[It's not all right, but she has to say as much, doesn't she? It'd be too cruel otherwise, to acknowledge that for all his yearnings, she would rather be passing a mindless eternity than sitting here on this couch with him right now.
She's breaking, though. He hears it even before the tears begin to once again threaten the corners of her eyes, the bitter helplessness that he knows so well but isn't accustomed to hearing in her voice. It urges him to take a deep, steeling breath and sweep his own selfish laments from his mind. Now is not the time to feel sorry for himself, not while she's here looking for strength and comfort.
He shifts, pulling the shoulder she leans upon back so he can wrap his arm around her as his other hand finds the one searching between them.]
... You believe him, then. Or at least a part of you does.
[He observes after a quiet, contemplative moment. He's unsurprised her Champion would make such a promise; Link had said as much to him that night he seemed to find his resolve. The both of them seem to think it impossible, but—call it hubris, or denial, or perhaps divine wisdom if one is feeling generous, but Sheik has to believe there is a way. And if Link can do anything, then surely, surely he'll be true to his word.
That doesn't help in the here and now, however, and his thumb runs soothing circles across her hand as he thinks.]
Perhaps... you are looking at it the wrong way. The Goddesses may not hold dominion here, but... the destiny of a Princess of Hyrule is never entirely free from their influence.
[And he would know, wouldn't he? It's a fatalistic point of view, one that denies Zelda her free will and suggests her separation from the one she loves is something that has been demanded of her by the gods. He doesn't relish in arguing it, his voice low and tired as he does, but as things are, after a month of caring for slumbering friends and wondering if the next day will be the one where they in turn disappear, he struggles to come up with a more hopeful reasoning for her repeated failure to return to enact her sacrifice.]
If it is their will that you remain here, then... maybe there is reason for it. Something that can only be done here, in this strange world so far away from anything Hyrule has ever known. [Malon would be better at this, he thinks. He squeezes Zelda's hand and pulls himself away from that thought as though it's a hot stove.] It is cold comfort, I know, but...
[Is it so implausible, that perhaps they want her to live?]
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She's breaking, though. He hears it even before the tears begin to once again threaten the corners of her eyes, the bitter helplessness that he knows so well but isn't accustomed to hearing in her voice. It urges him to take a deep, steeling breath and sweep his own selfish laments from his mind. Now is not the time to feel sorry for himself, not while she's here looking for strength and comfort.
He shifts, pulling the shoulder she leans upon back so he can wrap his arm around her as his other hand finds the one searching between them.]
... You believe him, then. Or at least a part of you does.
[He observes after a quiet, contemplative moment. He's unsurprised her Champion would make such a promise; Link had said as much to him that night he seemed to find his resolve. The both of them seem to think it impossible, but—call it hubris, or denial, or perhaps divine wisdom if one is feeling generous, but Sheik has to believe there is a way. And if Link can do anything, then surely, surely he'll be true to his word.
That doesn't help in the here and now, however, and his thumb runs soothing circles across her hand as he thinks.]
Perhaps... you are looking at it the wrong way. The Goddesses may not hold dominion here, but... the destiny of a Princess of Hyrule is never entirely free from their influence.
[And he would know, wouldn't he? It's a fatalistic point of view, one that denies Zelda her free will and suggests her separation from the one she loves is something that has been demanded of her by the gods. He doesn't relish in arguing it, his voice low and tired as he does, but as things are, after a month of caring for slumbering friends and wondering if the next day will be the one where they in turn disappear, he struggles to come up with a more hopeful reasoning for her repeated failure to return to enact her sacrifice.]
If it is their will that you remain here, then... maybe there is reason for it. Something that can only be done here, in this strange world so far away from anything Hyrule has ever known. [Malon would be better at this, he thinks. He squeezes Zelda's hand and pulls himself away from that thought as though it's a hot stove.] It is cold comfort, I know, but...
[Is it so implausible, that perhaps they want her to live?]