Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda.

Soft, Almost Sacred
by Earan

She knows too well that he's going to leave.

He has nothing packed, but that's deceiving to the naked eye. She knows, because there is a faraway, nostalgic look in his eye whenever she speaks to him, like his mind is elsewhere. She doesn't know where, but she knows that's where he's going to go.

So when she hears that morning that Link is taking an unexpected leave and saying goodbye to everyone, she hides herself deep in the forest. He won't leave unless he says goodbye to her, so she does the childish, desperate thing to prolong his departure.

The wind is soft, almost sacred.

The view of the spring is obscured by the twisting trees, making their way to the heavens. And she cries like a little child when the memory hits her like an ironed fist; where Link, a little, 5-year-old, shorter-than-she-was Link, tripped over a hidden vine in the ground and she led him to this very spot… the beautiful scene stopped his cries at once, his bloody knee forgotten in an instant along with their 5-year-old troubles of the world.

She supposes that the Catastrophe has changed him, somehow. It changed her too, but for him, it was a different change. He returned with a blossomed maturity she never would've expected from him, calm, understanding sense of the world she nor the other villagers had. He had endured terrible things, she knows, but terrible to the point that he can no longer find comfort in her or the village… it makes her unbearably heartbroken.

Crunch.

She gasps, startled, before she can stifle it. She does not have to look up to know that she has been discovered.

Ilia.

She turns away. He sits down next to her.

Why won't you look at me?

How to answer… she doesn't know herself. Because it will hurt less. She tells him so.

I'm sorry.

The last words she had wanted to hear from him. She didn't know how much it would pain her to hear them, but it sounds crueler than she had thought.

He takes her hand. Don't, she hisses, snapping her hand away from his touch. She is suddenly angry because he has to leave, because his destiny does not consist of a comforting, simple life at a farm. She's angry at the gods who's chosen this spiteful fate for them both, and angry at him for playing along.

I don't… belong here anymore.

Have you ever? She asks. She wants to know the truth, no matter how much it will stab her, because she wants to know how much time he believes he's wasted with her. What used to be his subtle, mysterious smile is now something else for someone else… a mystifying, heroic something for the Royal Family and for the rest of Hyrule. Not for her. She tells him this before he can answer.

You'll always have the memories from before.

No, the answer is not good enough. He knows it because he refuses to look at her directly. It doesn't make her feel any better. This parting is too cruel like someone up there is mocking her… she is nothing and a nobody who lives in nowhere, nowhere special, not compared to a princess and the rest of the world who requires of his mysterious, heroic somethings.

I'm not coming back.

I know you're not, she bites.

He takes her hand again, but this time she doesn't draw back. His touch is more trying and it overwhelms her with a sadness she's never felt before… their fingers lace nostalgically and a vicious wave slams against her. Her throat feels constricted and she cannot expel air; instead, she expels tears.

She throws herself against him, buries her head in his chest, the sacred air around them seeming as contemptuous as the gods.

She is envious. Envious of the greater good that needs him more.

He pats her head like he did when her mother died, but there is more affection there in the way he runs his fingers through her hair in a fond pattern. It calms her down gradually, desperately wishing for the world and for time to stop at this moment, knowing she wouldn't care if she died like this.

It seems like a second and an eternity at the same time in that embrace, but he breaks the trance.

I'm leaving now.

This time, there is no anger or hurt, only acceptance. I know, she says quietly, but just a little longer.

He doesn't reply but gently takes her chin and bores his frighteningly blue eyes into her plain ones. She feels awed at such complexity she sees in them, and he inches closer, but she doesn't move, because they can't, not right when he's about to leave forever…

But he knows too, and their lips only graze each others', as non-existent and gentle as feathers blowing past.

She wants to, so badly… and he senses this weakness in her right away. He moves away from her, every motion he makes a break in her heart.

I should go.

She smiles at him sadly. Take Epona. It'll be faster… and that way, you'll never forget me, especially if you're riding with other girls on my horse.

It's a pathetic attempt at light-heartedness, but he takes it in all the same. He smiles back with the same sadness.

Fine, she surrenders to the gods, Have him, then…

They walk back to the village, their last walk. He holds her hand tenderly and it's all she can do to stop herself from surrendering to her tears, too. The villagers, they can all see the melancholy of this picture: they're so young, they would've had a lifetime…

Epona will be better off with him, she knows. She pats her head and kisses her for the last time, and hands her reigns to him.

Don't see me off, he says, when she follows him as he turns around.

But I have to.

And he lets her.

And then Fado comes, pleading with him. Where are you going? I don't understand –

Goodbye, old friend.

Goodbye? Goodbye? You are leaving? But you are coming back, right? This is so sudden, boy, have you given proper thought to this?

She wishes he would stop arguing with him. It's making this all so very painful, even more so, to cope with, because she has finally accepted that this must happen.

He mounts Epona and looks at her for the last time. There is something unique in his eyes this time. Regret, love, sadness, lament… her eyes blur in a watery vision and he's off, riding into the woods. He doesn't look back.

She wants to stare at him for as long as possible as the gods will allow her to. His figure gets smaller and smaller and unknowingly, she has a hand to her chest, her heartbeat in perfect rhythm with Epona's hoofs.

And then, as simple as a fruit fly disappearing off the face of the earth, he is gone.

That boy! Why, without an explanation, does he just get up and leave, just like that –?

She doesn't know how to reply. She looks down at the ground, but only just noticing the curious, familiar whistle around her neck.

Epona's whistle.

Epona's whistle that she had made for him… when had he placed it around her neck? She looks up to the spot where he disappeared, and her fingers grip firmly around the whistle.

He'll come back Ilia, you mark my words… he has no home, nowhere else to go!

She shakes her head, despite herself. He won't come back… because his home isn't here anymore.

If the gods were cruel enough to take him away, she wishes they would've been considerate enough to make her forget him. But she knows she never will, she'll cry herself to sleep every night to the thought of what could've been.

Ilia?

She stares down to the heartbroken faces of the children.

Why did Brother Link leave?

Will he come back?

She bends down to their level, hugging a weeping Beth, and somehow knows, she'll be alright.