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Link was awake. The bed was comfortable, the air smelled of sea breeze and the calming waves of Lurelin’s beaches
murmured their lullaby outside the Village’s Inn. He could have slept, but yet, he didn’t. Despite his peaceful surroundings,
something was off. He had lain restless before a blood moon. But he wasn’t restless now and there hadn’t been a blood moon
in over a year. His mind was calm. Well, except wondering why he still hadn’t fallen asleep. The wind rustled the Palms in
front of their rooms window. Link turned his head towards the other bed. Zelda was sleeping with her back to him.
He observed her body raising and falling with her breathing. Faster than usual.
He wondered before, if others would think it weird, that he picked up certain small, seemingly irrelevant details. Like how
Zeldas breathing became slightly audible when she slept. Not to say that she snored. But how it would deepen before she
woke up in the morning. How it became hitched before she would have a nightmare, which also resulted in her waking up.
Right now, she was breathing too fast to be asleep. And maybe not hearing it was what kept him awake.
One hundred years ago, he spend a lot of time around her, too. Even if he didnt remember, he knew certain things.
That they didn’t have the best start.
Because of his silence.
Because of her resenting him for what he represented.
They eventually got passed that.
He opened up to her, not letting their positions get in the way.
She saw him, Link, and not the sword strapped to his back.
After Ganon, on their first trip visiting the Gorons, he had a strange thing happen to him. Like a vision. When he wanted to
show her the view from the side of the path up to Goron City, where one could look over Central Hyrule and the Lost Woods.
Where one of the photos had been taken, that she left for him.
On his first trip up there, to free Vah Rudania, seeing over the vast expanse below him had filled him with a feeling of certainty,
that he and Zelda had been friends in the Before.
But revisiting this spot a second time, he had heard her voice. Seen her face, the concern in her features. The scrutiny in
her eyes as she took care of the wound on his forearm. He had even felt the sting of it, as if it was there, real.
A similar look of concern met him, when he snapped back out of it.
Zelda, upon hearing what he just saw, started to think aloud what might have caused the memory to come back this time.
After hearing some of her theories, Link came up with his own. It was her. Zelda was there with him in the Before,
so he remembered in the After only when she was back with him, too. So he told her his theory.
He didn’t remember his choice of words, but it resulted in Zelda blushing. He was certain it wasn’t the heat of Death Mountain.
Maybe embarrassment, that she hadn’t had that idea herself?
Zelda stood up, snapping Link out his train of thought. Quietly, she sneaked towards the small table by the door, and he could
hear her pouring water from the pitcher. Usually, she would have a glass on their nightstand, but the Inn’s room lacked that piece of furniture.
Was this another of those details, that other may consider weird to pick up? Maybe. Maybe others just didn’t get the chance to notice.
Because others didn’t live with Zelda in the same house.
Or share a bed with her.
When they got to their room earlier today, Link was disappointed, almost sad, when he saw that there were two separate beds.
If anyone would ask him about it, he would say, it didn’t matter to him. He didn’t talk about is feelings to anyone. Except with Zelda.
Because Zelda understood him. And he admired her for that, for he didn’t understand himself at times.
Could it be, that he couldn’t sleep, because Zelda wasn’t close? But she was close, barely two meters to his right.
He heard her footsteps coming back. Should he close his eyes and pretend to sleep? So she didn’t feel guilty about waking him up?
But he didn’t want to lie to her. Was that lying? Had she noticed him being awake, when she got up in the first place?
Normally, he would just ask her. If he was overthinking again.
He tended to do that. And when he felt like he needed to ask, usually he was just overthinking.
Worrying too much.
That was one of the things, where Zelda understood him better than he did. And he was glad she did, for it helped him.
Being less stressed, paranoid about pointless things. She had explained to him, that she often felt the same.
With both of them growing up under heavy expectations, that was kind of deemed to happen.
He had helped her in the Before. When she doubted herself. Called herself a failure.
Zelda was far from a failure. Quite the opposite. She had sealed away the Calamity after all. Just raised her hand and *poof*. Gone was the ugly demon pig.
There was probably more to it than just raising your hand. She just made it look so easy. Zelda often said, watching him swing his sword against
monsters made fighting look easy. But he knew, despite his skill, it wasn’t.
Lost in thought again, he stared at the ceiling. In his peripheral vision, he noticed her sitting on the mattress, looking at him.
“Can’t sleep?” she whispered.
He shifted his head, his gaze meeting hers. Blue on Green.
“Haven’t really tried.” He sat up on his elbows, nodding his head towards her, returning the question.
“I’m tired, was reflecting on the day. I had so much fun meeting the people of Lurelin, going for a swim in the ocean, the stroll after dinner.”
She smiled, but Link could see that something was bothering her.
He was good at reading her.
As she was at reading him.
“Today was amazing, but I feel like my brain is gonna try and ruin it by ending it with one of those goddess forsaken nightmares again.”
They both had nightmares. He always had the same one, he told her about it. Hers differed. A few days after the defeat of Ganon, they started.
When they moved to Hateno, he would wake up from her thrashing, gather her up in his arms until she calmed down. That’s how he started noticing her breathing.
He got to the point where his subconscious would wake him up, if her breathing turned irregular. If she was having a nightmare.
He climbed into his bed, her bed, carefully wake her and stay for the rest of the night.
Eventually, she uttered the theory, that him being close could prevent nightmares altogether. After one week of peaceful sleep, she deemed her theory to be proven.
His sleeping roll disappeared into one of the chests under the stairs, only to be taken out when they would travel. Her bed, his bed, became their bed.
When they did sleep apart, which happened occasionally, it showed her nightmares had become way less frequent, yet didn’t entirely disappear.
And even with her playing them down right now, he knew how they would stir her up.
Link also had a feeling that this was in a way her asking him, if she could join him.
He scooted slightly closer to the wall and lifted his blanket up invitingly.
He was rewarded with her radiant smile, which seemed to light up their room.
After some shuffling and limb entanglement, Zelda nestled up in his arms, her forehead against his temple.
He felt his eyelids grow heavy.
Link was tired. The bed was comfortable, the air smelled of Zelda and the calming sound of her breathing lulled him in like a lullaby.
Here, with her, he could sleep for another 100 years.