epilogue
All the fighting skills in the world couldn’t do anything to save Link from the violent choke hold of his new dress shirt. He tried to keep his swearing low and his flailing to a minimum, though catching a glimpse of a figure at the door made him add babbling to the mix, as if his dignity knew it was all for nothing, and wanted to get things over as quickly as possible.
“I don’t think I’ve got all the buttons here. How in the world can a /shirt/ be so complicated?!”
Spending all that time as a woman should have, perhaps, improved his skills at fancy dress, but Link was having no end of trouble with the shirt, coat, and some extra band of material that didn’t seem to go anywhere at all. Finally, he managed to extract himself before being completely strangled by his sleeves, only to shrug his coat on and find himself right back where he’d started. Half bent over, with his shoulders cocked back and his dress jacket tangled around his arms, afraid to move for fear of ripping it in half.
Impa finally moved from her place at the door as he flapped his arms feebly, letting out a soft groan.
“I thought it was only nerves, when Zelda told me to check on you. I might hesitate to give my blessing, if this were an everyday occurrence.”
Before he could turn to explain himself, two capable hands pulled the back of his jacket down, untangling him with near-magic ease. He smoothed out a few wrinkles, giving her a broad, sheepish grin.
“Hey, if this jacket were attacking Zelda, I’d give it what for.” She didn’t smile, but he could see it anyway. Link stretched back and forth, until nothing tugged or seemed ready to rip. “How’s the bride?”
Now there was a rare smile, which told him everything worth telling. Impa’s eyes studied him for a long moment, but he didn’t feel any hesitation in staring back. Maybe, under different circumstances, it would have been her job to challenge the bridegroom one final time, especially considering the princess was marrying a peasant who wasn’t technically even a citizen of Hyrule.
He knew better, that she likely needed to stare at him for the same reason he would touch the castle’s banisters, the restored tapestries and the cool, solid stone walls. Telling himself it was all real, there were no more monsters, no more battles - it was over.
“You will treat her well, Link of the Kokiri.” Not a question, or a threat – she had been Zelda’s bodyguard, friend and companion for many years, and now this was simply formality, as it was his turn to take her place. By the time Link turned to face the mirror, she had disappeared, the door shut behind her.
The assault on the tower was a mostly blurry memory, though Link distinctly remembered fighting Dark Link, remembered being impaled by several spears of ice – he’d died, of that he was certain, only to wake well and whole in Zelda’s arms. A golden nimbus of light surrounding them both, gentle eyes staring down at him. True eyes, unaltered by the glass, and her real mouth breaking into a smile, tears of joy on her cheeks as she bent down to kiss him. Zelda had brought him back, had restored all of Hyrule, and returned the Triforce safely to the Sacred Land.
Certainly, it should have prepared him for anything, but Link still nervously flicked at the dress braids at the edges of his shoulders, nearly startling each time the long cape flicked past the corner of his eye. He was a forest child, unfamiliar with most of the decorations he wore, this particular history of Hyrule, but the meaning was clear – the formal dress for Princess Zelda’s husband, the new Lord Consort to the Queen of Hyrule.
“Hey! Stop pushing!”
A creak, and a giggle, and Ruto and Malon both fell into the room, the latter all but falling on top of Link before catching herself, long dress rustling around her. It had been so fast, barely two weeks from the restoration of Hyrule to now, but somewhere in that time the two of them had procured matching bridesmaids dresses, glittering and silver-blue.
Link suspected the shade had been Ruto’s idea, and that Malon had spent much more of her time thinking about the buffet line, still enjoying all the privileges of being human, after how long she’d spent in the sky. Or perhaps she’d enjoyed the chance to truly fly, or she was thinking about her newly-reunited parents, and all her clan now settling back to their homes.
“So, this is Lord Link of Hyrule.” Malon drawled, walking around him in a slow circle, feigning only very slight approval. “Well, I suppose it’s better than Lady Link, eh?”
He wished she hadn’t remembered so much from her time as a bird, knowing she’d tease him about it for twice as long. Ruto still wouldn’t tell them what or where she had been when the Glass had broken, but she had blushed incriminatingly when he’d asked. Link planned to get it out of her at the wedding celebration, she had no tolerance when it came to drinking, but also none for refusing a dare.
“You wouldn’t tease me like that, if you knew what Zelda’s councilors were like. Out of hiding like they had a fire under their feet, ready to put the country back together with all their rules. All I need is for one of them to pull out some law from some old tome, anything to keep a commoner from inheriting the throne.”
Ruto snorted rudely. “You’re hardly a commoner, Link. Besides, if anyone tries to do that, all Zelda has to do is hand Hyrule over to my kingdom. No rules there that princesses can’t marry whomever they see fit.” She nodded sagely, though her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Zelda would do it, don’t tell me she wouldn’t.”
“Besides, we’ll demand it.” Malon grinned, eyes flashing, as if she couldn’t wait to get into that fight. “I’ve got my father here, and all the Rito and... everybody.”
Link tried to adjust the ornament on his epaulet, though no matter what he did the damned thing never seemed to lay flat. “Whole kingdom waiting to see the fairy boy play dress up. Not exactly a comforting thought, Malon.”
“If I was just here to make you feel comfortable, I wouldn’t be a very good friend, now would I?” Malon giggled, and kissed him on the cheek, turning as the distant bell marked the hour. Only one more of those, and he’d be a married man.
Ruto seemed to be thinking the same, kissing him on the other cheek before grabbing Malon’s shoulder and pulling them back toward the door as the last chime faded.
“Our cue to get ready, and you should finish floundering about too.” Ruto’s smile was not sympathetic, and Malon was giggling, the both of them finding his nervousness hilarious. “Don’t worry. If they try to keep you from the throne, we’ll start throwing chairs.”
Link didn’t have even a sensible retort for that, barely had a chance to think about saying goodbye before they were halfway down the hall, giggles echoing off the arched ceiling. So long since he’d heard that sound, so long, when he’d thought he would never hear it again.
One last piece to his wardrobe, the sword sliding into a simple sheath at his side. Not the Master Sword, that had been consigned to the same safe haven as the Triforce, no longer needed now that evil had been vanquished – though Link still wished, now and then, that he had it with him. A wish without logic, but his dark twin’s words were one of the only things that had stuck in his recent memory, completely clear and as chilling as the first time they’d been uttered.
//We’ll win, we always win in the end, and your children’s children will face the same endless battle.//
Link stared at his reflection, daring it to move, to see the colors fade, black and gray and red – but of course, nothing happened. Dark Link may not have been fully wrong, and it might be many years before Link would stop jumping at shadows, glancing twice at his reflection – but that was only vigilance, the price to pay for peace, for living, not the result of any dark curse.
A few guards in the castle, the lightest patrol, and unlike so many of his previous visits, with Ganon on the throne or otherwise, Link didn’t have to worry about sneaking through. If anything, the armored suits creaked a little, shifting into even sharper attention as he passed.
He would have preferred a simple ceremony, and knew Zelda felt the same, but it also seemed fitting to commemorate their victory with such an important act. A way to show to all the country that the reign of Ganon was over, and a new age had begun. A marriage and a coronation all in one day – and Malon had quickly added that it would save a lot on flowers and gifts.
It was a relatively short trip to the main courtyard, but his palms were sweaty and his heart racing a lot more than he’d thought it would. Stage fright should have been no comparison to facing down Ganon – but it was, and Link had to keep his calm, still had one important visit to make.
The king’s tomb had been inside the palace once, though Impa had managed to get the body of Zelda’s father out after he had died, safely entombed in a distant town. No question Ganondorf had earned a place among the kings and heroes buried in the royal tomb, but it had not been the greatest surprise, after all effects of the Glass had been removed from the land, to discover there was no body for them to bury.
It had been decided to remember him, then, with a gravestone in the courtyard of the royal tomb, a simple stone marker beneath a tall tree, the rustle of water from the culvert like soft music. A gentle, peaceful respite, should Ganondorf’s spirit ever have need of it.
He wasn’t surprised to find Nabooru there, one hand resting against the stone. When Zelda had explained it all to him, he’d expected her to be hurt, perhaps even angry with him, that he had returned when her love had not. The thief had been quiet, and deep in her grief, but had still smiled and embraced him, even teasing him a little, as she always had. Making it clear that she would mourn, but she would move on, knowing that the whole world was nothing less than his gift to her.
Link stepped up to the other side of the monument, slightly curved stone with a simple inscription – Ganondorf, beloved friend, hero of Hyrule – and wouldn’t the historians have a fun time figuring that out. Far in the future, when all their names had long since passed into legend, when even he had trouble believing their greatest foe would also be their strongest ally.
He didn’t speak, and it was a while before Nabooru looked up, though he wasn’t surprised to feel fingers poking at the ornaments on his shoulders.
“No way you did that all by yourself.”
“Impa helped. A little.” He mock-scowled, leaning enough to the side that she couldn’t bat at his braids anymore. “I saw one of the scouts – I guess I shouldn’t call them scouts anymore. Messengers? Queen’s Aides?”
He’d been so busy with the wedding, with Zelda’s coronation and learning his lines, where he needed to place his feet, enough details to make his head spin. Any time that wasn’t spent in preparation he mostly spent resting, or dodging advisors who – for whatever reason – thought the Hero of Time knew anything about policy in the state. He hadn’t been able to speak with the Gerudo as much as he would have liked – and had very little idea what Nabooru’s plans were, or what the preliminary steps would be, for a true partnership between their lands.
Nabooru smiled. “I won’t take a title. I think it would be better for all of us, if there was no claim for power, at least for a while.”
The Gerudo would still take her as their leader, he was certain of that, she was the perfect choice, so close to Zelda. It would be interesting to see more of the Gerudo in Hyrule, and he’d always meant to take her up on her offer, to visit her lands.
“I tried not to think about it,” he admitted, and she nodded knowingly. “I wasn’t ever so sure we would get here.”
“Or that I would ever know a king.” Nabooru smiled. “After the coronation, I will go back to lead my people, and see what we may do to keep a lasting peace with Hyrule.” Her hand lay against her stomach, a gesture with weight, contemplative, and Link’s gaze moved from that, to the distant smile in her eyes and back again. “I will do what I can, that the new king may be a blessing, not a curse.”
“Nabooru... are you...?”
She smiled, dazzlingly bright, somehow even more brilliant after being tempered with sorrow.
“We do what we can, don’t we Link, with the time gifted to us?” She tipped her head, as the bells began to chime the half-hour. “You ought to get going. It isn’t proper for a hero to make a princess wait.”
Link nodded, and finally managed to get past his own surprise enough to smile. She was still standing near the marker, when he looked back from the edge of the courtyard, but it no longer seemed so sad, and he knew he wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.
Bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, but worse luck to see the court advisors, and Link took advantage of his slightly larger stride to make it up the steps as they clustered, chastising and complaining – he was late, he hadn’t taken the practice ceremony seriously enough, how did he ever expect to be king if he didn’t keep to a schedule? – and Link made little noises that he hoped sounded like contrite interest, and fervently hoped no one – including himself – would catch his cloak underfoot and send him flying back down the staircase.
Finally – somehow - he made it to the top, and stood there for a moment with his eyes closed, catching his breath as the advisors continued to chatter and babble around him. It reminded him a bit of Navi – and even that thought was no longer so sad or desolate. The forest was waking up again, the Deku Tree alive. One day, very soon he would go home, and it would /be/ home again.
The chatter of voices became a hush, and the hush trailed off into silence, and Link finally opened his eyes, knowing exactly what he would see – even without the Triforce to connect them, he was still her hero.
Zelda was always, always beautiful, from the first moment he’d seen her in the palace, to every moment he’d spent fighting alongside her when she had been Sheik, mud-covered and blood-spattered and surrounded by foes. Pure, no matter what had happened, no matter what war or fate had forced them into, nothing could take that innocence away from her. Still, it was one thing to know it, and another thing to see it, when great care was taken to make the outer beauty match the inner.
Zelda, standing before him as the princess and the ruler she was, hair twined with pearls, strands curling down around her pointed ears, more pearls on her fingers and around her neck. Her gown was a brilliant white, a color he’d all but forgotten, no place for it running and hiding, cowering in the muck or on the battlefield. The bodice of her dress glimmered with a thousand tiny beads, intricately sewn on and so fragile-looking he was afraid to breathe. Link couldn’t imagine who had kept the dress, hidden it away for this moment, believing that there would be a time for embroidered flowers and long trains and the twisted band of silver around her brow, soon to be replaced with a crown of gold.
Zelda stepped to his side, and all he could smell were the flowers in her hands.
“I can’t /breathe/ in this thing,” she murmured through a placid smile, “... and I’m going to trip on my train or your cloak, and send us both right over the balcony.”
Link barely suppressed a laugh, offering his arm, watching as she fumbled with the bouquet for a moment, muttering more soft curses until she caught him watching, and stuck out her tongue.
“If I’d known it would be like this, I would have made the goddesses keep that the same, so you could be the one in this ridiculous-”
He wondered how many rules were broken, by kissing the bride before the wedding, but between the numerous outraged mutters from the advisors and the way Zelda smiled against his mouth and pulled him closer, Link was content that he’d done the right thing. He was halfway sure someone told them to sound the trumpets, start the ceremony just to keep them from taking their last opportunity to elope.
“So which comes first, the coronation, or the marriage?” He whispered, keeping his eyes fixed forward.
“Just don’t let me fall down the stairs.” Zelda murmured back, and he wasn’t sure if his hands were shaking from nervousness, joy or both.
Looking out into the formidable crowd, he could see all the city that could fit inside the inner walls, the colorful garb of the Rito, sun glancing off feathers decorated in a thousand hues. The Zoras had come as well, a special fountain built for the extended royal family to watch from in comfort. Malon and Ruto stood on the dais, along with the priest, and Impa, standing tall and proud in the colors of the Hylian royal guard – all the kingdom ready to welcome them both, as Hyrule’s new rulers.
So many changes, and more to come, but Link thought he had already learned his lesson, challenging Ganondorf for that first time on the rooftop, and learning he had been wrong. Fear was never the way to meet change, and if he waited, and watched, and /trusted/ enough, it might turn out to hold the answers he sought.
A meteor shower tonight, Ganondorf had said so, and so Link would bring his new bride, his queen out into the night, to watch the stars in peace, and whatever new challenges lay ahead, he would be ready to meet them.
The Hero of Time, the Lord Consort of Hyrule... and a boy who loved a girl, more than anything else in the world. Giving Zelda’s hand a slight squeeze, Link took a deep breath, and they stepped out into the light.
- end