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In the ephemeral realm between sleeping and waking, Link slowly begins to register the feeling of soft hair brushing against his face. Instinctively, he nestles into it, breathing in that sweet, floral scent that is so unmistakably Zelda. It’s comforting enough to send him back to sleep. Or it would be, if not for the slight feeling of unease that pierces through the dense fog of slumber. Without opening his eyes, he feels around with one arm, trying to find Zelda beside him and hold her closer.
His hands grasp at empty air.
It’s like being suddenly plunged into Hebra Falls. He immediately jolts awake, his heart pounding. Frantically, he whips his head from side to side. The vast land of Hyrule stretches out into the distance but there’s no sign of Zelda, no sign of her at all. And for some reason, he’s sitting on the head of a dragon–
Oh Goddess.
The realisation creeps over him. It sinks its claws into his flesh and coils tightly around his throat. No matter how many times he has this realisation, it never becomes less heart-rending. Zelda is the Light Dragon. With her unending love for Hyrule, she gave up everything to give him a chance at defeating Ganondorf. With his unending love for Zelda, this is the closest he can get to her while still being so very far.
It hurts– a pain unlike any he’s ever experienced. He has scars all over his body from countless battles but none of those injuries were even a fraction as painful as this. And it’s not a pain that can be eased by a simple elixir. It’s always there, constantly splintering his heart, gnawing away at his soul. Even when he finally collapses from sheer exhaustion, his torment manifests as nightmares. Dreams where he searches for Zelda in a shifting labyrinth but every time he finds her, she crumbles into dust. Dreams where he fails to protect her again and again and again, waking up with a scream lodged in his throat.
Eventually, Link discovered that the only place he could get a few hours of relatively peaceful slumber is here, on top of the Light Dragon’s head. He knows it defies reason to feel safe sleeping on a dragon flying high up in the sky. But no matter the external form, even as a mindless dragon, this is still Zelda. His Zelda. And he knows without a trace of doubt that Zelda would never let him fall.
When closes his eyes and buries his face in the Light Dragon’s hair, breathing in that familiar scent, he can pretend for a while. Pretend that he’s curled up in bed with Zelda in their little house in Hateno Village, and his biggest problem is deciding what he will make for breakfast the next day. It’s comforting enough for him to drift off into a dreamless sleep.
Sometimes, in the hazy moments just after waking, he forgets that it was just pretend. For a few precious moments, it feels real. As if the Upheaval never happened, and Zelda is safe and sound by his side. Until he opens his eyes and the illusion shatters into piercing shards. It hurts every time, and yet he still comes back. If this is the closest he can currently get to Zelda, he will take it. He will take whatever he can get.
The pain crescendoes until it is too much to bear. Link's entire body is shaking. His heart is racing. His chest feels like it's being crushed beneath a Stone Talus. He has mastered keeping his composure even in the most perilous situations. But he still has times when his control slips. When it’s quieter, when there are no eyes on him and no foes to defeat. It only takes the smallest fissure for the dam to burst and everything he keeps suppressed comes out in a raging flood.
In a desperate attempt to ground himself, Link tries to take deep breaths. He runs his trembling fingers through the Light Dragons golden hair, then over one of her intricate horns. He feels the gust of wind rushing past his ears and tousling his hair. He zeroes in on specific points in the scenery. He can see Mount Lanayru standing proud in the distance and when he turns his head there is Cape Cales jutting out into the sea. And there is the cherry-blossom tree on the peak of Ebon Mountain, right beside the pond shaped like a broken heart. He can just about make out the roofs of the houses in Hateno Village and one of those belongs to him and Zelda–
Something in his heart cracks. Suddenly, he can’t contain the tears welling up in his eyes. He puts his face in his hands and lets out a heart-wrenching sob. The tears keep streaming down his face and even when he’s gasping for breath, he doesn’t try to stop them. It’s almost liberating, just letting everything out. He is the hero, the weapon against all evil. But even the most durable weapons eventually break. And the years he spent with Zelda showed him that he was more than a weapon. That he could love and be loved. That he could live as a person, choosing his own path.
So he cries for everything that was taken from him. The mornings when he woke up to Zelda’s radiant smile. The melody of her laugh. The twinkle in her eyes when she talked about her research. Her incessant fussing whenever he was injured. Her guileless delight every time he baked fruitcake. Her gentleness, her kindness, her courage. The hopes and dreams they shared. The future they could have had together.
He always had a vague feeling of guilt. As if those peaceful days were more than he deserved, as if she was more than he deserved. After all, he was a hero that was a hundred years too late. Just when he began to think that he could allow himself to be truly happy, his whole world crumbled at his feet. Perhaps it was a punishment for daring to forget that he was unworthy.
And now, it’s impossible to forget. Every time he sees the Light Dragon flying above him, he is reminded of his failure. On that fateful day beneath Hyrule Castle, he should have protected her better. He should never have let her fall. If not for his ineptitude, Zelda would never have had to make this huge and terrible sacrifice.
With tears still tumbling down his face, Link walks down the Light Dragon’s head so that he can look into her vacant eyes. He watches them dart around aimlessly, devoid of any emotion or awareness. It feels worse than being stabbed in the heart.
Hadn’t she already given up enough? Why couldn’t it have been him instead? Hyrule, in all its majesty and severity, is like an extension of his very self. He knows every part of it, all its mysteries and secrets. Every mountain, valley, river and tree is like an old friend. He loves Hyrule and the people who inhabit it more than his own life and he would do anything to protect it. But he doesn’t know how to exist in a Hyrule without Zelda– he doesn’t even know if he can.
The only thing that pushes him forwards is knowing that Zelda put all her faith in him to see this through. So he keeps going, trying to hold together the pieces of his fractured heart. For her and for this beautiful land that they both cherish so dearly. He keeps going, clinging onto the hope that his beloved Zelda is still in there somewhere.
Link kneels down and presses a soft kiss on the fur in between the Light Dragon’s eyes. He opens his mouth but no words come out, and he realises he can’t remember the last time he actually spoke in the past few months.
He tries again and this time the unfamiliar sound of his voice rings out between them, “I’m so sorry, Zelda. I’m so, so sorry–” A sob breaks free, cutting him off.
He takes a few deep breaths and wipes his face with his sleeve before managing to get out, “I’m going to fix this. I promise. I will do whatever it takes.”
“Zelda.” He says her name like a prayer, “Zelda. I love you. So very much."
He continues in a broken whisper, "I should have told you how much I love you when I had the chance. I should have told you every second of every day."
Perhaps it’s just his imagination, but for a mere instant, it almost feels like her hollow eyes have a spark of life.