Chapter Text
Zelda couldn’t tell how long she’d been asleep. It had been light out when she laid down and it was light now, the sun shining bright behind her eyelids. Whatever time had lapsed since she collapsed against the soft mattress of her own bed, twenty minutes or twenty hours, she wanted to turn her face away from it. She wanted to bury deep into the dark of her pillow, far away from stilled worlds and monstrous shadows with claws and the horrible look in Link’s eyes when he realized he was beyond saving.
And then the sun made a noise.
Not the sun—Tri. They must be hovering over her head. Their light had been a comfort in the wilds of Hyrule, but she didn’t need it now. She was home, with a solid roof over her head instead of an open sky and tree branches. Her father was back on the throne and working to undo the damaging untruths the imposters had spread about her.
She was about to grab fistfuls of her comforter and pull it over her head when a familiar voice spoke softly somewhere beside her.
“Master Tri.” Impa. Zelda released a breath, but kept her eyes closed, rendered still by surprise and relief. “I find it interesting that I can see you now, where I was not able to before.”
They had found Impa petrified in the dungeons while navigating the castle still world. She’d been detained and imprisoned shortly after helping Zelda flee, her experiences documented in the small journal in her cell. Impa had recorded the rumors passed between the guards, most notably the talk of rifts being mended across Hyrule. She’d assumed it was Zelda’s doing.
Her beloved nursemaid; the woman who fit her in pretty dresses and tutored her on royal etiquette and chided her when her manners were lacking. She believed Zelda was the source of the extraordinary news. There had been no note of surprise, no question if she was capable—only a persistent worry for her safety. Just like whenever Lueberry spoke for Link.
Part of her wanted to leap up and throw her arms around the Sheikah for her confidence in Zelda, but a weight sat heavy on her chest and held her to the bed. The aftermath of everything that had occurred was waiting for her on the other side of her eyelids. An unexpected journey soured in the end by failure. A childish bet she’d won and lost, with debts she failed to repay. Words in her shadow. She didn’t feel ready to face any of it. Didn’t want to, not yet.
“So now that I can see you,” Impa continued speaking to Tri, oblivious to Zelda’s wakeful state, “I can say this to your face: thank you for everything.”
Tri let out a curious note. “I’ve been wondering for a while…What does ‘thank you’ mean? Everyone keeps saying it to Zelda.”
She almost laughed and blew her cover. Of course they responded to gratitude with a question. The two of them had covered quite a bit in their short time together: anger, fugitive, scared, denial…but someone else would be fielding all of Tri’s questions soon enough.
She couldn’t put her finger on how that made her feel.
“Oh! Well, it’s an expression of gratitude,” Impa said, amusement brightening her tone. Not an ounce of irritation; endless patience where Zelda had next to none. Yes, it would be a good thing for Tri to learn from someone else. No matter how she felt about it.
“I’ve been both happy and relieved that you have aided the princess,” Impa explained further. “So to express that feeling of gratitude, I say ‘thank you’.”
A brief silence followed which meant Tri was probably absorbing the information. Zelda’s cat, Louise, was purring somewhere close by. Probably in her favorite spot where the sun kissed the floor through her window most afternoons.
Maybe she could will herself back to sleep while they were speaking? She spread her hands out against the silk of her sheets and tried to concentrate on the feel of it beneath her fingers. A callous on her thumb that hadn’t been there before quickly snagged the fabric.
“Hm. I’m only helping Zelda so that I can get rid of the rifts,” Tri said finally. Zelda’s world abruptly slanted a little underneath her even as Tri added, “But I’m glad you’re happy.”
It stung, but it was true. Tri was only doing their job, paired with Zelda because she was available at the time and nothing more. They needed to make sure whatever stealing away their friends was stopped. Tri would have their pick of any soldier in her father’s army. Warriors braver and far more skilled than she would ever be. They would find that shadow monster and handle it quickly. Save Link.
And she was holding it all up pretending to sleep.
Zelda opened her eyes.
Impa smiled at her warmly. “Already waking up, then, Princess?”
She pushed herself up onto her elbows as Impa hobbled the rest of the way over and sat on the edge of the bed.
“You appear well, I’m glad to see it.” She patted Zelda’s foot through her comforter. “Tri told us everything. About how you faced extreme evil, putting yourself in peril. All to save us—to save your kingdom.”
Zelda snapped her eyes to Tri. They bobbed up and down gently, their music like the ripple of a wind chime. A fifth triangle Zelda hadn’t realized they’d gained caught the sunlight and flashed bright.
“It was just a few rifts…it wasn’t…” Zelda mumbled, shaking her head.
“You pushed yourself, Princess, but you are safe now,” Impa insisted.
Safe. She closed her eyes and let the word wrap around her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the feeling out in the world. Jewels and gold and precious silks—this was the real luxury. One she’d never fully appreciated until it was stripped away from her.
Skies, and she’d made a mockery of it, searching for hidden passages and secret rooms and purposely testing limits while people beyond the walls of her fortress lived in fear a rift might open up under their feet and swallow them whole.
They’d had Link to ease their worries for a time, maybe not a feeling of safety but at least a glimpse of it. He was able to sense when the ground was about to blacken with a hungry void and rushed to save as many people as he could from being stolen away, from Suthorn to the desert.
And how he was gone because of her. All because she had needed saving and been incapable of returning the favor. She didn’t deserve to feel safe. Not when he was…
Zelda lunged across the bed and threw her arms around Impa’s shoulders. The Sheikah let out a gasp that quickly dissolved into laughter, her hands patting Zelda’s back affectionately. Thankfully, it was easy for anyone to assume she’d been swept up in emotion over the words spoken, not the boy they made her think of.
When she finally pulled back, Impa took her face in her weathered hands.“I think about how small you once were...And I look at you now.” Her eyes shimmered again similar to Lueberry’s. “Oh, how you have grown.”
“Impa…” Zelda whispered. It was the Sheikh's job to raise her, to train her to be a suitable and refined leader. She didn’t have to love Zelda like this and yet, she did. Another luxury unappreciated for far too long. Never again.
“Ah, there I go, getting myself all worked up again.” Impa released Zelda’s face and waved her hand between them. “I am so very overjoyed to see you again, Princess.”
“I’m really glad to see you, too, Impa. Thank you for helping me escape and for giving me the…” her voice trailed off as she glanced down at herself and blinked. Her travel robes were gone, replaced with an elegant nightgown. Her favorite one. Pink silk. She didn’t even remember changing when she’d stumbled into her room.
“…disguise,” she finished slowly. It fit the same, but felt different against her body. The material was too thin. Delicate. Better suited for wiping her nose than keeping her warm at night in the—
No. No. It was fine for her room. Perfect.
“Well, my apologies for disturbing you so soon after waking, but I bring a message from the king,” Impa admitted. At the mention of her father, Zelda straightened, her eyes fixing back on the Sheikah. Here it was. The aftermath. “He requests that you come to the throne room once you are fully rested.”
Impa rose to her feet slowly and took a long look around Zelda’s room. Zelda’s eyes followed hers. She’d guessed right, Louise was fast asleep in a square patch of sun on the rug. Her mother’s portrait gazed down upon them from the wall to her left. She absentmindedly touched the spot on her forehead where the diadem usually sat. It waited for her on the dresser directly below the portrait. Her stuffed horse watched her front atop another, taller dresser. The houseplant was—remarkably—still alive. A vibrant green like its twin in Link’s house. Low maintenance apparently included being stolen away by a rift.
She frowned slightly. An ordinary room that revealed nothing of what she’d gone through. What she’d done, for better or for worse. If she was going to step back, shouldn’t something remain, if only as a reminder of the things she wanted to keep? The expanded knowledge of her kingdom and its people, all the miles she’d walked, the memory of the magic she’d channeled?
“I will go on ahead. We’ll be waiting for you,” Impa said from beside her. Zelda nodded, but her eyes were still busy taking in the room. Searching.
Finally, she spotted the Tri Rod and the Sword of Might leaning against the wall. The blade was dark. If she held it, no blue flame would ignite. She couldn’t check on him, wouldn’t know if the magic still worked until she found more—
Wrong. She wouldn’t be finding more of anything. Someone else would get the sword and the wand and everything else she’d gathered. Would the blue flame magic work even for someone else?
Selfishly…
She shook the ugly thoughts from her head and quickly rose to her feet to escape them. It had to work. She wanted it to, if only to learn he was alive. Her feet guided her over to her mother’s diadem and she retrieved it, hoping the feel of it against her skin might center her like it often did.
In the mirror, she carefully placed it around her head and pushed her shoulders back to take herself in. Not much in her appearance had changed, save for a few bumps and bruises that would heal and fade. And yet, in delicate silk, in the comfort of her safe room, she barely recognized herself.
It’s temporary, she told herself, gathering her hair up behind her head and then letting it drop. Just a temporary side effect of unanticipated adventure.
She moved to her wardrobe and eyed her dresses. Nothing looked appealing. Appropriate. She turned on her heel to ask Impa what she thought, but the Sheikah was already gone from the room. Only Tri was looking at her and she was pretty sure she’d have better luck asking Louise what she thought.
How did one dress for a mission briefing? Whenever she’d been a part of the audience for returning soldiers, they’d always just kept their armor on when they knelt before her father. It would be smart to draw from what she knew. Clever. And no one could deny she hadn’t been that.
Wisdom’s daughter.
Her travel robes were still draped over her desk chair where she’d left them, Link’s cloak hanging on a nearby hook.
When she stood before the mirror and examined herself for the second time after changing back into the disguise that had served her well, she couldn’t help but notice her beloved bed in the reflection behind her.
It was unmade.