Now, that’s not to say those labels didn’t fit him exactly— because they did. He was a hero, he was a Link, he did save Hyrule. But to the same effect, he also wasn’t purely just a hero. He wasn’t just Link and he didn’t just save Hyrule.

He was so much beyond what he was made out to be.

Which was why it was so frustrating when he still wasn’t enough.

Time and time again he’d save people, slay the bad guy, relinquish evil only to be called upon again. His hands never left his sword and his mind never left the battlefield. He was a Hero, through and through.

Even if it meant he’d never be seen for what he could be if he’d just be laid to rest.

He was tired of falling short, too.

Tired of watching people and things he loves slip past his fingertips in the name of ‘Heroism’.

Time got to fall in love, despite his sourness.

Twilight had a wife and child, a whole life outside of purging darkness from Hyrule.

Wild got to enjoy his life in somewhat solitude, wandering around his Hyrule and working on his tech.

Even the newest Link got to keep some part of himself alive and whole.

So why couldn’t he just have someone something.

Sky thought it was because he wouldn’t let himself. That despite the many times hope has been ripped from his hands, it’s not Hylia that’s made him let go. Maybe it’s just that he stopped holding on. That he let go. That he made himself move on.

He wouldn’t let Sky be right.

Not this time, at least.

Not while you lay bloodied beyond recognition.

Not while malice chews at your flesh, and leeches off your life.

You were too good. To him, To the world.

There aren’t many people who would thank him so sweetly for things he did. There are fewer then who would throw themselves under the wide arch of a sword to keep him safe, even if he can’t be harmed in this state.

He was real to you.

Living and breathing beyond just being the spirit of a hero, he was real to you.

He knew you were too good to slip past him, to leave him with that sickening feeling in his gut at what he should’ve done. What he should’ve said.

He wouldn’t let himself lose you.

He couldn’t.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

And He didn’t.

Many potions and fairies later, you were stable. Drowsy as you were, your lungs drew breath and your heart limped along. You were weak, but it didn’t matter.

Awkwardly, he stood by your cot, staring down at you with a mix of thought and feeling running through his mind. Sorrow, anxiety and that odd feeling of anticipation you stirred in his gut.

He didn’t quite understand it— you. Your motives were foggy in his mind, your actions lacking any motivation he thought compelling enough to risk your own life. He didn’t understand the guilt he felt. He felt bad, of course. You were injured and he was the only one to blame. That he understood well and clear. But it was the heavy feeling, looking down at you now as your body struggles to work that he feels like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He’s scared.

“Enjoying the view?” You croak, sitting up and downing the glass of water set at your bedside. The amusement in your eyes has his heart running so familiarly.

“I didn’t know you could get more gross.” He rolls his eyes, shoving back the apologies as they claw in his throat. Slightly, he winces at the hostility in his tone. He never was good at letting himself be, was he? “But here you are”

“Oh that’s right, I forgot spirits can’t see their reflection” Your voice is light, as if genuinely recalling some lost fact. A light smile pulls at your lips, emphasising the teasing in your tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He squinted.

“Nothing” You shrugged him off. The room is quiet. Somewhere he can make out Link shuffling about, but the Inn is still aside from that. Dust dances in the last few beams of sunlight, and he mourns how long it’s been since he’s been able to recall such detail.

You tend to do that to him though.

“Y’know” He starts, picking at his cuticles “You should really give more warning before you do something dumb like that.” He pauses to look at you as you huff.

“Look, I’m fine-“ You start, throwing your hands up defensively.

“You almost weren’t” His voice is sharp, silencing any argument you might’ve brought, “You were in a horrible state. And I’m not quite sure if you haven’t realised, but you don’t get a second chance.” His voice begins to pick up his panic, quickening as he remembers just how much he’s lost to be here.

Things he wants you to never go through.

“You do something stupid like that and don’t stop to even consider what might happen. What you might be leaving behind. And I can’t always be there to hold you back. I can’t always be there to make sure you’re safe.” He sees the doubt in your eyes. The pleading argument that you’ll be ok. That he’s worrying too much. That he can let you go.

But for the life of him, dead as it may be, He doesn’t care.

“I know you’re capable. I know you’re strong. But you won’t always be strong enough. You won’t always make it out fine. And We-“ His throat seizes, and he lets himself just be vulnerable.

“I need you alive.” His eyes search your own for any response, any answers. Your pursed lips don’t move to form words, and he’s ready to just consider it a loss.

“So maybe let’s stop with the dumb choices, o-“ He doesn’t even get to finish his sarcastic remark before you tug him by the collar to your lips. Between every journey through hell and back, there’s never been more relief than in this moment. Your lips are cracked and bloodied, but sweet nonetheless.

“Only if you stop it with the sarcasm” you mutter against his lips.