"May I ask...do you really remember me?"
Zelda's voice, so long echoing in his mind from afar, seemed part of a heightened reality coming from right in front of him. Dirt streaked her face, her shoulders slumped under the weight of fighting alone for one hundred years, but she stood before him. She was alive.
The sky cleared, unveiling a bright morning sun. Suddenly, all of the thoughts he hadn't allowed himself dwell on in his race to free her rushed to the front of his mind. The memories he'd hunted down gave way to a wave of emotion, impressions of a depth of feeling he'd once tried to push aside in the face of his duty and her position.
Zelda was smiling, but her eyes betrayed a hint of fear. The woman who had contained Calamity Ganon for one hundred years, who had faced down the monster with all the calm of the goddess Hylia, was afraid that he wouldn't remember her.
The Bow of Light dropped from Link's nerveless fingers. He stumbled across the few steps separating them, and gingerly reached up to touch his trembling hand to her cheek. Releasing the breath she'd been holding, she leaned into his palm and covered his hand with hers.
Link brought his other arm around her shoulders and rested his head against her chest as a torrent of memories swept through him. Zelda rubbed her thumb in soothing circles on his bowed neck, her white-knuckled grip on the hand still cupping her cheek the only outward sign of her own trauma. There would be time later to relearn each other, to develop their feelings, to rebuild Hyrule.
For now, all that mattered was this embrace.