What! I made it! I made it! Against all odds and in spite of my restless hype!

See you at the end.

EPILOGUE

When Zelda walked into the house, she and her father were greeted with warm applause.

It was a cool autumn evening, the breeze bringing with it a hint of winter. The gas street lamps in Faron brought out the light gold in the leaves. Inside the house, however, one might have believed it was summer. An entire crowd of well-wishers and family friends had gathered to welcome them both home and celebrate their health.

It was touching, in a way, though all Zelda wanted to do was curl up in her room and mourn in peace. Both Aryll and Dark had accepted employment under her father, and they had gone home to Ordon to conclude what business remained to complete. They hadn't mentioned the closing of Link's accounts, but the dull look in their eyes had spoken volumes.

Midna Black, too, had gone home to Twilight, choosing to give them all time to grieve. When enough time had passed, Zelda knew, she would return for Dark. They had seemed mostly inseparable over the past few days, silently supporting one another.

As the staff came forward to congratulate her father on his miraculous recovery, Zelda slipped away. No doubt her father noticed, but he kindly said nothing.

Further into the house, as she escaped from the raucous noise of celebration, she began to feel the crushing loneliness.

It was alien to her. In a way, she was exactly where she had started. At home, with her father, as she had been for years. And yet, the voice inside her wept bitterly, a mourning that seemed to transcend the ages.

She mouthed his name to thin air, and the tears came again, though she had been sure she had cried every last drop the day before. And again the day before that.

Wiping the tears away was a futile exercise, but she tried anyway.

Leaning against the hallway wall, she took a moment to compose herself. She took deep breaths, sniffed, wiped her eyes in a kerchief. She had a headache brewing, a consequence of the tears, but she was tired, too, tired of socializing and tired of sobbing when she wasn't careful to stay numb.

Sniffing again to attempt some sort of composure, she suddenly smelled something soft.

It was a fragrant scent, and oddly familiar, a scent she had not smelled in this lifetime.

Pausing, Zelda blinked. This lifetime? She would have scoffed if not for the powerful feeling that overtook her every time she inhaled it.

It smelled like flowers. But which ones? The scent was lighter than lavender, less pungent than geraniums, not as exotic as orange blossoms―

She ambled down the hallway now, absolutely lost in thought. It seemed like no flower scent she could identify in recent memory. If not for the strange feeling of déjà vu, she might have sworn the smell was entirely alien to her, a completely foreign blossom without a traceable mark in her memory. New, yet old. Very old.

Abstractly, she recalled laughter and pain, horror and tears, and hope, but nothing more tangible, and nothing she could pin to her actual personal history. How odd.

The smell grew stronger as she approached her study, and she paused, the train of thought maddening. Where in the world had she smelled this scent? How could it be both familiar and not?

She swung the door open, pensive, the thought on the tip of her tongue, and was suddenly assailed by the full-bodied perfume of hundreds of flowers.

She blinked. Everywhere she looked, white and blue flowers were displayed, in vases, in bouquets, in great woven ornaments, in entire sheaves. The smell was strong, and sweet, and comforting, and it made her tremble. No area of her study had been spared. She might as well have walked into a garden.

Licking her lips nervously, she looked at the center of the room, in that place where she had been with him, and froze.

With a cry, she stumbled forward, and ran her hand against the Master Sword, carefully laid out on the carpet.

Her heart started beating loudly, a great thumping in her chest. There, the Fused Shadows, and Majora's Mask, and the Rod of Seasons, and the Goddess Harp― everything that had been taken, here!

But… How?

She kneeled, lifting the Ocarina of Time with trembling hands. All around her, thousands of blooming flowers seemed to drown her in memory, and suddenly she knew what these flowers were called: silent princesses. And she could have sworn she remembered another life, or many other lives, with their triumphs and disappointments, their pains and their joys.

"Link," she whispered.

Now her heart began to race, her blood pounding in her ears. She pushed herself to her feet, animated with a lingering hope that she had been certain was wilted, suddenly both rejuvenated and terrified.

She ran through the flowers and to the window, pushing it open and feeling the sudden autumn night air hit her like a hammer blow to the chest. But she braced herself and leaned out, eyes wide, desperate for something, for a sign.

The street was deserted, mostly, the falling leaves beginning to carpet the ground in gold and red. Somewhere down the road, under one of the street lamps, a lone figure was walking slowly, and Zelda felt her heart pounding against her ribcage.

"Link!"

The figure paused, but did not turn around, lowering his hat against his eyes instead, and continuing his walk.

But Zelda knew.

Pushing away from the window, she ran back outside, hopping over the artifacts in one bound, and she ran down the hallway, pulling the hem of her dress out of the way. Without pausing a single second, she raced down the staircase to the kitchen. The nearest door was gaping slightly to let the heat of the ovens escape. She did not wait to greet Cook, who peered at her in utter confusion, pushing her whole weight against the door instead, and tumbling out into the small vegetable garden. Then, she gathered up her skirt and pushed herself over the short fence, as she had done countless times when she was a child, and she was in the street.

She peered into the barely illuminated dark of the road. The figure was even smaller now, a mere silhouette in the distance.

"Miss Zelda?" Cook asked, peering out at her from the house.

"I'm alright, Mrs. Cook," Zelda said, barely glancing back. "I will be right back."

And, removing her heeled shoes, she started to run. The pavement was cold against her stockings, and there were several puddles and wet leaves that splashed against her shins, but she couldn't think. There was no cold in that moment, no danger, no fear. The mud was perfect, the leaves as pure as liquid gold, the air bracing, the stars brighter than diamonds.

There was hope in her heart, in her lungs, in her veins. Her entire body worked with her, her dress felt light against her skin, her feet barely touched the ground.

She wouldn't let him get away.

There he was, familiar even with the lowered hat and the coat, the street lights casting a warm glow on him. She caught up to him, breathless, and he stopped walking.

When he spoke, she knew: "I didn't think you'd want to see me."

Zelda could have wept with joy. "You were never known for your wisdom."

Then, before he could reply, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the wool of his coat. Gently, with one movement, he turned around, and suddenly she was looking up into his eyes.

He looked different. His hair was shorter― like hers. A necessity after having singed so much of it. And he seemed strangely anxious.

"I didn't mean to hurt you or your father. What happened was my fault. I hope you will accept my apology."

Zelda blinked at him. "And you thought a roomful of flowers and artifact restitution would do?"

Link swallowed hard. "I meant to recover all the money you may have lost as a result of my actions―"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "Oh, Link." Then, without giving him time to think twice on the matter, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him squarely on the lips.

He didn't wait before wrapping his arms around her. It was nice. Comforting, familiar, and combined with the exhilaration of relief, of stolen time, it was the best kiss of Zelda's life.

Then, as he broke for air, Link looked down at her, his brow furrowed. "Were you hurt?" He ran one of her shorter locks through his fingers, frowning. "I didn't―"

"Minor burns, they're mostly healed now. They feel like a bad sunburn," Zelda said. "How did you escape? The house― it collapsed."

Link looked sheepish. "I broke a window and ran out sometime before that. Then I saw the constables everywhere, and I realized how guilty I looked, with every single robbery item on me, and I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't want them to think I was to blame. I wanted to return them to you, and you only."

"We thought you were dead," Zelda cried, poking him sharply in the chest. "Not a word, not a telegram―" She gasped. "Your brother and sister!"

Link cringed, though there was no telling whether this was due to the finger bruising his chest or the embarrassment. "Actually, they knew almost as soon as I got out. I asked Dark and Aryll to play the part. I wanted to see how amenable you were to restitution, and when they told me you had said no to the money―"

"Oh, the three of you are idiots," Zelda said, unable to keep the fondness out of her annoyance. "I grieved for you!"

Link peered down at her, his boyish charm the same as it had always been, since that first night in Clock Town. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm relieved to hear it."

"What was your plan, exactly?" Zelda asked, crossing her arms. "Vanish into the night?"

Link smiled. "It's what I do."

"There will be no more vanishing," Zelda insisted, angrily. "I have had enough of it."

Link echoed her stance, crossing his arms, raising a brow. "I don't think you have the authority to command that."

"You said you loved me," Zelda reminded him. "I was completely smoked out, but I remember that much. And if you meant it―"

"I did."

Zelda swallowed hard at the look in his eyes, then forged onward. "If you meant it, you will not vanish again."

Link rolled his eyes. Now, he looked exactly like the man she had known, the man she had lain with on that carpet, the man she wanted in her life for the rest of her days. "What's in it for me?"

She gaped. "What, you want payment?"

Link shrugged, evidently amused. "I think it's only fair."

"Fair?!"

He reached out, took her arm and pulled her forward, until she was standing in the circle of his arms. The trees rustled, and a new flurry of leaves fell around them in the semi-darkness. Here, against the warmth of his body, feeling the steady pulse of his heart, Zelda felt safe and embarrassingly happy.

"I think a dowry will do," he mused.

"A dowry," Zelda echoed, dumbly.

He smiled, and she let him kiss her again, feeling every nerve in her body glow with delight.

"Well?" He asked, when he stopped, though he still kept his forehead against hers.

She nodded mutely, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"Good."

He kissed her again, and again, and again, until she began to shiver and he realized she was barefoot. With an oath, he scooped her up off the ground, and she squeaked.

"Let's get you home," he said, his voice hoarse. Zelda's lips felt pleasantly tingly, and she could only giggle like a girl. She spent the entire walk back kissing his cheek, the only part of his face she had ready access to, delighted by the stubble she felt against her lips.

As they reached the garden gate, Link put her back on her feet carefully, and they looked at each other in pleased silence.

Then, they raised their eyes towards the sky, to the millions of stars shining overhead, and in that moment, they could have sworn the moon itself was, at last, within their reach.

... So! I told you everything would be fine.

And with that, this story concludes. I think it wasn't a bad run for something that required so much darn effort and discipline. Not sure I will ever have the nerve to attempt something like that again before a while.

Still, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm glad we got to share something during the wait for Breath of the Wild, and I appreciate all the encouragement you've given me when the going got tough.

For those of you who have been following along all this time without a word, I now invite you to leave a quick review. Even a score out of ten, with nothing else, will do, if only to acknowledge it was legible. Thank you ahead of time, and take extra good care of yourselves.

All my love,
CM

P.S. GET HYPE