#I added some zelink | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thecagedsong · 8 months

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Hehe, this prompt gave me the excuse to finish this one, I wasn't quite sure where it was going until I added the prompt. @zeldaelmo Great job on the followers!

You may notice some similarities to Dear Hero. But that's just how fic writing goes. I hope you enjoy some more TP zelink, this time just after midnight.

Lanayru’s glow lit every corner of her cavern, the collapsed archways and hidden nooks, the clawshot grips and underwater plants. The lights spirit hadn’t been physically manifested for this long, in a long time. It felt nice, being allowed to truly stretch and lounge in her domain. She smiled down at the floating mortal, one of the few whose courage, wisdom, and power made it possible for the divine and mundane to co-exist.

“We’ve gone over economy, prophecies, politicians, military, agriculture, and I’ve told you all I know of the old legends and your ancestors.” Lanayru said, “What else would you like to discuss?”

“Marriage is my next important decision, I know,” Princess Zelda said, floating on her back in the cool spring water. Her white dress had been soaked hours ago, when she first dove in. “I haven’t let myself think about it beyond mental lists of people I’ve met that I don’t want beside me. I knew I wanted the decision to come up only after I claimed the throne, otherwise the decision of my husband would be highly influenced by either my father or the council. As queen, the decision is completely mine. For some reason, that almost makes the concept more frightening. I’ve asked for guidance on this decision from the goddesses, but they have yet to answer that particular prayer.”

“Of course they are silent,” Lanayru admonished, flicking her tail against the water, “When life was created, it was the goddesses, your patron Nayru in particular, who bestowed mortals with free will. They cannot violate their own laws by taking this choice away from you.”

“What if my choice is to turn it over to the goddesses?” Zelda asked, drifting to a standing position on a rock, her shoulders barely clearing the water, “What if my choice is to bow to their infinitely superior wisdom and foresight? Will they then send me a dream or a sign of my future husband? Perhaps inscribing their name or their next words to me on the inside of my wrist, letting me know that they are chosen for me?”

“That is a coward’s answer, and a fool’s,” the light spirit scolded, “Nothing is truly fore-ordained. Even your battle with the Hero against the Usurper was not pre-decided. At any point you could have made a different choice and let darkness reign. The goddesses merely know your soul and trusted you to make the right choice. When you made the right choice, then they were allowed to help you. That is the order set forth by their rules. Being afraid of making a mistake, so choosing not to choose, mocks Nayru’s gift and begs for you to be led astray.”

“So despite all my powers, despite the importance of this decision to the wellbeing of Hyrule, I must make this decision without aid?” Zelda asked with a frown.

Lanayru flicked water at the princess with her tail, “Work for goodness, and trust the goddesses to keep Hyrule from ruin. They will warn you if your decision is poor. In the meantime, while I am here, I can offer what wisdom I have. What do you seek in a consort?”

This may have been an odd conversation for most people to have with a guardian light spirit, who was most likely asexual and without gender, despite the feminine tones of her voice. Zelda imagined most women had this conversation with their mothers or other female relatives. Lacking those figures in her life, Zelda was here.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect during her Cleansing, a twelve-hour ritual before she would make her way to the Temple of Ages in Castletown, where she would be coronated by the three priestesses. Solitude, self-reflection, and possibly a visit from Lanayru, where she would ask the light spirit for a blessing, be blessed, and be sent on her merry reign, possibly.

Instead she spent time being rejuvenated, her magic and body were absorbing and rejoicing in the power of the spring, while picking the brain of the ancient being who saw Zelda as a naive younger relative. Zelda didn’t mind the implication and embraced a being who was willing to be blunt with her. It wasn’t as though she could discuss her future husband with anyone in Castletown, not without rumors sprouting.

“I want someone…who is good for Hyrule in the long run,” Zelda answered, “Someone who can bear their half of the crown well. So many proposals are based on the immediate aid they can offer Hyrule, like a noble’s wealth or a foreign prince’s trade agreement, but I want someone who will be good for Hyrule lifelong, and someone I can trust. The crown is heavy, I want someone who will be willing to bear their share, and only their share, for the rest of our lives.”

Zelda was expecting the ‘humph’ this time.

“Those sound like things that can best be learned over the course of your marriage. If you spend everyday waiting for someone to show who they will become, life will be ending when you find the right person, and they will have taken a chance and be with someone else. Try again,” Lanayru demanded.

Zelda thought a little longer, but the light spirit was patient, and it wasn’t like they were going anywhere until tomorrows’ dawn. “Very well, I want a suitor who has shown the potential for those things previously mentioned, by having enough life experience under their belt already to know they wont crack under pressure. I want someone who treats me as capable and respects my decisions. I want someone who knows how to work, but not someone too old to learn and be taught how to be king beside me.”

Lanayru snorted, but a little more good-naturedly, meaning Zelda was getting closer to the wisdom the spirit wanted to impart, “Hard work is the domain of commoners. Either marry one of them or listen to them and what they say about the suitor. Amongst other commoners, they will speak their mind about work ethics.”

“Maybe I will marry a commoner,” Zelda teased, “After all, the decision is completely mine. I know of two ancestors that did.”

“Politics and governance can be brutal. If you do pick someone unaccustomed to it, ensure it is someone either charismatic enough to win over your court, or someone who can call a nest of vipers home.”

Zelda kicked off her rock to float on her back again, “Sound advice. Although, it sounds as though you already have a type of someone in mind. Are you willing to share? Or is that too close to relying on the goddesses’ wisdom to be my own choice.”

Instead of the expected eyeroll, Lanayru was serious as she continued, “My final piece of advice is not to discount affection, as you have thus far. Much of what you will need your consort to be can be achieved if they care for you beyond your power.”

Zelda treaded water to look up at the large serpent. The serpent nodded at Zelda’s unasked question.

“Another is coming, and while his presence does not drive me away, the goddesses call me back to the sacred realm as midnight strikes. Go forward with my blessing, Your Grace, Daughter of Din, Farore, and Nayru, our Beloved Hylia. I predict you will reign with courage, wisdom, and power, my friend.”

Zelda swam to the center stone platform and raised her hand to touch the snout of the light snake with care. “Thank you for speaking with me, for setting me on a good course. Return home now, Lanayru, may you go with peace. Until we meet again.”

The spirit’s eyes closed and the body faded under Zelda’s touch. The scruff of a boot against gravel brought her to the other part of Lanayru’s parting message.

Another is coming.

Zelda took a silent but deep breath and slid under the water. She didn’t know what she was going to do, and she needed time to prepare. There were guards surrounding the cave, no one should have gotten through. They were stationed to have visual in every approachable direction, but far enough away that they would not be able to hear her.

This danger would have to be faced alone.

Her fingers pressed into the vines that grew down into the water, anchoring herself. Zelda’s magic wasn’t an issue at this spring, she could summon a Bow of Light, and she had enough knowledge of water magic to hold herself into the air.

Come out ready to attack, assess the threat, then dispose of it.

Zelda swam to a spot where she wouldn’t catch on any plants and set her plan into motion. A surge of water at her feet, air rushed around her and into her as she breached the surface with water continuing to support her, and she didn’t give herself more than a second before summoning her weapon, twisting in air to locate the intruder, aiming for the head.

“Link?” she gasped. The half-naked hero gaping broke her concentration. The Bow of Light dissolved from her fingertips and she flopped into the water below with a yelp. Water rushed into her nose and mouth as she involuntarily sucked in a breath, and it took a couple of seconds of treading water to expel it.

After wiping her face clean of tears and snot, she swam to an underwater pillar for standing, the water only coming to her knees here, and glared at the still gaping hero.

“What-what are you doing here?” she coughed out, her voice scratchy with the recent water intake.

“I…I can’t remember,” Link said, clearly flustered, “Ah, apparently I was being attacked by a water goddess, Milady.”

“Don’t mock me,” Zelda huffed and coughed out a bit more water, “I have seven guards surrounding every possible entrance to this cave, did you not think to ask them why?”

Link blushed and couldn’t seem to meet her face, “Oh, er, I didn’t see anyone because I swam directly to the spring entrance from the water temple. I didn’t mean anything improper by it, honest. I’ll just leave now.”

The clothes he had already discarded belonged to a set of Zora armor, that part was true enough. He turned to don the tunic again and flinched.

“It seems you remember your purpose for coming here,” she said, her voice amused now. The hero of her land was another human Lanayru said could commune with the light spirits with ease, especially now that Twilight has left his shadow. It was some mystery of the goddesses why Lanayru had to leave.

“Er, I was in the water temple cleaning up something nasty that had settled there, Ralis asked me to. It’s a small injury though, a red potion and some sleep will cure it just as well. I’ll leave you to your business Princess,” he explained, giving up on dressing in front of her and starting to limp towards the entrance with his clothes in his hands.

Zelda watched him for a moment, then shook her head. Four hours of conversation with Lanayru was already a strange purification ceremony beginning, might as well try for consistency if normality was unattainable.

“Come in the spring,” she encouraged. Link stopped hobbling away, “What I’m doing would be rather sullied if I refused the healing powers of the spring to another.” His brow pinched, but he softened when she smiled and gestured to the water. “As you can see, there is clearly enough space for two.”

Link hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the entrance to the spring, before limping towards the water. None of the pain he must have been feeling could be seen on his face, the only evidence was his uneven gait. At this angle she could finally see the injury, a large gash that started near his knee and carved a jagged line up to his hip, and another bloody line from the tip of his right shoulder across his collar bone.

Slowly, he made his way to the side of the cavern, where he could just drop in. Too slow, some water magic would pull him in quicker. No, that would be rude.

Once he was in the spring, Link couldn’t look at her, or speak, and he seemed to have decided that the best course of action would be to obey her commands while pretending not to exist.

If Zelda had tossed him into the water, there would at least be disbelief, possibly indignation, instead of painfully awkward silence.

“So, do you still spend your days solving problems for other people?” she asked with honest curiosity.

As a princess that among her greatest skills would be getting people to talk and listening to them. Her second greatest skill would be using that information well. Her third greatest skill would be talking so that others would listen and obey. Link’s discomfort with her presence would be dispelled before he was healed, she would make certain of it.

He jumped at her voice, and tilted his head, “Pardon, but what do you mean by ‘still’?”

“Midna was often irritated with your efforts to help others, much of the time she felt the bigger picture of saving Hyrule was neglected as you spoke with and aided Hyrule’s denizens. And something about petting cats. She was often irritated with your progress, but wise enough to not comment. I was wondering if you still spent your days listening to people and helping them when you can.” Zelda explained.

Link’s eyebrows rose and his mouth fell open as she talked. Apparently, Midna had never explained Zelda’s presence and limited awareness during the second half of their adventure. She waited for his answer.

“I suppose I do,” he said slowly, turning away from her to talk at the wall. “Someone’s got to help the little guy.”

“Midna was irritated with it, but I never was,” Zelda clarified for him, her eyes drifting to the wall as she recalled that time, “I was glad. I was glad that the chosen hero knew how to serve others, that it is a way of life for you. Growing up in a community as small as Ordon, everyone must have helped each other.”

“Yeah, I reckon so, Princess,” Link said, and she saw him start to tap his fingers. His body was almost turned towards her, but he kept his eyes in the other direction. His fingers stilled, and his body turned back to face the wall.

Eventually he sighed and looked away. No good.

Well, no good for conversation, but it would be a lie to say the sight of his bare back to her was entirely unwelcome.

“You may call me Zelda,” she said.

He spun around, “It wouldn’t be proper, Princess!”

Zelda smiled, letting her eyes crinkle, “Neither is calling Prince Ralis by his first name alone. Titles are verbal signs of respect, while lack of titles, when respect is present, signifies closeness and… familiarity. Do you extend this closeness to Prince Ralis, but deny me?” Her voice was light, teasing.

Hopefully she got her tone right. She hadn’t been able to speak like this since her father died. Back when she was a woman first and a monarch eventually. Back when marriage was her largest decision, and she was concerned with flirting and diplomacy over power and politics. It seemed like an age, instead of a measly three years.

Link’s gaping mouth was enough of a reason to keep going. Marriage was once again her largest decision, it wouldn’t hurt to practice flirting, she reasoned. He was certainly handsome enough to warrant a little of it.

“I-um, I didn’t mean,” Link stumbled over the words, eyes drawn downwards as a flush crept upwards. “It’s just you’re my princess, and Ralis—I mean Prince Ralis and I didn’t want-I didn’ mean you’re mine like a possession—”

Zelda laughed, softly, cutting him off.

“Don’t fret, I’m only teasing.”

Zelda swam closer to where he was leaning over the ledge. She gripped the vines beside him. He blushed redder and redder the closer she got. She pulled herself up to mirror his position, their elbows touching.

“Please look at me,” she asked.

He forced his eyes upwards.

“I would like for you to call me by my name, Link.”

Link swallowed, his throat bobbing, “O-okay, Zelda.”

Zelda smiled and nodded, then dropped back down into the water, hooking her foot around a vine to anchor herself near him. She wasn’t looking at him now, but his eyes were still on her.

Good.

She took the time to play with her unbound hair in the spring water, waiting.

Link spoke next, “Er, can I ask what you’re doing here? And who you were talking to?”

Ah, that had been his question. She released her hair and looked over the cavern.

“I was consulting with the Light Spirit Lanayru,” Zelda said, imagining the warm serpent that had been there minutes before. “It was her voice you heard. My coronation is tomorrow, and spending the night bathing in a sacred spring is a purifying ritual to prepare me, as well as seeking the blessing of the Light Sprits over my reign.”

“Apologies!” Link said, shaking his head, “Thousand apologies, Milady-I mean Zelda. I didn’t mean to interrupt something so grand!”

“You didn’t,” Zelda quieted him, “Lanayru has spent the past three hours counseling me, it was time for her to return. As for the purification ritual, well, I was planning on meditating for the next several hours, which is as boring as it sounds. Stay and talk for a while, please?”

Link seemed to struggle, but eventually said, “If you’d like, Princess.”

Despite his agreement, he seemed content to heal, tense and silent beside her, instead of speaking.

“Tell me Link,” Zelda said eventually, “I was a little cut short with Lanayru when I asked her about the proper qualities for a King. What are your thoughts?”

“A king?” Link asked, his eyebrows pushing together, “A ruler should be concerned with the needs of his people foremost. They should be someone that can make alliances, and someone who prefers peace, but is prepared for conflict. You are already all that and more, P-Zelda,” he forced himself to correct when she made a face, then repeated, “You are already that and more, Zelda.”

Zelda pulled herself out of the water to sit on the ledge, taking a moment to wring out her hair, “I’m glad you think so highly of me,” she smiled, hopefully hiding the way hearing him say her name made her blush.

Link had turned to face the wall as soon as she pulled out of the water, but his shoulders were relaxed as he responded, “All of us in the kingdom think that highly of you, I’m just one of the lucky folk that get to see it for myself on occasion.”

Zelda never seen a man completely undressed, and despite the wound splitting his thigh and hip, Link retained the Zora greaves. Zelda had seen soldiers practice without their shirts occasionally, and, if memory served, Link was muscled differently than most of her soldiers. A breadth and sturdiness that must come from farmwork as well as swordsmanship. He was certainly shorter than many, but the picture of coiled power rather than a runt. Broad, strong, and hair like the wheatgrass that covered Death Mountain’s foothills in summer.

Zelda shook her head, wringing her hair some more. A couple of minutes of practice flirting and she was back to silly daydreams.

“My question wasn’t concerning the qualities of a good ruler for myself, per se, but rather, what qualities I should seek in a husband. I was hoping you would have some insight as to what makes a good couple, possibly a good match for me. What should I take into account when deciding on a consort?”

He had tensed up again, and Zelda refused to entertain the thought of massaging his shoulders for more than a moment. There was flirting, then there was abuse of her station and harassment.

“Why would a husband be on your mind?” Link asked carefully, still staring at the vines climbing the wall in front of him, “Lots of folk assumed that you fought so hard to be crowned unwed so that you could guide Hyrule without a king trying to tell you how to do it, but I want to know from you before I say anythin’.”

There were many answers to his question. One prominent answer was that Zelda only wanted the choice for herself, and she wasn’t foolish enough to leave Hyrule without a successor forever. Dismiss the question by saying Hyrule knew little of her motives. Explain the greater political position being crowned while unwed would give her in the future, as her husband would become a prince consort and need her approval to become king, rather than both her coronation and her husband’s being at the discretion of the Council. All these answers were true.

Something about the moment drew out an answer far more personal. Maybe it was the lingering peace from the light spirit, maybe her already soaked appearance and his half-dressed state encouraged vulnerability. Or maybe it was the fact that he was one of the few people who asked questions about her reasoning before telling her what to do or what she was thinking.

“The decision is entirely my own now. As a queen, no one could possibly have authority to decide for me. And . . . and I think I’m tired of being alone,” she said softly, combing her hair with her fingers and staring at a dripping stalagmite across the spring. “I have proven to myself and my kingdom that I am worthy of my crown, that I am strong enough alone. I know I don’t need anyone. But I want someone. Is that…okay? Am I allowed to wish for someone to serve Hyrule by my side? To want . . . to want to be loved as a wife is?”

Zelda glanced at Link, who was finally looking at her. He seemed to be studying every aspect of her face, committing it to memory, and she felt pinned in place. No, he wasn’t trying to memorize her, he was shifting his image of her. This had happened a couple of times before, with very special people, when they realized that there was a person behind their princess. She let out a breath and gave a smile, letting him see her, forcing herself not to shy away.

“Rusl and Uli,” Link said at last, looking away abruptly, his ears turning pink at the tips. “When I think of marriage, I think of this young married couple from Ordon. Rusl taught me how to fight and hunt, Uli taught me everything else. They just…love and respect each other so much. Though they have different responsibilities and skill sets. They complement each other, and listen to each other, and they have the same goal for a happy home they are both always working towards.”

She let his words hang in the air, and she knew that one day soon she would have to meet these two. Perfect complements. Rusl of Ordon sounded familiar though, maybe she had already met one of this pair. She shook her head.

“I believe that you choose who you love,” she said, letting herself slide onto her back and stare at the ceiling, “My current plan is to pick someone who will be good for Hyrule, someone who I know respects me. I will choose to love them each day for the qualities I originally admired and look for new things to love about them each night. Is that possible, do you think? Will that give me a relationship as supportive as Rusl and Uli’s. Or is that an Occa’s milk dream?”

There was nothing but the sound of water for a while. Her feet dangling into the spring, she laid on her back and watched the mysterious light of the spring reflect through the water and dance upon the ceiling. The one daydream she allows herself still, one that had supported her through the worst of the Invasion, to lie beside someone she loved with perfect peace.

“Love always seemed more like blowing up a boulder to me,” Link said at last, and Zelda raised herself and twisted to raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugged and continued, “Telma, for instance, she was making her way through life, then met Renaldo, and boom, she sees things differently, a boulder is cleared from her path, letting her be somewhere new, someone new. You can’t re-wind time so that the boulder isn’t smashed anymore, you’ll always love that person from there on out. Renaldo didn’t have a boulder smashing moment, so Telma’s there alone, grown some and in a new place, until another boulder smashes and she goes somewhere else, hoping that person meets her there.”

Zelda couldn’t help it, she giggled. She couldn’t force it into a more respectable laugh, and was stuck there, giggling at the Hero of Twilight, “Love is like blowing up a boulder. I love it.” She turned around and flipped onto her belly and folded her arms to match Link, only she was out of the water completely while he was still soaking his body. Their faces a foot apart. “So, have any boulders blown up for you?”

Link huffed and turned his head to look at a wall, “Okay, so I stink at metaphors. Point is, there are parts of it you can’t control. I think your way of thinking and acting would forge a really strong bond and partnership. A steady love with a solid foundation, but pick someone that affects you and is affected by you. Makes you guess, makes you think, makes you shiver occasionally, otherwise there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to grow, as Uli would say.”

“Someone’s a romantic,” Zelda teased, and watched his cheeks and ears grow red again, all the while thinking about what he said. It was uncomfortably familiar. More seriously she replied, “Lanayru said the same thing, or close enough. Her advice was to remember that affection and attraction can build the rest of the qualities I would like to see my future husband display towards ruling the kingdom, and it would make me happier, knowing he found me beautiful and loveable.”

Link fidgeted, but it was a much shorter silence before he asked his question, which Zelda considered a roaring success.

“What guys are available for you to consider? Is there a pre-approved list somewhere?”

Zelda giggled, and then sighed at the thought, her head coming down to rest on her folded forearms. “I suppose it is important to have suitors before choosing between them. Several people presented themselves as suitors for me before the council, but all were rejected at my insistence that my energy was needed for re-building, not courting. After my coronation, any potential suitor would have to come before me on my throne and ask permission to court me. It would certainly be a test of courage.”

“So men have to present their suit?” Link asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seems like a poor system, those who go after power are rarely those who should be trusted with it.”

Zant and Ganondorf were present in both their minds.

“I could always go a courting,” Zelda mused then laughed, ducking her head to hide her smile. “That would be hilarious. Nerve racking surely, but men have been doing it for ages, I’m sure I have enough courage in me to try my hand at it.”

“You mean…” Link asked, trying to picture it.

“Exactly,” Zelda said, laughter still evident in her voice, “I go knocking at his door, gift in hand, and ask for permission to court him from his family. I invite him on rides through the countryside and I ask him to dinner. We discuss families and politics and friends. I’ll brag about my scars from the war and he’ll ohh and aww over my grit. Then I ask him to marry me. A perfect fairy tale, right?” She laughed again, eventually having to put her head all the way down to quell the snickers. “Oh my, the man willing to let me court him would certainly have enough humor to be king.”

“I think it’s a brilliant plan,” Link said, grinning at her, “You’ll stay in control of the relationship without forcing anyone to do anything, like it would be if you asked straight out as queen. You would know they respected you and your decisions, and you can practice finding things to love about them before anything is irreversible.”

Zelda started, “You really think so? I assumed a man would be embarrassed to let the relationship be so far out of his control. Would you let a woman court you, instead of the other way around?”

“I’d be flattered. I’d want a bit more a say though, so maybe we switch off choosing and organizing activities, show off some of my own scars. Though if I didn’t like her, I’d also be okay with sayin’ no during one of the dates.”

“Hmm,” Zelda said, closing her eyes and letting herself imagine it. Knocking on a little house (say it was in Ordon) The nerves of being turned down combatted by the fluttery feeling of not being alone as he opens the door. (Link smiles because he said he’d be okay with it and this is just an example imagining anyway.) Of taking control of her life and going to court someone, asking only for their time in the beginning. (Maybe they could ride Epona together, it had been exhilarating last time, though much of that due to the battle.) She stayed in her day dream for a minute, feeling warm and safe, then she felt a small splash.

“Link?” she asked, dragging herself onto her elbows.

“Of, Er, sorry,” Link said, shaking out his hair, “It’s just, I think I still have some slime from the monster in my hair. I was trying to rinse it without bothering you.”

“I don’t mind,” Zelda said, shaking the relaxation out of her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall asleep anyway, and I was fairly close. Do you have any other questions to keep me awake? Do you need soap from your pack?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, blushing.

Zelda sat up again, shifting to put her feet back over the water. “So Link, you’ve told me that you want a complimentary and respectful relationship modeled after your friends Rusl and Uli, but what does that mean for you? What would you like to see in your future spouse?”

“I’m not quite sure,” he admitted, “Give me a second to think and get this slime out.” Zelda nodded and he disappeared under water. While she waited, Zelda used light magic to make figures of light above the spring.

Once upon a time, Zelda would have been scolded for doing so, her teachers demanding she treat her magic with reverence and save her power only for the most dire of circumstances. But Zelda wasn’t a student anymore, she wasn’t a child, and with the constant magic rejuvenation of the light spirit’s spring, there was no reason not to practice. Using beams of light, she drew a triforce, then the Master Sword. Hyrule’s crest came next, a ladybug on a flower. The ceiling looked like her notepad after one of Councilwoman Myra’s excessively long rants about the Gorons and how difficult trade was with them because they didn’t need the same things that Hylians and Zora needed.

That was when Link surfaced. The portion of the Zora armor he was wearing must have expanded his ability to stay underwater, but not indefinitely without the full set. Her light doodles were reflected in his eyes as he glanced between her and her creation.

“That’s beautiful,” he said, letting himself drift back next to her.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, then let the light disperse, “Sometimes I like to remind myself that magic can be used for more than life and death. Now, do you have an answer for me yet, or do you need more time?”

Link sighed and pulled himself up to sit beside her. A quick glance showed the cut on his thigh had become a thinner red line, their time would be up soon.

“I said I wanted a complement, but I don’t know what that means for me,” Link admitted, “Someone as independent as me, I guess. I have lots of friends in lots of places, and I wouldn’t want a wife who would keep me from visiting them. She could be willing to come with me, or be fine on her own while I go out helping people and visitin’. I want her to have her own hopes and dreams, something to work towards, and I could help her with. I want to know that she’s fine when I’m gone, but happy to see me, because I’m me and while she doesn’t need me, she wants me.”

“A woman of ambitions and goals? I could see that,” Zelda said, smiling at the thought of Link’s partner being a force for good, just like he was, but with direction.

Link laughed, “Really? I’ve felt like it’s a stupid idea. I feel tired a lot of the time, and logically the cure for that is someone who’s peaceful, knows how to make a home to come back to. But a larger part of me says that ain’t right, that when I’m somewhere peaceful, I enjoy it for an hour before I feel un-needed and move on. I know what a home looks like, thanks to Rusl and Uli, but they aren’t my home. I guess I want my company desired on a personal level, but not needed, and my abilities needed on a different level, but not always wanted. So not only am I a romantic, I also seem to be real picky.”

“I wouldn’t consider someone picky because they wanted a partner of ambitions and goals,” Zelda argued back. “Those are the most interesting people.”

Link made a noise of agreement, then changed position to float on his back in the water. Zelda made herself slip back into the spring, to help her stay awake and cool some of the blush in her cheeks.

Zelda might not be the most experienced in relationships, but the only thought on her mind when Link spoke about someone with ambitions and goals, was I have ambitions and goals. She was twenty-two, she was the literal bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, and it was still a little embarrassing to admit she and Link had basically been describing the other.

She let herself look over his floating form, safe from him knowing about her assessment. Was the answer both so simple and so complex? Did Link realize what he had been describing? Could he ever be interested?

Tired of these thoughts, she took a deep breath and dove under the water. On the stone floor, she let out the rest of her breath and folded herself into a mediation pose, closing her eyes. Leaving her sunk. Here, she could hear her heartbeat. Here was a warmth to the spring. When her lungs grew tight, she used her hands and a spell to draw air from the water, separating the molecules at the edge of her lips, and took a breath to sustain her peaceful meditation.

Her heartbeat. Her rule. Her family.

The goddesses would not let her stray down wrong paths. She had a plan, even if just her silly courtship idea. Zelda could meditate properly now, eyes-closed, magic being expended at a sustainable rate, and she could truly think about all the things she had talked about with Lanayru. The kind of person she was, and who she needed to continue to become to be the queen the people of Hyrule needed. She wanted to build. She wanted to research and start a university. She wanted to build up trade with Holodrum, and start political relations with Termina. She wanted to build two new bridges now that the old—

Her head was thrust forward, and foreign air forced into her lung through the press of lips. Her eyes burst open, only to be covered a second later as a helmet was jammed on her head, and she was pulled upwards.

“Zelda! Princess Zelda!” Link yelled, as soon as they hit air, hauling her onto a pillar only a few inches below the water level.

She slapped away his hand, startling him into being quiet.

“What are you doing?” she demanded and yanked his Zora helmet off. Angrily, she then had to yank all her hair out of her eyes to glare at him properly. It took only a second of looking at him to realize what had happened. In her efforts to get away from thoughts of him, she hadn’t told him her plan. He had seen her, looking lifeless at the bottom of the spring, and had done everything he could to save her from drowning.

“I, er…” Link fumbled. Zelda knew she should calm down, it was a perfectly reasonable assumption to make, and all actions taken were for the preservation of her life, but he had kissed her to breath air into her, and he was still shirtless, and they were both bright red and she didn’t feel like calming down. “I thought you were drowning,” he said at last.

“I figured that out,” she said haughtily and opened her mouth to say more, but Zelda didn’t have a logical continuation of the thought. Nor was this the proper road to take if she wanted him as her friend. Certainly not if she ever wanted him as something more.

Taking a deep, obvious breath, she slowly released the air, making her focus on that. A better course of action.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” she said, her cheeks burning. “I had cast a spell that allowed me to extract air from the water around me, and I should have told you to keep you from worrying. I’m sorry.”

It was the best she had come up with in her flustered state. Link let out a breath of his own, though it looked like they were back to square one in terms of how comfortable he was with her. She needed something better.

“I could show you,” she offered hesitantly. It was common curtesy to never bespell anyone, and rude to even ask. It was all she could come up with, as flustered as she was.

He looked at her and her cheeks flushed. This time her eyes darted away, remembering the brief moment of warmth and air when his lips breathed for her. She couldn’t look him in the eye, and for some reason, that made him relax.

“Sure, that sounds like an interesting experience,” Link said, and she glanced up at him. This time he was smiling, trying to put her at ease.

Sitting on the edge of the underwater pillar, Zelda took a couple of extra breaths to steady herself, regain control and focus. When she was ready, she started making the proper motions and pulling at the magic inside herself, the magic that sang through her blood.

Link was sitting beside her, watching her hands, and she hesitated only a moment before reaching forward and brushing her fingers against his lips, laying the spell there. He blushed again, but didn’t do anything else as she finished.

“It’s pretty pure oxygen, so unhealthy for an extended period of time, but it pulls it directly from the water and releases the hydrogen in bubbles,” she explained while crafting a second spell for herself, “While I can support one person indefinitely in this spring, we should be good for ten minutes, with me supporting the spell for the both of us.”

“I just dive?”

“Breathe normally. You’ll feel water at your lips, but only air will enter your mouth.”

“Here goes,” and Link slid off the pillar.

Zelda took another few steadying breaths, reapplied the spell to herself, then slid after him, her skirt was carefully tied to her thighs to prevent it floating up too much.

Link smiled as she joined him in the center of the spring. He hesitated, then asked, “Can we talk?”

“Yes,” Zelda answered needlessly, “How does it feel?

Link examined his fingers, “It’s different than Zora armor. Your magic feels…bright. Bright and clean. I like it.”

“How did Twili magic feel?” Zelda asked.

Link shrugged, “Zant and Ganondorf felt clogged and confusing, like the spells didn’t know what to do, just that it wanted to harm. Kinda like the Castletown sewers. Midna’s felt deep, I think. Old and deep, like being in an underground temple. Kinda musty. Sorry, but that’s the best I got.”

“No, I understand what you mean,” Zelda said, thinking about her own experiences with the respective magics. She shook her head, and let out a flirty smirk, “Want to race?”

“I still have the zora greaves on,” Link said, flicking the fins on his feet.

“Well, what do you usually do while under water?”

Link shrugged, “Get to wherever I’m going, usually. Sometimes watch the fish if I’m taking a rest. I’m not normally underwater with someone else. What do you do when you’re underwater with someone, besides racing?”

Queen Rutela had been the one to teach her this spell during her nineth summer at the Domain. Zelda had learned to swim, they had played with metal ball toys, and . . .

“Were you taught how the Zora dance?” Zelda asked.

Link shook his head.

“Would you like to learn?”

He searched her face for something, and evidently found it, because he nodded.

“I’ll teach you the simple step, since there is no music,” Zelda said. “Maybe I can teach you more if you are going to Ralis’ coronation at the end of the summer. But for now, take my hand.”

His hand was wider than hers, his fingers thick with callouses. Zelda arranged them in the proper grip and stepped slightly out of alignment with him.

“The dance is meant to be accommodate currents and circular within this singular space. The best dancers don’t move out of a six foot radius from their starting position during the entire dance. These hands press flatly,” she said, holding up her free hand, which he pressed lightly against hers. “And think of this like a scissor step. We both move our right feet out passed the other’s hip, then snap our legs together.”

She did one, and Link was slowly dragged through the water by their held hands, until they returned to the starting position.

“Step 1-2, Snap 3,” she paced the motions to the count. “Step 1-2, Snap 3.”

She repeated it until Link caught on. First over spinning them, then off count, making her laugh as she was accidentally flung wide. His greaves were the real problem, but she didn’t mind, she was having fun as they figured out the medium of his steps. Then the reverse when Zelda’s right leg grew tired. Zelda taught him how to counterbalance the movement so you didn’t go too far towards the surface or the floor.

Finally they were moving on count, and Link grinned at her, breathing heavier for the workout. Zelda automatically reached forward and touched the corner of his mouth, checking her spell work.

She caught his eyes in that moment and froze.

His breathing didn’t get lighter as her fingers continued to linger there. Zelda knew she was taller than him on an intellectual level, but at that moment he seemed to engulf every part of her vision, and part of her thought that this was how he would always look, if his outward appearance reflected even a smidge of the greatness he had found inside himself since the first time they met.

Her eyes drifted down to his shoulder, where the wound was long gone, then back up to his eyes. A wolf, for all that they were in the terrain of fish.

Link’s free hand copied her motion, his thumb pressing against the corner of her mouth.

“Is this the next step you’re going to teach me?” he asked.

“No, I wanted to check my spell,” she said, dropping her hand. He dropped his at the same time. “I don’t remember the other moves well enough to teach you.”

“Then I suppose we’ll learn together at Ralis’ coronation party,” Link said. “Though I should probably go tell him he can use the temple for it, now that it’s cleaned out. He couldn’t plan anything until I killed the scalera there.”

“Oh, of course,” Zelda said. “You are healed, and you should probably find a way to leave through the lake, my guards might take issue with your presence, should you be noticed.”

He nodded, and began to swim upwards, Zelda a beat behind him, only letting go of hands once they reached the surface.

They both climbed out of the spring, and Zelda turned her back to allow Link to re-don his zora armor.

“Thanks for the dancing lesson, Zelda,” Link said, and she turned back to see him all packed up. “And for letting me use the spring even though you’re here for something special.”

“Of course, any time,” Zelda said, a little helplessly.

He gave her a last smile then headed for the exit.

No, Zelda was brave enough for this.

She got to her feet and latched onto his gauntlet. Link turned back to her. The words she wanted to say shriveled on her tongue.

“Prince Ralis is attending my coronation, you won’t find him at the Domain this eve,” Zelda said instead. “There is a seat for you, during my coronation I mean, if you wish to attend. You can inform Prince Ralis there of what you have accomplished.”

“Oh, alright then,” Link said. “Why would you have a seat saved for me?”

Because there is no Hyrule without him? Because she hoped he’d come, even though he hadn’t set foot in Castletown since dropping her off after their return from the desert? Because if he did come, Zelda wanted him to see her accept her crown, and so he needed a spot she would be able to find quickly.

Be brave.

“Because I had hoped you would come, even if the invitation I sent to Ordon went unanswered,” Zelda said. “Is that alright?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I guess I haven’t checked my mail at home for a while. Thanks for saving my seat. I’d love to see you take up your crown. Though it’s not like anyone else could after the light spirits acknowledged you as the rightful ruler.”

Awkward. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

“Is . . . uh, that it?” Link asked, lightly tugging on his hand to remind her she still grasped it.

BE BRAVE.

“No, could I . . . may I call upon you in Ordon?” she said, unable to keep the red from her cheeks. “Perhaps, two weeks from now? During the day, not just after midnight.”

Zelda helplessly watched Link put it all together, hoping she looked more confident than she felt. Hoping she hadn’t been imagining things and that he hadn’t just been polite.

Slowly, his lips spread into a smile. “I’d like that, Princess.”

#tp zelink #zelink #just after midnight #zelelmo prompt #Flirty zelda for once #TP Zelda #TP Link #Princess Zelda

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clearwillow · 11 months

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Another Nailed It oneshot, this time for @inukag-week day 2: Possession. It takes place after By the Book and references some points from that story, so it’d help to have read that one first. It’s also very spicy, long (27 pages), and you might want to glimpse the tags.

Summary: When he looked down at her and saw that she wasn't making light of his issue, Inuyasha felt his gut twist. "I love you," he sighed, bending slightly to catch her lips with a soft kiss. "You're the only woman I would ever be willing to try this for. You're also the only woman that's ever made the demon want to come out."

Rated: E

AO3 | FFN

Tag list below the cut; let me know if you’d like to be added

@keichanz @lemonlushff @dawnrider @mamabearcat @inuykago @sailorbabydoll92 @zelink-inukag @itzatakahashi @superpixie42 @sticky-llama-perfection @the-rebel-alchemist @digitl-art-monstr @theinuyashareader @eternalnight8806-3 @cstorm86 @sarah-writes-stories @animelove1313 @nartista @smmahamazing @xfangheartx @cyncyn981 @bluejay785 @witchygirl99 @lady-dark-69 @kazeinori @willowandfog @lavendertwilight89 @gaysonthefloor @senneth-pendra @ruddcatha @pinkpigeonstudio @shinidamachu @cammysansstuff @little-inukag-obsessed @arcprz @liz8080 @trying-not-to-loveu @wulfintheforest @memusicmuse @princessinume @hnn-wnchstr @that-weird-kid-charlie @cannibalsforbreakfast @mr-fairywings @nsr0716 @eringobroke @ladyphoenix0711 @malditamigs @fawn-eyed-girl @littlestuffstohide @smh1821 @karina-inuphantom @dreaming-of-soup @irrationalandimpossible @boostyourmind-blog @anisaanisa @inussunflower @sacred-arrow @nillavanilla21 @yusukesmomjeans @lordofthechips @bluehawaiicat @kawaiichan67 @kagometaishostory @hopidoodle @omgitscharlie @themusicalshoo @heynikkiyousofine @preciouslyours @roseheartwhitefox @brokenangelwings22 @banra-yar @knittingknots @scaponigifs @shardetector @fudalfighter @dchelyst

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #inukag week day 2 #inukag week #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfiction

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redisaid · 10 months

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The World Will Only Darken Without Candlelight - Chapter 1

The Fox and the Bird

Zelda thinks she’s in for a disappointing summer after she learns that she’s failed to get the highly competitive internship she wanted. That means she has to come back home…back to her father’s renaissance faire to be Princess Zelda for yet another year in a row. Only this year isn’t like all the rest, especially not with this weird new knight who's always following her around.

It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s a Hallmark Channel movie. It’s an episode of Scooby Doo. It’s a modern retelling of Breath of the Wild, but one where everyone works at a kinda shitty renaissance faire.

AKA, in which I fuck up again and start writing a new longfic for a fandom I don't normally write for. Oh, and it's another crackpot modern AU. This will also eventually be Zelink, because I can’t help myself after ToTK.

7040 Words

Read it on Ao3!

Shall we stay inside our shells, As the reaper takes his prey? The world will only darken without candlelight. With you I think I’ll try to get to the other side.

“Purah please. If you’re going to ask me all these questions, can you at least turn the music down?”

Red eyes peered at Zelda over the red rims of her ridiculous glasses. And not at the road. Definitely not at the road.

“Please?” she continued to plead. “And watch the road?”

“University made you so boring,” Purah sighed as she relented, fulfilling both requests by turning down the throbbing bass of her beloved EDM down and looking back to the road just in time to honk at the car in front of her that she’d almost rear-ended.

“I’ve always been rather boring, thank you,” Zelda said in her defense. “And while I appreciate you coming to pick me up, I was hoping to make it home alive.”

“Uh, bad news about that,” Purah said, biting her lip hard enough that Zelda could see it beyond the red streak in her otherwise snow white hair.

“Don’t tell me--”

“--Too late for that,” Purah conceded. “Daddy dearest wants me to bring you straight to rehearsal.”

Zelda groaned, then immediately let out a yelp of surprise as she held onto the handle above Purah’s passenger seat for dear life. Purah was swerving across three lanes of the highway to make the correct exit to get to the castle, and she was making it everyone’s problem.

The castle where Zelda’s father played King over his renaissance festival every summer, and she had been his little Princess Zelda for as long as she could remember. The ruined castle he’d somehow managed to purchase from the historical society decades ago, and had made it his life’s goal to turn into a venue for the ultimate renaissance faire. The best in Central Hyrule, so the newspaper ads always claimed. Really, it was always a sort of thrown together thing, with far more dramatics than polish.

Still, it was good fun, but definitely not how she planned to spend this summer in particular. Not how she had planned to spend any more of her summers ever again, if she could help it.

“He can’t just give me one afternoon?” she asked, even as Purah and her erratic driving had already made the decision for her.

Purah responded to that with as much of a shrug as she could manage while driving. “Apparently not. You know how he gets during the week before.”

“You know he told me he was going to pick me up from the airport? I bet he never had any intention of doing so,” Zelda noted, hugging the backpack that there wasn’t any room for in the trunk close to her chest.

“I, well, uh, I can’t say for certain,” Purah offered to that with a shrug. “He seemed in a hurry when he asked me, so at least I don’t think he planned that. He’s all in a tizzy about this new version of the Champions’ Tournament they’re doing.”

“Urbosa told me about that,” Zelda chimed in. “She said dad hired some new kid who’s really good. But that’s odd Purah, don’t you think? He doesn’t hire new people, especially not to be knights.”

“I mean, he is really good, that new guy,” Purah confirmed and began swinging an invisible sword across the dashboard. “Weird, but good.”

“Purah, no offense meant, but anyone who wants to work at a renaissance faire is weird.”

Purah, with her red-streak in her white hair, obnoxious glasses, little red hatchback that had more bumper stickers than bumper and a trunk so full of cables and costume parts that there was barely room for Zelda’s suitcases in it, just shrugged off this offense.

She’d worked for the faire since before she probably legally should have. This year would no doubt be the same as any other, with her taking charge of getting all the technology up and running--from speakers and lights down to the registers up at the ticket stands and food stalls--but also somehow finding time to create and manage an inventory of increasingly elaborate costumes for the cast. In fact, there had been no room in the backseat for Zelda’s suitcases either, because there was an entire Lynel costume in various states of completion stored there.

Purah shrugged, then offered a biting response, “Not as weird as people born into renaissance faire royalty.”

“Like I’d choose this,” Zelda sighed.

“Speaking of choices, I don’t get it,” Purah said as she turned onto one of Castle Town’s main thoroughfares, honking through her pause at the unfortunate soul who was going too slow in front of her. “I’m assuming you’re here because you didn’t get that internship. Besides me, of course, and maybe Robbie, you’re literally the smartest person I know. Why didn’t they give it to you?”

“I…don’t really know.”

It was an honest statement, maybe the most honest Zelda had been with both Purah and herself since getting into this car.

The director of the internship program had all but assured her that this last round of reviews was a formality. She was a shoe-in, what with her impressive academic credentials and the fact that she aced both rounds of interviews. But the email had come a week before the end of this last semester, saying she had been rejected in favor of more qualified candidates.

Who in all of Hyrule was more qualified than her? She’d worked her entire life to get into this field, with the goal of working for this very program. She’d studied and studied, filled her first three years at Hateno University with an insane course load that would make just about any other student break down into tears. Nevermind that she’d let those tears get the best of her sometimes, but never where anyone could see.

Though she certainly wasn’t proud to admit it, more than a few of those tears were shed that day she got the email. Zelda honestly didn’t remember much of that afternoon. She didn’t want to. She only knew that she managed to call her father in the evening, and he’d booked her a flight home.

Home. Was Castle Town really home anymore? Did she want it to be?

She shook her head to herself, lest she start spiraling in Purah’s car. The passenger’s seat of a cluttered hybrid, with still thrumming bass vibrating her bones, was not exactly the best place for a mental breakdown.

Plus, Zelda had promised herself she wasn’t going to do this. She was just going to have a normal summer. Well, as normal a summer as she could have, working at the renaissance faire yet again.

“You not having anything else to say about it speaks volumes, chatterbox,” Purah noted. “I’m sure your dad didn’t tell you this, so someone’s gotta. You know that you not getting this internship isn’t the end of the world, right? You’re still here. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

She reached out to squeeze Zelda’s arm, mostly missing and squeezing her backpack instead, with only two fingers making actual contact with the skin just beneath the sleeve of her blue and white blouse.

“I appreciate it Purah, but I’m fine,” Zelda assured her, back to lying again.

“You’re not fine. You’re almost as quiet as the new guy. And he doesn’t talk,” Purah told her.

“At all?”

Purah shook her head. “Nope. Or at least I’ve never heard him talk. Presumably he can. I know your dad interviewed him somehow. But that’s the whole schtick they’re using for him: The Silent Knight. He either just isn’t chatty to an extreme degree or very committed to the character.”

Zelda sighed, finding herself looking out the window as the city made way, buildings and busy streets alike seeming to step aside, opening up to a view of the ruined castle on the hill.

“It sounds like he fits right in with the rest of the Champions.”

“Revali hates him,” Purah stated.

“Revali hates everyone,” was Zelda’s immediate response.

“That’s very true. But Revali especially hates him because he’s this year’s winner,” Purah pointed out.

“You’re telling me that my father hired some new guy for the Champions’ Tournament, and that he’s making him the winner this year? Purah, you’ve got to be joking,” Zelda said, finally letting go of her vice grip on her backpack to turn fully toward Purah, or as much her seatbelt would allow.

While there had always been a bit of a revolving door of cast members in the Champions’ Tournament--the nightly knight show of jousting and stage combat that had been both the centerpiece and grand finale of every faire day--the honor of “winning” the scripted tournament was passed between her father’s four long-time knights. Mipha would win on feats of grace and compassion or from her deft skills with the spear. Cocky Revali would be handed a scenario where only his superior aim and archery knowledge could pull ahead of the other competitors. Daruk would impress the crowds with his raw strength. Urbosa arguably had the most skill with one on one sword and shield combat of all of them, and would get to show off for her win with a dramatic duel.

But never in the history of the faire had anyone else been allowed to win the scripted tournament.

“Look, I’m as surprised as you are, but I think it’ll be a fun change of pace. Maybe that old coot realized he’s gotta make some changes to keep people coming back year after year,” Purah offered with a shrug.

“That doesn’t sound like my father,” Zelda said, turning back to the view of the castle as the colorful banners and bunting that decorated the ruins joined the picture.

They always dressed the place up nice. She had to admit that. Nevermind that it should have remained in the hands of the historical society to be studied, and not made a spectacle of. But Zelda couldn’t really blame her father, or any of the others who made this faire possible every year. She supposed that was a good enough use of the ruins anyway--celebrating the past, when they were once grand and glorious and not crumbling away brick by brick, year by year.

“I guess he knew this kid’s dad?” Purah continued on. “That probably has something to do with it. He apparently was a knight way back. Maybe you’d remember him?”

“We’ve had so many knights, or at least so many strangers I’ve found passed out on my living room couch one morning and had dad explain to me that they were working for him now,” Zelda told her. “I doubt I’d remember which one of those he was.”

“You should write a book about it. Or get therapy. One or the other,” Purah offered.

“Believe me, I’ve thought about both.”

“There she is. I’ve been missing old sassy Princess Zelda,” Purah said with a grin.

Zelda didn’t bother to stifle the groan that followed. “Please don’t start with the princess stuff. I’m not ready for it.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Purah told her as she pointed to the road, and the fact that they were about to turn into the staff parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

“Shit.”

Zelda was really hoping for at least a day or two of some sort of reprieve. Some time to rot in her childhood bedroom. Well, that was still full of princess-themed decorations and accessories as well, so perhaps it wouldn’t have helped. Maybe she should have just stayed in Hateno--found a summer sublease or something, gotten a shitty summer job that didn’t involve wearing a tiara every day.

But Purah was right. It was too late. She was already here.

“Time to put on your crown, princess,” Purah said with far too much excitement as she turned off into the gravel parking lot at the back of the ruined castle.

---

“Oh good, you’re here.”

These were the first words the man known as “King” Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule had to say to his daughter. His daughter, who had just faced the biggest disappointment in her twenty-one years of life. His one and only daughter, who had come home in hopes of finding some comfort.

“You were going to pick me up,” Zelda reminded him.

“Sorry, princess. Things are very busy here,” Rhoam said as he gestured to the dusty tournament grounds. “I don’t know if Purah told you, but your old man had the bright idea to change the Champions’ Tournament around, so we’ve been stuck in rehearsal for the last week. But things are looking better. Even better now that you’re here to learn your part.”

“Don’t tell me you changed that too?” Zelda wondered.

She’d been doing the same bit since she was a teenager. She could probably recite it verbatim right there and now. In fact, she thought about texting her roommate back at Hateno University to ask if she did the entire scene in her sleep. There was a decent chance she did.

“Just a little,” Rhoam assured her with a wave of his massive hands. Zelda wasn’t sure how she turned out as small as she was, with this giant of a man being her father. “You still do the whole giving them the blessing thing, presenting them with their cloth. We made Link’s a tunic, so I don’t know how we’re gonna have him put it on without there being a big awkward pause for him to do so, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Who is Link?” Zelda asked, though she could already guess it was the new knight, she still wanted her father’s version of the answer.

“Oh right, you haven’t met Link. Well, I don’t know if you remember, but you did when you were little. His dad was one of our knights back in--”

“Father, there were so many of them. I can guarantee you that I don’t remember,” Zelda cut him off, lest he go on an entire journey through the last twenty years of the faire’s history.

“Eh, you were little,” Rhoam offered as an excuse. He scanned the tournament grounds over Zelda’s head, looking for something. “As was he. But he remembers you. Where is that boy anyway? Daruk! Where is Link? We’re starting up again in a minute!”

The massive boulder of a Goron on the field shrugged his answer and kept hammering at an actual boulder, no doubt practicing the same old trick he always did, where he’d break the rock to the raucous cheers of the crowd.

“He’ll turn up,” Rhoam said, turning back to his daughter. “He’s a good lad. Very responsible, at least when he isn’t wandering off to Hylia knows where.”

Zelda found herself scanning the grounds for anyone unfamiliar, but she knew most of the faces scurrying around the arena. Mipha was over watering the horses. Revali was very loudly explaining how great he was to some poor stagehand who also looked vaguely familiar. Urbosa was absent at the moment, and honestly had been the first person Zelda looked for. Purah had joined her sister, the slightly more serious Impa, who acted as the stage manager for most of the faire’s various performances.

“I’m sure he’s great,” Zelda offered. “I was hoping to talk to you before we went straight into the faire, though.”

“About the internship?” Rhoam questioned.

“I don’t know, dad. Maybe you could tell me that it’s going to be fine? That I’ll have another chance in the fall? That just doing my best is good enough?” Zelda asked of him, finding her hands balling into fists she went on.

Truth be told, he’d only offered her his disappointment so far. Just general displeasure and a plane ticket home.

His exact words on that fateful phone call had been, “Well, at least I can have you work the faire again.”

“I…I thought for sure you were getting it,” Rhoam offered. “Your mother was in the same program. Did you tell them that?”

“I’m not her!” Zelda nearly shouted, only holding back due to the openness of the royal box on the grandstand where they stood and the fact that there were at least a dozen people and five horses on the grounds. Zelda swallowed the last word like a bitter pill. This was the same battle she’d been fighting since she was six years old. Since her mother died. “Even if I was, I doubt that would change anything. I didn’t make it. I did everything I could and it wasn’t enough.”

“Well, you’ll just have to apply again in the fall,” Rhoam said, sticking to his guns. “I know you have it in you, princess. I was hoping you wouldn’t have to miss a regular semester for it, but hey, shit happens.”

“Shit does indeed happen,” Zelda told him, knuckles so tight now they were going numb. “I don’t know why I bothered asking what you thought. You’ve already made yourself clear.”

“I’m just worried about your career options, not to mention medical school,” Rhoam told her. “Money doesn’t grow on trees, Zelda. You need to be good scholarship material.”

“Money grows on trees when it’s for the--”

“--Now don’t start with that.”

A shout from the field stopped them from fully getting into it, thankfully.

“Hey little guy! The King wants you!” Daruk yelled at someone.

Zelda turned to find that who she presumed to be this Link character, was indeed a little guy. A Hylian like her, as small as her, maybe even a bit shorter, waved back at Daruk and started jogging up the grandstand stairs. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a wolf tail, and his mud-stained blue t-shirt and ripped jeans spoke of a morning spent practicing. He looked the part of a knight, and certainly of someone who worked at a renaissance faire, but in a very much bite-sized package.

“That’s Link,” Rhoam offered instead of an apology.

“He’s…short,” Zelda noted.

“He makes up for it,” Rhoam assured her. “Link, over here!”

Upon closer inspection, once he reached them, Zelda confirmed that Link was indeed a few inches shorter than her. Not absolutely miniscule, but still not exactly the picture of a tall, handsome knight. He had a certain curiosity sparkling in his blue eyes, and overall wasn’t bad to look at. Just…short.

And, just as Purah had warned her, he greeted them with only a wave.

“Link, this is Zelda. You probably don’t recognize her. You had to be, oh, maybe five? Six? I don’t know. It was a long ass time ago,” Rhoam said as his introduction. “But you said you remembered her.”

Zelda didn’t remember him. Her summers were so full of people. Long time employees acting as surrogate parents, guests fawning over the cute little princess, random vendors giving her ice cream and lemonade just to try to get her to smile again.

The tiniest of smiles lifted the corner of Link’s lips before he seemed to suppress it. His face turned to a stony neutral expression again before he turned to Rhoam and nodded.

“You’ll have to forgive the lad, Zelda. He isn’t much of a talker. But we’re playing that up in the show. He’s going to be the Silent Knight. Good stage name, right?” Rhoam went on.

“Fantastic,” Zelda responded, with purposeful flatness that she hoped her father understood to be a complete lack of enthusiasm for this entire thing.

And for the fact that he thought it was a good idea to have Purah bring her straight to a fucking rehearsal.

“Well, since you’re both here, and I see Urbosa over there, I think we have everyone we need to start again,” Rhoam said as he looked over the tournament grounds again before leaning over the railing to shout, his deep voice echoing over the dusty summer afternoon. “Impa! Get me a script for Zelda. Also say hi to her. And everybody else, places for the Champion’s Blessing scene! We’re doing this again from the top.”

And there it was again. The faire once again won out over her and her needs. Zelda knew it would happen. It did every summer. But still, it would be nice to hear from someone besides Purah that the world wasn’t ending.

It still felt like it was.

Rhoam walked off without another word to start doing what he did best, both directing and making himself the star of the show. Link, at least, offered her a wave goodbye as he turned to head toward the stairs again.

“Hey you! Catch!” came a call from below Zelda.

Which was followed by the fluttering of paper, as a script-shaped missile began flying from Impa’s hand straight toward Zelda’s head.

Only for a hand to reach out and catch it before it could make impact, reacting much faster than Zelda could ever hope to.

Link had turned back around in time to catch the rolled up script, and was presenting it to Zelda as if it were some sort of sacred artifact. He even had his head bowed a little.

As weird as that was, Zelda was grateful not to be smacked in the face with her father’s terrible writing, at least in the literal sense. No one could save her from the figurative smack now.

“Thank you,” she offered. “Oh…wait, um. Hold on, I think I remember.”

She signed for thank you, as no one had taken the time to explain to her why Link didn’t talk. She was left to assume. So she assumed that maybe he was hard of hearing? It was a decent enough guess.

But wait, her father had spoken to him. Link had responded to that. Was he reading lips or did he hear him? Oh well. Either way, she’d already made the sign. No taking it back now.

He lifted his head and smiled his little almost-smile again, but did not sign back. Instead, he offered the script more insistently.

“Right,” Zelda said, trying to summon all of her years of practicing her princessy grace to not inject any further awkwardness into the act of taking the script from his hand.

“Thanks for not letting me bean her, Link,” Impa said as she came up the rest of the stairs to meet them. “Rhoam would have had a fit if I gave her a black eye, even if it was with his shitty writing.”

Link nodded to that and then promptly jogged down the grandstand again. He was rather fast for as short as he was, Zelda had to admit.

“I promise he’s cool,” Impa offered as she followed Zelda’s eyes to him. “Well, as cool as someone who doesn’t talk can be. Anyway, how are you?”

“I could be better,” Zelda admitted.

Purah’s older sister was far more emotionally in tune than her, and had known Zelda longer. There was no point in attempting to hide anything from her. She’d been working as the faire’s stage manager since she was still in high school, after all. And now she was what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?

Zelda could hardly believe her own age, let alone Impa’s. She still felt like the same little girl she so often saw herself as in her dreams, riding on Urbosa’s hip and dripping her ice cream all over the colorful silk of the Gerudo woman’s belly dancer costume.

“Purah told me all about it. I’m sorry things worked out like that, but I’m glad you’re here. Me and the rest of the crew will make sure you still have an amazing summer, even if it’s not the one you wanted to have,” Impa assured her, reaching out to pull her into a quick hug.

“Thanks, Impa.”

At least that much she knew would be true. Her father couldn’t be counted on for much, but Zelda hadn’t given her faire family enough credit. They would definitely make this fun, even on the hottest, most crowded, and most miserable of days. They always did.

Still, it wasn’t what she wanted. Or what her father wanted for her. And, in a rare moment of honesty with herself, Zelda thought for just that moment, that perhaps it was getting harder and harder to reconcile those two things.

“People! I said places! Where is everyone?” Rhoam shouted from the field, as if on cue.

---

And so Zelda found herself in her usual spot, on the circle of stone tiles that had been arranged into a mosaic portraying the Triforce and the old royal seal of Hyrule’s ancient monarchy within it. Her father was nothing if not a stickler for having at least some historical accuracy at the faire, and had gone to great lengths to research and restore what he could of the original grounds. This mosaic and its imagery were among those projects.

Zelda blamed that for her true passion. As great as studying for medical school was, and wanting to follow in her mother’s footsteps as a research doctor, her medical textbooks didn’t quite hold her attention like archeology could. The history, the artifacts, the ruins like those she’d grown up around--Hyrule was full of these little windows into the past, just waiting to reveal answers to questions long forgotten. It was fascinating.

Fascinating enough that she’d managed to make it her minor, even though very few classes overlapped nicely with her pre-med track.

Fascinating enough that, at times, she could almost forgive her father for getting lost in the fantasy version of it.

So she did her best to put on her most regal Princess Zelda face as she read from the script, adding a new blessing for Link to his new storyline.

“Hero of Hyrule, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness. You have shown unflinching bravery and skill in the face of darkness and adversity, and have proven yourself worthy of the blessing of the Goddess Hylia. Whether skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight--Dad, really? This is so verbose.”

“We’re well past the review or rewrite stage on this, princess. The faire opens this weekend,” Rhoam shouted down from the royal box, where he’d taken up residence again once the scene started.

Zelda rolled her eyes and continued on, “The sacred blade is forever bound to the soul of the Hero. We pray for your protection…and we hope that--that you two will grow stronger together, as one.” She had to look up again from that one, addressing her father in confusion, “Wait, him and the sword or…?”

“Pretty sure it’s the sword?” Daruk answered, scratching his head. “Honestly I was lost when Impa was reading this part for you too, kiddo. You reading it doesn't make it make any more sense to me.”

“Yes, it’s the sword! This is all based on the legends of the Hero and the Master Sword. Come on people, you’re supposed to be acting out history. You should know it!” Rhoam complained from above.

“Ancient legends aren’t exactly historical, Rhoam,” Urbosa reminded him, then nodded toward Zelda. “Continue on anyway. We need to get you some sunscreen after this, little bird. The heat is vicious today, even for me.”

Of course she was worried about sunscreen. The Gerudo woman had been the closest thing Zelda had to a mother after her own mother died, but that didn’t mean she had to act like it.

Though yes, the summer sun was quite hot already. It made her dread sweating in the heavy fabric of her usual princess costume all the more, but thankfully, for today, everyone was still in casual clothes.

“Right,” Zelda said, taking a deep breath and reaching out again to hover her hand over Link’s shoulder.

The Silent Knight, for his part, was dutifully bowed and on one knee before her, and hadn’t so much as flinched for all of the disruptions. He was so still that not even a single new wrinkle had been added to his dirty shirt this entire time. Was he wearing cowboy boots under those jeans? Of course he was. Of course…

Zelda shifted her focus back the script in her hand and continued on with the increasingly flowery speech, but was finding herself losing steam over the words. Honestly, she just wanted to go home. She wanted a shower. She wanted to order a pizza from her favorite place in town, eat too much of it to the point of mild regret, and then pass out. She’d been up since six in the morning to make that flight. All for her father to just throw her back into this world without so much as a hug?

Really, why did she bother to come back here?

“Gee, this is uplifting,” she heard Daruk whisper under his breath as she droned on.

“Wasn’t this your idea?” Revali snapped back at him with far less subtlety, but still quiet enough not to stop the scene again. His deep blue Rito feathers spread wide from his wings as he went on, “You’re the one who told Rhoam to add all this pomp and ceremony and nonsense to this scene! And if you ask me, the whole thing does seem to be overkill. Really, who in our audience is going to care all that much about this boy?”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Urbosa quietly scolded him as she pushed her long red ponytail off of her shoulder. “That boy has been getting more attention from her father than she ever does. Well, at least she’ll find out soon enough.”

Great. Another thing to look forward to dealing with this summer. And for the other knights to be worried about her for it. Zelda really wanted that shower and pizza more than anything else right now.

But when the words on the page ran out, and her name no longer appeared on the script, Zelda couldn’t help but look down at him. At this Link.

He was just a kid. Well, not really. He had to be at least as old as her, if she was supposed to remember him that is. But he was scrawny and small. Honestly barely believable for winning a tournament over the likes of the other Champions. Sure, the audience loves an underdog, she could almost hear her father saying as much now--but really, this kid?

Zelda, of course, knew the legends her father was referencing in that lengthy speech of hers. They were where her name came from, after all. They were her favorite bedtime stories, back when she was young. Back when things were still okay, before her mother died.

But they were just stories. Stories that were mostly the same, but slightly different in each iteration. There was always a Hero, some bright young man with unmatched courage. He always found or was given some sort of magical sword. It talked to him in some of the stories, shot magical beams of light in others, or sometimes just emitted a soft glow in the presence of evil. And he always saved a princess named Zelda from some evil monster or corrupt king. Every time.

Only Zelda was pretty sure she didn’t want or need saving. Much less from some odd young man who didn’t even have the courage to say hello to her.

Some hero he made.

---

The following day--exactly one late night hot shower and an amount of pizza that Zelda wasn’t proud of later--the temperature was even hotter and the sun somehow even brighter. Her father, in all his kingly compassion and good judgment, had decided that this was the perfect day to impose a full dress rehearsal and costume review on the entire staff.

“No different from last year,” Purah informed her as she inspected her from the blessed air conditioning of the ladies’ dressing rooms. “You haven’t changed a bit, and the dress is still in good shape. Thanks for making my job easy.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Zelda noted as she adjusted the flowing bell sleeves of her princess dress, trying to think of any other reason to delay stepping out into the heat in this ridiculous thing.

But it was no use. She’d be wearing this dress all summer, regardless of the temperature. Purah had made her another outfit a few years back with some leggings instead of the heavy skirts. It was a little better, but she could only get away with that one on days where her father was too distracted to disapprove. He didn’t think it was “princessy” enough, and wouldn’t take her insisting that the leggings were historically accurate fashion for Hylian nobility of the time period for an answer.

“I still have the pants version, you know. I don’t see why daddy dearest doesn’t let you at least do walkarounds in that,” Purah noted with a little frown as she looked Zelda up and down one last time.

She herself was in her full Sheikah getup, honoring her people’s heritage with a sort of pale gray robe that covered most of the red leggings and bodysuit she wore underneath. Unlike her older sister, she didn’t opt for the Sheikah eye symbol painted on her face, but she also had less of a chance of being seen “on stage”.

Honestly, it was all so ridiculous. Her father treated the entire faire as a theater production, or a theme park that warranted a much more expensive ticket price than they could ever hope to ask for. Referring to employee only areas as backstage, calling said employees cast or actors, forcing even the third party vendors to dress up in period clothes--it was all just overkill for what amounted to a pretty average regional renaissance festival.

But there was no telling that to the King.

“Remind me in a few weeks and I’ll see if I can get away with it,” Zelda said. She peered in the mirror of a nearby vanity and adjusted her tiara a bit. “For now, I think I’m stuck in this thing.”

“Sure thing,” Purah nodded, but then moved to step in front of her before she could leave. “Check it there a second. I’m putting us on TikTok this year, and I want to show the people your fit.”

“Purah, I understood about half of the words that left your mouth just now,” Zelda informed her.

Purah, however, was too busy pulling out her phone and grinning at the screen. “Look princessy.”

“That’s been my job since I was six years old.”

“Okay good, so do it.”

Zelda let out a brief sigh, but did her best to pose for whatever Purah was asking of her.

“Now turn or spin or something,” Purah said. “And don’t tell me you don’t know what TikTok is. You’re my age.”

“I’m usually too busy studying to mess around with social media,” Zelda said, repeating an excuse she told her fellow students so often that it was nearly as ingrained into her head as her speech for the Champions’ Tournament.

“That’s a lie. I follow you on Insta, you know. You take really pretty pictures. Boring, but pretty. Now spin,” Purah demanded.

Zelda knew she wasn’t getting out of here without a spin, so she spun. The action made her smile, remembering how she’d spin around with all the little girls who would come to the faire in their princess dresses. They were so excited to see her year after year, even after they grew out of those little dress-up princess costumes themselves.

Still, Zelda could always make guests like them smile. And maybe that was worth sweating in royal blue velvet all day.

“I still have the faire’s Instagram account,” Zelda realized as she finished her spin. “I should probably start posting on it.”

“I’m surprised you dad didn’t ask you to,” Purah noted, tapping on her phone with a little grin that told Zelda she must be satisfied with the footage.

“He still thinks the key to success is advertising in the newspapers, so I don’t think he knows enough to ask. Better it stays that way,” Zelda concluded. “Now, do I have permission to leave?”

Purah was still too busy smirking at her phone. “I’m gonna add so many sparkles to you.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Zelda responded and walked around Purah with no further resistance.

She gathered her own phone from her locker on the way out. Of course, there were no phones allowed on stage when there were guests at the faire, but the rule would not be enforced for the next few dress rehearsal days. It would be a great time for getting enough shots to fill up all the social media accounts for the rest of the summer. That meant a lot of pictures to be taken on top of all of the other wrangling her father expected her to do. But luckily for her, photography was Zelda’s second passion after archeology.

And doubly-lucky, her dress had pockets.

She loved a dress with pockets.

“I’ll head for Goron City first,” she announced to herself as she exited the dressing rooms. “Daruk will no doubt need some help getting his booth in order.”

She had a bad habit of talking to herself. She liked talking. It helped her organize her thoughts. And it wasn’t problematic if no one was around to hear her.

It was only when she’d rambled her way through the end of that second sentence that she noticed her footsteps were echoing. But that wasn’t possible? The crunch of the gravel was definitely bouncing off something. But there were only cloth tents, the gravel pathway, and the trailer that made up the dressing room behind her. Nothing to echo off of, unless…

Zelda stopped and turned, only to find that Link had stopped with her, and remained about five steps back from her.

He was decked out in his Champion’s garb. Her father had decided to scrap the gifting of the cloth to the Champions from the main show and just have them wear the tokens of Princess Zelda’s favor with their regular Champion costumes. Pretty much the entirety of Link’s costume was that token--a tunic of a slightly brighter shade of her royal blue, embroidered in white with his symbol, which was that of the legendary sword.

All very extra, as Purah might say.

The causal knightley look was completed with various belts and pouches. Of course, attached to one that was slung from shoulder to waist on him was a massive purple and gold scabbard, in which his prop sword sat--peace-knotted of course.

It would only come out of that scabbard for the tournament, of course. Zelda had yet to see what he could do with, as the previous afternoon’s rehearsal focused entirely on the opening ceremonies and not on any of the actual stage combat, but apparently even Urbosa was impressed with him, so he had to be decent.

“Hello Link,” she said as she looked him over. “Your costume fits you well. I see Purah’s been hard at work.”

He nodded to this, blue eyes earnest and expression neutral. Not even offering a hint of his opinion on the matter.

Well, that was going to take some getting used to. Especially if he kept just…staring at her like that.

“I suppose I’ll see you at show rehearsal in a bit. I’m going to check on some things and take some pictures for the faire’s Instagram,” Zelda explained, pulling her phone out of her pocket to wiggle it in evidence and waiting for him to give her some sort of sign that she could politely exit this one-sided conversation.

Link nodded again.

The awkwardness of his silence might kill her, if the summer heat and her own anxieties didn’t beat him to it.

Zelda decided that was enough and she could leave, only to hear the dual crunching of gravel yet again.

She stopped.

Link stopped with her.

“Are you…following me?” she asked, barely turning her head enough to be able to see him from the corner of her eye.

Link’s expression changed, only for the briefest of moments again. A look of concern passed his face for half a second, bending his eyebrows slightly downward and scrunching his nose, but it all smoothed back to neutral again.

He nodded.

Zelda turned to face him, not bothering to conceal her annoyance this time. “Let me guess, my father asked you to keep an eye on me? To make sure that I was doing what he asked?”

Link seemed to think about this one for a moment before he nodded again.

Zelda sighed. She wasn’t getting paid enough for this. Actually she wasn’t really getting paid at all. Her father had decided that instead of giving her wages for her work at the faire, that he’d put them into a bank account he would use to help with her tuition. And while she appreciated that, and had been able to save herself from taking much in the way of student loans for it, it wasn’t all that satisfying to have nothing in her own bank account to show for all this work.

She found herself pinching the bridge of her nose. This wouldn’t be the first time her father had assigned one of his employees to keep tabs on her. That had actually been Impa’s first job, but she’d been reassigned to stage management after Zelda became too good at evading her.

But Link. Link didn’t talk. Link couldn’t be distracted with a conversation. Link was new to the faire and didn’t have a friend she could foist him off on.

She was quite possibly stuck with him for at least the rest of rehearsal week.

“Well, come on then,” Zelda said, turning back to head for Daruk’s blacksmith shop. It was set up on the northeastern side of the grounds.

She didn’t look back.

Link, as he would continue to do without fail for the rest of the day, followed without complaint.

#zelda #breath of the wild #zelink #fanfic #the world will only darken without candlelight #i will come to regret how long that title is for sure #are we going to retell every single memory and then have link speedrun botw at the end?#you betcha

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hyylia · 10 months

Text

COOKING LESSONS ──

post-botw, pre-totk | rated G characters: princess zelda, link, purah, other minor totk characters summary: for their anniversary, zelda faces the forbidden head-on - a loose backstory for the “gourmets go missing” totk sidequest word count: 3397 warnings: minor totk spoilers!

a/n: for zelink week 2023 - @zelinkcommunity big thanks to @aurathian for betareading this fic! one of her comments was “local princess learns not to cook monster parts” and i think that about sums it up.

read it below the cut or on ao3 → here

The end of the Calamity had removed the ghostly shackles from Zelda’s wrists. Her fate had been met, her mind and body tested, and after over a hundred years, the kingdom could finally rest. There were no prayers to be had or religious studies to attend to in the hopes that she could harness her power. She already had. The Princess was free to do anything she pleased–explore Hyrule without the harrowing duty looming over her shoulders, assist Purah and Robbie with their advanced research, lounge about with Link. She could do anything–except for one tiny, minor thing.

Cooking was strictly forbidden.

Link had never outwardly said anything and, honestly, she should have expected as much. Even before Calamity Ganon had shaken Hyrule, Link was notorious for eating even the most dubious of substances. Hand him an entire Goron rock roast, and he would swallow it whole without a word. Some mysterious meat–probably bokoblin or moblin in origin–and he would lick the plate clean. So, it should have been no surprise to her that he would swallow her experimental desserts down without a single complaint.

Instead, Purah had been the first to comment on her poor cooking abilities. The Princess had invited her to their house–a business meeting of sorts, to discuss what to do with the various guardian parts strewn across Hyrule–and out of the kindness of her golden heart, she’d decided to cook dinner for them. Purah had been deep in conversation with Link while Zelda had her way with the meal: keese wings, simmered in leafy greens and delectable Hylian mushrooms. It was admittedly not her best work, and it had turned a mysterious shade of green as soon as she’d added the twitching monster parts to the pot. She’d tried her best to make it look appetizing for Purah when she’d plated it, sprinkling freshly chopped Hylian herb on top. It hadn’t exactly worked.

“Princess,” Purah had said instead, staring blankly at the dubious food sitting before her on the table. “What. Is. That.”

“...Dinner?” She’d feigned a casual smile, as if it might lessen the situation and alleviate the concern plastered on the other girl’s face. Inside, she knew she had messed up.

“No,” Purah had pressed, poking a charred, brittle wing with her fork. “What is that?”

“Keese.”

“Keese?” She hadn’t missed the way Purah’s face morphed from concern to utter disgust, letting go of her fork with a loud clink as it’d clattered against the plate below.

“A keese wing, yes. Link has so many from his adventures–I thought I would cook a few for us.”

At that, Purah’s eyes had shifted pointedly to Link, who’d merely smiled in return. He’d sheepishly rubbed the back of his head with a hand, intentionally moving his gaze away from Purah and to the floor. Zelda’s mouth had dropped open.

“Princess… How often does Link let you cook?”

Zelda had never really thought about that before. He’d always jumped at the opportunity to cook for her–whether it was breakfast or lunch or dinner–and she’d only ever assumed it was because he enjoyed it. When he was in the kitchen, humming a tune over the cooking pot, he’d only ever looked happy. It had never appeared to be a chore–or a means to keep her out of the kitchen. His insistence on cooking meals was why she’d had to resort to surprising him with dessert, a course he’d only ever looked grateful for.

“You hate it,” she’d said in defeat, her shoulders sagging.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Princess, but Link should never let you cook again. This meal is downright criminal.”

Her own eyes had turned to Link, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. He’d only shaken Purah’s words off with a smile, hands signing, It’s not that bad.

That was code for: it was very, very bad. Zelda had sighed miserably, sinking down into her chair, Purah’s laughter echoing through the house.

She hadn’t cooked again. No burnt (yet, mysteriously soggy) apples, coated in browned butter. No half-baked fruitcake, falling apart and topped with the fruit she’d somehow mutilated. No cooking–whatsoever.

That is, until recently. With the one-year anniversary of their relationship approaching, Zelda wanted to do something special for Link. She’d thought about it for some time, mulling over the options in her head before she’d finally decided on what she would do.

She would cook.

For nearly a year, Link had been cooking for her, and it was only fair that she would, at some point, try to return the favor. Not to mention, she’d atone for her past crimes and give him a gift he’d undoubtedly enjoy: food. Good food. There was nothing more fitting for her swordsman.

Within a few days of her decision, she’d sent a formal request to Gotter, the renowned chef from Riverside Stable, requesting his assistance for secret, individual cooking lessons. Link had engaged in conversation with the chef a number of times on their travels, so she’d trusted his expertise on the art of cooking more than anyone else. She’d been filled with glee at his near-immediate response a few days later: a letter with a time, date, and location at the outskirts of Hateno Village.

He’d agreed. She had been thankful for that, her eyes skimming over the rest of the letter he’d written; something about being optimistic and grateful for the opportunity to teach the Princess of Hyrule. He’d appeared that way until midway through her very first lesson, when he’d realized just how bad she was.

“No, no, no!” He’d been yelling almost immediately, his face red and jaw slack with disbelief–something about her poor knife skills, the way she’d mangled (rather than neatly trimmed) the slab of venison he’d kindly handed her, nearly cutting herself a dozen times in the process. “Princess, must we go over the basics?!”

She’d only smiled weakly and nodded her head, and she’d watched all of the hope and excitement leave his eyes. That had been the gist of their early lessons: how to use a knife correctly, how to measure ingredients and perfectly season a cooking pot. All things that were easy enough to do, because they didn’t actually require cooking. It was the cooking where she’d struggled, where his patience had seemingly been tested the most.

“Princess,” Gotter had interjected during one lesson, rousing her from her thoughts. “You’re supposed to be searing the fish, not burning it.”

“Princess,” he’d weakly asked during another, staring down at his plate in disbelief, “why is the crab still moving?”

“Princess.” He’d utterly given up at one point, lounging in his tent and reading the book in his hands. “I can smell the charcoal you’re cooking from here.”

During one of their last lessons, he’d jumped to put out the giant grease fire she’d accidentally created, chastising her all the while on the importance of not using water to do so. After that, he’d kindly requested reinforcements from the other notable chefs around Hyrule. He’d told her that, maybe together, they would be able to teach her something.

Now, she stood hovering over the cooking pot, three of Hyrule’s finest chefs surrounding her. All of them wore the same expression on their face: disapproval, lips worn thin and eyes hollow with dissatisfaction at what she’d somehow conjured up in her pot.

“Gotter,” one of them, Agus, said to the man. “You only gave her apples and butter, correct?”

The head chef nodded solemnly.

“So… where did she find the monster parts?” Moza quipped, her gaze moving between the other two chefs and the quivering pile of bokoblin guts in the pot.

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

Zelda wasn’t exactly sure either. All eyes turned to her, awaiting an explanation that she could simply not provide. She merely shrugged, the chefs all collectively shaking their heads.

“We need a moment alone, Your Highness,” Gotter muttered beneath his breath, looking as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. They left her, walking several paces away and whispering to each other all the while. Zelda knew it was over from the way they all glanced at her from the corner of their eyes, their whispers intensifying with every look.

She would never learn. Instead, Link would be doomed to cook for her for all of his life, and she’d be forced to find another gift to surprise him with. Only, that wouldn’t do, because their anniversary was today. It was too late to commission anything for him, or to even make something for him herself. She’d been too caught up in her lessons to consider a back-up plan, and at this point, she had no choice but to make dinner and pray to Hylia that it was edible. Certainly it was the thought that would count…?

“Princess,” Gotter said, returning a few moments later. “We’ve been at this for weeks, and there’s been little progress. Perhaps we should reconvene and continue lessons in a few months.”

Zelda had expected as much. She bit her lip, nodding soberly. “Of course. Thank you all for your help.”

She watched them pack up and leave in a hurry, as if they were worried that she might try to argue. She wouldn’t. If Zelda had learned anything, it was that cooking wasn’t her forte–no matter the number of lessons Gotter had freely given her. She sighed, disappointed, and wiped her hands clean on her pants before waving them goodbye.

It was only a few minutes later that she approached the entrance to Hateno Village, her head down and shoulders slouched. How was it that she could do anything, yet she couldn’t cook even the simplest of meals? She could piece together intricate guardian parts, fuse them together with one of Robbie’s tools, and yet melting butter was where she drew the line? She sighed miserably. Her knight approached her side only moments later, face lined with worry.

Where have you been? His hands were a flurry of movement. I thought you said you were helping Cece, but I didn’t see you with her.

“I was helping Cece,” she lied.

From the woods? She nodded. He gave her a skeptical look. What would Cece need in the woods?

“Mushrooms. She told me she plans to reference them in her next design.”

Link’s eyebrows raised curiously, glancing at her obviously mushroom-less arms, yet he said nothing more about it. It was believable enough–that Cece would do something as outrageous as use mushrooms in one of her gaudy fashion designs. Instead, he quietly took her hand, leading her in the direction of their house.

I missed you today, he signed with one hand. I’ve been worried.

She squeezed his hand. “I’m all right.”

I have a surprise for you at home.

Her face lit up. In all of her scheming and secret lessons, she’d forgotten that he might have gotten her something special as well. She wondered, as she crossed the bridge to their home, what kind of surprise it might be. A painting, maybe, or a new quill and ink set for her journal.

Instead, as Link pushed the door open, she was met with a new writing desk, larger and sturdier than the one she kept upstairs. She turned to Link in surprise, utterly delighted. His lips spread into a soft smile.

I built it myself, he signed. For you.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, walking inside to touch the dark-stained wood. “How did you build it?”

I’ve picked up a few things over the years. She smiled at that. Now you can work downstairs if you’d like. And it’s larger, so it can hold more Zonai materials on top.

Zelda took it in. He’d already neatly arranged a stack of books on top–a stack she’d been keeping on the floor after running out of space. A small flower vase sat on top, too, with a Silent Princess he must have picked for her at some point sticking out of it. She felt her cheeks warm. “Thank you, Link.”

Of course. I hope you like it.

It was her turn to reveal her gift to him now, a thought that made her stomach suddenly churn with anxiety. She sobered, hesitating before spitting out, “ I… I have something for you as well.”

He tilted his head curiously. You didn’t have to do anything for me.

“I know, but I wanted to.”

You didn’t have to.

She shook her head. “Admittedly,” she said, “you may not like it. Though I do hope that you will. It’ll take some time, though, and you’ll have to stay here. Close your eyes until I tell you to open them.”

His curiosity was piqued. She could tell because he straightened up, suddenly alert. OK.

“I’ll tell you when.”

With that, he closed his eyes obediently, and Zelda was left to gather whatever she could fit inside the basket they used for transporting ingredients. Thankfully, she’d kept the kitchen stocked up all week, though she wasn’t sure how much help it would be. She’d hoped that, by this point, Gotter would have helped her pick a delicious recipe, practiced to perfection from her numerous lessons. Instead, as she looked over the various utensils and ingredients, she felt utterly clueless.

One step at a time, she quietly reminded herself. That had been Agus’s wise advice to her. Don’t rush cooking. Find appreciation for the art, he’d said.

Link had brought in a delicious-looking hunk of beef at some point during the day. She figured that she could probably use that for something–tossing it into the basket–but what else? Her gaze glanced over the array of options before settling on the small bag of Hylian rice she’d bought from Pruce two days ago. Rice was a simple and easy meal, right? She’d watched Gotter cook rice to fluffy perfection several times, though it had only ever turned hard and crispy whenever she’d tried. She’d give it one last attempt.

Keep it simple, she reminded herself. Rice and meat couldn’t go wrong together. It may not have been gourmet, but if she focused hard enough and took her time, maybe it would be edible enough for Link to be amazed at what little improvement she’d made for him. Zelda grabbed a chunk of rock salt for seasoning, cooking oil for the beef, a jar of broth for the rice, and two bowls. With that, she dashed out of the house with the basket and to their cooking pot outside.

She could do this. She knew how to light the fire beneath the pot, how to heat up just a little bit of the oil for the perfect sear, and she did it with little thought. Those had been the easy lessons. With the pot thoroughly heated, Zelda took a deep breath and laid the meat inside. It sizzled furiously–a sign that maybe she’d waited too long for the pot to heat–and her heart leapt in her throat. No, she told herself. For Link, she would try her best. After only a few minutes, she flipped the meat. Her mouth dropped open.

A perfect sear. She almost couldn’t believe her eyes. How had she done that after weeks of failure? She fought down the urge to stand up and cheer, instead staring intently at the meat in the pot. She flipped it again.

A perfect sear on that side, too. She begged her beating heart to calm as she turned the meat to sear the sides. If the rice failed miserably, maybe she would at least have perfectly cooked beef to present to him. Men liked eating meat, didn’t they? Thank Hylia for that.

She removed the beef from the pot to rest and scraped what little burnt bits remained in the pot with her utensil, fighting the urge to smile wide. Next would be the rice–a feat she was sure would ruin any of the excitement she was feeling at the moment. She added the broth to the pot, boiling in only a few minutes, then the rice. For good measure, she stirred nonstop, fearing that the moment she did, it’d become a burnt mess, clinging to the bottom of the pot.

Only, she saw it soak up the moisture gradually, thickening beneath her utensil. Was she dreaming? Had she entered the afterlife unknowingly–maybe the result of that grease fire? Zelda stared in awe, eyes wide with disbelief. She hurried to prepare their bowls, scooping some of the rice into both of them before slicing the beef. She laid it on top, added just a sprinkle of the rock salt, and...

It looked… appetizing. That had never happened before. She wasn’t sure how she had managed to make something like that, wondering if maybe Hylia had decided to give her good fortune today. She only prayed that it tasted as good as it looked.

After putting the fire out and tossing her dirty utensils into the basket, she rushed back inside, holding both of the bowls in her hands. She saw Link visibly perk up when she entered, like a dog drooling at the scent of the food wafting after her. Link–standing in the same spot, his eyes still pressed firmly shut, because she’d forgotten to tell him to open them before she’d left. She sat the bowls down at their table, cheeks flushed, before she murmured, “Open your eyes.”

He opened them, glancing at her for only a second before he stared down at the bowls she beckoned him towards.

Did you make this? he asked incredulously. She tried not to be offended. It looks delicious.

“Try it,” she urged. He took a seat in his chair and grabbed his spoon, gaze never breaking from the meat and rice bowl before him. He took a bite, and for a moment, he was frozen.

Zelda, he signed, completely deadpanned. He paused and took another bite. I think this is the best thing I’ve eaten in a while.

“Really?” She asked excitedly, leaning forward. He nodded and her face visibly brightened. “I thought about it for a while… What I wanted to get you, I mean. There are only a few things I’ve ever seen you really get excited about, and the biggest thing has been food.”

He nodded again, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth. His love for food was why he spent so much time gathering fresh ingredients on their travels; why they had met Gotter in the first place.

“I’ve been taking lessons for the past month. I know you don’t mind to cook, and you’ve never complained, but I see how tired you are sometimes. I want to help. When I’ve wandered off to help Cece or Prima or Dantz, I’ve actually been hiding in the woods with Gotter. He offered to teach me, though… Well, admittedly, I haven’t shown much progress until now.” Her cheeks warmed. “I wasn’t sure that this would work. I’m glad you like it, Link.”

He sat his spoon down, half of the bowl already devoured, and met her gaze.

Zelda, he signed. He reached for one of her hands, tracing her name on her skin with one of his fingers, Zelda. He smiled warmly, squeezing her hand before letting go. Thank you. Not only have you given me something good to eat, but a new recipe too. We’ll have to write it down on a card so we can remember.

A recipe card. Zelda beamed like the sun, clutching her hands together with excitement. Link had written dozens of recipes down over the years, kept safe in their recipe box. Now she would have her own sitting in there.

Link watched her for a moment, eyes soft, before he signed, Eat before it gets cold. It’s too good to waste.

Zelda nodded and took a seat across from him. Silently they ate their dinner, looking at each other from across the table with smiles hidden behind their bowls. Maybe, Zelda thought, cooking wasn’t some forbidden practice. Maybe it was just a skill that didn’t come naturally to her–one that required a lot of practice. Well… In that case, she decided that she would keep working at it, if only it meant sharing more moments like these with Link.

#totk #totk spoilers #zelink #zelink week 2023 #forbidden #zelink community #my writing #oh my hyylia

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justapixelthing · 1 year

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About the silly Zelink vs Malink wars

So I accidentally got involved in a shipping war on twitter earlier and got insulted and called delusional, etc. So I wanna make something clear:

I may forever be for Oot Zelink, BUT that does not mean that I hate you or wish anything bad on you for not liking what I do. Nintendo left that part vague for a reason. Yes, there are a lot of hints that make one thing likely, but to me the connection between them feels too strong to go another path and since it's not confirmed as canon, I see no reason why I couldn't go down the Zelink path. But this is my interpretation! It can be yours, but it doesn't have to be. It's a fictional story. There is absolutely *nothing* wrong with adding your own part to it in the way you want it to be. May it be Zelda, Malon, Ruto, Nabooru, Saria (? - if you can make it non-illegal) or some OC it's totally fine and valid! It's not like you're denying or rewriting world history. And even if Canon did confirm it as different, you could still make yourself an AU or whatever and it'd be valid.

Having different head canons, theories, AUs, ships, whatever is FINE. It's not just fine, it's BEAUTIFUL. It's an example of your creativity, interpreting what the source materials give you

But I think I understand now why some people are so intense about it. Let me explain it from my own perspective:

Oot was not just my first Zelda game but also one of my first video games. Princess Zelda made me realize a lot of things about myself (gender and other things). I wanted to be like her and I wanted my hero too. At the same time Link was like a childhood friend to me when I was a child myself. So I wanted to be the princess and I wanted the hero to be mine. No surpise that eventually the knight x princess trope became my favorite and with the reincarnation aspect even more. Now I have a man who treats me like and calls me his princess. He saved me from terrible points in my life. He is my hero. To me this strengthened my love for this kind of bond even more. It was personal

But I've heard from a friend that he had the same situation but with Link and Malon and that he found his Malon type of partner. So that made me realize that ships can be a deeply personal things for some, because it reflects yourself, your own wishes, your hopes. And seeing anything go against that makes you go into defensivee mode. It does for me but I try to be civil. I try to remind myself that nothing that others do can take away my own theory. And because of that, I wouldn't want to take it away from them either. It's what gives them comfort. Why take away their comfort? I don't want to do that and you shouldn't either. Let people have their things. It's possible to coexist and appreciate each others differences. I've seen it happen.

#shipping wars #shipping wars are stupid #zelink #malink #why can't we all just get along #loz oot #oot zelink

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cookie-waffle · 1 year

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here are my new Zelink totk theories with added context from minor spoilers:

- The American localization is gonna cut out/change a LOT of the more explicitly romantic subtext because american parents are pretty notorious for getting super easily offended. Directly implying that Link and Zelda share a bed is probably not seen as a big deal at all in Japan, but I can def see some of the more conservative american parents having a problem with it.

- Zelda is NOT gonna have any kind of pregnancy reveal at the end. Not just for the aforementioned reason, but also because it would heavily imply that Link is assigned male and Auonuma has actually stated in an interview that he doesn’t want to 100% confirm Link as male. (it’s why we don’t see Linkle in the mainline games)

- NPCs are gonna be referencing/gossiping/teasing Link about the relationship at some points. Link may even get dialogue options stating that he’s taken or likes someone else already when he gets flirted with.

- I do not think Nintendo is likely to blatantly just say in the game that they’re an item. They’re likely gonna rely heavily on obvious subtext, even in the Japanese vers.

- If I’m wrong about the last one…. ya know, I had this VERY low on my “likely to happen” list, but, the fact that they’re sharing a bed means that them kissing in a cutscene is not off the table.

- Link is either gonna show MUCH more emotion in this game while interacting with Zelda, or, Nintendo is gonna chicken out and have him stand around like 🧍again in every single cutscene because they don’t wanna disappoint fans who don’t ship zelink. (Usually I’d sorta understand but, they REALLY wrote themselves into a corner here. If Link isn’t at least visibly comfortable with her then that’s just shit writing)

- No, they aren’t gonna bone. Nor will there be any sort of reference to sexual contact between them. But, I also think a lot of teen and adult players might just sorta automatically assume that it happens because not only are they living together domestically, but they’re also around 23-24 yrs old now. Lot of time has passed. More than enough to, ya know…. “do stuff”

- There are likely more of Zelda’s diary entries you can find that give additional context to the relationship. Maybe she has another secret one in Hyrule castle or hidden in Hateno.

- Zelda’s room in the castle might be renovated now. And if it is, it’s very likely that it’ll be built to accommodate Link as well. There may even be some very cute easter eggs in her room like in Skyward Sword.

- Paya is gonna have some shit to say in her diary FOR SURE lmaoo. Probably something like “I’m so happy for them!” *you see what look like water droplet stains on the pages*

-The two thrones in the castle may actually have some subtle implications behind it. But I’m still not super confident that we’ll see Link become king. I mean, it’s pretty obvious that it will happen. But I’m just not used to Nintendo being so on the nose about their relationship. Them sleeping in the same bed is EXTREMELY out of left field for this franchise.

- There’s gonna be a musical reference to, or perhaps even remix, of “Romance in the Air” from Skyward Sword. And you know what? I’m gonna scream and cry and fucking explode because oh my god that is so romantic.

- No, Zelda is not gonna die. This franchise practically spawns money directly into Nintendo HQ. They are not gonna kill off the character who’s bloonline ensures more Zelda games.

#zelink #totk spoilers

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zeldaelmo · 7 months

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Haha, surprise! Cool new banner for the advent calendar! And a title, woohoo! It's WIP Wednesday time!

This is from the first chapter (because that's the only one that exists so far lol). Big thanks to the people in the Zelink Community server for helping me figure some plot problems out. As per usual, the calendar will be T-rated.

Excerpt ch. 1, One Stitch at a Time

“Thank you,” Sonia sing-sang and disappeared again, but not without a nod and an accompanying, conspiratorial wink into the direction of the young man flipping through a pattern magazine. Oh, of course, how could Zelda forget that every somewhat decent behaving and looking customer was a potential son-in-law in Sonia’s mind? That the founder of their family business had fallen in love with a seamstress in this exact spot two hundred years ago served Sonia as much as a blueprint for teasing Zelda as her shelf full of romance novels from that time. But really, who could blame Zelda with a family history like this at her hands? Of course, she was obsessed with everything from the Regency Era. Who didn't dream of a true gentleman holding the door open and anticipating her every wish? Too bad that the modern Hyrule had only idiots to offer.

Zelda rolled her eyes at herself and made her way over to the customer, rearranging bolts of fabric here and there to give him the space he might need. "Sir?"

Shockingly blue eyes looked up to her, and he flipped the magazine close with a casual flick of his wrist. "Ah, the two ladies have finished their little chat. How convenient." He wrinkled his nose that was a little too perfect for his smooth face and leaned closer. Where had she seen him before? "I didn't want to interrupt."

Zelda pushed her back straight. "We were discussing the new fabric collection. But you wouldn't have interrupted, the customer always comes first at Fine Fabrics. So how can I help you?"

"Could have fooled me…" he muttered and Zelda frowned when he put the magazine back. He had just come in! His hair was still damp from snowflakes melting!

"Anyway," he added. "I'm here for the sewing class."

Oh, great, Zelda couldn't wait to spend even more time with him. A clique of 14-year-old girls was one thing, but an annoyingly handsome guy her age, questioning her word at every occasion and probably sewing a plushie for his partner… not really the vibe she needed for her first Christmas as a single approaching on top of the worries about the store.

"Oh, really now?" It was difficult to keep the little snide out of her voice after he had falsely called her out for chatting instead of working. "Follow me, please, I'll show you everything."

#zelink #zeldaelmo writes #One stitch at a time #advent calendar #legend of zelda #wip wednesday

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spices28 · 4 months

Note

Because the author is not on tumblr and not able to advertise to this fandom as easily, I have to ask, have you perused The Summoned Queen, by taapje? Author is a returning writer after decades away from fandom, and the fic is one of my faves. Wrapping up soon, will warn that it has some angst in it, especially for ZeLink ppl, but the writing quality is insane. Moreso in that the author is writing it as a dry run for a novel concept. Doing my small part to spread the word on one of my fave works in the fandom. Happy New year, loved the Couples Therapy work.

Ooh I haven't read but I'm adding to my list immediately. Thank you!! I love a good angsty zelink <3

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youwouldntbelievehowigothere · 10 months

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@zelinkcommunity

Chapter 3 of unnamed OOT child timeline arranged marriage Zelink story. spoilers: I don’t think this chapter really has anything to do with letters. It does have the first scene I wrote for this story.

<-Previous Chapter | First Chapter | Next Chapter->

CH 3: LETTERS

They arrived at the castle in the night, to a calamitous homecoming. Her horse had returned in the morning and the search had started not long after. Her father gripped her tightly in a hug, and Zelda returned it. When he was done, he clasped a hand on Link’s shoulder.

“Thank you for getting my daughter home safely,” he said, “Oh– you’re injured?”

Link’s hand unconsciously went to the white bandage over his eye. “You should be thanking her for getting me here in mostly one piece.”

The king looked to his daughter, forgetting as always what exactly she was capable of. Zelda didn’t mind too much. Even after she had accused Ganondorf of conspiring to take over the kingdom, leading to his arrest and execution, her father never viewed her as anything but his delicate daughter. Impa had taught her to be underestimated in terms of strength and battle were never bad things so it wasn’t an assumption that bothered her too greatly.

“I had another dream, father, I’m sure Impa told you,” she said.

Her father furrowed his brow, as if just recalling that Impa had told him such a thing. “Right. She did say that, oh, we’ll have to send someone to inform her you’re alright.” He smiled broadly, thought worry still colored his mannerisms. “I am just happy to have both of you safe and sound here. Link, would you like to go to the healers? Or perhaps do you need food?”

“I’m just tired, Your Grace, please allow me to retire.”

“Oh of course, of course, I’ll send the healer to your quarters,” the king said, then added to the servant who would carry out the task, “and have a bath and fresh clothes sent as well.”

Link nearly protested, but thought better. Her father was a master of hospitality and would rest at nothing to make sure his guests were treated well.

Link left, and the king turned to Zelda, “if I could trouble you, my daughter, I’m sure you’re also tired, but I would like to know what has happened to you two, as well as…” he paused, probably trying to think of a way to phrase it. “...to speak with you about something weighing on my mind.”

“Please father,” she said.

He started walking back to his office, and she followed.

Once in the room, he closed the door. Zelda took this as prompting to explain all that had happened. Her rash decisions, the rogue Gerudo who had attacked Link. She left out her suspicions about the Gerudo, and whether the two that had escaped were in any capacity to attack again. Or their possible motives beyond revenge.

Her father listened attentively, not asking any questions. Until she faltered describing Link’s injuries. His blood was still under her fingernails.

“How is Link, really?” he asked, gentle.

She sighed. “He lost his eye in battle. We went to the Kokiri for healing, but even with all that we’ve done, I think it still pains him in some way.”

“Can he still fight?”

“I believe so. His limbs are still well, though…”

“Though?”

“He’s tired,” she said, “I worry about him. I worry that one day he’ll just leave and never return.”

Her father stroked his beard. “You know, I sent him to destroy the Gohma nest because I sensed something similar. He’s a boy, or rather,” her father corrected, “a man who needs purpose.”

“Yes, I’ve felt that way as well.”

“I was planning on giving him a reward after he returned. I know he claims he doesn’t want much, but… he needs a home.”

“What were you planning to give him?”

Her father’s eyes held a mischievous glitter as he answered, “Hyrule’s most precious treasure.”

Zelda tilted her head. What could her father be referring to? There were many precious treasures in Hyrule castle, she had never thought of one being more precious than another.

“If he would accept, of course,” her father continued, “Though, I suspect he will.”

Something that Link would want? He already had a splendid sword and shield, and many other tools. A nostalgic memory of him playing a sad song on his ocarina and Zelda knew what her father meant. The ocarina of time… of course. Zelda nodded. It was a powerful instrument, but one that he would use for good.

“That seems like a good idea,” she agreed.

Her father smiled. “I’m glad you agree.”

…

The next evening, after a stern talking to from Impa and much rest and recuperation, Zelda was about to enter her father’s study to speak to him when she heard another voice on the other side of the door.

“Thank you for letting me rest before summoning me. I can give you a report of the monster, though it would take some time to write it–”

Her father had summoned Link to give a report? That was unlike him. He usually liked the tale to be told over dinner, with a small audience of Zelda and Impa. Zelda was more of the hero’s royal sponsor than her father was when it came to practicalities of it. So while her father could’ve assumed his daughter would join him for after dinner tea, Zelda had received no official summon.

For this reason, she loitered outside the door, listening in rather than entering.

Her father interrupted Link, “Oh yes, the monster. Sorry Link, I have something else on my mind.”

“Your Grace?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while and with how capable she is…” her father continued on, pausing for a sigh before saying, “I think it's time.”

“Time?”

“As you know, my daughter has grown up into a capable young woman, and I’ve given her much freedom, as much as a princess can have. I think it's about time for her to take on more responsibility for the future of the kingdom. Or rather,” he corrected, “a queen should have a king by her side.”

There was silence and then her father’s voice again. “You seem surprised. It’s often the case that kings choose their children’s spouses, and Zelda has never expressed any interest in anyone.”

“She… hasn’t?”

“Not to me. Though I am her father. I’m probably the last person she’d want to tell.” He laughed, deep and resonant. “Either way, it’s time for such things and it weighs hard on my heart to give her away.”

Her father was a sentimental man, as it wasn’t as if she would leave her father’s home as some daughters might. No, she would stay and prepare for her eventual inheritance. She supposed her time would be diverted towards other tasks though, ones that didn’t involve her father…

Link’s voice broke her out of her ponderance, as he asked a prudent question, “Do you have someone in mind already?”

“I actually do. He’s a good man, I think she will be pleased.”

“She does deserve the best.”

“I agree,” her father said, “she is Hyrule’s most precious treasure after all. Only a man worthy of Hyrule could be worthy of her.”

Zelda stopped.

She was Hyrule’s most precious treasure? She moved away from the door, needing to think. If she was Hyrule’s treasure, and her father wanted to reward Link with such a gift… that would mean…

She was going to be given to Link in marriage? Or at least offered?

Would he say yes?

She stopped. That’s what she was worried about? If he would say yes?

Of course she’d always known she would need to get married someday, and it was something she had accepted. The only thing she hadn’t accepted was that it might not be who she wanted. Because he might not want her.

Zelda needed to be far away from both of them, and she turned to walk back the way she came. Her steps were so hurried, her legs tangled in her skirts as they hadn’t since she was young, and she stumbled. She caught herself and lifted them to avoid another embarrassment.

Why now? Why did her father think now was the time? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been an adult for too long, or too short of a time. It certainly was a time she could be married. Was it caused by Link’s injury?

Though he had lost an eye, it didn’t seem like it would hinder him too greatly. He was a superb warrior, and she was sure he would be able to overcome this challenge as he had all of the others.

Or had it simply been the time. Her father had grown to like Link, and perhaps he’d been waiting on an excuse to make him his son in law. Perhaps her father had always thought Link would make a good king, or perhaps…

Zelda’s cheeks burned. Perhaps he knew about her feelings.

But what about Link’s feelings?

His response had been respectful, almost reverent, but… had it been affectionate? He thought she deserved the best, but that didn’t bely any particular attachment.

Oh, what would she do?

…

The days passed quickly and Link spent much of it resting and Zelda spent much of it worrying. Her father had arranged an awards ceremony and Zelda knew, just knew that the proposal would happen there. And she couldn’t wait.

And she dreaded it.

She ought to tell him.

She ought to…

But…

What if she was wrong?

How embarrassing would that be?

And what if she asked and got an unfavorable answer?

What then?

So Zelda in her selfishness waited.

…

He hadn’t seemed strongly impacted by the news. No, he accepted it with a bow and thanks, as how else could such a favor be accepted? The favor of the king’s daughter. Of her hand in marriage.

No, it wasn’t something that one could refuse without good reason, and Link seemed to have none.

She should have warned him. She had guessed this was coming and said nothing… because… and it was shameful to admit, but she had wanted this outcome. Despite the fact it would force his hand.

He met her eyes, and she knew her ears must have flushed at the attention.

“And with that matter out of the way, let the feast commence!” her father said with joy.

With the feast started, the newly engaged couple was awarded some time to talk to each other. Though Link always said little. He’d been like that since he was a boy. Only speaking of how she should deal with Ganondorf, and looking at her sadly when she asked for his name.

He still had that sad look in his eye sometimes. Now as an adult she recognized it as a mature sort of melancholy, a precocious look for how young he had been. He was still young to have it.

Zelda knew why, even if he wouldn’t tell her directly. She would dream things, terrible things that felt like nightmares, and yet, she knew that on some level they were real. He had lived through it, how much, she couldn’t be sure.

Zelda studied her new fiance as he ate. There was no real tell on how he truly felt. His face was neutral, if not a little serious, the eyepatch he had now only adding to the severity. His appetite was healthy.

She couldn’t exactly ask his honest thoughts on his reward for saving their kingdom yet again, not with so many people listening. Many people’s understanding was of a romantic relationship, and who was Zelda to disappoint?

The red hair of a serving girl reminded Zelda of a disappointment Link might have. She swallowed such bitterness and tried to think of something normal to ask. What would a newly arranged fiance say to her new fiance if she wasn’t secretly in love with him?

She started with a smile and asked something incredibly inane. “Do you like the duck?”

He glanced up mid chew, and she cursed her bad timing. He swallowed and nodded.

“I suppose I’m going to be spoiled from now on.” he replied after a moment.

She laughed, even though it wasn’t funny. “Yes, though don’t worry. I will find tasks enough for you that it will feel earned.”

“I don’t think there’s a thing someone could do to earn you,” he answered.

Stunned in silence, Zelda puzzled if that was a compliment or not. She felt as though it was. The reverence was… something that Link sometimes had towards her. It went beyond how a hero’s fealty to his princess. She didn’t know what it meant.

When she had been younger she was sure it was love, but now that she was older she wondered if it was something like Madonna syndrome. If he’d put her on some pedestal he could never reach. Or perhaps even that was too assumptive, and instead he simply saw the difference in their stations and felt it was unprofessional to push boundaries.

She had thought they were friends at least.

It wasn’t quite fair to push a friend into such an… intimate position if he only wanted to serve the royal family. But at the same time, she reasoned, he had said yes. And what woman would be satisfied with a husband who was supposed to lay down his life for another woman? Zelda certainly wouldn’t like that!

The dinner continued on, and Zelda talked more with others than her new fiance.

Later in the night, the two were able to secure a walk around the garden and a much needed opportunity to talk away from prying ears.

“Did you know?” he asked, surprising her with his promptness. Here it came, his accusation that she trapped him, she abused her power over him, that she– “Or did your father spring this on you as well?”

She internally let out a sigh. “I think he had hinted as much and took my response as an affirmative, though he did not ask me straight out.”

“I believe he did something similar for me.” he laughed once. She thought it was a lovely sound. “He told me he was intending to find a husband for you, but I never thought he meant me.”

“He asked me if I thought you deserved the most precious treasure in Hyrule.” Heat flared in her cheeks as she realized the implication. “Though I didn’t know it was me, I couldn’t assume–”

He laughed again. “And what did you think it was?”

“I thought he meant the Ocarina of Time.”

The moment the words left her lips, his countenance changed. His easygoing smile became forced, and a tension came into his shoulders.

“Why would I need something like that?” he asked, levity as intense as a drawn sword.

She furrowed her brow. “Well, I didn’t think you needed it, but you do like to play the ocarina. I am able to use the goddess harp to do magic, I thought… it might be useful.”

“No, If it were a choice between that and you, obviously I’d pick–” he stopped himself. “That is to say, I’m not unhappy with this turn of events.”

Thank the goddesses…

Not unhappy and happy were two different things though. Zelda’s brow creased again.

“I had hoped you weren’t. It is hard to refuse a king’s gift… I’ve seen men accept mighty burdens in the guise of gifts without thinking just because it was my father who gave them.”

“Are you implying you’re a burden?” he teased, “because it was only when we were children that I had to carry you home after twisting an ankle. You’ve been unburdensome since then.”

“Truely?”

He nodded, some of his ease returning. “I can only hope I will not become a burden to you, on account of my… education.”

“You’ll pick it all up quickly,” she assured. “Besides, Hyrule has had its fair share of warrior kings, my great grandfather in fact was…” His distance stumbled her family history lesson. He stared over the moat, over Castle town, and into Hyrule field. “Are you… really okay with this?” she asked.

Her soft question pushed him from his reflective trance, and he nodded. “We’re adults now, right? Isn’t this the sort of thing adults do?”

She couldn’t find fault with his logic, and offered a timid smile. When he returned it, she thought her future was not doomed.

~~~~~~~~~~

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