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Zelda huffed. Link was doing it again, that thing she hated so much. He sat cross-legged at the creek’s edge a few feet down from her, one hand picking at the scars that crossed the left side of his face and neck. Every so often, he’d glance down at the water below his feet. His face dropped just a little more each time, and he’d immediately pick his head up to study anything else. His gaze darted from the rock walls to the house above to the sky, anything other than the water. A deep sadness pooled in his eyes, one finger now rubbing a scratch on his lip as if he were trying to get it off.
They had talked about this before. Somewhat. She hadn’t gotten him to really open up about it yet, so she wouldn’t have called their talks helpful. They never got very far, Link clammed up after a few too many questions and would only stare blankly through the floor. She didn’t like to pry when he so clearly didn’t feel like talking, but if Link had a self-image issue, then the best way to deal with it would be talking about it, right? It should be so easy.
Then again, she thought, he’s been alone for a long time. Whatever he’s been telling himself may as well have been fact after all this time with no one to tell him otherwise. There weren’t exactly many therapists in this calamitous version of her Hyrule. Zelda wondered what depths he had fallen to over the past year- and what it must have taken for him to keep pushing through the mire.
She couldn’t understand it herself. To her, pretty was the perfect word for her Champion. His movements were always elegant and calculated, like a trained dancer. His soft hair shone with a dull honey sheen and looked perfect no matter what he did with it. His eyes were clear and bright, his smile adorable, his laughter like small bells ringing- it was no wonder why girls would stop and giggle behind their hands when they passed through towns. The scars that criss-crossed his body didn’t exactly hurt either- she’d caught many a bored housewife staring from her window. How could he not see it for himself?
What Zelda could understand was feeling like something was wrong with oneself, something that couldn’t be changed easily, or even at all. She remembered all the lonely nights she’d spend crying into her pillow, begging Hylia for some sign that she wasn’t a complete failure. She wondered about Link’s home life, his childhood. She knew he had entered the military young- far too young. If he’s been a soldier for as long as he can remember, then maybe no one had really thought of him as anything other than just that. She wondered how long it’s been since someone he truly cared about complimented him on something other than his fighting skills.
Zelda watched Link continue to glance around the small grotto, the old scar on his lip now red and inflamed. She scooted closer to him and gently held his hand, moving it away from his face. He tilted his head slightly away from her, unconsciously trying to hide the starburst-shaped burns on his left side. A knot of sorrow welled up in her chest.
“You need to stop scratching. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Link looked down at his hand in Zelda’s, almost surprised, as if it was someone else that controlled his hands. He seemed to deflate, slumping in sadness. Zelda wanted nothing more than to shake him, to make him realize that he’s fine just as he is, so he can go back to being happy. But she knew she had to be more gentle. Maybe compliments would help?
“You look very nice today,” Zelda told him gently, wincing at such simple words. “I don’t know how you get your hair to be this fluffy.”
Link met her gaze and blinked in surprise, then stared at the ground. It was hard to tell, but she thought his eyes seemed just a bit more wet than usual.
“It really is unfair how pretty your eyes are.” She’d keep going, gently. “Your eyelashes are way too thick considering how you don’t use mascara or eyeliner or anything .” The hand she still held was clenched and trembling.
“You know, you-”
“No. I’m not.”
Zelda’s head jerked upwards at his surprisingly firm tone.
“You’re not what?”
Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he tried to find the right words. His mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. Zelda gently massaged the back of his hand and waited, patient.
“I’m not.. pretty.” He gulped in air, almost not seeming able to get enough. “I’m b-broken and horrible. I’m unlovable. Nobody is ever really going to care for me.. No one ever did. I’m just a tool or a prop for people to use.” The words seemed difficult for him to say, he was almost forcing them from his throat.
Zelda was astounded. He had never shared this much at once with her. She wondered if she had gone too far, catching him at what seemed to be a very vulnerable time. But she had to see him through, for all the times he’s done the same for her. She put one arm around him and pulled him close, rubbing between his shoulder blades.
“But you’re not broken, Link. You’ve been through a lot, but you made it. And you’ll always have friends to support you.”
Link only shook his head, tears now falling onto the pebbles at their feet. He went to undo the wrappings on his left arm, hesitating for a moment before continuing on, his shaking hand making him slip up in places. Zelda’s eyes widened and she bit back a gasp when she saw the bare skin beneath. It was a patchwork of burn scars and long-healed gashes, that was no surprise, but overtop lay a lattice of more recent scars lining the edges of the older ones. They looked rough and desperate, as if he had been trying to claw off the parts of himself that showed any imperfection. Link’s arm lay limp and exposed in his lap, his head hanging dejectedly. His breathing had become more uneven, and Zelda could hear a breath hitch every now and then.
“S-something’s wrong with me. I can’t stand myself anymore. I wish I could just tear my skin off and be a new me, but I can’t. I’ll always be haunted. I shouldn’t expect to be treated like anything more than- than just a prop.” Link was fully sobbing by now, and Zelda felt tears sting the corners of her own eyes. She had no idea he had been feeling like this- he must have been holding back for years- his experiences permanently scarring him even with his memory loss. She understood so well it hurt. She could see now that his fears and doubts were all bouncing off of each other, giving rise to something even worse for him. The black root curled within his heart only hurt him more as he let it prosper unchecked, slowly creeping out and strangling more aspects of his life. She couldn’t heal his wounds completely, but she would love to help him along the way, help him beat back that vile root. She gently pulled Link even closer, the side of his head resting on her chest below her jaw. His eyes were screwed shut and his whole frame shook violently. She ever so slowly reached down and held his arm, gently tracing his scars with her thumb. They lay there for a while, Link’s erratic breathing gradually slowing, his eyes halfway opening to watch her hand moving across his skin. She tenderly kissed the top of his head and wrapped both arms around him.
Zelda finally broke the silence that encompassed them.
“Maybe.. I’m broken too.” Link tilted his head and looked up at her, blue doe eyes wide. “I never felt like I was good enough for my father, the kingdom, my entire bloodline, even. I was in such a dark place for a long time. But my life began to change for the better once you were in it.”
She ran her forefinger lightly down the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think I was ever able to tell you this before, but you and all the Champions were the brightest part of my life for a while. And recently, with everything just so different, ” Zelda sighed, “you’ve really been the only steady thing in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I’m truly grateful to be with you.”
Link sniffed, blinking furiously, and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Zelda gave him a watery smile.
“It’s okay if you think you’re broken. Broken things can be fixed, and they’re all the stronger for it. Your scars only show you the story of how you got to where you are.” Link was silently crying again, his tears dampening her skin. She patted his shoulder. “You’ll always have people who would love to help you if you needed it. Whatever you may tell yourself, your friends care for you.” His breathing was becoming harsh again. She fell quiet, arms wrapped around him. She didn’t want to overwhelm him. They lay still beside the streambed for a while, and the late afternoon sun began to dip below the distant hilltops.
Zelda gazed down at Link, still unmoving, his eyes closed and his face flushed. She gingerly got to her feet, kneeling, and hooked her arms underneath his knees. Carrying him, she followed the winding path that led up to the bridge to Link’s house. Link had opened his eyes but remained silent and unmoving, watching leaves flit about in a daze. It had been a big day for him.
A horse nickered in greeting from the yard. Zelda pulled the front door open with her foot and went up the stairs, gently setting Link on the bedcovers. It wasn’t the first time she had carried him, but she was still surprised at how light her friend was. He blinked, sitting upright and leaning against the bedframe, unconsciously pulling a plush from the nearby hoard and hugging it close.
Zelda plucked a small wildflower from the bedside vase and placed it in the loose locks of hair above Link’s ear.
“You really do look pretty today.”
Link blinked up at her, managing a shaky smile. For a moment, she saw a glowing ember set in his eyes through the tears, and glimpsed his usual self, fighting back against the darkness that threatened to claim him. Zelda grinned and planted a quick kiss on his forehead.
“Thank you for trusting me,” she whispered before quietly heading downstairs to let him decompress. She sat at the hardwood table, sitting down slowly so as not to make too much noise, mulling over the afternoon’s events. She recalled his tears and distraught voice, the lies he had been told that his anxious mind had only amplified. She sighed, wondering at the horrors he faced within his own mind, and silently promised again that she would never abandon him.
“Okay listen up, I’ve got an idea.”
Zelda stood in front of the door, holding what seemed to be an empty milk bottle. Link was leaning on a chair by the table, bemused. His eyes were still red and puffy, but otherwise it seemed like he had recovered from everything that happened the previous day. Zelda noted with satisfaction that the sleeves of his nightshirt were rolled up.
“So the plan is,” Zelda huffed, “if I hear you say something mean about yourself, or if you catch yourself treating yourself like anything less than the king you are-” Link opened his mouth to protest, Zelda eyed him and pointed to the bottle. “-one rupee goes in the bottle. And, ” Zelda added, seeing Link wrinkle his nose in disapproval, “you have to say one nice thing about yourself, to cancel out the not-nice thing.” Link slumped.
“Really? I’m not good at that,” Link half-jokingly complained.
“Yes, really. And you’re down two rupees.”
Link dug around in his pockets, grumbling. He produced two green rupees and dropped them in the bottle.
“Good. Now say two nice things.”
She could tell that Link wanted to protest, but he seemed to think better of it. She could almost see the gears turning in his mind.
“Um… I’m.. good with animals, I guess… and I…”
Link’s head shot up. “I’m pretty good at shield-surfing!”
Zelda nodded approvingly.
“That’s a good enough start.”
Link seemed to visibly perk up. Zelda sat the rupee bottle on its own shelf in the kitchen corner.
“Hold on- what do we do with the rupees?” Link asked.
Zelda grinned.
“If you don’t have to give up a rupee for a week straight, then we take whatever’s in the bottle and go out for snacks.”
Link was sold. She could immediately tell from the renewed sparkle of excitement in his eyes. He smirked back at her.
“Alright, you’re on.”