fifteen
Legend of Zelda - the Chaos Glass
Chapter Fifteen
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Nabooru tried to find one opening, one possibility, but nothing about this was any good.
//Rather the point of a trap, idiot.//
Perched on the pillar, she was open to attack from just about any angle, though no place on the entire tower seemed any safer.
The Moblins they’d initially destroyed had been instantly replaced, Ganon hadn’t hesitated to pull them right out of the air, transported through shimmering pools of dark magic that circled the tower. He wasn’t going to conserve power in this fight, and who could blame him? It was the best chance he’d had to destroy the entire resistance since the Glass had shattered.
The Sheikah stood back-to-back-to-back in the center of it all, growling as their foes closed in. Impa was frozen where she stood, Ganon well aware she could do nothing to him anymore. Nabooru wasn’t surprised to find him staring at her, gloating, the triumph on his face complete, his victory absolute.
Honestly, did the wind have to catch his cloak just right, to make him even more grand and menacing? If she didn’t know better, the thief would have thought he’d done it on purpose. Mocking thoughts to keep her mind off just how fast her heart was beating.
“The Light? The instructions to come here? All of it was a fake?”
He smiled. If he hadn’t been evil and she hadn’t been quietly terrified, it could have been a casual conversation. “Rather effective lies, don’t you think? Maybe I have a skill for prophecy after all.”
“Is there even a way to turn things back to normal?”
Ganon shrugged, amused by her resigned tone, but Nabooru had never been a hero like Link or Zelda, and knew better than to try for noble optimism now.
“The same way everything else works in this damned country – the Triforce. When I reunite it, I’m sure it will put things to right.” Ganon glanced to the side, his booming voice almost sly. “And since we’re on the subject, where is that useless double of mine?”
Nabooru forced herself not to glance to where she knew Ganondorf was hiding – or maybe he’d already taken the chance to run, even now moving the Triforce of Power to safety.
//As long as Ganon doesn’t take it, it won’t really be his victory, no matter what happens to us – right?//
Slowly, and watching the dark lord all the while, Nabooru stepped off the pillar, feet blurring to shifting gold as she made her way across the thin ice. Ganon kept his eyes on her, and beyond everything else she had the right to hate him for, the thief hated him for his knowing smile, an expression he reserved only for her. The thought that he still had some claim on her, for all the time she’d spent unwillingly – unwittingly – in his service.
Nabooru didn’t deny her darker side – enjoyed it, much of the time, but it was all /hers/, and Ganon held no claim to any part. She shifted where she stood, testing him, but the dark lord did not move, the Sheikah still fighting furiously, Impa doing what she could to distract their enemies, managing to send one or two toppling off the side of the tower as they stupidly attempted to strike at her. The Sheikah were still overrun, though, and eventually they would be defeated.
Nothing to do then, but sigh, and draw her sword.
Ganon was most well known for his powers as a dark sorcerer, but Nabooru knew he could wield a blade well enough when he wanted, didn’t carry one just for show. Enough power behind that well-muscled arm to cleave most normal weapons in half if he landed a blow the right way – and she wasn’t Link, and she didn’t have the Master Sword, and all of this battle was really just railing against the inevitable.
Stubborn refusal to admit defeat, and Nabooru grinned, making up for what she lacked in advantage – as always – with a great deal of proud bluster. It wasn’t losing if you refused to admit it.
“So, then, Ganon - you want to give up?”
He was so similar, the way he watched her, to Ganondorf. Thoughtfulness there, studying her carefully but all for an evil purpose, knowing her so he could hurt her when it suited him. Her hand clenched more tightly around her sword, and she waited for him to shift or twitch so she could try and fail to cut his head off – but perhaps, if she could make him fall? Or had he planned for that possibility the way he seemed to have planned for everything else?
“I have always admired you, Nabooru. You are strong, and capable, and ruthless when need be. If they did not follow that fool Hylian, they would follow you.” Praise, if faint praise, but she wondered if he knew just how much was lost since it came from a man who’d tried to skin her alive on several occasions.
“You could be my queen.” Ganon smirked as Nabooru’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “Consider it. You know you cannot win here, that I will have the Triforce and the land – Hyrule, for our people. Imagine what you could do for them.”
Oh yes, imagine, except that he was not likely to be more merciful to the Gerudo than he was to the Hylians, and she had shed far too much blood for her sisters, convinced them to fight beside her, to watch them fall to their knees before such a tyrant.
“I’d rather die.”
He was unimpressed, and she steadied herself, refusing to flinch even as the power danced and crackled around his fist, electrifying his sword with dark, jagged sparks of black magic.
“So you will.”
When the scream came from above, Nabooru winced, wondering what new monster Ganon had conjured to destroy them – and wondering why he had bothered, why he thought they needed another enemy. It took her a moment to realize he was looking up too, and there was surprise in his eyes, and a sudden hail of spears rained down on the Moblins.
The fierce cry rang out again, and Nabooru finally recognized it, looking up to see Malon wheeling through the sky, the Rito armed and in formation all around her, brightly colored war banners waving as they swooped down to attack.
//She... brought them back?//
It took her a moment to recognize the laughter as her own, as she stared in wonder, the balance of the battle suddenly shifting back, closer to even as Moblins fell one after the other beneath the swift rain of sharpened steel. Nabooru had never spent much time with Malon, never had the opportunity to know much of the fierce, proud girl. Now, quite unexpectedly, it seemed she might have a chance to learn.
Ganon roared, catching a spear aimed for his heart with no room to spare, crushing it to splinters in his fist. He lifted his other hand high, calling out a few words that seemed to eat up the air, and Nabooru felt the tower shake violently beneath them. Her gaze snapped from left to right, still too slow to catch more than a dark blur of movement, great shadowy shapes flexing their wings and stretching out very sharp claws as they rose to engage the Rito in combat.
Chaos was Nabooru’s favorite element, and a part of her was enthralled by the spectacle, the Sheikah tearing through every monster and Moblin that drew near, but even more pouring through the portals, threatening to overrun the entire Tower. The bird people swooping and soaring above and around the fight below, chased by creatures that seemed no different than the portals, depthless darkness save for the razor claws and slashing beaks.
One moment, one instant of her attention, and when Nabooru looked back to where Ganon had been standing, he was gone. She instantly let her form shift, no longer solid – and felt him standing behind her even as she did so.
“You think such a change will save you?” He was close enough that his breath was hot against her ear. “You think I am such a weak sorcerer?”
He hit her hard, some combination of magic and a simple, well placed strike, and even as Nabooru tried to dodge she felt a searing pain against her side – even in her sand form, he’d managed to draw blood – and the ground was flying past beneath her, then sky as she tumbled. Nabooru had the chance to think about how close she must be to the edge just as she slammed into the back of a Moblin, sending him to his death instead.
Hitting the ground hurt more than usual, the wound Ganon gave her seemed ready to split her in two. Nabooru bit back against that pain, forcing herself onto mostly steady feet, a hot trickle of blood down her back perhaps the only thing keeping her from losing her focus, sliding to sand and being pulled apart by the winds. Either that, or he’d done something to his blade, to fix her in her solid form.
To make her easier to kill.
It wasn’t fair, she sure as hell wasn’t going to die with one blow, but the strike had crippled her badly. Ganon was still incredibly strong, even without the Triforce of Power, and as he lunged in and struck again it was all Nabooru could do to keep her sword in her hand, dodging and blocking, the reverberations making her arm and even her ribs ache.
No way to plan, or counter, it was all she could manage just to try to stay alive. The moment Nabooru’s foot finally slipped on the ice - even with her sword raised to block - she knew she was dead. Ganon forfeited the sudden, violent strike in favor of a few soft steps forward, standing over her, and for a moment she could not hear any Rito in the sky or see the Sheikah – it was all over, but hey they’d done their best – and really, there were worse things than their failure here.
Link and Zelda might still be safe. Ganondorf wasn’t here.
It wouldn’t be her choice, to have to see him die.
Ganon had his foot on her back, pushing her down against unyielding stone, crushing the life out of her. His voice was rumbling above her, likely gloating, as she tried to move her arm or sword or anything enough to matter. A stab of pain through the shoulder of her sword arm took her breath and vision – he was toying with her now, and at least she still couldn’t hear his words, his own pride and self-delusion and let him touch the Triforce like that, let him think it would make him grand and let him sit on his throne alone at the end of time and rot.
Not for the first time – though not very often – Nabooru wished she was more like Princess Zelda. There was a prayer for this moment, and the Seventh Sage would certainly know - but she had never learned it.
“You leave her alone.”
Just that simple, a few soft words, and Ganon’s attention was off of her. The edge of the blade already spattered with her blood glinted in the light, moving away as he turned to face his new opponent, Ganondorf rising from his hiding place, taking the stairs slowly, the path agonizingly clear between him and his double. No Moblins to get in the way, nothing to use as a shield or a blind. No tricks and no plans – Ganon was killing her slowly, and Ganondorf wouldn’t sit by and watch it happen.
//No. No no no no...//
If it were only her will she needed, she would have been on her feet and bringing her sword down on Ganon in moments, every muscle in her body clamoring to rise to the task. It was hard to move, though, still difficult to breathe or even see clearly, and her best efforts could only fist her hands against the freezing cold stone of the tower. Logic screamed that her injuries were small, small enough to overcome them and save the one she’d promised to save but she hurt, she /hurt/...
Ganondorf held his sword with a child’s awkwardness – determination and courage like a second cloak around his shoulders, the Triforce shining on his hand though he didn’t know how to use it, and Ganon must have realized that. A scholar, not a warrior, not the half of the evil tyrant who knew – who /relished/ the chance to kill. Ganon was staring at his double with amused contempt – a darkness there that seemed overly fierce, even for him. It was sickening, that nothing inspired Ganon’s loathing more fiercely than looking at all that was good in himself.
“I will take back what belongs to me.” Ganon gestured to the mark of the Triforce, and Ganondorf gestured to Nabooru in return.
“It belongs to them. No power so great belongs in one person’s hands, at the sway of one will. You know that. I /know/ you know that.”
He shifted, just slightly, and Nabooru felt a little bit of satisfaction to finally see him intimidated, if only a little bit. It still didn’t put any spare power into her body, she was still shaking too hard to lift herself up, even as Ganon took another step closer, close enough that one sweep of his sword, one lunge... no...
“Do you think you have the right to lecture me? The Glass is an instrument of chaos, it created you merely as an accident. You have no purpose here, your existence has no meaning. You are merely one more obstacle between me and my goal.”
“Perhaps that is meaning enough.”
Ganondorf said softly, and then the sweet, gentle scholar lunged in to attack, a strike that Ganon blocked with ease, sending his double stumbling to the side, though she was proud to see he’d managed to keep hold of his sword. Nabooru took a deep breath, and levered herself up into a sitting position with her good hand, waiting a few moments while her ribs decided if they’d allow her to continue both moving and breathing.
Ganon circled his double, and she was surprised that Ganondorf managed to parry the blows as well as he did, perhaps a little stronger, a little more battle worthy than either of them gave him credit for – not that it would be enough. After all, Link had been their champion, and he hadn’t even made it here to try to defeat the dark lord.
Unfortunately, Ganon was nearing the end of his patience, one last blow that seemed as if it would have easily snapped his double’s sword in half, if the angle had been slightly different.
“What can you honestly hope to do here?”
Ganondorf smiled, a gentle, simple expression that had no business on this battlefield, and there was an acceptance and a strange, impossible hope in his eyes that made Nabooru’s blood chill.
“Bring an end to your terrible reign.”
Ganon’s chuckled softly, and she knew she wasn’t going to get to her feet in time.
“You’ve sided with the weak and deluded long enough. Let me dispel some illusions for you.” Ganon roared and lunged, smile broad and mocking as he blocked his double’s strike with his sword, and snapped his wrist out and around, sliding a hidden dagger deep between Ganondorf’s ribs.
Nabooru screamed, and Ganon certainly relished the sound – until he looked down, ready to see defeat, horror and despair in the eyes of his unworthy heir. Ganondorf was smiling back at him, his eyes peaceful, even amused, and that was certainly the most disturbing thing of all.
“Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”
Ganon jerked the knife out, feeling a sudden, odd pain in his own chest at the motion – had the useless fool been carrying a hidden weapon?
“We’re the same.” Ganondorf laughed, a little trickle of blood dripping down the side of his mouth. “Didn’t you know that, all-powerful sorcerer? You can’t separate me from you, and to destroy... me... to destroy me is...”
He fell, but Ganon could finish the sentence well enough on his own, as the hand he pulled away from his chest dripped red. He stared at it for a long moment in utter disbelief, and Nabooru watched him crash to the ground, silent and still and – finally – dead and gone and defeated.
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“Link?!”
Zelda could no more stop the cry than she could keep her arms from rising, trying to deflect an attack not meant for her, a desperate gesture in an empty room. The sense of Link, that bond they shared through the Triforce wavered wildly, and Zelda was running before the realization had completely sunk in. Ignoring the threat of attack, the slick floors and steep dropoffs – everything forgotten in the desperate need to reach his side, to get there before...
//I won’t let it happen.// Princess of Hyrule and Seventh Sage and bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom and certainly one of those was enough. By the goddess’ graces, surely Link must be as dear to them as he was to her, to everyone who needed him as their Hero.
//We can’t lose him. I can’t lose him.//
She skidded, moving too fast even for her Sheikah trained skills to keep her from sliding, but Zelda didn’t care, hit the wall hard and pushed herself off again, running nearly sightless, all her senses turned inward, searching and waiting and hoping for any sign that the flicker of fear, hope and desperation she’d felt had not been Link’s last.
A wild roar, and a violent rumble all but took her off her feet, Zelda rolling to the side as a pillar of ice smashed down right where she should have been. The lights flickered, and darkness – a shadow swept through the entire tunnel, around her and past before she could do more than draw a blade, looking around in shock for her foe. As the feeling of evil faded, she realized it had vanished completely, the air lighter, the caves less ominous – but the sick feeling in her gut only grew, and Zelda started sprinting again, following that intangible link, the light and hope that had always – would always – connect her to her Hero.
Always.
“Link?”
Her eyes could pick out nothing in the darkness beyond the half-broken wall - recently splintered, she thought - but her sense of the Triforce, of reconnection was at its strongest.
Every instinct she possessed, all the time spent as Sheik with everything Impa had taught her said that walking into a pitch-black room was insanity – but Link was in there, Link needed her. She licked her lips but didn’t speak again, already presenting a fine target to whatever might be waiting inside.
Zelda took a few steps inside, the silence making her ears ring, and who could tell if the floor was about to give way beneath her? The sense of evil was strong here, but Dark Link would have to open his eyes to see her, and she could use that red for her target, and her knives were ready in her hands as she shifted forward, waiting for the attack, waiting for the blast of light that would try to blind her, though certainly the monster would want to gloat, would show her Link trapped or injured and she would take him down in his moment of ego.
The ground was littered with debris, pebbles that skittered when she slid her feet across the floor, other larger fragments of ice and stone that did not budge where they had been impaled. Zelda braced herself each time she inadvertently made a sound, expecting a sudden attack, and so when her foot kicked against something soft and yielding, it caught her entirely by surprise.
A soft moan, a ragged breath, and there was no one else it could be.
“Link!?” Zelda dropped to the ground, one hand still holding her knife while the other reached out, finding the edge of cloth, an arm, reaching down to clutch at the small hand. She didn’t want him to be smaller, not now, because she could feel the wetness on his tunic and his skin, and she could smell his sweat and pain and blood.
“Link?! Answer me!!!”
“Zel... Zelda?” So soft, nearly swallowed up by rough, hitched breathing, and every place she touched was wet, soaked through, and she knew if she could see it, her hands would be smeared with red.
“I’m here. I’m here now, it’s all right.”
“Dark Link... and it’s dark, still cold... he’s gone, Zel. I destroyed him, but I couldn’t... I couldn’t...”
“No no no, it’s okay.” she soothed, trying to think, trying to see him, trying to do anything other than listen to how uneven, how wrong his breaths sounded out against the icy walls. “Link, just keep calm. I’m going to try to... I...”
Golden light slowly illuminated the room, and when Zelda first noticed it, she couldn’t imagine where it was coming from, and then she didn’t want to know, watching the Triforce mark fading from his hand, breaking into the tiniest crystals. A trickle of golden sand that swirled around their entwined fingers, and she gasped as the power began to flow into her, another triangle joining the one already on her skin.
“No. No no NO! Don’t leave! Please, Link. Please, you can’t! Stay with me, please!” She threw her arms around him, already knowing what it meant when the Triforce had passed from him to her, but if she held on tight enough it wouldn’t matter, she could make it not matter. The tears fell and she let them, and even though she could hear her gasps echoing in the room her breath seemed unable to claw its way out of her chest and what did it matter, really?
He was already so cold.
“Please... please, no...” She huddled over him, whispering urgently for help from higher powers she already knew couldn’t – or wouldn’t – come to assist her. A hand weakly cupped the back of her head, sliding down to her neck, ready to spend his last moments comforting her. It wasn’t even his own face, weariness and pain staring out from the girl’s battered features – her last moments with him, and she wouldn’t even see his face.
Link smiled, and for a moment there was nothing else in the whole of Hyrule, not even death. “Love you, Zelda. ... love you... so much.”
“I love you Link. Oh, my Link, my love.”
Zelda stroked his temple, the soft skin of his cheek, in so much pain her teeth were chattering, refused to stop. Out of some insane impulse, her training or stupid, stupid hope or just that her hands needed something to do, she reached down to the hollow of his throat, and around, checking for his pulse, to see how much time she might have.
Checking, searching the smooth skin, because she had time, she had moments, at least, seconds certainly? Her fingers traced abstracts, pressing harder as she realized she could feel nothing because there was nothing to feel. Zelda gasped as if she’d been punched, her fingers clenched into fists as she bent over double against the ice.
She didn’t really mean to start screaming, but once she had started there seemed no reason to stop.
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Nabooru saved all her words, all her tears in the desperate reach for enough strength to drag herself to Ganondorf’s side. It took too many moments, even one spare heartbeat too long with the pool of blood spreading out beneath him, the hitched breathing she could hear rather easily now, as the shadows had disappeared from the sky and the Sheikah and Rito had banded together to destroy the last of the now-panicked Moblins. As far as their luck had gone, she was expecting the tower to suddenly crumble, fall apart without the dark lord’s power to support it. If anything, the wind gentled, the sun warm against her face – it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.
“... it’s not fair. It’s not fair at all.” She was growling the words, hands clenched against his chest – it had only taken one look to see there was no saving him, not now, especially with Ganon already dead. No hope, so she could let the tears fall, shaking with the pain of stifled sobs, the throb of her injuries buried beneath grief and loss – and she thought he was gone, already faded too far to hear, when a hand wrapped gently around her wrist, and his eyes met hers.
"I was never real, Nabooru, never supposed to be real. It was never fair that I should be allowed to exist, to be here with you, but I was.” He smiled up into the sun even as his body shuddered, and his next breath was a gasp. “I am so grateful. I was given life, if only for a short time, and you were there, and that... don’t cry for me. I was so lucky, so lucky to...”
She watched his eyes, until the last spark of life within them faded, and his hand was only a warm, limp weight against her own. Nabooru kept watching, never took her eyes from his face even when she lifted a hand to gently close his, and pressed her cheek against his. It was his last wish, that she shouldn’t cry for him, but she thought he would forgive her.
Sniffling, she grinned, and had to touch her face to believe the smile was possible – bittersweet and beautiful, his last gift for her. After all she’d worried, all she’d wondered about how it would feel to destroy him, in the end he had chosen that path for himself. He’d given his own life, and she’d never had to choose, and his sacrifice had saved them all.
The Rito were gathering on the tower – too late, too late – surveying the damage, looking at them all in confusion - the feline Shiekah, the two Ganons. How much had Malon been able to tell them? Impa could explain what had happened, Nabooru couldn’t bear thinking about anything past the body in the circle of her arms.
At least, she’d thought so, until the growing sound of discontent – gasps and murmurs - finally drew her out of her grief, enough to look up, wearily wondering how things could get worse.
The crowd parted, and Zelda appeared, and Link was in her arms, limp and blood-soaked and... gone. She’d just been too busy grieving for Ganondorf to feel it. High overhead, Malon let out a shriek of agony, compliment to the force that quickly tore the thief’s heart in half.
//Oh. Oh no.//
All their struggle, all their hope, and suddenly the death of the greatest villain in Hyrule didn’t seem like any kind of victory. Zelda walked forward, sightless, not looking at any of them or even at Link but staring straight ahead, as if searching for an answer in a place no one else could see. Nabooru stifled a sob as the mark flickered on Ganon’s hand, a terrible finality in its fading.
She didn’t have to ask where it had gone, or what it meant. Zelda was glowing, lit from within by a golden star that only grew brighter with each moment, each footstep. The Triforce reunited – and what would happen next was anyone’s guess, she wasn’t sure even Zelda knew completely.
Nabooru looked down, stroked Ganondorf’s still features with a soft sigh. Shut her eyes against a flaring brightness so all-consuming that even when she looked up, she could see neither Link or Zelda, and when Nabooru finally blinked away the afterimage, they had both disappeared.
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A warm wind blew across her skin, nothing at all like the ice-covered tower, and so Zelda knew they had been transported, even before her eyes adjusted, the brightness fading just enough for her to look around.
Everything glowed golden here, even the air, hazy puffs like windblown seeds and tiny golden flecks rising and falling in a thick, beautiful fog for as far as she could see. The silence was deep and peaceful, a few pillars and arches shifting in and out of the fog, statues of beautiful dancers and maids picking flowers - a world at play. An innocence Zelda had all but abandoned, too painful to remember. Even the sun hadn’t shone so brightly on Hyrule, not since Ganon had taken the throne.
If she hadn’t been holding Link’s body in her arms, it would have been a paradise. She’d gone to the top of the tower, pulled by the same inexorable force that had guided her through much of her life, that had pulled her here. Knowing Ganon was dead even before she’d felt the Triforce return to her, though not knowing what it would mean, or what she could do with that power. If they’d allowed her to bring Link with her, there must have been hope, right?
The full Triforce pulsed against her skin, and she could feel – stronger, steadier and tethered to this place. But what good would that do, if she didn’t know how to use it? It seemed laughably stupid, but there had never been a clear consensus on just what the Triforce would do, once it was joined. Power, yes, a chance to remake Hyrule, but even Rauru was not sure on how exactly it could be used.
//We never really thought we would get that far, that we might win.//
Hello, sister. Step forward and be welcomed.
The voice was soft, a harmony of voices, gentle and yet very heavy in her mind, and as Zelda watched, the golden fog swirled and cleared in front of her, revealing a small path on a slight incline. Slowly, carefully, she made her way forward, and the higher she climbed the brighter the world around her became, until Zelda had to shut her eyes again, and wait until the brightness subsided.
Welcome, Sage and sister. We are very glad to see you here.
The voices sounded like singing, and it was impossible to look directly at them, the light blinding, but if she tipped her head and looked from the corner of her eye, Zelda could make out three seated forms, radiant and golden, and it was difficult to tell whether they were seated on the Triforce, around it, /within it/ or all three at once.
Din, Nayru and Farore, the goddesses who had created all that was good and right within Hyrule. One of them lifted a hand to her, to the burden in her arms.
The Hero. The champion of Hyrule.
“He died for you.” Ragged anger was hardly the way to meet a trio of goddesses, but Zelda couldn’t keep the emotion out of her voice. If she had been young, she could have been properly humble and reverent, but years of depending only on herself and her friends, years of facing an ever-dwindling hope of success had left her faith somewhat tarnished. How dare they seem so at peace, so serene, when it had never been their sacrifice.
He did not. The champion gave his life for yours.
The goddesses’ tone was gentle, but her hands still clutched Link’s body in dismay and confusion. It hurt, how easily they smiled, a silent, emotionless chorus who would do nothing for her love now that Hyrule had been spared – and yes, she knew that was what they’d meant, as well as she had ever known anything as a Sage.
“Put it back the way it was. Please.”
Zelda let the tears stream down her face unfettered, there was certainly no stopping them now. Zelda hated being wise, hated knowing she couldn’t expect to recover the only thing she wanted, that she /needed/. The goddesses wouldn’t undo death simply for her, not even for the Hero of Time.
We may only undo what the Glass has done, and return Hyrule to itself. All will be restored.
Zelda’s logic, all her Sage’s knowledge faltered and fell apart in the face of sheer panic.
“No, that isn’t all. You know damn well that /isn’t/ all! Please... please, there must be a way...”
She was on her knees, bowed over Link’s body, and no longer begging for anything to do with her land or her people. Asking for the impossible, ready to humble herself, to grovel and beg like the most penitent of sinners if it could bring him back. The future had such sharp teeth, the enormity of ruling Hyrule alone rising up, insurmountable, and even the pleas slowly turned to ash in her mouth.
There had been no way to avoid taking the Triforce, but she could be nothing but a darkness here, her wish was a necessary evil, not a victory, an ugliness in this beautiful land. Too much had been lost, and changed, and Zelda pressed her face against Link’s chest, weeping. Grieving, and she did not think she could ever stop.
“Oh, my daughter. You were not meant for despair, and there is no need. You have won the day.”
Zelda’s head snapped up – the goddesses were gone, the swirling mists all that remained... except for that voice?
“Father?”
“The Goddesses will return Hyrule to itself – but it is your choice, your wish that the Triforce may grant.”
Rauru’s voice now, though there was still no way to tell where it came from, “You, the Seventh Sage, the strongest and most pure – and I know that it was never a mistake, to entrust such a power to you.”
Zelda’s eyes scanned the haze carefully, and she still nearly missed the shadow that formed – a small shade, a small figure that finally stepped through the bright curtain. She gasped, as an old, old memory struck her, of how she’d always been a little jealous of the forest sprite, how delicate and tiny she’d been – and yet, so strong, right to the end.
“S-saria?”
As serene and sweet as she’d ever been in life, clad all in familiar green, the sprite’s bare feet were silent against the stones as she slowly stepped forward.
“Hello, Princess. It’s so good to see you again.”
She said, and knelt down with a bright smile, one hand coming up to cover hers, the Triforce blazing beneath, her fingers clutching Link’s tunic tight.
“He’s d-dead, Saria. He’s gone.”
It would kill her, to see Link step out of the golden brilliance, to hear his voice in this place, but she had dreaded it so fully that when the sprite shook her head all Zelda could do was stare in confusion. Until her hand rose, and fell, and rose again with Link’s second breath.
“I... Link?”
Perhaps the goddesses had not been as cruel, as uncaring as she had cursed them for. Perhaps the power she held could make miracles happen – especially the ones she wanted most.
Saria leaned forward, as Zelda tried to remember how to breathe, smelling flowers and clear, cool streams and all the best of high summer as the sprite gently kissed her brow.
“Now, what will you wish for?”
Birthday parties and flickering candles and being young again. She was still young, and there was still time to be young again. Zelda smiled, closed her eyes with the tears still swimming there, and dreamed of Link, her sweet, brave fairy boy, and dreamed of peace.