Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     The Chief’s loyal guards, Dorian with his hands still placed lightly on the door and Cado standing tensely at his back, shifted their eyes between the chief, her granddaughter and the hero. They all had different expressions carved across their faces. Paya’s was of hopeful sadness, Impa’s neutral, but it was the Link’s that surprised them. Fear flooded his wide eyes, pupils like tiny islands about to be swallowed by the raging sea. His breath stopped. 

     He could do nothing but slowly shift his gaze downward, hands shaking by his sides. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her again. Not like that. He tried to still the storm he felt caught in; tried to think of her lovely face, her sunlight smile, her eyes more green than the rolling Hyrule Field. How she appeared before her death had become a fuzzy mess of yellow hair and undefined features. Empty sockets haunted his recollection.

     With a nod of approval from his mistress, Dorian strode over on soft feet and laid his coat over Link’s back. The fabric was warm and sturdy like broadcloth yet nowhere near as heavy, and as soon as he’d started his crying stopped. He signed his apology with a tremble. Unfazed, Dorian rubbed circles into his back until his breathing returned to a steady pace, and the storm of his fear settled out of his gaze. Link tried to thank him profusely, but was brushed off as he made his way back down the steps with Cado offered the hero a slightly confused but supportive glance. Link almost chuckled, and he would have were it not for the weight of everything on his back. He could still feel the panic on the edges of his mind, which alarmed him, but he shoved it down into the depths of his consciousness best he could. Which wasn't very well, it seemed. He felt he did few things very well now.

     'It's bad,' Link warned his companions, 'really, really bad.'

     Paya just smiled at him reassuringly, running a tender hand down his arm as she walked by.

     The door closed behind her and she screamed.

     She had sounded just like that. Link didn't want to see the memory that brought itself to the forefront of his thoughts, the final moment's of his closest friend's life, but it burned itself into the back of his retinas. It started with fire that slunk its way around her before climbing up her dress and into her hair, the sizzling of melting fat, her skin blistering, her muscles and sinew growing taut. The last thing she recalled was the feeling of her eyes melting and her bones shattering in the heat, near deafened by her own dying wails. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair!

     Link hadn't been present enough in reality to notice when Impa had caught his hands and laid his head against her frail body. He didn't cry, didn't scream—couldn't if he wanted to anyway—he hardly even moved. Flames that weren't there flashed in and out of his vision, the heat almost tangible against his skin. The hero didn't feel very brave shrinking into Impa the way he was, away from a blaze that only existed in his downward spiral of the recollection. Fire, drowning, lightning, suffocation, injury, a thousand versions of his own demise came from a dark corner somewhere in the depths of his soul. The old woman squeezed Link gently before explaining, signing herself for privacy, that what Link just experienced was a symptom of what she called battle shock. She told him everything she could remember and he absorbed the knowledge intently. According to her own experience it was most common among soldiers, often starting as nightmares that could quickly devolve into insanity that played tricks on the psyche. She answered his questions without judgement and ensured his understanding. He was ill, yes, but illness could be healed even if one never fully recovers. It calmed him, much to his old friend's relief, so she instructed him to get some rest. Link did so without complaint, barely able to keep himself standing on his short walk from the Chief's door to his bed at the inn. He fell into it, asleep before he ever landed.

     Returning to the waking world was more difficult than trudging through the muck that was the bottomless pond. His dream clung to his mind like a cobweb, leaving the hero more confused and tired than he’d been arriving in Kakariko. It was truly an odd dream, more so than the ones that had plagued his century-long slumber. He found himself on a hillside, staring up at a woman he was sure he’d never met, but who seemed somehow familiar. He still didn’t know who she was. She was majestic with an air of authority, hair red like a sunset and her skin of black and white decorated in geometric lines that almost imperceivably glowed blue. He heard himself speaking as though from far outside his body, and though he couldn't understand what was said it made the woman laugh. She turned to him and stoked his hair fondly...

     Before he was dragged mercilessly back to reality. 

     Link sat up, rubbing his eyes with a body screaming in protest while he thought to himself. Who was she, and why did he seem to recall her? How her face looked was a mystery to him, but for reasons unknown he was sure of her unapologetically smug grin and the vibrancy of her cackle. He shook his head. 

     One strange woman in a dream couldn't mean much. There were more important things for him to worry about, namely how he could prevent his condition of battle shock from getting any worse. The Zora, of course, it was only natural that they'd be the first choice for such things. Link himself held the people of the Domain in high regard for their welcoming culture and expertise in healing of all kinds. He'd stumbled off the local shrine's travel pad before, broken in all sorts of ways and always returned to his task feeling better than ever. If Zora healers had the skill to set a shattered wrist and have it working again in an hour, surely they had ways to relieve those with other sorts of injuries.

     The only question that remained, but it was by far the most concerning to Link; how to get there safely. While the Domain wasn’t far from Kakariko, he wondered if he’d be able to get that far by himself in such a state. With the increase in his worried thoughts he feared for his safety on the road. He could already feel the stress rising when a soft interruption in the form of a knock on the wall next to him reached his ear. A welcome distraction.

     Claree let herself in, covering her eyes at first and a vibrant pink overtaking her pale skin. Link couldn’t help but chuckle as he motioned her closer. She peeked out from behind her fingers before drawing her hand away.

     “Morning Link,” she said cautiously, “Feeling better?”

     ‘Good morning. I feel okay, thank you.’ He signed to her with a weak grin. She looked intrigued, but it was clear she couldn't understand what he said. Link sighed and simply pointed to the fabric wrapped package he hadn't seen before in her arms, brows furrowed and head tilted to one side. She passed it to him, smiling in her usual vibrant way.

     “I worked all night on this, good as new if I do say so myself!”

     He perked up to those words and peeled open the bundle. Claree was right. His beloved blue tunic was perfect, an exact match to how it looked the day he received it. The embroidery was the finest he'd seen in a long time and the tears had been patched with the utmost precision. Link sprung out of bed and almost squeezed the life out of the poor seamstress. She returned the embrace with a sweet laugh before wheezing out that she couldn’t breathe. The hero released her and held her hands instead, trying to look apologetic but unable to contain his smile. A snort, a quick goodbye and another short hug later, she left him holding his shirt like it was made of gold rather than fabric.

     Link had no idea how he would repay her. He didn't feel Rupees held enough value to show his gratitude properly, but there was little else he could think of. Perhaps he could stop in Hateno before leaving for the Domain, gift her some of Sayge's beautiful hand-dyed fabrics for her own designs. She was a wonderfully creative tailor, Link had the privilege to see some of her sketches, all in beautiful shapes and shades he wouldn't have thought to put together. But he was getting distracted again. 

     He... no, they today, dressed quickly in the most black they could find. Link wasn’t a fan of wearing black. It made their already pale skin look ashen and sickly, but a few pieces of Gerudo-made gold jewellery neutralized the effect. It wasn’t by much, but their plain black sweater and trousers looked better that way. Though pleased with their appearance, no confident smirk crossed their face. It felt so strange to see themself alone in the reflection, no Zelda to tug their hair and tell them they looked like a feast for the eyes or double over and smack their shoulder playfully.

     She was fading from the hero's memory all too quickly.

     They shook their head as they turned away from the mirror and it's noticeable feeling of lacking, mouthing encouragement to themself. Everything would be fine, and even if it wasn’t they had people to rely on now. There would be no more lonely nights camping on the cold, uncaring earth. Link could go anywhere they pleased and always be met with kindness. It eased their pain, if only a little.

     The day was pink and warm, the rising sun lighting the sky in Zelda's favourite colour. Link pulled in a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air. They stretched with a satisfying pop in their back, but froze when a blur of red came fast in their direction. The hero tried to dodge out of the way, but found themself scooped into a crushing embrace that lifted them off the ground. Feeling fretful and dizzy, they took in the face of their captor and smiled wide.

     ‘Sidon!’ Link signed happily, throwing their arms around his long neck. He laughed boisterously as he always did.

     “Link, my dear friend! It is so wonderful to see you again!”

     They didn’t get a chance to ask how he'd arrived so quickly. A small yet powerful voice like a lightning strike caught their ear.

     “Try not to squeeze him to death before I get my turn.”

     Link wriggled out of Sidon’s strong arms and ran up to Riju, putting their arms carefully around her shoulders. It only took another moment before Yunobo and Teba were coming down the path. They almost started crying seeing their companions again, and all together no less. Yunobo and Teba both greeted them, and before Link could argue against it the four of them wrapped the hero into a collective embrace. They may have made a disgruntled snort, but truthfully Link felt better than they had in a long time. After the group let go Sidon interpreted for the rest who were still learning sign language.

     “How have you been? How did you get here so quickly?” The Zora said, watching Link carefully for their words and tone. They noted that he was certainly getting better, and it was lovely to see that he'd practiced so much. 

     “It was urgent, so of course we came as fast as we could.” Teba spoke low. In all of their joy at seeing their new friends again Link had almost forgotten. The hero’s smile fell and they nodded solemnly. Yunobo piped up next.

     “We all got letters that we needed to come here right away, goro!”

     It pulled on their heartstrings to know that the friends they'd made so recently cared enough to rush to the hero's side when they were in pain. Link thanked each of them for coming on such short notice, hugging them all again. It was a beautiful moment, one that made Link feel light with elation and gratitude when Dorian tapped on their shoulder.

     “It’s almost time.” He whispered.

     They nodded solemnly. While their companions helped lift them up and it being a day to help everyone who loved her heal, this was going to be the biggest challenge Link would face yet. That feeling of relief fled their heart so fast it sank like a stone, so much so that they felt it would drop out of their chest at any moment. Sidon gently put his hand on Link’s arm, Yunobo’s on their back. It lifted some of the burden again.

    “You gonna be okay?” Yunobo asked, face soft and concerned for his friend. Link could only smile weakly and swing themself onto their steed, petting her mane. 

     Irch Plain was a little over halfway across the country, so they left almost immediately after the short greetings passed between hero and . The procession was short at first, but the further they got along the road the more people joined them. Merchants and ambassadors alike rode with them, following as Cado and Dorian pulled a humble cart. The princess’s casket was nothing more than a box, her name and honors scratched into the wood. Despite the very few of those accompanying their trek who were old enough to remember her, every resident of Kakariko and villages across the land had gathered offerings for her to take to the beyond. Silent Princesses, named for Zelda herself, enshrined her. It touched Link to know that even those who’d never met her showed their love. She was, after all, a loving person to those who knew her and a dedicated heir to the throne of Hyrule with only the wellbeing of the people in mind. The thought of what Zelda would do about the governance of the country without a royal family crossed Link's mind, but they disregarded it. That was something that could be fretted over another time. 

     The road was relatively flat and no monsters disturbed their morose journey, but Link stayed alert nonetheless. They'd fought Bokoblins, Moblins, Hixones and Guardians what felt like every ten feet for the last six months. Someone had the foresight to clear them out. Whoever they were, the hero was thankful to.

     With no disruptions it was a lovely ride. Upon their arrival a group of Hylians with all varieties of instruments played a slow melody. A familiar one that soothed the weariness of all in attendance. Link remembered the princess humming it to herself every so often, while reading or writing her findings down, though whenever they’d ask her about it she flushed and shook her head. They recalled Zelda's childhood tutor, a wonderful woman by the name of Ida, explaining what the tune meant to his friend. It was an old song. One so ancient that none knew it's origin, but it was rumored to have been kept solely to the royals as a lullaby for their children. Generations of Hyrulean monarchs were raised hearing it. It only made sense to lay Zelda to rest with it's gentle sound. 

     As they slid off Epona's back Teba came to put his wing around Link’s shoulders.

     “She loved you, you know.” He said gently. Link nodded their agreement, signing something that Teba didn’t understand. He looked up at Sidon.

     “We loved each other, like siblings. I still love her.”

     Teba nodded sagely and squeezed the hero gently before guiding them to stand before everything. The five Champions were front and center, all tense around the casket as Impa layed a bouquet of Silent Princess' over it. Irch Plain was a wonderful place to be buried, always full of the most beautiful wildflowers in spring. Link themself had always loved the place. Blooms of every colour imaginable could be seen and a light breeze brushed though the long grass. A lone tree on the southwest side of the field was to be Zelda’s final resting place, her grave freshly dug and a stone already placed above it. That moment made her death real for Link, and they braced their arms across their chest. They weren't ready. Of course death came for all, but they'd expected Zelda to pass of old age another hundred years from then. Her life was cut so short. She had so many discoveries to make, so much knowledge to gain and share, so many questions to answer. She never even got to celebrate her seventeenth birthday before she was pushed forward, stumbling blindly into her role as Goddess incarnate. She didn't even know what it meant to be Hylia's descendant, let alone how to control her powers. 

     Link's declining thoughts were silenced when they felt themself pressed up against Sidon's leg with a cool hand on their upper back. They looked up into his face, worn down from the grief of it all, but smiling nonetheless. They signed a simple thank you, though it didn't show the true depth of how meaningful of a gesture it was.

     Impa raised her hands to calm the soft music and the chatter of all in mourning before she spoke. “It is a sad day for our kingdom,” she began weakly, “but we gather here to celebrate the life of Her Majesty, Princess Zelda Auralia Hyrule. She was a light for us all, kind and graceful in everything she did. We will now send our prayers to her spirit, that her ancestors may guide her to a peaceful beyond.”

     The Sheikah elder began reciting in the language of her people, a slow and elegant sound that dripped from her tongue. Link listened, understanding what she said as though by second nature. The prayer was one he only remembered hearing once, at the ceremony held after the late Queen's passing. They hadn't understood the words then, seeing as Link was only seven at the time and not a very good student. They ignored the tremor in the old Chief's voice very well, or so they thought before Riju reached for their hand and grasped it tightly. Link didn’t dare look at her, knowing there would be pity in her vibrant eyes of emerald. They could feel it, her watching them with trepidation. The hero ignored the sensation that her gaze was burning a hole through their cheek.

     Link hardly even noticed when Impa motioned them to step forward, Sidon again acting as translator, to speak to the crowd. They hesitated, but with a large hand placed squarely between their shoulders Link felt their bravery returning and addressed the people. 

     “Zelda and I did not get along when we first met." The Prince repeated Link's words with a perfect gentile to his tone. "She hated the idea of being babysat by someone she considered competition, especially so after I obtained the Master Sword. It took a long time to gain her trust and friendship. When I did, she became my sun, my moon, my world. I love her more than anything, even now. I protected her like I would a younger sister. She and I shared many secrets and laughed together about everything and nothing. Though I could not save her…” Link shook their head, trying to hold back tears. The Zora at their side rubbed circles into their back with a thumb and it soothed them.

     "Though I could not save her, I will forever cherish the memories we created."

     Link continued on for a while, Sidon chuckling every so often as he spoke, as they enthralled all in attendance. Zelda was a much more captivating and genuine person anyone thought possible. She laughed and meant it, she teased and joked, she cried and screamed and fell only to get up again. She was imperfect, and it made her all the more tangible. It made her demise all the more raw. 

     For a long while her closest friend simply sat against the Princess' headstone, long after most had already departed and she'd been buried. It was almost as though they were sitting back-to-back like they would before the Calamity. Link’s breath wheezed out in a chuckle, suddenly remembering a story Zelda had told about a specific Zora princess. Link thought about all of the conversations they could remember until the sun was almost down. Sidon had stayed behind to keep an eye on his friend and went over to them. He’d expected to see tears, but Link smiled softly to themself.

     “Rupee for your thoughts?” He sighed as he sat next to his friend. They shook their head lightly before signing.

     ‘She tried to make me eat a frog here once.’

     “Really? The princess did?”

     Link puffed out another short laugh before Sidon encouraged them to their feet and they walked back to Kakariko, talking all the way.