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lightwritesym · 7 months

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TOTK Prequel Fanfic: In Three Years... [PART 1]

It’d been a few years since Ganon had been defeated–three years to be exact. After visiting all regions of Hyrule, Zelda and Link return to Hateno village to rest for a few months. Rebuilding efforts are underway and the Princess–now twenty years of age–couldn't be happier, especially now as Link is back at her side. The Silent Knight himself felt just as content; he was always happy so long as his Princess was safe and sound.

But the Princess wasn’t safe from her regrets.

Link’s house was simple and quaint, with only one floor and a loft. It was those little touches of color and light that Zelda brought into the residence–with Link’s permission–that made it feel homely for her. It might not look like much when you first open the door, but light the fireplace, bring out the eye-catching ceramics, add a few wildflowers in a vase for color, and it transforms into a place of warmth and comfort.

Zelda loved it so much that she asked Link if a cooking pot could be fitted in his home so she could learn to make all the unique dishes they had in their travels. He agreed to the idea, but only under the condition that she would follow a recipe and not her own. It was the first big addition to the house after a series of small ones and the princess was looking forward to doing more in the future–with Bolson’s help, of course.

She liked living the simpler life–but why? Zelda wondered this until she thought back to her early life in the Castle.

The cold, stone walls surrounding her.

The servants bustling in and out of her room.

The giant banners reminding her she was royalty.

And of course, the expectations that came with.

But here in Hateno Village, everyone showed nothing but unrequited love for their princess. The first day she moved to the village, she was given new clothes to wear, food to eat, and flowers to make her smile. The Mayor saw to it that every one of her needs were met, so long as the people could help it. All the elders taught her useful skills, such as sewing or preparing ink to write with.

But the children–goodness, those children!

They were especially fascinated with her highness, particularly for her knowledge of the wild; all it took was one small lesson on the different types of frogs there were on a rainy day, and the questions all came flooding in–the princess never felt so elated to answer them! It took parents calling their tiny scholars home for Zelda to finally catch a break. The Mayor’s daughter, Karin, gave her a big hug before running home, expressing how excited she was to learn more from the princess.

“Goodnight Miss Zelda!” The girl had said. It filled the princess with contentment; never had she felt so overwhelmed with open arms and joyful faces. Hateno Village was truly the place to call home.

But…

The more she pondered those smiling faces, why did it make Zelda feel more and more–guilty?

“Princess?”

Zelda shook her head out of her reverie. She was seated at the dining table, book in hand, with a half-empty plate beside her. “Y-yes?” she stammered. How long had she been staring off into space?

Link was standing by the door.

“I’m going to grab some rice and eggs from East Wind.” He said. “Do you want anything?”

“Oh–Milk,” Zelda said, forcing a smile. “I know I’ll sleep better after a warm cup of milk.”

Link nodded. He turned and reached for the door handle when he paused. Zelda looked up at him, anticipating a question from him. Instead, he shook his head–

“I won’t be long.” Link said before the door shut behind him.

That much was true. He wouldn’t take longer than ten minutes, which was all the time Zelda needed to get ready for bed.

Closing her book, she left it on the table to get changed up in the loft.

But as she undressed, the princess became lost in her thoughts again; this always happened after traveling through Hyrule for months. On the road, Zelda was never so distracted. Obviously, her mind had been occupied by the rebuilding efforts and the needs of her people that she hardly had the time to sit down and just be on her own. At some point under all that stress, Zelda was practically begging for a break from her duties–

But now that she and Link were taking an extended break after three years of almost non-stop travel, she suddenly felt–unease? Was that the right word?

Zelda wasn’t so sure; it wasn’t that she felt unsafe by any means, especially not with Link at her side, but those voices of doubt that once plagued her mind a hundred years ago somehow resurfaced, taunting her. She thought she was beyond those voices but seeing those faces–the faces of her current subjects, so few in numbers–they all had to adapt to living on the edges of the world because Zelda couldn’t stop the Calamity in time. The way they were living now, vulnerable to weather or monster attacks out in the wild, was because she had failed them long before they were born and they didn't even know it. The villagers were so welcoming to a long lost princess–

But if they found out that she was responsible for the kingdom’s downfall, how would they react? How would they treat her then?

Zelda thought about the elders of Hateno and the stories they told of their families; how their parents clamored to escape central Hyrule and the loved ones they lost amidst the chaos. To this day, none of them know if they have any surviving family members around the kingdom. If they somehow did, they're too old to travel alone and are far more vulnerable to the elements and monsters.

“It took a few decades for the village to feel safe here,” Uma had said to Zelda a day ago. “My husband wanted to start a family but I had that feeling in my heart that we needed to wait until the world was a little safer. My darling was upset with me–he thought I’d lied to him about wanting to settle down, but that was far from it.” The old woman sighed. “After five years, when those bokoblin hordes migrated towards the west, we all breathed a sigh of relief. My husband felt so guilty and apologized thereafter. We had our baby the next year and became the family we’ve always wanted.” Uma had smiled fondly at the last sentence. “Take it from an old woman–at some point in your life, you’re going to have to make sacrifices for the people you love, even if it hurts them.”

Those last words resonated within Zelda–why?

The princess laid awake under the covers, dressed in her nightshirt. It was all she could do while her mind raced with all the kingdom’s grievances post-Calamity.

Then she heard the front door click open followed by footsteps.

“Princess?”

It was Link. He was back from East Wind.

But rather than greeting him, Zelda remained still under the covers. She heard him call her again, then his footsteps walking up the stairs. She closed her eyes, and took slow breaths. She didn’t see him, but after a few moments of silence, she heard him descend to the bottom floor.

She hoped Link didn’t feel bad.

The night brought on a chill. Regardless if Zelda had the sheets on her person, her skin prickled as the core of her body shook violently–did Link forget to add fuel to the fire place?

Perhaps the window needed to be shut–but was it not already closed? Zelda remembered doing so.

Why was she so–

Cold?

Shaking, Zelda propped herself up on her hands and called for Link.

“Link–”

AHHHHHHHH!

Screams.

There were screams everywhere.

Zelda shot up from bed and looked around–it was dark, but from the cracks in the window, she could see a glow of red wisp seeping through. The Princess gasped and jumped out of bed, backing away.

“Link?” She called again. When no answer came, she ran downstairs to find the first floor of his house empty. Even the furniture was gone, all except–the dining table and the vase full of silent princesses, now wilted. Zelda looked at their pitiful state.

“But… these were just picked–”

The door burst open, but Zelda had no time to react when Link, in his tattered champion's tunic, grabbed her hand, and hauled her outside his house. She yelled in protest, but the Hero wasn’t listening–she didn’t even have a chance to look at his face. She tried to pry his hand off of her arm until she realized–they were no longer in Hateno, but a burning Castle Town.

And Zelda was no longer in her nightshirt, but her ceremonial dress. The sky burned an angry red color, and the sun’s rays felt more like a burning blaze than a gentle warmth. The Guardians, she saw, aimed at innocent, helpless, lives. Families–mothers, fathers, grandparents–and children–All vaporized in the blink of an eye.

It was all Zelda could do to not scream, but she had to keep running with Link.

They made it past the gates of Castle Town, but rather than veering off into the east, Link kept running straight ahead.

“Link! Where are we going?!” Exclaimed Zelda.

But he didn’t respond.

When they crossed onto the Sacred Grounds, Zelda finally ripped her arm free from his grip. She massaged her sore forearm and noticed the red marks where the Hero’s fingers had grappled her.

Link stopped just a few yards before her, his back turned to her.

“We have to find Impa!” The Princess called out to him. “She said she’d–wait for us…” Zelda trailed off. It was then she realized–how quiet the world became. Not even the wind blew.

But the sky was still red.

And Zelda felt even more cold.

“You failed.”

She looked up at the Hero.

“W-what?” she gasped. “Link–how could you–”

“Is it not true, princess?” He sounded so–so–Robotic. “You failed to unlock your sacred power–you failed to stop the Calamity.”

Zelda stood frozen in the center of the Sacred Grounds. She always felt weak and helpless–but Link never judged her. He would never say these things to her–unless this is how he truly felt about her.

“You’re–you’re not the Link I know.” Zelda said, growing in confidence. “The Link I know, he–he would never say these things because understands me!” She pointed at the imposter. “So tell me right now–who are you?!”

The puppet of Link started to chuckle in his voice–then the chuckle crescendoed into an evil cackle–and finally, maniacal laughter until his body slowly disintegrated into gloomy red wisps.

But now… there stood a familiar figure in the distance. Zelda’s eyes widened in shock.

“F-father?”

King Rhoam walked towards the Sacred Grounds from the south. Wait–

How did he escape Hyrule Castle? That was the last time Zelda saw him before he…

She shook her head.

“This–this must be a dream.” She said to herself.

“Oh no, Zelda.” said his voice in her head. “This is no dream, princess.”

The Princess looked up to see her Father standing before her–without a face. She backed away.

“I-I’m asleep and dreaming–” she told herself when she bumped into someone behind her. She spun around to see Urbosa–also faceless.

“No–this is reality.” She heard her voice in her head. “You did fail–one hundred years ago.”

“Now look at us–” said Mipha’s voice in Zelda’s head. The Champions appeared around Zelda, also faceless.

“Look at them.” said Daruk’s voice in her head.

Zelda soon found herself looking in every direction, seeing standing, faceless bodies of Hylians, Zoras, Gorons, Ritos, Grerudos–all Hyruleans, all of Zelda’s people. They all perished in the Calamity and Zelda now saw how many suffered.

“This is all because of you.” Revali's voice said in her head.

“Because you failed.” King Rhoam’s voice said. “And now you must pay the price.”

Zelda tried running in one direction but was blocked by a wall of faceless bodies, closing in on her. She tried running in another direction, but to no avail.

She was trapped–she had nowhere to go.

Zelda fell to her knees, tears falling from her eyes as she begged–

“Father! Urbosa!”

They all closed in on her.

“N-no! Please!”

And closer.

“I couldn’t–!”

And closer…

“Forgive me!”

And closer–

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

Link sprang up from his cot and grabbed his knight’s sword before running up the stairs in one swift motion. His heart was beating fast–who or what got in his house? How could he not have heard–

He paused at the top of the stairs, only to see Zelda screaming and writhing in bed. Without a second thought, Link dropped his sword and hurried to her bedside. He reached for her flailing arms, trying to keep them from hitting him.

“Princess!”

“NO, LET ME GO!”

Her eyes were still closed as she fought him. Finally, Link pinned her arms down at her sides as he said–

“Zelda, open your eyes!”

When Zelda opened her eyes, she saw Link looking over her–then screamed at the sight of him. He stepped back, hands raised in defense in case she tried striking him–not that she would ever do that to him, but with the state she was in, Link wasn’t so certain. He kept his distance.

"It's okay.” He said.

Zelda's eyes had so much fear in them. She was a sweaty mess and her hands gripped the bed sheets so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"It’s okay," Link said again. “It’s me.”

After a moment, Zelda slowly looked around the room. The fireplace was still lit, but the fire burned low. And the moonlight glowed a pale white through the window.

No red sky–no faceless people.

And Link was here with the most concerned expression she’s seen from him.

Zelda felt for the center of her chest–her heartbeat was finally slowing down as reality settled in. Then she broke down crying into her hands.

Before Link could say anything, there was an urgent knock on the door. Zelda became fearfully quiet.

“Link!” called a man’s voice from outside. “Is everything alright?!”

Link took one look at Zelda before hurrying down the loft to answer the door. When he opened the door, Thadd, Nack, and Rhodes greeted him with pitchforks and a farming hoe.

“We heard screaming,” said Thadd. “It sounded like the Princess. Is she alright?”

“...Ah.” Link hesitated to reply. “She’s, uh…” He stopped when he heard sniffling up the loft. He sighed, turning back to the men.

“She will be alright. I can’t say anymore than that.”

The men didn’t appear all too satisfied with that answer, but they weren’t going to argue with him. Not at this hour anyway.

“Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help,” said Nack. “You know I live close.”

After saying their goodbyes, Link quietly shut the door. He didn’t hear Zelda crying anymore, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t upset. He took the stairs to the loft and when he made it into her field of view, he saw her curled up on the bed, clutching onto her pillow.

Link carefully approached her and knelt down by her bedside. He took her hand into his.

"It was only a nightmare." He said.

"No, it wasn’t…!” She cried. “It was the Calamity! All those people–the ones we saw in Castle Town when the Guardians cornered them and they… they…!"

Link reached for the bedside drawer to pull a clean cloth; he held it up to her.

“Here.”

Zelda slowly craned her head up and took the cloth with a shaky hand. She sat up slowly, wiping the sweat and tears off her face. Link gave her a moment to compose herself. She dropped her hands into her lap and took a ragged breath.

“That’s not all,” she said. “It wasn’t just Hylians, but all the other races and…” She looked down at the cloth in her hands. “Our friends... My father… they said I had failed them…!”

Her face twisted with grief as the tears began to flow once more. Link sat by her side.

“I know there’s no changing the past, but I can’t help this–this feeling of guilt when the people of Hyrule are still struggling…” She closed her eyes, recalling what the elders of Hateno had told her and the people's plethora of needs. The burden weighed on her heart like lead.

“How can I protect the people if I’ve already failed them once…?”

Zelda felt Link’s hand atop of hers again. She looked up at him with a tear-stained face; there was a tenderness in his eyes that soothed something in her soul.

“My Princess,” He said softly. “Before I was appointed to you, I had made the decision to not speak. That decision has taught me to be grateful for becoming a Knight of Hyrule–but it has also taught me to listen. Of all the people whom I’ve had the pleasure–or displeasure–of meeting, none of them compared to the struggles that you’ve endured.” Link closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the times Zelda had been berated and yelled at by her father. “You did everything you could to fulfill your destiny–even if the attempt was futile, you still tried because you had hope that something would come of it. You did it out of love for your people, and because of that-you yelled at me in frustration, but I understood why." He chortled slightly at this before turning solemn. "You don't realize how many people love you or, at least, learned something from you-I know I have.” His brows furrowed with self-reproach. “During the trial of the sword, I failed so many times for days on end–every time I reawakened before the sword’s pedestal, I… I thought that the sword was wrong in choosing me. I was ready to give up until I remembered all the sacrifices you made–how you never stopped trying, no matter how futile the attempt was.” Link shook his head. “I wasn’t going to let your efforts go to waste. I was determined to keep trying, no matter how long it took, so that I’d be strong enough to defeat Ganon. I wanted to defeat him, to free you, because…”

Link stopped.

He told himself he would never mention this to anyone, let alone Zelda. The words that lingered on his tongue would make him a burden to her, something he forbade himself to become; he was her knight and that is how it should be, nothing more than that–

“...Because what?” Asked Zelda. She looked so helpless–she needed comfort, and he was the only person who could give her that. But if he said these words, their relationship would forever change. Was Link prepared to go through with it?

Yes. He most certainly was.

“...I wanted to see your beautiful smile again.”

He couldn’t even look at her while saying those words.

Zelda was speechless–this was how he felt all along?

All these years, she thought Link was only trying to save face because of her royal status–but hearing him open up, realizing that she’d always been on his mind from the moment he was at her side…

It made her cry even more.

Link appeared worried and was beginning to regret everything he said so intimately to her highness when she leaned into his chest.

“Link, hold me–Please…” She begged.

How could he say no?

He held her close in his arms, and Zelda never felt so safe and relieved.

[END OF PART 1]

#fanfic #post botw #prequel #tears of the kingdom #fanfiction #zelink #zelda #link

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rocknroll-stolemyass · 7 months

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Headmaster ? Headmaster ?

And where pray tell is the Cunilinguslord

#doctor who #star wars #david tennant #star wars prequels #good omens #michael sheen #botw

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shellshooked · 2 years

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jedi!zelda my beloved

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vampire-wizard-solidarity · 1 year

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people who make theories about totk without even mentioning the calamity 10k ago from botw’s intro are kind of wild to me. like. totk is a direct sequel to botw. why would you think they’d introduce a whole new plot with new lore completely disconnected from botw instead of using the clear setup mysteries from botw. some of you are clearly treating this as a a completely new instalment instead of a continuation of botw bc ur so obsessed with ‘the timeline’ or larger zelda lore that it’s difficult to acknowledge that the zelda series never really cared much for continuity nor exploring larger series lore in detail.

#no that’s not hylia no that’s not botw zelda that’s clearly the princess from 10k years ago #and no we won’t be getting a skyward sword prequel WE WILL BE GETTING A BOTW SEQUEL #stop trying to make this game something it’s not !!#totk #botw #tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #totk theory

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birb-boyo · 1 year

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I swear. If I have to rebuy every armor set in totk again. I’m gonna go insane.

I better start out with my gerudo vai set too or this game is homophobic

This is a threat, Nintendo

#totk #totk gameplay #also #have you guys seen those videos that have Ganon(?) turning around the person is like #DEMISE #I doubt that it’s Demise #I hope it’s not #strictly because that means that this might be the last zelda game if it is Demise #That means it really would be a Skyeard Sword prequel #I NEED ANOTHER GAME NINTENDO #DONT DO THIS TO ME #totk link #botw 2 #tears of the kingdom

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novantinuum · 11 months

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Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Rating: General Audiences Words: 3.7K~ Summary: Sir Arwel Haywood, loyal knight of Hyrule’s royal guard and proud father of two, has never considered himself a particularly religious man. Regardless, he can’t help but fear the kind of deity who would condemn a mere child to being an instrument of Her endless war. (Or… the story of how Link’s father comes to learn about his son’s fateful destiny.)

Final chapter! I look forward to moving on to working on some other pre-Calamiy ideas, now that this one is finished.

If you enjoy, I’d heartily appreciate your support via reblogs here and/or comments/kudos on AO3!

___

Preview:

On any other occasion such a hearty beef stew would shine with excellence, its flavors fit for a king.

Tonight, however— caged under the ever-expanding shadow of an ill-fated future yet to be revealed— Arwel finds it exceedingly difficult to so much as swallow.

His throat is entirely dry, void of saliva, making chewing through the cubed meat an altogether unpleasant ordeal. The beans turn to mush within his mouth, the once aromatic spices laced within the broth bringing no worthwhile degree of pleasure to this dining experience. Who could’ve guessed that the simple meal they shared before Link left on his trip north would be the last normal dinner they’d ever have? Certainly not him. Not anyone.

He keeps a close watch over the mannerisms of his son while struggling to finish his food, taking note of all the minute shifts in expression he’s grown to so intimately understand as a father. Link may not be the most talkative boy, not as inclined as others to share his most vulnerable emotions, but the precise alignment of his features always have a habit of betraying him. And tonight, his eyes look sad. They’re filled with an understanding and wisdom far beyond his years, as if— on some subconscious level, by simply making physical contact with that sword— he’s already aware of his nonnegotiable place within Hyrule’s long and turbulent history.

It takes active effort, but in time Arwel manages to empty his bowl.

At Kelra’s request, he heads into the kitchen to rinse the dishes whilst she tucks little Aryll into bed. A fair split, he thinks… given how hard she’s worked today to prepare this stew. Beyond the stone archway segmenting this room from the rest of the living area, he can hear the soft pitter-patter of bare feet pacing back and forth across the floorboards. It’s their son. Waiting. Anxious. Restless energy pouring out in a desperate plea for balance, just like his own obsessive polishing of their paring knives. Just like all his wife’s nervous ticks, the repetitive crinkling of her nose and fidgeting of her hands that becomes so common when she’s worried.

Because they all know what happens next… that what’s yet to be discussed will change everything.

Neither their world nor their family will ever be the same.

#loz #botw #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #loz fanfiction #arwel #kelra #link #my writing stuff #the ballad of aryll #(prequel stuff)

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sherlocktheravencat · 1 year

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Tiddy ability

Ability to tiddy

Abilitiddy

#aruart #fanart #legend of zelda #traditonal art #ganondorf #botw #totk #rehydrated ganondorf #amity #doing a prequel fic about him btw #prequel to born evil that is

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amiharana · 1 year

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Finally! Someone who thinks it wouldn't be a narrative mistake to bring back the champions!!

I've always seen people say that bringing them back takes away from the tragedy of their deaths, but we never got to know them enough for that to feel like a proper tragedy.

Like, they gave us one of the coolest concepts for a Zelda game story wise (Link having an actual team who are supposed to fight alongside him against Ganon instad of just people helping him along the way) and they kill them off before the game starts???

Bringing them back not only helps us to know them better but can actually improve on the tragedy thing. All of the champions have been dead for 100 years, a lot of stuff has changed and seeing their reactions to that change would be more interesting than them staying dead.

welcome to the party anon!!! i'm just selfish and i want the champions back!!!

honestly, the way the champions' presence was handled in botw in itself is a narrative mistake lol. if the point was teach link about loss and sacrifice, nintendo sure did a great job of showcasing that by. giving us absolutely nothing about the champions' importance in their respective societies. /s

ok that's a lie, i think they showed that profound impact of loss and sacrifice at least somewhat well with mipha and the zoras actually. since the zora live a long time, plenty of them are still alive from the time of the calamity such as muzu, who still held a lot of resentment and blame towards link for mipha's death, or sidon, who is always looking at mipha's statue when you interact with him at the zora's domain. the cutscene after you defeat waterblight, talk to mipha's spirit, and then position ruta to point at the castle has got to be one of the most heart-wrenching moments in the entire game. LIKE HELLOOOOO THIS PART RIGHT HERE MAKES ME FUCKING BAWL MY EYES OUT 😭😭😭 so even though we only get to know mipha for a short period of time, we could at least see and feel the effect of her death in her people and how she felt the effect her death on her people. this is a good example of portraying loss and sacrifice, for me at least.

but i can't say the same for the other champions, they don't seem to be as wrecked about their champion as the zora do. and that probably has to do with the fact that the other races don't live as long as the zora, so unlike them, the characters of other races that you interact with weren't there when their champions died. girl like kaneli probably wasn't even born yet when revali got his ass kicked ☝️😒 so for the other races of hyrule, all they get are legends and stories of these really cool people who died a hundred years prior. i know you guys aren't crying ur asses off everyday about errrr.. president theodore roosevelt dying a hundred years ago! you didn't know him like that, get out of your parasocial relationship with him!!! so in that regard, i understand the way that nintendo chose to handle the relationship between the other champions and the descendents of their people.

but ur so incredibly true for that anon. the zelda team chose to break so many traditional conventions in botw, and the addition of a group of chosen champions to pilot these technological marvels of mechanisms to fight an evil so intense that the hero actually needs that assistance for even a sliver of success has so much potential. i wish we got to know the champions of 10,000 years ago and the champions of 100 years ago. if i really got to know and love them, i would probably understand what it would be like to lose them and feel it.

#ask #amihan's botwverse #i haven't played age of calamity so idk what it's like as a prequel #but they should make a prequel that centers around the original link zelda and champions who first piloted the beasts #now THAT would be a revolutionary game #and then just name them really similarly to the champions in botw.....#that way i can pretend that when link and the rito champion remari interact in the ten thousand year ago prequel #that it would have been how revali would have interacted with link in botw #who's revalink i only know remarink!#they should bring back revali just because i wanna ask him why he wrote about link like That in his diary

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linksthoughtbrambles · 2 years

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Blindsighted

A short story for Zelink Week 2022’s ‘Sparring’ prompt (see end for notes). 5886 words.

~~~~~‿ ‿~~~~~‿ ‿~~~~~

Link wouldn’t be nervous.

He would not.

He’d just eaten a meal that had probably been delicious. He’d rushed it too much to be sure. Usually, he could both rush it and be sure, but today his mind was on those hallways and the training yard outside. He had to keep his cool. He had to stay knightly (he wasn’t actually a knight yet, just a lowly trainee, and technically not even that since he hadn’t set foot in the yard yet, but he’d be there within the hour). He especially needed to not make strange faces at that guy who kept eyeing him in the barracks.

He also had to keep his wits about him. He was almost entirely sure he’d win any sparring match today, but it would be a bad idea to humiliate people. If he was going to win, he’d try to win gracefully, and he wouldn’t brag about it. He wouldn’t even tell his father (not unless he asked, and he probably wouldn’t).

“Right, newbies, that’s it, up and out, up and out!”

Sir Mardec’s voice, punctuated by loud, dome-handed claps, set benches scraping, feet stomping, and plates clattering as all the “newbies” (Link among them) deposited their used breakfast-ware on the long table near the kitchen door.

“Fall in, fall in, fall in, fall in, come on! You do not want to keep Sir Greggan waiting!”

Link knew the name, but not the man. He’d heard some guys talking a few beds away from him the night before—about how Sir Greggan once bit the head clean off a pigeon and swallowed its beak, and that’s why his voice was so rough.

Link had fallen asleep trying not to imagine what it would be like to have a bird’s beak hooked onto your vocal cords. Then he dreamed about tweeting every time he opened his mouth—the bird wouldn’t fly out!

He dreamed lots of stupid things, and those also needed to stay under wraps. Not talking would definitely be best. Maybe he really would tweet if he opened his mouth. Considering his heart and stomach were rising toward his throat, anything was possible.

The mini-throng of new recruits finally flocked into the hallway, Link amidst it. So far, so good. He was just one of these people. Nothing… weird or… shameful… or… short about him at all. He wasn’t the shortest one here. Liliata was definitely shorter. She was a 15 year-old girl, but still…. shorter. He wasn’t the shortest.

He was second-shortest.

“MOVE IT, newbies!”

The shuffling became much more shuffly but also a good deal faster. Link concentrated on avoiding the heels of the guy in front of him. He couldn’t see past his back (which Link’s face was roughly in the middle of).

Non-newbies went about their business, hurrying past them on the other side of the hallway, some heading toward the yard and others down to the mess hall they’d just vacated. The wee-hour shift needed their breakfast (dinner? Maybe breakfast was dinner if you were about to sleep all day). A few people seemed to be carrying some kind of equipment around—didn’t look like any weapons Link knew of, though. When a pair of men passed the newbie-line carrying some unholy-looking cross between a clawshot and a giant worm, Link couldn’t resist—he leaned way out from behind the man-with-the-thick-back to watch the grapple-like thing dangle with a few careless rap-taps on the flagstones.

Then someone’s plate-armored chest smacked the back of Link’s neck and pivoted his whole body so Link’s nose became firmly entrenched in thick-back-man’s armpit. Link spluttered and regretted it in the space of the same instant (never a good first impression to spit into someone’s folding-parts). Thick-back-man made a unique sound (something on the order of “huwahuah-ehfth!”), and whoever’d just spun Link grabbed him by both shoulders and yanked him right-way-around.

For a split second, Link stood there, wide-eyed, while the man he’d just nosed wiped at his now-grosser underarm with a bewildered half-scowl. Then the laughter started.

A deep flush crawled up Link’s neck, finding its way all the way to the tips of his ears and the top of his head (not that anyone could see through his hair, but Link could sure feel it). He willed iron into his shoulders to stop them from making their way to his ear-tips, too. He didn’t dare look at the person holding his shoulders, and while he was still fighting with his own instinct to cringe in mortification, Sir Mardec stomped metallic clangs toward him with eyes zeroing in on Link.

“What the hell’s this about?” he said with his face crumpled on one side.

Link spent a little too long trying to figure out if the half-wrinkled face was amusement or the exact opposite. Sir Mardec barked at him next.

“I said, what. The. Hell’s. This. About. Soldier?”

First day out, not even at the training yard yet, and Link already had his first conundrum. He wasn’t supposed to talk. He was supposed to keep his stupid mouth shut! He-

“Sorry, Mardec. I barreled right into the kid. He ended up with a face full of underarm.”

“Him?! I’ve got an underarm full of short-pants’ snot!”

Now that was not fair. Link hadn’t blown his nose in there.

He… shouldn’t say that, of course…

The laughter’d only gotten louder, but a few claps from Sir Mardrec shut it down for the most part. “Alright, alright, what’s your name, half-height?”

That seemed unfair to Link, too, but he tried to ignore it. “Link, sir.”

The knight gave Link a few hesitant blinks. “Link.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir Lyle’s son?”

Link repressed a groan and an eyeroll. He’d been outed already! He’d hoped not to just be the royal guard captain’s son—not yet. “Yes, sir.”

The older soldier stared at him a long, appraising moment, looking him entirely up and down, head-to-toe.

Link would not shuffle his feet. Absolutely not.

“Well, s@$% me,” Sir Mardec said. Then he turned on his heel and stomped back to the head of the line, which started moving again with more than a little sniggering.

“Sorry, kid,” said the non-newbie beside Link.

“…It’s okay,” he replied.

“I’m Bernes.”

“I’m Link.”

“Ha! Yeah, I heard.”

“Oh. Yeah! Right.”

The older man chuckled. It made his short red beard crack like a carved pumpkin. “Nice to meet you. And you’ve already met this guy, but do you know his name?”

Thick-back-man sighed and turned his head sideways to eye Link. “I’m Kurst.”

“Cursed?”

“That’s right.”

Link supposed that was reasonable. Not too many people get spit in their armpits.

“So, first day,” Bernes said.

“Yeah. You?” Link asked, then kicked himself internally. He was supposed to be quiet, not ask questions.

“Me? Not at all. I’m headed to the yard, but I’ll be training you. Some of you, at least.”

“Oh.” Link wasn’t sure why Bernes was still walking next to him, but at least he couldn’t make the collision-hazard mistake this way.

“Nervous?”

Oh boy. To tell the truth or not to tell the truth? Maybe if Link was quiet long enough, he’d stop asking questions. Or maybe-

“Heh. Nervous, then, huh?”

Crap. “I…”

“Everyone’s nervous at first. Nothing to be ashamed of. Trying to live up to Sir Lyle can’t be a big help.”

A puffed laugh left Link before he had a chance to think about it. He wanted to say ‘No, it’s not,’ but that would’ve been absolutely the wrong thing to say. He was already short and awkward and thought about food way too much. He didn’t need anyone gossiping about his inadequacies even more than they already would.

So, Link settled and said, “My father’s a good teacher.”

He wasn’t sure what the long pause was about after that, but he didn’t mind it either.

“Well, he didn’t teach me. I’m too lowly for that,” Bernes said with a small chuckle. “Sir Greggan taught me.”

Link supposed that meant he was lowly, too, since he was about to meet Sir Greggan, but that was to be expected. He’d just arrived.

“He teaches everyone. Every soldier’s first stop.”

“…Oh.”

“He can sus out a weak parry or a lazy eye, or a tell, or a bad grip, a dropped shoulder, or pretty much anything from a hundred yards away. He’ll know where to put you. In a week, you’ll be better at this than you’ve ever been in your life, and better than you would’ve been without him for another five years.”

Link didn’t think that description matched very well with the story of a man biting the head off a pigeon, but he kept that to himself.

The hall opened to skies more-than-half clouded, silvery outlines reflecting diminished light across the grass and grey stones. Link didn’t mind clouds—they meant it’d be less hot. At the same time, though, having a nice, sunny yard to walk into might’ve brightened his outlook.

The line turned rightward against the yard wall, and Link followed but Bernes split toward the yard’s center with an easy wave, joining a group who must be their trainers. Link swallowed. Bernes seemed nice, at least. Better to get bonked by him than bonked by that guy who’d been ogling him.

And PRAISE HYLIA he had NOT said that out loud.

What was WRONG with him?

Keeping his mouth shut was clearly of major importance—he had to keep it the frick shut.

“ALRIGHT, YOU MUCK SPOUTS!”

The most gravelly voice Link had ever heard yanked him out of his invisible anxiety attack. Its owner’s face, grizzled and bespeckled with uneven stubble that seemed to grow in fits and starts, moved in a strangely exaggerated, asymmetrical manner, but maybe that was from straining to shout so loud.

“WELCOME TO THE TRAINING YARD! NOW YOU MIGHT THINK BEING HERE WITH ALL THESE SWORDS AND SHEILDS MEANS YOU’RE A SOLDIER. YOU’RE NOT! NO ONE HERE’S A SOLDIER UNTIL I SAY THEY ARE. IF I HAVE TO KEEP YOU IN THIS YARD WITH A TRAINING DUMMY FOR FIFTY YEARS BEFORE YOU’RE READY, THAT’S WHAT I’LL DO! AND DON’T EVEN THINK THE RUDDY WORD KNIGHT!

“EACH END OF THE LINE—APPROACH THE RACKS! TAKE ONE TRAINING SWORD AND ONE SHIELD AND GET OUTTA THE WAY! CIRCLE TOWARD THE OTHER HALF OF THE LINE AND PAIR OFF IN ORDER!”

It took a minute for cursed thick-back-man to start moving, but once he did Link followed promptly. He didn’t want Sir Greggan to have a reason to shout at him.

“KEEP MOVING. ONE. I SAID ONE. ONE OF EACH, YOU MUCKSPOUT! YES, YOU! PUT IT DOWN!”

Link couldn’t really wonder why that guy tried to pick up two shields. Sir Greggan was still shouting too much to let him think.

“YOU ARE TO DISARM AND PARRY ONLY. YOUR PARTNER IS THE TRAINEE ACROSS FROM YOU IN THE OTHER HALF OF THE LINE. IF YOU GET LEFT IN THE MIDDLE, FIND SOMEONE ON THE OUTSIDE! IF THERE’S NO ONE ON THE OUTSIDE, I’LL ASSIGN YOU A PARTNER! YOU’RE NOT GETTING OUT OF THIS!

“AGAIN! YOUR AIM IS TO DISARM YOUR OPPONENT AND PARRY THEIR STRIKES. MY MEN AND I WILL WALK THE FIELD AND WATCH YOU! BEGIN!”

The fellow who ended up across from Link was gangly, freckled, and had a slightly crooked nose. “Hi. I’m Jessrel.” he said. Then he sniffed, looking expectantly at Link.

Uh oh—challenged already. Link and his father had wholeheartedly agreed he needed to stay quiet. Link was way too silly and much too weird to be allowed to speak in public. But as the silence stretched, it became more and more uncomfortable to the point at which Link finally blurted, “Hi!” as little more than a squeak.

“Huh?” said his sparring partner.

Mistake number one in training already: check. Link cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi.”

Now the other man was blinking at him and shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. He didn’t appear at all interested in beginning the sparring exercise, and he kept the point of his blunt sword resting tip-first on the dusty ground.

Link had to say something else, didn’t he?

Surely he could introduce himself. There was no harm in that, was there? The other guy had done it.

“I’m Link,” he said.

“Oh,” said Jessrel. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, sure.” Shut up, Link. “You, too.”

“Well… should we start?”

Link managed a curt nod (finally!) rather than words, but Jessrel made a funny sort of face at that, kind of a half-a-wink on one side and a pout, and Link really had no idea what the heck that meant.

It became apparent immediately that if Jessrel had ever held a sword before, he certainly hadn’t tried to use it for anything. There was a particular rice-farmer in Hateno who regularly used an old sword to hack at weeds (and nothing else), and that guy was way better at it than Jessrel was.

At first, Jessrel tried to hold the short-sword like a knife, which some people do the first time because they’ve never really seen people use swords but they figure you’re supposed to stab with it, and they think of stabbing as an up-to-down motion because they’ve only ever stabbed with a knife, or they’ve seen Sheikah who hold their very different blades very differently (sometimes).

When this didn’t work out well for him (Link didn’t even have to parry him, Jessrel couldn’t figure out how to get a blow to land and sort of ended up trying not to stab his own knees a lot), he tried to copy Link’s grip, which was smart, really, because Link was good at this, but Link hadn’t demonstrated anything other than grip yet, so Jessrel was still in the dark. He just sort of… thrust his fist toward Link’s shield, as if he was trying to punch it, and he hit it alright—along with his own knuckles. He yelled and dropped the sword to shake his fingers out.

Now, Link didn’t have to be a master swordsman to beat Jessrel.

A quick glance around the yard told him anyone here could beat Jessrel.

So… that wasn’t an issue at all.

Nope—Link’s issue was simply the next speech conundrum. It was obvious Jessrel needed a little help. Link could give him that, but he’d have to talk in order to do so without being a total jerk. Jerk-Link would just keep letting him lose to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Nice-Link would give him advice first. Jessrel would still lose, but maybe he’d lose without feeling like cucco droppings.

He’d never been good at resisting the urge to be Nice-Link.

His father was going to roast him.

He’d say it was arrogant of Link. He wasn’t a trainer.

He’d also say Link should keep quiet, because he wasn’t so good at saying the right things.

But Link did know how to swing a sword.

He’d just have to keep his instructions minimal.

Jessrel picked the sword back up, copying Link’s grip again, but Link spoke (softly) before he could swing. “Can I give you a tip?”

“Huh?”

“Can I help a little?” Link tried again.

“Oh. I thought you meant rupees.”

Well, Link had picked the right person to talk to—Jessrel wasn’t any better at not being socially awkward than he was.

They spent the next half-hour incrementally improving Jessrel’s ability to perform a simple parry. Link thought it made sense to start there since Jessrel could do almost anything with that sword and Link would just parry it… better for him to learn how to deflect a blow (sort of… he got a little better at it, but not much). Maybe seeing Link do stuff with his sword would help, too.

Link did notice the footsteps of pacing soldiers behind him—he wasn’t sure whose, though. Jessrel could see them, but not Link.

“ALRIGHT, MUCK-SPOUTS! TRAINEES TOWARD THE NORTHERN WALL, MOVE TO YOUR RIGHT! YOU ON THE END, YOU CIRLCLE ALL THE WAY OVER HERE! THAT’S RIGHT, YOU! SAME THING, NEW PARTNER! GO!”

Link’s next opponent was a little more experienced but had no idea how to parry and swung his sword like an axe.

The next time Greggan stopped them, it was to switch them to longswords. Then they swapped partners again, then moved on to spears.

It occurred to Link that no one had tried to teach them anything yet. The trainers were sizing them up.

Link felt a little silly, then. He hadn’t been trying very hard to beat his partners. He’d been trying to help them instead.

Sir Greggan called a quick break for water. Link took a few gulps, and then a hand was on his shoulder. He nearly choked.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Link.”

It was Bernes. “You and me?”

“Yep. I’ve got you next round.”

“Oh. There aren’t enough trainers to spar with all of us, though.” Link twitched. He just… kept… talking.

“We’ll make the rounds,” Bernes said with that beard-cracking smile.

Of course, they would—Link rolled his inner eye at himself. The trainers didn’t have to spar with all the trainees at once. Of course, they didn’t. Everything didn’t have to happen instantaneously. Hylia, he was thick.

So, Link accepted the shield and training longsword offered to him—a little surprised they were going back to that, but sure, why not?—and joined Bernes on a particularly dusty patch of ground. The grass around them was so trampled and dust-coated it was more grey than green. Link spied a plum-sized stone sticking up more than enough to give someone a sprained ankle if they landed on it wrong. He pulled it out of the dirt quick and shoved it in his pocket.

Bernes made some kind of face at that—not a bad face, at least Link didn’t think so, but he’d been wrong before—then raised his weapon and came at Link without warning. The languid front-swing wasn’t a problem for Link. He parried it and followed through with a closing step, nocking his own crossguard in Bernes’ with a twist that forced him to release his grip.

“Got my sword already, huh, Link?”

Suddenly Link started sweating more. Was he being a show-off?

Bernes was smiling, though. “Let’s try another one.”

Bernes attacked. He swung low, high, middle, up, down, sideways, and every other kind of way and Link parried them all. Then Bernes started getting clever, countering Link’s parries, and Link countered back.

Soon, Link was smiling, too. This was much better than watching Jessrel suffer. It was better than sparring with his father, too (there was a lot less criticism and a lot less thinking—Link just let himself move naturally).

At one point, Bernes called a quick halt to take a swig from his canteen. “Need any?”

Link shook his head.

Then Bernes huffed and pointed at the rampart. Link turned to see a tall, robed man with a very thick, very white beard… and a crown.

The king was here.

The king’s eyes were on him.

Oh, s@#$, Link.

“Yeah. That’s what happens when you’re the royal guard captain’s son,” Bernes said, screwing the cap back on.

Link gulped and tried not to think about it. It’s not as though he’d been doing poorly.

When Bernes raised his sword again, Link was ready—and resolute. He would not show off. He would not show off. He would parry and counter, and disarm Bernes if the opportunity arose, but it hadn’t (Link figured that first lazy front-swing had been intentional on Bernes’ part). They simply went about their business, and Link didn’t really notice that a half hour had easily passed with no more halts called.

Bernes picked up the pace and Link kept up.

He picked it up again. No problem.

And again.

“Damn, kid,” Bernes panted.

A small, “Sorry,” escaped Link’s mouth before he even realized he was going to say it. He paled a little, and very nearly said ‘sorry’ again in order to apologize for the first ‘sorry,’ realizing just in time how inane that was and shutting his unwise, open mouth.

“Sorry?! Don’t be sorry. It’s a breath of fresh air. Let’s see what—oh. Hey.”

Bernes relaxed his stance and turned his head half-toward the rampart where the king was standing. He reached out without taking his eyes off something and backhanded Link’s shoulder, pointing up. “Look who’s looking at you, now.”

Link looked.

And a silent Sun-struck thunderclap rooted his feet to the ground.

Link couldn’t move. Not one millimeter in any direction. He couldn’t even breathe.

There was this woman—staring at him—looking right into his eyes—beaming at him like a shaft of sunlight through clouds, grinning so hard her cheeks made a heart-shape, her hair such a shining gold it might as well be made of strands of light itself. She had it pulled up into a super-messy Sheikah-style bun, and Link slowly noticed everything about her said she’d just been toiling hard—her rugged work clothes, the dirt and possibly grease staining them (and a diagonal smear of the same stuff right between her eyebrows), the many wisps of hair that had escaped their binding and fluttered about in the breeze, her sturdy gloves, her flush and heavy breaths (she seemed like she’d just been running), and the thing she was holding in her hand—maybe something like a book for notes.

Link looked harder and harder, trying to make sense of the nagging feeling he knew her from somewhere while also desperately trying to keep his composure.

He wanted to smile at her.

He wanted to reflect that beaming grin of hers right back at her.

He wanted to leap right up onto the rampart and ask what her name was and if maybe she liked paellas, because he liked paellas and he made a mean seafood one himself thanks to their cousin who moved to Lurelin a while back, and he would totally cook her the best paella he’d ever made and watch her eat it (that is as long as he could find good ingredients here, since you got different stuff out of the Hylia river than the ocean at Hateno Bay, and he needed to wait a minute and think because he really shouldn’t say, ‘watch you eat it’ because that would be weird, wouldn’t it? Yes it would, it would be weird, no one cooks dinner for someone and then just stares at them while they stick it in their face, that would be creepy, especially on a first date, and holy s#@% a date?! He’d never cared about dating anybody!! Why did he want to stuff this woman full of tasty seafood-and-veggie-rice?!)

More images started coming. Images of what they might do if she did indeed like Link’s paella. Part of him thought maybe he should be ashamed of himself (because it sounded to himself like he wanted to bribe her with tasties, but that really wasn’t true, he’d be ecstatic just for the excuse to ask her a thousand questions about herself while they eat), and part of him began to panic because he didn’t have his own kitchen or even his own room anymore, which meant he’d have to take her somewhere he could light a campfire and use a cookpot, which he knew from experience he could do and do well and in fact was the proper way to make paella (well, with a huge flat pan, but he was unlikely to find one of those fast enough)—but actually doing that might creep her out (‘strange guy making me leave civilization just to eat paella? Seems weird’)—but holy crap he wanted to meet her!

Link heard it, but just barely—the motion of air as Bernes’ sword swung at him. Link spun (he’d turned to squarely face the woman on the rampart) and tried to parry, but he was too late, and Bernes forced the tip of Link’s sword into the dirt.

“Couldn’t resist,” Bernes said. “You can look again. I won’t attack.”

Link wasted no time, his eyes seeking her of their own volition. It’s like he could feel her there! She was still smiling at him. He tried—he tried so hard—not to smile back, not yet, he couldn’t let himself look like a crush-smacked schoolkid. This time, he noticed the way her nails were just a little bit chipped, and in all the surface’s green fields, he’d never seen eyebrows with such a lovely arch, not that he’d ever cared about people’s eyebrows before, and maybe he’d never even bothered looking, so what he was comparing them to, he wasn’t sure.

And wow—holy Hylia—the way she kept looking at him—did she feel this, too?

“Hey. Kid. …Link?”

Link tore his eyes from his paella muse and blinked a little at the half-deflated smile on Bernes’ face.

What did that mean?

“You don’t know who she is, do you?”

Of course not. They hadn’t even met yet! He hadn’t gotten a chance to find out whether she’d talk to him, much less eat his unknown-river-fish paella! (He hadn’t found out what her hair smelled like yet, either, and that suddenly seemed high-priority).

“No,” Link said.

“Aw. Well. Kid. Look at her hair.”

“…It’s a Sheikah bun.”

“Yeah, not that part.”

Link had seen the braid, and it was pretty cool, set just above her hairline like a-

Oh no.

No.

Please, no.

It was set like a crown.

He’d heard about this. The Princess was famous for it—for forgoing gold and jewels in favor of a crown of braids.

All the heat that had entered Link’s face at the sight of her drained, leaving him cold, strangely frightened, and a lot less hungry. “She’s the Princess?”

“…Yeah.”

Suddenly, Link didn’t feel like pulling his next breath in. He tracked the dust clouds on the ground. It was always neat how those rose up and fluffed around when the ground was very dry and people’s boots smacked it a lot.

He knew he shouldn’t look again.

If his father heard about this, he’d be furious at him.

He heard his father's voice in his head already--he didn't even need to hear the actual words. He knew what he'd say.

It would be so arrogant of him to approach her.

So arrogant.

It was ridiculous, really. Link had never ogled anyone in his life. It figured it would be the Crown Princess. Why was she so dirty?

Link tried not to look again. He just breathed. He’d started to smell phantom-paella, and he had to at least try and get it to dissipate. The Princess of Hyrule already had the best cooks around for sure, right? She did not need him to make her anything. His very best would probably end up unpalatable by comparison.

“Sorry, Link,” Bernes said. He kept his voice mercifully down. “I… I mean, she’s pretty, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her hit someone like that before.”

“H-hit- no, no, there was no hitting-“

“I’ve been training recruits for almost a decade. I know what it looks like when beauty punches a man in the gut.”

Link had absolutely no idea what to say—especially since beauty wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all.

He didn’t need to look again to know she was beautiful beyond any doubt—the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. But that… hadn’t been what locked him in place.

What did lock him in place?

It hadn’t been how she looked—he hadn’t seen her, checked out her shape, and then been struck still. It was this feeling like nothing he’d ever felt before—something inside him.

If he felt free to talk, he’d say it was love, full-force-one-hundred-percent—but even he knew that was silly. He’d never even spoken to her. It just… seemed like the right word. It resonated in his deepest core.

Instantaneously smitten.

It… really wasn’t fair.

He just got here!

"Link?"

"Yeah?"

"There's no rule against you talking to her. You could find her once you're off."

Link blew a soft huff. "She... doesn't need me to waste her time."

Bernes wiped some beaded sweat from his forehead. “S$@%. I in no way meant to ruin your first day.”

Bernes was really nice, wasn’t he? “No, no… you… you didn’t ruin it.”

“Ehhhh, you say that, but it isn’t true.”

Link had no defense.

“Look, let’s head out of here for a few minutes. Ah- don’t worry about Greggan. He has eyes in the back of his head and they’re sharp as an islander hawk’s. I guarantee you he’ll know why we’re breaking off. Ten minutes, just to be in a different spot. Okay?”

Link nodded. He didn’t think he had words in him, anyway.

Link was supposed to be keeping quiet and learning how to not make a fool of himself at the castle.

He couldn't think of many better ways to look like a dumbass than to walk right up to the Princess and offer to make her paella.

Especially if she turned him down.

Which she would.

Of course she would!

Not a single Hateno girl had shown any interest in Link at all. Even Coraa hadn't, and she was interested in everyone.

The Princess of Hyrule had far, far more important things to do than indulge Link's fantasies, too, right?

She probably had a ton of guys who wanted to marry her already.

Granted, some of them were probably stink-faces who just wanted to be king, but some could be legitimately nice fancy people who actually knew things about politics and economics and stuff.

Link didn't know about those things.

He imagined how horrendous he would be at managing a negotiation table considering he was a total sucker. His sister pretty much always had to tell him when someone was lying to him. Link would end up giving away half the kingdom in crap-ass trade deals.

No. No, he wasn't going to go find her. He was an idiot. He did not belong on a throne. At best, he belonged next to the throne so he could make sure no one hurt her.

That, he would do.

No question.

...She'd been smiling.

He wished he knew why.

~~~~~‿ ‿~~~~~‿ ‿~~~~~

“Well. That young man seems to have to caught your eye, daughter.”

Zelda was too transfixed to argue—filled to overspilling with an inexplicable joy, a warmth at first she thought was the light of the Goddess herself when she’d sighted the sky-eyed (and clearly talented) new swordsman—and that warmth turning to utter saturation of all her senses when he laid his eyes on hers.

She entirely missed the mirth on her father’s face. He teased her so rarely—he did little other than push her toward more prayer and less of everything else, so she had no expectation of him meaning such words as anything but reproach.

She ignored him in favor of watching the young man be near-blindsided by his trainer’s blade, parrying very poorly at the last moment with a painfully-embarrassed grimace—he’d been caught red-handed it seemed. Zelda giggled without taking much notice of the sound herself (though her father did—his smile broadened).

When the young man's eyes alighted on her a second time, it was as though some tether had been stretched between them, and she felt its tension as a weight pulling her toward him. She wanted to run into the yard—to ask his name—to set a time to talk later if he agreed.

She knew she under no circumstances should do that. It would be highly irregular, and the gossip would be far ahead of whatever might actually occur between them (and she would also disrupt the training session). She would find some other time—perhaps she could frequent the hallway near the barracks. She’d very much like to find out what his voice sounded like. She could ask him about his bright blue earrings. Were they ceramic? Metal? Were they a family tradition? Did he purchase or make them out of his own sense of aesthetics? Did he intentionally match them and his hairband to his eye color?

Of course he did. Just looking at them made it evident—though he was young enough, it’s possible an older family member had done that part at some point and he simply wore them.

She rather hoped it was the former. It would be more interesting.

She found that hope in herself odd, for she never much cared for her own state of dress.

He looked away.

They hadn’t returned to sparring. They were talking.

The way he’d looked at her—like he’d been examining the soul within her body—he-

With a jolt, Zelda realized he hadn’t returned her smile.

Not even a little.

He’d been smiling while sparring.

He didn’t smile at her.

That glow of joy within her ebbed.

Could she have been mistaken? She’d thought—the intensity with which he’d gazed…

Perhaps… perhaps he had simply been trying to keep composure.

Or perhaps he’d looked only because his trainer pointed out her shameless staring, and his attention had nothing to do with any attraction he might feel toward her. Perhaps it was simply interesting to see the Princess and her foolish grin aimed at him.

They were leaving—about to enter the hallway toward the castle’s innards.

“H-he hasn’t looked at me again,” she said to the air.

If she’d been watching, she’d have seen her father’s face soften.

The young man and his trainer disappeared into the wall.

She wanted to hurry that way herself, but perhaps she needed to compose herself before further investigating this situation. The Sheikah slate was shaking in her arms despite her hugging it tight across her chest.

“Are you well, Zelda?”

“Yes, father. I- I ought to clean up.”

Zelda hurried toward her chambers without another word, and without glancing at the training yard.

A young trainee stuck his sandy-haired head back out from the doorway, his eyebrows drawn up and together, rather retriever-like as he searched the rampart—but he retreated quickly, eyes downturned on stone.

Later, Zelda scrubbed her skin with a ferocity she’d never employed—a self-cleansing to match her self-originated frustration. She had been such a sight. That blackish streak had run from the bridge of her nose to near the center of her forehead! She knew just when she’d given it to herself, too—they’d been digging around one of the guardians at the excavation site, she’d been sweating profusely, and she'd wiped carelessly at her own moisture with a grease-and-dirt-coated wrist.

Her clothing had been utterly filthy.

It was no wonder anyone might stare at her in such a state, truly.

Well, she wouldn’t allow that to happen again. She’d not parade herself—any man who wished her to behave so could find some vapid creature who better suited him—but she’d at least keep herself clean when she tried to bump into him. At least then she could be sure his eyes were on her, and not on her failures.

She’d grown so tired of that.

~~~~~‿ ‿~~~~~‿ ‿~~~~~

[Notes: Google doesn't think blindsighted is a word in the dictionary and definition sense, though there is at least one unrelated book of that title. 'Blindsight' is a real term for the ability to respond to visual stimuli unconsciously even if unable to consciously see the stimulus. That's pretty much what Link and Zelda do in this story--but this title also came about because they both get blindsided by each other, and Link gets blindsided by other people a few times, too, and Link in general is somewhat 'blindsighted' - he can see, but has trouble interpreting what he sees in regard to people/social situations.]

[Note: This fic is part of the Adventure Log+ AU which you can find on my fic masterlist. It's a prequel to Link's Thought Brambles.]

Here's my Zelink Week 2022 fic post list.

@zelinkweekofficial

#zelink week 2022 #sparring #botw #zelda #zelink #loz #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #fanfic #first sight #love at first sight #or is it the first sight #it's not really #adventure log+ au #prequel #botw link #botw zelda #king rhoam #original loz characters

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sunset-peril · 2 months

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Trial of the Zora Armor's original prequel tale, left unfinished for two years, is finally complete! For a time, I didn't think I was going to be able to finish the prequel, but here she is!

#fanfiction #booksivewritten #legend of zelda #zelink #breath of the wild #hyrule's final stand #my stuff #pre calamity #archive of our own #prequel to trial of the zora armor #trial of the zora armor #prequel #zelda x link #link x zelda #link botw #angst #angst with a happy ending

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yzafre · 3 months

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So apparently I'm invested in this, because my whole day disappeared. Here's today's work, continuing on from yesterday. With this I have 24 out of 45 parts complete.

I go back to work tomorrow, so I won't be able to keep up this pace, unfortunately.

#loz #botw #totk #WIP #yza animates a thing #using the non canon SS prequel comic for Hylia's design #for the sake of expediency #I'm learning a lot making this!

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lostwithoutyouherewriter · 1 year

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No Longer Alone: A Zelink Romance (Chapter 1 excerpt)

One year after defeating Calamity Ganon, Zelda has taken refuge in Hateno Village. She continues to research the wonders of Hyrule with her friend, the mischievous Purah, and she has even accepted Link’s generous offer to stay at his house. Despite living under the same roof, however, she has never felt so far apart from Link. She fears that any of the magic that once existed between them is now gone forever.

When a strange glow emanates from the Forgotten Temple, Zelda and Link must travel across Hyrule to investigate. They seek refuge in the many stables along the road, but at times, they are forced to pitch a tent and brave the wilderness. Will this journey through the heart of Hyrule bring the princess closer to her sworn knight, or will her stamina run low as she waits for Link to return her affections?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139699/

Spoiler Warning: This story takes place after Breath of the Wild and serves as a (theoretical) prelude to the upcoming sequel, Tears of the Kingdom. It also has an open ending that leads into the 2019 sequel trailer.

Sparks flew off the luminous stone, the wild, electric blue lights shimmering like ghosts in Purah’s goggles. The lights were so bright and mesmerizing. Zelda tried to adjust the focus on her own goggles as she leaned in for a closer look, twisting the copper knobs around her lenses.

“Check it!” said the little scientist, switching off her blowtorch and jumping about with excitement. Zelda tried not to laugh, even though the goggles did make Purah look like a happy little chameleon dancing in place.

The princess of Hyrule examined the stone, her eyes drifting up and down the jagged line Purah had carved with her blowtorch. “I’m afraid I don’t see anything, Purah,” she said.

“Not so close, princess!” cried Purah, climbing down from her step ladder and grabbing Zelda’s hand. She pulled the princess several paces away. “You keep those goggles on now, you hear? And wait for it...”

The luminous stone was inert, and the electric blue light faded away as they watched. Zelda furrowed her brow and looked down at Purah, who was twirling a strand of white hair with one little finger and smiling like an imp. The moment dragged on, and Zelda was about to ask for an explanation when the stone came to life.

The electric blue light rushed back to the surface of the stone, and as impossible as it would seem, it was so much brighter than before. Zelda shielded her eyes, although the goggles did offer the protection that Purah intended. The light did not stop once it reached the surface, however, and soon enough it exploded out of the black rock. Surprised by the reaction, she flinched and let go of Purah’s hand as aquamarine light shot towards the ceiling, twirling around in strange wisps of energy.

She heard the patter of little feet as Purah ran for the windows. The little scientist threw open the shutters, letting pure daylight pour into the dark and musty laboratory. Zelda gasped in horror as the blue-green wisps turned on her, but when she stepped aside to let the energy pass, it became clear that the wisps of light were only interested in escaping through the windows. Purah clapped her hands as the energy raced out of the window, disappearing into the skies above Hateno Village.

“Yaaaay! Be free and happy, my dears!” shouted the scientist, taking up her little dance once again.

Zelda rushed to the window, so glad she wore the customary garb of a scholar. She had worked long enough with Purah to expect a bit of excitement, and her fitted pants coupled with supple, leather boots allowed her to move freely should the occasion call for it. Her boots skidded to a stop alongside Purah. She leaned out of the window and watched as the strange wisps vanished into the clouds.

“What was that, Purah?” she asked, pulling back her long, blonde hair as she watched the skies in wonder.

“A better question may be who, princess. Who was that?”

The princess turned to face the scientist, who was grinning like the cat who swallowed all of the canaries. “Who? Do you mean to say that trail of light was—”

“Soul energy? I’m a top-tier researcher, your highness. I do not claim to know all there is to know about the wonder we just witnessed, but if the traditional folklore of this region is to be believed, the pale blue glow of the luminous stones are, in fact, the souls of the dead.”

Purah held up her hands and wiggled her tiny fingers, finishing off her sentence in a deep, mysterious tone of voice. Zelda stared at her friend in bewilderment, and Purah laughed.

“Never fear, my dear princess! I do not subscribe to such simple superstition and bedside stories. I do believe, however, there is always a kernel of truth in the old tales. And that is exactly what Robbie and I discovered when we began investigating the properties of luminous stone. Come, let’s take a closer look at the innards of this hunk of rock.”

Zelda stood next to Purah as the little scientist climbed up her ladder, grabbing the chisel and hammer from her tool belt. Purah drove the chisel into the black rock with a strength that seemed unnatural for her childlike body, and she delivered an equally surprising blow to the top of the chisel with a swing of her hammer. The rock crumbled into two asymmetric halves, and Zelda had to look twice to make sure her eyes were not playing tricks on her.

A good portion of the inside surface was plain and uninteresting, but running along the middle of the right half, there were glowing runes carved into the rock.

“Words. Purah, is that the Zonai language?”

“You have a good eye, princess,” said Purah, hooking the tools back onto her belt. “I haven’t studied the language as much as Robbie, but I may be able to translate a piece here and there.”

The scientist peered closely at the runes, whispering to herself as she conjured up the memory of her studies. “The first bit could say something along the lines of, How long must we wait? As for the last part, your guess is as good as mine.”

Zelda’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. “Then, the energy you released from the stone... It was sentient?”

“Yes, princess. Sentient, and trapped inside, the poor dears.”

This revelation was stirring a flurry of emotions inside Zelda. She crossed her arms and began pacing the length of the laboratory, pausing beside the open window in deep thought.

“Purah, how do we know that these energy beings are benign? What if there was a reason they were trapped?”

“Oh, please. They’re completely harmless,” said Purah, waving her hand dismissively as she turned her attention to a blueprint on her desk. “I released several of the wisps using safety measures and a controlled environment. Robbie can back me up. We monitored the energy of a dozen luminous stones before setting it free into the atmosphere. The wisps have no interest in the living body. They are creatures of air and electricity.”

Zelda bit her lower lip in concentration, gazing out at the cloudy skies above Hateno. She wanted to believe her friend, and Purah was certainly one of the most respected minds of Hyrule. However, the princess knew that the little scientist was also the type to charge ahead once she was inspired. The thrill of discovery often pushed great minds to walk along the edge of disaster.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. A bolt of lightning struck the eastern horizon. Zelda shivered as a cold wind blew through the lab. She removed her goggles and reached outside the window, closing the shutters against the coming storm.

“I should return to the village ahead of the rain, Purah. Perhaps we should continue this discussion tomorrow evening?”

The little scientist looked over at Zelda and smirked, letting one of her eyebrows waggle in a suggestive way. “Of course, princess. You wouldn’t want to keep Linky waiting.”

Zelda knew that her friend was only teasing, but she also couldn’t stop the blush that blossomed in her cheeks. “Now, it’s not like that at all. Link is a perfect gentleman, and he only offered me a place to stay until the Bolsons have rebuilt the castle.”

“Of course. I meant no disrespect, your highness. I’m sure Link respects your boundaries and there’s no funny business going on. Then again, I’ve also seen the way he looks at you.”

The princess carefully tucked the goggles away in their leather satchel, shaking her head in disbelief. “Every time he sees me, Link runs away. He’s always going off on his own, fighting monsters or wandering through the forest. He may have invited me to live with him, but I don’t think he can look at me without remembering the past and... and everything we lost. No, Purah, we are like distant strangers living under the same roof.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I’m sure Link wouldn’t object to you staying here. We could clear out some space in the tower.”

As Zelda reached for her midnight blue cloak, she pursed her lips and stared at the floor. “I’ll think about it. Thank you, Purah,” she said. “Please, don’t tell Link about this, at least not yet. I do appreciate his generosity and kindness, but it may be time to move on.”

“Mm, time changes all things. Take care, princess. We’ll dig a little deeper tomorrow and snap up some answers, shall we?”

The princess smiled as she wished her friend well, pulling up the hood of her cloak as she stepped out of the ancient tech lab. A light drizzle of rain was falling over the hills, and it wasn’t long before her leather boots were stained with mud as she walked down the path.

She paused next to one of the blue torches, looking down into the cute little village that had welcomed her after such a long ordeal. A warmth grew inside her as she thought of sweet, industrious Ivee sweeping the path to the East Wind General Store. She wondered if Prima was cooking a warm beef stew for her guests tonight, and she chuckled as she thought of the children running about and singing their little songs. She hoped they were all indoors now, warm beside their fires as they listened to the rain. As blue sparks fluttered in the rain like dancing moths, Zelda looked beyond the market square to a little house across the river.

And there he was, a lone traveler moving swiftly over a bridge. He wore a bow on his back and a sword at his side. He walked with the poise and confidence of a soldier, because that was what he was. He was her soldier, her very own sworn knight who was destined to banish the darkness. If only he would banish the emptiness inside her...

She watched Link cross the bridge, heading towards the forest below. He would most likely be hunting monsters into the late hours of evening. It was noble of him to serve the townsfolk, protecting them from the remnants of Ganon’s hordes so they could sleep better at night. Why, just the other night he had rescued two sisters who were being attacked by bokoblins during their truffle hunt. They wouldn’t stop singing his praises, those beautiful sisters. They were absolutely smitten with the Hero of Hyrule now.

Zelda sighed and made her way down the hill, knowing full well that an empty house and a lonely sleep awaited her at the end of the road.

Continue Reading No Longer Alone, A Zelink Romance, on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139699/

Warning: Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Depictions of Violence

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