Work Text:
Being a fugitive in one’s own kingdom had some major drawbacks. Not that there was much she could do about it at the moment, but Zelda allowed herself one moment of self-pity as she summoned an old bed underneath the cover of a small tree. The villages were swarming with guards. This would be where she slept for the night. She missed her own bed, with a duvet and a warm purring cat.
“I’ll keep watch,” said Tri. “I don’t need to sleep. You need to be well-rested to navigate the Still World.” Tri’s logical approach, though on the surface void of compassion, was quickly growing on Zelda. Their sound, logistical certainty about things was grounding. She was grateful for the fairy’s presence in such a terrible and turbulent time.
She collapsed onto the rickety bed with a sigh. The mattress was more uncomfortable than she was used to and there was no blanket. She would have to inquire, when she arrived in Gerudo Town the next day, if they had any more comfortable beds to spare. To stave off the night’s chill, she had taken to unclasping the mysterious hero’s cloak from around her neck and laying it on top of herself as a makeshift quilt.
A musty scent still clung to it, as though it had been kept in a closet for some time. But there were other things she noticed as well. The edge was frayed on one corner, as if it had been rubbed to death by anxious fingers. There was a small dark stain on the hood (perhaps ink, or oil) and within the inner lining of the cloak, she had discovered days ago a secret pocket sewn into the lining. She at first had not wanted to intrude on Link’s privacy, but Tri had then helpfully reminded her that they had already snooped on Luberry’s diary when he wasn’t looking, and the contents inside the cloak might contain a hint pointing to its owner’s whereabouts—or their enemy’s. So she had snooped.
What Link carried with him turned out to be one letter from Seesyde Village thanking him for rescuing a very lost husband from a band of Moblins, one very worn and annotated map of Hyrule (Zelda could not discern much from his chicken-scratch handwriting, but it was evident that he had been marking rift openings) and finally, one half-completed stamp card that made Zelda’s mouth quirk upwards.
The documents were light and flat against the cloak lining, it was easy to forget that they were tucked away while she was closing rifts and exploring Hyrule. But in quiet moments like this, she became aware of their slight weight and shape inside of the hidden pocket.
“Tri?” Zelda said into the night air. The fairy had started drifting absently in a circle around her, but paused to turn to her at the sound of her voice. “Do you think Link is all right?”
“Link?” Tri bobbed in the air. “Why?”
Zelda brought the cloak hood up to her chin. Maybe she was making it all up in her mind, but the look in his eyes when he had sank into the rift…that steel-eyed acceptance had stayed with her. That was courage. She had sensed it before but now that she had learned about his past from Lueberry and Suthorn Village, she couldn’t believe that at that moment, he hadn’t panicked. He hadn’t even tried to run.
“I care about him,” she finally answered. Tri’s little body tilted curiously.
“Why?” They asked again. “Because he could be the hero?” Asked by anyone else, the question would have been deemed rude, but Zelda was happy to explain it. Tri was not rude, they just wanted to understand.
Zelda shook her head. “No, Tri. Because he’s a person.”
Tri considered this for a long moment. Zelda let them think, turning her eyes to the stars that peeked through the tree foliage above her. When she and Tri had fixed their first rift together, all of Tri’s friends had looked like those stars in the night sky. Tiny glowing pinpricks in a dark, still void.
“I’m still confused,” Tri decided. “You do not know him. But you act as worried for his fate as you do your own father’s.”
Zelda rolled to her side, curling her knees to her chest and pressing her nose into the cloak fabric. It wasn’t a bad smell. It was sort of like the castle library, reminiscent of the smell of an old book that hadn’t been opened in years. Zelda loved that smell. The library was probably lost in the Still World now, jagged frozen pieces of what it should’ve been. Every person she came across who was frozen in shock or terror chilled her to the bone. She hated knowing that her father and the general were still among them. But at least they had no idea what would await them on the other side. If Zelda had only been faster and stronger, perhaps she could have broken the crystal that imprisoned her. Then she and Link could have escaped together, instead of just her scrambling to pick up all that was left of him.
“Of course,” she said softly, thumbing at the frayed edge of the cloak. “It isn’t fair that Link had to go back there just to save me. Not after he escaped once already.”
She had heard about what happened to children who were stolen away by the Still World. They weren’t the same person. Something key to the core of who they were was robbed from them forever. Link had already lost the power to speak. What would be taken from him next? Why didn’t she have the same punishments as everyone else? What made her so special? It wasn’t fair that she could run around the Still World with no consequence, but others—Link among them—were eternally changed.
“Oh,” Tri said. “I see. You feel like his suffering might be your fault.”
If the Link she had faced in the Suthorn Ruins really was an echo like she thought, then how did that happen? Zelda had to defeat and kill the monsters she made echoes of. She could only pray to the Goddesses that Link didn’t follow those same rules. But how else would that echo have gotten ahold of his sword? He was either dead, or weaponless, or both.
When Zelda didn’t answer them, Tri chimed more insistently and floated closer. Their soft light warmed her face like a miniature heat lamp. “Zelda, if he was able to defeat that blue monster, he must be very strong. And Link seemed to know what the risks were. He will hold on.”
Zelda uncurled enough to place both of her hands on Tri’s sides and pull them into a gentle hug. When they made no noise of protest, she squeezed them and brought them closer into her chest.
“You think so?” she breathed.
“I know so,” Tri said back. Their tiny body fit perfectly into her chest, and their voice vibrated against her skin in a soothing way. “And like everyone else, he’ll be returned to normal as soon as we repair all the rifts. Maybe it’s time to rest so you can focus on doing that tomorrow.”
Zelda let Tri go, rooting herself in the logical flow of their reasoning. “You’re right.”
“Rest,” Tri urged, returning to their meandering loop around her bed. “I’ll watch over you.”
She watched Tri patrol for a while, counting their loops until she started to feel drowsy. When she started blinking, Tri started to hum a familiar lullaby.
She smiled drowsily. If Tri wasn’t here, she was sure she would have spiraled into despair as soon as her father’s stand-in had sentenced her to death. But their presence still lended her a tiny, glowing pinprick of hope. In the darkest of times, Tri kept showing her that there was light. “Tri, you’re a good fairy.”
Tri bobbed in the air. “And you’re a good person, Zelda. Sweet dreams.”
Comforted, Zelda finally closed her eyes and fell into a still, exhausted sleep.