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Quiet, steadfast, reliable–there were many things Time could call the smith. Stressed was not often one of them. News of a ball drew the heroes to Castle Town, urged on by Four’s grandfather. The dance was an ordinary affair; no cause to celebrate other than wanting to throw a party.
Since being welcome in that morning, Four had been remarkably twitchy. His usual reservation was matched with a twisted expression and ordinarily a careful observer, he was instead glancing at the corners of the room as he rocked up on the balls of his feet.
Twilight broke the loaded silence first. “You ain’t in trouble,” the rancher said with a warm laugh.
Four knit his brow. “I didn’t think–well it’s not like–” He paused, face furrowing in frustration. He nodded finally.
Four winced, but melted a touch as Twilight gently mussed his hair. The rancher left his hand atop the boy’s head, keeping Four’s focus on him. Time folded his arms, a slight smile on his face. Somehow it was always astounding how good his pup was with children.
“You been worr’ing ‘bout som’thing,” Twilight prodded.
Four chewed at his lip. He nodded, eyes cast down, fingers pulling at the hem of his tunic, rubbing over the embroidered corner.
“It’s–there’s a ball,” Four said.
“You nervous ‘bout all the people?”
Four shook his head. “Zelda–Dot–Princess Zot–” Four grimaced, tipping his head one way with a sharp inhale.
Twilight hummed softly, drawing his hand back. As he spoke, he signed his words with more punctuality than he typically did when talking with Wild.
“Here, we can talk like this if you like,” Twilight suggested.
Four nodded, raising his own hands. <I want to dance with Zelda> Four explained.
Sky drew back, covering a mirthful smile behind his hand. Time tipped his head with a warm chuckle. Four’s face darkened in a blush, the smith scowling at the two of them. Twilight met Four on his level, taking the smith’s concern as seriously as Four.
“You worry ‘bout asking her?” Twilight guessed.
Four shrugged. <Yes and also> He cut himself off, his blush spreading into his ears. He looked away from Twilight, shuffling back a half step. <Her hand> Four added. <I’ll have to> He shook out his hands, a soft whine leaving him. <I have to hold her hand.>
Sometimes Time found it was easy to forget how young some of his companions really were. Four was responsible, on task nearly always, one of the few he trusted to be alone for more than five minutes. He was a good boy, usually acting older than his age. But here, he looked just 15, plucked from the throes of adolescence and all its awkward charm.
Twilight smiled. “Yeah,” he agreed. “S’pretty daunting.”
“Daunting,” Time chimed in. “I didn’t know you knew words that big”.
Twilight glanced up at Time, a mischievous smile on his face. “Well I been readin’ you’s mushy-gushy letters home. Think I seen that word in a poetry you done write to Miss Malon. Cap’n help you with that one?”
Time rolled his eyes, placing a fist against his sternum and straightening his posture. “I’ll have you know I’m quite the bard when it pleases me.”
Sky grinned. “Maybe I’ll hold you to that,” the chosen hero laughed. “You might have to perform for us.”
Twilight moved his attention back to Four. The smith’s nerves were buzzing again and the boy looked as if he were piecing together a daring escape through the window. Twilight knocked Four in the chest playfully.
“Don’t worry smithy,” he said, “we gone make sure you get to hold both ’a Dot’s hands.”
Four glanced up, uncertainty in his gaze. He only nodded after a moment, hesitating before he lifted his hands. <Don’t tell Warriors> he signed. <Or Legend.>
The other three returned sage nods of agreement. Four was slightly relieved at their easy acceptance of his anxiety. When all three had cornered him–well Time had because the man was bizarrely inept when it came to basic social skills–Four worried they were going to scold him for being so flighty all day. Instead, he was glad it was them of all the heroes. All three could keep a secret, all three had their own partners. If Four were to go to anyone for advice, it would’ve been Twilight, Time, and Sky in that order.
“Man,” Twilight sighed humorously, “cap’n’d be insuff’rable if he knew.” The rancher stood upright, straightening his sash. “Don’t worry, li’l brother, we gone get you a dance ‘n maybe a li’l kiss on the cheek to for you’s trouble.”
Four’s face went scarlet at the thought.
Sky nodded eagerly. “I can’t really help with the dancing part, but I can help with the always being nervous about holding hands part.”
Time smiled warmly, a softness in his eye. “I can help with the dancing part.”
<Thank you> Four signed, relief on his face.
Dot always made him nervous. She was, in his mind, the prettiest girl to ever live ever in all of time since the very beginning. Her sweet smile, those hazel eyes, the dash of freckles across her nose and shoulders. A pretty knot of thick braids drew Dot’s tight coils of hair back, ribbons and flowers woven into the twists. Fixed into the updo was a charming hair comb of silver and opals. The princess wore a blush pink ball gown, sleeveless with pleated bodice between a laced corset and a full skirt. White gloves reached just past her elbows, a delicate gold tiara with aquamarine sapphires set into a petal design rested in her hair. From her right shoulder to left hip, she wore a pretty embroidered sash fixed to her shoulder with one of her late mother’s brooches. Princess Zelda .
Four thought Dot looked remarkably pretty in anything whether it be her kirtle or trousers and suspenders. Seeing her in all her regalia only stopped his heart for a moment, his brain seeming to simply retreat rather than take in the sight.
Twilight and Sky nudged the smith forward. He looked up at them, brow pulled in worry. They both reassured him with smiles, a thumbs up and an OK sign. Four steeled himself, forcing himself out onto the dance floor.
Dot danced with another boy, their palms and forearms raised together between them, the two gliding in a gentle circle with the swells of music. Four drummed his fingers against his thigh, almost glowering at the other boy. Dot’s eyes met the smith’s. He forgot his rash of childish jealousy, entirely overwhelmed by the princess’ warm expression. A goofy smile worked its way onto Four’s face.
The song ended, Dot bowed to the noble boy. Hands clasped in front of her, she strode to meet Four. The smith bowed in greeting, Dot excusing him with a raise of her palm.
“Link,” Dot said warmly. “I thought you’d run away.”
Four shook his head quickly. “No I–I wouldn’t–I wouldn’t run from–not from you.”
Dot giggled. Four’s face burst into warmth at the sound.
“I’m glad,” she said. “I haven’t seen you all evening. I was afraid Father chased you off.”
Four shook his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Um Zelda–your highness–Princess, can–” Four tipped his head, swallowing his words with a pinch of his eyes. Dot was one of the few people who stayed patient with him as he found his words and meted them out. “I still like you,” Four said, a little louder than he intended.
Dot smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. “I still like you too,” she reassured him.
Four remembered that evening in the garden. He was so lovesick it hurt and when he heard Dot had an offer for courtship, he found himself sneaking onto the castle grounds and summoning her at her balcony. The smith in his dirty work clothes, Dot in her nightdress and robe. He’d taken her hands, knelt on one knee, and confessed his love for his best friend. And she’d returned his feelings.
But it wasn’t enough . There was so much more admiration in his heart, such a wealth of respect words like I like you could never convey. And every time he looked at Dot he grew bashful and shy and she would tease him for it with nothing but a knowing look. One day , he’d be bold enough to ask her father for a blessing to court the princess. But first, he would make a masterful piece of jewelry, a dowry to give over for himself for the chance to take Dot’s hands in his forever despite his place in the peasantry.
“Is this your way of asking for a dance?” the princess asked.
Four nodded, unable to speak through his bashfulness.
“Offer your hand,” Dot giggled.
The smith did–one shaky hand extended out to the princess. He felt so unworthy in his borrowed fineries, a peasant . Dot never saw him for that though, he knew, and she didn’t see him just for his heroics. She saw Link. She liked Link.
Dot settled a gloved hand in his. Four drew it to his lips, brushing a polite kiss on the princess’ ring. With that, he raised his head, heart pounding in his chest, and took Dot into the next dance.