Archive of Our Own

The world stirred below his feet in the spring silence– Not a perfect silence, but a warm one, filled with the quiet pulse of new life and growth.

It was morning in Lanayru, and so Link jumped. With a crisp snap, his paraglider caught wind and yanked him up from free fall with the long familiar hard shock to his arms. Today he intended to trek further along the cliffs around Lanayru Bay and as far past Mount Lanayru as possible. Instinct and months of monster killing told him absolutely nothing would be there, but Zelda wanted him to do a thorough sweep of the potential camps south of the Shai Yota to Mezza Lo line, and Mount Lanayru was part of that terrain.

Granted, there wouldn’t exactly be any travelers out that way besides himself, so maybe it could be dismissed for now. Zelda probably wouldn’t mind. He landed on the shore and swiped away the paraglider in exchange for Revali’s- His- Kinda both- bow. Nothing greeted him, not that he had expected anything. If only he had brought Epona, then he would at least have company. But no, of course he felt it would be more efficient making the trip on foot. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with the wilderness, a little quiet companionship would have been appreciated was all.

He trekked across the rocky shore, eyes sweeping the semi-barren terrain carefully for anything out of place. The recent power increase and erratic behavior of the monsters around Hyrule wasn’t necessarily a cause for proper concern, but it was definitely odd. Calamity was gone, he had slain it and Zelda had sealed it away. If anything, the monster populations should be less, not increasing again, but here they were.

He’d give anything for a monster to fight. Something to keep him from his thoughts. A distraction from– Well, this whole mission was kind of a thinly disguised distraction in the first place, one that he and Zelda had agreed on, but he needed something else to do before he pulled out the bomb arrows and got creative.

Ah. The bomb arrows.

The lynel was pacing its territory as he had expected. Nothing unusual there. Still red, acting normal as could be, so probably not infected with whatever black blood nonsense was spreading across the world as of late. Everything put together made the whole exercise a perfect way to start the morning. Zelda would kill him when she found out.

He unslung his bow from across his back and ran a hand over his quiver- bomb arrows, bomb arrows, when had those ice arrows gotten in there? Regular arrows, more bomb arrows. Perfect. He snagged a bomb arrow and took careful aim over the edge of the cliff at the lynel’s exposed back. Inhale, come to full draw… Exhale. The short whistle of taut sinew sang in his right ear, and then the lynel exploded.

Which would not kill it, but was certainly more than enough to piss it off for a good fight. He took a running start off the edge and snapped his paraglider open, wheeling around sharply to enter freefall over the lynel as it twisted below him in a rage, searching the field for the hunter that dared to challenge it with electric arrows already nocked and drawn for retaliation. Monsters, he mused, so rarely thought to look up.

He distantly noted something alerted the lynel towards the woods directly opposite the gate, and then he plunged down on top of the beast’s back with a flameblade already summoned and set its mane on fire. It thrashed and bucked and he was backflipping off of it already, time slowing to a crawl as he whipped out his bow and fired one bomb arrow, then another, then who the fuck were those guys sprinting out of the woods in armor with their weapons drawn? His final shot sailed short and embedded itself into the lynel’s side much too close to him, the concussive force ringing through his ears as he hit the ground in a barely controlled tumble that sent fire up his right ankle.

And then he was running, zigzagging awkwardly away as he yanked out another bomb arrow, twisted over his shoulder, and with another stilted breath, fired his next shot into the thin space between the lynel’s beady eyes. Time stuttered to a halt around him once again. Perfect shot. He could hardly waste such a nicely timed flurry rush, could he? He spun and sprinted back for the giant monster with a distant note to the battlefield around him, eyes fixed on the prize on the lynel’s back.

Heavy plate, mouth open mid shout but gaze fixed curiously on him. One. Blue cape, sprinting directly for the lynel, red tunic mid draw of a rod of some kind, similar to a meteor rod. Two, three. Red, green, blue, and purple blur with a short sword, gesturing towards him. Four. Light blue tunic, claw device aimed at the lynel’s mid flail arm. Five. Plain green tunic and white cape running for where he was a heartbeat ago. Six and seven. Wolf pelt staring at him with a heavy gaze. Eight.

Eight heavily armed travelers and a lynel, and him.

He whistled a sharp note into the still air, vaulted onto the back of the lynel and swung at the neck once, twice, three times, a fourth, and a cacophony of yelling hit him all at once. The lynel roared a dying wail to the sky and collapsed under him while he jumped down to the ground, jarring his ankle, and Epona whinnied loudly from the south and trotted up to nuzzle him in the midst of the fiery bombing field and lynel parts. He glanced at the flameblade still in his hand. It was fractured through the hilt, a thin webbing of damage painted across the length. He tapped it against the ground gently. The blade exploded in a shower of glowing blue sparks and he rolled his eyes.

“Are you alright?!” Within seconds, the menagerie of unknown fighters surrounded him and he backed up into Epona, one hand on his quiver in an instant. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. His eyes darted across the group and he shifted back, Epona dancing with him. These were not chances he liked.

“You’re hurt, do you need a potion?”

“What the hell was that?!”

“How did you do that, what happened to your sword!”

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen-”

“He just fought a lynel, Wars!”

“Boys, enough! Give him space!” The order made him tense, the armored man’s tone leaving no room for argument and stinging at his brain even though it wasn’t meant for him. At least the group listened, that made it easier for him to recognize the leader.

The tense bubble in Link’s chest rose further into his throat with every breath he took. Too many people, too much going on, too few escape routes- Epona whinnied, breath warm against his shoulder and he slowly reached up and around her neck with his quiver arm to feel her sure and steady movements. Epona would be there. She would be ready to run. He exhaled softly and reached down to the slate at his side without lowering his eyes from the swordsmen surrounding him. Even if their weapons were sheathed, they could turn on him fast.

His fingertips brushed the screen of the slate and he swiped across twice to where he knew the potions he had left were, and summoned a fairy tonic. He wrinkled his nose, the bottle was already only half full. Better if he didn’t use it at all until he could replenish his supplies, but as it was, there wasn’t a way to get straight home that wouldn’t require use of his legs.

“That was a dangerous fight you picked there.” The leader said, looking him up and down carefully. Link shrugged and took two quick sips of the tonic, then vanished it back into the slate.

Lanayru Promenade is the only way through without scaling the highlands. Better me than unprepared travelers. He offered the explanation with a halfhearted sigh, signing through his discomfort at the surprised eyes on him. Most of his tunic was now riddled with burns, which was a shame. He rather liked the green for travelling indiscreetly these days. Too many people recognized the Champion blue.

“He says this is the only way through without scaling the cliffs, so the lynel needed to be taken care of.” The leader paraphrased. Well, at least one of the group could understand him. That could have been a problem, given how his throat was still refusing to open.

“We could have helped,” The baby faced kid in the light blue tunic protested. “We’ve got loads of experience taking care of that kinda stuff!”

“Hush, Sailor, it was reckless, but he’s alive and fine, it’s not like he knew we were in the woods beforehand.” Blue scarf nudged light blue tunic kid and placed a hand on his shoulder. Link wanted to give blue scarf points for the proper guess, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had also apparently missed the part where Link had clearly had the fight under control until their group interrupted. He shrugged again and flicked through his slate, humming out loud when he found the Champion tunic and selecting it to swap out.

“You’re a traveler, then?” The plainly dressed one stepped forward, looking over him hopefully with big hazel eyes. Link considered the ruby encrusted sword hilt over the other’s shoulder for a moment. He couldn’t really judge, he had gotten some of his best weapons just by looking off the beaten path. Who knew where any of these guys had come from?

Sometimes. When it’s necessary. Whenever he felt like it, whenever he was restless at home, whenever Zelda needed him to, he could go on. Blood moons weren’t nearly as frequent or devastating now, but they still happened, and the monster population seemed to have a habit of replenishing itself anyway. Roads needed to be kept clear, even if most travelers and merchants could handle the odd bokoblin patrol or occasional moblin.

“Sometimes,” The leader repeated thoughtfully, before sharing a glance with wolf pelt, who up close looked slightly more intimidating than he had from across the field. The markings across his forehead and cheeks were interesting, though. Vaguely familiar, but then, that was most things, ever since the Shrine. Recall was slow, but at least it was progressing. He dismissed the thoughts easily: if it was really important to something, the memory would trigger, he could hardly force it.

“We’ve heard rumors about the hero of Hyrule?” White cape spoke up, tentative but hopeful. Link eyed that one carefully, one hand shifting up Epona’s bridle in a movement that was anything but casual. White cape’s sword was wrapped up across the hilt, very obviously concealed, which meant that he wasn’t trying to conceal it in general, just draw attention away from it. Suspicious. But if this group was Yiga, they would have long since attacked him, especially after he defeated the lynel and was at his most susceptible, so it wasn’t that. And if they were outside assassins, they were doing a really shitty job of it. No, something else was going on.

None of the eight Hylians were overtly carrying ranged weapons, so Epona was still his best bet, as long as he wasn’t risking her health. He nodded slowly in response to their strange not quite question.

Most of the world has. That was a neutral enough statement. Anyone who really knew anything would have come looking straight for the champion, not the hero. Hero was an extraneous title, one hundred and two years in the future.

“I believe what Sky is trying to say is that we’ve heard stories about the skillset of the hero and were hoping he could help us with a problem our family was having,” The leader cut in smoothly before white cape could stumble through explaining himself.

Link blinked at the man incredulously.

You think that one dead man can take care of something that eight highly armed swordsmen can’t.

The mood of half of the group flipped in an instant, the leader and his pelted subordinate visibly restraining themselves from rearing back as red tunic and blue scarf’s eyes widened in unison.

“What?” The shortest one in the quad colored tunic breathed softly.

“What did he say?” Blue tunic (Wind, his brain vaguely supplied) pulled on blue scarf’s arm, ocean deep gaze flicking around his companions suspiciously.

“Time?” White cape fixed the leader with a look that begged for… Something. What, Link had no idea. He bit his lip and signed again.

I can’t really offer more. You’re lucky you didn’t run into a stable asking those kinds of questions. He held up his hands in a placating motion, an odd current of guilt running through his chest. Why he even felt the need to continue explaining this mess to these travelers, only Hylia knew. But if they wanted the hero, he was most certainly done with that mantle.

Champion, he could handle. Champion meant something to him, to the people, to the Sheikah, to Zelda. Hero was not that. The hero they expected had died and gone long before now. While it was still questionable as far as his own memory went, he and Zelda had at least managed to parse out from the scattered bits of the past that the hero was the spirit of courage and could also, in what seemed to be a general rule of the incarnations, possessed part of the triforce at some point. There was not a doubt in his mind that he definitely did not have that at any point since waking up. Only Zelda did, and neither of them had seen it since she sealed the Calamity.

The leader- Time, apparently- sighed deeply and looked around at his companions.

“Bearing in mind that I am reporting exactly what this traveler has said, it would seem that… We arrived too late.”

And now the entire group appeared shaken. Link winced. Not what he had intended in the slightest.

“No.” White cape shook his head frantically. “No, she would be devastated if something had happened like that. And there is no lingering presence of evil, we can all feel that much. It’s not that, it can’t be. It’s not like… That.” The group shifted uncomfortably, giving each other awkward glances, and the smallest placed a hand on white cape’s shoulder.

I… Will take you to the princess, Link decided. She may have more information for you than I will. I trust that you do not have designs against her. He gave the group a hard stare, eyes idly flicking over and noting each of their distinct weaponry. It wouldn’t be a pleasant fight if it came to it, but he had enough of a chance that the princess would at least have a chance to get away. If she left, anyway. Last time he had defended her to the death… Well, he didn’t want to think about that this morning.

“If you’ll pardon us for a moment, I believe that we need to have a discussion before changing our plans.” The leader offered after a tense moment of his scrutiny and the group’s palpable discomfort. He shrugged his agreement. It didn’t matter to him what they decided. He left them to their not very discreet argument and began picking over the lynel’s corpse.

Another lynel bow, that would never not be useful, a new shield- good, he needed one. Salvageable hooves and horns, thankfully. He vanished everything into his slate and set to work harvesting the guts with single-minded abandon, at least until he felt curious eyes on his back. He slowed his pace until he finished, only then looking up to encounter the smallest of the eight watching him with intent.

“Never seen anyone do that with a monster before.” The boy- teenager?- nodded at the corpse rapidly dissolving into black dust.

Potions, he signed quickly. He dropped his hands instantly as it occurred to him that not everyone understood sign and he shrugged with a sheepish glance over his shoulder at the bloodstained earth. The teen’s eyes flashed slightly, glimmering almost purple in the light.

“I understand sign language, don’t worry.”

Well, that made things easier. So more of them could keep up with his limited communication than he initially thought.

Better use than leaving it to waste. He offered the statement with another shrug and stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. The knife slipped and hit the ground, shattering into a spray of blue sparks that had him rolling his eyes. The teen’s eyes followed the sparks, expression warring between curiosity and horror.

“How often do your weapons break?”

Link looked down at his hands, then back at his questioner. What kind of question was that? Everything broke eventually, that knife in particular had just decided not to warn him before it did.

Whenever they’ve been used long enough? He frowned thoughtfully. Some of this stuff is salvaged from ages ago. Things wear out.

Surely that much should have been obvious, but he was still being watched like he’d grown a second head. It wasn’t like most of this stuff had been used for the better part of a century anyway. He wasn’t entirely certain of the science but he knew that everything broke down over time, even the sturdiest swords, unless there was magic involved.

“You ready to go, Smithy?” Wolf pelt approached them silently, almost too silently. Link’s ears twitched, but he kept himself in place, smoothly moving to handle Epona’s reigns before she reacted with him.

“I knew you were capable of deciding without me,” The small one answered easily, like there was a joke Link was missing. Though to be fair, if they were traveling together- Not family, there was no way they were family, even he could spot that lie- then he supposed he was missing a fair few pieces.

“You will take us to Princess Zelda?” The leader appeared behind him then, nearly startling him into grabbing his slate for a second time. These guys really needed to make their movements more noticeable before he stabbed someone.

Yes. He kept the sign short and pointed directly south, eyeing the position of the midday sun. Fastest will be this way over Nirvata. Cliffs are mostly passable for travelers. Should arrive tomorrow.

He swung up onto Epona to punctuate his statement and nudged her to face southward.

Also, next monsters we encounter, let me take care of it. I work much more safely alone. He left them to murmur among themselves and squeezed Epona’s sides, letting her begin the walk towards home. Hateno.

-*-

Link pushed his way uphill, still fully mindful of the prickling discomfort down his neck and spine with eight highly trained warriors- heroes- behind him, walking through his territory, his home, towards a princess they all surely would have protected far better than he had, unprecedented circumstances be damned. They were still judging him, he could feel it. What kind of kingdom left its castle in ruins?

Theirs, as the princess ordered, his brain supplied rationally. Not that he didn’t appreciate that himself, but what were these other heroes seeing, if their claims were real? Nothing good, that was certain. Hope, maybe, that some life had hung on, if Hateno had made it. They would be sorely disappointed, then. That was fine. They could be disappointed. So long as Zelda convinced them to leave him alone, then it would be fine.

Across the bridge they went, and the murmurs of surprise and appreciation and whatever else increased in volume- It went in one ear and out the other, he was too scrambled to really care, but the small sense of satisfaction and safety and home that washed through him whenever he entered his yard would not be denied. Zelda never told him exactly, probably fearing his memory or lack thereof, but he had long since had suspicions that this particular house had been important to him once upon a time. That hardly did any good for him now, but the feeling that came with it was coupled with contentment that he rarely felt, and that mattered just as much as a few lost scenes.

He approached the door without bothering to shake off his boots (Zelda had long since given that one up) and knocked once, twice, twice in rapid succession, and once more, and pushed the door open, waving one arm behind him in a brief gesture of entry. Zelda would have known by the third knock that he was bringing company, that was the best he could do. He unlatched his cape with a soft huff and laid it over the closer chair at his largely unused table.

“Link, you know you don’t have to knock in your own home!” Ah, so she was up in the loft. That was fine. Better up there than down here where she could be attacked. He huffed again, turning away from the table as the noise of eight men and boys filtered inside and began to fill the small house with more presence than it had seen in at least 100 years. Throat still closed. She’d be wondering where he was, if somehow the eight new voices didn’t alert her.

“Link?” Zelda’s voice floated down with a hint of curiosity this time and he trotted up the neat wooden staircase to the tune of the eldest ineffectively hushing the others from their marveling at the apparent “wild child” having an actual house. Of course he had a house. He had to live somewhere, after all.

He met her raised eyebrows and questioning green eyes as he climbed, and stepped into the loft with a soft sigh, tension bleeding from his shoulders at the semblance of space he managed to acquire.

“Who are they, Link?” Zelda nodded over the railing at the group pretending not to eavesdrop. He opened his mouth to respond but the sound caught in his throat again. He clenched his fists in frustration. Even Zelda. Just great. So much for all his months of progress. He raised his hands to sign, gaze fixed on the floor, and Zelda’s freshly callused fingers moved into his view as she placed her hand over his.

“Would you rather…” He raised his head and she gestured at him with her other hand, then down at the group. The group of heroes. His throat stayed closed and he nodded imperceptibly. Zelda watched his face for a moment, judgement passing on the group below (but not him, she promised it wouldn’t be him, never again) with every heartbeat, and blinked at him kindly. “Are you-”

Yes, he signed quickly before she could finish, fingers frantic. Yes, I’m sure, please Zelda I have a voice and I want to be able to use it, please- Her hands caught his again and she smiled gently at him.

I understand. She signed back clumsily and he breathed a sigh of relief that they probably heard downstairs. Zelda stepped back and drew up her spine, squaring her shoulders in a conscious display of quiet strength. His lips twitched at the sight of her royal countenance as always. If Zelda chose to take up her throne once more in the future, she would do just fine. She was already well beyond anything that her father ever was.

“Link, my champion, would you kindly deliver your expedition report? And preferably include why we suddenly have eight visitors?” It was an order, but framing it as a request made Zelda more comfortable with having to still order him around despite her best attempts to convince him (and herself, perhaps) of their equality in the wake of Calamity Ganon’s defeat. The responsibility of choice was lifted from his shoulders, if only for a moment. The fear never really rested, but per Zelda’s order, he was able to swallow the choking bubble in his throat and focus on himself, and not the people surrounding him.

“Princess-” His voice rasped softly as Zelda immediately fixed him with a look.

“Zelda,” He amended quickly, and the slight smile that crept across her face was worth it.

“I told you he could talk!” The kid yelped in indignation.

“Sure would’ve made it easier then, huh.” Red tunic grumbled, eliciting a few mumbles of agreement and a hiss for quiet from one of the others. His ears twitched. It wasn’t like he chose not to talk to them, he just couldn’t.

“The lynel at the East Gate has been taken care of,” He began, and Zelda groaned. “As has the hinox at Purifier Lake, and the talus-”

“Out at Ovli, yes, go on,” Zelda groaned again and gestured with her hand, which may have been deserved, but still, rude. He quirked an eyebrow at her and continued.

“I arrived at Shai Yota five days ago as you requested to sweep the sector south from the line west to Mezza Lo. Between Shai Yota and Mezza Lo I encountered three camps, one containing monsters with the previously noted black blood enhancements. All camps have been eliminated and marked on the map. No samples were gained from the deviant camp.” Zelda nodded assent, a flicker of disappointment appearing.

“The blue hinox at the southernmost end of Ja’Abu Ridge was not present at its usual grounds. Three hours were spent searching for no further evidence before the decision was made to continue. Night one was spent near Rucco Maag. Night two was spent near Mezza Lo.”

Zelda snapped her fingers.

“Ah! The Ja’Abu Ridge hinox was dispatched by a patrol of Zora warriors the day before you left, it slipped my mind. I apologize for that. Apparently it climbed up nearly to Rutala Dam, and King Dorephan deemed it a threat to functions in the East Reservoir.”

Link frowned, turning that piece of information over and over. That section of Ja’Abu Ridge included what was nearly a sheer cliff, the idea of much of anything, let alone a hinox, climbing up it was as improbable as him ignoring the lynel in the first place. At best, it might have cracked its ankles jumping down to Samasa Plain or gone across to Brynna Plain, but even those were a stretch. Hinoxes simply didn’t go anywhere unprovoked. He shook his head. Time to worry about that would come later.

“Two pre-marked camps on Rabia Plain were eliminated south of Mezza Lo. One contained three black blooded moblins. Samples of varying quality were obtained. Upon moving east, a deviant third camp consisting entirely of black blooded monsters was located below Trotter’s Downfall and eliminated. Samples of varying quality were obtained. The hinox on Trotter’s Downfall was eliminated, no visible contamination found. Night three was spent above Trotter’s Downfall. Nothing was located on subsequent sweeps of Samasa Plain to the north and Lanayru Heights to the south. Night four was spent above Trotter’s Downfall.”

He flicked through the slate to display the several bottles of viscous black semi-fluid, and Zelda’s smile widened a mildly concerning amount.

“From Trotter’s Downfall I traveled northeast to meet up with the shoreline and proceed further east along the range with expectation of slowed travel due to the unstable mountainous terrain. At Lanayru Bay I turned south with intent to pass through the East Gate and traverse the Promenade to eliminate the recurring camps within the canyon.”

“So you were bored.” Zelda interrupted. He frowned at her.

“With the likelihood of travelers through Lanayru Promenade as opposed to around the north rim of Mount Lanayru, it seemed more pressing to continue south at the bay instead of around the cliff side.”

“And you were bored,” Zelda concluded, nodding sagely. “Continue, my champion.”

“... And I was bored.” His ears flushed. She smirked at him and he looked down at his hands, fiddling with his wraps for distraction.

“After defeating the lynel, which was also determined to be not contaminated, eight explorers encountered my position at the clearing off of the East Gate.”

Zelda winced. So did he. Of all the places to just happen to be searching. At least, thank Hylia, it wasn’t Blatchery Plain.

“Appropriate threat assessment and necessary precautions were completed. Epona was retrieved along with the lynel spoils without any further attack. As already addressed, the lynel was uncontaminated.” Really, he just put on his champion tunic and wasn’t attacked for it, but that wasn’t her concern since he was still alive and in one piece.

“They asked questions that I was unable to provide the answers to, and brought forth claims that I have no knowledge to examine with. Consequently, I guided them here in expectation that our resources may be able to provide more details to their quest.” He breathed out slowly.

“I have-” His voice croaked and he flushed, half angry, half embarrassed. Zelda placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright, Link. You did well. That was more than enough.”

But- Zelda cut him off with a stern look, lips pinched at the corners in concern.

“More than enough,” She repeated more softly. “Don’t push it too far, save a few words. That was really good, trust me to evaluate honestly.”

Link sighed and raised his hands to sign.

We did run into a Yiga pair at the town gate. They’re getting too bold again.

“What?” Zelda’s tone went sharp in an instant, her hand already reaching for the makeshift second slate that Purah had given her a few months back while progress was made on a more fully functional option. She’d picked up the tricks of it remarkably quickly, enough that he was rather interested in seeing what Purah’s efforts on a better equipped slate could result in.

Exactly what I said. They’re gone now. Cowards. He dismissed the notion with a sarcastic wave of his hand.

“I should hope so, senseless pricks. I am not going to be taken lying down anymore, even if I must cryonis them to defeat.”

He snorted at the mental image of Zelda bashing down a Yiga with a giant pillar of ice and she grinned at him.

Thadd bludgeoned them with a pitchfork.

“Remind me to knight him sometime.” She swept over to the edge of the balcony to look down at their party of visitors, leaving him to collapse on his bed with a soft huff of internal deflation. “Gentlemen, you are welcome to Hateno Village. I am Zelda, and this brilliant lump of monster guts-” He made a noise of protest in his throat. “- Is the Hylian Champion Link. I believe introductions are in order, as I am certain my champion made no effort towards them?”

One of the possible heroes made a choking, coughing noise and was quickly hushed by at least two others.

“Right. Thank you, Link,” Zelda muttered. He raised one hand in a lazy thumbs up that was almost certainly ignored.

“You are Princess Zelda,” One of the travelers confirmed. Link could audibly hear the forced smile on Zelda’s cheeks as she answered the question with all the politeness and training she possessed.

“I am. But here in this peaceful village and home, I am just Zelda, an explorer and a scholar like any other across the realm. There is no need for a princess here. And you, travelers? Tell me your story while I make tea and some snacks. Link, hand over the slate.” Zelda turned back to face him with her hands on her hips.

No.

“I know for a fact you hid the fruitcake in there.”

Fuck. She outright laughed at that one and made for the staircase down, choosing to leave him where he lay. For a moment, he resisted the call, choosing to stare at the ceiling in faux disinterest, and then he hopped up anyway and followed her downstairs to the kitchen, ignoring the fifteen eyes on them as they passed.

“Our story is a strange one, to be sure,” The leader explained, eliciting eyerolls from his companions. “But I don’t suppose you are familiar with any legends of past Heroes?”

For Link, that rang all of three, maybe four bells. Reminders of a story of ten thousand years in telling and a watery picture of a dispirited Zelda speaking of a handful of their histories in a subdued ceremony. Nonetheless, he nodded to himself as he pulled up his slate and summoned a loaf of the fruitcake onto one of his cutting boards. Zelda, naturally, was much more animated on the subject.

“Yes, of course! Several really, there is the obvious story of the hero of ten thousand years prior to our current time, and then there are records of at least five others, one going as far back as even the Era of the Skies, the oldest we’ve managed to find in our current studies. Then there are some decent records of the Era of Twilight, which our Divine Beasts were reportedly named for, and further back, the Hero of Time himself! There are some scattered references to a time when Hyrule was entirely seafaring as well, can you imagine? An entire kingdom built upon islands! I should have liked to study it all in more depth had I had the time… Oh, Link, how much of the library survived? We should plan an expedition there next!”

Partial roof. Minimal fire and malice. Most shelves intact. We are not going until I clear out more of the guardians. She made a face and he shrugged, hands raised in surrender.

Several of the swordsmen looked at Zelda as though she had grown a second head and he snorted, returning to his fruitcake slicing with a flourish.

“Right.” Colorful tunic muttered softly. “Old Man, we should really just explain the whole thing, I think.” That got a reaction out of the others, and the leader- Time, apparently- sighed heavily. Zelda hummed curiously while she opened the cabinets, getting out the mismatched teacups she’d managed to salvage.

“Princess,”

“Zelda, please,” She reminded them. He nudged a corner of the fruitcake over the counter towards her and she popped it in her mouth.

“Zelda, then. My name is Link, as are all of my companions.”

Link spun before the man finished speaking with his hand on the slate and knife poised to throw. Zelda rolled her eyes.

“It’s a bit late for them to be assassins, Link.” Now that he was looking for it, he could see the subtle reactions in each of them when she said his name, from tiny flinches to minute ear twitches and small head inclinations. Which meant either they were exceptionally well trained… Or they weren’t lying. He huffed and let go of the slate somewhat reluctantly.

“We are all individual heroes of our own eras that have been gathered across space and time for another quest that we believe has something to do with a mysterious shadow and the black blooded monsters. And it seems we’ve been dropped here because we need the assistance of your hero as well.” All eyes shifted to him and he froze, gaze fixed on Zelda in panic.

Zelda didn’t reply at first, choosing instead to carry the chipped metal tray of cups over to the table and placing it down before looking up at the armored leader.

“I can’t imagine you all call yourselves Link, of course, with so many of you. How shall I address you all, Heroes of Past and Future?”

“We’ve been going by our hero titles and accumulating a variety of nicknames,” Colorful tunic piped up, looking around at his companions when none of the rest of them moved. “My name is Four. I suppose the tunic might give it away a bit.”

“I’m Wind! Best pirate on the Great Sea! Well, second best.” The youngest jumped into the conversation before anyone else even had a chance to react. He sent a brilliant grin in Link’s direction, practically bouncing in place for some reason. Blue scarf placed a hand on Wind’s shoulder for a moment, stilling the young teen for at least the time being.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wind.” Zelda gave him a diplomatic smile. Link couldn’t blame her for it, he was nearly overwhelmed himself, brain torn between registering small, blonde, excited and actually processing all of the heroes.

“I’ve been going by Warriors, plural. I… Didn’t choose it, mind you. It might be easier to call me Wars or Captain, if you prefer,” Blue scarf offered, hand still firmly in place on Wind’s shoulder. No, it did not help. It invoked the remnants of memories he’d rather keep buried, really, particularly on the captain front. But then again, the title itself… Eh, he’d figure out his feelings on the matter later.

“Why’d we let you get away with that, again,” Red tunic interjected with a bored look at Warriors from the opposite end of the couch.

“Because I refused to be called after the war itself, because I’m not that pompous? And because the two little shits I had to look after back then only ever called me Captain,” the scarfed hero fired back. The leader, Time, Link was fairly certain, started at that, shaking his head and clearing his throat softly.

“Boys.”

The pair stopped before they could get going, which was impressive to Link, if a bit intimidating.

“The boys call me Time.” Score one for his shoddy memory today. That appeared to be all on the matter for Time, if not Zelda, who immediately perked up, mouth already opening before Link tapped her shoulder and she turned to face him.

“What?”

He gave her an unimpressed look. She gave him one right back. They were interrupted from their impromptu staring contest by the second hero sitting at the table, the one with the white cape and the possible Master Sword, who was looking between them with undisguised curiosity.

“I’m Sky, but, um, you might also know my title as the Chosen Hero if you have the history I think you do?” His ears went red with the admission. Zelda’s look deepened to a full on glare directed at Link.

“There will be questions.” She pointed at him accusingly. Link shrugged, hands up in surrender. None of the other heroes took the statement as a threat, which was incredibly ill advised of them, but it was their funeral now, not his. He had tried.

“Well, all that’s fun, you enjoy that. Call me Legend,” Red tunic commented, the edge of boredom still in his voice. Link frowned.

“And why do they let you get away with that?” Zelda barely cast Legend a glance as she headed back into the kitchen where Link was. Someone choked and several shades of laughter filled the air. Link resisted the urge to grin himself. It wouldn’t do him any good to irritate these heroes as long as they were around, no matter how short that time ideally was.

“Zelda number a million and nine, you don’t want to know the answer to that.”

She does. He signed the statement with an exaggerated shrug. She really, really does. He blinked thoughtfully and then added, You’re welcome to try to stop her though, I can’t.

“Link!” Zelda’s face bloomed with red. His shoulders shook softly with silent laughter, even as she punched him in the arm.

Link caught the tail end of Legend’s approving nod, something he filed away to question later if the chance came up. Whatever had these heroes looking at Zelda so intently was either a significant concern to her health or something that involved him. Neither of those things boded particularly well for him and his interests.

Legend nudged the plain dressed kid standing next to him, the self proclaimed traveler, who jumped so badly that Link was almost concerned that swords would be drawn.

“I’m- Uh, I’m going by Hyrule,” He offered in a soft voice. Neither Link or Zelda had anything to say to that. Honestly, considering it was up to nicknames, there probably could have been worse. Certainly some of the things Link had been called were less than kind, and that wasn’t counting anything the princess had spat at him before they eventually managed to get through to each other.

That left one, the one with the wolf pelt and the strange facial markings and everything oddly familiar about him. The one that drove his brain to the edge of familiarity despite never having seen the man in his life, the one that tickled the edge of recollection just the way his home did, safety and satisfaction and all.

He wasn’t the only one staring, most of the group was watching their final member stare into the distance like the walls of Link’s home held the secrets of the universe in them. Time coughed softly, drawing the man back from wherever his head had taken him, somewhere confused by the lost look in his eyes. Link knew that look, fortunately or unfortunately. He felt it every day.

“Just call me Twilight.”

That certainly did it, Zelda’s expression brightening and mouth opening to begin her thrilled and overeager interrogation of the heroes- He wouldn’t deny that he was curious too, especially with the connection to the Divine Beasts, but at least he had enough awareness to see that most of them were more than a little off balance by their historical record- and he lunged for her with a soft hum.

“Link, stop it!” Zelda slapped away his hands. “I am well within my rights- It’s for the sake of science you underfed moblin! The Divine Beasts were my project!”

He shot her another unimpressed look.

And your project waited some odd thousand years in the dirt for you to dig it up in the first place! Science can wait for five minutes while you make tea!

“Science waits for no one, Link!”

You mean Purah waits for no one.

Zelda snickered softly, letting him go and turning back to bring out the hodgepodge plates in his cabinets.

“That is terribly rude, my Champion, but I suppose I did, yes.” She grabbed the plates and brought them out to the table while he focused on cleaning off his knife and only half listening in.

“Can we back up for just a second?” Blue scarf- Warriors- held up his hands in a time out motion. “You challenged that lynel because you were bored?”

Zelda snorted.

It was red! Zelda! Link protested aggressively, hands sweeping through the motions so he could reach to shove the cackling princess.

“That was beyond reckless of you,” Time admonished, and Link shrugged, face burning.

“Reckless is my Champion’s middle name.” Zelda smiled beatifically.

And disobedient is Zelda’s, He fired back.

“I will pretend I didn’t see that, for the sake of your continued longevity.”

Impa agrees with me.

“She wouldn’t.”

Desert. Zelda narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly on the defensive, and made a show of dismissing her attention on him in favor of the nearly brewed tea, but he wasn’t finished.

Frog hunt. Zelda’s ears reddened.

“Link.”

Frog eating.

“Link!”

This is my home, and we are talking about frog eating. He sent a malicious smirk her way and danced away from her attempt to hip check him into the wall as she breezed past him to grab the steaming kettle.

“I didn’t make that rule for you to embarrass me whenever you felt like it, you know,” She griped, expression thoroughly unimpressed. He shrugged and swept away the crumbs off of the counter, then passed her the cutting board of fruitcake slices as a peace offering.

He braced his hands on the counter, leaning his forehead against the wooden cabinet. Too much to think about. Eight real heroes who saved their homes sitting in his house and watching him. Looking for the him who died so long ago. Going on a quest that the goddess had volunteered him for. The background susurrus of noise broke with a sudden whistle and he flinched, nearly jumping into the wall in shock.

“Kettle,” Zelda reminded him softly, but not unkindly. He nodded, gripping the edge of the wooden countertop tightly to stay grounded. To keep his brain there. “Will you come sit?”

No. No he wouldn’t. He shook his head. Zelda nodded and settled herself at the table, leaving the chair next to her clearly open in a quiet invitation should he want to take it. She poured the tea for each of them and held herself like one hundred years had never passed while he internally fretted over simple memories. What a pair they made, broken champion and reluctant sovereign. Rhoam would have rolled in his grave to see it.

“Setting aside my own interests for now, do you know anything more about your Goddess appointed mission and the shadow you are chasing?”

The delicacy Zelda stressed on the phrase “Goddess appointed” was far from lost on him. Goddess appointed, indeed. They were better off done with goddesses for the future. Their service to Hylia was done- Certainly his was. He’d lost damn near everything, what else was left now, if he went on another pointless quest? Would he die again, for good this time?

“We’ve certainly seen the effects of the increasing amounts of monsters, and of course I had Link reporting evidence of the contaminated blood to me…”

Did Hylia really want everything from him? His home, his life, his memories, his family, his friends, were those not enough? He couldn’t leave. Not now. Who would protect Zelda? Who would help the travelers along the roads? Who would keep eyes on the new Champions? Who would guard and supply the slowly growing settlements? Could his kingdom manage without him to ensure their safety and protect their livelihoods?

If eight heroes weren’t enough, and they needed him, an imitation of a hero, who else needed help? What help could he possibly provide?

He breathed in slowly, then out. Control. That was what he needed now, control. Routine. Order. Zelda.

He let go of the counter and entered the living room in silence, drifting intentionally to just behind Zelda’s left shoulder and settling there, one hand down by her side and the other resting on his slate. To her credit, the former princess didn’t look up from her question and answer for even a moment, just silently slipped her hand into his hand below the table. He squeezed. She squeezed back and sipped her tea.

“We thought there were only eight of us until we ran into Link,” Sky admitted. “It’s been well over a month since anyone else joined our group.”

Zelda’s soft intake of breath confirmed his exact suspicions on that comment. If there was such a delay, Hylia had been waiting for him specifically. Her hands trembled as she moved, just enough that he could notice. He squeezed gently.

“Imagine our surprise when we were confronted by a lynel fight and prolific ruins while we wandered through unknown woods,” Legend noted in a dry tone.

“At any rate, our standard in a new time is to look around for information, locate the Princess Zelda of the era if possible, otherwise, we’re likely just chasing more shadows and black blood where we can find it. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the shifts that we’ve found, beyond the ones that introduced us to each other,” Time said, a hint of frustration underlaid in his voice and tapping fingers.

“Zelda, if I may, your, er, champion? Link. He explained to us that the hero of this time is… No longer living. It seems to us, though, that he is the hero we’ve been sent to this time to find. Is there a piece we’re missing, or,” Warriors trailed off at the end, looking as uncomfortable with the address as Link felt hearing it.

Zelda’s trembling stilled, the teacup landing on the plate with a gentle clink. Link winced and she squeezed his hand firmly.

“How much do you want me to say?” She murmured the question in perfect Sheikah, much to the apparent surprise of their guests. He shrugged and curled down his thumb on each hand before signing again, this time in Rito.

Enough.

“They have no rights to your life, Link.”

They won’t believe what we don’t tell them.

“Right.” Zelda drew herself up with a breath, wrapping her title around herself like armor. She really would be an excellent ruler, Link mused. He squeezed her hand gently and she nodded to herself.

“One hundred and two years ago, the signs of the return of Calamity Ganon, that which destroyed our home, were imminent. The crown excavated an army of fighting machines, including four Divine Beasts, all wonders of ancient technology, and appointed a champion from each race to pilot these machines against Ganon as our ancestors had ten thousand years prior. The hero had pulled the Sword that Seals the Darkness, the very same one that you are hiding on your back, Sir Sky.” Zelda glanced at Sky’s poorly concealed sword hilt, which earned her an uncomfortable shift from the apparent hero.

“But the princess, up until the eve of her seventeenth birthday, had been unable to awaken her inherited powers or even hear a whisper from the goddess. Calamity Ganon struck then, possessing the machines, slaying the champions in their beasts, and leaving the carnage you see today.” She paused, and Link squeezed her hand again. She glanced at him and nodded in reply, lips trembling as she pressed them together in a thin line.

“The princess Zelda and the hero Link ran for the safety of one of the last defensible forts, but were caught before they could get there.” Both of them remembered this all too well, in different parts and pieces. “The hero, as any hero would… He defended the princess, drawing all the guardian fire and refusing to leave her behind, not even for a moment, until the princess finally awoke her powers, too late to change the fate of the land. Or the fate of the hero.”

Zelda closed her eyes.

“One hundred and two years ago, the hero died in my arms. And I went to hold back Calamity Ganon alone for one hundred years. And then, two years ago, my champion awoke alone, without memories, no family, no home, and I begged him to save me and Hyrule.”

And I chose to do that. He reminded her. You were not selfish. You fought hard.

“Yes.” Zelda smiled wanly and wiped at her eyes. “So you see, you are a century too late for the hero you are searching for. All I have now is my champion, and I will not force him to be what he is not. Not the way we were before, never the way my father treated me. I will not make him choose between his life and our destroyed country. Should he decide to go with you… I will not stop him, should he desire to stay, I will not make him go. I ask you to please understand our situation. I am heir to a throne of nothing, Link is champion to a kingdom broken. There is no legendary hero or blessed princess here. Only memories.”

They received a series of horrified stares, Legend and Hyrule in particular exchanging discomfited glances between each other- Why, Link couldn’t fathom, it wasn’t like the world had ended- and Time slowly leaning back in his chair with a concerned look at Sky, whose face had gone pale.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Zelda’s voice trembled and she stood up, heading for the back door. Link stood and followed her, intent on not letting her go alone. She heard him, of course she did, and turned to stop him.

“Link, you know you don’t have to, there’s no-” He raised an incredulous eyebrow at her and she sighed. “Alright, fine, do as you please then, who am I to stop you?” She pushed open the door and headed outside, grumbling something about overprotective personal guards and ignoring orders that made him snort. The door swung shut on eight heroes behind them, watching them go.

The bubble in Link’s throat finally popped and he breathed out in a long exhale.

“It’s not an obligation, Zelda, I do it because I care.” He jumped off the porch, landing and rolling smoothly to his feet, and added, “I’d be a pretty shit friend if I didn’t.”

Zelda sighed and collapsed in the center of the yard where she stared up into the mostly clear spring skies. Her fingers traced wavy patterns back and forth through the unkempt grass.

“You have no reason to do so anymore, really, you never did. Especially with how I treated you.”

“My choice.” He raised a finger. “I’m choosing to forgive you for the past, and I’m choosing to continue amicably in the present. Just as I am choosing to hand you this sword so you can hit things and pretend that conversation in there didn’t happen.”

Link turned and stood over her, holding out one hand expectantly for her to take. He kept the other at his belt, holding the traveler sword he had just summoned from the depths of the Sheikah Slate.

“That is not my idea of stress relief, that is yours,” Zelda grumbled, but she reached up and grasped his hand anyway, allowing him to pull her to her feet and hand her the slim, beaten sword. He grinned as she switched hands, settling back onto her heels with the blade poised and ready.

“Alright, what am I hitting today, oh connoisseur of stupid ideas?” The glint in her green eyes was something he would continue to enjoy, he decided, especially as it meant he could get away with more ridiculous things than usual. He reached down to the slate and summoned a ladle into existence with a flicker of blue light. Zelda’s smile dropped, even if her eyes still sparkled.

“Absolutely not.”

“You bet, Princess.” He palmed the ladle in his left hand, decided it probably wasn’t going to break on him, and switched it to his right hand with a flourish. “Besides, how else are you going to learn to fight if I don’t teach you? You’ll need to fight against someone eventually.”

She gave him a flat look.

“And so I’m starting with you, the most skilled swordsman alive.”

“Why do you think I have a ladle?” He grinned mischievously and she groaned, allowing the sword to fall out of its ready position. He danced out of the way of the age blunted blade with practiced ease.

“Because you’re an idiot?” Link rolled his eyes and stepped closer to Zelda, tucking his ladle under one arm.

“Stay off your heels and roll forward. Your balance and movement is always better on the balls of your feet, save the heel-toe nonsense for court. Bring this arm up,” He tapped her elbow. “And relax both shoulders. I gave you a one handed sword for a reason, you know. Keep the grip balanced, the weight of the sword should pull on your shoulders, not your forearms. You’ll make yourself tired trying to hold everything up with just your wrists and elbows.”

Zelda raised the sword again, arms more sure this time, and he nodded and stepped back.

“Better. Now try to hit me.” He’d barely gotten the sentence out before the blade was falling towards him and he threw himself to the side with a snort.

“Maybe control the swing more next time, Zelda.” He tapped the blade with his ladle and grinned wickedly. “You’ll never get me that way.”

“Insufferable prick,” Zelda hissed at him, and the sword swung by again in a smoother arc that he smacked aside with the ladle. “Speaking of insufferableness, you and I both know perfectly well that hinoxes and taluses don’t attack unless provoked.”

“That is true, they don’t,” Link mused before bolting behind Zelda, forcing her to spin to keep up with him. “So what?”

“We also both know that there are faster and safer ways to get to Hateno than climbing straight over the Nirvata Plateau, experienced travel companions or otherwise. Going around the promenade that you had just seen fit to clear the lynel away from comes to mind. That southern line you took was awfully convenient, wasn’t it?” She lunged towards him and he danced sideways, whacking her shoulder gently with the ladle as she passed him.

“Telegraphing your movements. Keep your eyes on me, not where your body is going. And it’s very possible I saw an opportunity by going over Nirvata. Can’t I just want to get home faster without suspicion?” He spun, jabbing at several imaginary enemies with an elaborate flick of his wrist before turning to face her again and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Link, the only frequent traveler over Nirvata is you, nobody else wants to try to free climb those stupid cliffs.”

“They interrupted my lynel fight!”

“You’re an idiot!”

“Yeah, so what?” Apparently this was not the answer Zelda wanted, because she gritted her teeth and threw her torso into her next slash, which did mildly impress him. He waited until the last possible moment before backflipping out of the way just fast enough for time to slow itself for him. He darted behind her and bopped her twice on the head with the ladle, then backed away as time sped up again.

“You bastard!” She threw down the sword and lunged at him, and he did exactly nothing to avoid it because of how hard he was laughing. It was only fitting that he’d end up rolling in the dirt for about the dozenth time that day anyway.

“It was boring out by Mount Lanayru, what else was I supposed to do? How was I expected to know eight travelers would show up out of nowhere and distract me enough to get a concussion and a broken ankle? I had to redeem my honor!”

“You fought a hinox with a concussion?!” Zelda rolled off of him in an instant, examining his face with careful intent like he couldn’t be trusted to take care of himself. Maybe there was something to that thought.

“Uh, no.”

Zelda smacked his shoulder.

“I took a fairy tonic, it was fine,” He offered the truth as a placation. It did nothing to dismiss the incredulity in her eyes, par for the course. Not for the first time, he wondered just how much of his journey to save her she had actually seen in between her fight with Ganon, if such small things like a concussion drew this kind of reaction out of her. He’d done far worse, though he had also been able to infrequently die and revive then- ooh, that might have been why. He resolved to try and stress her about his health less in the future. She was probably more than a bit concerned about him dying again.

“I won’t do it again, I swear.”

She rolled her eyes then, which, ok, maybe he deserved that.

“You will. But we’ll worry about it then.” Zelda wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the patch of Silent Princesses that had taken root near the back of his yard. “What do you think?”

The question of the day, it seemed. What did he think about everything that had been shoved at him since encountering his apparent predecessors and successors? Was there any point in him thinking about it?

“Do you believe them?” The question escaped him before he could take it back. Zelda would be adamant about handing the decision to him anyway, as much of a decision as she could when it seemed not even death and a century passed could keep the title of hero from his shoulders. Hadn’t the goddess had enough of their fruitless service? Did she take pleasure in sending them out to fight again and again? Did it matter that he wasn’t a hero anymore? Apparently not.

“Unfortunately,” Zelda hesitated. “I… Find it quite hard to believe that they aren’t being truthful. The sword, it, we both know that only you or I could ever touch it. They carry it around as though it is simply an everyday occurrence. Several of them have an imprint of the Triforce, unbelievable though that is, and they even match the stories we know of the heroes of the ancient past. But if I want to believe them is a different matter.”

“Princess?” He glanced over at her, finding her green eyes on the scarred trails across his face.

“Zelda,” She corrected automatically. Her eyes trailed lower, down the scars along his neck and the warped skin that decorated his left side like a medal given for valor in the face of disastrous consequences. He let her look, holding still as she examined him for something unknown.

“Is it selfish to wish there was no princess and hero? Or even princess and knight? That we were just a scholar and a survivalist free to roam the world? I imagine the freedom would have been…”

“It would have been easier without legends to live up to.” He lifted a hand to feel his scars. “But what kid doesn’t grow up dreaming of being the chosen hero, drawing the Sword that Seals the Darkness?”

“What child is handed the weight of a legacy and pressed into silence because they had the gift of being able to touch a sword?” Zelda blinked at him. He looked at her blankly, no deflection coming to mind, only a cold truth.

“And what daughter is shoved away from her calling by her own father for not praying enough to a goddess no one has heard from in ten thousand years?” He sighed quietly. “We could go back and forth like this all day. The past is done. It’s not selfish to wish. Anything could have been done to make a change. But it wasn’t.”

Silence hung in the air, an unwelcome third party to their private conversation. Actually, probably fourth. There was no way they weren’t being watched.

“I wish I could just throw it all away now. Run away and hide in Hebra or something. No one goes out there, right? We could escape all of this legendary responsibility forever! No champion, no princess, no goddess nonsense. Pretend today never happened, that we never met these heroes. The kingdom is gone, if I can escape my duty… You should be able to as well.”

“They’re looking for the hero. We told them the hero is dead. Is that enough to make them leave?” He laid back in the grass to stare up at the nearly cloudless sky, one hand running idly through the soft soil.

“I don’t think so,” Zelda admitted. “I don’t even know if they believed me.”

“But the hero is dead.” He ran fingers over the twisted knot of tissue along his earlobe. He would repeat the fact until he was blue in the face if he had to. Regardless of if these heroes were truthful, they wouldn’t find their answers in him.

“Functionally, symbolically, yes,” Zelda spoke softly into the breeze. “But in the Goddess’s eyes?”

And there was really nothing more to be said on that. Whether or not he wanted to acknowledge it, the answer sat in his house behind him and was waiting for an answer.

“Can’t we make them go?”

He traced blades of grass under his fingers while waiting for a response he knew Zelda didn’t have, wouldn’t ever have. Who were they against the will of goddesses, after all?

“Do you want me to order them to leave?” Her soft question broke the heavy silence that settled around them like the fog of Calamity. He shook his head. Quiet reigned once again over the pair, thick and unwelcoming.

“I’m just… I’m tired, Zelda.” The admission stung his tongue with the sour taste. “I’m so tired of all of this fighting for something only to be told with each chance to rest that I’m not done. I remember a sword ordering me to draw my destiny, a captain ordering me to bend my will to his, a king ordering me to defend a princess that didn’t need saving, a princess ordering me not to die, and a Goddess ordering me to bring peace to Hyrule. And honestly, only one of those was appreciated, because dying really sucks. Now I’m being told I have to go again. I won’t lie, the prospect intrigues me, as I’m sure it does you, but what good is intrigue when there’s a kingdom to rebuild and most of my life to recover? Hell, some of the graves out there somewhere might belong to my family! It’s selfish to want more adventure at this stage! I want to rebuild this country and keep my home and make it safe for others, too!” He burst into a series of coughs, throat burning from the extended shouting on top of everything he had already said over the course of the day.

Zelda reached for his wrist, beginning to take off the wraps that he’d completely forgotten about.

“You can hardly call yourself selfish if I wasn’t.”

He shook his head in the beginning of a protest and she held up a hand to stop him.

“No. I asked you to save me and defeat an ancient enemy with no memory, at the risk of dying again after you had just woken up from one hundred years of rest. You did that without question and still insist that my request was not selfish. How can wanting your own freedom be any more selfish than that?”

It wasn’t. If anything, hers was the most selfish request out of any, begging him to do what had killed him before, but he had chosen that. He had chosen the moment he stood outside of the Shrine and had seen the world that waited for him. Zelda walked willingly to fight Ganon and so did he. He would never blame her for wanting to save the same kingdom he did. And if not him, who else would have taken up the task?

… Was that why the heroes were here?

Zelda leaned against his side, heedless of the scars, bruises, and burns that mapped his skin. She rested her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh. She would never judge him, he knew that. Why was answering the question and forcing himself to deal with these heroes so hard if his few pillars of support left only wanted him to just live?

“Link, we were lost children looking for love and our choices were taken from us. Now we’re free. What do you want to do? It’s your choice.”

“I think… We already know the answer,” He admitted to the wind. Let only the wilds he loved and the princess he relied on be his witness.

“Then do it safely this time, my Champion.” Zelda reached out and plucked one of the Silent Princesses from the patch at their feet, spinning it around and around with gentle fingers.

“Of course, Princess.” He could practically hear her roll her eyes at that one.

A few moments of silence elapsed, and a faintly scarred hand entered his peripheral vision and tucked the five petaled flower behind his ear with delicate precision. She never moved off of his shoulder, and he held still until she finished what she needed to do. He supposed he didn’t have to deal with his choices right away anyhow. They could always wait until later.

--- -*- ---

“They’re fighting,” Legend noted suddenly from next to the back door where he peered out of the window, blatantly watching their new member and his Zelda as though they hadn’t gone out to have a minute of privacy in the first place.

“They’re fighting?” Wind echoed in excitement.

“What do you mean they’re fighting?” Sky looked about as lost as Time currently felt.

“I mean,” Legend pointed out the window, “She is swinging at him with a two hand grip on what is clearly a one handed sword, and he is dancing around her like she’s not even moving and parrying her with a fucking soup ladle.”

“Language.”

“I wanna see!” Wind jumped up, but was beaten to the window by Warriors, who elbowed Legend aside, ignoring the indignant squawks and Wind’s attempts to shove him out of the way to observe for a moment before nodding.

“Yeah, the vet’s not kidding.”

“Why would I be kidding, you-”

“So,” Time turned back to the table, glancing between Twilight and Sky. “The new hero ambiguously “woke up” two years ago, fights lynels because he’s bored, provokes hinoxes for fun, breaks weapons and shields at an alarming rate, and weaponizes kitchen implements.”

Twilight hit his head against the table.