[In some way, in some form, they have always been together. The hero and the princess, bound by destiny, bound by a cycle that neither of them asked or wanted to be part of... Once, Link felt trapped by this cycle, by the weight of this destiny. Once, he allowed it to wrap itself around him, to silence his voice, to stifle his thoughts. He had allowed it to change who he was, who he is, as if he was nothing but a tool. A hand by which to hold the sword.
It's thanks to Zelda, in part, that he was able to move past that.
The cycle becomes a reality. An opportunity; a means by which to know the incredible woman that Zelda has become. Strong, brave, kind -- the smartest person he has ever known. The one person in the world --in any world, he must acknowledge-- that he would lay down everything for. That he would live for.
A heavy weight settles on his heart, the understanding stoked like a small fire growing larger, becoming more real with each passing breath and moment. Her warmth seeps into him where their bodies meet and he knows, he understands, that the very thing he asked of her so many months ago is no longer enough. That he must let go in order to move forward. ...that he must move forward.]
I have, [is his response, whispered softly against her hair, but spoken with a sense of weight and finality that belies more -- belies the decision solidifying in his mind.
It's not a sudden decision so much as an inevitability, and while she may guess at what that decision is from his tone, he still owes it to her to speak it out loud.]
no subject
It's thanks to Zelda, in part, that he was able to move past that.
The cycle becomes a reality. An opportunity; a means by which to know the incredible woman that Zelda has become. Strong, brave, kind -- the smartest person he has ever known. The one person in the world --in any world, he must acknowledge-- that he would lay down everything for. That he would live for.
A heavy weight settles on his heart, the understanding stoked like a small fire growing larger, becoming more real with each passing breath and moment. Her warmth seeps into him where their bodies meet and he knows, he understands, that the very thing he asked of her so many months ago is no longer enough. That he must let go in order to move forward. ...that he must move forward.]
I have, [is his response, whispered softly against her hair, but spoken with a sense of weight and finality that belies more -- belies the decision solidifying in his mind.
It's not a sudden decision so much as an inevitability, and while she may guess at what that decision is from his tone, he still owes it to her to speak it out loud.]
Zelda...
[It is just so very hard to know how to begin.]