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The one thing Zelda hated the most was when her father, the king of Hyrule himself, belittles her efforts; blaming her for doing less, commanding her to do more even though she has been doing a lot, and forbidding her for wanting to do what she wanted. This ‘dynamic’ has been going on for years now that the wound in her heart has been cut too deep, it has now formed a large scar right in the middle of its surface. Although her father has apologized for it, a mere “I’m sorry” does not simply heal the blemish that was constructed throughout the entirety of her childhood to her teenage years. Try as she might, it was downright impossible to ignore the gash caused by the sharp, abusive words of her own father.
Siting on the settee of her chambers in darkness, Zelda found herself contemplating those exact thoughts. Her father’s expression of regret from a few days ago replaying in her mind like a broken record; “I wished I was there for you.” And her reply to him then was, “You are here now, and that’s all that matters.” However as of current, her mind screamed her heart’s second and possibly, real answer; “Telling me this now; it’s too late.”
Because it is too late.
The wound wasn’t fresh, the wound has been in development for years, and now it is a large mark; a mark etched in bold, painful letters, ever a reminder of what she believes she is, what she was told she is; worthless.
In all honesty, hearing the words “I wished I was…” coming out of her father’s mouth made a rush of what-if’s playing in her head; what if you were there? Would have everything been more bearable? Would I not waste my tears crying at night? Would I have not hated myself?
Before she could dwell more into it, a soft knock on her door awakens her from her spiralling thoughts. She puts on her robe before approaching her chamber’s entrance, turning the knob, and slowly peeking out through the tiny gap.
Finding the gentle blue eyes of the person on the other side, Zelda immediately opened the door wide enough to see his entire figure, still neatly dressed in his Imperial Guards uniform despite the shining moonlight outside.
“Link!” her voice high pitched, but a whisper, pleasantly surprised to see her appointed knight, her best friend now, despite the bizarre hours of the night.
“Princess–” he started, however, his sentence was cut short once he processed the tears running down his Princess’ face. Without a second thought, he cups her face with both of his gloved hands and rubbed his thumbs to catch her tears.
Zelda did not even realize she was crying. She wished to hide her face, embarrassed for the weakness she was showing, but Link’s hold on her jaws made her stare into him as she fought back a blush.
His eyes darted between hers, searching for something – perhaps signs of physical pain. When he found nothing of the sort, he quietly sighed a sigh of relief.
With both hands still cupping her face, he started once more, gently caressing her cheekbone with his thumbs as he asked, “What’s wrong?”
A silence.
How do I respond?
Such a simple question, yet a million answers popped up in her mind, inevitably overwhelming her thoughts as tears formed in her eyes anew. She didn’t mean to cry, she meant to stay strong, especially in front of Link, who she knew was battling his own demons. But alas, his question was… too kind, too caring. Yes, he has asked that question to her before, but she has yet gotten use to his tender side. She often finds herself feeling immensely emotional when in regard to Link, that even a simple soft question was able to break her dam.
Staring into his eyes, her lips trembled, and her cheeks quickly become wet. His eyebrows scrunched and he slowly shook his head, as he mouthed ‘no, no, no’.
He let go of her jaw and placed his hands on her shoulder instead, turning her around and slowly escorting her back inside her chambers as he sat her on her bed. Without a thread of hesitation, he sat next to her, giving her a side hug, and comfortably slotting her head to his strong chest.
“I’m here. I’m here.” He cooed as he ran his fingers through her golden hair.
She cried harder, because that just how it has been these days, hasn’t it?
Link was there. Always there. Always.
Sure, they had a bumpy start, but his presence has always been a constant in her life, be it to her liking or not; he’s always there. Unlike her father, who could only wish he was. ‘Wish’ because he never was. Not even right now, she thought as she fists Link’s uniform.
“Talk to me, Zelda.”
Slowly but surely, she opened up despite the hiccupping.
“I was thinking about father’s apology. I think I’m selfish.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because…” she choked. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried again, “…because I think it wasn’t enough.”
Link hummed in understanding.
She continued, “When he told me he wished he were there for me back then, it made me think; well why didn’t you? It’s selfish of me to think that way because he has apologized, and I’ve forgiven him, then why does my head think of these spiteful comebacks as if nothing can change how I feel?”
“Because it’s not that it can’t change how you feel, but it’s that it can’t change what he did; it can’t change the past.”
She looked up at him, staring into his eyes as his stared into hers. His eyes full of affection.
“Zelda, years of trauma don’t just disappear after a single sorry. Not even a hundred sorries would cut it sometimes.” Her lips trembled more, as he continues, “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be stuck feeling this way forever. Time heals. It always does. And I’ll be there with you throughout the journey.”
Those words brought a gentle smile to her tear-stained face.
“Tell me more of what’s in your mind. Talk your head off.” He smiled back, patting her head tenderly.
She rested her head on his chest once more, wrapping her arms around her torso, and giving him a proper hug.
She wanted to hesitate at first, but quickly found out there was nothing to hesitate about, “Despite being surrounded by a lot of people, it still feels very lonely. With my powers back then still remaining dormant, I always thought that I had nothing to offer; I’m not a talented swordsman, I’m not a chef prodigy, and even when I’m passionate about something, I was denied of it. And to top it all off, I’m… I’m annoying because I talk too much about a single thing, and I’m either overly emotional or outwardly cold and dismissive.” She chuckled, but the man whose chest her head was resting on did not.
She continued, “I guess… all that time made me really self-conscious about myself. The strangers, the people who supported me, were mere facades of the real side of them who would talk behind my back. Friends, the occasional Good Luck’s and You Can Do It’s, were appreciated, but… but when you hear that one important person say they regretted not being there for you when you’re no longer in that utterly painful state, the rush of what-if’s playing in my head hurts more than I thought.”
Link let her words marinate in his head for a few minutes, leaving both of them in a comfortable silence as he continued to stroke her head, basking her in the support she desperately needed.
Finally, he responded, “You’re not annoying.”
Zelda tilted her head slightly to catch Link already looking at her.
“You’re not annoying and you’re neither too much nor too little of anything. You’re your own kind of personality and that’s what makes you Zelda. You’re perfect,” She let go of him to sit properly, keeping eye contact with him as he continues, “and enough to me, if it counts.”
“It counts.” She responded as new tears made their way into her eyes, “It counts to numbers I couldn’t.”
He smiled, “that’s a big number, considering how intelligent you are.”
That made her laugh, and she found herself wondering how does he do it? How was he able to flip her negativity upside down in just a few words? During times like this, she wonders how does Link; someone who says so little, would often, if not, always says the right things.
Perhaps he really is just special. Her special.
Tired_Twili Thu 27 Jan 2022 04:59PM UTC
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