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His tactics had changed. That was all.
He was sitting on the bridge to Malanya’s Spring - Horse God Bridge, but he never really thought of these little bridges as having proper names, especially when he’d crossed so damn many.
He had the odd thought that he must’ve gone across more bridges than any Hylian ever had, and the concept was so stupid, so banal, it would’ve made him laugh if he hadn’t only just been crying. His tactics had changed. He wasn’t the fighter he (supposedly) had once been.
And wasn’t that little modifier just the worst part? Not that he’d once had the skills of some masterful knight, but that he might’ve once had same. His memory was still so spotty - even what little he could recall was dim, and - to his great horror - the images tended to fade like any other memory, to the point where, for example, when he called to mind Mipha’s face, it took no small effort to actually piece together something even remotely similar. He had known her spirit when he’d seen her, of course, but beyond that - well, it was just as remembering any other person’s face - the details don’t stick so much as the recognition.
But he wanted to remember the details. He wanted to remember something besides those stupid, melodramatic world’s-end conversations - soliloquies, even, all rehearsed and inspired.
He liked remembering the little things. He was making plenty of new memories now, of course, but behind that simple joy was a deep sadness because he thought he must have done such things before, with the princess and the other champions.
His tactics had changed. His priorities had changed. 100 years after the apocalypse and - yes, of course, there was trouble, but - but everyone was managing. It wasn’t as though there was no exigency; he knew his duty and his purpose, but…
But there wasn’t any of that “last days” nausea-panic that even he could feel in those scant recollections. The last days had come and gone. There was a growing unease, of course; a sort of throat-sticking feeling of “we can’t go on like this forever,” but combating that was a rugged acceptance that was… equally choking, but in a touching way rather than an anxious one. It made him appreciate everything more, he thought; it gave him a love for all of Hyrule that was strong enough and stupid enough and beautiful enough to make him do things like collect dragonflies for a stranger’s sister’s birthday, take pictures of mundane creatures for whoever asked, and sit by the Gerudo Town goddess statue talking - well, mostly listening - to Muava until the sands settled.
-
He thought he’d calmed down enough to talk to Malanya, now, so he dusted himself off and crossed the other half of the bridge. It was very pretty over here, prettier than the Fairy Fountains, in a way, though he’d never say as much to either them or the Horse God. In spite of everything, it was pretty. Not ephemeral but vivid. It certainly suited its presiding deity.
He sat again on the lip of the pool and idly dipped a finger into the water: completely lukewarm, barely distinguishable from the surrounding air. It was lovely and temperate here; he didn’t mind harsh weather - not with the proper clothing, at least - but he could still appreciate a nice day.
Malanya burst from the water with a spasmodic explosion of disembodied limbs and a whinnying cackle, but he calmed as he lowered his head to look Link in the face. “Oh, you’re upset,” he said, with his usual misuse of emphasis and cadence that well embodied his equine habits. His head-mask rattled softly with concentration. More than any other being (save perhaps Beedle), Malanya struck Link as being filled to the brim with a single-minded fascination-love that was almost more powerful than he was - or, it would seem so, if the two weren’t inherently tethered in the first place, god-force and feeling.
Link cleared his throat to explain, but the god talked first. “No need! I know why you’re here. Tell me - which dear horse’s services do you call upon once again?”
“The - the white stallion,” Link answered, quietly. He’d never really named him; he’d never felt right naming him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the white stallion wasn’t his to name.
"Ah,” Malanya sighed, lowering his head further, almost enough to be mistaken for a gesture of deference, “the descendant. He does love you.”
“Mhm.”
The Horse God shook his head a little, but visibly restrained; he was still softening his movements - what, for Link’s sake? “Now, noble horseman, don’t be bashful. Yours and this horse’s bond is a paradigm. You do know this…”
Link could only nod.
“Let me see… ah. A Guardian… such brutish things, yet powerful, and so ancient. In some other circumstance, I could have chanced a kinship there... of sorts.” He laughed, a bitter dry snort. “You took a horse to battle with a Guardian?”
Shut up, Link thought, digging his nails into his shins where his legs were crossed. He hadn’t known there would be a Guardian there. He’d just been trying to go northwest for the bird-Beast. He’d thought himself prepared to take down any minor threats along the roadway; he’d fancied himself a knight once more; damn it all; just bring the stallion back.
“I could eat you for that,” Malanya continued, but in a subdued, thoughtful tone, like it was a consideration and not a threat. “But I jest.” His nonchalance struck some nerve somewhere and Link felt a twinge of - what was that; anger?
“It was an accident,” Link snapped, suddenly finding his voice - or, it found him, forcing words up before he thought them.
The Horse God huffed a little and drummed his fingers on the edge of his beautiful pool. “Well, of course it was,” he said, matter-of-factly, and something about his placid tone was infuriating. Hadn’t Malanya threatened to eat him if he let his horses die? Or was that only if they died by his own hand? But--
His thoughts were interrupted by Malanya’s echoic whinny-bellow as he began the resurrection. It wasn’t something Link had ever seen before-- at least, he didn’t think it was. Luckily, he was too distracted to dwell on that thought; distracted by the motions of the god’s slender hands, the twitch and shake of his skull-mask, the rattle of invisible bones as he half-danced, half-seized with a mad infusion of divine power.
And then--
There he was. The stallion, looking just like the one the princess had ridden in his grey memory. Shuffling on his hooves, a little frightened - a little uncertain. Link wasn’t sure whether or not to approach him, but once the beast noticed him standing there, he walked over, and Link leaned his head against his neck with one hand threading through his mane. “Whoa,” he whispered, and the horse calmed easily under his touch.
“And there you go, ” Malanya said softly, his great head braced on his hands - propped up on incorporeal elbows on the side of his pool. “ As you see, he is happy to be back.”
Link whirled. “That’s it?”
If anything, the Horse God looked amused. “If by that you mean ‘this horse has been returned to the world of the living by my hand alone,’ then, yes; that’s it.”
“You’re not going to eat me alive like you said you would?” Link was bristling now; the white stallion had backed some paces away to avoid his anger, but none of that fury would reach the horse no matter how close it trod, nor any bystander. “Why--”
“You said it was an accident; I said it was in jest, ” Malanya said. “And so it was, and so it was.” A manic horsey giggle. “Besides - I’m tired now.” Come to think of it, he did look drained - the pool didn’t glow as brightly; his head sagged on an invisible neck. “Even if you were at fault--”
“But I was!” And Link was really fuming now, hands balled into tight fists, shoulders all stiff with rage. “Who do you think held the reins? Like you sa-- said - I took a horse to, to battle with a G-- with a Guard-- with--” His voice gave out much too quickly, and he slumped in equal parts frustration and exhaustion.
Malanya’s head lowered again, this time resting on his crossed “arms.” He nickered. “It was an accident, ” he repeated. “He was happy to serve you.”
Link couldn’t talk but he shook his head hard. No, it wasn’t an accident. Or, it was, but - it was still his fault.
“Go and be with your horse,” the god said. “I have power I need to conserve.” Unspoken, Link sensed that he was fed up with this mortal nonsense. Unspoken, Link wished the god had never made any comment in the first place. Couldn’t he just make his vengeful-god jokes and be done? Why did he have to feign concern--
There was a gentle splash as the Horse God sank back into the water, and Link trudged over to where the white stallion was now lying down and nibbling halfheartedly at whatever grass grew within easy reach.
The area around the pool must be especially comforting to horses, he thought; Malanya wouldn’t have it any other way. Link suddenly had an outrageous and fleeting desire to tame every horse in Hyrule and bring them here - but that wouldn’t be comfortable at all, not unless he did it one at a time--
“Are you happy to be back?” he asked the stallion. It was easier to talk to animals than anyone else.
The horse didn’t at all answer, only continued its delicate, nuzzling chews.
“I came straight here, you know.”
A huff of air through its nostrils; probably only a breath but it felt like the beast was laughing at him. His new sentimentality. His new tactics.
“Shut up,” Link told him. “I came straight here, for you, and I didn’t care whether Malanya ate me or not.” And that was the honest truth; he hadn’t cared. It scared him a little to think about. He would do the same for anyone in Hyrule, he thought; hell, if he didn’t catch on to their disguise he’d throw himself into the pit for a travelling member of the Yiga Clan. Had he always been so selfless? He suspected he hadn’t; at least, not in the same way. In the very little he remembered of before, he had always been withheld and competent - indomitable, even. The protective drive remained but his raw strength and skill weren’t anywhere near what he thought they once were - and yet, and yet. Here he was.
“I’m not used to a failure without punishment,” he said, speech coming clumsily again. “I’m not used to failure. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t be - upset, somehow. I don’t - why Malanya wouldn’t-- and then the wild horses-- why--”
He’d been starving every time and freezing twice out of the three times he’d killed wild horses - desperate, through and through. The very thought of it made him feel so sick it was all he could do to curl up in a ball right there in the damp grass. The stallion nickered.
“Would he even bring, would he, would-- bring you back if you-- if I-- if--?”
“It depends,” the Horse God boomed, startling Link so badly he didn’t yelp so much as whimper. The mask-head hovered inches in front of him - Link was now shivering, but the white stallion didn’t so much as falter under Malanya’s incredible stare. “Feckless adventurer. Do you think you have the final say?”
What? “The - the final s-say?”
“The HORSE!” he roar-whinnied, raising his hands to the sky. “The horse decides!” His eyes bored into Link’s face again, piercing. “And would you believe it… many of these beautiful beasts do not want to return.”
Then-- “The s-- the stallion--”
“OF COURSE HE DESIRED TO RETURN!” Malanya’s mask spun all the way around; purple fog billowed from his wrists. “DID I NOT SAY - A PARADIGM!” He whinnied again, so loud even the stallion’s ears folded a little back. “DO YOU WANT ME TO EAT YOU?!”
“I don’t know,” Link cried, curling further in on himself. “I don’t know.”
The Horse God chuffed and shook in wet-grass air. “Not every death is an apocalypse; do not pollute my pool,” he rumbled, and Link dutifully held his face; his tears.
“Ah, Hero.” Link’s surprise at such recognition gave him further pause. “I am thankful to be bound to horses,” gesturing to the white stallion with both hands; “and not Hylians. If I were… Well. None of you would ever make up your mind, would they? If I did eat you - would you want to be brought back?”
Link couldn’t even begin to decide.
“Your silence speaks for itself, Hero.” Malanya nickered softly. “It is easy to love all horses - so easy I have no patience for anyone incapable. It is difficult to love all people, Hero, and yet that is your fate.” He leaned down to stare Link in the face one final time, the mask’s soulful sockets boring into Link’s soul. “But you are so very new to loving yourself, and that is what grieves you. The stallion chose to return. Take that to heart. And any of those wild horses - Hero, they are beasts. There is nothing horses understand so well as survival.” He paused and shook his mask and mane. “And there is nothing I understand so well as horses.” After a very strange and uncharacteristic period of hesitation, the Horse God lowered its hand and stroked him on the forehead with a single fingertip.
As though he were a little horse, Link thought, and it was so uncanny and ridiculous that he choked on laughter. Malanya laughed as well, a low vibration that was more felt than heard, a sound synonymous with divinity. Then he was gone, back into his pool before Link could process his leaving, and Link and the stallion were alone.