#pre totk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haste-waste · 10 months

Text

Waiting

In which Link has it bad.

For @zelinkcommunity 's Zelink Week 2023 day one prompt: Yearning. Read on AO3 here.

--------------------

"What do you think?" she asks.

Zelda sits at the table as he prepares their dinner in advance. She's removing rice from the stalk to complement the humongous mushroom cap he's fileting in their kitchen. It's a nice afternoon in Hateno Village, and she is here, living with him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He's still not used to this. She's asking him what he thinks? Even after one hundred years it still amazes him. She is one of few people who takes his thoughts into consideration and values his words, whether they be eloquent or otherwise.

He ponders her request for a moment, and switches to a smaller knife to remove the woody ends of the mushroom stem. "I think that's a proposition for Purah."

"I respectfully disagree. You've had far more practical field experience with the Sheikah Slate than she has. But if you truly think so, I will ask her."

Zelda wants to implement "stress tests" to the slate. Not the actual body of the slate, mind, but the potential and scope of the runes.

The conversation lulls for a short time. Then, she says something he doesn’t expect: "In all actuality, your observational skills are beyond my own when it comes to kinetics. Of course, your skills as a warrior are a factor. Your inherent ability to manipulate a multitude of objects with such precision over distances great and small is absolutely fascinating."

He scrapes the sliced mushrooms into the cast iron pan with the unsharpened edge of the knife. They sizzle enticingly and absorb the oil as he tosses them around the pan with a wooden spoon.

He's a bit taken aback by Zelda's commentary. It's not that big of a deal, it's just something he does. Things move all the time. With enough practice, she could fell a deer across Retsam Forest with the right equipment or skip a stone across Hateno Bay. She's a quick learner, a trait he greatly admires.

But he doesn't know what to say, so he shrugs. She gives him a long look. He knows she's planning something by the way her eyebrows shift. Then she grabs a dinner roll from the basket on the table and tosses it to him. Unthinking, he catches it.

He gives her a dry look, but she has other things in mind. "How fortunate that the door is open. I challenge you to hit Karson in the head with this from the doorframe."

"Do you have something against Karson?"

"Not at all! He does tend to laze about our front lawn, though. Maybe a delicious surprise will do him some good."

Something in his chest flutters at the sound of "our front lawn." So, he acquiesces. He takes the pan off the heat. Then, he gives a playful smile as he struts to the door and eyes his target. Karson sits cross-legged near the cooking pot by the towering oak tree. 10 meters, perhaps? That was manageable.

He yeets the bread perfectly—too fast to make a clear, sailing, parabolic arch, but not hard enough to leave a bruise. He hears Zelda gasp excitedly (Oh!) as the roll bounces with a thonk off of Karson's forehead.

"Hey!" he shouts. They both freeze in anticipation. Uh oh. He sees the both of them standing dumbly in the doorway, obviously watching.

He looks down, seemingly in slow motion. Then, his face lights up like a child at winter solstice.

"Thanks for the bread!" he calls, giving a friendly wave. Amusingly, Bolson attempts to snatch it from him as Link gives a half-hearted wave and shuts the door. Satisfied, he returns the still-hot cast iron pan to the stove and continues sautéing the mushrooms.

"I cannot believe you actually did that," Zelda says, heaving the rice pot into place on the stove. Anything for you, he thinks. He moves out of the way as she stokes the coals within, shutting the door with a clang. Then she brushes her hair out of her face. It frames her chin beautifully. "It was a perfect throw. Excellent work!"

"I try," he says, flustered by her continued praise, and extinguishes the urge to kiss her cheek.

--------------------

He wants to kiss her all the time.

Goddesses, does he want to kiss her.

He wants to kiss her when she finishes writing in her journal and beams at him from the loft. Or, when she makes tea in the morning and groggily places a cup on the end table near his armchair, made just how he likes it. He'd love to after she makes a sudden breakthrough with her research, or when she is always surprised to see a cup of water after she cuts firewood. He wants to kiss her when she gives him that look, like she's been gazing at him for a while over a book cover but tries to be nonchalant. He wants to when she is reminded of something from before and she clings to him as proof he's still here and breathing. He wants to after their ancient tech hijinks and she's laughing maniacally after something of Purah's inevitably breaks or explodes. Or when she leans on his shoulder after listening to him share his thoughts and feelings. Or, when she holds him after he remembers something from before or has a fleeting, vivid nightmare. But especially when she smiles warmly at him while he cooks, and just does his thing.

But the moment never seems right.

He fears that it may be the wrong time, or she doesn't want to, and a whole other list of reasons that involve her comfort and boundaries. The few times they had were brief, either on the cheek, forehead, or the exceedingly rare chaste goodbye kisses they share when one of them leaves on a journey somewhere. Besides the one wonderful time on Tuft Mountain where he confessed and she reciprocated, it's been slow. Which is fine, truly. He's happy to have her in his life at all, so he won't complain. He doesn't want to, or even need to complain. He is happy, but he's also curious at the same time. Those two ideas can coexist, right?

Was it the right time to be more romantic for her? How does he even go about this, the whole idea of kissing her?

What would it be like, though?

He's pondering this as they walk back from the Hateno ancient tech lab. The nights are growing chillier as they enter autumn proper.

"Can you believe it? Purah was thrilled to have the data we collected from the slate. We're one step closer to making another one! Oh, I'm so excited—"

She's sunny, a contrast to the dusk which settles around them. They pass a blue flame lantern, and it casts wonderful shadows on her face that emphasize her jaw. He'd like to kiss her there too, if he's allowed.

"We'll have to gather more, of course. Are you alright with that? It may be more extreme, like hurling boulders and the occasional moblin, if there are any left."

Any left? She sees his confusion. "You're incredibly thorough when it comes to pest control."

He supposes so. The tangible delight of freezing moblins mid-swing with Stasis and watching them careen through the air by their own club is entertaining, to say the least. Or, that one time he blasted a boulder from Hyrule Plateau all the way to the desert. He'd like to see her do that, why hasn't he thought of mentioning that yet?

"That'd be fun." He means it, and she is delighted. "But make sure I'm not a test subject this time."

Her entire body cringes. "That pains me still. I've never regretted anything more in my life."

"I mean, it was only a few feet. I've had worse." He shrugs, remembering the small explosion after an ancient tech malfunction. One time he slipped while shield surfing Mount Hebra and fell for nearly a mile. He still wonders how he's still alive, Mipha's grace or otherwise—

She's oddly quiet. "I bet you have."

Oh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's quite alright. Forgive me," she says gently. Then she smiles to herself. "Even before, you took heavy hits. You tend to fly like a rag doll. It's still a shock to see, but you're unfathomably resilient."

He laughs. That was true. Again, he wonders how he's not dead but stops as she shivers.

This is one of the rare instances where she actively walks in front of him instead of by his side. So, he closes the gap, concerned. She stares off into the distance for a moment.

"Are you alright?" His voice is soft.

"Yes, why?"

"You were shivering."

Her expression before was one of remembering. He can tell something's bothering her, but what?

"It's a bit chilly this evening, that's all," she says while rubbing her hands together. "I was so excited to get to the lab, I forgot my cloak." Her tone is lighter, so she likely means it. "But yes! On my life—" his heart pangs at that, "—you will not be an accidental test subject. Unless you want to be a test subject, but that is your sole decision and we will have to adjust the experiment to keep you safe—"

She pauses as his cloak settles over her shoulders. "Here." He can't have her being cold, she's sensitive to it. Besides, they're not far from the house. He continues walking and stops when she doesn't follow.

Several scenarios come to mind as to why she hasn't. He instinctively checks their immediate surroundings. His hand itches for the sword on his back. Focus. No humanoid shadows in the trees. No monsters in the field or above their heads. He angles his head and sees nothing suspicious. Then, back to her.

Is she blushing? It's hard to tell. For one so open with her thoughts, she can be hard to read at times. Maybe there's a hint of one at the corners of her cheeks. But maybe he's wishing for it. Who knows. If he places his hands on her cheeks like he's been wanting to for months, he could find out...

"Thank you? That's very kind of you. But won't you be cold?" she asks, hesitant to adjust it properly around her.

Seeing her in his clothes makes him feel far warm enough. So, he walks back to her and fastens the cloak around her neck—another place he'd love to kiss—bundles her up and turns to continue forward toward home where stew should be ready. He hopes she likes it. It's a mix of lentils and roasted mushroom, with a gravy made from the unsweetened milk of a palm fruit. It's savory and filling, which is something they both tend to enjoy. "I'm fine. Besides, we have a warm meal waiting for us at home."

"Ah yes, priorities." Her steps are as light as her demeanor. To his complete surprise, her hand wraps around his own as he watches her settle into the cloak. Satisfied, she matches his pace, and they continue the walk home in comfortable silence.

She's been quiet since they arrived. The kitchen is bathed in golden light from the overhead lanterns. Their home is far more comfortable since her arrival. Well, his home. He'd like to call it theirs, but he'll have to ask her about that at a later time. For now, he hums part of a tune that Kass would play in the evenings at Rito Village as he stirs the stew, waiting for the rolls to warm again in the clay oven.

He turns, and the table is set. "Thank you for loaning me your cloak," she says, placing down a final dish for some butter. "I'll hang this up."

He nods. "Dinner's almost ready," he announces after eyeing the stew.

"—Oh! Right." Confused by her tone, he turns, but she's already in her seat across the table. Two patches of red hint at the corners of her jaw as she draws her hair behind her ear, fidgeting.

...Cute.

He gives her an eyebrow and sets the stew on the table. He savors the look on her face when she takes the first bite, nodding slightly with her eyes closed. She gestures with her spoon, then digs in. Success. They enjoy a quiet dinner.

He hums again while they do the dishes. He places the iron pot back on the stove for it to fully dry. He's charmed to see Zelda with her sleeves pushed up, scrubbing away. She has nice arms. She has nice...everything. Something's on his mind, though. Zelda has been notably quiet since the walk home.

"What are you thinking about right now?" he inquires. She's the one who usually asks that question.

A dish is placed in his hands. She's digging at the stubborn film of dried gravy that lines their bowls. Her eyebrows knit in concentration.

Then a wonderful smile graces her face. "Honestly? I'm incredibly happy to be here with you."

It takes a moment to process this. By now, she's finished with the dishes and hauls the water outside.

Upon her return, she takes the towel from his hands and dries her own. She's so close and he just wants to…

—What she just said was so nonchalant, like it was a definite fact, a universal truth.

"Same here," he says far too inarticulately. She looks down at him in vague confusion as he stands directly in front of her. "I'm happy that you're here too." And her smile returns. So lovely. He can't spit the rest out. He's getting better at saying what's on his mind, but he stumbles when he wants to most. I'm happy to be anywhere with you. She squeezes his wrist with her slightly damp hand.

She's up in the loft now, continuing her mission for the past few weeks—pouring over several years of Purah's research notes. He can tell that she was itching to get back to work. He doesn't know how she can do that for hours. Sure, ancient technology is fascinating and filled with secrets. Purah's handwriting, on the other hand, while flawless, is tiny and the pages are dense. Reading that for hours would give him a migraine. He’s happy that he researches the ancient histories instead.

He watches her from below as she writes. He visualizes the ancient gears turning in her head. How she fits so much knowledge in there, he doesn't know. She is like a sponge, soaking up information from anywhere and anything. He's only seen brief glimpses of her journal, but it's just as detailed as their long conversations as they travel, work, and live. There's a word for people like her, and like her mother. Was erudite the term Mum used for the Queen? He frowns, trying to remember. Zelda definitely has her mother's brains.

She brushes her hair behind her ear again, contemplating for a moment. He's drawn to the elegant slope of her neck. What would it be like to kiss her there, just below her ear? Would he be able to discern the subtle notes of fragrance from the soap she uses? Would he hear her heartbeat? The sound of her sighing?

...He needs to empty his head.

"I'll be out back," he calls upstairs.

"Have fun!"

He heads outside, taking his cloak to fend off the chill. He goes to put it on but stops as he realizes that it smells different. It smells like her. Clean, fresh. Floral, like blue nightshades. Before, it didn't smell like much of anything. Now, he can't stop thinking about it. Every time he moves he can smell her. It's really nice, actually.

He goes to the small stable by the house and checks on their horses. Epona is out grazing near the small pond behind the stable. Equs, the chalk-white descendant of Zelda's old horse, mows down his pile of hay. He gives his snout a pat and continues on. He was a pain to tame, but now he's a likable and reliable horse. Epona likely whipped him into shape. She's a good influence.

He returns to the yard. Epona trots over and butts her head into his chest.

"Hey! Whoa, girl—" it's almost like he can read her. She's sniffing around his pockets. "No apples today. But I do have this for you and the big guy." He presents a humongous, tasty looking carrot. She takes it happily and chomps away. She follows him back to the stable as he stocks it up for the night, giving the other carrot to Equs in the meantime.

"Goodnight," he calls. They look at him, almost like they know the meaning behind his words. It's a nice thought, but they're still horses.

Next, he investigates the apple tree behind the house. It looks like he picked most of them, but he wants to be thorough before the frost sets in. He finds a few up on the highest boughs. Then, he clambers down to a lower, sturdier branch and sits.

It's quiet. It's a bit chilly. All in all, a beautiful night. The air is crisp, making a wonderful rushing sound through the leaves that will likely begin to drop in a week. He can't smell winter in the air. He can only smell the traces of her lingering on his cloak. He wraps it around him a bit more, closes his eyes, and listens.

Nights like these are great for clearing the head. It's easier and also harder to bring his mind to the earth, especially since Zelda lives with him now. They're living together and experiencing what "normal life" is like. He never would have dreamed of this a century ago.

Not even in his wildest fantasies did he ever think of peaceful domesticity. He didn't have much time, if any, to fantasize about any sort of future with her. He could only replay scenes in his head where she gave him affection, like the time on death mountain where she pushed his bangs back, and when she held his hands after giving him custom made gloves for his birthday.

His other fantasies involved a life outside of fighting. He once wanted to own and run the pub with his grandparents. Or be a ranger, like Mum. Or be in the royal guard, like Dad. Well, he was the latter, in a way, but with Zelda as his Queen. Maybe he would settle down with a husband or a wife outside of his duty in that future that is now the past.

He finds himself reminiscing. He had a partner once, a fellow knight named Pietr a few years before he became Zelda's chosen knight. He was from Lurelin, his first kiss, and his amicable (and only) ex. They were young, still children, and they were happy. Pietr was wise to break it off because of their changing duties. Not even a year later he found himself becoming Zelda's chosen knight. At least Pietr survived the Calamity. It sounds like he had a good life, actually: his great-grandson Tauro is living proof of that.

But if Mipha knew about Pietr or his feelings for Zelda before the Calamity, she would have been devastated. But there's nothing he could do. She was his calm, poised, and far cooler partner on the battlefield and childhood friend. He loved her too in many ways, yes, but marriage? He's thought long and hard about this before during his travels. Not marriage. He wouldn't be able to provide what was required by her birthright. He would have died far before she did. She was his first love, but that changed as soon as the sword called to him at 13. Why Mipha is on his mind, he doesn't know. It's not painful anymore. She's gone, it's the past, and he's moved on. He hopes, wherever she is now, that she's happy and at peace along with Urbosa, Daruk, Revali, and his loved ones.

About a half hour later, he drops down from the tree, his thoughts released to the earth and the wind. He feels a bit lighter.

After practicing some swordsmanship, he investigates their firewood reserves beside the house and is proud to see Zelda's handiwork. They'll be set for several weeks. The stars glimmer above him and he spots a shooting star.

He doesn't wish on it; he has everything he could possibly want. Someone else can have that wish.

It's very dark now. He heads back inside.

"Hullo," he says, kicking his boots off near the door.

"Hi," he hears from upstairs, her tone less enthusiastic and more tired. She’s always one to keep busy.

He hesitates before removing his cloak, wanting to smell her for a little while longer.

He relaxes in his reading chair and reads a heavy book that Paya loaned him on ancient Sheikah tales. The lore of Hyrule has always fascinated him. He's glad it also helps Zelda with her research. Her specialties are within the royal family, while his is broader. It's the opposite with ancient technology: he’s all too familiar with the royal guard class of weapon while she knows practically anything about everything. He's glad that they find ways to help each other to solve some ancient mysteries.

The candle is burning low by the time he finishes a long chapter about a third Yiga invasion several hundred years ago. He's a bit tired, but not enough to sleep. 100 years of sleeping will do that to someone, he supposes.

It's nearly silent in the house now. His ears strain, trying to pick out the faint sounds of Zelda's wax pencil or beloved green ink being scratched against a page. He turns down the lanterns from the ceiling (the contraption Zelda made to do this is genius) after getting ready for bed.

He heads up to the loft.

Zelda has fallen asleep at the desk. Her face is squished against the open pages of her journal, and her wax pencil barely stays within her relaxed grip. The flicker of the candle gives her hair and face a warm glow. His heart melts.

Her hair is woven gold, a crown upon her head—even though she refuses to wear her birthright.

…Just like she refuses to rest when she needs it most.

He's hesitant to touch the gentle slope of her shoulder, but he does anyway.

"Zelda?" His voice is soft. She doesn't respond. He gives her a tiny shake. "It's getting late."

"Hm?" Her grip on the pencil returns.

"It's almost midnight," he says.

"Just a bit longer—" she slurs, rubbing her face with her arm and righting her posture. "I have to get this done."

"Don't push yourself too hard," he adds, squashing the urge to kiss her cheek.

He goes to his Kakariko-style futon on the floor, with Zelda's nearby. Part of him wonders if her bedding smells like her too.

...He's more tired than he thought.

It's kind of funny. Even though they live together and have confessed their feelings to each other, they don't share a bed. They don't share much affection, really. He doesn't mind, though. In fact, his actual bed hasn't been used since the few days before they defeated Ganon together. He wanted her to have it when she moved in from Kakariko, but she adamantly refused. Neither of them would budge, so this was the best compromise: two comfy futons on the floor. The bed is for guests. Besides, if she took the bed, he wouldn't be able to see from a distance how serene she is when she sleeps, just like a century before. It might be nice, though. But that's for a future time.

He takes out his hair tie and brushes his hair back, putting the comb back on top of the bedside table. He hears a thud.

Ah, she's fallen asleep again, judging by her posture. She jolts awake, shakes her head, and stubbornly continues to work.

"You should sleep," he says, resting his forearms on top of his knees. He perches his head on them to watch her.

"There's still so much—" she replies after a while. "The more I do, the closer we are to understanding things."

Something in her tone reminds him of before. It's the same determination that almost made her freeze to death or drown in the sacred springs. Her tone is the same from those quiet nights in her study, using the little time they had to try to stop Ganon's return. Is their project eating away at her?

"I'm losing time," she says, picking up her pace. This confirms his worries.

He pads barefooted across the floorboards to the desk. He's tired too, but not as much as she is. She was up before dawn this morning. He allows his fatigue to lessen the iron grip on his affections.

He's standing to her right. He drapes his left arm across her shoulders and lightly pulls her into his side.

"There's always tomorrow."

He drifts his thumb across her shoulder. He's delighted when she relaxes into him. He can catch hints of her floral soap from here. It's a comfort. He stares at the stack of books and the flickering candle, enjoying the warmth and the closeness.

"There's always tomorrow," she asserts after a time.

He continues drifting his thumb, trying to memorize the feeling of her weight resting against him. She sighs, relaxing even more, almost as though she melts into him.

"Come on, time for bed," he says, but she doesn't respond. He looks down at her.

She's asleep.

Aww!

He makes a mental note to keep an eye on her on late nights like these. He doesn't want her late night working to become a bad habit.

"Zelda," he says playfully, giving her a little shake. She doesn't awaken. Her breathing pattern confirms it. He's learned to keep an eye on that during the nights he doesn't feel like sleeping. Usually her breathing changes before a nightmare. Since the project started, she's had more than usual, the ones where she tosses and turns, but never enough to wake. The waking ones were far worse—the first few months after Ganon's defeat were brutal on her. He's been worried, but they don't seem to affect her when she wakes. He secretly fears that they do.

Fortunately, her breathing is slow and measured. It would be a shame to ruin this rare chance at deep sleep by waking her.

She's completely out. So, it wouldn't hurt for him to try something he's been wanting to do for over 100 years.

He moves the chair out from the desk as gently as he can. Carefully, he scoops her up into his arms. Her head rests between his collar and shoulder. Her breath flutters on his neck and all he can smell and feel is her and wow—he can't help pressing his face into her soft, sleek hair.

He stands there, just for a moment, and takes everything in.

This is far better than he imagined.

As much as he wants to, he doesn't overstay his welcome. He takes a few steps over to their futon and kicks out her comforter with his foot. He begrudgingly rests her down on the mattress. She's still in her day clothes. He tucks her in, admiring the delicate curves in her wrists, the shadows under her eyes, and the serenity on her face.

What a marvelous gift it is to have her here. How wonderful it is to share each day with her in peace and safety. All the hardships they faced over a century were worth it. Everyone in Hyrule can rest as easily as they can now. All thanks to her. He just tossed Ganon around a bit before she obliterated and sealed it off for eternity. The thought makes him smile.

He's stretched his luck far enough today. He could stand to stretch it a little more.

Sneakily, he places a kiss upon her hairline.

I love you, he wishes to tell her. He thinks about it instead. She'd never hear it, even if he said it aloud. She must know by now. He doesn't know why he hasn't said it to her again after all this time. Maybe because the time wasn't right? Anyways—

Satisfied, he blows out the candle on the desk and returns to bed. He watches her chest rise and fall as moonlight emphasizes her silhouette. His eyes close.

--------------------

When they open, it is still dark outside, likely just before dawn. There is a low, golden glow beside him. He rubs his eyes. Did he leave the candle burning? No...he's immediately suspicious and worried, and turns to Zelda.

Her breathing is ragged. Her bedding is a twisted, constricted mess around her. She's curled on her side with an arm partially extended toward his mattress. Her hand flickers with golden, holy light.

Oh no.

He hasn't seen her like this in months, since the springtime right after Kakariko at the very least. Alarmed, he immediately crawls over to her just as she begins whimpering under her breath. He has to wake her up. Not doing so prolongs her suffering. He catches whispers of phrases and her hand glows more intensely. She looks sickeningly pale, the thin sheen of sweat on her brow worsening in the washed out moonlight.

She tosses and turns, lying supine. Her jaw is rigid and her face does not hide her distress. "Link—" her voice is filled with despair as she thrashes and shudders. "—Save yourself." He falls to his side, supporting his weight with his elbow, and leans near her in an attempt to reach for her shoulder. He doesn't quite make it—she jolts awake with a pained gasp. "NO!"

Her eyes darted frantically around the room, disoriented and terrified.

"Are you–augh!"

She crushes him against her chest.

She clutches blindly and a trembling hand lodges itself in his hair, keeping him against her. It does not hurt. The side of his face rests on her pillow, away from her own. She shudders, holding him like he might be snatched from her arms at any moment.

"Link." Her voice is utterly broken.

Tension radiates from her. Her shoulders shrink inward. "You're really here," she asserts, seemingly trying to convince herself about reality. His heart breaks.

"You're really—"

She begins to cry. It's barely audible even while he's against her. Her grip tightens, and he’s thankful that his entire body weight isn't on her. Her free hand grips and bunches fistfuls of fabric from his shirt.

He lays there for several moments. He's worried about suffocating her, so he pushes himself up with his left arm and she follows, refusing to let go. He wraps his other arm around her and sits them up. She pushes herself into the empty space within his lap instinctively, draping her legs together across his thigh to lessen her weight on him. Her chin rests over his shoulder as he adjusts them. Finally, she's secured in his arms, and he relaxes a fraction.

"You're safe," he breathes. "It's over now."

He feels the fabric on his shoulder become damp with her tears, and it pains him that she's had to endure so much. He rests his head against her own and holds her, shielding her from the world as long as he can. She’s done the same for him when he has nightmares. He can't shield her from her past experiences, as much as he desperately wants to do so; he hopes this is good enough. It's seemed to work so far since she returned from her imprisonment.

"Thank you," she weeps bitterly. He ignores her thanks and holds her tighter. She's safe. He will do anything to keep her that way. His own anxieties lessen as he holds her.

Someday, he will tell her how much he loves to hold her—not just when she's crying. It makes him feel relied upon, trusted, and like he's providing for her somehow, even though they are equals. But now isn't the right time.

At some point, he starts running his hand up and down her back. It's something she has always done when he's in a similar state of mind. It seems to help. Her shuddering slowly subsides.

Her breathing relaxes just as the sky begins to lighten, turning from deep purple to that particular shade of blue green. Soon, she delicately removes her fingers from his hair and nestles her face into his collar, completely exhausted.

"I'm alright now," she breathes into his neck.

He nods as best as he is able. He assuages his anxieties about not helping her enough by continuing to run his hand along her back.

What must she be feeling right now? He can't imagine the horrors she had seen during a century of isolation with the embodiment of evil. Her grip on his shirt returns.

"I was doing so well," she says dejectedly. She releases her grip, continuing to hold him. "It's been so long since I…" her voice fades for a moment, "...since I reacted this severely."

"You are doing well," he affirms.

"I don't want to be doing well if it means I'm watching you die in my dreams."

His hand pauses halfway down her back. "Since when?"

"Since Ganon. I hadn't been remembering my dreams for quite a while."

Since Ganon? Damn…he remembers her saying that they had stopped happening a few months ago. It’s a shame they returned to haunt her.

Something else is weighing on her. He's determined to find out what.

"Do you know why they came back?”

She shakes her head. "I don't."

He sits and ponders their conversations from yesterday, rubbing her back again, trying to find a source that triggered her dreams.

"Did you put me to bed?" she says after a time, drawing him from his thoughts.

He nods. "You work too hard."

"I don't work hard enough,” she says, deflated.

He frowns. "That's not true."

"It is, Link. The last time I didn't work hard enough you died. And now, you could easily die again if I'm not careful. You were already injured with the new Sheikah slate project. I must work as hard as I can to achieve our goals and keep you safe."

With that, he remembers their conversation on the walk home from the lab. It all clicks in the span of a second.

"I am safe."

She freezes in his arms. "I know, but…"

"I don't want you to die again," she professes. "I could barely handle it before. I don't know what I'd do if it happened now." He can feel the tension and panic building within her. "But what if it does? What if everything goes to pieces again? What if you get hurt? Hurt enough to die? What if you can’t be healed? What if I'm the one who hurts you? The person I care for most will be dead and it will be all my fault—"

"Stop."

She jolts a bit at his tone.

He cuts her off before she can apologize for her words by adjusting her head to rest near the center of his chest.

"Listen," he says, pressing her into him. "I'm alive.” He taps his chest, and breathes slowly, keeping his heartbeat as steady as he can.

He doesn’t plan on dying anytime soon. Staying alive makes her happy. And he likes making her happy. It’s a win-win scenario.

"—And I'm not going anywhere. I'm certain of it."

"How?" she interjects. "You can't possibly know that."

He releases his grip around her. She sits up and stares at nothing in the general direction of his mattress. Her eyes are glossy and irritated red.

The words come naturally to him, as though they are plain as day. He thanks the goddesses for that.

"Zelda, you kept me safe for over one hundred years." He takes her hand and holds it to his chest. "I know that you will never stop protecting me, just like I will never stop protecting you." He hopes this statement is the most obvious thing in the world.

She seems to move to object. To his surprise, she stares at his hand and nods, swallowing thickly. Then, she takes a long, slow, and deep breath. When she opens her eyes, he continues. She's listening—she always is.

"Yesterday, you told me that on your life, no harm shall come to me. I said the same thing about you to your father and Urbosa when I became a Champion at your side, an oath I still hold to this day."

He stops, thinking for a moment. "I can't promise that I won't get hurt. You can't promise that to me either, before and now. I almost died...a lot. You were tortured by Ganon. It gave you actual scars." He takes his spare hand and brushes the white scar that's like shattered glass across her collarbone. "As much as we tried, we couldn't keep each other completely safe. But your determination to keep me safe regardless is exactly why I am certain, just how you are certain with me."

He briefly squeezes her hand for emphasis.

She seems despondent, then sighs. "That's fair," she says after a moment. "I didn't think of it that way. You described it so eloquently."

This strengthens his resolve. "And besides," he continues, "you said it yourself: I'm unfathomably resilient."

She smiles the smallest of smiles. "That I did."

"I'm not going anywhere," he affirms, gently and assuredly. "And neither are you."

They sit quietly for a while. She sits with her eyes closed as she collects herself. He watches her carefully, taking in every minor detail, like the tiny movements in her shoulders as she breathes, how her hair barely touches the neckline of her tunic as she slouches, and how warm her hand feels against his chest.

He breathes in slowly, deeply, and feels her hand press back against him.

The sun begins to rise, casting warm beams of light throughout the house.

Her hand slips from his grasp. She rearranges both of his hands and holds them, resting them on her lap, and stares intently where they meet. Her hands are warm, strong, and lightly calloused, something he's never had the opportunity to notice before. She's always wearing gloves when they travel.

"Thank you, again." She runs her thumbs across the rippling scars on his hands. There's a wonderful softness to her expression; the deep orange hues of dawn cast over her face and mollifies any traces left from the evening. He's captivated. "I appreciate you more than anything." Her sincerity is undeniable to him, an expert in second guessing.

Warmth blossoms in his chest at that.

"You must really like me or something," he muses.

She looks up at him and her eyes are stunning, like emeralds in the morning light. "Love," she amends, and it takes his breath away. "I really love you."

He rests his forehead against her own and breathes her in.

"I really love you too."

Her hands remove themselves from her lap and rest on his cheeks, her thumbs drifting across his cheekbones.

How badly he wants to kiss her.

But she's had a rough night, and could use some sleep.

"Are you up for a little more sleep?" he asks gently. Her hands withdraw from his cheeks, and he already misses their warmth.

"I'm a bit scared to. But if I do not, it will just get worse."

She eyes her futon and sighs. "I should change, too." She gets up and walks across the loft, shrugging off her blouse in the process. Part of him would be startled to see her in her sheikah underthings but that didn't matter at the present. He's seen them before in plenty of different mundane contexts. How many times has she seen him shirtless? How many times have they swam together or spearfished in only their underthings, the only clothes they owned that were waterproof? And besides, it doesn't matter anyways. People need to change before bed. He needs to stop being weird.

While she's gone, he eyes her futon, thinking. When she returns, she wears a thin, dusty blue tunic that he got her in Lurelin, and she stops short.

Their mattresses are pushed together. He adjusted and turned down her linens while she was away.

"I thought it might help," he says sleepily.

"That's kind."

She crawls into bed. To his amazement, she continues crawling until she's right beside him, nestling into his chest. Luckily, his arm is already underneath his pillow. He gets a lungful of her—

"Is this alright?" she whispers.

Goddesses, yes it was. He pulls her closer and promptly falls asleep before he can second-guess himself.

--------------------

His eyes open briefly, and he sees her peaceful, sleeping face. Relieved, he closes them again as sleep beckons.

--------------------

He's somewhere between dreaming and waking and it's pleasantly warm. His comforter is the perfect weight, and there is a wonderful smell around him. He doesn't want to wake up. The pillows are so soft, and something's gently caressing his cheeks.

…Someone is caressing his cheeks. It feels nice. He remembers the circumstances, and opens his eyes to see her.

"Good morning," Zelda says.

"Morning," he responds groggily, thoroughly pleased.

“More like afternoon, now,” she adds sheepishly, removing her hands from him. “Did you sleep well?”

She is golden in the sunlight. Her smile could make flowers grow. The shadows under her eyes have returned to their normal shade, much to his relief. He can’t hide the smile on his face. He hasn’t moved the entire morning, apparently, since she’s exactly where she was when he fell asleep: in his arms. But she smells even better, and her hair looks slightly damp and towel-dried. She must have washed up, then. She runs her thumbs across his cheeks again. He leans into her touch. She makes a quiet noise of content at that.

He nods, not knowing how to sum his feelings (I slept very well and maybe we should sleep like this every night and I love to hold you and—)

If he could paint, he’d paint a portrait of her right now, with all her beautiful hues of gold, apricot, green, and the dusty blue of her tunic. He’s still a bit sleepy. He’s lost the want to hold a grip on his affections.

Then, she seems to realize what she’s doing with her hands. She removes them and glances at him cautiously.

"What are you thinking about right now?" she inquires, staring into his tunic and echoing his own question from the day before. She's avoiding eye contact for some reason. It's a shame—he could easily get lost in her eyes, as sappy as that sounds.

Then, she peeks at him over the edge of his bedsheets endearingly. It’s rare for her to act like this, so shy and meek. While she is quieter now in general, she’s much more self-assured than she was before the Calamity. She’s so cute!

"I want to kiss you," he thinks automatically. He goes to say something innocuous but stops when he sees her eyes widen.

Her face blossoms into a light shade of pink.

Wait...shit. Shit. Did he just say that out loud? The one time he needs to moderate his thoughts he doesn't. He instinctively covers his mouth with his hand. He just ruined everything oh goddesses someone execute him shit shit shit shit shit SHIT

He's still panicking when she meets his eyes again. The corners of her jaw are the most flushed he’s ever seen them. Their gaze holds for an agonizing and overwhelming moment.

"By all means," she breathes, her meekness immediately changing into relief.

No way. Is she serious?

"Are you sure?" he questions, immediately doubting himself, suddenly very nervous. He doesn’t want to overstep or make her uncomfortable or be selfish or—

"I wondered if you'd ever kiss me again," she responds ruefully. "So yes, I'm quite sure."

He registers her words and the guilt sinks in. She waited for him? Didn’t she wait a hundred years for him already? And now he’s unintentionally withholding something from her that makes her happy? He just wanted to respect her wishes and not overstep any bounds!

He wants to hold her tight, but she continues speaking, likely finding something in his expression to comment on. “You are not required to do so if it is against your wishes, or if it makes you uncomfortable. Or if you don’t see me in that way. I have a tendency to jump to conclusions.”

Comfortable? Jumping to conclusions? Of course she”jumped to them”, he literally confessed his feelings to her! He’s been going insane trying to hide his affections. It was easier a century ago, but definitely not now. Definitely not when she’s in his arms and she wants him to kiss her. He definitely owes her an explanation. He does his best to do so. Of course, it doesn’t come out the way he intends.

“I was waiting for you.”

Zelda’s absolutely astounded. She makes a choking noise and grips into his shirt near his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for you!” she asserts, giving him a little shake as she speaks. “I assumed that you were not partial to physical affection or still becoming used to it.”

The sheer ridiculousness of all of this comes to a head. They were waiting for the exact same reasons, for each other's comfort. It’s kind and considerate on her end, really, but…

“I like physical affection,” he finds himself saying, “if it’s from you.”

Zelda’s eyes light up, and it’s his turn to feel relieved. “Thank the goddesses,” she says. “It has been a challenge to get by without your affections,” she adds honestly.

Now what does that mean? “Get by?” he says, intrigued, and pulls her the tiniest bit closer.

She's incredibly and adorably flustered at his question and their increased closeness. "Well, I suppose I—"

"Suppose what?" he goads, pulling her in just a bit more, feeling bold enough to tease her.

“I…was not the most expedient in preparing the table for dinner last night.”

That doesn’t matter. The table was set, wasn’t it? Who cares about speed? He raises an eyebrow at her, and her blush deepens.

"I only wanted to smell your cloak one last time before I hung it up!" she admits.

He feels his eyes widen, remembering as she fidgeted at the table just before dinner. He doesn't have time to ask for an explanation. She gives one readily.

"I didn't know the next time I'd be able to wear your cloak." She hurriedly continues: "And it smells like you. You smell absolutely wonderful. So I did, but I thought you caught me in the act! Goddesses this is embarrassing—"

Her ink stained hands cover her face for a moment as she curls into his sheets, avoiding his eyes.

She’s never been like this before. Normally, she states things plainly, kindly, and somewhat literally, refusing to conflate her ideas with subtle emotional cues that are hard for him to catch and vice versa. They both take things literally. So, he takes this literally. She is literally so cute. And intelligent. And beautiful and wonderful and a whole bunch of other adjectives.

"What? That's adorable!" He can actually feel the heat casting from her. The thought of her sneaking away just to smell his cloak doesn't help his constant need to kiss her. She's still panicking. He can't help but laugh. "Zelda, seriously, it's fine."

"But don't you think it's odd?" she says, shamefaced, clouded by his bedding.

Why is she mortified by this? "No way. It makes me really happy." He gently takes her wrists into his hands. She looks at them, then back up at his face as he continues. "Wear it whenever you want, I don't mind."

"Alright." Her response is meek but accepting.

He feels an urge to squeeze her for some reason. "I don't mean to say this to invalidate your feelings, but you're adorable when you're flustered."

She makes an indignant sound, her face still somewhat flushed. "What if I do feel invalidated?" she says playfully. "What if I desire retribution?"

"I'd be terrified."

"Terrified?"

"Well yeah," he runs his thumbs across her knuckles. "You could easily grind my bones to dust."

"I could not!"

He laughs and pulls her even closer. “You really could, though,” he insists softly. She’s the only one who could ever curb-stomp the embodiment of evil. If her powers worked against him, she could handily beat him, without a doubt.

He’s been a chatterbox this morning. Holding her wrists should shut him up for a bit. She half-heartedly wrestles away from him, just enough to look at him.

“And you could easily kiss me,” she counters, bringing the conversation back on track.

His heart sprints in his chest as he stares at her, the weight of her request pinning him to the floor. He can't move. Why can't he move? He's never been unable to move, not even when he was terrified for their collective safety on the battlefield.

He just stares at her, dumbfounded.

No way. No way. Seriously? He has permission? She wants this? He wasn’t overstepping? AaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Of course, he knows his face is completely blank. He wishes it weren't so she could see that he's trying to move—

But then she grins. "Come here. Please?"

Well, she asked nicely. She laughed, too. It must be alright then. He gets a grip on his senses, and wraps his arms around her, pulling her even closer to him. He sees the anticipation on her face.

Like all the best things in life, he will savor this. He's here with her, safe, and the world isn't burnt to ashes. She wants this. She wants him.

He's imagined countless scenarios where this happens, where he finally gets to kiss her again. This is far more than ideal. There are so many ways to go about this, though, but it's all what he desires.

"This is—" he stammers,"—Is there any way you want me to?" he asks.

"Hm…" she supposes. "Will you kiss me how you've been wanting to kiss me?"

Oh boy, would he! He's surprised how level his voice is. "Gladly."

She’s a work of art. She’s quite literally a goddess in the flesh. But beyond that, she's just Zelda, a normal person, who's just letting him kiss her.

He tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Wow, it's so soft. How does she make it like that? No matter. Savor this.

Now that he's here and he has permission, it's still hard to allow himself to do the things he's been wanting. To do the things she directly asks of him. He takes a deep breath.

His thumb trails across her cheek. She leans into his touch along with a quiet hum of content. Heat radiates into his palm, centered from the corner of her jaw. So she is blushing. Her eyes flutter closed as he places his other hand on her cheek. She's so close.

Goddesses, does he want to kiss her. All he has to do is lean in.

He finally does.

He's slow, kissing her like he's wanted to for months: gently, languidly, reverently, learning the feeling of her. He's never loved anyone like he loves her. He wants to show that. She makes a relieved sound, and he feels the tension throughout her ease a fraction.

They break apart for a moment. She's speechless, dazed, and the most beautiful person in the world. Their foreheads rest against each other as he continues to trail his thumbs across her cheeks. Her breath graces his skin. Zelda.

Slow, but deeper. He tries to show her how he feels, his yearning for her, all those secret emotions he’s hidden away until now. He angles her head, and he feels her sigh into him. Her cheeks are ever warmer. The pressure and softness of her lips against his own, that electrifying feeling tingling in his chest—especially since she's completely in his arms in his futon—is amazing.

He doesn’t want to stop, but he does anyway, just to see her. Just to ask her a question.

He looks at her shyly, adjusting her in his arms so her face is level with his own. It's easy since she's taller than him. "Was that…?" he trails off, unsure.

She just makes a quiet, needy noise, and pulls him in for more.

…Well then.

"Weren't you going to the lab today?" he finds himself whispering dizzily near her neck a few moments later. She shivers in response.

"There's always tomorrow," she states plainly. He can't help it, he laughs. But then he's absolutely touched.

Ancient technology and helping others is her passion. She's willing to put off her work for an entire day?

"Are you sure?" he asks quietly, with a smile on his face.

"I could do this all day," she says earnestly. Perfect, that makes two of them.

She glances over him. “Your hair—” she grins, running her fingernails through his fringe. A shiver runs down his spine at her touch. Her hair is askew, and her tunic is wrinkled from sleep. Basically, she's absolutely gorgeous. He's holding a brilliant, yet completely normal person who could turn him into ash. He loves that about her. He eyes her blush, wondering what it would feel like against his hands, or more intriguingly…

He moves to the corner of her jaw, finally being able to feel her flush for himself.

"Link, that tickles!"

He smiles against her skin, kissing her again. He can feel her laughing in his arms. Carefree, he places his lips on her neck, right beneath her ear.

She gasps and makes a faint, incredible sound he's never heard before.

He's very relaxed at this point and exceptionally intrigued at her response. It'd be nice to hear that again. He kisses her there once more, and she quiets, her hands gripping to his head a tad.

"Good?" he whispers against her throat.

"Wonderful," she breathes. “Consider my retribution waived. Unless…"

He looks at her. She's planning something, isn't she?

"Unless you're a glutton for punishment," she speculates.

He beams at her. "I am a glutton."

He cuts off her resulting laugh with a kiss.

And with that, any productivity they planned for the afternoon practically flies out the window. They spend the rest of the day making up for lost time. And if there’s not enough time today?

Well, there’s always tomorrow.

#zelink week 2023 #yearning #one-shot #fluff #hurt/comfort #mildly suggestive but nothing too serious #post botw #pre totk #they're idiots in love your honor

70 notes · View notes

uniquevoidflowers · 2 months

Text

For @hyrulesunworthiest

This is for @zelinkcommunity’s Loftwing Letter Exchange!

Hope you enjoy!

Ao3 link: The Aftermath

“The fate of Hyrule, rests with you!” Zelda shouted and glanced back at her kingdom.

Fires spreading throughout town as the guardians climbed over the destruction. The now red divine beasts wreaking havoc in the distance. Zelda looked down at her hand, staring at the glowing mark on it. “For Hyrule.” She took a deep breath and sprinted towards Calamity Ganon.

The beast sneered and lunged at her, and Zelda raised her hand, the golden power surging through her and flying off of her fingertips. Malice, magenta and black darkness filled her vision.

It killed my friends…

Light exploded and fought against the darkness. Now all she could do was wait for Link to arrive.

___

Pain. The malice was painful as it wrapped itself around the light, trying to overcome it. The pain grew the longer the light fought.

“Give up.” The malice demanded.

Never.

___

She was so exhausted. The darkness was held back but Zelda didn’t know how long she could take this.

___

Beyond the fight within Hyrule Castle, Zelda could hear water draining and she called out uncertainly. “Link. Link. Open your eyes. Wake up, Link.”

It caused pain in her throat to speak but she continued calling until she heard a grunt.

Link.

Zelda’s light glowed brighter, and she nearly cried from relief. She heard footsteps and a hesitant tap. She guided the hero through the Shrine of Resurrection. Zelda could only hear but she had spent hours researching the shrine. She knew what Purah had did and how it worked.

The hero was alive.

She wrestled with the darkness for longer, knowing Link would be able to come and save her.

_______________________________________________________

“Link…do you really remember me?” Zelda asked.

Link answered by running to her and wrapping his arms around her. Zelda felt tears welling up in her eyes and rested her head on his shoulders. After a few moments she pulled away. “Are you hurt?” She asked, quickly wiping away the tears from her eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” He reassured.

Zelda eyed him. “Okay. If you say so.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Link murmured.

She smiled as she heard the honesty in his tone and the happiness in his eyes and her heart pounded against her chest. “I think we should make our way to Kakariko first…” Zelda paused. “If you’d like.”

“Sure. I can teleport us.” He hummed and tapped the slate.

“Wait what—“

Zelda’s vision was filled with blue light as she felt lighter. After a few moments her vision cleared and she was standing on a shrine. An awakened one by the looks of it, considering its exterior was covered in blue light and its door had been opened. “Is that…” Zelda saw the symbol of the Sheikah and stared in awe at the slate.

She had never known the slate was capable of such a thing!

“Kakariko Village?” Link looked amused. “It’s teleportation.”

Zelda felt her cheeks burning a little. “Well I—“

Link chuckled. “No need to explain yourself.”

Link was so…different now. Different from that stoic knight who would only talk to her privately. Even then he rarely spoke, he mostly listened. “Impa will want to see you.” Link murmured.

“Impa! She’s okay?” Zelda gave a sigh of relief.

“Yeah. I…don’t remember anything about her.” Link admitted.

“Really? Just how much memory did you lose?” Zelda mused.

The hero winced. “Everything. I regained as much as I could in the last few years but…some people or things aren’t familiar to me.”

“You remembered me though?” She blinked, a little surprised.

He nodded. “You were a main part of my quest after all…I thought you hated me for a while, but then I knew you didn’t.”

Zelda sighed. She had been envious at the time of how he had gotten his part of the plan finished and she had still been struggling. She thought he hated him for not being able to awaken the sealing power, yet he proved otherwise. The princess fell in love with the hero. What a cliche.

“I’m glad you know I don’t hate you.” Zelda murmured keeping her past feelings to herself.

Link hummed in reply, looking deep in thought. “Were you…in love with me?”

The princess’s face began to burn. “I…Yes…”

“Oh.”

There was something guilty in his tone that gave her pause. Why was he feeling guilty? “Well, let’s go to Impa. I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Link mumbled and started walking.

Zelda’s lips pressed into a thin line as she followed him. How strange…

“Hey Li—PRINCESS ZELDA!” One of the Sheikah cried out.

Immediately all of the Sheikah paused what they were doing and looked at the pair, wide-eyed. Zelda fidgeted with her long hair, a little uncomfortable. “Someone go get the elder! Link survived! Zelda’s here!” A man shouted.

“Is it that much of a surprise?” Link scoffed.

“It is.” An old woman with a large hat walked slowly over to them. “Is it really you, princess?”

“Yes.” She answered uncertainly.

The old woman visibly relaxed and smiled softly. “Do you recognize me, Zelda?”

Zelda took a moment but she gasped. “Impa!”

Impa chuckled. “You haven’t changed one bit.” She turned to Link. “Ah, Link, are you hurt? Are you hurt, princess?”

Link bit his lip and nodded. “I-I’m not sure.” Zelda admitted, frowning.

Impa gave them an unimpressed look. “You didn’t think to check?”

“I…” Zelda was rather embarrassed but she felt her knees buckle and suddenly her body felt like it was on fire.

“Princess!”

———————————-

Zelda drifted.

“Hey.” Urbosa stopped Zelda with a hand on her shoulder.

The princess looked at Urbosa shakily. “Don’t push yourself too hard. If you get no response, that’s not your fault.”

Zelda looked away. “You don’t believe me.” Urbosa observed, sounding a little sad. "Why don't you believe me, princess?"

"I have to go now, spend as much time and effort I can into fulfilling my duty. We haven't much time left until the Calamity comes and I won't fail my kingdom. So...I'd rather hope it does work instead of focusing on the other outcome." She replied, not answering the question as she glanced up at the mountain.

Urbosa sighed. "Alright, little bird." The gerudo champion hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want any of us to come with you?"

Zelda gave a nod. "I'm sure."

Urbosa gave her a hug. "Remember, I'm here if you need anything.

"Thank you." The princess replied quietly.

"C'mon, let's go already." Revali huffed. "It's not the end of the world. Well, yet anyway."

Urbosa glared daggers at the rito champion but Zelda just nodded and began walking away, Link quickly following her.

The trip was cold. The mountain loomed over her, but she just kept walking. She walked along the path, arms curled up around her, and she wished she had brought a coat. She wanted this to be perfect, though. To meet the goddess's expectations, whatever they were, and gain the last key to defeating Calamity Ganon.

Link quietly wrapped an arm around her and she smiled slightly. "Thank you. I was foolish not to bring a coat. Are you okay in that tunic?" Zelda asked.

The hero gave a nod. Zelda was satisfied with that. When they arrived, she was met with a familiar sight even though she had never been there. It was too similar to the other springs for Zelda to react at all. Link stayed behind as he always did, and kept guard. Not before giving her a worried glance. She took a deep breath and stood in the freezing cold water, making eye contact with the Goddess Statue.

She gave her prayer, trying to mean every word she said. She tried to sound passionate, but she sounded desperate. She finished off her prayer and waited, still keeping eye-contact with that statue. For a minutes, nothing happened. The goddess statue remained still, Zelda felt nothing new. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"What do you want from me?" She choked out. "I've said everything I can, I've done everything I've can. What am I doing wrong?!"

Silence.

"What did my mother and my ancestors do that I'm missing? I've gone to all three springs, prayed and prayed, and yet no response. None of that damn sealing power."

Silence.

"I apologize." She ducked her head, but her voice was bitter. "For interrupting the prayer with my emotions."

Zelda resumed her prayers, kneeling in the water now.

"Goddess Hylia, I pray you use your remarkable generosity and aid our people from the upcoming Calamity, by giving me this sealing power..."

By The Three, this was frustrating.

"I devote myself to this role, fulfilling the prophecy given to us..."

Silence.

"...I devote myself to Your Kingdom, and Your people. I ask for guidance, wisdom, courage, and power..."

Silence.

"If there is anything I must do to earn this, I will do it..."

She felt a tap on her shoulder and saw Link standing there. He hesitated and then pointed outside the spring.

"No, I'm not leaving." Zelda instantly rejected the idea. She still had daytime. She needed to use it.

Link shook his head.

The princess thought for a moment. "A break?"

He nodded.

"I don't know..." Zelda furrowed her eyebrows.

Link's pleading gaze made her falter. "Okay. I'll take a break. Only for a few minutes, though."

The hero led her just outside the spring, and rolled out a blanket. He sat down and she followed in suit. "I haven't heard anything yet." Zelda mumbled.

Link hummed sadly. She sighed. "I don't think I'm going to hear anything, honestly."

That was terrifying to her. Failure.

The destruction of the world could be caused by Zelda not hearing Hylia.

"A few more hours." She murmured, and stood up. "I need to do this."

Link gave a nod and Zelda walked back to the statue, arms at her sides.

The princess prayed. For hours she knelt in that cold water, hoping something would happen. Nothing did.

Frustrated tears fell out of her eyes and she heard soft footsteps approaching her. Link helped her up, and guided her out of the spring. “Link, nothing’s working.” Zelda sobbed.

The hero led her back down the mountain, hand in hers. The princess wiped away her tears before they arrived back down at the gate. The hopeful but worried expressions on the champions faces nearly broke her but she didn’t cry.

———————————————————

When Zelda woke up, she saw light.

Am I still fighting Ganon?

Her arm felt heavy but she raised it up, hoping to contain any malice.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay princess.”

Zelda blinked and suddenly a room came into view. A Sheikah girl was standing by her side. “Oh, you’re awake!”

“She’s awake?!”

That was Link’s voice. She saw him rush over and grab her hand. “Zelda?”

“Link?” Zelda replied, voice almost in a mumble.

The hero smiled and nodded. “How are you feeling, princess?” The Sheikah girl asked.

Zelda shifted where she was, a little confused. “I, uh, feel exhausted.”

“Are you in any pain?” The Sheikah girl questioned, looking concerned.

Zelda paused for a moment and Link gave her hand a light squeeze. “Zelda?”

“Yes.” She answered quietly.

“Okay. I’ll get you some water.” The Sheikah girl left.

Link hummed. “I’m glad you’re awake. It’s easier to tell you’re alive now. That we won.”

It was kind of strange to hear Link talk so freely and casually, but it was nice. “What happened exactly?” Zelda asked.

“Impa asked if we were hurt and then you collapsed suddenly. The Sheikah carried you to Impa’s house and took care of you. I was tended to as well…but you were unconscious, for days. Impa constantly worried but she wouldn’t send for any Hylian medics, not wanting anyone to spread rumours about your return.” Link explained. “Fighting Calamity Ganon took a huge toll on you…” He trailed off.

Was that…guilt in his tone? Did he blame himself for everything?

“Anyway, Impa wanted me to give this to you.” Link pulled out a journal and handed it to her.

She accepted it, with a thanks, and looked at the cover. It was her favourite colour. She smiled softly. Impa still remembered.

“It’s to record your thoughts each day. You know, like a diary? Impa gave me one too.” Link pulled out his own.

It was blue. Almost the colour of his tunic.

The Sheikah girl came back with a glass of water and Zelda took it gratefully. She looked back at the journal and knew she would use it a lot. “If you need anything let me know.” The Sheikah girl murmured and left again.

—————————————————————

“It wasn’t your fault.” Impa said to Link, as the hero looked guilty.

“And it wasn’t your fault either.” Impa turned to Zelda.

The princess gave a nod.

“The one you should blame is Calamity Ganon.” Impa finished.

“Now that I’m better, I want to fix things. I’ll announce my return, and then help rebuild everything.” Zelda informed the Sheikah elder.

“I see. Do what you think would be best.” Impa nodded.

“Link.” Zelda turned to him. “With your duty fulfilled, you can resign and live your own life.”

Link shook his head. “I want to stay with you. I’ve explored Hyrule enough, and I’ve got a house but no one to share it with.”

Zelda was surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Link affirmed and knelt.

“Alright then. No need for the formalities. We’re equals now.” She helped Link up. “I want to be friends, at least.”

“Okay.” Link grabbed her hand.

“Ah, young love.” Impa hummed.

“What?!” Zelda blushed furiously while Link looked away.

Impa chuckled as Zelda began sputtering and Link let go of her hand.

#unique writes #loz #botw #post-botw #pre totk #link #botw link #zelda #botw zelda #botw zelink #tloz #the legend of zelda #impa

19 notes · View notes

definitelynotapossum · 8 months

Text

Battle Scarring

You can find this fic, and many more, on my ao3!

_______________________

An arrow whizzed through the air, striking the hay bale target with a distinct "thwack" before it fizzled with a slight crack of electricity, then stopped.

Zelda had wanted to learn how to use the shock arrows properly since, as Link learned the first time he used them, firing them wrong can result in the user becoming just as damaged as the target. That, and she felt like they were the type she should use. She found she had a knack for the electrically charged arrows, and they made her think of Urbosa.

Link had worried about her using such destructive ammo when she was still new to the bow, but he was able to craft a shock arrow that was far less devastating for her to start with. He watched her pull another from her quiver and load it. "You're a quick learner. Last week, it would have hit the pond." He pointed at the small body of water that was just behind the target.

Zelda shook her head at the memory. "Goddesses… all those poor fish. Serves me right for forgetting that electricity conducts rather well in water."

"It happens." He flinched slightly at the sound of another charged arrow hitting its mark, and crackling with electricity. "I promise you whatever mistakes you'll make with that thing will be nothing compared to what I managed to do with mine."

"Have you forgotten I kept watch?" She giggled. "I saw some of the ludicrous things you managed with those bomb arrows of yours. I'm surprised you came out of it all unscathed."

"Mostly." He pulled up his right sleeve and pointed at a small patch of skin that was warped and hairless compared to the rest of his arm. "That's what happens when you mix up your bomb arrows with your regular ones, then fire at close range. Kind of surprised this is all I walked away with."

Zelda sat the bow down in the plush grass, and walked over to him, looking at his arm. "I'm shocked your eyebrows didn't come off with it. I remember that fight. You were trying to dispatch a bokoblin, right?"

"Yep." Link cringed at the realization that she had seen that. Of all the things she had seen him do, it had to be that.

The encounter had originally terrified her, but now she did her best not to laugh whenever she thought of it. She could still perfectly recall Link's high-pitched screams of terror. "You scared me to death, you know. Still do. I've probably got gray hairs from keeping watch over you." She placed a finger on the scar, feeling the formed ridges. "How have you walked away alive from most of these instances?"

" Most ." The memory of the guardian's laser gnawed at him before he shook it away. "Experience, pure luck, and a lot of healing elixirs."

"And plenty of calls to Mipha's power, I'm sure."

"I'm sure she's getting sick of saving my ass."

"Goddesses, I miss that woman." Zelda took another arrow from the quiver and set her sights back on the target. One final shot before resting. She fired and watched as the arrow hit the small, central dot in the center of the target. Bullseye. "What other scars have you collected from your various… excursions?"

"Misadventures?" Link corrected.

"Scuffles, if you will."

He had to think for a moment. Sure, there was no shortage of scars on his body, but he had forgotten the stories behind most of them. After a while, all the bokoblin bites and lynel scratches just blended together. He thought about the prominent one on his left eyebrow, which sliced right through it. "Got this one swimming with Sidon, one day."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He had me on his back, and I thought it would be funny to try and stand up. You know, like a surfboard. I guess…"

Zelda sheathed the bow, biting back a grin. "I think I missed this one. Do tell."

Link lowered his head, and his ears twitched, slightly abashed. "I… slipped off of him and got sent careening right into a rock. Got knocked out cold and he had to fish me out of the water." He blushed slightly. It wasn't one of his finest moments. The red hue deepened when he heard Zelda snort. "I could have been concussed, you know!"

"Nothing your brain hasn't already been through I'm sure."

"Hey-!"

"And this one?" She said, pointing to a cut in his ear. She used the tip of her finger to trace it slightly, and it made his ear twitch.

"Careful, it's sensitive." He perked them slightly. "Hate that one. Yiga scar. I was fighting one and his blade just barely scathed me, but I was left with… this. Makes it harder to hear out that side." The blade had taken out a sizable notch in his ear. Hylian ears were designed in such a way that they could hear the slightest movements. "Now I mostly just rely on my sight, and gut instinct."

Zelda's own ears mimicked his movements: a habit that had grown on her since the calamity. "I… definitely don't remember that one. I would have tried to help. Somehow."

He could see her slight frown. She probably couldn't have stopped it even if she wanted to, but, Zelda being Zelda, of course, she would still feel guilty. "Hey, It's alright. Just another scar. Believe me, there's worse and better." He said, pulling the collar of his shirt down slightly, exposing yet another blemish, and he started to talk about a lynel that had caught him off guard while he was riding away from the stables.

She learned very quickly that he was absolutely riddled with scars. She must have been busy when most of these happened because only a few of them jogged any memories. What had he gotten into? "My word… There are so many! How did I miss all of these?"

Link pulled his shirt back down over his torso, covering himself, and all the little imperfections, back up. Zelda mourned the loss. "You were pretty busy, you know, saving the kingdom and whatnot. I'm not the only one with scars. You got your fair share too." He gestured at her thigh. Beneath her pants, Link knew of a large mark she had earned when she launched herself between him and a bokoblin's mace. She couldn't walk for a week, and it had barely missed a major artery.

"That I did, but mine pale in comparison. You've been through… so much." She lightly grazed her hand over the covered mark on her thigh, the memory burning in her mind. Link had scolded her for what felt like hours for charging to his rescue like that. No matter. She would gladly do it again.

Link took a few tentative steps closer, close enough to catch her hand in a gentle cradle, rubbing his fingers along the back of it. "We both have. No more one than the other." Feeling bold, he brought her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, making her smile and blush. "We've come a long way, princess."

"That we have, Hero."

It was more than just the physical and mental scarring. Link was Link, he had always had his fighting spirit, but after Ganon's defeat, Zelda had accompanied him on pretty much every journey, hike, and battle he had gotten into. Though she was more than winded after the first few, she quickly learned to keep up. She had mastered her way with a sword, even finding her own technique, and was more than skilled with her power, now that she had a hundred years of usage on it. She was turning into a knight of sorts too.

It was more than her skills. Her body had changed too. Her physique closely matched that of Links, she just wasn't as skinny, and scars were starting to make themselves plenty. Hell, she had a new one forming on her calf from falling off her horse a week ago, and her hair was cut short, something she did immediately after a Yiga clan member had yanked her to the ground by her long ponytail. He had nearly sliced her in half while she lay there.

Her hand still in his, he gently pulled her towards a nearby tree, its orange, and amber-colored leaves just beginning to fall. A telltale sign of the season's change. He spun her around slowly before placing his other hand on her waist, bringing her close. A little trick he had learned a hundred years back, waltzing in the ballroom. She admits that was the first time he had, literally and figuratively, swept her off her feet. "You were once a princess without a single scrape on your body. I'd call you fit to be a warrior now, or the most beautiful knight I've ever seen."

She giggled, still pressing close. "Only because of you. You kept me safe all those years ago. You still do. Though, I don't think I'd quite recognize myself now. All bruises, bumps, and muscles."

Link had let go at this point, stretching his arms as far as they could go, then leaning back against the tree's rough-barked trunk. "Man, what would that young princess in Hyrule Castle think if she saw you?" He said, referencing a young, less experienced Zelda.

"I think she'd faint."

"In terror or joy?"

She leaned back with him. "Both, and you? What would that little countryside farm boy think of you?"

"Oh, he would drop dead ." They both laughed at that. "The Princess' royal knight, hero of Hyrule, and I can talk now? He wouldn't believe it."

It was true. Before the Calamity, Link was best known by his fellow knights for being unusually silent. Even the princess had commented on it a few times before she had grown fond of him. " You never even chirp. You can't always let your sword speak for you, you know. Part of being in the royal family is having quick wit, and a sharp tongue."

"Like watching a caterpillar turn into a butterfly." Zelda took a seat under the tree, with the ground covered in once near-extinct silent princesses. She patted the dirt next to her, silently asking Link to sit next to her. "You've come a long way, hero. You should be proud, and I think it should be commended. If I could see to it that a ceremony be held, I would. I guess my praise will have to do for now."

Link smiled. "Your praise is more than enough."

"Yeah? Guess I'll have to say it more often."

"We should both be commended. I mean… look at you."

"Look at me." She copied, gesturing to her body.

"Oh, I am." He punctuated it with a cheeky wink.

"Ugh, you are truly awful." She gave him a light biff to his arm. "If only my father could see me now. I look like I could lift a bull, I probably could, and if he heard my profanity now, he'd fucking gasp too." That earned a chuckle from Link, but he watched solemnly as her smile faded, and she looked at something on the distant horizon. "I feel like I've lost half of what makes me a princess."

Lost it? She seemed more like a Princess now than she ever was. Fit to be queen, if Link could have a say in it. "Zelda." The sudden change in tone made her tense. "You are still very much a princess to me. You haven't lost a single bit of your charm or beauty, and if anything, I'd say you've gained a whole lot more."

"You think so?" Her eyes were still focused on the distant hills.

Aiming to shake her from her downcast state, he silently scooted up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, making her squeal in surprise. He pulled her back into his body, and placed little, feather-light kisses along her neck, making her chuckle and sigh. "I do think that, Zel."

"Zel…" she turned and cupped his face in her hand. "Now there's a name I haven't heard in… a long time."

"You'll hear it more. I promise. I remembered how much you liked it." Lifting his head, he saw that the sky had begun to take on a slight pinkish glow. Night was on its way and, as much as he'd like to stay right there, all night, a snug, shared bedroll in their tent was much more enticing. "Sun's setting, love. Wanna get a move on?" He held out a hand for her to take, and pulled her up off the ground.

"Alright, but I choose where we set up camp this time." She began collecting their things and went to pull her used arrows out of the hay bale.

"What? What was so bad about last time?"

That earned him an eye roll. "You may be used to sleeping on sharp rocks, but I'd at least like a nice patch of grass under the tent. With my luck, you'd stick us over a mud puddle."

Link gestured defeated, though he would admit he was used to just picking random spots and setting up camp. Zelda had a much better sense of comfort than he did. Good thing she was royalty. "Alright. Alright, I'll get the horse."

He returned a few minutes later with a blood bay stallion in tow. Zelda took her time tying everything snug onto the saddle before she took his hand, and he lifted her up with him.

She wrapped her hands around his waist, leaning into him. "Let's go, Hero."

"As you wish." With a click and a light boot to its side, the horse reared slightly, and they sped off toward the forest, leaving their cozy little archery spot behind.

20 notes · View notes

edgy-dragon-trash · 1 year

Text

Comm for an irl. They wanted “short hair zelda reading in her semi repaired study”, so pre totk Zelda?? Or post botw if you will. Anyways I figured this is the perfect thing to drop a day before totk, I’m so hyped

#pre totk #post botw #??? i guess #totk #botw #no srs which one do i tag #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #dragon’s art tag #tloz #zelda #totk zelda #zelda fanart #tloz fanart #the legend of zelda

31 notes · View notes

lokiwaffles · 9 months

Text

When I said old art, I wasn't kidding. Here is a pre-TOTK link redesign I did in in April. He is inspired by the thought of a gardener link (vaugly) but I was mostly just having fun. Here are some ideas for lore/redesigning.

-His main gimmick can be coaxing plants to grow faster, enabling him to reach different areas. His influence over different place expands throughout the game.

-A companion korok. Need I say more?

-A steampunk, industrial setting. Not really a Zelda idea, but I still love the thought of a fully mechanical Ganon akin to the one in BOTW.

-Just like in BOTW, there's the theme of nature reclaiming its territory.

-My boy’s costume can look a liiiiitle more organic. Axe the armor!

-Finding the Master Sword is a lot harder this time because there aren't really any sacred places left. It's very well hidden, and when found, is dulled because it has lost it’s connection to the land. It becomes more powerful in wild places.

-Bring back Link’s hat!!!

#zelda #art #digital art #zelda redesign #pre totk #older art #link oc #korok fanart #protect the koroks #loz ideas #au idea #nature reclaims #loz link

13 notes · View notes

sunset-peril · 2 months

Text

Link, Wolfbred King - Chapter Two

“Good morning, Link.”

He awoke to the most wonderful scratching of his ears. “Morning, Zels.”

“Zelda Ivee said you two had a fun night last night.”

“Yeah, well I broke Cece and Reede up again before they started fighting.” He tried to stretch himself out, but his wife held him down.

“Zelda Ivee? Could you get the herb salve for your father?”

“Yes, Momma!” The small child hopped off the foot of her parent’s bed, where she’d been sleeping the night before, and headed down to the kitchenette to retrieve her father’s salve.

“Honestly, Link, you need to stay out of their business. Reede’s lived this Hyrule longer than you have, and he’s a little less… volatile.”

“He’s a pushover, Zelda. He’ll do the show by confronting her, but won’t do the work of restoring peace.”

“Link.” She grasped his face. “You cannot keep acting like the town’s overlord. You are better than this.”

“But she's not.”

“Momma! I brought the salve for Daddy!”

“Thank you, dear.” Zelda took the salve gently from her. “Would you go see if the horses still have water? I can refill the troughs in a moment if they are empty.”

“Yes, Momma!” Once the little girl had gone out the front door, Zelda gripped her husband’s face hard enough that couldn't turn away. “Link.” She stared into his eyes until he began to lean away from her. “I know you’re hurting. But that does not give you permission to act like this. You are very quickly emulating the very behaviors you overthrew a century ago. Do not turn my husband into my father. You are better than this.” She released his face, then opened the salve and began to rub it onto Link’s elbows. “Cece is no Shamia. She has no true influence. You are King, my dear, and I can’t have you destroying yourself before our kingdom is restored. You reunited Hyrule’s tribes in your quest to free the Beasts, and that is inclusive of the Wolfbred.”

“The horsies are good, Momma! Can I help Daddy?”

“Thank you! Of course you may. Bring the mighty thistle milk, will you?”

The toddler quickly grabbed the bottle and ran up the stairs. “Got it, Momma!” She held out the bottle so her mother could de-cork it, then handed it to her father. “Here you go, Daddy!”

“Mmm, thank you, princess.” He tipped it back once, then set the bottle and his head down.

“Feeling better?”

“I’m alright. Your momma’s taking good care of me, and so are you.”

“...You can still see me, right?”

“Of course, I’m looking right at you!” He kissed her tiny forehead.

“Why do you hurt, Daddy? I wanna fix it…”

“You can’t fit it, baby, but I wish you could. Daddy’s just old.”

“But all the other daddies are older than you are…”

Zelda set Link’s arm down for a moment and picked up her daughter. “Daddy’s a pedigreed Wolfbred, which means he doesn’t have any Hylian in him like you, or me. Pedigreed Wolfbred get very old much faster then Hylians do.” She reached over and stroked his forehead, a weary purr came from him.

Thinking about what her ancestors did to his made her sick. The Royals of ancient times took the Wolfbreds’ bodies and changed the very nature of their beings for their benefit alone. They encoded synthetic instincts to keep them subservient, they changed the makeup of their bodies… making them stronger than any natural creature no matter the consequences on their health. Her hand tightened over his forehead and she thought.

They tried to domesticate him! He was no less Hylian than a Sheikah, and her ancestors tried to reduce him to a pet! A working animal! And then they just discarded him for ten thousand years when they were done! Her husband was a Hylian man with agency, who cares if he is descended from some ancient werewolf?!

Her beloved was doomed long before Hylia ever chose him. Wolfbred were known for dying in their thirties. Both Link's parents were in their thirties when they passed away, his mother passed from organ failure and his father died in his sleep about a year after the Calamity. Even if his parents hadn't met such early demises, enough genetic problems existed in Link's family line she'd been warned several times during their courtship that she'd likely outlive him. His body was a mere twenty-three years of age, but his right leg was painful and his left eye had begun to fog over around Zelda Ivee's second birthday. Not to mention that he preferred to walk like a wolf, swearing it eased the pain of his hips.

Link's spirit was mostly undampered, thankfully. He was very argumentative when she retired him from the Guard a year ago due to his blind left eye, and since his retirement he'd been getting himself into trouble either by starting fights of his own or trying to end someone else's… like he was currently doing with Reede and Cece. He also still hunted on a nearly daily basis and was a volunteer guard at various stations around the village. The ancient Royal Family had designed him as a soldier and not a lapdog, so his inability to settle down didn't surprise her. He still had the energy of a twenty-three year old man, just with a bad leg, a poor hip, a blind eye and a mountain of emotional issues from the Calamity itself. And she'd expected the leg to go lame prior to the Calamity; honestly, due to how often he would throw his entire body weight onto an already abnormally small joint. Purah had already confirmed his blindness was cataract-related, but because Link is the stubborn man he is, she's not sure whether he had damaged his eye fighting the Divine Beasts (and simply refused to tell anyone until the eye was bad enough that he couldn't hide it) or whether it was because he was aging. She hoped it was Beast-related. If it was aging related, that meant he'd told her nearly immediately about his eye failing. A lack of stubbornness terrified her.

If they were still living prior to the Calamity, the Sheikah probably could have restored his vision, but alas, much of the quality-of-life technology being developed at the time was lost.

“Me and Daddy are gonna play spies with Narah and Nebb still, right?” Her daughter pawed at her arm and she began to rub the salve into her husband's favored leg.

He jerked away once when she tried to rotate the leg onto a better position, she gently pulled him closer. “Of course. You and me are gonna be the best spies.” A puppy's whine came from his lips. “That hurts.”

“I know it does, Link.” She kissed him as she worked.

Link's love for the other kids in the village made Zelda's heart soar. If he was able to settle into a mentor role for these Wolfbred-Hylian children, maybe it could help him move on from his bloody battle days and the days where he and Hylians were enemies. The children adored him. The four school-aged children were especially fond of her, of course, but even the littlest of the village children worshiped the ground Link walked on. And not even because he was a hero! The kids knew nothing about his heroics, or his royal status, he was simply ‘Grandpa Link’ to them, the old Wolfbred who lived out near the village entrance with Miss Zelda and had great stories and even greater food. He was also known for always being willing to wrestle with the children.

Of course, wrestling with multiple children probably wasn't the best for his arthritis, but it kept him in the village and out of trouble. Both Link and the little boys were significantly better behaved after the fact, reminding her of when Revali was alive and the two would always want to duel (and usually would break some amount of property in the process). Perhaps it was just part of being men from warrior tribes. As long as the children's parents didn't mind Link's rough manner of play (which most of them actually appreciated Link for doing so,) she was perfectly happy to let him indulge. He was definitely happier on all fours with children tugging on him from all sides.

His beloved finished rubbing the last of his joints. “Alright, Link, you can get up.” She offered him a hand in case he needed it.

He shook his head when she offered it. “I'm alright, love.” Once he was upright, he took their daughter down to prepare breakfast.

This world was so good for her. In this world, her little Zelda Ivee was one of many, many Wolfbred-Hylian individuals instead of the first one in ten thousand years. She was normal, not a ‘disgrace to the kingdom.’ Although she was supposed to arrive in the Hyrule of a century ago, Zelda was grateful to the Goddess that her daughter made it to the current age. Being able to welcome their little girl, beloved by all the friends they'd lost, helped her move on.

She knew Link would rather be in that Hyrule, despite his daughter's benefit. He did have friends here, but his best friends were buried a very long time ago. His mentors and family were left behind, his ‘safe and familiar’ lost now that he'd regained most of his memories… He'd rather have his sister again, instead of his sister's great-grandson. Reede tried , but he often just ended up butting heads with his ancestor. Link probably gave him a very stern talking to last night. She knew it didn't help that Link usually ended up alone at night, participating in the activities that he and his loved ones participated in with confusion and frustration that the others weren't interested. His culture often just left him so depressed and defeated… he probably felt that his daughter was his only chance at preserving and passing down the ways of the Wolfbred.

She'd originally wanted to press forward with Zelda Ivee's formal education, but decided not to after getting advice from Clavia that her dad should teach her about being a Wolfbred before her mother taught about being a lady. She hadn't realized the sheer amount of social development that Wolfbred have in their first few years of life.

For her next birthday, Zelda Ivee would accompany her father to a cave somewhere in the area and learn their history and why they have the traditions they do, just like Link did with his own father all those years ago.

Another concern that Zelda had uncovered during her research was that Wolfbred struggled with sudden lifestyle changes. They'd either completely avoid the change and protect their familiar or, if forced to change, would showcase signs of anxiety and hostility.

To say Link had a sudden lifestyle change would probably be the understatement of the century. Link had experienced multiple extreme lifestyle changes in the past few years. If the whole ‘waking up after one hundred years’ thing wasn't extreme enough, their daughter was born about four months after he rescued her, she retired him two years later due to blindness, he started developing joint pain at some point doing all of that and he really hadn't done much since her rescue except sit around at home and take care of their daughter. He'd gone from running lengths and lengths every single day to sitting on the floor with an infant.

Maybe an adventure was what her beloved needed to become himself again. A controlled one of course, he was half blind, but an adventure nonetheless.

“Zelda! Breakfast is ready!” Link called from the first floor, waving up at her as she finished placing everything on the desk.

“Coming, Link.” She quickly made her way down the stairs, and over to him. He kissed her happily before providing her with a warm meal, then served their daughter, then himself, and was seated at the table.

Despite his issues, she'd still have to say that Link was probably healthier than he'd been before the Calamity. He'd put on some weight since retirement, but she'd always believed he was a little too slim prior to the Calamity, and he was finally on a healthy sleep schedule instead of pacing around her for all hours of the day and night. It astounded her how stress, a chronic lack of sleep and a diet tailored for Hylian guards instead of tireless Wolfbred men had a more negative effect on his overall health than arthritis and blindness! In fact, the months just before Zelda Ivee's birth were probably the healthiest she'd ever seen him. His joints and eye were still healthy, as far as she knew, and he'd spent the six months prior to that listening to his body's needs. Of course, she'd also never seen him so stressed, but that was to be expected for such a time.

Their little girl was turning out so much like him. She wanted to be just like her dad, to be a real ‘Woofbred’ like him and make him proud.

She'd worried before the Calamity, that such a proud soldier like Link would struggle with a daughter. Of course she didn't tell him such. She didn't want him feeling pressured to ‘perform’ in his parental duties like her own father had often done to her. She confided in Urbosa, as she could not shake the fear with logic alone, and her dear friend assured her that her fears were unfounded.

And Urbosa was right. Link was a wonderful father to their daughter. In her likely biased opinion, he was the best ‘girl dad’ in the entirety of Hyrule. Of course, Zelda Ivee was born with her father's Wolfbred traits - his dewclaw-like thumbs, facial markings, fur-like hair and temperament - and she longed to be like him. Zelda had a fear that Link would not have been so doting had their little one been born with a more Hylian appearance and personality, or without such a strong desire to imitate Link. But, she tried to remind herself, her daughter was incredibly similar in personality to her husband. Link's female carbon copy, Zelda would jokingly say, even though the child had her green eyes, ear shape and figure. There was proof of this, right across the table from her: Zelda Ivee seated in her dad's lap as they ate, talking to her dad in his native tongue.

Zelda sighed in contentment as she ate the wonderful meal her husband had made. How did she get so lucky?

~~~~

Hyrule's Final Stand Masterlist