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Dear Link,
Malon’s fingers tap restlessly against the paper, and she holds the quill well away from the blank sheet to keep it from dripping while she thinks.
I have some very exciting -
She scratches out a word, thinks, rewrites.
I have some very important news. I know you’ll be away for some time, but I think -
No.
I hope-
No.
but there’s something you need to know -
She strikes the words through, thinks, rewords.
I know this is the worst timing possible, but -
In a fit of frustration, Malon crumples the sheet of paper and tosses it into the pile of her discarded previous attempts. She rubs her eyes with a sigh; the pile is much bigger than she would like.
She wishes Link were here. He would come up behind her and put his arms around her waist, and she would fold her hands over his, and he would nuzzle against the side of her head and ask what was frustrating her so much. She would tell him, and he would puzzle out the right words with her until the letter was perfect.
But Link isn’t here, and he is the one she’s struggling so hard to write to.
She sighs and picks up a new sheet of paper. This is important; she’ll keep trying until she gets it right.
“Hey! Link!”
As one, the nine members of the group Link has found himself in turn to answer the summons. They shoot each other awkward glances as they realize they all responded, but the postman jogging up behind them doesn’t seem to notice or care.
He rummages through his bag as he slows to a stop, then hands out several envelopes. “These are all addressed to Link.”
“Thank you,” Warriors says gratefully, taking the stack and almost absently keeping them out of the grasp of an excited pirate trying to snatch them.
The postman tips his hat and jogs off again.
“I still want to know how he gets around,” Legend grumbles, taking the envelope that Warriors hands him.
Twilight shrugs, passing a letter along to Wild. “I don’t. Askin’ questions ’bout that kind of thing leads to answers you don’t want.”
Wind finally gets his hands on an envelope with a gleeful cackle. “Who cares?? It’s mail time!”
A mail delivery is always a cause for high spirits. They all miss home dearly, after all, and news from their loved ones is always welcome. Even when only one of them gets something, the reminder that there are people rooting for them buoys them all up. Most of the group ends up with a letter this time around, though - Wild, Warriors, Wind, Legend, Sky, and Link himself.
Wind tears his letter open and pulls out a drawing, beaming with delight. “Aryll drew me a picture! Look, it’s her seagulls, and her with her spyglass -”
“Very nice, sailor,” Twilight says genuinely, leaning in to get a better look at the drawing.
Sky is sighing dreamily at his own letter. From his Zelda, Link assumes. No doubt someone will start teasing him about the sugary sweet contents within the hour.
“Oooh,” Wild hums, leafing through the pages he was sent. “An update from Flora on rebuilding efforts.”
“They’re building you a statue?“ Four asks with glee, standing on his toes to read the letter over Wild’s arm.
Wild holds the papers above his head, his face flushing. “Shut up!”
“You’re gonna be famous -”
A scuffle breaks out as Wild tries to get Four into a headlock without dropping the letter.
Legend, predictably, reads over his letter and shoves it into his bag without commenting on it or letting anyone else see it. Link knows who it was from, though - he saw the large, looping script on the front, and there’s only one person he knows of who writes like that. It really isn’t necessary for Legend to hide how often he and Ravio write to each other, but it’s rather amusing to watch him try.
Warriors doesn’t read his letter right away - he’s busy trying to break up the scuffle and keep Wind from getting involved. The neat print of his name on the front tells Link that it’s a message from his Zelda, likely a status report on the goings-on of his era, so he likely thinks it’s safe enough to leave for now.
Link smiles to himself and steps away from the group to open his own envelope. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees it, the curve of his name in his wife’s handwriting always lifts his spirits.
It isn’t a long letter - not surprising, Malon tends to be more articulate in person than in writing. He’ll treasure every word anyway.
Dear Link, it begins, and Link will never be tired of reading those words. Dear Link.
I hope you’re doing well. I know Wild is keeping you fed, but I also know what you boys are like, and I worry.
He wishes she wouldn’t worry so much about him, but the fear is reasonable. They do face danger and death on a regular basis. And he can’t refute that “what they’re like” is holders of Courage, not of Wisdom.
The cows and the horses are all healthy, she assures him. Talon has been stepping in to help while you’re gone, and we’ve been able to get everything done around the ranch just fine. I might have to hire someone to help us soon, though.
On that note, I have some important news.
Link frowns. What kind of news could be related to hiring help? Could something be wrong with Talon? He’s getting on in years, and though he frequently insists he’s fine, he can’t do as much as he used to. If he were sick or injured somehow… No, surely Malon would have said so already. What could it be, then?
I debated not telling you this, at least not for a while, Malon admits, and that shocks him. They haven’t hidden important things from each other in a very, very long time - not without extremely good reasons. Malon goes on to explain hers: You have enough on your plate saving the world, and I don’t want you worrying about me in the middle of that, because I know you will. But we’ve moved past keeping secrets in our marriage, and I trust you to be safe even knowing this.
Link, I’m pregnant.
The world stops.
Link can hardly breathe as he stares at those three words, reading them over and over and over.
Pregnant.
Malon is pregnant.
He feels -
He isn’t sure what he feels.
Happy, certainly. They’ve been trying for months, and he’s so glad that they finally have a chance to raise a family together.
But also…
It took Link a long time to come around to the idea of children. Growing up, his father had been a tree, whose final words had been for nine year old Link to go save Hyrule; he didn’t exactly have the best role model for how to be a parent. But even more than that, it had taken him a long time to accept that he could stop now. That he could rest and heal. That he could afford the luxury of a family.
It had almost been a relief, in some ways, to be called on again.
But now, to hear that Malon is pregnant after all, while he’s off in some unknown era, fighting monsters and chasing Shadows… there’s something horribly bitter in that. Of course it would be now. Of course he wouldn’t be able to share in the realization and the joy. Even he, “retired” as he is, isn’t allowed to have that.
I know this isn’t the timing we wanted, Malon says, which is both true and woefully inadequate to cover the way Link is feeling. I know you want to be here for this. I want you here for this. But you’re needed where you are, so I’ll just have to write to you more often and tell you how the little one is getting along.
I love you, Link. Stay safe - for both of us.
Malon
Link reads the letter again, then just… stares at it for a minute.
Malon is pregnant.
Link isn’t there with her.
It feels like some sort of cruel trick, that they should have tried for so long and succeeded only now. Link is allowed to have a spouse. Malon is allowed to have a child. Neither of them is allowed to have both at once.
The cruelest trick of all is that he seems to have dragged the woman he loves most into the curse of rotten luck.
“-ime? Hey, Time!”
He blinks and looks up.
The boys are all staring at him. They all look worried, in their own ways, even Legend and his faux aloofness.
“Is… everything okay?” Sky asks tentatively.
“Did someone die?” Wind asks far more bluntly.
Warriors hisses a reprimand, lightly smacking Wind’s shoulder, then gives Link a sympathetic look. “If something did happen…”
“It’s nothing,” Link says automatically. He folds the letter with the same care he uses for every letter from Malon, then tucks it away. He can process the joy and the grief and the bitterness later. “Just… some things that startled me, that’s all. Everything’s alright.”
No one believes him, that much is extremely obvious, but they don’t push. They all learned a long time ago that pushing each other on sensitive topics only leads to explosive arguments - and literal explosions, on one memorable occasion.
It’s only later, as they all camp under the stars and the others fall asleep one by one, that Link allows himself to think further on the letter.
He knew that he would have children one day, of course. Twilight is living proof of that. When he first discovered the blood tie, he had taken it as a happy omen, a signal that when all of this was over, they could build a family that would endure generations. Something lasting and beautiful and safe. But now? Now, it feels like the goddesses are laughing at him.
“Ancestor?”
The word is soft in the quiet night. It makes Link flinch anyway.
Twilight stands nearby, blue eyes nearly glowing in the dark. He looks somber.
He is, perhaps, the only company Link would be willing to bear at this moment. He moves aside on his log bench to make room for his descendant.
Twilight sits down, and neither of them speak for a long time.
“Is it Malon?” Twilight whispers at last.
Link looks up at the stars, and wonders if his wife - centuries removed - is doing the same. “She’s pregnant.”
“Oh.”
Somehow, that one word captures all of it. He understands, Link realizes. He understands both the good and the bad, the joy and the sorrow.
Link can’t look at him. He just keeps watching the stars. “I should be there.”
“Yes,” Twilight agrees quietly. “You should.”
“But I can’t be.”
“No, you can’t.”
Link’s eyes burn with the very beginnings of tears, and he indulges that little corner of his heart that never stopped being nine years old. “It isn’t fair.”
A hand rests, palm up, on his knee, and Link takes it without looking down.
Twilight gives his hand a small squeeze. “The timin’ is awful. I know how bad that can weigh on you - Uli was pregnant durin’ my adventure.”
Link hadn’t known that. He wonders what else he doesn’t know about Twilight.
“But don’t forget to be happy,” Twilight whispers into the dark. “Don’t let go of that.”
Link nods, turning to look at his descendant for the first time in this conversation. “… I won’t.”
Twilight nods back with a small smile. “Good. Have the two of you thought of any names?”
“A few,” Link says, a smile tugging gently at the corners of his mouth, too. “I suggested Epona.”
Twilight snorts - quietly, so he won’t wake the others. “You’re gonna name your kid after your horse?“
“Only if it’s a girl,” Link corrects him.
It still doesn’t feel entirely happy. That bitterness still curls in Link’s stomach, reminding him of the injustices of the universe. He still wants to be there with his wife. But sitting in the dark with his descendant, laughing and talking, reminds him that there is happiness here, too. Someday he will sit with his own child like this, and they will sit with their children. He will start a legacy.
“I am proud,” he tells Twilight eventually, “that one day, my child will lead to you.”
Twilight’s eyes are round in the moonlight. “You mean it?”
“Every word.”
It’s true; as much as he wishes things were different, as much as he would never have chosen another hero coming from his bloodline, he is proud that it was someone like Twilight. He’s a good man, and Link is glad to know him.
“Thank you,” Twilight says, voice thick with unshed tears, and Link pulls him into a hug. The hesitance to ask for anything comes right from Link, he knows it does, and he has to stifle a small chuckle at the thought of that trait staying around so long.
He wonders what the baby will take from him.
He’s excited to find out.