me closer. I settle in next to him and wind my arms around his waist as he pulls the duvet over us. He shifts to place his arms around me and I nestle my face against his chest. His heart is pounding just as erratically as mine.

I am the queen, I shout internally at myself, at the fragment of girlish desire driving me to stay. An unmarried queen does not lie in a man's bed.

But despite my fading embarrassment, I can feel comfort and a sense of safety relaxing my limbs. No matter how hard I try to reason with myself, I can't seem to feel any inkling of regret for asking Link if I could stay.

Exhaustion from a long day begins to settle in and fogs my mind.

"This is completely uncouth," I mutter against his shirt. I feel his chuckle rumble from inside his chest, and I grin sleepily.

"You're the queen. Don't you decide what is proper?"

"Definitely."

"But what if I'm a pig of a man?"

I trust Link more than any man to keep me safe through the night, and to respect my chastity with the same honor that proves of his competence for his position as commander. Any other man I may have questioned….but Link is beyond any regular man I've ever met.

"I told you. Men are pigs. But there are a few exceptions."

Link chuckles again, a sound that warms me to my toes. He sighs contentedly, then presses a kiss into my hair.

"Good night, my love."

The affection is nearly enough to jolt me completely awake again, and I grin stupidly against his chest. I am hopeless lovestruck, I sigh internally. I allow the warm elation to warm me to my core.

"Good night."

Chapter Text

The next several weeks are filled with long meetings and audiences as I make changes. The court buzzes like a busy hive from the news of the movement I'm making to reunite Hyrule's races and villages.

There's an expected shock that shakes the kingdom when I reveal the Gerudo are, in fact, still alive and barely surviving in the desert. At first, many lords and ladies expressed their disgust for the race in memory of the war long ago, but I tell them that I have visited the women myself and can testify they are no longer under Ganondorf's spell and are not hostile. It will take time for the women to become integrated back into Hylian society, but I am willing to wait.

Kaavu brought herself and delegates to the castle to negotiate and bring word from Gerudo Town, and the members of court and townspeople openly gaped at the tall, bronze-skinned desert women. On their first visit, many people steered clear of the guests, remaining wary.

But by the following weeks of Gerudo arriving and leaving the castle, many men became overtly interested in the intimidating women. The delegates, though on business for their chief, showed clear delight at being under the curiosity of the Hylian men.

I also work to strengthen ties with the humans in the south, including Ordon Village and the farming country. Their rich soil and crops would be invaluable to Hyrule, and in return we can trade enhanced tools and materials that are sparse in their lands.

Renovations begin on Castletown to accommodate the many new races flooding the busy capital, including new infrastructure and a clean canal system to support Zora visitors and shops for Gorons to sell their wares from Death Mountain. Construction expands the town, building new market places and buildings for merchants from all corners of Hyrule, including the Gerudo to sell their valuable gems and innovations.

I also work with cartographers to map the locations of the Springs in hopes of making them more accessible to the rest of Hyrule and allow worship to the goddesses. They will be monitored closely by priests, however, to ensure their power is not abused again.
Upon pouring over history books in the castle's library, I discover that there is a ritual to purify fabric enough to enter the water of the Springs without unraveling. I offer a seamstress the job to make cuts of robes and dresses from white fabric to gift to priests to perform the purification ritual, thus selling them in Castletown for travelers heading to the Springs.

I approach my council about re-banding the Sheikah and creating a place for them in Hyrule's new united society. The proposal was received with distaste at first, but slowly the members become more open to the concept.

Not for the first time, I thank my council members for their open minds.

So, the slow process begins of finding the remaining Sheikah people hiding across the land, and offering them refuge at Castletown and Kakariko. The tension between Hylians and the Sheikah is tangible, and it will take time and patience to mend.

But time heals better than any medicine.

-Four Months Later-

My days are busy and stressful to say the least.

And yet, I can't seem to concentrate on the pile of paperwork on my desk. I thrum my fingers on the wood, trying to will myself to focus.

But my mind keeps wandering to certain pair of clear blue eyes, and my chest warms.

Sighing in defeat, I close the inkwell and place my quill down and stand to my feet.

"Lae?" I call through my study, and in a couple heartbeats Impaz's granddaughter, with ruby eyes and hair the color of snow, appears enters the room with a bow. I offer a small smile of thanks to the Sheikah girl, ever eager to help.

"Will you send a messenger to the Commander?"

Lae's eyes spark with a mix of excitement and mischief. "Of course, My Lady."

I explain to her the message, and without a word more, she hurries off to do ask I requested.

With a sigh, I shake my head fondly. Link and I had decided to keep our courtship discreet, but the gossipers always seem to discover the quietest of secrets. Lae is too mature to indulge in spreading rumors, I know, but she still asks me curiously about Link and I. The most I ever offer in reply is a sly smile or elusive shrug of my shoulder, to which she giggles.

Not even a half hour later, I find myself in the royal stables, saddling up my faithful horse. I hear a soft footfall behind me, and I spin around to catch Link's arm before he startles me. I glare halfheartedly up at his mirthful face.

"You'll have to be more quiet than that to surprise me."

He simply grins, and dips to kiss the end of my nose affectionately.

In only a couple moments longer, we are racing out of the castle gates, startling stray birds as we fly by on our horses. I revel in the small amount of freedom after arduous months spent in the castle, breathing in the hint of spring in the air. The crisp wind blows back the stray pieces of hair from my face, and my heart beats in time with my horse's hooves.

In record time, we arrive at the stone ruins just west of Castletown. Link helps me swing off of my horse, and together we climb down the ancient steps and find our way to the crumbling barrier. I lean my elbows on the stone, overlooking the breathtaking view of Lake Hylia in the distance.

Link joins my side, looking out across the landscape with a content smile on his face. I resist the strong urge to kiss him, instead staring out at the small expanse of sand that is the Gerudo Desert in the west.

"Your movement is working remarkably," Link says after a while. "I don't think Hyrule has been this united in several generations."

"I am glad," I breath. But "glad" is an understatement. "I owe the success to my people. They have been unfailingly open and accepting."

"They have a brilliant and kind queen to keep their hearts open and optimistic."

"There is only so much I can do on my own," I say softly, hoping he'll read into my words. He looks down at my curiously, though his eyes are strangely guarded.

"A queen is not meant to rule on her own," he mentions cautiously, and I don't respond.

Instead, I stare back at the clear water of the lake far below. My heartbeat begins to quicken as I consider my next words.

I've been practicing them for weeks, trying to decide what I will say to him. But now, standing alone at his side and him waiting patiently for me to speak, all my words seem jumbled. With a steeling breath, I look at him out of the corner of my eye and try to remain composed.

"Link..." I begin shyly, grasping onto my courage. "If I were to…if..."

His eyes are trained unwaveringly on my face.

Here goes nothing.

"If I were to ask you to marry me—"

"I would say yes without hesitation," he says resolutely, and I turn fully to him now it a mix of amusement and surprise. His eyes are filled in open delight and anticipation, and I fight the urge to smile at his boyish excitement.

"Even if it meant taking on the yoke of royalty? If it meant you were bound to Hyrule's fate for the rest of your life? Being king?"

"If it means I am at your side and serving my kingdom, then yes."

Sudden tears spring to my eyes at his unwavering devotion. Being married to me will bring a crushing responsibility upon him, but he shows no concern for it. Already, he shows promising leadership skills by being commander. Surely that can be kindled into the strength of a king?

"Are you asking me then?" He asks, suddenly uncertain upon seeing my tears.

I bite back my emotion, and offer him a watery smile. Tenderly, I take his hands in my own and place one of them over my pounding heart, allowing him to feel it beneath my ribs. My fingers find the pulse on his wrist, and I feel his blood pounding almost as wildly as mine.

"Link, will you marry me and become my king?"

"Yes."

I allow my lips to lift into a smile as I pull him down to meet them, winding my arms around his neck. He sighs happily against my mouth.

In that moment, I realize a something I haven't felt in ages.

The world seems bright and promising.

-EPILOGUE-

A gentle glow of warmth slowly glides up my arm as I mentally count the minutes, lying with my eyes closed and breaths measured. As I lie still, hardly awake but not quite asleep, I just feel. It's rare moments like these when I'm allowed a moment to pause that I feel the need to absorb my surroundings. Thoughtless.

My fingers trace the seam in my pillow case idly, and I listen to the rhythmic rise and fall of my husband's chest beside me. A piece of my hair flutters against my cheek as I exhale.

Link murmurs something in his sleep and stirs, and at last I open my eyes. For a moment, I blink against the morning light filtering through the curtains of our bedchambers and allow my eyes to adjust. He turns onto his back in his sleep, a sigh passing from his parted lips.

Silently, I prop myself up onto my elbows and lean towards him. Mindlessly, I smooth his hair from his face, a smile tugging at my lips as I watch his peaceful expression. He murmurs again upon feeling my touch, his lips quirking slightly in sleep. I dip and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and close my eyes once again. This time, I allow the emotion of appreciation and contentedness to overwhelm my thoughts.

Slowly, he rouses from his sleep with a yawn. His eyes part to meet mine, and I offer him a sleepy smile. Mirroring my expression, he trails his hand thoughtlessly along my back.

"It feels odd not having to rush off to a meeting immediately," he admits, his voice low from sleep. I hum in agreeance as I press another kiss to his jaw. A breath escapes his lips and grazes my cheekbone, and I shiver.

In a languid movement, Link sits up against the pillows and draws me into his lap and presses me tightly to him. With an amused grin, I cup his face in my palms. He only offers me a withering look before pulling my face down to kiss me hungrily. I allow my hands to slide through his hair as his trail along the contours of my body, each of us desperately expressing our desire and love for each other through each breathless kiss and wandering touch.

He breaks ands allows me to catch my breath as he continues to trail hot kisses down my throat, down toward the low neckline of my nightgown, down-

There's a faint thud outside our bedchamber, and I barely have time to fix my nightgown before another thud sends the main door crashing open.

The wood thuds noisily against the wall as an energetic character bounds her way to our bed, untamed locks of hair trailing behind her in a banner of blonde.

"Papa!" She exclaims, all smiles and glee as she hops on her toes at our bedside. Reluctantly, Link and I break apart to help our daughter clamber her way onto the bed.

"Yes?" Link inquires, amused as Malon hops her way to him. He barely has time to steady himself as she barrels into him with a giddy giggle.

"You promised you'd take Rina and me to ride the horses today," she reminds him. Impatient, she begins chanting "come on!" as she tugs on her father's arm. Link gives an exaggerated sigh.

"So demanding, you are," he teases and wrestles Malon off of his arm, and begins mercilessly poking at her stomach, her arms. She releases a bought of shrieks and giggles and she hopelessly waves his attacks away, collapsing to the bed.

"Kaavu might begin to think we spoil you too much," he adds as Malon begins clambering her way to me for respite. I draw her into my arms, smoothing away the disarrayed hair out of her violet-blue eyes. She offers me a frustrated pout, though the look is undone with the twinkle of mirth in her eyes.

"Papa promised Rina and me both. He's not allowed to break promises."

"By whose decree?" I inquire, giving her a teasing smile.

"Mine. As princess."

"I may be wrong, Your Highness," Link interjects, "but I believe that rulemaking is your mother's and my job."

Malon turns to give him a unintimidating scowl, her nose crinkling comically. Link can't help but chuckle at the endearing expression, drawing close to press a kiss to the end of her pink nose. He hugs the two of us closely, an easy smile on his lips.

"So you'll take us?" Malon asks eagerly.

"As long as Lady Kaavu is all right with it."

Malon's eyes light up, and immediately she squirms her way out of my arms and pushes past Link to hop her way off our bed.

"I'll go ask her," she decides eagerly, hardly waiting for a response before skipping her way across the bedchamber toward the door.

"Be sure that your nanny fixes you up first," I call as I watch her mess of hair race to the doorway.

"And close the door on your way out, love," Link adds as he hugs my hip flush against his. Malon shouts back a curt "all right!", and heaves the elaborate door closes behind her, sealing quietness into the chamber once more.

"And take your time getting ready," Link murmurs to the closed door as his hand trails wantonly along my nightgown. With a laugh, I clasp my arms around his neck and tug him back to meet me in the bed sheets.

THE END