Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
A Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword Story
My first thought was: I am dead?
The ground beneath me was soft and cool, the breeze above me warm and heavy with strange smells. I felt no pain, no worry. I couldn't remember my name, or where I was, but it somehow didn't matter, because there was the overwhelming knowledge that I was home.
I smiled, and found that I had lips to smile with. I stretched, and discovered my arms. My toes wiggled, and I felt that I had boots and socks and clothes. I felt the weight of my hair and the rise and fall of my chest and the beat of my heart, and I thought that yes, whoever I am, I must be dead; this feels much too good to be alive.
But before I could go too far with that, I felt an itch on my check, a rock beneath my leg. There was sound, too loud to be peaceful. I felt a belt, my belt, digging into my back. The feeling of homecoming faded with the illusion of death, and as it went it made way for curiosity. Where was I, if not dead and with the Goddess? Who am I, if I have a life to keep on living?
I tried to think, and the first thing that came to mind was a bird, swooping through a great blue sky. She was a beautiful Loftwing, caught somewhere between bright purple and pastel blue, and I knew that she was mine. From above, another Loftwing swooped down, a vibrant crimson, a rarity. Someone was riding it, but I couldn't see who. Both birds swooped closer, and I squinted to see the rider. I could feel my memories pulling at the edge of my mind. He was blurry, but if I could just remember his name…
He was so graceful, and carefree. He and his bird moved as one, and the bird I knew to be mine flew away, away to search for me. I wanted to tell her that I was there, that I was fine, but the rider distracted me. Bits of him began to come into focus; blue earrings, the tips of blushing red ears, and pretty, soft-blue eyes.
You, who I've know since childhood. You, with your stutter and your bashful habits. You sleepy at the table, you happy on your bird, you sad behind the Statue. You at my birthdays, you at sword practice, and the most important of all, you, the moment I realized I loved you back.
It was the night before the Wing Ceremony, sitting on the floor of my room, embroidering my white sailcloth with a blue thread I had picked. It was such a pretty blue, my favorite color. I had showed you the spool when I picked it out a few days before hand, telling you that it was my favorite. You had been confused, and asked me why. You had said, "You're so energetic, though. I thought you'd have liked the bright pink." You pointed out a spool, almost the same color of the dress I had made for the Ceremony. I liked that color, but there was something about the blue. "I don't know," I had said, "There's just something I like about this color…" I trailed off, and looked up to see that you were smiling at me, and the look in your eyes told me you weren't even aware you were doing so.
This had been happening more and more often. When you realized what you were doing, you looked away, and the tips of your ears heated up into your signature blush. Your hand went up to scratch the back of your head, and you quickly changed the subject. I realized, at that moment, that you liked me. I don't know why it had taken me so long, but I realized it right there, and for once in my life, was at a loss for what to say. I decided to pretend like I hadn't noticed, that I hadn't read the signals right that time. For so long, I had looked at you as my friend, my very best friend. I protected you, helped you, and in return you calmed me and balanced me. But did I love you?
But that night, the night before the Wing Ceremony, just as I finished the bird embroidery on the sailcloth, I realized why that beautiful, pretty blue was my favorite color.
It was the color of your eyes. And I loved you too.
Soon after that memory, the rest came flooding back as well. My life, my father, my friends and my enemies, my strange dreams, and the late afternoon flying with you. The moment that had been almost perfect. What little peace and safety I still felt in me vanished when I remembered what happened to cut our almost-perfect moment short.
I had fallen beneath the clouds, and you had dove down after me.
I am Hylia. And that was the moment I found myself in the place I had dreamed of only in nightmares, the paradise that had crept into my mind on the darkest of nights, the images always laced with an unknown sadness, which, as I learned, was the grief of a Goddess's failure. The grief of my failure.
And as I learned the true weight of my sins, of my failed attempts to protect my land and my people, I grieved, and felt the person I had been, felt Zelda, fade away into the past, buried beneath thousands of years of regrets.
But when I see you, I would resurface. For a moment, I am Zelda, only seventeen, deeply in love, and living out the adventure I've always wanted. I was your protector, and now I watch you grow confident, watch you learn and bloom into a man I never dreamed you could be.
I now stand inside the temple that will someday be sealed, explaining to you my plot as the Goddess. Explaining how I used you for my own purposes, making you fall in love with me so that you would do the duty I knew you would never do otherwise. I watch your heart break, and feel my own heart break in two. I see a million emotions flicker behind your eyes, and I feel so broken inside, like there is a shard of glass for every bit of pain I've caused you tearing me to shreds, but I don't have the pleasure of dying. I must stand and take the pain, because it's what I deserve. I tell you that I will be asleep, but the whole time I will see nothing but your face, the hurt and betrayal burning behind those blue eyes I adore. It's the punishment I deserve. A thousand years of watching you break, knowing that I had been the one to build you up in the first place.
But know this: somewhere inside me, I am Zelda. I am the mortal girl who fell for the quiet, calm boy who's ears turned red when he blushed, who played with his earrings when he was thinking, who could sit for hours staring at the sky and make me wonder what you saw there and wish to see it too.
Somewhere inside me, I love you, Link. I am Zelda, and I hope to someday be woken to a beautiful morning by my knight with the pretty blue eyes.
A/N: Hey guys. I have been having a lot of trouble with chapter nine of my story Sky Child, and was trying to think of chapter ideas, when this popped into my head. It carries heavy inspiration from Jodi Picoult, seeing as I just finished her book Handle With Care, the second book of hers that I've read.
It does reflect the tone that I am going to set for this scene in Sky Child. I will be changing a lot of dialogue to make it a lot sadder. This also is a stand-alone story that I hope someone enjoyed reading and understood without having to have read Sky Child. I hope you enjoyed it, and I wish you a happy day.