Bah, super rusty and lame. Need to pick up the pace again… :/ Anyway, a little snippet to go with this pic. Bah why cant I make cuts here? :l 

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Zelda paused as Link groggily nestled his head in her lap. He smiled with eyes closed as he cuddled closer to her, heaving a soft sigh in contentment.

They laid at the edge of a beautiful spring, her sitting at the rocky ledge and Link sunk shoulder deep in the soothing waters, leaning on her. She had taken to cleansing him to massage his sore muscles, enjoying their quiet moment together, but as soon as the cloth on her hand passed over that particular area, she couldn’t help her smile drooping.

It had never properly healed.

That nasty, red gash crossing his chest, permanently marring the skin. 

She could vividly remember how he had gotten it, having been present in the battle for every painful, agonizing minute, unable to turn away, unable to close her eyes, for whatever he saw, she saw with excruciating detail. A torture. 

He wanted her to see it. He wanted her to see her last sliver of hope die.

She had felt the Demon King’s sickening happiness when he had infused his blade with lightning and slashed at the knight with his ebony, serrated sword. She felt electricity crackling through her spirit as she watched her hero being slammed back into the liquid surface of their battleground, his body shaking with spasms from the lightning coursing his skin and blood pouring freely from the gash in his chest the chainmail had failed to stop.

The hit had almost killed him, and it would surely have if not for a pink fairy that had suddenly burst from Link’s pouch and had flown to his aid, batting her wings and scattering her healing magic on him. Before she was done, though, Demise had quickly slashed away the small creature, leaving Link’s wounds half healed. 

Link had rolled out of the way and sprung to his feet, his legs shaking with the effort as the fairy’s effect had barely touched him, but his face betrayed no tiredness, only anger and determination. He surprised her by quickly learning Demise’s tactic and suddenly using it against him. 

He had grown so much. He had become powerful, observant, strategic, resourceful.

She could feel the Demon King’s ire grow, but the battle quickly drew to an end and in a blink of an eye, Zelda found herself waking up in the middle of the Sealed Temple, back to her old self.

And it was not long after she saw him come back to her, a smile on his face upon seeing her safe and sound, his face, arms, and legs battered and blood everywhere, but with a grin that made her heart swell.

But she hated it. She hated that scar. It reminded her of everything he had to go through to save her and the surface world, selflessly sacrificing himself at every turn for her. He was oddly proud of that scar, and even excitedly recounted his battle with Demise to whoever asked about it, how he had parried and struck back and how relieved he had been when he had liberated her soul.

She felt the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes as a small smile cracked on her lips. She leaned her head down, planting a soft kiss on his head as he slept.

She wouldn’t ever be able to thank him enough, no matter how much she tried, and she thanked whatever divinity, be it her past self or whoever else, for having protected him throughout his journey and bringing him back to her safe and sound.