closed 🌻 a not so welcome departure

[multidisciplinary]

Who: TOTK Link and Zelda
Which: Closed Log (forward dated to October 17)
Where: Wishing Well
What: Zelda is using the wishing well to go home.
Warnings: Major Tears of the Kingdom spoilers, metaphors of suicidal ideation



[ It's a cold night in the middle of October, much too cold for Zelda to be outside wearing only her ancient Hyrulean dress, but that's exactly what she's doing. There's no point in taking her coat—better to leave it in Songerein, where someone else might be able to use it. Even if it can come back to Hyrule with her (which it probably can't), she'll soon have no use for it.

It's time to go home and complete the task only she can do.

Zelda stands before the wishing well, staring sightlessly into its depths and worrying the stone on her choker between her thumb and forefinger. The steps of her plan race through her mind like film on a reel. She's been trapped here in Songerein for three months now, prevented from swallowing her secret stone and transforming into an ageless dragon whose sacred light will heal and strengthen the Master Sword for eons to come. The sword is the only tool that can defeat the Demon King and the princess is the only person who can ensure that it will be strong enough for that task. Zelda tried swallowing the stone when she first awoke in Songerein, confident that even the dream world wouldn't be able to contain the power of a dragon. She didn't count on it preventing the transformation entirely.

But there are other ways to return to one's home world, as Zelda has recently learned. With enough baubles, the wishing well is capable of sending a dreamwalker home and then bringing them back later. The particulars are still unknown to the scientists at the Dream Observatory, but the method is tested and proven. Only this time, the dreamwalker won't be coming back. As soon as she reaches Hyrule, she intends to swallow the stone and transform. Once she is a dragon, Songerein will not be able to steal her back. She will deliver the Master Sword to Link.

Link... Just the fleeting thought of him makes Zelda's heart falter. It was so much easier to accept this sacrifice when she was still in Hyrule and Link was just a goal for her to strive for and a memory of a life she would never live again. To see him again—and for him to know the sacrifice she made—has hurt like a knife in her heart for the past three months. Being with him again after so long has felt so natural, so comfortable, so right. And yet, her thoughts always return to the reality that this will not last. And the longer they are together, the harder it becomes to leave.

That's why she has stolen away to the wishing well in the middle of the night, leaving behind only a letter for Link to find on the kitchen table. She couldn't bring herself to say goodbye to him in person. If she does... If she sees that heartbroken look in his eyes again, Zelda knows she'll lose her nerve. For as deeply as she cares for him, for as much as he deserves a proper goodbye, she can't give him one.

Tears sting the corners of Zelda's eyes, and she roughly brushes them away with the back of her hand. She has to do this for him, for Hyrule, for everyone she has ever loved. Her life, her feelings... they're such a small sacrifice to see the Demon King defeated.

Zelda lifts her left hand and uncurls her fingers, revealing three shiny baubles. All she needs to do is toss them into the well and then she can go home. But as her heartbeat quickens, the princess finds herself unable to move her hand. It will take but a moment. It will be painless. She begins to tremble—from the cold night air, she insists, nothing else. But still her hand does not move. Still more tears blur the edges of her vision. The tiny voice deep in her heart, that she has tried so hard to quash, whimpers 'don't.' ]

Comments

[skyglider]

[Rationally, Link understands why Zelda would say that. Why she would sneak away in the middle of the night and leave him with only her handwriting. Why she would say nothing even when she knew what she was planning. He does understand, and yet...

Stop following me. Leave me alone. I don't need a bodyguard, so go back. It's not as though he's never heard her -- he's listened to every word, committed and recommitted every sound to memory by now. But he is stubborn and determined, and frankly not very good at following orders. Even when he was in the employ of Hyrule Castle, he was not very good at following those particular orders. And now?

Don't take another step.

But he does, striding forward until he stands at her back. If they're going to do this, this time, they're going to do it properly.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ Somehow, Zelda isn't surprised when she hears Link's footsteps behind her. Of course he didn't listen. He's always been like that with her, picking and choosing which of her orders to obey and which to ignore. For one who always looked the perfect loyal soldier on the outside, few would expect Link to be so insubordinate. It's something she normally likes about him. ]

Why...

[ She lowers her arms to her sides, clenching her fists, but firmly keeps her back to Link. She knows he's right behind her, but she absolutely will not turn around. She will not look at him. ]

Why must you make this so difficult?

[skyglider]

[She's close. Close enough to touch, and yet, the distance between them feels all-encompassing, like a deep ravine, like the ages of time that separated them at home. She is close enough to touch, and yet so far, and he can't stop her, he knows that. She bends her head to destiny just the same as he, and even if he kept her here...it would bring them no joy, that trapping. She released him from her service, once -- it feels like ages ago. Now he must release her from his watch.

She is so brave. He has always known it, but he thinks it consciously now, and in any other moment he might laugh. If only either of them was a little less brave.

Her words cut to the core, just as much as her unwillingness to look at him. It is something he understands, even though it hurts. She's afraid to lose her nerve. He's doing it again -- being a thorn in her side. If he's being honest, something about that excites him...or it would, in another circumstance. But he-- he needs to do this face to face. He doesn't want his last memory to be the distance of her turned back.

I'm sorry. He doesn't say it aloud. Maybe he should, but he doesn't want to use up his words before his voice falters. Instead he moves around her so he can see her face. She may not be able to look him in the eye, but he feels he must face this clearly. Must face her with the courage he can muster.]

I want-- [His voice shakes already, but compared to their last parting, this moment is a gift. It mustn't be squandered.] ... This time, I want to say goodbye.

[multidisciplinary]

[ From the periphery of her vision, she sees him circle around to the front of her. Immediately, she yanks her head down before their eyes can meet, giving him only the crown of her head to look at. Gravity pulls the pooling tears directly into her eyes and Zelda squeezes them closed tightly.

She can't look at him—absolutely, above all else, she cannot look at him. The moment she looks into his eyes, Zelda knows she'll be done for. That emptiness she saw in his gaze months ago still haunts her, heaps guilt upon her shoulders. For as long as she's known Link, she has never seen such lifelessness in his blue eyes. Even on the verge of death, the princess has seen the spark of his relentless courage. Not to see it—not to see any hint of the man she has known and treasured all these years—left Zelda shaken to her core.

So she'll do anything to stop Link from looking like that again. Even if it means abandoning him in the middle of the night with only a letter. Even if it means commanding him with the same callousness as she did before the Calamity. Better for him to hate her than to feel nothing at all.

And yet here he is, throwing a wrench into her carefully laid plans. Stubbornly stalling her from stepping into the well and completing the task they both know no one else can fulfill.

Say goodbye? Her words come out with a choked, heart-wrenching sob: ] I can't!

[skyglider]

[Something is fracturing within his heart, little slivers splintering away, dissolving beneath the weight of devastating helplessness that threatens to drag him down. The daggers he's putting through her heart with this request, the pieces of himself that he feels breaking into pieces, knowing now that nothing will ever, ever be the same after this. They will never be the same, and neither will the world, or him, or her.

Everything, everything, everything. At least let him mourn properly.

Stubborn and willful as he is, he's loath to give up. He hesitates a moment under the gravity of her determination, knowing he's making it hurt all the more but also knowing that it will hurt no matter what. Either way it will ache like a limb lost. So he understands -- it's hard, it's painful, it's a heavy thing that he asks.

But he asks nonetheless.

His left hand reaches out until it's able to cup her cheek, his calloused thumb resting there. The plea is in the gesture, a silent request for one last look, and yet he follows up with words to ask--]

Please.

[Open your eyes.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ Another sob breaks free when she feels the touch of his hand on her cheek, hears that one little word and all of the emotion behind it. All of the resolve she's been clinging so tightly to dissolves in an instant.

Zelda seems to sag just slightly under Link's touch, her will to fight him swiftly fading. Fists slacken, shoulders droop, and clenched jaw loosens. If only she hadn't hesitated at the edge of the well. If only she had thrown her baubles and jumped in as soon as she heard him approach... But those are just half-hearted lies; deep down, she knows the truth is that she wanted him to come. She wanted to steal just a few more seconds with him before she ceases to be her, no matter how much it's going to hurt.

With heavy reluctance, Zelda opens her eyes and lifts her chin, just enough so that she's still looking upward at Link. She looks at him plaintively, her eyes are puffy and bloodshot. It's obvious that she has been crying, even before he arrived. ]

Don't try to change my mind.

[ Contrary to her command a minute ago, her tone sounds weak and pathetic, as though she's pleading as much with herself as she is with him. ]

[skyglider]

[He searches for eye contact, something to anchor him when his whole world is spinning, tilting away, as if it's all gone off-balance. As if it's all falling apart. Is that so wrong, though? If her plan works, then this is their very last moment together. Forever and always. The end]

I won't.

[The words come out as a whisper, shaky and unsteady. But he speaks the truth, evident in the clarity of his expression; he could not change her mind even if he wanted to, and he doesn't want to. He wishes desperately that none of this had to happen. That some other twist in their story might open up another option. But faced with the impossibility of that, he knows that this is her only path forward. That it must be done -- that it will be done, because he has seen it. That she cannot rest until she has done what she can. He hates it, hates it, and yet-- knows he cannot stop it.

Her eyes meet his at last, and he is overcome by the realization that he came here with no idea what to say.]

I--

[His voice sounds so small and uncertain. What can he say that could encompass everything? His thoughts, his feelings, everything he has ever wanted to say but didn't. He thought he had learned from his time with Mipha, and yet here he stands again, uselessly turning thoughts over in his mind. It is all too much.

Hesitantly, he lifts his other hand, cupping it to her cheek, fingers tangling in her hair. Each second seems to last hours, the space of a heartbeat drawn out in time, and he has never been very good at the words anyway, he has never needed them, but even this one small word, goodbye, suddenly feels too heavy and too minuscule all at once.

It's slow, the dawning realization that he will never be able to say it all. That words are not enough. Long ago, there were those who called her the heir to a throne of nothing, but they were wrong. The heart and soul of the hero, his life, his every moment, his very being -- she is the heir to all of it. Everything, everything, and it belongs to her. It has been hers since the moment light first shone upon their world, and long after all the stars die, it will still belong to her. And it's too big to describe, so he does what he always does: he uses his actions to express himself.

Hands still cupped around her cheeks, he leans forward, leans up --he forgets, sometimes, how tall she is, one of the millions of things he adores about her-- and gently presses a kiss to her lips.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ When their eyes finally meet, Zelda doesn't even try to put on a brave face for Link, to pretend that she's okay right now. She's not okay. She's scared. Deep, deep down inside of her, a tiny voice cries out that she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to die. The transformation is death, in a way—the death of Princess Zelda and the birth of a dragon. But more than anything else, selfishly, the princess just wants to go back to her quiet little life with Link.

Link... Would things have turned out differently if they hadn't become separated by the gulf of time? Zelda examined the problem of how to defeat the Demon King from every possible angle, beat her head against every metaphorical wall, but found only one way forward. If Link had been there too, hurtled back in time along with Zelda, could the two of them have found a different path? A better path?

She wants to apologize for what she's about to do. He deserves it. She's seen first-hand how badly her sacrifice hurts him, how deeply it cuts. Even though she's doing this to save him (to save everyone, but especially him), it kills her to hurt him in the process. That hollow, empty Link she reunited with months ago was only a shade of her beloved friend. Gone was the quiet confidence in his demeanor, the hint of mischief behind his straight face, the unbridled joy when he cooked a new dish. Just remembering how he looked that night, when she caught him sneaking into the treehouse home they once shared, makes her heart ache. It's that look, alongside her guilt and fragile resolve, that pushed Zelda to run away tonight, lest saying goodbye make her see him hurt all over again.

As Link starts to speak, Zelda's brows furrow slightly, a look of apprehension coming to her face. She can't guess what he'll say as his goodbye, whether he will be angry or heartbroken or emotionless and detached. A dozen possibilities queue up in her mind all at the same time, each of them the worst possible way Link could react. When he doesn't finish his thought, Zelda immediately starts thinking up a dozen apologies.

From the periphery of her vision, she sees Link lift his other hand... and place it gently upon her other cheek. Her breath hitches in her throat, all the hypothetical reactions and apologies vanishing in a puff of smoke. Big green eyes get even bigger as she stares straight into his, searching for an explanation for the gentle gesture. Although they have known each other for years now and have touched, often briefly, in the past, Zelda is becoming acutely aware, at this exact moment, that Link has never touched her like this before.

The realization causes her heartbeat to quicken, her mind to race (this time, in a completely opposite direction). The way he's cupping her cheeks in his hands, holding her gaze with that quiet intensity she knows so well... Link knows what this gesture means, doesn't he? He hasn't been in a romantic relationship before— (that Zelda knows of) (although she suspected perhaps Mipha felt that way about Link) (but either he didn't know or he didn't reciprocate) —but he must know that this is the kind of touch usually only shared between lovers. The connotation of this action—

—And then he leans in and touches his lips to hers and the cacophony of overthinking immediately falls silent.

For a second, she's frozen in place, mind wiped blank. The three baubles tumble out of a hand that has forgotten how to hold them, falling to the ground with a little -thunk, thunk, thunk-. Link —her friend, her protector, her companion, her source of strength— is kissing her? That thought clatters around in her stunned mind.

But when that momentary shock subsides, Zelda finds herself... liking this. A lot, actually, in a way that makes her heart feel all aflutter, like its full of songbirds in flight. Link... kissing her... is nice. She tilts her chin just slightly, pressing her lips to his with just enough pressure to answer the unspoken question he's asking. Bravely, fearfully, foolishly. So this is the feeling that has been welling up inside her these past few years, filling her heart so full it almost hurts but always leaving her yearning for more. The name she's given it should have made it obvious, but still, somehow, the princess is only realizing it now. She's... in love with Link. ]

[skyglider]

[What is he doing?

What is he doing?

The sudden realization that this is real, that this is an action he has actually just taken, sends a surge of lightning-like shock through his body. His heart thunders in his chest as the numbness suddenly leaves his fingertips and he realizes where they are, and the baubles are clattering to the ground, and she's standing motionless and shocked and likely raging mad at this blatant show of impropriety. They have become close, yes. But this--

He begins to spiral into the anxious thought that perhaps this one action has torn apart the relationship they have carefully built together.

It is that moment, that very instant, when he realizes that she is not pulling away. She leans into the kiss, and another burst of shock echoes through his mind. He doesn't know what to think, doesn't know what to feel, except that this moment is real and it hurts and there is no line of separation between pain and joy, between the realization that this gesture is reciprocated and the understanding of how desperately fleeting it all is.

The seconds fall through their fingers like sand.

Zelda may have a word for this feeling, but Link does not. He moves on instinct, basing his actions on the understanding that he doesn't want this to end. His movements are slow and gentle; one hand slides around the back of her neck, threading through her hair, and the other wraps around her shoulder. He doesn't move to break the kiss, instead pulling her just a little closer. Close enough to hold onto this moment for as long as he can.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ There's a certain irony to the fact that their respective reactions are the reverse of the norm—that Link's thoughts have become frantic while Zelda's have become calm. But perhaps that should be expected when the situation itself is so outside the norm for them. With no precedent for how to react to a kiss shared between them, it's no wonder that they're left out of sorts.

But for Zelda, the sense of rightness about kissing Link trumps any other thought that threatens to come into her mind—even though they stand on the brink of parting forever. She has loved him for quite some time, it seems. 'Love' is the most appropriate word for the immeasurable depth of her feelings for him. She has toyed with this descriptor before, testing the taste of it in her mind. After all, Zelda knows that she loved Urbosa dearly—and her father too, in spite of everything. But her feelings for Link don't quite feel the same as her feelings for Urbosa. They feel like... something else. Something that pricks the princess in her heart at unexpected moments with Link (and others without him). Something she has known, but whose name has eluded her ken.

Link wraps an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer and Zelda obliges with question. Without thinking about it, she lifts her hands and settles them on his chest, fingertips resting upon his clavicle. For one of the rare moments in her life, Zelda allows herself to follow instinct and nothing else. Somewhere deep within her heart, she knows precisely how to fit together with Link. It's as though they have done this before, though she knows that they haven't.

The baubles on the ground, the wishing well, draconification—all of them are completely forgotten for a moment. There's only Link—the warmth and softness of his lips, the presence of his hand cradling the back of her head. Where the first moment of their kiss was electrifying, now it feels like a burning flame. And like a moth, she's pulled into it, her kiss firm and confident against his lips. ]

[skyglider]

[It's-- ...something entirely new, this feeling, this experience. Once, long ago, he had recognized the feelings of --and for-- the Zora princess Mipha, one of his dearest childhood friends, too late to respond or reciprocate. He has a tendency to turn his back on those things, to focus on duty and action rather than feeling or emotion. It's not as though he does not feel. More accurate to say that he does not know what to do with the depths of those feelings...

His conscious mind seems to shut down, in this moment, relying on instinct. Relying on the parts of his heart that normally take a backseat. Her hands on his chest, the feel of her so close in his arms-- if he were thinking about it, it might terrify him, the connotation of those things. What they mean about him, about them, about the future. For now, he desperately does not want to think about any of it, he just wants this moment to be, unrestrained, unfettered by whatever comes next.

Love, longing, adoration, dedication, friendship, destiny-- none of it matters. For now, for this moment, they are both here, and whatever it is they are sharing, it's deeper than words. It's deeper than anything he's ever felt, conscious or not. He cannot name it, and yet right now, he knows that it is the most important thing in the world. His arms around her are as firm and as confident as her kiss. If he could hold this moment for all time, he would. If he could never let go, it would be too little of her in his arms.

He barely pauses for breath, drawn to her as she is to him. He must let go, eventually. He must let her go eventually. But, for all his strength and courage and whatever meaningless values of heroism people assign to him, he cannot seem to pull away, drawn into her orbit by the undeniable gravity of his feelings for her.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ The rare silence in Zelda's mind allows her the even rarer freedom to follow her instincts without fear for the repercussions of her actions. As Link is drawn to her, she is drawn just as strongly to him, pulled by a force greater than all the duty and sacrifice and destiny that has hung so heavily over them all their lives.

And now, that force is about to be severed forever...

Fingers that were relaxed against Link's chest now curl closed around the fabric of his shirt, gripping it with growing intensity. Why did it take them so long to reach this moment? Why did she stop herself every time her thoughts flitted in this direction—scared to entertain the notion, even just in her mind, that her feelings for Link might run so much deeper than she realized? Was it some misguided sense of propriety, that a princess ought not to love a "lowly" knight? Or was it fear—ever the constant companion of the princess throughout her adolescence—fear that, should she go out on that limb, she risked losing forever the bond that they already had?

Fear, propriety, ignorance—all of them had held her back, kept her from finding this feeling...finding it with Link. And now it's too late...

Zelda squeezes her closed eyelids more tightly, pulling on Link's shirt, even though there's barely any space left between them. She steals those last few milliseconds, her mouth pressed to his, searing the memory of this kiss into her mind. She has to let him go—she knows, she knows. Just one more second. One more tilt of the chin. One more hungry breath, snatched in a hiss, so she can have just one more taste of his lips.

Finally, finally, and all too soon, Zelda breaks their liplock, pushing out of Link's arms with white-knuckled fists shaking against his chest. ]

[skyglider]

[He has to let go.

All those long seconds drawn out in time contract all at once, and the spell that held them both here begins to disintegrate. Her hands tangled in his shirt, his desperate grasp on her shoulders. He doesn't want to. He wants to stay in this moment for all time, feeling her breath against him, her hands, her touch, her hair, her heartbeat--

He has to let her go.

He knows. He knows, as he has known from the moment he first saw her here, and even though he does not want to, the deepest parts of his heart all know that he must. For a second, just a second, he follows her as she pulls back, but of course they break apart, her hands balled into fists on his chest. Finally she has found a place where he cannot follow her. Perhaps her younger self would feel satisfaction, at that, with all her stubbornness untempered by time.

This is the moment, he realizes, and he doesn't have to see Zelda's face to know it, but he looks anyway, taking in every inch of her that he can before that inevitable final second.

Don't try to stop me, she said before, as though Link has ever been able to stop her from anything. Here, too, he knows that is a battle he would not win. He can't say it in words; instead he kneels. For a moment, he bends his head to her, the same fashion as he once did as her Knight. Then he picks up the baubles. Standing, he holds them out to put them in her hand.

One hesitant moment later,] I ... I won't give up on you.

[His voice wavers and cracks slightly with everything he's holding in, all the love and affection and longing for a different option that's difficult and painful to voice. But his expression is clear, the same fire and determination he has carried for most of his life. A promise, both to her and to himself.]

[multidisciplinary]

[ Link kneels before her and suddenly Zelda feels herself transported back in time to that clear, sunny day when she was sixteen years old and reluctantly sanctifying him as a Champion of Hyrule. How miserable she felt, extending her hand toward him and reciting meaningless words to the crown of his head. Back then, Zelda wanted nothing more than to finish the ceremony so she could escape to her room and forget about the entire wretched affair. Now, she would give anything to be back there again.

Her right hand flinches as she almost beckons him to rise—he is no longer her knight, he need not prostrate himself before her—but he stands and spares her the need. Instead, Link extends his hand and Zelda holds out hers in turn, allowing him to place the baubles in her palm. They feel so much heavier than they did before, as though they turned to lead while they were on the ground.

Zelda's eyes flick from the baubles back up to Link's face, just in time to meet his gaze as he speaks.

"I won't give up on you."

Fresh tears (how does she still have any left to cry?) well up in her eyes and she nods once in affirmation. There's that fire in his eyes, the flame that has sustained him through battle after battle, calamity after calamity, the resolution that sparked in Zelda's heart on her seventeenth birthday and has burned brightly ever since. Her lips twist into something of a smile, on the edge of a pained grimace. ]

I know.

[ There is not a shadow of doubt in her mind. No matter where (or when) she goes, Link will find her. Link will find the sword. Link will save Hyrule.

Slowly, Zelda steps up beside Link, who has been blocking her way to the wishing well. She lifts the hand holding the leadened baubles and tosses them into the well. The deep dark void of the well begins to swirl, churning like a molten midnight sky. She's going to have to jump into that...

Instead of climbing up, Zelda sits down on the edge of the well and swings her legs over the side. The void swirls far beneath her dangling legs, enough to make a person motion sick. Thank goodness the princess isn't afraid of heights.

She turns back to Link. ] I'll be waiting for you.

[ Zelda braces her hands on the edge of the well to push herself in, but hesitates. One final thought refuses to go unsaid. ]

I... I love you.

[ Tears spill down already tear-streaked cheeks as Zelda smiles, a smile with all the warmth and radiance of sunlight. ]

Goodbye, Link.

[ And then she pushes herself into the well, slipping into the churning void and vanishing from Link's life forever. ]