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Chapter Text

     He was exhausted.

     Every part of him was sore. Blood poured down his face from the reopened wound on his cheek. His precious blue tunic was threadbare and filthy. Ash and grime clung to his hair. Link was in no condition to make such an important, solemn, life-altering announcement. He needed somewhere safe to lay his head and possibly a bath, even a stream to at least make himself more presentable. The river sparkled invitingly as he rode over Rebonae bridge, but he dismissed the thought.

     Though the hero hardly had the strength to sit upright and guide his steed, Link spurred her ever faster, stared numbly ahead as the pillars of Levia came into view. Epona raced up the hill without a care in the world. The poor boy’s mind was full of dread. He had such precious little time to come to terms with it himself. Though he was victorious in his efforts, saving Hyrule and returning Ganon to his seal in one fell swoop, he felt it was empty. The pain and suffering the beast caused was over, and for that he was grateful, but so much had been lost over the century-long near end of all the world. He gripped the reins so tightly they cut into his already battered hands. He could practically feel the smoke pouring out of his ears as he contemplated a simple question.

     What do I tell them?

     Link worded his message mentally, changing it's rhythm again and again. He gnawed at the inside of his cheek. What to tell them, the people who waited so hopefully for the triumphant return of those who ended the scourge against the kingdom? How could he be forced to relay something so horrendous? Impa flashed through his mind then, her face was struck with grief, with disappointment, with resentment for Link and his survival… He leaned into Epona's strong neck, his face nestled in her mane. His courage was failing him. Fear coursed through his body like venom, burned into his lungs and heart, set his thoughts ablaze. He couldn't do it, he had to do it, he couldn't bear the visions of all those who knew her mourning. No, no, no!

     It was then that he heard them. The wooden talismans clicking overhead sent him spiralling. Usually they soothed his weariness, knowing friendly faces and kind words always awaited him. The gentle smirks of Dorian and Cado as the three bantered over who cheated when they last played cards—though no one ever had—and the laughter they shared. Koko and Cottla running about on wispy breaths of their own delighted screams. Even Pikango, though he never looked up from his latest painting, would greet him. Link couldn’t stand that levity now as his horse strode under the arch marking the village entrance. He shrunk under the ever watchful eye at its peak, as though it saw right through him, to the depths of his soul where he harboured all of his guilt and shame for arriving alone. His heart beat so strongly against his chest it felt as though it would leap straight past his bones, his breath came quick and shallow, he shook more violently than Death Mountain before it erupted. Despite how long he’d taken to ride there, he hadn't been able to decided on what he should say. Cool sweat rolled down his spine. Paya spotted him from the deck of her grandmother's home and rushed down the stairs, waving one arm high over her head and smiling bright like the moon. It only further fuelled the hero's panic, and before he could even think of what to tell her when inevitably asked he fell into strong, awaiting arms.

     When he finally woke, Link jerked to life from a dead sleep and from dreams he hoped to evade. He panted and clawed desperately at his back hoping to catch the hilt of his trusty sword. Paya, who was perched precariously at the end of the bed, took hold of his bare shoulder and shushed him. Were it not for his swift recognition he might have struck her. He stared, wide-eyed and panicked as she spoke.

     “Master Link, you’re badly injured,” Paya explained softly, “so you must remain calm. You’re safe here.”

     He took a deep breath and gingerly pressed his temples, ears ringing, head screaming. Link knew she was right, of course, but the weight of his concern sat in his chest like a stone. He tried to ask his question aloud, but as was usual he choked on the air and gave up.

     ‘What happened?’ He signed slowly, surprised at the painful cuts and bruises in his palms. He hadn’t realized just how much his outburst had effected him. An expression Link wasn't sure he recognize, something between relief and concern, flickered through her red-brown eyes as Paya averted them. She dropped her hands to her lap to twiddle her thumbs.

     “As soon as you rode into town you collapsed. You’ve been asleep ever since.”

     Link heaved a sigh before he dared ask how long he’d been out for.

     “Two days.” The Sheikah woman said, fretfully checking his face. To her surprise, however, Link was neutral. He took a long breath, expression sharp, and asked her where his things were. His tunic and weapons, his shields and bows. She explained cautiously that Claree was working tirelessly on mending his shirt, and Cado had the kindness to hold on to his gear while Link got the rest he desperately needed. Of course she'd arranged for everything. While she often seemed ditzy and shy to those who didn't know her, Paya was no such thing. Organized, efficient and kind beyond measure when comfortable. Link thanked her profusely, to which she placed a hand on her face in embarrassment. Another moment passed before she excused herself, promising a warm bowl of pumpkin soup when she came back. His favourite. He acknowledged the gesture and she smiled again before sliding the inn door shut behind her.

     Now alone, Link dropped his head into his hands and wept more than he'd ever done in his life. 

     The horrifying realization had only hit him then. After all he had recollected about her, after all the renewed fondness he felt, he had failed her once more. His beloved, tragic friend.

     Zelda was dead. He'd refused to believe it when he first encountered her spirit, pleading to him not to feel any sorrow for her. The blue flames that clung to her and the distant echo of her voice made it clear. Everything she had worked for, every ounce of strength she gained in the endless years of her father's insistence that she wasn't trying hard enough, every obstacle put in her way that forced her to prove her worthiness. She was only seventeen, and what reward was she presented with when she'd finally proven to the gods that she was worthy? That she deserved every iota of power her bloodline had claim to? What happened when she finally believed in herself?

     She was killed. Viciously, gruesomely, painfully murdered by a creature that her own abilities were meant to match. She was supposed to live, to be herself again, to come out of that castle the day Link had finally arrived to help her and just be alive... Not that it mattered in the end how things were supposed to happen. She was gone, and there was nothing Link or anyone else could do.      

     He sobbed soundlessly into his palms, salt stinging his wounds, even now failing to respect her final wish and her last command to him as a princess to her loyal knight. Even so, nothing could stop him now. The grief of losing his closest friend was just the final push for him to cry out all the years of pain he never dared to express before. He was a hollow shell of a boy for so long he'd almost forgotten he was human. He wailed in silence for what he felt were hours, and when the tears dried he sat still, back against the wall and looking forward at nothing but the memories they shared flitting across his mind. 

     When Paya returned with the promised soup, a hearty and delectable recipe local to Kakariko, she stared for a moment. She saw that Link was a lifeless husk of himself. The colour had drained from his face, and the intelligent sheen in his eye was long gone. It almost persuaded her to ask about his condition, having never seen him look so far away, but it struck her like lightning. She almost dropped the bowl in shock, but managed to shove it into the hero's hands before scurrying away. 

     The door slammed behind her as she left, shaking the man out of his stupor. Confused, he stared between the door and the bowl, up and down for a moment before the horror of what just happened. She knew. Of course she figured it out, Paya was brilliant, though she often let her lack of confidence conceal this fact. The hero drank as much and as quickly as he dared, foregoing the shirt laid out for him nearby as he ran to catch her and burst through Impa’s door heaving for breath.

     The old woman looked at him, bewildered by the sudden intrusion and his lack of attire. Paya was nowhere to be seen. He signed frantically, asking where she went.

     “She’s upstairs in her room,” Impa said slowly, voice creaking like the old trees of the Lost Woods, “ran past me sobbing. What in Hylia’s name did you do to her?”

     He couldn’t look at her. Instead he kept his eyes downcast, almost trying to memorize the grain of the floorboards. He had no idea how she, as Zelda's best friend, would take his news. His hands trembled so much he feared that the message would be lost in translation, so used one to sign and the other to grip his wrist tightly so it wouldn't shake.

     'I' —he paused for a long breath— 'I'm so, so sorry. I couldn't, I tried, and I...' 

     She watched carefully, face turning from confusion to the same expression Paya had when she explained how he arrived in the village that afternoon. The look of worry and, of all things, repose. When she finally spoke it was low and gentle like Link was a small child who'd made a mistake, not the grown man he was who'd allowed someone so close to them both die.

     “The Royal Family of Hyrule is no more…” Link flinched when she slid down from her tall pile of cushions and began to walk towards him, only to lay her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. She smiled seemingly only to make Link feel better. It didn't make him feel better.

     “You did everything in your power to help her, and you saved us all.” Impa whispered to him. Upon hearing it, that she felt none of the anger he feared, Link sank to his knees and cried again. He barely noticed as she pulled his head to rest on her frail shoulder, running knotted fingers through his hair. They sat there, lamenting the loss of their beloved princess, holding and comforting each other as old friends did. The silence of it all was something Link had been sure would feel awkward, but it never did. He hadn't thought, in all of his time alive, that mourning could be such a comforting experience. The sheer sensation of safety gave him more hope that they'd all be okay in the end than ever before. It was a long while before they felt the need to talk, leading to the hero regaling her with stories some of him and Zelda's quieter, sweeter moments together. Sitting in the silence of Zelda’s study reading, or sharing a meal on the road that she demanded the recipe for, or even the rides they took to Sanadin Park when she needed an ear to listen and a shoulder to lay on. In return he learned many things about who she'd been before they met, of a technologically-gifted girl with more passion for machinery than she'd let on. The two even laughed once or twice, the weight on their hearts just barely lifting the more they reminised.

      She made sure to ask the hero gently about his knowledge of what happened to dear Zelda's body, to which he explained that he'd managed to find it during his raiding of the castle. He offered immediately to retrieve it himself were he provided a cart and some soft blankets, but Impa turned him down and called for Dorian and Cado to do so in his stead. Touched by the gesture he thanked them both profusely and gave detailed instruction on where she was and how to get there most safely. The chief then moved away at last, starting four letters to each of his newfound friends so they could be in attendance of the funeral. Link tried to refuse, citing that he could do so himself, but she shushed him. 

     "You could very well do it yourself, but your handwriting is as horrendous as it was one hundred years ago."

     He laughed, a meagre popping sound without his voice, but he felt it more deeply than he had in quite some time. 

     He'd left Impa's home shortly after a goodbye and a display of gratitude, only to sit outside it on the edge of the lake surrounding the place, lazily watching the Sanke carp glitter under the water's surface. It was a beautiful evening, the golden twilight casting the village in such striking contrast and the light breeze a true comfort. He held up his right hand to the light to better see it's back.

     The Triforce etched into his skin felt wrong, undeserved even if it was necessary for him to have it. The bottom two pieces were more distinct than that of the top, courage and wisdom, his own power—that he hadn't been aware of before the battle— and Zelda's brought together in one being. It offered no solace. It should still have been with her, and her with him, where they could tackle the rebuilding of their country together. He had hoped to name her godmother and aunt to his future children, depending on if he ever found the right person to make such a decision with. Instead he kicked his feet over the high edge of the lake, alone, thinking of all that could've transpired if his dearest friend had only been allowed to survive.

     Paya sat next to him, and though he felt her shoulder against his Link did not greet her. They sat in perfect silence for a moment, both examining his hand.

     “Has that always been there?” She asked, to which he pinched the air with three fingers and made a scooping motion that connected, both palms up with the one on top thumb up.

     ‘No. It’s new.’

     “What happened?”

     Link looked at her, a bit surprised by her boldness, but sighed and simply showed her instead of saying anything more. He pulled one arm back with his knuckles brushing his cheek, the other straight out, and focused intently on what he wanted. Magic sparked through his blood, the mark on his hand glowed white, and with a shimmer he summoned it. The Bow of Light was elegant, sleek, made with a fine filagree in a half-moon shape. He exhaled in relief that he could consistently do such things before he placed in in Paya's arms. She glanced back and forth between him and the bow in utter shock.

     ‘This is the last thing she ever gave me, the ability to defend us all.' The hero signed with an exhausted grin. Magic was surprisingly hard on someone, him to be particular. He wasn't really meant to be a magician it seemed, and while disappointing he didn't mind it much.

     Without warning, Paya snatched Link up by the wrist and dragged him unceremoniously back into Impa’s home, where she sat on her makeshift throne of pillows. She held Link’s hand up to her face, ancient and watery red eyes blowing wide.

     “When did this start?” She asked, only for Paya to interrupt.

     “That’s not all. Look at this!” She held up the bow for her grandmother to take in, who looked in awe of its divine glow. She cupped her hands over her mouth with a long breath in.

     “You have it.” She mumbled.

     Link only nodded, knowing that there was nothing he could really explain that seeing the actual, honest-to-gods Bow of Light couldn't do for him. With a flick of his hand it vanished in another shower of light, much to both women's amazement. It was nice to see them feeling so hopeful, but it was just for a moment before Dorian and Cado apparently returned. 

"Chief, Link," Dorian said with a bow, "she's here."

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.

Chapter Text

     When he woke that morning Link was on the hard plain of Sidon’s chest, his arm tingling from where Yunobo had rolled on top of it. Try as he might, the hero was so tightly squeezed between the two he could barely move. He looked about for a moment. Teba was already gone from the room and Riju had left the night before for private quarters, so tired from her long journey she could hardly walk. Link sighed and flopped back down. Sidon’s rough skin scraped against his face, which was frustrating, but he didn’t complain. While he was by no means comfortable, right arm going numb and the freshly closed wound on his cheek agitated, the hero found himself rather content. The night before was full of sadness, yes, but it also held much laughter. Link hadn’t seen his newfound companions in some time, and it made him feel cared for that they had all come to share in his mourning. He regaled them with tales of he and Zelda’s mishaps and adventures, talking well into the night. But then, of course, he plotted.

     He still hadn’t told them about her parting gift. On instinct he flexed his palm and watched fine particles of light stream from his fingertips. He was surprised he hadn’t completely used up what remained of the power. Sealing Ganon after such an arduous battle took more out of Link than he’d dared admit to those who weren’t present upon his arrival in Kakariko. He pulled his arm under his head and thought. What to do, what to say, how everyone would react. He worried his lip between gritted teeth. The people he’d already told were overjoyed, but not necessarily for him. They were happy for the fact that the Goddess had not abandoned them without a defense against the darkness. Link himself felt a little abandoned by both Impa and Paya, as though he wasn’t a person anymore. Just a vessel for the sacred power he possessed.

     He finally understood why Zelda wasn’t too keen on having a relationship with her father.

    The hero pondered for a long time when the long body beneath him shifted suddenly. His head darted up and Link found himself staring directly into the Zora prince’s eyes. They were the colour of a twilit evening up close, or fresh honey, or molten gold. He turned away and signed a quick good morning. Sidon simply chuckled at that, with short puffs of breath fluttering past his gills.

“Morning. Rest well?” He asked, his own voice thick with sleep. The hero only nodded in reply.

     Though he had a question written on his face, Sidon didn’t get to ask it before Yunobo yawned loudly and rolled over. Link’s dominant arm finally free, he stretched and heard the creaking of bones rested too long in one position. It felt strange to sign with his weaker side, but he continued to do so anyway. The last thing he needed was for anyone to notice the mark on his right hand before he felt ready to tell them. Link asked the prince about getting some breakfast, to which he agreed with his usual enthusiasm.

     Knowing that he usually woke late, the two tiptoed around the sleeping Goron and out of the inn. The prince sighed as the cool breeze washed over him. Kakariko was a lovely place. He felt as though he could stay there for quite some time and indulge in the slow, humble life that was there.

     Something bothered him. When he finally plucked up the courage to ask Link about that which rattled through his mind, he turned to find he'd already wandered off. Sidon looked about for a moment, curious as to how Link had the mental facilities to go anywhere with a reasonable sense of direction. He wasn’t one for sleeping late into the morning, that much Sidon knew, but it still didn’t suit him to be fully awake without a meal and a strange cup of steaming black liquid he said came from Gerudo Town. Despite his height advantage, the Zora couldn’t catch sight of his friend. He strolled about the main path, chatting politely to whoever he passed before asking where Link went. He had no luck until Claree pointed him up a steep hill and instructed his direction. Sidon thanked her profusely and hurried along.

     It was a tough climb, his short legs not really meant for land, but he made it nonetheless. He wheezed and puffed for a moment as though the air had gone too thick to swallow. He recuperated quickly though and stood in the treeline out of view when he spotted the hero.

     Link sat at the edge of Cotera’s fountain, dangling his feet off the edge and signing to himself. The prince wanted to avert his eyes, so as not to invade his privacy, but found that he was unable to look away. Link was planning something. Sidon watched carefully, the fluid way he moved his hands and how his face shifted between expressions with ease. He remembered that when he was young the legendary swordsman was cold, emotionless. He never smiled, never laughed, never looked like anything other than the picture of a perfect protector. Seeing him now with such open and broad displays of his mind’s inner workings warmed Sidon’s heart.

     That is, until the hero said something to himself that broke him a little inside. The Prince approached him slowly, ensuring his footsteps thudded against the dirt so Link could have a moment to compose himself. He sat beside him in total silence for what felt like ages before Link tapped him on the arm for his attention.

     ‘Sorry I ran away. I needed some time alone.’

     “It’s alright.” Sidon said, voice low and offering him a crooked grin full of sharp teeth. Link chuckled a little.

     The two sighed, simply being beside each other for a long while and watching the daylight build from pinks and golds to vibrant, cloudless blue.

     ‘I know you saw me earlier,’ Link signed at last, much to Sidon’s embarrassment, ‘I saw you in the trees. You’re bright red, it’s impossible not to notice you.’

     “That is a little humiliating. I did not mean to spy on you my friend, that I promise.”

     Link smiled and shook his head, signing something that Sidon wasn’t sure he understood. He puzzled over it for a moment, but admitted that he couldn’t tell what he’d said eventually. Link signed it again, slowly and with more intent.

     ‘I’m scared.’

     With a long sigh, Sidon put an arm protectively over Link’s frail shoulders. His expression was bitter, grinning at the sheer ridiculous nature of what was happening to him. He thought for a moment of using up the power to prevent his grim future, but his sentimental side forced his perspective. He couldn’t waste the gift he was given, especially not now. He wouldn’t even know where to start.

     The Prince gave him a gentle squeeze before speaking.

     “It is a terrifying prospect, one that you have already lived through. I know your pain and I am truly sorry you have to agonize over it again.”

     Link shook his head solemnly and leaned into his friend as though he couldn’t hold himself up under the weight on his mind. Sidon carefully ran his claws through Link’s hair, left loose and falling into his eyes. It was strange, he thought, that the hero felt fear at all. His bravery was of great renown all throughout Hyrule. Then again, he could recall something his father once told him. Having no fear is not what it means to be brave, it’s brazen stupidity. Fearing the task ahead and moving forward anyway is the true meaning of courage. The words rang through his skull, a mantra of sorts, and it came to light that he owed Link more respect than he’d paid. Of course he was afraid, and yet he kept on his path. Not one of his friends from before the Calamity left to comfort him, not even his beloved Zelda, and now he was daunted by the thought that he could outlive everyone he cared for again. Link had been nothing but strong for all his life, and now in a moment of weakness Sidon had judged him. The Prince's guilt ran deep, and he started to apologize when Teba came soaring down.

     He hid a cackle behind a wing as the two threw themselves away from each other. Why they felt the need to do so was a mystery to them both, as though they’d been caught with their hands in the metaphorical cookie jar.

     “Breakfast?” Teba asked simply, struggling to hold back a smile.

     The two nodded sheepishly, walking far from each other in pure embarrassment as they following the Rito back down to the village without so much as a shared glance.

     Sidon knew he should confess what he’d thought and possibly grovel for Link’s forgiveness, but the hero hid his face behind his long hair and his hands pressed firmly to his cheeks. The tips of his ears were almost as crimson as Sidon’s scales, so he thought to leave him be until they could find a moment to speak just the two of them.

     Upon reaching the deck beside the general store —Riju grinning slyly, Teba already on his way home and Yunobo rubbing his eyes— Link continued to avoid him. Of course the prince understood, though while he felt equally mortified he hid it much better. He thanked Riju in his usual manner and tucked in to his plate. She was a terrible cook, but it wasn’t inedible the same way as some of the things his father used to put on the table. Sidon complimented her improvement to which she curtsied dramatically, making Yunobo roar in laughter.

     “So, are you leaving for the Domain today?” Riju inquired, tilting her head and smiling still. Link nodded briefly and looked away.

     It struck the prince as odd, as a change in subject often made Link perk up and answer quickly. They'd talked the night before, and since they would be heading in the same direction Sidon offered his company. Of course Link had accepted, but perhaps he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary? Maybe they weren’t as close as he’d felt they were? It fretted him to think that he'd been toting the fact that he had such a wonderful best friend if they were not, in fact, best friends. Sidon desperately wanted to ask Link about it, but it would be inconsiderate to do so at that moment. So they sat, Yunobo and Riju making light conversation while a tension hung around them so thick you could cut it.

     Paya had come to collect Link some time ago—much to the relief of a certain royal—lying through her teeth about the reason why. She was an awful liar, wringing her hands and her voice small and trembling. Of course he’d realized right away what she wanted to discuss. It weighed so heavily on the hero’s heart it brought down his shoulders, fought off any sign of a smile he attempted. Sidon stared after him wistfully, only noticing Yunobo calling his name over and over when Riju snapped her fingers in his face.

     “You okay?” Yunobo asked, expression pinched in concern and confusion. The Prince rubbed the back of his neck and grinned weakly. “Yes, I’m alright. Thank–”

     “—Bullshit.” Riju interjected. The two both went to scold her for such foul language, but she stared daggers at them that stopped the two in their tracks. “You’re not ‘alright.’ Not in the slightest. What happened?”

     Sidon slumped in his seat, head hung low and letting out a huff. How could he put it? My closest friend might live forever and that scares him half to death? I’m worried about Link because he’s afraid of outliving everyone he loves again? The prince fumbled over his words for a while, which was very unlike himself, but only shook his head when nothing came to mind. Riju laid one of her delicate yet battered hands on his arm.

     “It’s about him, isn’t it?”

     He hesitated for a moment, wondering what she might think if he was honest. At the end of the day it was still her, and everyone who’d ever met Riju only spoke fondly about her. “Yes. I do not really know what else I can say.” Sidon lamented.

     The Chief cackled like thunder and smacked him playfully.

     “I’m sure you’ll figure it out just fine on your own. You just need to relax a little!”

     “Very funny Riju,” Yunobo chided with a wide grin, “it’s not like they’re madly in love and so afraid of rejection they refuse to say anything, goro.”

     “Hilarious. I'm crying tears of laughter.” Sidon spoke in his most grim tone, but he couldn’t fight the smirk crossing his lips. What a notion indeed, that he and Link were in love. Or, it would be if Link hadn’t always rushed to his side when he needed comfort during his journey, shared every thought and wish he’d had with him, would come as often as he could to the Domain for the sole purpose of seeing him… No. It was too outrageous to believe, but that didn’t stop him from reminiscing about every little interaction they’d had in the last year or so. Every glance, every word, every tiny gesture he felt sure was simple platonic affection. Was that really the case? Were they really just friends? He was worried earlier that they weren't close, but now the Zora Prince was concerned that he and Link were seen as too friendly.

     He sunk deeply into his thoughts, so when the very person he was thinking of placed a careful hand on his shoulder Sidon nearly jumped out of his seat.

     “Link,” he sighed, “you’re looking better. How was your meeting with Impa?”

     He shrugged in response, asking if Sidon was ready to head out. It surprised him to see that he was so set on departing, especially after how he was acting earlier. Either way, if he felt well enough for their trip then that was fine by him.

     Once Link had packed up what remained of his clothes and bought some extra rations to be safe, they said long goodbyes to the other two Champions. Riju even hugged Link, giving him a peck on the cheek and whispering something to him in a language Sidon could only imagine was Gerudo. More hugs were exchanged between the three. "I am going to miss you both terribly," Sidon said in the hero's place, "I promise to write as often as I can."

     "Don't bother, your handwriting is terrible." Riju snarked. Yunobo practically fell over laughing and Link snorted. 

     With the last words of goodwill said the two set off down the road, Link peering over his shoulder all the way.

Chapter Text

     ‘And you’re sure you won’t get too tired?’ Link asked his friend, signs held close to his chest. He was unsure if it was really a good idea to walk all the way to their destination, despite it being his own suggestion. Sidon laid a hand on the hero’s shoulder and grinned in that reassuring way he always did.

     “I will be fine, Link, so long as we stay close to the river.” 

     To this Link nodded, eyes averted while he pushed his bangs from his face. Close to the river, he could do that, but it would take much longer. Of course he wasn’t upset about getting some more time with his friend. He loved spending time with Sidon, but he couldn’t seem to shake the awkward feeling from being alone once more. It was only that morning that the hero had curled against Sidon’s like a small child and opened up about how terrified he was. He hadn’t planned on sharing it so long as he lived, not with anyone aside from Impa. 

     After checking their packs again, the two finally set off for the Domain. It would take two days to arrive if they went down Sahasra Slope, upwards of five if they chose the road between the Dueling Peaks, but Link didn’t feel impacted either way so he encouraged Sidon to choose their route. The slope it was, the reasoning the prince gave was something along the lines of “the sooner you’re treated the sooner you’ll be well my dear friend!”

     While they made their way along the barely-there path, Link found himself consumed by his thoughts. Truth be told, he was more afraid of what the Goddess’s magic was doing to him—what it had already done to him—than he ever was of any pig monster. His wounds healed faster, he needed less sleep to be rested, and some of the scars on his body were starting to fade. That was what most scared him. Out of habit the hero ran his fingertips over the burn across his right cheek, the texture of it lacking some of the characteristic divots it had only recently. While it wasn’t extreme yet he felt the evidence of his change. 

     That particular scar meant much to him. A painful reminder of how he failed to protect his dearest friend in all the world, certainly. However, it was also a part of Link and his story. While he often wished he could go back and change the past there was nothing he could do. With that in mind he wore his scars with pride. They defined the hardships he endured, and some had happier memories attached to them. 

     Specifically he thought of the wide slash under his left eye. Zelda was ambushed in Gerudo Town by the Yiga, rather ironically while on a diplomatic mission to coordinate with the Gerudo as to how they should deal with the traitorous bastards. She was so brave, she ran for miles through the sand to Kara Kara where she knew Link would be. He earned the scar by fighting all three Yiga footsoldiers at once, killing one and scaring off the other two, saving the Princess’ life. He turned to her after, hand outstretched and face bleeding profusely, more concerned for her comfort than his own wound. That moment was the one that finally proved to her that Link cared not just about her safety but for who she was. He saw her as a friend long before she felt the same way. Their first real conversation took place at the oasis, dangling their feet in the water and just talking. It solidified their friendship and laid the foundation for just how close they would become. 

     Link missed her terribly, and he knew that would be the case for the rest of his extra-long life, but a realization he’d made just earlier as he spoke with the Sheikah elder raised his spirits.

     He was free. Not the kind of freedom that came with conditions, pain and loss, the true meaning of the word. Free to go where he pleased, be who he pleased, live how he pleased. Nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for this day. It lifted so much weight from his chest and he thought of what exactly it was he wished for from the new life he would build. The first thing that came to mind was to fall in love. To be with someone who cared for who Link was as a person rather than his status, to have someone in his life who he could be unabashedly himself with. He almost looked back, but flushed when he realized what that would’ve meant. He couldn’t possibly think about that right now. That aside…

     To be married one day was something he’d always dreamt of as a small boy. There was always something magical about the prospect. With that settled in his mind he considered what usually came after a wedding. Link wanted children, not right away but not too far in the future either. Four, five, perhaps six years down the line felt natural. Oh, and what adorable little monsters any of his offspring would be! He could practically see them, smashing pottery and eating anything they could get their hands on. Link delighted in the idea of it all. 

     The hero walked on ahead, the Prince behind him, seeming to be lost in a dreamy way. It calmed him and that showed in his pace. The sway of his walk, his shoulders releasing their usual tension, the odd wistful sigh. What on earth could he be thinking of that made Link relax so? Sidon stared at his companion’s back, that deep and uncomfortable knot he knew well settling in his bones. It was never a good sign when someone seemed better so soon after such a travesty. Zelda had passed a long time ago, but Link hadn’t known that until last week. He was doing so horribly only that morning, and now? He practically skipped along the road like nothing had happened. It was maddening. The Zora tried to recall everything Link had been doing since they first saw each other. His brow furrowed, and Sidon could taste the metallic tang of blood blooming from where he bit his lip in concern. Out of all of the new champions it was him who’d been the most paranoid about his friend’s well-being. That was all, that the prince was letting his worrying over Link make him see things that weren’t there… or so he tried to convince himself. With little success. 

     He spent a long time like that; arms folded, expression set, walking along without really being present when a small hand landed against his stomach. Link was looking up at him expectantly. 

     “I’m sorry,” Sidon said after a moment, “I did not catch that. Could you repeat it?”

     Link signed agonizingly slow, a sly grin spreading over his face. He tapped his lips twice with his fingertips all touching, then curled his hand into a fist and bobbed it up and down. ‘Food, yes?’

     “Yes, food. Excellent idea my friend.”

     It was early afternoon by the time they found a place to set down their packs. They’d just come to the beginning of the road to the Domain, the soft and marshy land thankfully riddled with life. The Zora River was beautiful as always, the water cool and comfortable against the Prince’s scales. He floated still under its surface. Watching, waiting, feeling. He could sense his prey gliding through the current long before he saw them. Above him familiar green scales shimmered. He needed to be careful, ensuring he wouldn’t scare them away. Sidon swam carefully behind his prey, lashing out with sharp claws to capture the fish before he leapt from the water. He was landing on the sandy bank a moment later to Link cheering silently. He’d built a small fire and placed his skillet directly on the embers with some butter and herbs. It already smelled wonderful. Link waved his hand towards himself for the fish and worked quickly as he scraped away the skin and sliced the fillets from the spine and organs. What an awe-inspiring sight to see, the confidence and skill with which the hero prepared meals. It made a convincing case to show that he may have been a magician of some kind. 

     That distraction only lasted so long though, and Sidon was torn from his amazement when his friend shoved the expertly cooked lunch into his hand. He’d shredded the meat some and paired it with a thin sauce, the whole affair wrapped in soft flatbread. A thank you and his first bite later, time and place seemed to melt away. The taste of perfectly seasoned fish, creamy butter, chewy yet crispy bread and something fresh he hadn’t seen Link prepare assaulted the Prince’s senses in the best possible way. 

     They sat in silence for a long while, long after the two had devoured the meal and Sidon tidied the mess, even though the hero had made a valiant attempt to do so himself. 

     The quiet was something the Zora never thought could be so peaceful. Such a thing at home usually meant a Lizalfos attack or an oncoming flood, but here it was just a part of being on the road. The low water of the marsh shone in the sun, birds sang in the canopies, the breeze brushed against his skin. He looked over to his companion, who had his legs pulled up against his chest and rested his chin on his knees, staring out at nothing and smiling softly to himself. Reluctantly so as not to surprise him Sidon placed one of his hands squarely between Link’s shoulders, just as he’d done the other day to comfort him. He looked up, grin growing wider and warmer, his brilliant sky-coloured eyes shimmering in the dappled light from the trees overhead. 

     ‘What’s up?’

     The Zora sighed and averted his eyes, putting together his words mentally before speaking his concerns. “Have you,” he hesitated for a moment, “Are you feeling well, my friend?”

     ‘Yeah? Why does that sound like a bad thing?’

     “I did not intend—”

     The hero’s palm landed against his lips and ended his train of thought. Link’s ears twitched, his gaze darted back and forth, he carefully wrapped his fingers around the Master Sword’s hilt. Ever so carefully he seemed to lower his guard…

     He didn’t hesitate when something red dropped on them to run it through with one powerful strike. A white mask decorated with an inverted Sheikah eye and form-fitting armor in a deep blood red made it obvious; a Yiga clan ambush.

     Sidon bolted from where he sat and snapped his trident from its holster, body lowered and every fin flared. It didn’t take long for a whole group of them to poof into his view, a storm of talismans and smoke marking their entrance. Sidon swung his weapon in a wide arc, knocking one off balance and putting a deep wound into another. A third hooked their wicked sickle over his trident and pulled to draw it away, but the Prince’s superior strength yanked the Yiga within range of his teeth with which he tore their spine in two. He glared up at the one slowly backing away, hands raised in the universal show of surrender, but that didn’t matter to him. These Yiga scum would not see the end of this encounter. 

     The Zora spat vertebrae and ichor, growling like an animal as he stalked towards his next target. They shook in fear and tried to raise their hands for another transporting spell, but Sidon caught them by the wrists and stared down at the footsoldier darkly. He went to stab through their heart when the barely there hiss of a silent scream caught his attention. 

      Link. Having no time to ponder he slammed his crest against his captive’s head and dropped them to the ground unconscious. Sidon whipped around to find his friend in a desperate-looking fight, outnumbered and seemingly outwitted. 

     “LINK!” He bellowed as he threw his trident, managing to hit one of the attackers in the back. One down, four more to go. The Prince drew the longsword from his hip and surged ahead, parrying a knife that was meant to lodge into Link’s jugular. He nodded sharply in gratitude and turned back to the fight with a blazing determination in his eyes.

     It didn’t take long to dispatch the rest of the group, especially with Sidon’s help. Link had flopped back into a patch of soft grass that clung to his blood-soaked self, trying to ease his breathing while the Prince went to bind their “involuntary guest,” as he’d put it. The hero closed his eyes, drawing the scent of a battlefield into his lungs, until he felt a slim and tall body fall beside him. Sidon looked just as worn as Link felt and groaned, massaging what seemed to be the closest thing he had to a forehead. 

     ‘You okay?’ Link asked slowly, finding that his hands were sore. 

     “Yes,” the Prince sighed, “I believe so. As for yourself?”

     The hero shrugged as best he could with his… Well, his everything hurting so much. He’d taken quite a few hits and felt certain that at least one of the four long scars along his upper arm had torn back open. Great, now he was going to bleed all over his favourite travelling tunic. Not that the thing wasn’t already covered in all sorts of stains, it just disappointed him to think he might have to replace it again. That would make it the third he’d bought and completely ruined within a year. 

     To think it had been almost a year since he woke in the Shrine of Resurrection. Link hadn’t felt much of anything, aside from being cold and wet, and that suited him just fine. Apparently it always had suited him to pretend he didn’t have a single emotion to his name. He was nonplussed to realize then just how much he regretted that. He’d made a palmful friends in all his life before he died; Mipha, Daruk, and of course his dear Zelda. He never experienced a particularly close friendship with either of his fellow Champions, and had hardly spoken a word to them in all the years they knew each other. Even as colleagues under the crown he refused to say so much as a warm hello. The explanation he’d offered Zelda… 

     “I hate it when you call me that.” Link heard his friend say as she turned, green eyes more vibrant in the warm twilight pouring in through her study’s tiny window. “Please, Auralia. That is my name.”

     “That still feels too formal.” The hero in the memory was bewildered by his sudden speech, but chuckled lightly to himself rather than dwell on it. It was funny, the things being close to someone did to him. “How about something like… Auri?” 

     “It’s perfect.” The Princess replied, with a smile so gentle it rivaled the sun just as the rest of her did. “And what about you? Link feels too formal.” She echoed with a laugh. His past self thought it over while the Link of the present encouraged his next words. 

     “My actual name is Eddie, from Edmund. How’s that?”

     “Your name is Edmund of all things?” Auri snickered behind her palm before her mischievous smirk faded into something warm and caring. “Alright then. Eddie, I can get used to that.”

     A concerned face swam in the hero’s vision while the exchange dissipated, a thumb wiping a damp trail from his cheek to further ground him in reality. When did Link start crying? 

     ‘I’m fine Sidon, promise.’

     “You do not look very well my friend. May I fetch you some water?”

    Link shook his head, pushing gently on his friend’s shoulder so he could finally sit up and actually check himself over for injuries. Just as he feared the scar on his arm had split, blood soaking into the sleeve of his tunic. He’d have to change into something sturdier, but first he pulled the Sheikah Slate from his hip, flipping through his inventory for a couple of Hearty Elixirs. He all but threw one at Sidon, who laughed at the playful gesture, and Link had to sputter so he wouldn’t choke on his potion as he downed it. They tasted absolutely awful, but there was no way he could find to change that. There was the expected itchy sensation of his wound mending and his energy returning, but something else was also replenished. The mark on his hand glowed under his gauntlet, sending a warmth through his blood. 

     “That’s… interesting. What does it mean?” Sidon commented, hovering unusually close. Link thought deeply, watching the shine dim to nothing over the next minute or two, before he dropped his head into his hands. 

     “Link? Gods Link, whatever is the matter?”

        ‘The elixir. It’s replenishing my magic.’ He signed shakily after a moment, breath popping in his throat somewhere between a laugh and a sob. The prince wrapped him in a comforting embrace, pressing his crest into the crook between his neck and shoulder. Of course. It made sense that a healing potion would do such a thing, otherwise how would the past wielders of his accursed power maintain its strength? 

     Link pushed his friend back gently, looking up into his face. His warm amber eyes, his pained frown, the way the space between his eyes crinkled with concern. It eased the ache in his heart for a moment, so he smiled as much as he could manage before leaning back against Sidon, who allowed him to stay there longer than he really needed.