The final moment in a story that turned out to be about twice again as long as I ever imagined. And that's all you'll get from me until you've read it.

. . .

Moments: Who Watches Over Me

Midna awoke with a name on her lips and opened her eyes to rough wooden walls, mismatched blue plates, a cerulean blanket draped over the skylight far, far above. Link's house was oddly cozy in light of the man who owned it. There were touches, here and there, to suggest a martial past- a wooden shield, hung over the door; the Master Sword, leaning against the oven.

The last struck a chord with her, and she sat up, glancing around. Link was gone, and that in itself was remarkable; the man she loved (and who loved her) had never, in her experience, ventured outside his house unarmed-

Link loved her. Recollection stuck Midna like the sting of a wasp and made further thought impossible. She sank back down to the pillow and stared at the sky.

Link loved her. Part of the story she knew already, or had pieced together- after she left he had gone and seen Ralis at the very least and more than likely he had gone to see others among his old allies. She supposed she hadn't really thought about whether or not he was looking for her. She supposed she hadn't really wanted to know the answer.

There was a knock on the door and Midna scrambled out of Link's bed, looked desperately around for a shadow to hide in. But when the door opened there was only Link on the other side of it, holding a plump gillfish up like a peace offering.

"Hello," he said. "I thought we could talk."

Morning in Ordon. Midna sitting by the oven, tentatively picking at a roast gillfish. Link standing, not facing her, telling his story. His cap is bunched up in his left hand; his right is in constant motion, gesturing and waving, moving through the still air like a leaf caught in a capricious current of the wind. There's a fresh bandage on his shoulder; he hasn't been to the healing spring. Midna worries about him.

"…Zelda's angry at me, of course," he was saying, "It's never a good idea to blow off a princess- I learned that lesson early."

Nothing. Perhaps the issue of Midna's lost standing was a sensitive one? Link hurried on.

"Our old friend the warlord ended up being the missing link," he said, "although I had to knock him down and break his wrist before he would tell me anything. How Ralis found him I have no earthly notion. I'm sorry about that, by the way. I knew he was hurting but I had no idea he would take such a drastic step. With any luck that's as far as he'll be willing to take it- he has to know he can't move against me directly. I wish he hadn't done it. But there's a lot of things I wish hadn't happened, and to this point my wishing hasn't done a whole hell of a lot of good-"

He was babbling. Midna interrupted him.

"How long have you known?" she asked, her voice quiet in the sudden silence.

Link stopped talking. His hand drifted gently back to his side. Idly he wondered how much Midna suspected.

"Since Lanayru," he said in a softer tone. "Anyways that was when I first started thinking about it. It wasn't personal before- do you understand that? I meant to see Zant dead but I had no pressing reason to want to kill him myself beyond the purely altruistic. When he hurt you-"

A contemplative silence. Finally Link went on.

"-When he hurt you I suddenly had no long-term objectives beyond tearing out his throat. Love didn't come into it at that point, I think. Things are simpler through the eyes of a wolf. The wolf didn't even need to think about it. Maybe he knew before I did- I mean I knew before I did." Link stopped and shook his head to clear it. "It's not easy, being two things." Midna knew what he meant.

"It wasn't until afterwards that I began to wonder why- you were a friend, but, I mean, I hadn't known you much more than a few weeks. I suppose in the end it was just that I couldn't stand the thought of going on if you weren't there. The world without you-"

He swallowed. "When Ganondorf held up your helmet I knew that I would not survive the battle. I didn't particularly want to, either. Everything suddenly felt very- inconsequential. In the right circumstances winning stops being important. You know, I don't think I would have beaten him if I had thought there was anything to keep myself alive for. If I had been fighting for Hyrule he would have ridden me down on his way to power. Just like he did to Zant." The room was claustrophobic with ghosts. Link's hands grasped one another behind his back.

He was tense, thought Midna; he had been working too hard, worrying too much. She wondered when he had last slept through the night. She recognized his silence as the peace that comes over the battlefield on the night before the war starts.

Link sighed. "I haven't asked you."

"I know."

"I don't know if I ought to."

"I know."

Hesitation. Link closed his eyes and saw, in the darkness, the Mirror of Twilight. The bridge stretched out before him in its concentric porcelain beauty. It was the night when he had first crossed the conduit that bridged the gap between the two worlds.

The sages stood atop their alabaster pillars, masked and bearded, inscrutable. At his side Midna was lost in horizontal depths of the portal that she thought would take her back to the life she had once led. Nobody was paying much attention to Link.

Should he take the step? But after all he had driven the Twilight out of the world, with Zelda in her palace as the only casualty- and the world went on turning, did it not? He didn't even know if the princess was still alive. What was it for?

Yet there was such a thing as duty, and anyways he owed it to Midna- without her he would have been dead a dozen times over, and the twilight would have surged as far as Ordon. If he turned back now it would be cowardice; worse, it would be betrayal. Far worse, it would be Midna.

If he took the step there might be no going back. The mirror had been broken once and for all he knew could be broken again; if it was no power in Heaven or earth would bring him back to the world he loved. His bones would be buried in soil no human hand had ever cultivated, under an alien sky.

If he didn't take the step he would lose her.

Link closed his eyes and entered the Twilight.

"Do you love me?" he asked, and Midna fell silent. He heard the clink of pottery on stone as she rested the plate on the floor. He felt her presence in the air before him. He did not open his eyes.

Midna floated in front of Link, tears in her eyes. For the second time she was on the precipice between two possible futures. For the second time she was paralyzed. She had to tell him, could not tell him, and the paradox was tearing her apart.

"Link… I…"

Link had been wrong. No living being could be two things at once.

So she kissed him.

Her lips lingered, fractionally open, on his. No other part of their bodies touched. She could feel his breath, taste whatever it was that made him whoever he was on the salt of his skin. It was a promise, it was a surrender, and when Midna broke off and looked him full in the face his eyes were still closed and the astonished smile that lingered on his lips was daffily pleased. In that moment Midna knew that she could tell him.

"Oh," said Link, lost at sea. "So that's why."

"I love you," she told him. It was the truth.

They kissed again because, finally, there was nothing else left to do.