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Waking up was difficult. Link’s head felt too heavy; his limbs ached. The scorching fire of the Triforce had subsided into a dull warm numbness, like a limb finally stirring after long disuse.
Link made an attempt at sitting up, but his head spun. Rather than falling back, he was still until the dizziness subsided. He pushed the blankets back, noting gratefully that the bandages covering his left hand were back in place.
Ganondorf was sitting next to a small, makeshift campfire, heating something in a small pot. The colors were still too bright, the light too harsh, uncertain and flickering as it was, and the food didn’t smell like food.
“You should rest,” Ganondorf said, his voice still even and calm.
“You should leave me,” Link countered. “One day you won’t be able to talk me down.”
“What makes you think you’re dangerous?” Ganondorf tilted his head on one side. He continued to stir the concoction in the pot for a while longer, then ladled up a bowl of whatever he’d been heating and squatted next to Link.
Link dropped his head so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact, too-long hair swinging across his face. “I should never have let them find me and take me to court. I only made it worse.”
“Don’t give up now. You still have to prove them wrong.” Ganondorf gestured with the bowl. “Don’t worry, it’s tea, not soup. I learned my lesson after last time.”
Link accepted the bowl and sipped at the tea. It took a few minutes for his body to remember how to recognize food or drink.
“May I see it?”
“I don’t want to see it,” Link murmured, clutching his arms closer to himself.
“You don’t have to look. I just want to see if there’s anything I can do.”
Wordlessly, Link held out his left hand. Ganondorf undid the bandages and examined the back of Link’s hand. Despite himself, Link looked.
The Triforce still had not gone dormant. It still shone radiant and golden against his skin, threading veins of molten gold through him.
Link closed his eyes. He did not open them again until the bandages were back in place.
“I used to wonder why the princess would entrust it to you, of all people—you, who wouldn’t use it at all if you could help it.” Ganondorf’s voice was soft and contemplative. “I think I understand why now. It was because you wouldn’t use it wantonly.”
Link clutched the blankets closer to himself. “You wanted to use it?”
Ganondorf’s smile was sad. “I used to.”