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bahbahhh · 10 months

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begin again

Chapters: [2 ] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

The Calamity is gone. The remaining leaders of Hyrule gather for a Summit to determine the future of the kingdom, starting with how to repurpose all the Sheikah Technology. Zelda is among them, and while everyone still calls her Princess, she’s not sure she wants to lay claim to an old throne. What she really wants is to move on. She wants to continue her research, to prove her worth beyond her bloodline, and to spend as much time with Link as she can…which sounds an awful lot like what she wanted a hundred years ago…

[ A story set between BotW and TotK, containing many spoilers for TotK as it was born from my need to explain many of the changes we see. A tremendous thank you to @zeldaelmo who volunteered to beta read this before she knew what she was getting herself into. I am immensely thankful for your eagle eye and your patience. ]

chapter 1

for the prompt “yearning”

Zelda doesn’t have a bed.

She thinks about this lying on the spare one in Purah’s study. She’s staying with Purah for the Hyrule Restoration Summit, which is what they are calling the first official gathering of Hyrule leaders since the fall of the Calamity, and the more she thinks about it, technically speaking, it's a cot.

It’s not unlike the one she uses when they are in Kakariko, albeit a few inches shorter, like everything else customized for a child in Purah’s lab. Zelda has to lay at an angle to fit and even so, her feet dangle over the edge when she straightens her legs. Symin offered her his bed, as Paya had in Kakariko, and like there, Zelda declined.

When she traveled a century ago, families were forced to give up their entire homes to host her. Royal quarters were permanently built in Kakariko, Rito Village, Gerudo Town, and Zora’s Domain. Due to the hostile environment surrounding Goron City, the Gorons agreed to travel to Akkala Citadel whenever there was official business with the Royal family which, in addition to a military fortress for the Hyrulian armed forces, acted as a second residence for her family. Another bed.

But that was all before. Akkala Citadel is in ruins, all the Royal quarters have since been repurposed by their respective domains, and Zelda will never ask anything more of the people of Hyrule so long as she draws breath.

Still, selfishly, and in the safety of her own thoughts, she yearns for the comfort of a real bed. Nothing extravagant, no need for anyone in Hyrule to forfeit their comforts on her behalf. Just somewhere she can readily count on for rest when sleep decides to visit.

That’s what Link says: a visit of sleep.

They are alike in this way. Their internal clocks recalibrated in the prolonged absence of waking, such that their bodies don’t readily cue the need for sleep. In the beginning, it took her weeks just to register the sensation of fatigue again. She stayed awake for two full days after the final confrontation on Hyrule Field before collapsing abruptly during the climb up to Kakariko’s western entrance. Link had to carry her the rest of the way. She slept for ninety-two hours straight.

When Zelda finally awoke, someone was smoothing her hair out of her face. Another sensory experience she needed to register again: touch. Not toxic oil on her skin, claws of shadow raking down her spine, or darkness pulling so tight it feels like it might become one with her. Actual human touch.

She hoped it might be Link in a delayed return of her affections for a heartbeat, but when she opened her eyes, it was an old Sheikah woman at her bedside. Zelda’s expression must have soured or pulled with confusion, because the woman began to laugh. Laughter. Warm and inviting and familiar. The sound vibrated inside Zelda like a bell. She gasped, set her hands on either side of the women’s face and felt a sudden and painful ache that has accompanied every subsequent realization of her losses.

She will never age like she was meant to. With the people of her time, with the people she loved.

And after a century in stasis, she is on the verge of being completely left behind.

“Now, it’s not that bad, is it?” Impa teased.

Zelda didn’t answer. She wept.

It has gotten a little better in the months since she returned to her physical form. She’s started to suspect Link is “visited’ by sleep out of preference more than necessity. But really, he slept for a hundred years, so she can’t blame him for rejecting a more traditional sleep cycle. She, on the other hand, was frozen. Not sleeping, not waking, just there—like gravity itself. Holding everything and everyone in place, unnoticeable until she wasn’t, when the Calamity would slip free of her grasp, swirl about the castle, and remind Hyrule of the horrors that awaited them if she failed again.

Zelda smudges a tear against the side of her face and turns onto her back. Regardless, she can’t help but feel like having a bed, a ceiling overhead she recognizes, and the freedom to get up and roam down to a kitchen for a slice of fruitcake when the night is still young, that she might be visited by rest more willingly when she wants it. Needs it.

Like tonight.

“So, what you're really talking about is wanting a home,” Zelda tells herself, a habit formed in the decades of solitude. Sometimes, in periods of dormancy or resignation, the Calamity would growl back at her in a tone that was almost human. But for the most part, she started talking to herself in and out of days and throughout the years until her sense of time too was a thing Hylia claimed in penance for her failures.

“That’s not accurate,” she chides herself and flips onto her stomach. Blaming the Goddess is a bad habit she is trying to change. When she finally unlocked her Powers, suspended in divinity, the closest to holy she’s ever been, the Goddess didn’t even answer her then. It was just the sound of her own voice, echoing back at her from inside the Calamity.

A bed. Something simple and fixed, like the one Link has in his house right on the outskirts of the village. Zelda’s caught glimpses of it when they’ve stopped there to replenish supplies; nestled against the wall on the second floor, beneath the only window so natural light kisses him awake when he finally decides to rest. He has a small dresser for linens and travel spoils, and a bedside table that is home to a painted vase from Rito Village he often fills with fresh flowers.

She wonders which flowers are watching over him right now. Has sleep visited him? Or is he rolling about his sheets, worrying about the Summit, trying to break old habits, or craving something warm from the cooking pot down the stairs?

If he is awake, it is likely the latter. He would be able to sleep on a night like this. The air is cool. Everyone at the Summit knows him personally; is indebted to him in some way, although he carries no ledger. He is known. Respected. Tomorrow is just another day. Sleep will visit.

Zelda’s role in all of this is yet to be defined. While news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat spread quickly, there was no whisper of the lost Princess’ return at first. Rumors focused on the disappearance of the shadow around Hyrule Castle and then later, turned into formal requests for Link’s presence in the aid of investigating the Divine Beasts sudden malfunctioning. No one asked about her.

And it was nice.

For a brief moment, she fantasized about cutting her hair, burning her dress, and letting Zelda disappear with the embers into history. Maybe she would accompany Link as a traveling scholar under another name? Or join the Sheikah and train with the weapons she was forbidden to touch a hundred years ago?

Impa, however, had other plans. She suggested Zelda travel with Link to investigate Vah Ruta so the Zora could verify her identity. They found her old travel clothes, Link presented her with a descendant of her horse, Storm, and the dreams of obscurity ceased. The Zora instantly recognized her, adding credibility to the announcement of her return and soon, her identity grew heavy with an unspoken claim to a throne that needed rebuilding.

No one has officially said anything, but there is a generous amount of speculation surrounding tomorrow and the opportunity to reestablish a centralized and unifying governing body. If they asked it of her, she would have no choice but to accept, right? It is the duty tied to this life. This title.

Maybe she could convince them of her usefulness as a scholar? She no longer has any restrictions on time spent researching. She could help the Sheikah redesign their technology. Perhaps to aid in the great restoration…if she could just get the Divine Beasts up and running again, they would prove so useful in the rebuilding!

This part of her, shunned by her family and now forgotten with them, could be the key to proving her worth beyond a head to carry the crown. She will show them. She has to. They don’t seem to know what else to do with her, otherwise. Rarely does anyone use her name, even after they realized who she is.

They all call her ‘Princess’.

Except for Link.

Zelda turns onto her side and inspects the empty sliver of cot beside her. She runs her hand across the weaving and thinks about how she used to be able to visit Link. When the Calamity was dormant and her Power was still new and untaxed, she would separate a part of herself from Hyrule Castle and ride the wind to the Great Plateau. She watched the seasons turn by Link’s side in the shrine until the Calamity would wake and pull her back into herself like a rubber band. This went on for decades.

When he finally woke up and the shrine’s toll for restoring his life was realized, Zelda felt her strength begin to waver. She is not aware of a word that accurately describes the feeling of being forgotten by the person you tethered your heart to; to have it remain connected to that person and witness it drift behind them, becoming more of a dark cloud than guiding light.

Her love for him burned for a hundred years. Somehow, in the depths of a living, breathing, rageful hell, it grew. It grounded her within the swirl of eternal darkness, the unyielding burn of malice, the mourning of time. As his memories of their kingdom, their comrades, and of her, returned to him, his reckoning of it all remained indistinguishable.

The last six months between them were uncomfortable. He never outwardly answered her question on the field. He extended his hand and led her away from the castle. He was gentle yet reserved, closer than the three paces he once stood as her appointed knight and still somehow further than when he sunk into the glowing waters of the shrine and she stepped into the center of the darkest night. Did his love die with him on the field that day? Was it left in the spot where he bled out, where flowers now grow? Has one unknowingly ever made it back to his bedside table? Could he recognize it now?

Did he want to?

She glances over her shoulder quickly, half expecting him to be there like he always was all those years ago, appearing out of thin air, as a part of her as her own shadow.

But there is no one else in the room. Her shadow is empty. Her window shut.

Zelda turns her attention back to the empty spot beside her and begins to imagine the weight of his arms around her. The sound of his sleep. His breath on her face. The cot is small, like his bed, but in the way she imagines they might fit together, it would be enough for sleep to find her. Even on a night like this.

But there is no one else in the room.

Just her and a bed, that's not even a bed, that doesn’t belong to her.

—

Sleep doesn’t visit her.

Zelda eventually gives up and pours her energy into drafting up a proposal on how to repurpose the Sheikah Technology. The Divine Beasts will be a tremendous asset. Vah Ruta can create new water reservoirs. Vah Medoh can mass transport supplies and people across Hyrule. Vah Rudania and Vah Naboris will be essential for maneuvering the harsher terrains of each region.

She is confident she and Robbie could reprogram the guardians and assign them different purposes. She will recommend they remove all of the mechanics for combat, save for a select few machines that will be assigned to aid in monster defense.

Their greatest challenge will be finding a new power source. When Zelda obliterated Calamity Ganon from the realm, her Light purified every non-living thing it held influence over; every pool of Malice evaporated instantly and every guardian -earthbound, skyward or decayed- from the North Akkala Beach to Daval’s Peak stopped working. Robbie has yet to find a working ancient core and hypothesizes Zelda “nuked the network”. Whatever that means.

The Sheikah Towers and shrines remain functional, so once they isolate the remaining source of power, she is confident Robbie and Purah will be able to design and power up new cores.

If only she had access to the old blueprints in her study…

On her way down to the main floor, she scribbles a note about returning to the castle upon acceptance of the proposal. She folds the pages carefully and tucks them into the small leather satchel Link gave her. Purah assumes ownership of the Sheikah Slate whenever they come to Hateno, so Link presented her with a satchel enchanted by the koroks so she can carry multiple items outside of the Slate on her at all times. Link has an identical one.

He jokingly calls it an ‘adventure pouch’.

Purah, Symin and a few others are already buzzing about the lab. Purah has the Sheikah Slate in the Guidance Stone, a tear drop of crystal blue bouncing between the stone and the Slate every few seconds. Zelda always thought it was interesting that information takes the shape of a teardrop. Was it intentional by the Sheikah who created the technology all those years ago? Or is it just the natural form of data? Of memory?

There is so much for them to learn.

“Good morning, Princess!” Purah says without looking up from her work. Zelda decided earlier this morning, just as the sun started peeking through her window, not to fight the title of Princess anymore. She would help them rebuild the kingdom, sit on a new throne if they asked it of her, but she would have a hand defining the responsibilities of the title.

“Good morning,” Zelda answers.

Purah rapidly flaps her hand in Zelda’s direction. Zelda moves into the spot beside Purah, who is balanced on her knees on a pillow in order to sit level with the table. There are sketches of the Sheikah Slate, looking very much like a six year old drew them, along with an unflattering portrait of Symin, and handwriting Zelda won’t even attempt to decipher.

“I think I can duplicate the Slate,” Purah says, snapping her fingers.

Zelda grins. She imagines each region having their own Slate. The possibilities for research, for communication. How quickly Hyrule could share information…the problems they could solve!

Link pushes open the door to the lab. Zelda imagines how his shoulders might relax the more Hyrule becomes connected. His burden would finally be eased...then maybe…

“Good morning!” She practically bursts.

Link waves and crosses the room to the cooking pot. Symin starts explaining what he is cooking and Link casually dumps the entire contents into the fire. Symin sighs in relief and pulls out a notebook. Link produces the ingredients one by one from his pouch, displaying each carefully so Symin can copy the recipe. A dozen eggs, Hylian tomatoes, assorted mushrooms, a handful of greens, and a tiny bottle of Goron spice. Zelda’s mouth waters before he even starts cooking.

She watches Link demonstrate how to slice the tomatoes before setting Symin to work, involving Symin in the salvaging of the meal and in doing so, lessening the blow of his failure. It is a change in Link’s behavior she has loved witnessing: he is eager to share his knowledge after awakening from the shrine; to spread it generously with everyone who asks for his help. In this way, he is teaching Hyrule how to need him less in the long run, a step forfeited a century ago by the pressure he felt and the structure of the role assigned to him.

Hero, knight, swordsman; whatever title he is to carry moving forward, she will protect his freedom to define it as well.

They eat quickly and head down the hill toward the village together. Hateno is the chosen location for the Summit because it has the largest settlement of Hylians, who, as a whole, have been without formal leadership for over a century. Central Hyrule was initially considered given the proximity for all participants, but the general consensus is six months of calm is not enough time for anyone to meet comfortably in the shadow of the castle.

“I heard this is the first time King Dorephan has left his domain in two hundred years,” Purah whispers to Zelda as they turn the corner down the split in the road to Hateno Pasture. A farmer named Dantz offered up his land, which borders Lake Sumac, to host. The water provides an added measure of comfort for the Zora. Zelda spots King Dorephan sitting close to the shore with several elder Zora and Prince Sidon.

There are a handful of Hylians mingling with leading members of the Sheikah, Rito, Gorons, and Gerudo.

Purah and Symin split off to join Impa, who is sitting in the shade of a nearby tree with Paya. Their movement pulls the attention of the crowd in Zelda’s direction. She watches recognition ripple across the group. The conversations soften and then die off completely at the mere sight of her. Just like old times.

Zelda flexes her fingers.

Suddenly, there is a hand in hers. She jumps, glancing to her side where only Link stands. He’s looking right at her, the same way everyone else is, but she doesn’t feel the weight of the crown on her shoulders in his gaze. He squeezes her hand and nods her forward.

“Right. Okay, then,” Zelda whispers.

Link leads her around the crowd so she can make introductions before the Summit starts. She is already known to the Sheikah, who are represented by Impa, Robbie, Purah, Symin, Paya, and Cado, and the Zora. Prince Sidon embraces her and compliments Link relentlessly.

It is Zelda’s first time meeting the Goron Boss, Bludo, who introduces Zelda to a young Goron named Yubono and emphasizes he is a descendant of Daruk, as well as the Rito Chief, Kaneli. He is joined by a Rito warrier named Teba, and his son, Tulin, who begs Link to go shooting with him later that day. Link offers the fledgling a thumbs up and then gestures like, you want to go now, quick?

Teba scolds them both.

Her favorite introduction is the last one. Chief Makeela Riju, who insists Zelda calls her Riju, informs Zelda the Gerudo sun has missed her and personally invites her to come meet her pet sand seal.

There certainly is a lot of personality, but Zelda feels certain the proposal will appease them all equally. The fact Link’s hand has remained in hers the entire time only boosts her confidence. Should she request the floor immediately or wait to see if there are region-specific needs she can weave into her proposal? She wants to emphasize the importance of each region’s involvement.

“I think it’s time,” Impa makes her way out of the shade with the other Sheikah and takes the spot closest to Zelda. “that we begin again, don’t you all agree?”

“Well said. The Zora recognize the start of the Hyrule Restoration Summit,” King Dorphean says.

“As do the Rito.”

“And the Gerudo.”

“The Shei-kah!” Robbie throws his hand in the air and postures.

“Gorons,” Bludo grunts.

“The Hylians have elected four representatives: I, Reede of Hateno Village, Elder Rozel of Lurelin Village, Hudson of Tarrey Town, and Traysi for the Stable Association. We recognize the start of the Hyrule Restoration Summit.”

“I officially call this meeting to order.” Impa claps her hands together and sits. She thanks everyone for traveling and for the village of Hateno for their hospitality. She summarizes the objective of the meeting as a gathering of the people of Hyrule in preliminary discussions about plans for a massive restoration following the purge of Calamity Ganon. She explains the forum will be open, but organized, in order for accurate minute keeping. Everyone motions in favor of detailed records. There are too many nameless ruins, too many stories and lessons lost to time scattered across Hyrule.

“Since there is no old business to attend to, I suppose it might be best to open the floor up to hear any initial recommendations for the restoration?”

Link raises his hand.

He so rarely speaks out loud that the anticipation of it commands the attention of the entire Summit immediately. It might be her imagination, but Zelda swears the wind stops, too.

“Let the record show the Hylian Champion and Hero of the Wild, Link, has the floor,” Impa dictates and gestures for Link to continue. Zelda fishes her proposal out from her adventure pouch and folds it in her lap. Whatever he says, she’s assuming he will have some brilliant suggestions on how the former trade routes can be optimized or offer insight into the state of Central Hyrule for an exhibition, it will provide the perfect opportunity for her to follow.

Link turns and smiles at her as he rises. It’s small. Relaxed. The kind of smile that’s only meant for the space between two people. Which means it is meant for her.

She smiles back.

With her plans for the Sheikah Technology, which will no doubt be strengthened by Link’s expertise, they can face this new Hyrule together. Self-chosen, this time, not forced by fate and the responsibilities of an old kingdom.

Her heart flutters so rapidly at the thought, it takes her brain a moment to register what he actually says:

“I propose the first step in the restoration of Hyrule should be the destruction of all Sheikah Technology.”

#totk spoilers #totk #totk fanfiction #totk fanfic #totk zelink #botw zelink #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #loz totk #zelinkweek2023 #zelinkcommunity #bahbahhhart #bahbahhhwrites #begin again

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cooking-with-hailstones · 3 months

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I currently have a wrist injury and I am attempting to write fan fiction via speech to text. Mixed results with often hilarious effect. Speech to text can handle words like zonai, Zelda, etc. no problem. However, I think it's spelled hateno differently every single time.

Picture the scene if you will, I am lying on my couch, and I am saying the word hateno over and over again.

Here are the results:

Hotteno

Patano

Potato

Hot Taylor

Patina

Hatena

Hate no

Anyways tag yourself I'm Hot Taylor

#chronic injury things #wrist pain problems #writing #fanfiction #hateno #botw fanfiction #totk fanfiction #Emily talks

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sokkas-first-fangirl · 5 months

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Can I interest you in a silly little sneak peek at “Iridescent,” the sequel to “Luminous” in these trying times?

Tauro was clearly the best candidate. He was among the first to discover new Zonai ruins in the cave systems and, what’s more, he was nearly fluent in Zonai. He’d uncovered so many interesting facts about their mysterious ancestors and their way of life. He’d been studying them since he was a teenager; he’d been highly recommended by every scholar Zelda met.

That didn’t stop Zelda from blushing like a fool as she did her best to ignore his muscles. Gracious, but he truly had a lot of them. On display. Glistening in fact.

Help, she thought, even as she smiled graciously.

“Thank you, Tauro,” she said. “It’s been lovely to meet you. I’d be delighted to have you lead our Zonai Survey Team.”

He grinned in triumph and thanked her profusely, bowing at the waist. Just as he opened the door to leave, Link walked in. The two bumped into each other. Tauro gave a bark of laughter and moved to the left- just as Link did. They both moved to the right and, grinning broadly, Tauro lifted Link and deposited him at Zelda and Purah’s side with ease.

“I won’t let you down, Princess!” Tauro swore, saluting her a final time. With that, he left.

Purah strained her neck out of the door to watch him go.

“Holy Hylia, I hope he’s single,” she said with a low whistle. “I wanna climb that man like a tree.”

Zelda could only hum helplessly in response. Her face felt too hot. How was that man real?

Link looked a little dazed, his cheeks flushed pink.

“Are you okay, Link?” Zelda asked with a grin.

That was one strong reminder that I like boys too, Link signed.

“I know what you mean,” Zelda sighed. “Gracious, I hope I wasn’t ogling the poor man.”

#tauro totk #princess zelda #link totk #link loz #purah totk #tears of the kingdom #totk #sneak peek #totk fanfic #totk fanfiction #my writing #iridescent #i saw how the fandom reacted to tauro #only stands to reason the characters will react the same way #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #snippets

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link-posting · 3 months

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Sleeping in Stables

Link could barely keep his eyes open. He hadn’t gotten much sleep for a few days now. It wasn’t always easy finding a safe spot to camp, and with the recent Blood Moon he had spent some time with the Monster Control teams clearing out a few of the larger monster dens. He was slumped over his horse, a speckled white mare he’d named Haven, resting against her neck as she trotted along. She kept a steady pace, as if she understood her rider’s current state. She followed the dirt path instinctively, letting out a nicker as they approached Outskirt Stable.

“Good girl,” Link said quietly, patting the side of her neck. He made a mental note to give her a treat later- maybe a few apples, or Endura Carrots if he had any. He smiled as the sound of the stables filled his ears- the neighs and snorts of horses, Myti greeting and waving to other travelers, Beetle clapping in time with the Stable Trotter’s music and hawking his wares.

“Good evening, Link!” came the gentle voice of Toffa from where he stood, overseeing the stabled horses as they munched on their hay.

“Good evening, Toffa,” Link said with a small, tired smile. Toffa headed over to him, taking Haven’s reins as Link slid off her saddle. “Are you well?”

“I’m well enough,” Toffa said with a chuckle as the pair walked toward the stable entrance.

“Back bothering you?” Link asked, looking over at the elderly man.

Toffa chuckled and nodded. “It is, actually. Seems there’s a storm rolling in,” he replied. He couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised that Link remembered he had back pains, though at this point he shouldn’t be. It seemed Link had trouble with remembering events, but he never forgot a detail about the people he met. It wasn’t the first time Link recalled such a minor detail.

“Guess I got here just in time then,” Link returned, patting Toffa on the shoulder as he headed inside. He waved to Embry as he yawned, his feet dragging as he headed over to the check-in counter. “Good evening, Embry. Is there a free bed?” he asked, already digging in his pouch for a Sleepover Ticket he’d gotten from Addison.

”For you? Always! Do you want a wake up call?” he asked, taking the ticket from the young man and placing it under the counter in the till.

Link shook his head and waved his hand. “No thank you. I have some sleep to catch up on,” he said, yawning again, stretching his arms over his head as he walked over to one of the beds. He sat on the edge, setting his things down beside the bed and collapsing back into it. He didn’t even bother crawling under the blanket, electing to simply curl up in the center of the bed and promptly falling into unconsciousness.

Embry couldn’t help but let out an affectionate chuckle. Link was a favorite staple among the Stable workers. He was there often, and always a polite customer. He clearly adored his horses, and made sure to rotate the few he had regularly. If he was boarding Haven, Embry knew he would be taking Spot out next. Sometimes he’d even cook for everyone staying at the Stable, and his food was truly unmatched. Those nights Embry would let him stay for free.

Just as Toffa predicted, the skies opened up and rain poured down. It pitter-pattered softly on the canvas roof of the Stable as everyone hurried inside out of the rain. Embry slipped out from behind the counter for a moment, grabbing a spare blanket. He walked up to the bed quietly, then draped the blanket over the small Hylian boy, chuckling as he watched Link grab onto it, letting out a pleased noise in his sleep as he snuggled down into the blanket. Link’s lips curled into a soft smile in his sleep, and Embry could only pray to Malanya to give him pleasant dreams.

#tae writes #legend of zelda #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom #totk #totk link #totk Stables #totk fanfic #totk fanfiction #reblog to validate me

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clara-aeri · 5 months

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Do you have any preference in POV? Link, Zelda, or something else? Ps. Your latest work is AMAZING

Ooooooof, this is a hard one. I enjoy Link a lot because I get to write some very flat humorous prose to match his soldier personality. But I have grown a soft spot for Zelda because she lets me write more flowery and also has a lot of baggage and grim memories that are perfect for angst 😂

But I wound up so used to Link’s POV after Roots that it definitely comes out more naturally lol and I prefer to default to it when I’m not feeling up to tons of editing, at least the specific way I interpret his character. I’ve seen some people interpret him to be much more sensitive and thoughtful instead of “bokoblin kill 👹” which is just as valid.

(If anything I’d love to emulate the way @jenseits-der-sterne portrays him in her work “Before and After” on Ao3 which is wonderful and everyone should read it. I would be using that POV nonstop if knew how to write in second person lol!)

But thank you!! I’m so happy to hear that 😭 I hope that answers your question!

#claraaeri #botw fanfiction #anon asks #ao3fic #the legend of zelda #botw #totk fanfiction #totk

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tashacee · 10 months

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Neither Link nor Zelda escaped their journeys unscathed. But whether the scars are physical or otherwise, together they can make it through.

based on a prompt by @loveteacup

I got a bit off-track but dragon hoarding zelda and attached at the hip zelink ahoy!

Warning, graphic descriptions of gross 70s jello recipes inside.

#legend of zelda #zelda fanfiction #botw #totk #totk fanfiction #totk fic #totk fanfic #botw fic #botw fanfic #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #writblr #my writing #linked universe

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fioreofthemarch · 1 year

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Finding Her - Chapter 2

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until does. [ Previous | Next | First | AO3 ]

Log date 18:00. 5th month 17th day 104AC Location: Unknown, please upload SkyView data. Weather: Mild. Clouds clearing.

Can’t stop flexing my sword hand. Another thing gone — this time the Master Sword. There was a shining light, just outside the Temple of Time, and it seemed like the Sword wanted to go. So I let it go.

Still feel stripped bare without it, without them both. Am I a guy with a magic hand attached or a magic hand with a guy hanging off of it?

On solid ground now at least. Cooking up herbed chicken and mushroom stew in these village ruins I found. With some wheat, could have made pie, then maybe some honey apples, and roasted tree nuts—

Getting distracted. Just glad to be home. Zelda’s voice called out from that research camp that Dr. Purah set up. Lookout something? Heading over at first light tomorrow. Sleep, search, eat, repeat.

A photograph from below of Great Sky Island, hovering high in the distance.

Caption: Please don’t fall

---

Log date: 05:00. 5th month, 20th day 104AC Location: Lookout Landing Emergency Shelter Weather: Cool. Sunny weather forecast.

Where to start. Didn’t even have time to do one of these yesterday or the day before. Got back to this bed and passed out. It’s still early, someone is snoring in the bed just over from this one. (Atmus? He mumbles about his son in his sleep). Got time to write before sun up.

In summary: No one here has seen Zelda. Except, some of us did. At the Castle. Hylia help us — the Castle. It’s not looking good. Zelda’s gonna be so mad, she spent ages planning the refurbishments for it.

But she was there. Just for a second. Near the First Gatehouse. Went there with Hoz — good guy, loud voice. Zelda was standing on those floating rocks up above and then she just… I don’t know. The way the stars go out just before sun up, twinkling and shining and then, nothing.

Didn’t she see us? (see me…?)

Anyway. We came back here, rested, rice balls for dinner, and the next morning they … launched me into the sky. Can’t sum it up any other way. (Dr. Purah scares me a little) But, got my paraglider back. Now a new generation of Sheikah SkyView Towers peppers the landscape, waiting to send a skydiving-certified Hylian high into the air.

Hero of Hyrule? Legendary Swordsman? Appointed Knight? Yeah, along with every other job you might need.

Shouldn’t complain. It was fun. Josha asked me to check out one of the nearby Chasms with Robbie today. More fun? We’ll see.

Photograph taken of Central Hyrule from high in the air, a floating Zonai archipelago visible in the foreground.

Caption: Contact Link of Hateno Village for all your land survey needs

---

Log date: 14:00. 5th month, 20th day 104AC Location: !! ERROR ERROR ERROR !! Weather: !! ERROR ERROR ERROR !!

A blurry, hastily taken photograph of a large statue located in the Depths underneath Hyrule, a gloom aerocuda advancing on the camera

Caption (applied via voice commands): no don’t open the camera i just need to get out of no no stop why does this thing even have voice commands open the map just open the damn

---

Log date: 20:00 5th month, 21st day 104AC Location: Lookout Landing, Research Lab Weather: Mild. Rain clearing

Zelda — did you know about the Depths? Because if not, you’re never gonna believe what’s down there. The caverns below the castle were just the start.

They’re calling all this the Upheaval. Seems about right. Everything has changed; a blizzard in Hebra, gloom over Eldin, mud in Lanayru and who knows what in Gerudo. Monsters and Yiga and Chasms all over the place.

There are so many people here at Lookout Landing ready to fight and do their part. Now it’s my turn.

Do you remember what you said, after we defeated Ganon? Went something like — the old Hyrule may be lost, but it’s the people of today that will rebuild, and I look forward to meeting them all.

Well they’re here, Zelda. So where are you? We need you. I…

Anyway. Starting with Hebra. See you there?

A photograph of a soft brown mare, saddled and ready for travel. Link is sitting in the saddle, smiling at the camera. The immediate next photo is a self-portrait taken by a Hylian Guard, Scorpis, the camera too-close to his face as he tries to snap a picture of himself and Link, who is waving to the camera from his horse.

Caption: Setting off. Hope to be back soon.

#totk #zelink #tears of the kingdom #totk spoilers #loz #tloz fanfiction #totk fanfiction

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citrusella-flugpucker · 5 months

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Published the first half or so last night of what was originally going to be a oneshot!

We Don't Go It Alone

"I think Purah just gets too in her own head sometimes, Zel," Link says in an attempt to be reassuring. Neither of them wants to acknowledge that she always used to be excited to share new developments and bits of science expertise with the Princess; neither wants to acknowledge that the way she's treating Zelda is new. Neither wants to acknowledge what that would mean. Or: Zelda needs a replacement for the Purah Pad once she arrives home, but this is not as straightforward as one would think.

(I say "originally going to be a oneshot" because I only made it not a oneshot because I was getting self-conscious about its length and that was causing me to try to rush some later stuff to keep it shorter. Splitting it means I'm less likely to rush it because I'm not as self-conscious about the length of two different chapters. XP)

#tears of the kingdom #totk #totk fanfic #legend of zelda #totk fanfiction #loz fanfiction #loz

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flickerintwilights · 9 months

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glow in the dark

rated T / pre-canon / 2k words

Mineru & Rauru, hurt/comfort, hurt, blood and injury (not too graphic)

(excerpt) Mineru turns east along the other side of the wall. She looks around through the dim light, radiated in soft waves from the brightseeds high above her, extending her spirit slightly to get a sense of what lies beyond her body’s eyes. More trees, more stones, more fireflies, more flowers. The only semblances of a spirit she comes into contact with are drifting poes. No Rauru.

From up ahead, a faint roar wavers the air.

read on ao3 or below the cut

Mineru wasn’t surprised when he wandered off, despite her best attempts to assure him that he wouldn’t have to wait long for her to finish up and there were plenty of points of interest in the general locale of the Factory, anyway, for him to look around at. She knows Rauru doesn’t particularly like the Bargainers — but there is the Wellspring of Courage, and there are plenty of constructs for him to talk to.

But her idea of interesting has always been slightly offset compared to his. After all, he’s never really liked the dark.

She assumes, based on her past knowledge and experiences, that Rauru decided going off to explore would be better than hanging around the factory with only its aimless poes and busy constructs (and her) for company. Like when he first went down to the surface. That time he got lost in the Faron jungle by accident, and a short while after he went into the northwestern mountains with nothing but his winter fluff and some ruby-crafted bracelets.

The margin of difference here, compared to those scenarios, is that it is the Depths and not the surface — one less undeniably alive than the other. Not to mention darker. Therefore, to Rauru: less interesting.

According to that line of thought, the more concerning detail was that he wasn’t back by the time she had completed her objective with the constructs. (It was only the examination of a new prototype crafter construct; they’d needed her to have a more accurate look at the functioning of the new spirit core. He could have waited, there was nothing more she would have had to do.)

So now Mineru has to find her little brother. This has happened before.

Currently, she’s south of the Left-Arm Depot. A steward had designated a few low-level soldier constructs to go look elsewhere. There’s no trail, except for one newly sprouted brightbloom she passed by near the pools, but he can’t have gone too far.

“Rauru!” she calls out, to the same quiet. Her voice sinks into the stone wall to her left and hangs in the still air. The specks of spirit continue their endless drifting, undisturbed, without wind.

Mineru turns east along the other side of the wall. She looks around through the dim light, radiated in soft waves from the brightseeds high above her, extending her spirit slightly to get a sense of what lies beyond her body’s eyes. More trees, more stones, more fireflies, more flowers. The only semblances of a spirit she comes into contact with are drifting poes. No Rauru.

From up ahead, a faint roar wavers the air.

Mineru turns toward it, slowing. Frox are a rare presence in the Depths, mostly driven away from the mines by Zonai warriors long ago. This one must have survived somehow, perhaps a fled child grown to adulthood in the furthest reaches of the Depths, beyond the willingness of her people to seek out.

One this close to the Spirit Temple, and the Construct Factory by extension, is… worrying. The roar itself as well — Frox roar for intimidation, when they see prey —

A cry. Short, cut off, muffled like it’s coming from underwater. Rauru, and the realization hits her like a speartip through the chest so she’s running— sprinting over the stone and it feels slow and wrong and not enough. The Frox roars again. Even from a distance, Mineru feels the stone shiver under her all too solid feet.

Rauru. Rauru is in pain, crying out, and he’s her little brother. She can’t— he can’t—

He shouts, half-strangled and breaking, and light shatters between curled ferns. It’s a futile burst, a desperate attempt at a distraction, and in a second it’s obscured by a massive silhouette that gleams dark on one side — those must be the Zonaite deposits, and on the other side its rearing teeth catch a fragmented splinter of light —

“Rauru!” she screams. The sound rips through the blue-flecked air, almost as if it could reach him, until the stone subsumes it into its depths.

He doesn’t hear her.

Mineru stumbles over a descent in the rock, a cut into the landscape, and she doesn’t see its jaw slam down. She hears a scream.

She pushes herself up, the ordinarily gentle quiet of the Depths replaced by her heartbeat suffocating her ears, forward out of the shallow rift onto the field. The Frox’s obsidian skin is visible now, where it pulls in the light. The curled ferns loom tall over her head.

Rauru is lying crumpled at one of their bases, shirt torn and bloody, fur matted. His right arm is half-draped over the stem at the wrong angle. It doesn’t compute; her mind rejects, flinching, stuttering to a stop. That isn’t how it should be.

The Frox lumbers toward him, predator to prey. It thinks he’s, is he—

Mineru wrenches her gaze away from the arm that grates wrong wrong wrong into her head and sees it, instead. Looming over him, its fangs lifting. Its malignant green eye, starkly vivid against the darkness, stares down at his broken form. His eyes flicker open weakly. It’s the same flash of blue that she’s always known, but its light is faded, dull as the secret stone on his hanging wrist.

It—

She hurls herself forward with a snarl that tears itself out raw and ugly and wordless from her chest, choking, bleeding.

The Frox jumps around to face her with something like surprise in its eye — surprise that something would dare to attack, would dare to come for a broken body with a single thread left for life — not before she remembers the zonaite deposits on its back and reaches out with her spirit and feels the veins of stone and something else that run alongside its blood to its heart.

Her secret stone flares purple from her neck. Her third eye snaps open, and

then she is only (all) spirit, her vision tinged in shades of purple and blue-green. The rest of her senses are sharper, the mess of sounds and sensations cluttering them faded into white noise. Her body is beginning to fold without her, the essence that links it all together, but she’s already moving effortlessly compared to it — borne on the particles of spirit that drift through the Depths and flow in intangible currents beyond normal sight. Faster than a heartbeat.

Zonaite’s unique properties are the result of its being laced and veined with spirit particles, absorbed from years upon years of heavy saturation from the Depths environment. She is intimately familiar with this fact. Working with her people’s technology, built almost entirely from zonaite, has given her countless opportunities to make use of her ability with spirit.

Mineru has never used it for anything other than research before.

But it’s so easy to reach through the wells and flows of spirit in the Frox’s zonaite deposits. And it’s so quick, something of instinct more than rational thought — it hurt Rauru. Her little brother is wounded and bleeding and barely conscious on the ground, and she cannot let him die. He doesn’t want to die. He’s living.

She traces the veins of zonaite through its flesh and out into the others, finds the weak points in each structure and pushes and strains outward at them with her spirit. Simultaneously, the spirit energy in the stone responds to her presence. So she gathers it, tightens it, until it has nothing else to do than—

—burst.

Finally, the zonaite shatters.

The shards of stone exploding outward in every direction don’t touch her, but the sudden release of spirit particles from the stone does, though it only appears as a brief scattering of blue-green dust. The shards of stone don’t touch her, but they do tear into the Frox’s flesh from the inner veins, shrapnel ripping through organs and blood vessels.

It roars, a high keen of pain slipping through the cracks in the sound. A part of her is bothered by the sound; death is not the same as suffering, after all, and Rauru has always been the monster hunter between them. But the rest, the greater part, takes the thought of Rauru and holds it close. This is the only way.

At the same time the Frox’s body is convulsing, ripping itself apart without the seal of zonaite deposits over its back, hers hits the ground. It’s good timing; a larger fragment of zonaite lances through the air where her head had been. Lucky, really. She hadn’t taken the time to consider that outcome when she went to move.

The Frox’s thick-padded limbs crash to the ground. Dark blood runs in thin rivulets down its skin. Its spirit, more a thing of smoke and an inky silhouette than the souls that fill the Depths, bleeds out from the stilled body and wafts away into nothing.

Mineru turns away from it. Her body is lying on the ground in a slightly awkward position, but she’s used to reconfiguring herself to its weight — the bare presence of air on her fur and dust in her eyes.

She pulls herself up without grace, limb by limb. The Frox’s remaining bulk obscures Rauru from view until she rushes past it, in spite of the fact that she’s stumbling and hasn’t regained her bearings nearly enough. Her breathing is loud in her ears again.

Rauru is untouched, at least by her. She’d made sure of it, forcibly redirecting the shrapnel if it went anywhere near him.

It could have been a relief still to see proof. But he’s still on the ground, fur torn and darkened from so many wounds that maybe it wouldn’t even have made a difference. She can still see, when her secret stone glimmers and her vision is touched by faint washes of color, blue flecks drifting from his body into the dark.

No. No no no. He can’t do that.

The darkness of the environment remains when her secret stone goes still and Mineru drops down to kneel beside him. Take his hand in hers and feel for his pulse, although she’s never been good at getting it from that spot, because his neck is too badly bruised — then she lets go, because that’s his broken arm and she hates the way he twitches at the slightest shift to his hand.

She checks the other wrist, ghosting her fingers over it, so she can’t hurt him.

Thump, thump. He’s alive. Barely.

Mineru forces herself to look over his injuries. This close up she can see every contusion on his darker fur, and there are so many — the one around his left eye —

His eyes are a sliver open.

She stops short. They don’t seem to register anything at first, only the eyelashes flutter rapidly, but then his right eye blinks a little wider and she sees blue.

“Mi…Min…” Rauru manages at first. “‘ro‘s—”

“It’s dead,” she says, swallowing back a lump in her throat. “You’re going to be okay.”

He tries to move his arm, and a thin whimper slips out through his teeth. Mineru lays her hand over it lightly, then with more solidity as he releases a quivering breath at the touch.

“S…sorry.”

As gently as she can, in place of a response she doesn’t know if she can give, she presses her forehead to his. The lashes of their third eyes brush; Rauru’s stiff and halting, but he leans into it nonetheless.

Mineru lifts her head back. Rauru’s two eyes are closed; his chest rises and falls in slight trembles. She activates the small zonaite device on her wrist, and a beam of green light appears, running north towards the factory and the medical constructs waiting for a destination.

For a brief moment, it’s all too much like spirit green, zonaite green. (Green like the Frox’s eye.) But those are what so much of her life has always been colored by; the bile passes quickly. The light will be what gets them home.

In the meantime, she settles next to Rauru, and breathes alongside him in the quiet dark, and grasps his hand in hers.

#first and hopefully not last actual contribution to the mineru stans i know you’re out there #very glad i was finally able to complete a fic for her! she deserves it #totk mineru #king rauru #mineru #totk rauru #tears of the kingdom #totk #having a consistent format for fic posts? meh #i’m very proud of the banner but don’t expect one for every fic i post here lol #totk fanfic #totk fanfiction #my fic

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unityrain24 · 6 months

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GAH i keep forgetting i never posted my totk fanfiction!!!

#because it's not finished :|#i completed the first oneshot months ago but i can't post it until i get the second one done #and i wrote like the majority of the second one but keep putting off finishing it because the last part is gonna be hard to do #totk #loz totk #bot #loz botw #totk fanfiction #sidlink #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic author #fanfic writer #unityrain.txt

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the-depths-au · 2 months

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Zelda never returns after the battle with the Demon King. Link is determined to bring her back, no matter what it takes or where it takes him. So when the Light Dragon starts to dive into the Depths, which have remained dark and uncharted since the Gloom faded away, he prepares to descend as well.

the depths

a post-totk bad ending au.

Rated M: CW for mature themes, violence and blood.

Thank you to the wonderful @zeldaelmo for enduring my sad, twisted brain rot and for beta reading another monster of a story for me. And thank you to the amazing @fioreofthemarch for being a trusted and valued set of eyes on the story's outline.

chapter 1

I’ll tell you where the real road lies: Between your ears, behind your eyes. That is the path to Paradise, And, likewise, the road to ruin. -Hadestown

For a while now, he’s seen the way it was supposed to go every time he closes his eyes.

The Demon Dragon is gone. Smoke curls around the tail end of the explosion, marking the spot where a war thousands of centuries in the making was stopped. Link braces himself against a horn of the Light Dragon, Master Sword in hand, silver still burning white as the wind wipes tears of relief from his eyes.

We did it, he thinks and tilts his head back releasing something between a sigh and a sob. I think we actually did it.

When he first starts to float, he thinks he’s dying. He loses his footing and kind of drifts in the air with the taste of metal in his mouth and a sinking feeling that starts at the base of his skull. He’s bloodied and bruised and broken in several places from the battle against the Demon King so it makes sense. Only everything is bright…too bright. And the Light Dragon is still with him, although now suspended in some peaceful stasis a hundred meters below. From what he remembers about dying, you do so in darkness and completely alone.

[read the rest of chapter 1 on Ao3]

#main story #the depths au #loz #totk #totk fanfiction #loz fanfiction

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bahbahhh · 10 months

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begin again

a lot of change happens in between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. let’s fill in the gaps.

zelda pov | zelink | totk spoilers | rated T zelinkweek2023 | @zelinkcommunity [first] [ ao3 ]

Again, big shout out to my beta reader @zeldaelmo who is an amazing writer for the LoZ fandom and is posting for zelink week as well. I had the pleasure of returning the favor for this totk zelink oneshot and absolutely recommend it.

chapter 2

for the prompt “forbidden”

Link’s just publicly recommended they destroy the most valuable resources available for the restoration of Hyrule and Zelda has no idea how to save him.

Everyone just stares, and with the company they find themselves in, it may as well be the very eyes of Hyrule itself that are on him. Zelda can’t find her breath. She’s back in Blatchery Plain, drenched in rain and despair, surrounded by a swarm of corrupted guardians. Link faced a sea of eyes then, too. He stands with his back to her, just like he does now, and she watches his silhouette light up with constellations of crimson.

He’s about to be blown to pieces right in front of her.

She starts to raise her hand to protect him like she did that day, only to remember she hasn’t felt the hum of power, nevermind summoned the glow of golden light to her fingertips, since they destroyed the Calamity six months ago. She’s a star burnt out with nothing to show of her once formidable brilliance, but an ugly scar on her hand.

“All of it?” Impa asks, calmly.

Link nods.

“Even the Divine Beasts?”

“Especially those,” he asserts.

He has yet to make eye contact with Zelda again since the smile; that red herring of a smile that had her daydreaming while he nocked a kill shot. She gives up on trying to summon his gaze with her mind and glances desperately at Impa. The keeper of their histories, a guardian of lost tapestries and lessons of the past, a voice of reason in the hundred year storm—

But Zelda sees none of the women she thought she knew in the way Impa considers him. She’s got her head tilted pensively, like she might actually be contemplating what Link has said, which is impossible because he is suggesting they dismantle all the ancient relics of her people.

Impa rotates her gaze out to the crowd and extends her hands to welcome the discussion, looking like a statue of the Goddess herself. Zelda’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach with a splash. She wants to scream, at both of them, but the continued and calm silence of the crowd is starting to feel less like they are preparing to strike and more like Link’s found the hidden door they’ve all been searching for. An emotional outburst could compromise the cogendy of any argument she might make.

Goddess, she can still hear her father’s voice in her head after all these years.

“Where would it all go?” Reede finally asks.

Link crosses his arms over his chest, thinks about it for a half a second –1 like they are talking about something as simple as mending a pasture fence – and offers, “Sheikah Slate has a limitless inventory. Load it all into the Slate and then get rid of it.”

“How do you suppose we do that?”

“Smash it with a hammer?”

Purah gasps. “That would be such a waste, Linky! We still haven’t unlocked a quarter of the Slate’s potential.”

“You’ll build something better.”

“Like what?” Robbie says, visibly shaken and pale.

‘That’s your thing, isn’t it?’ Link signs.

“If I may, wouldn’t destroying the Sheikah Technology prolong restoration efforts?” says Hudson of Tarrey Town.

Link nods.

“Did you yourself not benefit from the technology during your travels?” Traysi asks in a strangely formal tone. She lifts a pen and paper out of her lap without looking away from Link.

He shrugs and Traysi’s expression sinks. She must be remembering he’s Hyrule’s worst interview subject. She rolls her shoulders back and tries again.

“Wasn’t it Sheikah Technology that saved you from death?”

An unbearable amount of guilt seethes out from wounds deep inside Zelda. Questions she’ll never feel brave enough to voice echo in the silence that follows Traysi’s: Did I make the right call? Is it what you wanted me to do? She can’t see his face, but she imagines it is unsettlingly neutral, as it always is in crucial moments of outrageous tension.

Do you resent me for what I did? She’s screaming inside her head, glaring at the back of his skull. Unbearable heat swirls in her chest like dragon’s breath. You must! Just say you do!

“It trapped his soul inside his body,” King Dorephan says.

Link’s body flinches. It’s microscopic. Zelda only catches it because she’s so focused on him, but she sees it, and pain blooms in the very center of her chest.

“Mipha’s soul was trapped inside Vah Ruta after all these years, too.” King Dorephan continues. He is a monolith of a presence and yet, when he speaks about his late daughter, somehow, he’s transformed into something smaller and broken. This is the price of a long life. The Rito who flew with Revali, the Gerudo who marched with Urbosa, the Gorons who laughed with Daruk; they have all since passed. If there is grief, it is distant and therefore, instinctively more bearable. Only the Sheikah can begin to relate and still, with the Champions, the Zora stand alone. Zelda’s here. The Sheikah’s Princess returned.

The title suddenly feels too heavy again.

“Father, her body was gone,” Prince Sidon says gently. He has tears in his eyes. Unapologetically emotional as ever, and instead of responding with rage or shame, the great King of the Zora places a hand on Sidon’s shoulders. His eyes, set beneath the mighty crown of his people, swim with tears as well.

Zelda wilts with envy.

“The Zora second Link’s motion to destroy all Sheikah Technology.”

“We-we would be forfeiting artifacts that have withstood the test of time and have proven immensely useful,” Robbie proclaims. For the first time, he looks his age. Shaking where he stands, shoulders crested with fatigue, his hands braced on the back of Purah’s chair.

“When they function properly,” Teba’s chimes in. He has the kind of call that booms across the Tabantha sky. A few Ritos whistle in consensus. “Vah Medoh terrorized our people for decades. Too many Rito warriors took their final dive after it claimed the sky for the Calamity.”

“It didn’t get you though, Dad,” Tulin says.

Teba grins, “Right. Thanks to Link. Kaneli?”

“The Rito soar with Link.” Kaneli flashes his massive wingspan. “Destroy it all.”

“Forget a hammer, the Gorons will take care of anything that needs smashing,” Bludo grunts.

Yubuno clenches his fists and blows out a sphere of molten light around him. “Yeah, goro! We got this!”

“We passed many guardians and shrines during the march here from the desert. They are a map of tremendous loss across Hyrule. The Gerudo cannot remember a time when this technology was useful. We only know its devastation. It is time to let the past go. Hyrule is ready to move forward.” Riju sets her hands on her hips and nods in Link’s direction.

“Our research…we would be throwing it all away!” Purah cries, and like Robbie, she’s looking her age. Six and completely devastated the grown ups are planning to take away her favorite toy.

“Correct me if I'm wrong, Purah, Robbie, but weren’t the shrines and the Slate originally created specifically for Link? For the chosen hero?” Impa asks.

“Yes, that is correct,” Robbie says.

“And we all believe Calamity Ganon is finally vanquished, yes?” Impa turns to look at the crowd.

“Mipha’s Grace.” One of the elder Zora crosses his fins at the same time Buliara and the other Gerudo soldiers raise their spears. Teba whistles and the Hylian’s offer the sign of the Goddess with their hands. It is a resounding and unanimous ‘good riddance’.

“So, with this in mind, have the shrines and the Slate not served their purpose?”

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s true,” Robbie says. Purah starts pouting. Zelda can see the defeat starting to take root around the Sheikah researchers. Feels it starting to wrap around her own ankles. She feathers a hand up to touch the spot where her voice is trapped in her throat. All those years resisting her father’s guidance and now, it’s the one thing keeping her from damning herself. To this group, so revitalized by new hope, united and rising from a hundred years of ruin, her proposal of clinging to their ashes might feel like poison.

Like malice.

“I know it feels like a waste, dear sister. Robbie. But I ask that you both consider the possibility this is not another squandering of our efforts.”

“It’s the fulfillment of them.” Paya’s voice is exceptionally steady. She folds her hands over Robbie’s and helps him peel back his fingers from the back of Purah’s chair.

“The Zora will continue to look to the Sheikah for guidance,” Sidon says.

“It would be foolish to ignore the knowledge of the Sheikah,” Kaneli agrees.

“Like Link said, this is our opportunity to build something new for Hyrule.” Yubono pumps his fist in the air.

“Something better,” Riju adds.

“We will all have a hand in rebuilding Hyrule. From the ground up this time.” Hudson rubs his hands together like he’s ready to get started.

Tulin lets out a cheer. His voice is youthful and hopeful and infectious. The perfect song for the future of Hyrule. A few out Rito echo him and then the Gerudo join in. Then the Gorons, and the Zora and the Hylians. Impa holds her arms out to Purah and both she and Robbie lunge forward to embrace her. Link claps a few times and then finally looks over his shoulder at Zelda. His eyes are brighter than luminous stones.

He has no idea what he’s done.

The smile was just a smile. A pathetically desperate misinterpretation on her part. He smiles because he’s polite, not because she’s something special or they are together in any of this.

Link died on the field that day. And with him–

The pages slip from her hands. Her proposal scatters across the grass at her feet.

She scurries to gather them up and Link immediately takes a knee to help her. Zelda snatches the pages back into her chest and recoils like the wounded animal she is. He blinks at her, a wordless question forming on his lips. The hand outstretched for the pages turns over slowly to offer his palm to her. He’s trying to help her up without any idea he’s the one who put her here.

“What says the Princess of new Hyrule?” It's Traysi’s voice. Probably ready with her pen, eager to draft a report and spit the plan for the restoration out to the Rumor Mill by sunset.

Her hands are shaking. Dozens of eyes on her, fire in her throat, nothing but a scar on her hand. She glances down at the mark, a nameless cluster of triangles. In stasis, she decided they represented the holy Springs. For a time, she held all three in her hand, but Courage and Power only flowed through her. For some reason, predetermined by fate that has proven nothing but cruel, she is the vessel for Wisdom.

And Wisdom tells Zelda her thoughts have no value. They never have. She looks around at the faces of her people. Unknowingly, they’ve not only stolen her newfound sense of purpose–they are making it forbidden.

And now they are asking for her blessing.

She swallows what feels like acid and looks back at Link. At some point in her reeling, she’s risen to her feet without realizing it. He remains on his knees, looking up at her with an innocent tilt of confusion, Master Sword strapped to his back. Her body blocks out the sun and casts a looming shadow over his face. The pasture falls away from her. She’s surrounded by cascades of water and trees twisted with age and swarms of fireflies. Beneath her feet, an altar with a space for a traveler’s gift lifts her even higher above him. Zelda tries to keep the horror from washing over her face, but the restraint necessary only makes her feel like she might turn into stone.

Is it a crown they want her to wear or a halo?

Zelda gathers herself and says the only thing she can summon from the depths of her panic, “May the Light of the Goddess shine upon you.”

—-

The Summit lasts four days. Link has all of the shrines, towers, and the majority of the remaining guardians already mapped out on the Slate, so it is only a matter of divvying up the work. Each group is responsible for their assigned regions and are free to do what they please with the guardian parts once the cores are removed. The Gerudo and the Zora verbalize their intent to destroy all the Sheikah tech in their territories, but the Gorons, Rito, and the Hylians (who stand the most to gain from recycled materials) plan to repurpose.

The plan is to harvest the ancient cores and store them in the Slate. Link will travel across Hyrule to load the cores into Slate, along with any unwanted materials it has the capacity to absorb. Once the guardians are taken care of and they figure out how to dismantle the shrines, they’ll destroy the Sheikah Slate, smother the ancient furnaces, and bury the Divine Beasts. They will reconvene as needed to collectively approve next steps. The Sheikah are tasked with what to do with the towers because everyone agrees there is value in preserving a modern mapping system as long as a new network is created.

It is Link’s task to figure out how to handle the shrines since he is the only one who can enter them. He disappears into the shrine near his house the first night only to emerge several hours later, circling it like a wolf. He eventually settles down and appears to just glare at the terminal until the sun rises. He does the same thing the following night and the night after that. Zelda knows this because she’s been watching him from Purah’s second floor window.

Seeing him struggle with it doesn’t make her feel better (okay, it helps a little), and it’s hard to stay upset when she sees how well-received his recommendation is; how necessary it feels for the rest of Hyrule to start planning their future. It’s just when this anger completely deflates, she knows she’ll be left to deal with what actually lies beneath it, as is often the case with her anger, and it’s a sorrow she’s afraid she will drown in.

“He’s still at it?” Zelda jumps back from the window at the sound of Purah’s voice.

“What? Link? I wasn’t–” Zelda sputters.

Purah waves her tiny hands and tip toes across the floor to a desk. “Don’t worry about it. He’s a fascinating subject.”

“Why are you up so late?” Zelda wraps her arms around herself. Purah gets a guilty look, but as Zelda draws closer, she hears a soft, excited hum coming from the researcher. Like Zelda’s presence alone lit some internal fuse and Purah is on the verge of bursting into sparkles.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone else?”

Zelda knows this is a dangerous game, Purah used to say the same thing a hundred years ago, right before she launched into an explanation as to why the western castle wall was damaged, again.

“Did you break something?”

“No!” Purah sets her fists in her hips, insulted.

“Are you going to?”

“Princess!”

Zelda lifts her eyebrows.

“Come on, do you want to see what I’m working on or not.” Purah stomps her feet very softly in an exaggerated manner, obviously trying to keep the noise level down.

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

“Pinky promise! I mean it, I need you to have my back like old times. You were the only reason my research didn’t get shut down back then.”

“It was threatened.” Zelda smiles at the avalanche of memory that befalls her. It didn’t feel funny at the time, – lying to her father, tempting his wrath – but it felt good to protect something she was equally as passionate about.

“I know.” Purah rolls her eyes.

“Multiple times.”

“I know! So, so, so?” Purah holds up her pinky and wiggles it at Zelda. Zelda rolls her shoulders back and sighs.

“Okay, pinky promise,” she says and loops her finger with Purah’s.

Purah flings open a wide drawer filled with blueprints. She throws the top half of pages to the floor with enthusiasm, mumbling about how Symin can pick them up later, and rummages around the rest with a hushed frenzy. Zelda spots a copy of the new Hyrule map from the Summit with the restoration territories outlined. Purah’s already marked all the Sheikah tower locations and made notes on possible spots for relocation.

Even she’s found a purpose in the path forward.

Purah fans out the papers hidden at the very bottom of the drawer out on her desk. “I’ve expedited my experiments with the Anti-Aging Rune. I just want to reverse this,” she gestures to herself extravagantly, “and then they can do whatever they want with the Sheikah Slate.”

“You’re going to return to your original state? You’ll be over a hundred and–”

“No. I just want to look old enough so people stop telling me I need to take a nap whenever I raise my voice.” A beat. “And I want to be able to reach the jar Symin hides the honey candies in.”

Zelda scans over Purah’s design, which calls for the Guidance Stone, the Sheikah Slate, and something called ‘cellular maturity milestone marker’ coding.

“Does Impa know you're working on this?”

“It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than seek permission, Princess. And besides, I’ve already got ideas for a better Slate with an even better name, so that should buy me a royal pardon if I need it, right?”

As if Zelda holds any authority in any of this.

Zelda backs away from Purah’s desk and the ugly feelings of jealousy starting to bubble up inside her. She ends up back at the window and turns her face to the cool night air. Link’s pacing in front of the Shrine again.

“Do you think he’ll figure it out?” Zelda asks.

“The shrines? Yes.”

“He’s always been good at puzzles.”

“Yeah, but so have you. Aren’t you going to help him?” Purah quips innocently. With the way her hushed voice carries in the night, it’s like she's speaking from Zelda’s shoulder.

—-

Zelda hasn’t spoken to him since the first day. If he’s noticed, he hasn’t made it known. He’ll occasionally catch her eye and smile, but she’s learned not to read into that anymore and hardens herself to any tenderness that attempts to sidetrack her thoughts.

Purah asks her to retrieve the Sheikah Slate from Link when he’s done with it so she can run a trial on the Anti-Aging Rune before Symin wakes up. If nothing else, it gives Zelda an excuse to wander down to the shrine while she’s still deciding if she wants to help him.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the terminal gate with his chin in his hand when she approaches. The Master Sword lays unsheathed beside him. Weathered and dull, unable to glimmer even in the moonlight. Like her, it hasn’t glowed since the final battle.

It takes a second for him to return from wherever his thoughts are, but she can tell he’s been aware of her somehow since she started climbing the hill up to the shrine. He paws his chin with his fingers and then flops backward in the grass at her feet with a frustrated sigh.

“Can’t figure it out?” She asks.

He puffs some hair into his bangs and signs, ‘Not yet.’

She sits down beside him. “Do you think there is a core inside?”

He crinkles his nose and shakes his head.

“You told me you think the Shrines, like Divine Beasts, run on some kind of spirit-based energy, right?”

He nods.

“But when you clear a Shrine, the spirit of the Sheikah Monk inside disappears?”

“Right.” Link sits up on his elbows and rolls his head around his shoulders.

“But the Shrine stays semi-active, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t that imply a power source remains?”

Link shrugs. Zelda follows the curls of cerulean along the walls of the shrine up to the peak where the Sheikah Eye glows. The symbol always brought her comfort. The presence of a friend, the company of like minds—a buffer of protection against the unbearable amount of pressure building on her shoulders since the day she turned seven. But the symbol feels different now, as most symbols tend to do with time. It doesn’t bring her much comfort. It’s just another thing from her past she has to let go of; the sign of something else evolving without her.

It stares unblinking and focused on some distance point she can’t see.

He taps her on the shoulder to pull her attention back to him. A tiny pulse of electricity moves from his fingers down into her belly when he seems to appraise her face before he signs.

‘Any ideas?’ He looks tired. Overdue for a visit. She can feel sleep reaching for her as well. Her attention drifts back to the Sheikah Eye and she imagines it closing shut. Resting like they both should. Like she could if she had a bed.

A home.

“You said you think the Shrines work like the Divine Beasts? So in theory, those stopped working because our friends—” Grief, unexpected and sudden, crackles in her voice. She clears her throat. Pivots. “You can’t use their gifts any longer, right?”

Link flexes his fingers slowly. Like he’s just missing something that keeps passing through his fingers. “I let them go.”

She thinks about what King Dorephan said about the Shrine of Resurrection and Link’s soul. How he had been unable to die because the Shrine kept his soul tethered to his body while the waters healed it. She thinks about eyes closing and Tulin’s cheering and the sadness that comes with at last fulfilling one’s purpose.

“Can I see the Slate?” She asks. Link unclips it from his belt and slides it over to her in the grass. Purah would slap him if she saw just how casually he handles it. Zelda wants to tell him to be careful, that Purah might be tall enough to reach his face soon, but she has a pinky promise to keep, and the Slate will be gone before too long, anyway. She weighs it with her hands a few times and then stands to approach the terminal.

“How do you activate the Shrine if there isn’t a slot?” She feels Link come up beside her. He leans over and mimics holding the Slate over the Sheikah symbol with an empty hand. The hair on her arm stands on end in his closeness. Will this feeling ever go away? Or will it always feel like she is about to be struck by lightning whenever he’s near?

“Have you ever tried to do it again once the Shrine is activated?”

“No.”

Zelda lifts the Slate up to the terminal. Nothing happens. The shrine glows calm and blue, the door stays shut, the Slate screen blank–as she suspects it would. She bites her cheek and hands the Slate back to him. “You try.”

The second he holds the Slate over the terminal, the light at the center of the Sheikah Eye blinks once, calling the Slate to life. He turns over and inspects the screen. The name of the Shrine, which Zelda assumes is the name of the Sheikah Monk whose soul powered it for thousands of years, has a check mark next to it. She assumes it is because Link completed the trial inside.

Below the name is a single, pulsing command:

> Rest? <

They snap their heads up to look at each other at the same time.

Link’s shoulders collapse. An irritated puff air escapes his nose.

Zelda leans over him, presses her thumb against the word, and watches it dissolve into the darkness of the screen. The steel shifts under her feet, and they immediately scramble off the back of the entryway because the Shrine has started disintegrating around them. Link wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her flush against him so his body breaks their fall when they hit the grass.

They watch the last bit of light in the Sheikah symbol disappear into nothing. In a matter of ten seconds, the only evidence the Shrine was ever there is a round footprint of dirt. There are no materials to sort through, no cavern to fill in. She shifts and sits between his bent legs, frantically turning on the Sheikah Slate where, on the digital map of Hyrule, the symbol marking where the Shrine was is completely gone.

“I…I can’t believe that actually worked!” She laughs, collects herself, holds the Slate out at another angle and laughs again.“You were right about the spirit energy,” she insists. Funeral pires, ashes in the wind, a deliberate letting go; one way or another, a soul needs to be put to rest. Otherwise, it just spins like a windmill blade even after the wind is gone.

“How did you know?”

“I’m just good at solving puzzles.” Purah deserves a honey candy for reminding her of that. “It will speed the restoration up significantly if that’s all you need to do…” Her voice trails off slowly. He’s got his head next to hers, eyes fixed on the Slate in front of them. It takes everything inside her not to fold back against him, so viciously desperate for touch – for his touch – her hands start to tremble with urgency. The last drop of anger left inside her vanished with the shrine. And as predicted, the misery left behind is deep and agonizing and it goes by another name:

Loneliness.

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