Chapter Text
The stiff pains in his limbs seem to melt off as the evening wind brushes through him, even waning to a dull ache when he eases the horse into a trot.
The mottled-pink mare takes steering into her own accord, veering off from the dirt path ahead toward a more scenic route through the houses.
"Where are you taking me, Sunsi?" he asks in a whisper, accompanied by a heartless tug of her reins. "I don't think the inn is this way." Sunsi pays him no mind, however, and continues her descent into the heart of the village, farther and farther away from the torch-lit path.
Link sighs and sits back in resignation; he's too tired to mind at the moment.
He might be starting to sway in the saddle, but he's confident in his ability to stay alert, at least.
The surrounding sounds fill his aimless thoughts: clunking wooden chimes, gurgling streams peppered with a mysterious splash here and there, and the soft friction of leaves in the breeze—
"Oh!" Link barely catches himself when he leans too far off the horse, eyes snapping open in alarm. Sunsi snorts twice, as if amused to see him nod off, to which Link grumbles an intelligible retort.
To stay awake, he forces his eyes to wander, to assess the homes passing by, their elevated porches and sloping wood accents catching his attention. The large, dome-like roofs remind him of turtle shells. The rolling hills, shallow ponds, even the glowing water snails, tug at something deep within him. It's all familiar yet completely out of his grasp.
Finally, they break out of the crowded hills into a wider clearing that is lined with larger constructions before narrowing into another path.
Link spots the inn fairly easily, but it can only hold his attention for so long, what with the giant staircase that climbs several dozen meters from the ground to meet an enormous, lofty structure, its importance emphasized with hanging banners and bright lanterns. It's so demanding of his focus that Link doesn't even notice figure standing at the base of the stairs for a solid minute.
Not that they would've noticed me, Link realizes, watching amusedly as a white-and-blue clad man snores loudly against his spear.
Link tugs Sunsi back to a halt when movement snags in his periphery.
A woman, emerging from the dim, barely silhouetted by a single torch behind her. What is it about this particular night that seems to swallow as much light as it can? He doesn't know what brings him to do it, knowing that in this dark, she probably won't see him, but Link raises an arm for a single wave.
He sits there, rather foolishly, as she keeps on walking with no regard, past the guard that she gently nudges awake with an elbow, and up the steps.
Reins clutched in his fists, he's about to pull off towards the inn when he sees it, at the top of the stairs: bright hair bunching around a shoulder as she turns back for a brief glance. From this distance, Link can't make out her features, but he knows she's looking right at him, and his breath catches in his throat.
She disappears into a door, leaving Link in the loud night, warmed with the same odd relief he'd felt when he first stumbled into that riverside stable, after so many days spent alone, heart bursting to learn he was not, in fact, the last living being in Hyrule.
It's the outright opposite of loneliness, he thinks.