#quality?

She turned around and studied him, the pensive look in her eyes making Link stop in his tracks.

“They’re…” Zelda started, only beginning to fathom that perhaps it wasn’t a bit at all. “They’re our…children, don’t…” She breathed a heavy sigh, her voice starting to break. “Don’t you remember?” She said, her voice filled with pain.

And yet as much as he wanted to, Link had no idea how to remedy it but to fill the situation with all he had, a brutal and cutthroat honesty.

“I don’t,” Link said with shakes of his head.

Zelda closed her eyes with sharp exhale, panic settling within her chest and making itself comfortable, despite Zelda’s discomfort.

She fought tears as she looked up at sky, wishing she hadn’t taken their life together for granted, wishing they hadn’t decided to go hunting today, wishing that damn boar wouldn’t have rammed Link into that damn tree.

“I’m sorry,” she heard Link voice, but it was no use. She shook her head as she approached him. 

“The damage is done,” she said holding out her hand. “We may as well get a good night’s sleep no matter what the damage is.”

Link took her hand and somehow immediately felt secure, knowing that with her, he would be safe.

He looked down at the connection between them, the way she held his hand so tentatively and uncertain. He felt like he was in the body of a man she cared for a great deal, and yet even her name was gone from his mind. Zelda additionally kept silent, and her steps were steadily fast, as if she were attempting to walk away from her anger.

“Are we married?” Link asked, noticing the silver bands they both donned. Although as soon as the question left his lips, he regretting asking it.

“Yes,” Zelda said. “You proposed after the caves, and we were married within the week.”

“The…caves?”

Zelda sighed.

“It’s a long story.”

Link wondered at why she didn’t proceed to tell it as they made their way out of the forest and into a small town, full of villagers with genuine smiles and happy eyes.

They crossed a wooden bridge no sooner than a small little girl bursted out of the house they faced, running towards her parents. Because she expected Link to pick her up and spin her around, she bumped full-force into his legs.

“Daddy?” she said, looking up with big blue eyes at Link, who had no idea how to interact with children, much less believe that he had fathered one.

Not to mention two as a little boy exited the house with the baby sitter.

“Your dad just isn’t feeling well,” Zelda said to her daughter as she picked her up and carried her into house.

Link stood awkwardly outside it as he caught a bit of the conversation with Zelda and the babysitter.

“I’m going to have to ask you to watch the children at bit longer. Link has…”

Their words faded off and Link soon realized there was another child at his feet, this time the boy.

“Elyjah,” he guessed. “What is it?”

“You promised you would take me hunting the next time you went!” The boy said with hands on his hips. Link supposed it was time to improvise. He crouched down to meet the boy’s eyeline.

“It’s a dangerous place out there,” Link said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until you’re older.”

Link could help but stare at the boy, the way his eyes matched that of the woman with glimmering green eyes and yet the color of Elyjah’s hair matched his own. Link ran his fingers through it in amazement.

“How could I dare to forget this?” He whispered, the young boy not quite understanding his dad’s odd behavior.

“Link?” Link heard the woman prompt, his head popping up to see Zelda, although Link still didn’t know her name. She gestured with her head to follow him to the side of the house, and she didn’t wait before she walked.

“Run along,” Link said to the boy as he stood back up, it being strange that the child actually listened to what he said and did it.

Link followed Zelda with fear, knowing that every word out of his mouth broke her heart more. And yet, he didn’t even know how to lie, to tell her what she wanted to hear.

“What do you remember?” She asked, facing him with her hands hugging her chest.

“Not much,” Link replied. “Basically just how to talk and what to say and what things are, simple things like that.”

“What about your life?”

Link shrugged.

“A few flashes,” he said. “All you, but...it’s nothing coherent.”

Zelda walked forward and took his hands, refusing to meet his eyes and instead looking at the grass below them.

“The first time you lost your memory it was a byproduct of the restorative qualities of the Shrine of Resurrection. You could think of it as a…a, um…a price…that had to be paid, in simplest terms of course, but…this was a minor head bump. If it’s temporary, things should start coming back in at least twenty four hours.”

“And if they don’t?” Link asked.

Zelda smiled.

“Then I promise to tell you everything.” She said, meeting her forehead to his.

“Do you mind if we just sit here and think?” Link asked. “I want to at least try and remember your name.”

Zelda nodded.

“Of course,” she said softly, before detaching her forehead and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Link worried as they sat staring at the distant horizon that he wouldn’t remember this wonderful life that was apparently his.

And yet, an hour later, Zelda knew Link’s condition was only temporary when he uttered as sincerely as ever the name,