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Toss the amoranth into the pan with a pinch of sugar-
Nah.
Sprinkle monster spice into the chilli and stir until it bubbles blue…
Interesting, but not for today. Erm-
Take a rare drumstick, a glob of voltfruit juice-
“...What sort of measurement is a glob?”
“Oh, honey,” Lips curled, “Maybe you are too young to reading that.”
Link flopped into the grass, shielded his eyes from the morning sun, and sighed, loudly.
Bolson tutted, Karson elbowed them.
This was a bad idea.
Link was many things, and it seemed every day since reawakening he discovered he was something more. The Brushstrokes of Link had compiled, slowly, until now - fifteen months later- he’d happily label himself as a colourful almost-person.
On day one, he learned his name. By day three, he knew Hero meant something important. By day five, he knew he could take out bokoblins faster by whacking them in the goonies.
Thirteen months later, Link discovered Princess Zelda’s hugs were brilliant.
Thirteen months and forty seconds later, he realised he fancied the literal sunshine out of her.
Thirteen months and forty-five seconds later, he realised he had no idea how one fancies a whole person.
Fifteen months and four days later, Link understood he had the romantic capacity of a high tailed lizard.
He’d been living with Zelda for nine weeks, and despite the flower crowns, food fights and slow joke grins… He had no idea how to express his antique heart. He was a disaster of the spoken word; just the sight of her smiley dimples lacerated his tongue.
But today was a special day. The first day of spring marked the celebration of Blupee Ribbons in Hyrule.
The story went like this.
Once upon a time, some many millennia ago, a young man rescued a blupee from a hoard of Zonai hunters by hiding them within the Spring of Courage. In thanks, the blupee revealed itself to be a kami from Hylia. They told the young man he was destined to cherish the heart of Hylia’s mortal descendant, for only a man who protects Hylia’s creatures can be worthy of the one who created them. They gifted the man a ribbon that would glow the day the Goddess looked upon him with mortal eyes. When he found her, she and the ribbon glowed brighter than the blupee ever could.
The story was weird, because since when could blupees talk? All they did was glow and poop currency. It wasn’t even clear if the man in the tale was a Hero or not. To the people, though, this anonymity meant all could be worthy of immortal love should they prove themself to lovers with acts of kindness to nature.
Hylians tied coloured ribbons to wrists to indicate relationship status whilst flower offerings were planted in rupee pots on every corner. Sheikah lay offerings of luminous rocks painted with blupees in the hopes it would lead the creature to gift them with a ribbon. In Gerudo, a week-long dance of ribbons was held for they believed physical expressions of intimacy were Hyrule’s bravest natural act of love. Two nights ago, Zelda had quirked an eyebrow and said you’ll see a lot of tits. He wondered if the Rito or Gorons celebrated too.
Despite cultural differences, some traditions remained constant.
Those wedded would re-visit their vows. Children would be left with village elders or trusted protectors for the night. Grand parties were held where everyone regardless of species, gender, or sexual identity celebrated love divine. Ribbons streamed from doorways, horse saddles, and market carts.
The Calamity had proven that love could be stolen in a day. It was worth treasuring.
Last night, Link and Zelda had been ambushed by villagers in Hateno. Though neither had announced who they were outside their closest circles, curiosity had grown after Master Impa had sent out proclamations that Calamity was vanquished. Anonymity was declining fast. Zelda spoke in turns of phrases not heard in generations. Link refused to carry a weapon other than the Master Sword now Zelda was by his side again.
They’d been pestered to buy ribbons of their own. As they’d both awkwardly claimed the bands for single residents, Amira had whispered we sing about them kissing in stable songs and yet they still play pious, it’s almost rude! and their village gossips had snickered.
Not that it was their business, but Link and Zelda were just friends.
Sometimes they slept in the same bed when the nightmares were bad, but whatever. Who cared if he’d woken up with Zelda snuggled on his chest once and thought about it every day? Who cared if on the first week when she’d been too weak Link had bathed her with his bare hands and she’d leaned into his shoulder and whispered I missed you.
Link did love Zelda, yes, but just as a best friend.
People had lovers but Link had his person.
So, he was going to make her a fancy dinner.
It was safe. Chivalrous. Something he might have done as Knight Attendant.
Link loved cooking; He was a good cook - despite what Purah said to the contrary - but he never considered what he did. He saw ingredients and his hands just made stuff.
Muscle memory was a strange thing.
He needed to expand his skillset; cooking for a Princess demanded a high calibre of finesse, and Link didn’t have that. He’d ridden a bear in his pants just because. One time he got outed in Gerudo Town after lifting his veil for a slice of hydromelon- a rookie error! Once he shattered five shields in a day attempting to do a flip.
“Oh, don’t pout, cherub cheeks,” Bolson cooed, “You’ve overthinking it. Last year I made roast supreme for Karson and he loved it-”
“Yeah!” Karson agreed, “Oh, what page is it on… Aha!”
The book was shoved on his chest. Link grunted, hoisting upright, blinking at the illustrations. It took a moment but - oh -
“Why are the sausage and mushroom arranged to look like a-”
“It’s an aphrodisiac, Link.”
“A what?”
Bolson and Karson shared a look.
“Oh,” Pouted Bolson, “Young hero of Hyrule, if you don’t know what an aphrodisiac is you better not look in chapter six-”
“Or chapter nine,” Karson added.
Their look intensified.
Hylia.
“Okaaaay,” Link pushed to his feet-
“Nooo, baby!” “We’ll be good!” “I’ll build you a fireplace!” “Where are you going?”
“Away from you and your…” Hands waved, “Willy shaped dinners!”
Bolson cackled, “Link, what would you have done if Calamity Ganon had a giant co- Ow!”
Karson had swatted their thigh, “Are you going to see the bees?”
“Of course, he’s going to see the bees!” Shot Bolson, dramatically rubbing the spot, “She’s always with the bees!”
Link glared.
Bolson said nothing. It said everything.
“Look,” Karson laughed, placating with calloused hands, “We just want you to be happy. We’ve watched you gawp at her like a lovesick puppy for months! Time to pop out the cupid arrows! Do we have to come after you like cuccos for pussyfooting around your dorky love for another century?”
Toes wriggled, “It’s just dinner.”
“What flowers does she pollinate with?”
Goddesses, he wished they could sign. His tongue was tight, “Lilibet flowers.”
“Oooft! She’s so sweet!” Bolson grinned, “If that doesn’t set your stinger a-buzzing-”
“Don’t bees die after they have-”
“Shh!” Exasperated, Bolson stood and took Link by the shoulder, “...You’ve waited a century for peace. You deserve a break, a whole lotta honey, and a decent sha-”
“I!” Link leapt firmly away from that, “Am going to the bees. I’ll ask her what she wants for dinner, alright? I’ll just ask.”
Bolson entwined his thumbs and flapped his fingers.
“Buzz buzz buzz, baby!”
So… The bees.
In fairy stories, Princesses occupied themselves with pretty things: tea and cake, strolls along promenades, and wishing wells. So proper and delightful were the lives of Hyrule’s Royalty.
Not Princess Zelda Bospheramus Hyrule.
No, she was a creature all her own. Zelda liked growing carnivorous plants, outsmarting balding men, and handling venomous bugs with her bare hands.
It had started the very day they’d slaughtered the Calamity. A redemption arc gone wrong. After Pigblight Ganon had fallen and she’d asked if he remembered her, he’d attempted to run into her arms as a magnificent hero should.
He’d decked it. Right there. In the mud.
She’d giggled at the sight, then gasped at the sheer wonder of being able to giggle.
It was the exact moment he realised he adored her.
Their brilliant hug had been a muddy one.
When they’d found shelter, chasing that sacred redemption, he’d insisted on feeding her. Vaguely recalling her sweet tooth, he’d spotted a beehive, reached for his arrow, readied it and-
And Zelda stopped him.
She was gobsmacked. Bees were special, she said, Hyrule’s secret armada.
Link… Didn’t like bees. At all. They made his skin crawl. Guardians he could deal with. Bees? Set a lynel on their hives! Obtaining honey in the wild he’d done everything to remain unscathed from hitting a hive with stasis, shooting it with an arrow and cantering in the other direction to launching them with bomb runes and picking shredded honeycomb from the grass.
Thirteen days after saving the world, Zelda asked if she could keep bees at the house. She’d listed a bazillion reasons from research to because their buzzes make me happy-
Those first days had been incredibly hard. As her body had acclimatised, she’d battled everything from refacing grief to a horrendous period to struggling to hold a quill again.
Of course, Link built her a hive.
The day she’d located a wild hive in the right conditions for moving, he’d offered her a full set of armour, and she hadn’t needed a thing.
He’d never forget the adoration on her face as the bees found refuge on her hands, on her hair, on her cheeks. He’d never forget how his heart pounded with far more than fear.
“Hello, friend,” Zelda said to the queen as she stored it for transportation, “How good it is to see another monarch after such a long time. I’d like to take you to your new castle.”
Link despised Zelda’s bees, but he would defend them with his life.
Anything for that smile.
The buzzing proceeded her, as if often did.
The bees lived on a small patch of land adjacent to the shrine they considered part of their home. Small hebra drop flowers peaked amongst budding buttercup tulips on the grass. The spring would be a beautiful one.
He stole himself, repeated a mantra of courage, rolled the sword on his back and-
“Oh, hello.”
…Goddesses.
Zelda was crouched by the hive kissed by morning sun. Pale arms had lifted a sheet of honeycomb out for analysis. She looked both homely and adventurous in climbing leggings and a white village top; one thing she hadn’t worn since returning was a skirt. Long golden hair was tied back, little wisps escaping like tabantha wheat. The lingering winter chill had touched her cheeks rose.
Feet stopped, firmly distanced.
“I heard laughter,” Zelda smirked, “Was Bolson giving you a hard time about tonight?”
Link gave a look.
“Knew it,” She laughed, gently sliding the sheet of honeycomb back. She licked her fingertip.
“What, er-” He said, not distracted at all by that, “Have you thought about what you’d like for dinner?”
“All your cooking is good.”
Link didn’t want it to be good. He wanted it to be special. He wanted- No. Ya-ha-ha! Slow down.
He scratched his neck, “I want to try something new.”
“Your cooking knowledge is hardly basic-”
“Yeah, but you used to eat Castle food.” He said, swatting - ew! - a bee, “It’s legendary.”
Zelda… Paused.
Drat. Toes wriggled. …He shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t used to her home being a part of legend.
Sometimes, he thought it would be easier if they were withered and wrinkled.
She tilted back to the bees, hair catching so bright he wondered if she experienced photosynthesis, “I often think bees act like an orchestra, where every part is integral, you know? Without a conductor - a Queen - to guide them? Well, the timbre would be so dreadful there would be no honey at all.”
Link didn’t understand orchestras either. They were a thing of the past.
“No matter what time or life you and I exist in, bees are a constant. Their ability to live peacefully is breathtaking in a world where we are plagued by demise. They just… Survive, building skyscrapers in the shame of rhombic dodecahedron honeycomb, their royal lineages sustained again and again. Only the flavour of their honey changes as fauna evolves.” Lacklustre eyes softened, “Maybe our clothes are eaten by moths and the castle food lost to the masses but the bees remain… I’m happy they’re still here.”
The wind blew.
Green eyes lingered, whispering a thousand things he couldn’t remember. There was something there, something yearning to be understood and yet… Memory’s grasp was fickle.
Link swallowed.
“Can you come closer?”
Link froze.
“Pretty please?”
Hands raised, ever grateful she understood sign, ‘I’d rather face a lynel stampede.’
“But the bees are such a valuable part of our ecosystem!”
‘I guard five paces behind.’
“It was only three places with me-”
“You’re not a bee.” You’re way cuter.
“Oh!” She gasped, spinning with a swish of ponytail, “I have a present for you!”
She crouched, reaching and oh… Was that-
“Ta-da!” She trotted over, extending a bottle of liquid gold with her ribboned hand, “It’s taken a while as I don’t have a proper centrifuge yet, but… here! It’s so sweet. The lilibet flowers make it taste floral. Maybe when I can reestablish international trade we can get Labrynnian plants pollinated by the bees here. I’m still devastated the calamity killed off the luminous dahlias!”
Link… Blinked, signing thank you-
“Rightio!” She smiled, “Sorry to be a - ha! - buzzkill, but I need to take these samples to Purah.”
She waggled two tubes at him that he hadn’t seen before.
“You don’t mind, do you? You can prepare our dinner.” Lips curled fondly, “Or go bomb a hinox or something. I’ll be back before sundown.”
“Zelda-”
She spun, pinning him with gentle mirth, “Don’t overthink dinner. I’d eat a plethora of dubious food gladly as long as I have your company, alright? No Knightly surprises.”
Apparently, Knightly Surprises had been a favourite pastime of hers a century ago. He’d fetched her guardian parts after her father banned them. He snuck into her room for gossip sessions bearing cake on her bad days. He wondered if he’d ever gotten close to that bar in this life-
“Don’t follow me,” She grinned, “And I mean that kindly.”
With another swoosh of gold hair, she was off.
Link went to call for-
“And don’t bomb the bees whilst I’m gone!”
He grinned into the grass.
The bees chorused, mourning her absence.
Honestly? Relatable.
Gently, he tilted the jar in his hand. Maybe… Maybe he could make something with this?
The honey was in a simple jar, with a simple lid.
A little label had been stuck to it.
Zelda’s Honey.
An eyebrow twitched.
Zel… Zelda’s hon…
Bzzzzzzz-
In a breath, consciousness was swept into a vacuum. Sound became water and colours became stars, spinning, a reckless kaleidoscope luring, luring, luring-
Open your eyes.
Before
“Link, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t drag your feet. Discretion is essential.”
Trying not to break my neck is also essential, Link thought.
Together, Knight and Princess ventured into darkness.
Over the past year as Knight Attendant, Link had learned the hard way that Hyrule’s Princess was a whirlwind. Every day a new rapid idea would grip her so totally Link struggled to keep up, often because those ideas ended up with her trying to flee his side. She tested him. Challenged him. Focussed him. There was nothing like literal panic to keep you attending as you should. Some of her escapades were even invigorating. Despite her ardent hate of him, the glow of her star fragment hair or inspired curl of her lips energised his purpose and duty.
Which was why now he willingly followed her into almost certain doom.
Hylia forbid the King find out.
Nine days ago, Princess Zelda had nearly died at the hands of the Yiga. Nine days ago, Link had killed his first man without a thought. Nine days ago, thinking he was alone, Link had broken down into panic crying this is not me this is not me this is not me...
Nine days ago, arms had engulfed his shaking frame, dropped the sword from his back and promised it was okay to be scared because she was frightened too.
Nine days of awkward looks and death mountain titular small talk later, Link had been ambushed at his nightly post by Princess Zelda in her nightdress, demanding he accompany her through a secret mission of dire importance.
Before tonight, he’d thought twisting bookshelves only existed in mystery books.
At least he was learning of her escape routes. The guards should have known. It was a huge safety breach-
Stone walls led down, then up, then down-
And, Goddesses, she looked cerebral like this. Her crescent in his shadow became his lantern. Her chest, rising and falling, became the tempo his feet replicated.
He could get quite used to exploring the dark with Princess Zelda.
Perhaps there were ghosts down here, cheering him on-
“Here we are!”
There was a door.
…And there was noise; A rumble like the colosseum heard from the Temple of Time on tournament days. A distant clamour of darners.
“I have a surprise for you,” She grinned, and pushed-
Link tripped one- ohmygods- two, three paces back!
Bees?!
Bees everywhere!
Link stared. And stared. And slammed his mouth close fast lest he inhale a flipping-
“So!” She spun, lilac fabric spinning by her knees, “What do you think?”
Link thought her eccentricity had spiralled into madness.
There were man-made hives everywhere. Surrounding them was field after field of goron potatoes, apple trees, Hyrule Herb-
This was Lon Lon Farm. The door they’d come from was designed to look like an outhouse.
“Wh-” He tried, failing. He rarely spoke. Words were hard, “Why am I…”
“I wanted to show you my secret plan to save Hyrule, now our secret plan.”
Perhaps she was Demise in disguise.
“How long have you…”
“Owned bees?” Eyebrows flicked, “Technically, they aren’t mine-”
“You’re trespassing?”
“Technically we’re trespassing, but as Hylia incarnate I kind of created and henceforth own everything. So.”
An index finger tapped her temple, twice.
The Princess never pulled the Hylia incarnate card unless she was up to something truly devilish. It was foolhardy for she believed the Goddess hated her. Gods, she was going to get him fired-
The Princess lifted the roof off a beehive and reached in-
“Hnnng! Y-Your Highness, I must insist- I-!”
“Oh, hello, dears!” She cooed - cooed! - “ It’s been a while. I’ve missed you,” Golden hair swivelled, “Come say hello.”
Link did not. Even heroes had limits.
“You know,” The Princess lifted her bug-ridden palm in inquiry, “If Hyrule congregated as the hives did, we’d never be forced to fight.”
Words hovered, but they were squandered by moonlight. There was something sacred about watching a queen amongst bees.
“Look around us, Link… All of these vegetables, flowers and fauna have been blessed by the bee. They generate the lifeblood of Hyrule, one not bound by poetic prophecies and superfluous metaphors. The bee wields no swords nor sealing power, and yet they thrive.”
A breeze blew.
“The bee spends its days dipping its toes in every fauna and turning it into gold. They make this power… This honey that heals and supports and brings joy.” A laugh broke, distant, sad, “Imagine if I could save Hyrule by walking on flower petals instead of freezing in ancient springs?”
Link wished it could be that way. Their fates were not kind.
“...The Yiga have made a fatal flaw,” Jade eyes traced him, levied in an ancient weight, “The Yiga stole my mother. They almost stole me. They want to steal you… But if they do not steal the bees? Then their plans are futile.”
Images flared of scimitars, the sound of dust being knocked by terrified feet, the squish of silver in fle-
“Link… I know this isn’t the life neither you nor I asked for.” Gently, she eased the honeycomb sheet back into the hive, “But I need you to know that I trust the bees. If the Calamity eats our promised glory and we get hurt… The bees will guide Hyrule until we can live again. Their pollination will feed the people. Their propolis will treat the sick. Their jelly will assist the old. And if I have my way, I’ll send a militia of displaced hives upon the Yiga.”
A laugh broke. The Princess laughed too. Grass and honey.
“If we… Succeed,” Link managed, “Can I make you a dinner of honey? And other bee stuff?”
“You’ll face the bees?”
“I’ll face the bees.”
An eyebrow cocked, and a natural smile broke free. They were his favourite.
”...May your courage fare well in the battle of bugs. I look forward to it.”
“Princess… May I, may I be honest with-”
After
Beeswax candles? Check.
Boots cleaned with bee polish? Check.
Jars of honey on the table? Check.
Okay…. Cool.
Link walked in a circle, and he walked in one again. Ancient boots thumped heavily. His helmet-
Oh, bugger, his helmet!
Fingers scrambled for the buckle- Hylia, why did these gargantuan things have such finicky joints? Um- erm-
“Helloooo! I’m ba- oh! Link?”
Feet spun.
The ancient helmet fell on the floor. It rolled to Zelda’s feet. Link hadn’t known it could roll.
In the distance, the sound of music and laughter of the busy streets sung in the quiet country air. The songs were modern ones their antique ears hadn’t heard before.
It had been a long, wonderful, day.
He blew hair from his eyes, smiling somewhat like a stretched cactus. His capability to be smooth had legged it to Hebra some six lifetimes ago.
Curious eyes slipped from him to the table, to the sides and the windowsill all covered in candles. A palm opened on her chest like a starfish.
“Link, what did you do? You look like you’ve fended off a lynel camp!”
He blew a tuft of hair from his eyes.
“I faced the bees.”
She took three paces forward and swiped his chin with her thumb. Jade eyes narrowed like she was scrutinising an academic journal and he was the foreword.
“You’re sticky!”
“I faced,” He repeated, deadly serious, “The bees.”
His jaw rippled under the gentle press of her fingertips. She wasn’t getting it. Why wasn’t she-
She tilted his head, and gasped-
Ah.
“...I wore my ancient armour yet the blights still stung me,” He admitted, with a breathless laugh, rubbing his neck, “I put propolis on it. Hurts like a claymore, though.”
“Link…”
Does she remember yet? Is she hiding it? Come on. Come on-
He strode to the table, armour clinking with every step.
“So,” Hands raised, ‘We have beeswax candles. I made a pit stop into Robbies’ with the slate and the man had a whole collection! If you look below I scorched the mat to look like a honeycomb.’
Zelda looked down and back, stunned-
“I’m a clever pyromaniac.” He shot, grinning. Gestures gradually gave way to spoken word, faster and faster, “Aaaand for dinner we have cuisine fit for a bee. I borrowed one of your books- Everything I am about to serve comes from stuff bees pollinate. The wildberries, apples- I even got a papaya from Holodrum and I have no idea how the folk from Lurelin managed to get- and uh…”
“...Is that a voltfin trout?”
“It’s glazed with your hives’ honey.”
“Link…” She trailed off, tracing him like he was topaz.
“Mm?”
“Do you,” She swallowed, hands fidgeting…
She trailed off. She never trailed off.
Link smiled.
Open your eyes, Zelda.
He knew the question in her silence. It buzzed like a bee.
Did he remember how they kissed in a field of bees? Remember how they continued to kiss in secret places after that? Did he remember how she called him bumble when no one was listening?
…Today had been wild.
“Yeah,” He said, “I remember.”
“Gods. Okay. Er,” She ran her hands over her cheeks, “...Good.”
Conversation nosedived. Link… stared. Why was his chest caught in a hinox grip? Why was her gaze perplexed instead of joyous? Had he not remembered enough? Had he done something wr-
Mmmpft!
She kissed him.
She- ohmygods- actually kissed him!
He’d never known a queen bee’s sting could be so sweet.
For a breath, neither moved.
And then Link rolled in relief, embracing Zelda like she was the wild he adored. Their lips broke as he sagged with a noise of joy, burying his head into her neck less she ever disappear again. Fingers trembled on her back. The ghost of a century ago was so happy. A hundred years! Never again. Never-
“I’m sorry I forgot us Zelda I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”
Words swept with the wind when fingertips came upon his cheek, shivering when her thumb traced his cheekbone.
“Hey… It’s okay, I promise.”
“Why didn’t y-” Words caught.
Zelda kissed his hair like a flower, “...I hoped you’d fall for me as the man you are now. I didn’t want to trap you- to trap us together-”
“Hylia did that millennia ago.”
He felt Zelda snort, “That’s not funny.”
He hummed in defence.
“C’mere,” Zelda said, gently easing his head upright. She scanned every tiny scar, every freckle, every eyelash-
“Sorry I didn’t ask before,” She smiled, “Can I kiss you again?”
“Y-Yeah. Please.”
Like he was ever going to say no.
There was a lot of awkward fumbling; A lot of where do I put my hands and do I look weird whilst I’m doing this… And it was wonderful. Everything in his hollow chest; the loss, the grief, the amnesia were all built upon by pretty hexagons. Gods, he’d missed her! He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed her!
Bang!
“Ah-”
Link leapt like a bokoblin.
Zelda was against the table. Golden hair was tousled. The plait on her head was not quite even anymore. Her lips were flush.
They stared at one another, hard.
Then Zelda threw her head back and laughed.
…Okay?
“By the three!” She looked at him and laughed harder.
“Zelda-”
Her ribboned hand lifted, fingers spread like a blooming flower.
Oh… Oh.
Her hand had gone in the honey jar.
He crumbled into laughter.
They shook, they cackled, they snorted and laughed harder and Gods, it was everything. It was a miracle Death Mountain didn’t shake.
They were still giggling when Link climbed back in between her legs, nudging their noses together, smiling like an idiot- “Zelda, I- ahh-”
Zelda dabbed honey on his nose. She kissed it.
Link pinned her, then, holding her sticky hand despite her protests. He smeared some on her cheek. And kissed it.
Sand met topaz as foreheads met, “Is it bad I don’t care about this fancy dinner anymore?”
“Big words from a glutton.”
“Zelda, did-” He swallowed, mesmerised by how long her eyelashes were up close, “Did we ever…”
“No… Unfortunately.”
“...Would you, er- like to?”
“Bold, Mr Hero.”
She’d heard the koroks call him that.
“I missed you,” He reasoned, kissing her cheek again, “I missed you so much. I won’t expect you to obviously there’s no pressure and even if you don’t ever want to that’s fine but um-“
“Shh,” He felt the vibration of a hum run through her. Her dry hand traced up the length of his shirt until she cradled his jaw, and whispered, “After dinner.”
It was a foolish hope.
In the end they’d only made it halfway through starters before they’d scrambled upstairs with socks and armour and silly singles bands thrown every step. It was a hurried affair, full of nervous giggles, a lot of asking for consent and questions and probably over far too quickly, but… But it was perfect.
Sated, half-dressed, and feeling a century younger, they finally sat down to their fancy dinner.
“We’ll have to send Bolson a thank you bouquet,” Zelda grinned, adjusting his tunic over her shoulders.
As Link poured her voltfruit wine clad only in boxers, he couldn’t contain his silly grin.
“Hmm,” He pondered, dipping to kiss her head because he could, “Why not give them honey? I could build another hive. We could train the bees to chase lynels or something.”
Zelda’s smirk was feral, “It’s on.”
Maybe he had been the young man in the ancient story after all.
They raised a glass, and toasted to the bees.