@knightstask wrote, ‘ i’m sick to death of everyone telling me how strong i am ’ @ aryll
Her leg is restless, bouncing even as she makes a conscious effort not to spill the bowl of soup that’s sitting untouched on her lap. The moment he stops signing, she ducks her head, turning her gaze away from him so that she can focus on anything aside from the look on his face. She picks out a singular flower, still standing tall at the bottom of a tree, that’s swaying calmly in the wind. Briefly, she finds herself wondering what it must be like to feel that complacent, only trapped in one state of being with nothing to do. And then she remembers the century she spent, alone in that shrine with nothing but her own thoughts to occupy her, and her heart aches in her chest.
He’s sick of being told that he’s strong. He’s sick of being the hero that everyone looks up to, the only person who can save these people who are relying on him. He’s sick of his responsibilities, of a title he never asked for. And why shouldn’t he be? He has every right. She had tried to pick up his mantle after Hyrule thought he had died, that’s true, but she could never imagine what it felt like to have all of that weight pressing down on her shoulders. Her initial thought is that he must have felt so lonely, striving to live up to an image that he could not possibly portray when an entire kingdom demanded different feats from you. But her thoughts after that are not so understanding. The entirety of her life, she has bent herself backwards to do right by those around her. She has only ever sought to help, even to the point she knows she becomes a nuisance to others. She had never cared if he was strong, only that he tried. Not even to do what was right by Hyrule, but what he thought best for himself. If he had told her he would rather give up and watch the kingdom burn, then that would have been his choice. But for him to sit there and tell her he was sick of his strength when people like her tried so hard only to be faced with the reality that there is nothing they can do…
“Then maybe you should have let the people who cared about you help you,” she snaps, finally, her voice strained. She picks the bowl of soup up and slams it down onto the empty space between them. In her heart, she knows it’s unfair of her to do this. He doesn’t remember. If anything, saying this much will only cause him more confusion and her more pain, but she can’t help the hurt that seeps into her voice. “Maybe if you hadn’t been set on abandoning the people you were important to, you wouldn’t have had to be the hero on your own. The people who were waiting for you to finish your duty, they didn’t care if you were strong. They just wanted you to be alright. You could’ve been a traveling merchant and they would’ve been just as proud. You brought shouldering all of that on your own onto yourself!”
Taking in a deep breath, she slams her hands down on the tree trunk and pushes herself to stand. She hates this. She’s so angry: she’s so lost. She doesn’t even feel like these words are hers anymore. Who is she since she woke up? Who is he? What are they doing? Why are they still here? He should be dead. They should both be dead. Gone, buried under a kingdom in ruins that Link had forgotten long ago and Aryll had given up on. This is ridiculous.
“I wish I were strong.” She reaches down to grab her bag and turns to face him, her expression a mixture of hurt and anguish. “I wish people believed in me, that I gave them hope! I wish I could’ve picked up the Master Sword and saved this place, my HOME. I know it doesn’t mean anything to you, but it means EVERYTHING to me. To us, to its people. But what can we do? Storm the castle and kill ourselves? End our misery? Being chosen was never going to be easy, but back then you made the choice to still try, even though it hurt you - more than just you. If you don’t want to fight for Hyrule anymore, what are you doing? It’s not your home. You don’t remember us. We aren’t your people and I am not your…” She cuts herself off, raising up a hand as she steels herself. Closing her eyes and exhaling, she regains her composure. “I don’t think you’re strong,” she concludes, but despite the harshness of her words, she seems like she’s about to start crying. “I think you’re empty.” She doesn’t even know if the loss of his memories had anything to do with that, anymore. Shaking her head, she throws her hand up, quickly making her way in the direction she’d been staring at earlier. “Give me a minute… I want some flowers…”