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She visits him one last time. The forest around her is ageless and bright. The forest children whisper and stare as she walks slowly between them, heading into the woods. She is now old, her hair white instead of gold. Her hands are curled and creaking, and her back is bent, but when she enters his clearing she does it with a smile on her face. He died decades ago, but all the same he turns to greet her. The moss on his armor crumbles slightly where he bends. The vines across his shoulders tell her that he has not moved in a long time. He bows before her, sinking to one knee.
“Princess Zelda.”
She places a hand under his chin and gently lifts his face. The bone feels almost like well-worn wood, but much more dense. She wonders if he can feel her fingers. They are not as soft as they once were.
“Rise, Link. You needn’t bow before me, you know that.”
“I know.”
The familiar exchange puts them both at ease. He returns to his previous position, his rusted armor scraping against itself as he sits on the stump once more. His one red eye looks at her. She smiles and the wrinkles around her eyes deepen. Without a proper face he cannot frown, but the tone of his voice is enough to tell her his mood.
“You mustn’t stay long.”
He is worried. He is always worried. He will not like what she has planned. She will have to break the idea to him slowly. Zelda takes a step forward and puts her hand on his shoulder.
“Link, do you know how old I am?”
He is silent. He thinks. They were the same age, so how old was he? He came into the forest when he was 25. No, later. 28? And how long had it been since then? Six years maybe? Ten? It is not often one sees a stalfos stutter, but Link is so very unsure. He takes a shot in the dark.
“Th-thirty six?”
Zelda laughs, a deep kindly laugh, and Link is sure he is wrong. She can’t be a day over 17. Not with that same laugh he remembers so perfectly.
“Link, I’ll be eighty three in two days.”
His jaw drops, and Zelda has to hold a hand to her mouth to stop her giggling. The sight is beyond comical. An aging skeletal warrior with his mouth hanging open in complete shock. A wizened old princess trying not to laugh at her childhood friend. She clears her throat and starts talking again.
“Link I’m very old. My granddaughter is growing up to be a fine, capable princess in her own right. The royal line is secure, and my country no longer needs me as it once did.”
Link’s mouth closes with a faint click of teeth on teeth. He shifts forward a little, about to say something, but Zelda raises her hand, telling him to wait. She is not done.
“I know my time is almost up. So I wish to join you.”
He is silent. She wonders for a moment if maybe she was not clear enough. Maybe he is waiting for her to elaborate. She puts a hand on his shoulder plate.
“I want to stay in the forest, preserve myself like you have, and help you watch over the fu-“
“No.”
She’s shocked at the force in his voice, and more than that, he interrupted her. She’s not angry so much as she is searching her mind, trying to remember if he had ever done that before. He’s always been so soft spoken to her. He was quiet and comforting and just a little distant. Now however he is firm and final. In her stunned silence he stands. The helmet makes him look taller than her. He speaks.
“This is for me to do. You mustn’t stay long.”
She frowns, and lets her hand drop from his shoulder.
“Link, I am staying. You need not make yourself so lonely.”
She fixes him with a stern look, and he does not crumble as he once might have. He meets her gaze and there is not a hit on doubt or consideration in his voice. He will not let this happen.
“You have a family, you have a kingdom, you have subjects. Go back to them.”
She feels a pang of resentment. An old hurt she thought had been washed away by time.
“And you did not? I am willing and ready to make the same sacrifices that you have.”
“I did not. I cannot let you do this to yourself. People will miss you.”
She gasps, not believing what she is hearing. She regrets once more that she did not learn of his plan to preserve himself until it was too late. Her hands find either side of his face, and she does not flinch when her fingers splay over skinless cheeks.
“And I will miss you, Link! You’ve always made space around yourself, but I am not willing to let you go beyond my reach. I would miss you.”
She can tell already that he does not believe her. His one ghostly eye is almost unfocused. He is not looking at her. He is looking at a girl from a very long time ago. The girl she could have been. The girl that sent him back because she knew she would survive without him.
“You’ll be fine.”
“Link, please-hey!”
He interrupts her for the second time in his life, but this time not by talking. He moves forward and picks her up, not caring to continue their conversation. He begins walking out of the Lost Woods. She struggles in his grasp and her fists beat feebly against him for a few moments before she stills. Her voice sounds tired with age and exertion when she finally speaks again.
“Do you fear that I am not strong enough? Or that I have nothing of use to tell our successors?”
She studies her hands while she waits for a reply. Her knuckles are swollen and her skin is thin. She knows she was not weak in her time as ruler, but perhaps she has waited too long. Link’s voice finally sounds, breaking through her reverie.
“Of course not Princess. You are formidable and wise and selfless. But this is not your part to play. Do not torment yourself over my fate. Rest easy knowing I will protect your legacy.”
She lets out a resigned sigh and rests her head on his chest plate. They are passing through the Kokiri village now. Children’s faces peer curiously at the sight of them. The eternally youthful so interested in the picture of degradation that they present. They reach the path leading out to Hyrule field and Link gently places Zelda back onto her feet. Her eyes drift over the ground aimlessly. She does not make a move to leave. He reaches out a hand as if to stroke her hair, but stops and his arm falls back into place at his side.
“Thank you for visiting me.”
She turns and hugs him. It is uncomfortable, as he is all metal and bone, but she can feel him sigh in relief, and when his decrepit arms encircle her back she feels comforted. She knows further protests will get her nowhere, but she has so much more to say, so much more to tell him. The embrace stretches on, and finally she finds the words she wants.
“I hope you need not wait long for the peace you seek.”
They part, and he watches her slowly walk out of the forest and back into her kingdom. He lingers there after she’s gone. He does not know for how long, but when the leaves have changed six times he feels that is enough. He knows she will not return. He convinces himself that he is glad. Saria clambers up onto his shoulders, peering into the distance with him for a moment.
“I think she’s gone.”
He hums in agreement, but does not move. Not just yet. She pats his helmet with one of her hands.
“Come on. Let’s go back to the woods. I’ll play for you some more.”
Finally he turns, careful not to dislodge his passenger. His limbs creak and clank as he trudges back into the Lost Woods. The sounds feel out of place amidst the soft grass and warm light. They go deeper this time. There is no one left who might want to find him.