[WARNING:  Contains Twilight Princess spoilers!]




All I ever wanted out of life was to lead a simple yet happy one.  I wanted a life where I could enjoy the comforts of home in a small cottage in Ordon Village.  I had always dreamt of a husband that cared for and loved me unconditionally and the joy of raising children in the traditions that my father had taught me.  It was a quaint dream but one that would have been full of compassion and peace.  For a moment, I thought all was within my grasp; I thought that my dreams were within reach.  How did things go so horribly wrong?

~*~*~*~*~*~

All I ever wanted out of life was to selflessly serve my kingdom with honour and dignity.  During the early years of my reign, my people had repeatedly invited me to share their humbler joys—of family and companionship—with me, and through them I experienced a joy all my own, filling myself with their happiness.  Truly, I never had felt the need to personally partake in those experiences firsthand.  For a moment, I had believed that it would have been enough to do so, that my life was indeed made rich through them.  Why then does my life now seem to be falling apart?

I.

You couldn’t have imagined how excited I was to finally see Ordon again after so many moons.  My prior amnesia had made the mere weeks of my absence from the ranch feel immeasurably long, and I had wanted for some time, quite desperately, to see my father once again, not to mention Rusl and Uli (still with child as of last I heard, but certainly not for much longer!), Sera and her darling cat, hopeless yet amicable Fado; the list of faces I longed to see seemed endless.

As we made the journey in Telma’s stagecoach, I was already envisioning the scene in my mind.  After greeting each and every last one, making sure to spend a few moments with my father’s arms around me in welcome, I would go bathe once again in the cool spring outside the village, ride through the woods on my mare Jezebel, and then sit back for a few days—maybe a week!—just to absorb and reacquaint myself with the simplicity of ranch life before finally (and willingly, mind) returning to the daily toils of Ordona.  I had spent far too long in Kakariko and subsequently Castle Town, too long away from the ranch, trapped within the fates of an adventure far too great for my tastes.  I yearned for that simplicity.

After thanking Renado for his infinite patience, assistance, and protection as well as giving Luda a promise that I would visit soon, I stepped down from the wagon and watched them depart before turning around and running excitedly into the arms of my father.  It seems that he was just as joyful to see me as I had been to see him as I felt a few tears coming from his eyes when he scooped me close; this from a man who rarely smiled, much less cried.  I was crying myself, smiling fiercely at finally being returned to the village and people I loved, and at once I knew things would be alright.

Later that evening a small festival was held outside of my father’s house to celebrate not only my return but also Beth’s, Talo’s, and Malo’s as well.  Tables were brought together for a small feast, and it seemed that everyone was quite interested in our tales while away from the province.  Parents were inspecting their children for bruises while quizzing them for descriptions of Kakariko and other out-province places.  Father did not feel the need to ask me such questions yet; he knew that I would tell him my thoughts once I had settled in.  This is, thankfully, the way I secretly wished it, for I did have many thoughts on my mind, and some of them I was not willing to share just yet.  I was waiting...

Waiting for him.  Waiting for him to return at midday tomorrow.  He promised.  And I needed his strength before I felt I could finally come to terms with the horrors—among... other things—of our Twilight journey.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The processional had started at eleven bells under the light of the full moon, and the citizens of Castle Town walked in mourning from Southgate through the alleys of town, past the main square, and then through the archways where once stood the castle gardens, now littered with debris and marbled dust from the castle’s demolition.  I had not led them in this funeral march through the town as their princess but as a fellow mourner, grieving for the lives that had been lost to the Twilight that had overtaken Lanayru, Eldin, and Faron.  I spoke highly of all those who had been lost, giving them all—whether they had fully deserved it or not—burials with honours merely for having suffered beneath the turmoil of our conqueror Zant.

As I had spoken, I felt the grief of my people swell into me, and in turn it caused my voice to nearly falter upon more than one occasion—as I knew it would.  I truly wished that I could have joined my subjects in their tears of silent goodbye, but I could not, for they looked to me instead as their leader, their pillar of strength when near all else had been taken from them.  Just when I thought I was at my strength’s end, I felt a hand gently rest upon my right shoulder, warm to the touch and infinitely comforting.  It was his hand, Link’s hand, and instantly he lent me his strength and his courage, allowing me to borrow them until the end of my solemn prayer.

The crowd finally dispersed by the time the bell tower rang again, proudly declaring midnight across the town, and I sought to retire to a summer-cottage lent to me by one of the kingdom’s country lords, yet before I abandoned the funeral pyre, I beckoned Link to join me for a small dose of conversation.  He had been such a strengthening force both during my imprisonment as well as over the past few days since Ganondorf’s defeat.  He agreed, eager to accept my invitation, and we settled down within the lush sitting room for tea and conversation.

“I hear you’re leaving,” I prompted Link as I peered at him from over my teacup.

Link laughed for a moment quite merrily.  “I see that your network of spies is in more places than I had guessed,” he mused jokingly.

“I hardly need any such network of spies when you go broadcasting such news to half the town, good sir.”  I giggled lightly, amused by the witty banter, but soon enough my eyes returned to him so that he might properly answer my question.  “Is it true?”

As he caught my gaze and inquiry, he cleared his throat uncomfortably.  “It is.  I promised Ilia... and everyone, really, that I would return to the ranch.  I can’t escape that promise.”

“I would not have you abandon that, Link,” I said calmly, smiling at him.  “I understand that they returned to Ordona Province early this morn once the celebration proper had concluded, and I would not want to keep you away from your friends and family.”

As I said those last words, I seemed to catch a wince of pain within Link’s visage, as if I had somehow—by accident—caused him some grievous harm.  Yet he seemed to recover with sufficient speed such that I was questioning whether or not I had actually seen it.  He nodded, flashing a smile to me.  It seemed genuine enough; maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.

“You’ll still visit, I hope?” I asked with faux-innocence.  In truth I wanted him to return.  Despite the lack of noble blood within his veins (though truly he had earned the right many times over!), he was in many ways an equal, a partner... nay, a friend.  He was a confidante as well.  I had always taken interest in those surrounding me regardless of status.  I celebrated their joys and mourned their losses; I helped all when I could and shared conversation with all I could afford.  Yet with Link, the interest struck a deeper chord that I could not quite fathom.  It was as if history had been rewritten and had recast him as my childhood playmate that had never once strayed from my side, one with whom I had shared an infinitude of memories and emotions, one who was inextricably entwined with my own being.

I wanted him to return one day.  I wished for that imagined history to retain its reality.

“Of course!” he said emphatically with a grin.  “It would be a pleasure.”

I smiled in relief, suddenly finding myself falling back into my chair.  How had I managed to creep towards its bitter edge, awaiting desperately his reply, without realising it?  Had my fear of a final farewell been that strong?

Placing that thought aside for the moment, I was certainly placated, and I nodded happily.  “I am pleased to hear it, Link,” I responded warmly.  “But night draws upon us, and I fear that I shall need to retire in order to attend to tomorrow’s affairs.  Will I see you before your departure to Ordona?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said as he rose, prompting me to do the same.  “I’m going to head out around dawn so that I can be there by the noon sun; I’ll be expected there, and the last thing I want to do is keep the ranch from working just because they’re waiting for my arrival.”

“‘Tis a shame that I shall not see you upon the morrow.”

Link looked at me and shook his head.  “Don’t cast it that way, Zelda,” he replied encouragingly.  “This isn’t a good-bye.  You have my promise I’ll be back.  And, if that’s not enough to please you, I’ll throw in the promise that I’ll write you a letter from time to time.  Happy yet?”

I chuckled in slight amusement and nodded my head, though in truth, I knew that I would still miss him regardless of the number of letters.  “It shall certainly suffice,” I said, deluding myself.  Crossing the room towards Link, I reached forward and bestowed upon him a very light and gentle embrace, one that he returned awkwardly yet caringly.  “Then we shall see and hear one another anon.  Ride carefully, Link.”

“And you, don’t work too hard, Zelda,” he said with a chortle, and I laughed in the wake of his cheerfulness.  We waved one another a farewell before he was gone from my borrowed home to his own.

Yet no sooner had the door closed than a wave of loneliness washed over me, and my spirits plummeted without explanation.  I stood hovering at the window overlooking the Northtown streets, watching him disappear from my view, yet still I remained there, frozen in place, until at last the single bell of the next hour chimed.

“He will write,” I finally said to myself, forcing myself to withdraw from the window.  “He will write,” I repeated.  If nothing else, it was a nice delusion.

II.

The next day, against my lofty plans to catch up on weeks of lost sleep, I was politely ordered out of bed at five bells by my father.  Taking a brief peek through the window revealed that the sun had indeed not arisen over the eastern horizon, which did not aid in my encouragement to immediately comply with the request, even thought it would have been a request I would’ve instantly obeyed had I been on my standard routine.

Once I had dressed and descended the stairs to meet my father for breakfast, he deeply apologised for the early intrusion, but Colin had made it known quite strongly that Link would return this very day, and he should be given an extra special welcome, something that should be even more grandiose than yesterday’s small celebration.  Father apparently had considered and approved of the idea and had decided, apparently, that my artistic touch would be necessary to plan such an occasion.

No longer quite so upset about being awoken so early, although still bleary-eyed, I organised the children—much less eager to be awake after having stayed up so late due to the festivities—in making some decorations.  Having known Link for longer than I can remember, I knew he was not impressed by extravagance, so we endeavoured to keep the décor quite simple.  I guided Colin and Talo in the construction of simple paper chains in the shape of Triforces, which would be strewn about the village from rooftop to rooftop, while Beth and I made a few quick sketches of Link in chalk upon spare planks of wood that would be hung upon Link’s cottage door.

Once the sun had risen, we moved our operation outside to bask in the warm, summer sun, which made work all the more enjoyable.  I would occasionally distract myself from the crafts to watch Father and Rusl roasting one of our precious herd for the feast tonight while Sera and Pergie prepared the breads, vegetables, and desserts.  Time seemed to pass faster than I could remember it ever passing, yet by eleven bells, all our decorations had been finished and hung.  It was quite a relief to be ready at such an opportune time, for I knew Link had wished to be back by midday.  After one last check over the preparations, I secretly slipped out to the small pool just inside the village gate, first for the purpose of treating myself to that bath I had been eager to take but also to greet Link before the village knew of his arrival.

It wasn’t long after I had finished my soak before I heard the familiar snorts of Epona coming down the lane.  Not wanting to miss my chance, I left my shoes resting upon the soft ground and ran barefoot to greet the boy—nay, the man—whom I had been waiting for.  He was gingerly leading the horse by the reins, yet upon seeing me he rushed forward and threw his arms around me as mine responded in kind.  I beckoned him to tarry for a few moments by the pool with me so Epona might take a well-deserved drink, and Link relented, delaying his actual arrival for a few precious moments.

“I never properly thanked you,” I said softly in reflection.

Link looked at me first in confusion before finally waving off my concern.  “It’s perfectly alright; you were going through a lot then.”

“No, it’s more than that,” I said, shaking my head.  I started reciting my entire adventure, from my kidnapping back to my final return back to Ordona.  I had been so frustrated when my memories had left me, not being able to remember anyone I cared for, but there were much deeper and darker fears that had arisen that as well.  Knowing that I could have died several times, the thought of being alone forever, and the nightmares I had dreamt—still dreaming, in truth—all of them plagued my days without any hope of escape.  But Link, even when I had not truly remembered him, had always been my source of strength, the sole comfort that kept those demons at bay, the beacon of hope that my life would find solace one day.

“You, Link, you’re the reason I carried on day after day,” I said without hesitation.  “And now I look back to the very beginning, when I had gotten cross with you that day for overworking Epona.  I had been so childish then.  I feel like an idiot now.  If nothing else, this big... thing we all went through, it’s opened my eyes in a way.  You mean a lot to me, Link.  And as I said in Kakariko, ‘Whenever you return, I’ll be waiting for you.’  I meant it then; I still do.  I’m... really sorry for getting upset.”

“Ilia, it’s alright, really.”  He placed an arm around me, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, smiling now, finally feeling that my life was returning to normal.  “We’re both alive, and we’re still the best of friends.  And we’re both home now.  We can forget that all of the bad stuff happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that, Link,” I answered.  I sat up and looked at him seriously.  “I don’t think I could ever forget what you’ve done for me.  But I told you that I didn’t thank you properly for everything you’ve done for me, and I doubt this will be sufficient either.  But, until I get the chance to rescue you some day, this will have to do.”  Without waiting for him to pull away, I leaned in and kissed him gently upon the cheek.  I smiled a little bashfully as I backed away, trying also to stifle a giggle after seeing the surprise upon his face.  “Thank you, Link.”

“Y-you’re, you’re welcome,” he said in a stutter, chuckling slightly.

With that, I couldn’t help but playfully laugh alongside him.  “Come, I shouldn’t steal you away for any longer.  The ranch is dying to see you again.”  After putting my shoes on, I stood up purposefully before taking his arms and pulling him up.  “After all, there’s going to be a party,” I added.

“You know me all too well, Ilia,” he says with a laugh.  “Let’s go.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The parade of petitioners that had come the next morning had been incredible.  I had lost count of those of those who had stopped either to pay me visit or to inform me of some pressing need after a mere hour’s time, and still they streamed out and far beyond the door of my borrowed sitting room.  Where the line’s end could be found was beyond my knowledge, and yet after a mere hour I had become quite restless, imagining that I had already listened to each father, mother, and child in all of Hyrule multiple times already.

I sat motionless upon the cushioned chair, eyes trained upon each petitioner before me in the appearance that they had my undivided attention.  Yet despite my outward calm, internally I was immensely restless.  I found myself unable to concentrate, my mind distracted by random thoughts that fluttered about like gossamer butterflies—dazzlingly brilliant and speckled with colour, their trifles manifold more entertaining than this ritual.  Only during the brief respites between petitioners could I truly lose myself to my daydreams, therein finding a pleasure that felt almost forbidden—certainly not princess-like—only to realise moments later that I must once again suspend such indulgences.  Each time that I was dragged away from that heaven, my psyche would be bruised with ever increasing trauma, making the swelling pit in my stomach all the more discomfiting.

At twelve bells, the petitioning period was over at last.  Though I had long since concluded that I was practically incapable in concentrating wholly on the pleas of my people, I had persevered through the session for their sake.  Yet at the appointed time, as genuinely as possible, albeit still guiltily eagerly, I dismissed myself from them and left to my chambers.  Once alone, I took advantage of my freedom.  I laid upon a small sofa in front of the window, basking in the sunlight and the blue sky.  My eyes drank its warmth briefly as I immersed myself into the light.  Soon I felt myself at ease, only then allowing myself to fly back into the paradise that had earlier entertained me.  I closed my eyes and imagined.

“Princess, are you truly ill?”

I had heard neither the door open nor the visitor enter.  I looked up to see the wry smile and crossed arms of my advisor Shad.  His eyes watched me with scepticism, as if he could see through my form.  A smile must have pursed my lips without my knowledge, and I quickly sought to restore my outward composure.  Yet my façade had already been exposed; it was no use hiding my thoughts.

“Do you suppose he made it to Ordona already?” I asked as naïvely as I could.

Shad chuckled briefly to my annoyance.  He always had had that mannerism.  “Princess, the fields are no longer crawling with the shadow beasts; I would imagine he’s already enjoying being home.”

I looked away from the scholar and back to the sky, shrugging nonchalantly.  “I suppose then that it is truth.”  Enjoying being home... what sounded like paradise for him sounded so much like a curse for me.

III.

I walked toward the field where the Ordon goats were out, contentedly grazing upon the tall grasses of the clearing.  There was a spring in my step as I walked the familiar trail through the village.  Though the trees were already starting to wear their autumnal raiment, alerting me that I had practically missed out upon the last month of summer, I was in too good a mood to pay the scene much mind.  Whether the trees were green or bright orange, whether the sun was shining warmly or the wind proffering a slight chill, I was perfectly content with life for the first time since my kidnapping.

Settling back into the Ordon lifestyle had certainly helped that process along considerably.  Change was certainly something I accepted reluctantly, and so I delighted in the near constancy of the ranch.  Uli having her newborn babe (born just two days ago) after so many months was truly the perfect tempo of change for my blood!  I loved being surrounded by the same rustic buildings, the familiar scents, and the people I had grown up with.  Yet strangely enough, it was not the old familiarity that pulled most strongly at my heartstrings.

I leaned up against the gate outside the goat field and found Link—no longer wearing his greens—atop Epona in the enclosure’s centre.  I paused as my eyes drank him in, losing myself to the sight of him running his mare through the small obstacle course he and Fado had set up.  She was an amazing horse, and he was an amazing rider, better than I had ever noticed before.  It was plain to see he loved her... even if he wasn’t as meticulous in caring for her as I’d like him to be.  But still, it was an admirable trait, one of many admirable traits.

“You neglectin’ yer chores again, Ilia?” came a gruff voice from behind me.

I jumped at the sound of my father behind me, squeaking rather conspicuously.  I spun around a little too quickly and inadvertently backed myself into the fence, the fence that I had completely forgotten I had been leaning upon seconds ago.  I could’ve sworn that, as hard as I hit it, the fence should’ve toppled over, but apparently Rusl had built it much sturdier than it looked.  I looked up to Father and I cast a rather stern smile at him.  “By the goddesses, don’t scare me like that!” I cried out.

My father chuckled to himself, his belly nearly bouncing as he did so.  Still his lips were sealed in a rigid line, as expected, yet I could tell his mood was jovial and not serious.  “Sorry, darlin’.  Didn’t mean to scare you.  I just noticed you were up here watchin’ Link.”

My cheeks flushed pink as I turned back to Link.  By this time, he had noticed the two of us at the gate and waved at us, which I was a delighted to return.  “Yeah, you caught me.  I had finished my chores earlier, so I thought I’d...”  I’d what?

“You and the boy have been spendin’ quite a bit o’ time together, haven’t ya?” he asked me as he watched Link turn his attention back to the obstacle course.

I giggled a bit in unexpected glee.  “Yeah, we have,” I answered.  It was worthless trying to keep secrets from Father.  He could always read my thoughts as if I had
scribbled them on my forehead.  I continued watching Link and Epona leap over the small barriers in the middle of the pasture, and my mind started wandering, reflecting on all the years we had spent by one another’s side as close friends, on the past week since our return.

Link and I had always been inseparable, yet our bond somehow felt much stronger than it had ever felt.  One night we would sneak out into the thick of the woods and share a campfire together without the town watching over us.  Another afternoon, we joined the children in abandoning our chores for ten minutes to have a swimming race, which, of course, turned into a splashing competition.  We hadn’t had such fun since our younger years.  Whatever had developed between us, I was drawn to it like a moth to candlelight.

I’ll admit it; I’d fallen for the guy.

I felt an arm on my shoulder, and I looked up at my father, who was still watching Link ride around the field on the horse.  For a brief moment, I could’ve sworn I saw some emotion upon his face, but if there had been, it disappeared in a flash.  “I’m happy for ya, Ilia.  Darn happy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Letter for you, Your Highness.”

An envelope was suddenly tossed atop my desk.  It landed flat upon a piece of parchment I had been working on for the better part of the past hour, and it slid quickly across it, bumping into the tip of my quill, causing my flowing script to become a scrawled marking upon the document.  It was only then, in frustration, that I paid my messenger any heed.

“Be careful, Ashei!  These letters to our neighbouring kingdoms are of the utmost import!”

She seemed to not to be at all concerned by the slight.  With a shrug she simply dismissed it and sat down in a chair on the other side of the room.  “It’s from Link, Your Highness.  You did send me to see him.”

I felt the blood drain from my face before carelessly dropping the quill upon the desk—splattering a few precious drops of ink on the already stained letter—and fetching my dagger to tear the letter open.  I had to have been a sight, for my anxious efforts earned a chuckle from the warrioress.  It took longer than I wished to open the letter since my hands were nearly quivering as I slid the dagger beneath the wax seal to extract and clutch at the message within.

I scanned through the contents quickly at first and then subsequently poured through it with careful reflection.  My eyes drank his words with surprising vigour, almost as if I had been parched for so long that I had forgotten what it was to drink.  As I read, a growing knot formed in my stomach, twisting my insides in unimaginable torment.  I reached the end of his letter, yet I could not put the paper down.  My eyes returned to his last paragraph, reading it again and again, each time redoubling my sympathies for the man:

Zelda, though Ordon is where I dwell, it no longer feels like my home.  What should I do?

“He feels lost,” I said absently, almost forgetting that I still had company.  I held the letter to my bosom, my heart going out to him.  With my thoughts distracted as if in a thick fog, my focus aimlessly wandered for some time before I finally found my messenger, the girl who had been my closest confidant other than him.  “His adventures have changed him, yet Ordon still remains unaffected by the Twilight, Lady Ashei.  He no longer sees it as home, and he constantly seeks to keep himself distracted, as if such diversion will resolve this woe.”  I sighed then, placing the letter neatly upon my desk.  “He asks for advice; I know not what to tell him.”

Ashei furrowed her brow, her face near illegible.  There was no surprise covertly hidden in her expression, but her precise thoughts eluded me.  Finally, she stood and came to me, placing a hand upon my shoulder.  “Hey, you know as well as I that he’s got it rough, yet he’s got to have some patience.  He’s been away for over a month, and the village hasn’t changed a wink!  The village will catch up to him eventually.  The best he can do ‘til then is be with his friends and to talk his problems through.  He needs someone who’ll be there for him when you’re not; I mean, what better friends could I have had when I first came to Hyrule other than Telma and Shad, yeah?”

I considered her words thoughtfully, my heart gradually finding a newfound ease.  With a gracious nod and a polite thank-you, I invited her to stay as I began writing my reply upon a clean sheet of parchment.  I felt the need to have it sent without delay.