As Link and Zelda made their way back to their home in Hateno, Link stumbled slightly, fatigue catching up with him. Zelda glanced over, concerned. She saw a flicker of pain flash across his face before he made a low, involuntary sound, clutching his side.
"Link?" she asked gently, stepping closer to support him.
He tried to wave her off, but a sudden wave of pain hit him again, and he winced, unable to hold back a groan. His breathing grew shallow, and he pressed a hand to his side, his face pale and tense.
"Link, you don't have to bear all of this alone," Zelda said softly, her worry deepening. She guided him to sit on a nearby rock, letting him rest a moment.
Link sat down heavily, his eyes unfocused as the pain flared up again. He tilted his head down, letting out another quiet moan as he rubbed his temples, trying to will away the discomfort. He hadn't fully recovered from the battle with Ganon and all the strain it had put on him.
Zelda waited patiently, her hand resting on his shoulder. She had learned by now that Link would rarely admit to pain, yet she knew this time was different. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and looked at her, weary but grateful. He couldn't bring himself to say much, so he just nodded—a silent acknowledgment of her presence, her patience, her care.
They continued the walk home in silence, Zelda matching his slow, steady pace.
As they neared Hateno, Link's pace slowed even more, his steps growing unsteady. The afternoon sun beat down, and Zelda could feel the intense heat in the air, but Link was taking the brunt of it, his exhaustion making him vulnerable. Suddenly, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.
"Link!" Zelda knelt down beside him, her voice trembling with worry. She placed a hand on his forehead, feeling the overwhelming warmth radiating from him—he was suffering from heat stroke. His skin was clammy, and his breathing was shallow. He opened his eyes for a moment, but they were unfocused, darting around as if he didn't see anything in front of him. His gaze was lost, vacant, and his body limp.
Zelda gently brushed the damp hair from his forehead. "It's okay, Link," she whispered, trying to soothe him even though she wasn't sure he could hear her. She stayed with him, waiting for his breathing to steady.
After a few long moments, his eyes drifted closed again, and his breathing finally evened out, but his face was still etched with pain. Zelda took a deep breath, gathering her courage. If he was going to rest and recover, she'd need to get him home.
Carefully, she hoisted him up, allowing him to lean against her as they made their way slowly back to the house. Link's head lolled, and even in his sleep, he made soft, weary sounds, his body fighting against the pain and exhaustion that weighed on him so heavily.
Finally reaching home, Zelda gently lowered him onto his bed, covering him with a light blanket. She watched his face, hoping he'd find some peace in his sleep.
As Zelda adjusted the blanket over Link, she saw his expression twist slightly in discomfort. Even in his sleep, he seemed to struggle against some invisible burden. His breathing came in uneven, shallow breaths, each one sounding like it was an effort. His brow furrowed, and now and then, a faint, pained murmur would escape him.
"Rest, Link. You're safe now," she whispered softly, brushing a hand over his forehead. But it was as if his mind couldn't relax, still caught somewhere between exhaustion and the weight of his memories.
Hours passed, and Zelda stayed by his side, watching as his breathing would calm, only to become shallow again, his chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm. At one point, his hand twitched, and his eyes fluttered open, half-aware, unfocused. He blinked slowly, and she could see the confusion in his gaze, a flicker of recognition before he drifted back into a restless sleep.
