songerein | log 🌻 the one left behind

Entry tags:

log 🌻 the one left behind

Who: Zelda and others
Which: Log with open and closed prompts in the comments
Where: Around Reverein- Wild Harvest, Archives, and Wishing Well
What: Zelda wakes from her sleep coma and is big sad about her bf being gone
Warnings: Usual TOTK spoilers, possible themes of self-sacrifice

[ Zelda wakes slowly, opening her eyes to sunlight filtering through the window, playing on the rafters crisscrossing above her head and illuminating a few dust motes drifting in the air. The ceiling of her bedroom in Songerein.

She lets out a slow, defeated sigh and closes her eyes again.

She failed again.

The day Zelda woke to discover Link gone, she laid down in her bed and willed herself to go back to sleep. His departure did not come as a surprise, but that did not make it any easier to bear. He had told her that he would soon return to Hyrule, as if he knew-- no, not just knew, decided to go, as if that conviction was all he needed to break free from the shackles the dream world placed on its residents. It was time for him to return, he said. He was going to bring her home too. Nevermind the permanence of the draconification transformation. Nevermind the obstacle of the Demon King, looming insurmountable over Hyrule. He was going to overcome it all.

He was going to bring her home.

If Link could escape Songerein simply through sleep and conviction, then surely Zelda could as well. Why stay, when staying meant being without him? She only agreed to set duty aside and live for as long as the two of them were together. Link was gone; time for Zelda to fulfill her duty and become the Light Dragon.

And she partially succeeded; the princess managed to slip into a sleep coma of her own volition, where she spent the entirety of a month. But of course, escape still eluded her. Three times, Zelda has tried to wake of her own volition. Once by trying to swallow her secret stone and force the draconification transformation. Once by throwing enough baubles into the wishing well to grant her passage back to Hyrule. And now, by forcing herself to sleep. All three times, Zelda has failed.

Really, she should not be surprised. Leave it to Link to succeed in something like this the moment he puts his mind to it, and for Zelda to struggle and fail repeatedly. Such has always been the way for the two of them, hasn't it?

Zelda continues to lay in bed for awhile, wondering if she should try again, until the bedsores all over her body become too much for her to bear. No, she needs to get up. She needs to do something. If she doesn't find some way to occupy her mind, her thoughts will drift to Link... and whenever they do, it feels like scalding knives driving into her chest.

The pain of being the one left behind. ]

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[Loathe though he is to extricate himself from her - she's warm, and responsive, a marvel on it's own after watching her and the Hero of Time sleep silent and still for so long - he does so in order to lift the edge of his hastily thrown on tabard to her cheek, dabbing at the corner of her eye with the Champion's blue she bestowed upon him.]

I said you may remain here as long as you wish. [In contrast to her smile, his lips, uncovered for once in his hurry to check the door, purse into a thin line, adamant as he repeats himself.] I did not speak falsely. I have no need or desire for you to hurry yourself on your way out of consideration for me.

[Ask him a year ago if he thought he'd ever allow this to come to pass, and he would have asked the questioner in turn if they were truly all right in the head. He was too fearful, too defensive to allow anyone to so much as know where he might put his head down for the night, let alone share a living space for a prolonged period of time. But he's become used to being around people during his time in Songerein (and being around Zelda in particular), and... to be alone in his own grief now, even if he is able to mask the fact that he is grieving at all, would be torturous.

Has been torturous.

They had gotten off on the wrong foot, and their relationship was... strange, at once too familiar and too distant at the same time, but Sheik had valued the Hylian Champion's company nonetheless. To say nothing of the ranch girl whose sunny smile he will see perhaps but once more as her strange, wild animal-esque friend, neither of them remembering their dance amongst the flowers or sleigh-riding through the snowy night. Perhaps tending to the Princess' aching heart might aid in mending his own. He has to hope so, anyway.

His arm shifts around her shoulders so he can continue to keep her close as he leads her inside. His house, such that it is, is quite small, seeming to be barely more than two or three rooms. But he does have a couch at least in the main living area, which he leads her to, though Zelda's not wrong to assume she already has dibs on the bed tucked away in the loft up above. Guiding her to sit, his hand lingers on her shoulder, a steadying weight in either direction as he asks:]

Have you had anything to eat recently? To drink?

[Did you throw yourself into your work so you wouldn't have to think? It's what he would have done. ... It's what he did.]

[ Zelda leans into Sheik's touch as he dries her eyes. His words, not to mention his tight expression, tell her plainly that he'll brook no argument against his hospitality, so she lets the matter drop. (She's glad for his insistence, in truth.)

She allows him to guide her into his house and steer her to the sofa. It's a comfortable little place, his home. At least, it is to Zelda. Although it's smaller than her treehouse, purely by virtue of not being overcrowded with plants, it feels more spacious.

That question gets a guilty look from Zelda. Sheik probably already knew the answer before he asked it. But still, she shakes her head all the same. ]

Tea and biscuits with Alastor this afternoon, but nothing since then. I've not had much appetite today.

[It is the answer he expects, yes, but he did not predict the sting that would come with the details. His fingers twitch against her shoulder.]

That long...

[The words taste bitter upon his tongue. She's been awake that long, and he had no idea? But he smothers the icy feeling settling in his gut with that knowledge before it can grow to a point it where it must be examined and named. No, what right does he have to be so selfish? How he feels is hardly important, not with what she's going through.]

I'll prepare something light, but I must insist you have at least a little.

[Fortunately, he doesn't need to even leave her line of sight to do so; the "main room" of his house serves the purpose of kitchen, dining room, and bedroom all at once. Just beyond the sofa, he digs through his pantry where he produces a couple of apples as well as some crackers and cheese, cutting a rather odd figure as he takes a knife to cut the fruit and cheese into smaller, more palatable bites. Domesticity hardly suits him, but the weight of the things they are leaving unsaid makes silence unbearable, and so he breaks it, somewhat falteringly, as he starts setting apple slices out on a plate.]

... I did what I could for your greenhouse— [while you were asleep] —in the interim. We can begin moving the plants over in the morning, if you'd like.

[Where will they all go? Who knows! He'll figure all this out later! It's fine!]

[ That guilty feeling worsens, because they both know what that admission confirms: she's been avoiding Sheik all day.

And having it out in the open like this makes Zelda feel all the worse. First she tries to leave Songerein without so much as a goodbye, then she purposefully avoids meeting Sheik after she wakes, and now she has the audacity to impose herself on his home in the middle of the night. She feels selfish...

Because she is being selfish-- has been, ever since Link woke from his month of slumber and told her he would be returning to Hyrule. She didn't get nearly enough time with him. What was it, a few short months? Six at best? With an entire lifetime to lose, how can six months of loving him ever be enough?

It isn't. And the loss of him, even before he managed to free himself from the bindings of the dream world, has consumed Zelda ever since.

She feels wretched. Selfish. Guilty. All feelings that were easier to avoid during the daylight; somehow, nighttime makes them stronger.

It's Sheik's voice, unexpected, that pulls Zelda from the mire of her miserable thoughts. So unexpected that she has to run back his words to comprehend them. ] My plants?

[ Now that he mentions it, she did notice that the plants in her greenhouse all seemed to be healthy and happy. She hadn't really paid close attention when she went into the greenhouse this morning to water them-- it was habitual, her body going through her usual routine while her mind was anywhere else.

He cared for her plants while she was asleep? Even the plants inside her treehouse were well cared for, trimmed and watered as necessary. (Likely, Sheik got a bit of guidance on how to care for the indoor plants, if he did not feel comfortable letting Aerith inside the house.) ]

You want to bring them here?

[ But this is his home, and she's already imposing so much... ]

[He smiles, a little, a weak and lopsided thing. His features look softer for it, the angles of his face seeming more delicate somehow in the dim light of his home in the middle of the night.]

Of course I do.

[There's no hesitation in his answer; he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. But she will want more explanation than that, he knows, so he continues as he arranges crackers and cheese upon a plate.]

They are important to you, are they not? You've poured so much of your time and energy into nurturing them, and they've responded in kind by growing and blooming so beautifully. It would be a shame for all that effort to go to waste.

[Albeit the suggestion is not made because he's that worried about the plants and their well being in and of themselves. He does think it would be a shame if they were left to wither on their own, but it's really their effect on Zelda that he's most concerned with. Surely caring for them would serve as a distraction from her grief, and perhaps their presence might aid in reminding her that there are those that need her here, in Songerein, too.

(Since his own doesn't seem to be sufficient in that regard, he thinks, and hates himself all the more for it.)

The food preparations do not take long, and he sets the plate down on the table in front of Zelda before taking a seat on the couch next to her. He does not blatantly impose himself in her space, but the fact that he sits close enough for her to comfortably lean on him should she so choose is an invitation in its own right.]

... Though I fear I did have to enlist the assistance of one with more expertise in such matters. [Aerith would probably tease him for talking about her like that, which just serves to make him feel even more bashful about admitting it.] I... did not wish to accidentally ruin your hard work with my ignorance.

[He definitely did not allow Aerith in the house, not that it makes him feel much better about the breach of privacy. But, as much as he has learned about gardening and plant care helping Zelda every now and then, he's certain he would not have been able to give them all the proper kind of care without guidance. If Zelda's upset with him for it, that's fine; it's surely better than her waking up to find all the things she nurtured dying or dead.]

[ Zelda wasn't hungry when she arrived, but as soon as Sheik sets the plate on the table, her stomach reminds her of how long it's been since her last tiny meal. She leans forward to select a slice of apple while he sits down beside her. There's a brief moment where the princess pauses with apple in hand... then shifts on the sofa so that she's a bit closer to Sheik, just enough to brush up against him.

She nibbles her apple as she listens to him. (Is it just because she's so hungry, or is this actually the sweetest apple she's ever tasted? The princess's affinity for apples has increased quite a bit lately.) ]

A friend of yours?

[ Zelda surmises, based on nothing but the fact that she knows Sheik tends to be the solitary sort. He seems to be close with the Link of his era and he has made mention of a young woman from his world (and she would have to be a friend, because Sheik wouldn't let just anyone dress him up like a doll for the Flower Festival). ]

... She would likely describe us as such, yes.

[This would sound callous coming from most people, but Zelda knows how reserved Sheik can be. He could probably get married and still call his partner "someone he is acquainted with."

He's satisfied seeing her eat (and briefly remembers the weight of a tiny pearlescent dragon on his wrist before shaking the thought away), and, feeling her brush against him, he leans into her in kind, two sides of a triangle coming to a point where his head rests gently atop her own.]

She's... a kind person. Energetic and sociable. I was... struggling, once, and she aided me through it.

[He fidgets idly with his fingers, for once bare of the tape and wraps that usually cover them. The mirror world isn't something he talks about much, but he was certainly strung out and exhausted when it was resolved. And... it's easier to think about than the things they are avoiding.]

I made certain she was never there without me also being present, but... I would not have asked it of her if I did not... trust her, at least in that respect.

[How strange this all is, for the man who once looked at Zelda with such deep fear in his eyes when she had simply grabbed his wrist, to sit here with her so close now as he speaks of trusting another. It would never have happened without her—without her effect on him, that much is sure.]

[ It's reassuring when Sheik leans in against her, not just because his weight against her is grounding, but because it is amicable. The princess has done wrong by him, but still he welcomes her into his home, brings her food, and does not withdraw when she sits close. In spite of everything, he's still willing to share a comfortable closeness with her. That alone does much to ease Zelda's disquiet.

She listens as he speaks, picking bites from the plate here and there. Indeed, she knows how to interpret what Sheik says, to read between the lines and see the things he doesn't say. He is wary of naming anyone friend, but Zelda suspects an "energetic and sociable" woman would freely use such a word. And that Sheik trusts this woman (no matter how he qualifies that trust) speaks the loudest of all. She must be quite the person to have had such an impact on Sheik.

Funny how much he's changed since they met. ]

She sounds lovely. I hope you will introduce me to her someday. I would like to thank her for all her hard work.

[ Zelda shifts, lifting her legs and folding them underneath her, allowing her to lean more comfortably against Sheik. ]

And you as well. Thank you for caring for my plants, Sheik.

[ And for so many other things as well. ]

[He knows her gratitude is genuine. He does. Zelda is not like him, after all. She doesn't obscure her intents when she speaks; she doesn't say things she does not mean. She truly is thankful that he cared for her plants.

And it feels awful.

That's all he could do. Hearing it from her lips reminds him of how minuscule the task was in the grand scheme of things. He couldn't bring Link back. He couldn't repair the sacred blade or reconnect her with her proper time and place. He couldn't even make her want to see him until she had nowhere else to go.

He cared for her plants. That's all.]

... It was nothing.

[Sheik answers, perhaps with a bit too much gravity for one simply brushing off undue gratitude. In his lap, the fingers of his left hand drift to the back of his right, idly tracing out some unseen shape. He remains a steady presence for her to recline against, but his body feels... heavier against hers, somehow.]

I... wish there was more I could have done. More I could do.

[The words come out soft and low, barely more than a breath. If he was wearing his cowl, if she were not leaning against him, she might not have even been able to hear them. But she can, and he knows she can, and he winces at his own lapse of control. An apology would usually be quick to follow, to repent for bringing the mood down with his selfishness, but... he can only summon the energy to sigh. It wouldn't ring true, anyway, not with how deeply those feelings run. He can only hope it's enough to not draw even more attention to them.]

[ Zelda knows the precise way Sheik usually brushes off a compliment and although the words are the same, his tone is all wrong. It makes the food in her mouth taste like sand when she hears it.

She forces herself to swallow, but it goes down like a hard lump in her throat. ]

It... It is all right, truly.

[ Those words feel like such a cop out, because they both know it isn't all right. Nothing is all right. If it was, Zelda wouldn't have tried to return to Hyrule and make her ultimate sacrifice. If it was, she wouldn't have hesitated all day to call on Sheik.

Zelda places one hand against the sofa in the space between their bodies, searching for Sheik's hand to take. She doesn't feel like she deserves it, but she wants it all the same. ]

Link... [ She sighs. ] There is nothing you, or I, or anyone could have done to keep him here. He said he needed to return to Hyrule, so he did, simple as that.

[ A mirthless laugh. Link always made everything look so easy, even breaking free from the prison of the dream world. When he sets his mind to it, not even the gods can stop him. ]

Before he left, he promised me that he would bring me home. [ Zelda knows she doesn't need to elaborate. Sheik will understand that the promise Link made was to find a way to turn the Light Dragon back into Zelda. ] And I just... When I found him gone, I wanted so badly to go home to meet him there.

But I couldn't. Link can do anything, but I... [ She sniffles, holding back tears forming in her eyes again. ] I can't.

[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?]

[ She curls into Sheik as he puts his arm around her, fitting herself neatly against his side.

'You believe him, then.' ... Yes, she nods wordlessly against him, yes, she believes Link. At the deepest part of her, past any guilt and grief and longing, past any trepidation and anxiety born by a logical mind that knows what he promises to goes against all proof and precedent-- she believes him. Link can do anything.

Which doesn't make the bitter pill of his absence that much easier to swallow. Zelda is choking it down as best she can-- because what other choice does she have?

She listens to Sheik as he continues, attention held in the present by the texture of his calloused thumb over her hand.

He's right, a Princess of Hyrule's destiny has never been her own. Whether by the edicts of the gods or the demands of her station, her fate has been decided since the day she was born. Sheik would know all about that, wouldn't he? Doubtless, the princess he serves is tethered all the same. ]

[ But then he hits on something... unexpected. Something... that makes it all click.

A reason she is still here.

Suddenly, it's not just Sheik's words, but Rauru's in her mind, "Zelda... I believe there is a reason you were sent to us. It has to mean something."

Something that can only be done here. ]

Something only I can do...

[ Her own words echo in her memories and on her tongue all at once, her tone equal parts wondering and galvanized. ]

[Oh. Something... resonated there. Curled against him as she is, Sheik can feel the tension in her body shift as her voice goes somewhere very distant, to a memory of some other time and place far away from here. Of all the reactions she could have had to his attempt at comfort, it's certainly preferable to most, but that doesn't mean he knows why, exactly, his words have left her so awed. It's not as though they were very optimistic.

He leans forward slightly to better see her face, questions writ upon his own.]

... Princess?

[There's a lot going on in that head of yours, please share with the class.]

[ Up until this point, Zelda has looked tired and despondent, but when Sheik looks down at her now, he'll see a familiar light in her eyes-- one that is usually present, but has been conspicuously absent tonight. ]

You're right... I've been looking at this all wrong.

[ She moves to sit up, causing Sheik's arm to slip from her shoulders and down her back. When she looks at him, he'll be able to see the gears turning in her mind as she sorts things out in real time. ]

There must be a reason I am still here.

[His surprise persists as he watches her pull herself up, but it is not unpleasant. On the contrary, from the depths of his own grief, seeing the light return to her eyes feels like nothing short of a small miracle. Given the words that inspired it, perhaps he should be more concerned about the possibility of her throwing herself into some other impossibly cruel fate, but... for this moment, he can be satisfied that she's willing to move forward.

He nods, a weak smile tugging at his lips.]

I see. I... am glad to know there is some insight to be found in my counsel, still. That expression befits you far more than despair.

[He's still... useful to someone, in some small way.]

Of course, you will have my assistance in seeking that reason, whatever it might be, but it will be your strength that matters most when you find it.

[As she's not seeking his support quite so much, he'll free a hand to nudge her snack plate a little closer. Please eat, Princess, it's been a long month...]

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log 🌻 the one left behind

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