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I’m still your Zelda.
Link fights the lump rising in his throat as he backs away from the golden crystal suspended before him, stumbling a little on the cracked stone pedestal below his feet. His fists ache from slamming against the amber structure and his throat is sore from screaming her name, but he scarcely notices the pain over the even fiercer wound in his heart.
She is gone.
Asleep in the crystal, frozen in time for thousands of years, her light dimming like the sky outside the temple as dusk falls. He can feel her warmth fading out of the room, the very same warmth and life and joy that has surrounded him since they were children.
But now, like her, it is dwindling, and the room is growing cold.
Link drags the back of one gloved hand across his face, catching the last few tears still staining his cheeks before he looks up at her a final time. Her face is serene, the gold of her hair accentuated further by the crystal, but he wants nothing more than to see her smile again. To hear her laugh. To look into her eyes again and dare to think he sees his own love reflected in their depths.
But in spite of his wishes, she is still trapped within the crystal, and the temple is growing dark, and his heart has broken into a thousand irreparable shards.
He turns away, boots scuffing on stone as he moves back to the main room of the temple where Impa still waits and the massive purple gate turns in endless rhythm. Impa says nothing, merely giving him a slight incline of her head and watching as he comes to a halt.
“It’s done,” Link manages to say, voice strange to his own ears. Ragged from screaming her name as the light surrounded her. Weary from months of travel, away from her side. Weak with longing for a heart that cannot be his.
Not anymore.
Impa’s eyes close for a brief moment. “You know what you must do, then,” is all she says, and Link can barely summon the strength to nod.
The other side of the gate is no more comforting than the one he just came from. Groose and the old woman wait for him to speak, but Link just shakes his head numbly and goes to sit in the cool, lonely dusk outside the temple. He leans his head back against the crumbling stone wall and watches as the sky rotates through shades of red and pink and gold before finally it deepens to a velvety blue.
Link sighs. He’s so, so tired. He wants nothing more than to curl up and sleep. Just five more minutes, and he’ll resume his journey. Just five minutes of rest. That’s all he asks. That’s all he needs, and then— and then…
His head droops forward, eyes beginning to drift shut. He can feel sleep coming to guide him away into blessed relief free of consciousness. He is just on the verge of it when her voice rings out in his mind.
I’m still your Zelda.
Link starts, the echo of her words jolting him from his stupor. What is he doing? Tired or not, he has to keep going. For her. So her sacrifice will not be in vain.
Come on, Link. Get up. You can rest later.
Wearily he drags himself upright. Wearily he straps his sword and shield to his back again. Wearily he downs a potion so he’ll at least have something in his stomach. Wearily he moves forward into the darkening twilight, away from the temple.
Away from her.
“Still my Zelda,” he murmurs to the night, and keeps going.
❀ ❀ ❀
She’s still his Zelda when he spends hours swimming through the flooded forest till he is beyond exhausted, till everything looks like a tadtone and his head is swirling.
She’s still his Zelda when he gets crushed by a boulder and wakes in a Bokoblin prison with a splitting migraine and bleeding wounds, and is forced to spend the night searching for his stolen gear even when he wants nothing more than to rest.
She’s still his Zelda when he finds the massive skull in the desert, abandoned deep in a canyon gorge where lonely winds blow.
She’s still his Zelda when he learns that he has one more Silent Realm to face, though this one horrifies him so much more than the rest because it’s on his territory. His homeland. His Skyloft, where he and Zelda grew up together. Where he realized how much he loved her but could never find the courage to say so to her face.
But even through it, even through the fear as footsteps hammer the earth behind him, even through the choking panic as blades slice the air at his heels, even through the wretched disappointment when he fails, again and again, and has to relive his failure over and over and over—
Even then, she’s still his Zelda.
He repeats it to himself like a mantra, till it is the only thing that gives him any purpose, till nothing more can keep him going through the blood and pain and exhaustion. Her smile hangs in his mind every time he snatches a few precious moments of sleep, and the memory of her laughter pushes him onward till at last he reaches the final dungeon.
“Still my Zelda,” he whispers through cracked and bloody lips as he watches Sky Keep burst forth from the cliff in a shower of dirt and rocks.
“Still my Zelda,” he pants as he runs through room after room, going in circles that lead him nowhere and make him hopelessly lost and confused.
“Still my Zelda,” he croaks from beneath the massive foot of a Moblin, its leering face and putrid breath lingering above him as it drives its spear into his ribs.
Still my Zelda, he thinks as he forces down a potion and cleans his wounds as best he can, because it hurts too much to speak.
And when the crystal finally shatters, and her warmth and light fill his heart once more, his eyes flood with tears of joy. He can scarcely move. He can scarcely breathe. Because that’s his Zelda, and finally she’s awake.
Finally they can be together again.
“My Zelda,” he whispers as he catches her in his arms and cradles her to his heart. He sinks to the floor, fingers entwined in her hair, her scent surrounding him. She smiles weakly and hugs him as best as she can, ear pressed against his chest where she can hear his heartbeat thumping loud and strong.
“Your Zelda,” she murmurs back, and fumbles to catch one of his hands, tracing her fingers over the scars that now crisscross over his skin. She looks like she wants to say something more, but tears are filling her eyes and she can’t speak.
Link senses what she is thinking, smiling and bumping his forehead gently against hers as he pulls her even closer. “Don’t blame yourself like I know you are, because I would’ve done it a thousand times over,” he whispers. “In a million lifetimes.”
“But why?” she murmurs, hands coming to cup his face as she looks at him with eyes full of love. “I’m just Zelda.”
“Wrong,” he corrects her softly, brushing hair behind her ear. “You’re my Zelda. And me?”
Their hearts beat as one as he finishes, “I’ve always been your Link.”