Fic
Zelda and the god, with fierce_deity's permission.
Three days after it happens, Zelda returns to the heart of the forest, and takes the Master Sword from the tangle of vines that already cover the newly-turned grave. The god is harder to find, but she has time to seek him, while the smoke still rises in the north and the sky burns orange, reflecting the flames. Link is dead; Ganondorf will kill her at his leisure. It's the sky she feels she must hide from, the eyes of she who has always watched her.
She walks until days, and eventually weeks, feel like years. Through the field, through the desert, through the forest. When she comes to the mirror world, a weight seems to fall from her shoulders. She is safe here; she is out of their reach.
Her slippers are torn through the soles, her feet bloody. Her dress is dirtied and ragged. She can't remember the last time she ate. The only thing she carries, her sole possession, is the sword in her arms. Beneath the clock tower she collapses, her body wrapped around the sheathed weapon as though holding the one who used to carry it.
She wakes when night has fallen, dark as shadow, and he is there with her.
"Princess." He offers her a hand, and she lifts hers--her entire arm trembles; when did she become so weak?--to take it. The clasp of his fingers makes her hand tingle, and there is strength in her body suddenly; she can climb to her feet, and her legs tremble only slightly.
"Warrior." Her voice sounds as exhausted as she should feel. She knows what he is now--she thinks she knows--but she still calls him by the name he gave her, all those lifetimes ago.
His gaze moves over her implacably, taking her in--dirty, gaunt, shadowed. "You have come a long way to me." She doesn't think he means only her journey of the past three weeks.
She only nods, too tired even to be afraid of her own daring. "You know why I've come?"
"Yes."
"You know that I--that I am so tired--" Her voice breaks and she is horrified to realize that she might weep in front of him, him of all beings. She holds the sword to her breast and breathes until her composure is restored, until she feels she can speak calmly again.
"Do you remember when we spoke on Death Mountain, soon after we first met? In my first incarnation?" It was not long ago that she learned (relearned, perhaps) the trick of remembering her past lives. She still isn't sure that she doesn't regret it. "You suggested that there was in me the potential to be a warrior, like you. Was that only something you said in comfort or flattery? Or did you mean it?"
He eyes her, seeming rather amused by the question. "I do not speak to flatter, and I do not speak untruths. I meant what I said."
The next question is one of the hardest she has ever spoken. She forces it through her lips. "Then am I worthy of being yours?"
The silence draws out immeasurably as he gazes at her, expressionless as always. He knew the question before she spoke it, of course. But without the speaking there is no power. They both know that as well.
She breaks the silence at last, holding the Master Sword to him, an offering. "This is yours. I've stolen it from Hyrule, from the goddesses. If in return--"
He shakes his head. "It is not enough."
It feels like a blow--she staggers back as though struck, but he steps forward and seizes her wrist, bringing it up so that they can both see the mark of the Triforce on the back of her hand.
"This is what you will give to me. This, and yourself. I will not have you while you are still hers. Do you agree to this?"
Shakily, she nods. "I would not have left Hyrule if I were not prepared to renounce them."
There's a hint of satisfaction in his face, now. "When you die you will lose the self, as all souls do. You will never again be Zelda. And you will not die until I am ready to release you; your life is in my keeping now."
"And it will end? For Link, and--"
"Without Wisdom the trinity will collapse. There will be chaos for a time. It will be a very dark age. But that too will end, as all things must."
She breathes out, a long exhale almost like a sigh of relief. "Then I agree. I am--I am yours." Those words, too, must be spoken.
His grip on her wrist shifts to her hand. He holds it for a moment, examining the Triforce, then covers it with his palm.
"I accept the gift," he says.
When he burns the mark of the goddesses from her hand, she grits her teeth against crying out.
Three days after it happens, Zelda returns to the heart of the forest, and takes the Master Sword from the tangle of vines that already cover the newly-turned grave. The god is harder to find, but she has time to seek him, while the smoke still rises in the north and the sky burns orange, reflecting the flames. Link is dead; Ganondorf will kill her at his leisure. It's the sky she feels she must hide from, the eyes of she who has always watched her.
She walks until days, and eventually weeks, feel like years. Through the field, through the desert, through the forest. When she comes to the mirror world, a weight seems to fall from her shoulders. She is safe here; she is out of their reach.
Her slippers are torn through the soles, her feet bloody. Her dress is dirtied and ragged. She can't remember the last time she ate. The only thing she carries, her sole possession, is the sword in her arms. Beneath the clock tower she collapses, her body wrapped around the sheathed weapon as though holding the one who used to carry it.
She wakes when night has fallen, dark as shadow, and he is there with her.
"Princess." He offers her a hand, and she lifts hers--her entire arm trembles; when did she become so weak?--to take it. The clasp of his fingers makes her hand tingle, and there is strength in her body suddenly; she can climb to her feet, and her legs tremble only slightly.
"Warrior." Her voice sounds as exhausted as she should feel. She knows what he is now--she thinks she knows--but she still calls him by the name he gave her, all those lifetimes ago.
His gaze moves over her implacably, taking her in--dirty, gaunt, shadowed. "You have come a long way to me." She doesn't think he means only her journey of the past three weeks.
She only nods, too tired even to be afraid of her own daring. "You know why I've come?"
"Yes."
"You know that I--that I am so tired--" Her voice breaks and she is horrified to realize that she might weep in front of him, him of all beings. She holds the sword to her breast and breathes until her composure is restored, until she feels she can speak calmly again.
"Do you remember when we spoke on Death Mountain, soon after we first met? In my first incarnation?" It was not long ago that she learned (relearned, perhaps) the trick of remembering her past lives. She still isn't sure that she doesn't regret it. "You suggested that there was in me the potential to be a warrior, like you. Was that only something you said in comfort or flattery? Or did you mean it?"
He eyes her, seeming rather amused by the question. "I do not speak to flatter, and I do not speak untruths. I meant what I said."
The next question is one of the hardest she has ever spoken. She forces it through her lips. "Then am I worthy of being yours?"
The silence draws out immeasurably as he gazes at her, expressionless as always. He knew the question before she spoke it, of course. But without the speaking there is no power. They both know that as well.
She breaks the silence at last, holding the Master Sword to him, an offering. "This is yours. I've stolen it from Hyrule, from the goddesses. If in return--"
He shakes his head. "It is not enough."
It feels like a blow--she staggers back as though struck, but he steps forward and seizes her wrist, bringing it up so that they can both see the mark of the Triforce on the back of her hand.
"This is what you will give to me. This, and yourself. I will not have you while you are still hers. Do you agree to this?"
Shakily, she nods. "I would not have left Hyrule if I were not prepared to renounce them."
There's a hint of satisfaction in his face, now. "When you die you will lose the self, as all souls do. You will never again be Zelda. And you will not die until I am ready to release you; your life is in my keeping now."
"And it will end? For Link, and--"
"Without Wisdom the trinity will collapse. There will be chaos for a time. It will be a very dark age. But that too will end, as all things must."
She breathes out, a long exhale almost like a sigh of relief. "Then I agree. I am--I am yours." Those words, too, must be spoken.
His grip on her wrist shifts to her hand. He holds it for a moment, examining the Triforce, then covers it with his palm.
"I accept the gift," he says.
When he burns the mark of the goddesses from her hand, she grits her teeth against crying out.