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It was over. He had defeated the Demon King Ganondorf.
He slowly slid the Master Sword into its scabbard, its gleam dimming with an air of finality. He still stood upon the head of the Light Dragon – Zelda – and the wind ruffled his hair.
Rauru’s arm pulsed and glowed, attracting Link’s attention. He lifted it up to have a closer look – the light grew, getting brighter. Link closed his eyes, stumbling back slightly, though enough to fall down on his backside, onto the impossibly soft fur of the dragon.
The light disappeared – taking the arm with it.
In its place, was Link’s original arm. It felt exactly as it did before he lost it. he flexed his fingers, running his left hand over his right.
The dragon climbed altitude, and Link turned to her.
Ever since he saw the memory of Mineru explaining the draconification process to Zelda, a pit had settled in his stomach, nestling its roots of fear into him. So, when he saw her last tear, and she consumed the Secret Stone and turned into the dragon, the pit had blossomed into……fear? Unacceptance? Dread? He knew that it couldn’t be undone; both from Mineru’s words, and the counsel of Impa, who had spent many hours researching if there was anything they could do.
Many of those hours had been spent with Link sitting beside her, desperately searching himself.
He felt, even though Ganondorf was destroyed, that he had failed. Yes, he had succeeded in saving Hyrule as its chosen hero, and the wielder of the Master Sword, but as a knight beforehand, and Zelda’s personal knight at that, he had failed to protect her.
He hated the feeling of self-loathing that coiled itself in his mind.
He gazed at her vacant eyes with mourning fondness. Curling his fingers through her hair, he reached into his pouch and pulled out a Silent Princess – he had been collecting them to upgrade his tunic, but had been left with a surplus afterward. He, with upmost care, braided its stem in her golden hair – using the technique Zel taught him for horse manes – and once done, he kissed her forehead. Tears forced their way into his eyes, and he shut them, still having his head pressing against her.
“I will visit you soon. I promise.” He whispered to her.
The wind picked it up, drowning it out – so even if she did understand, she didn’t hear.
Taking a deep breath, Link wiped his eyes, stood, and ran a hand over her horns.
Then he jumped.
Duty came first, so the first thing Link does is visit Lookout Landing. Purah was overjoyed by his report, though her energy goes when he says that Zelda is still the same – clearly she was clinging to the same foolish notion he was, and that they truly believed that his Princess could be turned back. Word was immediately sent out by Rito messengers to all towns and units that the Demon King had been defeated – Purah insisted there be a nationwide celebration, including a party at the Landing. She invited Link, though he declined.
He just didn’t feel like celebrating.
He felt sick to his stomach, and almost doubled over, when he went to the mini-stable at the Landing to get his horse, and saw Zel’s golden stallion standing there. With the back of his hand, he stroked the soft nose, and, working through the lump in his throat, he quietly requested the horse.
Link didn’t put the royal gear on the horse; instead, his personal favourite travelling tack. When he mounted, he nudged him on, holding the reigns in a white-knuckle grip. Only when he was far out of anyone’s sight so that his reputation wouldn’t be tarnished, did Link weakly dismount off of the horse, and wrap his arms around the animal’s neck, letting the tears trickle out and down the soft coat of the horse.
His name was Admiral, and he had caught the horse for Zel about a year and a half after Calamity Ganon had been vanquished. She adored him, though his gait was a bit bouncy and he strayed fearfully from water. When Link lifted his head from the golden hair, the look in the horse’s eyes was almost empathetic. But an animal couldn’t do that, so Link put his head back onto his neck and let a few more sobs out.
Link first visited Rito Village to personally tell the news to Teba and Tulin. He planned to go to every Sage eventually, but right now he went to the Rito. He ran into Tulin by accident on the way up the steps, and he got dragged up by a very excited chick. Teba embraced Link warmly, though he could see the sadness in the Rito’s eyes at the mention of Zelda. A feast was hosted in his honour. Link stayed to be polite, but ever since the fight with Ganondorf, his appetite hasn’t been the same.
After, he left the festivities of the late night to sit on a take-off platform, his legs dangling off. He looked up to the clear, dark sky flecked with stars, and one lone dragon of gold and white.
Link wrapped his arms around himself, wishing it was her arms holding him in an embrace, even just once more. He tucked his head into the soft fabric of his tunic, unable to look at her.
He took a break on his way to Zora’s Domain to slay some stray monsters – even with their evil master gone, some still loitered, though since the Blood Moon’s disappearance, they could no longer come back, and the efforts of Link and the Monster Control Crews had been slowly ridding the land of monsters. A lynel left some reminders, cuts deep on his arm, of the dangers of carelessness.
Link sighed as he struck a final blow down on a silver boss bokoblin, waving the purple smoke away. He whistled Admiral over and took his time getting on – weariness had drilled into him, for Link had been avoiding sleep like the plague; every time he drifted to sleep after hours and hours of tossing and turning, his dreams would twist images of Zelda into his mind – of how he had failed her, and of how she had to sacrifice everything for the sake of him and Hyrule.
Those nightmares left more injuries on Link than any monster ever could.
When he reached the wet watery palace of the Zora, Sidon greeted him with a cheer and a hug – Link had to hold his breath in order to keep his composure, instead of slipping, and crying into the King’s shoulder. Honestly, he had been feeling more uncontrolled than a sea during a storm lately, and the Hero anticipated that something was going to tip him over the edge, into the boiling sea, any day.
Again, like the Rito, a feast was called. And again, Link accepted out of politeness, but did slip out once he thought it was deemed morally acceptable. He had strode down one of the pathways, not caring where it led.
It didn’t take him long to figure out that he was followed from the party.
Link sat down, the cold residue on the tiles seeping into his trousers. Sidon sat with him, taking his crown off and setting it carefully to the side. They were quiet for a few minutes.
“How are you holding up, Link?” The King asked delicately. Sidon had always been good at reading him – even though most people struggled with Link’s blank face and responses, Sidon – and Zel – had a knack for understanding, even when Link couldn’t talk about it.
His silence said enough for Sidon.
“It was not your fault that it turned out the way it did, Link. Zelda did what she had to, and though she cannot be with us, I do believe that she is content where she is – wherever that may be, though I think…” he paused, swallowing and running a finger around the details of his silver crown, “that she is with my sister. Princess Zelda saved Hyrule, Link, and even though she has left us – you – behind, she still cares, and her love shows through her actions taken to protect us.” Sidon put the crown into his lap and looked to the palace, saying nothing more.
Link nodded, and squeezed his eyes closed, letting his head drop and forbidding tears from emerging. A soft hand rubbed his left shoulder, and Link looked over to Sidon, who gave him a toothy grin – though the happiness in his expression did not reflect in his eyes; only an understanding sympathy lay there. Link breathed deeply and thanked him.
It turned out that the one fated thing that would tip Link over the edge to plunge into his untended and pushed-aside grief was a fucking hot-footed frog. He was idly looking for ingredients for elixirs, and while crouching in the grass, a frog cheerfully hopped onto his knee and croaked deeply. Memories of Zelda trying (and succeeding) to feed him a frog, and hours spent around the cooking pot outside their house in Hateno, mixing elixirs and showing her how to use the frog properly, flooded him and it became too much for him to handle.
His legs slid from under him and he fell to his elbows on the grass, the frog hopping away. Unbridled, pure emotion struck him hard, blinding his senses. A suffering groan echoed from his throat, and tears fell like a torrent from his eyes. His body shook uncontrollably, fists frantically tearing at the grass, clawing for anything to hold, anything that could bear any comfort, as Link was thrashed by his suppressed feelings come to light. His stomach turned without warning, and he threw up his breakfast, the putrid, acidic mess mixing with his salty tears still cascading down his cheeks and summersaulting off his nose. Snot and mucus soon followed as Link choked and wretched at the taste of his sick.
Sweat coated him, drenching his clothes and making the gentle wind feel like ice against him. His dirty hair, which hadn’t been washed since before the final fight, clung to his neck. When it finally all seemed to stop, and Link could kind of breathe again, his body tremored, and he tipped over, falling and quaking on his side. He lay in that spot beside the pool of vomit and tears, because his body couldn’t move any more. All of his energy had left him, drained from his outburst. He felt empty. He curled up in the foetal position, shivering and missing his love.
Though Link should have visited Kakariko Village a lot sooner than he did, he had been subconsciously avoiding it. Impa was Zelda’s best friend, as well as her Royal Advisor. He didn’t know how to face her, or what to tell her. He had failed, that much was obvious, but saying that wasn’t enough to comfort someone who is grieving. When Admiral finally walks through the quaint settlement, all he sees is cheer. These people don't know what happened – no one really does. Purah, Teba and Sidon thought it best to leave the general public unaware until all leaders had been informed. Link suspected there was going to be a ceremony of sorts in Zel’s honour. He reluctantly stopped the horse outside the chief’s house, lifting his hand in a greeting gesture to the guards out front. Feeling like his legs were heavier than normal, he dragged himself up the stairs, and slowly pushed the door open.
Impa was sitting on a chair to the left, with Paya on the chief’s cushion directly in front of him. Both heads lifted to look at him. Impa hobbled over to him, and grasped his hand. She didn’t speak, and nor did he; the longer the silence, the sadder Impa’s eyes grew.
“I see. So there really is no way to get her back,” the old woman rasped unprompted. Link nodded, and looked away. He fiddled with the sleeve of his tunic – the one Zelda gave him. Paya gazed on, confused, until her grandmother went over to her, and murmured to her. Link didn’t catch what she said, but it wasn’t hard to guess. Paya gasped, and tears started in her eyes. She looked back over to him.
“I am so sorry, Master Link. You have my deepest condolences.” He just nodded, and left, nearly falling down the stairs. He headed to the inn, planning to drink the evening away – but to his disappointment, he only got three drinks in before he was found by Dorian and asked to join Ladies Impa and Paya. They had requested for him to join them for as long as he was staying in Kakariko, and because he felt like he didn’t have a choice, nodded to Dorian and followed.
The dinner was nice, but the sadness surrounding it was stifling. Impa looked like she had been crying, and Paya rarely uttered a word. Link couldn’t do anything other than eat a small picking off of his plate. He was provided a free room in the inn, so after the meal, he bid farewell to the chiefs – but Impa stopped him.
“What do you plan to do now, Link? Now that Ganondorf is gone, as is……as is Princess Zelda?” Link regarded her for a long while, before whispering,
“Protect Hyrule, as always.”
It was the first words he had spoken in months – loneliness tended to do that to a person. He went back to the inn, downed a few more drinks, and headed to bed; but did not manage to get to sleep.
Gerudo Town was next, and Link had to fight a particularly nasty Fire Gleeok to get there. With a new burn on his leg, he sweated through the desert, listening to the sand scraping on his shield as the sand seal he rented pulled him towards the town. He let it return to its master when he reached the sandstone walled home of the Gerudo. He waved to the guards and entered, feeling the cooler air hit him, and the sound of water soothe him. He wasted no time and strode to the Palace.
Riji, sat upon her throne, smiled at him when he entered. They exchanged greetings before Link filled her in on the goings on of Hyrule. Though she was already informed of most things due to the messengers, she listened with rapt attention to him. When he was done, Riju stood and approached him until she was standing a foot away. She slowly raised her arms around him, letting him know what she was doing, and stepped into him.
After a momentary pause, Link embraced her back, gently at first, until he was squeezing her with all his might, shoving his head into her shoulder. It was pleasant, and Link was grateful. He pulled away first, and Riju held his elbow when they had separated, her eyes glistening wetly.
“I know you miss her, Link. I do too, we all do, but I know none of us can fathom how much you do. Just know, we’re here for you.” He nodded, and gave her a shaky smile. Riju didn’t host a giant feast, only a small dinner between him, her, Patricia, and Buliara. Quiet and peaceful, with him being allowed to serve his own size of platter, Link could honestly say it was one of the better days. He was given a room to sleep in the palace, and after a short walk around the town, Link returned to sleep.
The last region to visit was the gorons on Death Mountain. Thankfully due to the cooling of the volcano, Link could ride Admiral up right to the settlement – it made his journey a lot easier. Luckily, both the chief and Yunobo were together when Link found them. He was greeted with a slap to the back, and after a quick discussion about the future of Hyrule, he dodged the offer of a rock roast, and left as quick as he had entered, galloping Admiral down the blackened roads. He wanted to see his Princess.
“Hey, Zel, I'm back.” Landing lightly on her back and tucking his paraglider away, Link made his way up to her head and sat down, tucking his legs in.
“I brought you some flowers.” He took out some silent princesses that he had gathered and began braiding them into her hair, humming and talking to her. Things had been getting better for him – he had been eating and sleeping more, and he grew to handle the grief. Visiting her always made Link feel a lot better, so Link had been going a bit more often, always bringing flowers for her.
“So, in a few days, Purah, Paya, the sages and I are going to the Great Forest to talk with the Deku Tree. We’re gonna decide…what the future of the kingdom is without you, and a royal family.”
He made a string of flowers and wound them around her right horn.
“After they decide, I’m going to formally resign my position as a knight – and as the hero. I would like to spend the rest of my life following you, my dear.” He wrapped another rope of flowers around her other horn. Out of silent princesses, he lay on his back, tracing circles on her muzzle, watching the sky.
“I miss you, my flower. More than I can speak.”
Link slowly placed the Master Sword back into its stand, under the Great Deku Tree’s protection once more. Link felt sad to let it go, never to wield it again, for it bore remnants of Zelda and her efforts to save the kingdom. The meeting among the trees was certainly eventful. With the absence of the Goddess bloodline and the last of Hyrule’s royal family, it was deemed best to establish a council to rule the kingdom. After the council had been decided, and the meeting was coming to a close, Link had stood up and declared himself to be resigning, both his title, job and sword. Many there disagreed with his actions at first, but it only took a miniscule explanation for him to be let go of. He didn’t want a ceremony in his honour, and was satisfied with his legacy, and all he was as a hero, to be placed away to rest, along with this sword. Kneeling to it, and whispering thanks for its aid, Link turned his back to the tree and the sword, and left the forest.
He ended up in Hateno, and after speaking briefly to Reede, he sold he and Zelda’s house. It bore too many memories, ones he couldn’t handle, not for years, so he sold it. Of course, he took any items of value for some comfort, like her favourite books, her diary, their blanket that was given to them as a gift, and the photos she liked to take and put up around the house. He tidied up her well before he went, placing her belongings in boxes with care.
He didn’t look back as the golden horse carried him in the direction of Mount Lanayru, up to the Spring of Wisdom.
The waters surrounding the spring weren’t as cold as they should be, and Link always wondered how the Goddess Statue could control water temperatures, but he shrugged it off as he prayed for his Zel at the statue. He knew it probably couldn’t help, but it eased his pain just a tad.
The next time he visits her, he's shocked at what he sees. Though its been two weeks since his last visit, before the summit in Korok Forest, when he had made coils of silent princesses around her horns, and braided a few into her hair, the flowers still shone like they had only been picked an hour ago. They should have died, withered and wilted. The ties between the flowers were still immaculate and perfect. Tears welled in his eyes, and he gave a watery chuckle.
“You have always loved these flowers, Zel.” He had brought more, so again, he talked to her absentmindedly while decorating her with flowers. This time, he had also grabbed one or two safflinas and sundelions as well, so, he made a long chain of blue and white, scattering in random yellows, purples and oranges into it. Once he was satisfied with its length, he gently winded it around her head, creating a crown of flowers for his princess. The floral, fresh scent calmed him, and he sat down.
“Thank you for keeping the flowers alive, Zel. I……. I am sorry, but I sold our house. I don't know if you had of wanted me to keep it, but I cannot bear the place without you. Now that I plan to follow you forever, there's no point of keeping it. I hope someone can be happy in that house. Now,” he reached into his bag.
“I brought you your favourite book. Allow me to read it for you.”
It had been fifty-one years since the great fight between the Demon King Ganondorf – a fight that had gone down as legend. Hyrule was recovered, towns and cities rebuilt, and many being constructed for the first time, new settlements cheerful and happy. The leaders of each region, along with the chief of the Sheika and the mayor of the New-Castle Town made up the Council of Hyrule – Tulin, Sage of Wind and Leader of the Rito. Yunobo, Sage of Fire and Leader of the Gorons. Sidon, Sage of Water and King of the Zora. Riju, Sage of Lightning and Chief of the Gerudo. Paya, the Chief of the Sheika. Purah, the Mayor of New-Castle Town. They governed Hyrule well, caring for it and nurturing it. The highest threat that rose under the rule was the last dredges of monsters, but even they met their end twenty years after Ganondorf did.
There was peace.
Every day, on the anniversary of the defeat of Evil, a holiday called the Princess’ Sacrifice was celebrated through every town, every street and every house for three days. Princess Zelda was never forgotten, and her love was remembered every year. And, every year, on those three days, one could maybe catch a glimpse of a beautiful, gold and white dragon soaring the skies, adorned with silent princesses. It was a phenomenon no one could figure out – why was a dragon covered snout to tail in chains of lovingly-woven flowers, laced around every horn and spike, and braided in her hair?
Her knight, her hero, her Link, not that anyone knew, had faithfully brought her flowers every week for those fifty-one years, and took hours weaving them around her. He often also brought books up with him, a new one every trip, and read to her. Every flower stayed alive and pretty, even the ones he first left on her. In fact, those first flowers seemed to get even bigger, their petals more colourful, their tips bearing traces of gold.
Though he did not ask for it, the third evening of the Princess’ Sacrifice holiday was dedicated to the Princess’ knight, and what he did for the kingdom. He was often seen wandering on a golden horse, a crown of white and blue flowers on his head, and flowers tucked between his ears and looped around his neck. As the years climbed though, he was seen less and less – he grew old, had many different horses, but he never stopped wandering.
Now, fifty-one years later, he sat alone on a quiet cliff facing the sky. This had become one of his favourite spots – the sun warmed the worn dirt that Link had sat on many, many times. It overlooked the whole of the kingdom, the one Link adores, and silent princesses littered the cliffside. There was a large oak tree that he liked to lean against, its huge leaves providing pleasant shade.
The light dragon often also passed by this cliffside.
Link was old, and tired. He wanted to be with her; he never stopped wanting that. He smiled and put a new flower behind his left ear.
“Well, Zel, I think I'm ready to join you now. It’s been a while, my flower. I shall see you soon.” He proceeded to take the hylian shield off of his back, and set it on his knees. He stayed like that for many hours, unmoving.
A dragon covered in flowers soared overhead, taking her usual route. The hero looked up, and smiled at her. His breathing slowed and slowed, until the wind took his last breath. The dragon, whom until now had never strayed from her path other than to fight Ganondorf, stopped suddenly, and headed for the cliffside. She slowed, and flew a hand’s reach away from the ground. A tear dripped down her face, briefly catching on a flower braided in her fur, before falling onto the knight’s lap. Her large nose grazed his face, before she rose into the sky once more, letting a sad bellow echo through the skies.
The light dragon, blessed and covered in flowers, was never seen again. Ones that knew the Princess and her knight believed they had gone to join each other at long last. If one was to venture up the cliffside, they would see an oak tree surrounded by silent princesses, and a hylian shield, undamaged and preserved, adorned in a wreath of flowers. A breath of wind ruffled the flowers, and if one looked close enough against the edge where the flower petals met the hero’s shield, they may see a pattern of a dragon.