Prior Engagements

by Fyreflare

Summary:

Princess Zelda's hand is pledged to an unknown suitor: the legendary hero who will wield the Sword that Seals the Darkness. Too bad she's fallen head over heels for an anomaly of a knight - who happens to be engaged to Princess Mipha.

Surely that won't complicate matters at all.

Notes:

Hello everyone! As you may have noticed, I am starting a new longfic. I've been really excited to share this one with all of you (especially the rabid AoC fans in the discord server)! I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Tower, the Knight, the Egg

Echoes of her footsteps surrounded her in the silence of the empty corridor. Every sword in Hyrule spilled monster blood at her father's orders. She could only watch the battle from her upper window for so long; her stomach curdled with every splash of red.

Hylian soldiers, hundreds of men and women in her father's army, were all prepared to give their lives in the defense of Hyrule. But, in the end, what was any of it for if she couldn't unlock the one weapon that they actually needed?

Zelda flexed her hand, staring at the creases in her palm. She once imagined that she saw a spark of light, some indication of her progress, any progress over these fourteen miserable years. She let her hand fall to her side again, letting out a slow breath through her nose. It did her no good to dwell on the certain death that awaited her kingdom. They would all die pointlessly, needlessly, all because she wasn't good enough for the goddess to take notice of her.

She turned the corner, the light of midday warming her skin. Even if it was worth nothing to them, she would still offer her thanks to the soldiers returning from battle - at least they did something worthwhile.

A shock of white hair caught her attention. Two brown eyes rested on either side of a tattooed blue. For just a moment, the heavy stone that pressed on Zelda's chest lifted an inch.

"Impa!" Zelda cried, rushing toward her friend and embracing her. "You made it! I was so worried about you coming to the castle by yourself! Were you safe? Did you get caught up in the battle? You're not hurt, are you?"

"Slow down, Your Highness," her friend laughed, shaking her head. "I'm fine. The roads were clear the whole way from Kakariko." She paused, her grin turning a little sheepish. "Right up until the end, anyway. One of your knights had to rush in when a small mob of monsters wanted to eat me for lunch."

"Oh!" Zelda gasped, one hand covering her mouth. "How awful!"

Impa nodded, then showed Zelda the small object she was clutching tight to her chest. "Luckily, neither I, nor the Sheikah Slate, were damaged. But the strangest thing happened right as those Bokoblins almost had me. I guess you noticed that weird earthquake a little while ago? I think it's all connected to-"

Suddenly, another flash of white streaked across her vision. A single eye of rippling blue shown for only an instant before two quick, armored hands caught the small object and lifted it high. Zelda's breath caught.

In the hands of the knight, whom Zelda had hardly paid any mind to before, wriggled a tiny eggshell of a Guardian. Little jointed legs flailed, its head trying to spin toward her, fighting as fiercely as its tiny body could against the knight who held it aloft. Its legs clicked and a whistle of frustrated distress sang with every pump of its piston, popping out of the top of its shell with the same excitement of a child jumping up and down when they desperately wanted to get an adult's attention.

Beside her, Impa nudged Zelda's shoulder, directing her attention to the Slate in her hands. As Impa lifted it up, catching both the Slate's screen and the Guardian's protests in her field of vision, Zelda's eyes widened. With every whistle of distress, the Slate glowed. Over, and over, and over, a rhythm of mechanical whining.

"Incredible…" Zelda breathed, taking hold of the Slate and bringing it closer to the little Guardian, yet out of reach of its sharp claws, still flailing wildly. With each step, the glow got brighter. "I've never seen the Slate behave in such a way."

"Neither have I," Impa concurred. "Any ideas what the connection is?"

Twisting and writhing, fighting the knight's grasp as desperately as a tiny Guardian possibly could, a strange sensation tugged at Zelda's heart. "Beyond it being Sheikah tech? Not at all." A slow grin spread across her features. "But I would be delighted to find out!" She passed the Slate back to Impa. "Sir, please hand me that Guardian."

He had to have been the youngest knight Zelda had ever seen. At some point during the battle, his helmet must have gotten knocked off, leaving his sandy blonde mop to dangle from a half-loose hairband. His eyes were almost as bright a blue as the little Guardian, and he looked at her with such conflicted concern that she wondered what she could have possibly said this time to disappoint everyone. When he spoke, still holding the Guardian high off the ground and far enough away that even its farthest stretches couldn't reach her, his youthful voice firmly cemented in her mind that he couldn't have been more than a few years older than herself. "Your Highness, this Guardian may be dangerous," he said, bringing back all the memories of her father's chiding. She almost rolled her eyes and demanded the Guardian at once, but his second statement gave her pause. "Allow me to take it wherever you want to study it. I don't want it scratching you, even by accident."

His words stunned her, leaving her only to stare at him and the little Guardian. While many in her father's command would deny her access to her interests, very few would disobey a direct order from their princess. Fewer still gave a reason. And none, in Zelda's recollection, had ever offered to help her in such an interest. For several seconds, she tried to come up with a good reason why he was being ridiculous and should just hand the little Guardian over (especially before her father saw it), but the longer she hesitated, the more those intriguing blue eyes, natural and mechanical, piqued her academic interest. A young knight, a considerate knight, and, as she considered him again, a rather handsome knight, was just the anomaly she wanted to add to her journals.

She glanced over at Impa, who merely shrugged. Settling on her own choice, Zelda answered him. "Very well. Follow us to my study."

As she turned away, back to the walls of her home, she half-expected him to take off with the little Guardian and immediately tell her father. Yet, when she glanced over her shoulder and listened for the heavy footfalls of armored boots, she was amazed to find that he kept his word and followed her. An anomaly indeed.

Avoiding her father was easily done, as his voice carried through the courtyard and corridors. She turned quick corners, ducking into side rooms to let the king pass by unaware. While Impa knew well Zelda's habits of avoiding confrontation with her father whenever possible, she could only imagine the thoughts that a knight and a stranger might have about the secrecy of it all.

The door to her study creaked as she pushed it open, ushering them all inside. By the time they reached this room, the little Guardian at last stopped squirming, instead taking to looking around curiously at the two women and the Sheikah tech and schematics that lay strewn across Zelda's desk. Though he still didn't release the Guardian, the knight lowered it; Zelda wondered whether he truly believed that it posed less of a threat than before, or his arms simply got tired of holding it high.

With the door firmly shut behind them, Zelda again took up the Slate, comparing its glow to the slowed whistle of the curious Guardian. So long as the knight held it, the Guardian would likely continue to whine in distress. An autonomous being would never be content in the grip of someone else.

"Sir Knight," Zelda began, trying not to trip over her words when he turned that electric blue gaze on her once more. "I apologize for not asking earlier. What is your name?"

The knight blinked at her, as if surprised that she would ask such a basic formality. Did this whole castle think her such a simpleton? She'd never forgive whoever was spreading those vile rumors. However, after only a moment of doubt, the knight spoke. "Link, Your Highness."

"Sir Link," Zelda repeated, pleased with the way such a simple name rolled off her tongue, "thank you very much for bringing the Guardian here. Will you please set it down?"

Again, the knight hesitated. He frowned, first at her, then the Guardian. "Is that safe, Your Highness? What if it attacks you?"

Cautious, but perhaps that was to be commended in someone of his profession. Zelda sighed, setting her hands on her hips. "Would it make you feel better if I allowed you to stay until you were convinced the Guardian is not a danger to me?"

Sir Link nodded, resolute, like the parade dogs that marched alongside decorated captains.

He set the Guardian down onto her floor. It bounced slightly, wobbling on little legs as it tried to get its bearings. It let out a short whistle, two quick tones that almost sounded like indignation, then scuttled over to Zelda.

The knight's sword left its sheath. The Guardian stopped, turned back to him, and let out another, sharper whistle. Between the Guardian's sass and the knight's bewildered expression, Zelda couldn't help but laugh.

The humor was equally not lost on Impa, who joined Zelda in laughing at the ridiculous display. "I think it's offended!"

Raising one claw at Sir Link, the Guardian whistled again, pointed at his sword, then the sheath at his hip, and back again. The knight only stared at the Guardian, seemingly at a loss.

"Ah, Sir Link," Zelda managed to say between bouts of laughter, "I believe it is trying to tell you that it doesn't appreciate the threat of force." She knelt down by the Guardian, smiling at the charming, intelligent entity. "Is that correct, little friend?"

At a final, resolute whistle, Sir Link sheathed his sword, though his eyes never stopped tracking the potential danger.

Now down on the same level as the Guardian, its details came into better focus. It appeared to be made of the same materials as the larger Guardians that her scientists slowly unearthed from the ground. The same swirling designs aligned along its swivel joint, no doubt an indicator to the assembler. But, thus far, all the Guardians they had managed to activate were not so autonomous. Their targeting apparatus would spin. They might lift a leg, stiffly and without purpose. Certainly nothing of the kind that wiggled like a pup and leaned into her outstretched hand. "Fascinating," Zelda mused aloud, "Unlike all the others we've recovered so far, which have only been for combat and defense, I believe we may have stumbled upon a companion model."

Curiously, Impa joined Zelda on the floor, peering closely at the Guardian. "But why would they build something like this? What use could it possibly have in the fight against the Calamity?"

A sharp whistle answered her. The Guardian shifted in apparent agitation. Its targeting lens scanned the room, its body twisting this way and that, before it finally settled on something of interest to it. Mechanical legs scuttled across the floor to the edge of Zelda's desk. It wiggled, staring straight up.

Zelda rose again, moving to assist the little Guardian. "Do you need help getting-?"

With the reflexes of a hunting cat, the Guardian launched itself up onto the top of her desk, only slipping a little on loose papers.

Zelda stared at the Guardian, the gears in her mind whirring intensely, half-formed ideas of trajectory, force, and amazingly quick calculations all whizzing through her thoughts. "…I suppose not, then."

Now on a higher elevation, the Guardian wasted no more time. It stretched a claw up, toward the morbid display of the Calamity from ten thousand years ago. She hated the tapestry, and would have burned it, if not for her father's insistence on some reminder of her "true goals" following her even in the space that was supposed to be her own. The Guardian hopped, bounced, one claw extended as far as possible toward the depiction of Calamity Ganon, pushed back by the priestess and hero of old.

Between the Sheikah, the knight, and the scientist, one of them should have been able to discover the little Guardian's meaning - or so Zelda assumed. But as she traded confused glances with her companions, she realized that they too were at a loss. Zelda frowned and leaned down closer to the Guardian; beside her, the knight tensed. "I don't understand what you're trying to convey, little one."

Metal flashed before her eyes. A glimpse of a claw streaked by her face; she could feel the rush of displaced air on her nose. Faster still was the knight, his bracer clanging loudly against the Guardian's body as he shoved it back into the wall just under the tapestry. Almost mechanical himself, Sir Link's attention remained locked on the Guardian he detained, pinning it against the wall while it whined and whistled pitifully.

Impa likewise set her hand on her weapon, glaring at the Guardian. "That thing tried to attack you!"

"Wait!" Zelda held up her hands, staying the blades of both warriors. The Guardian's blue lens pulsed with quick light, mirroring her heartbeat. She retreated away from the desk, taking a half-step back. "You didn't know I was right behind you, did you?"

Three whistles played in quick succession. The Guardian trembled, metal and stone clinking. Whoever had programmed this companion, they must have taken great care to ensure it mimicked Hylian behavior and expression.

Zelda nodded to Sir Link. "Release it."

"But-!" the knight started to say, but was quickly silenced by an authoritative look from his princess. Reluctantly, slowly, Sir Link drew his hand away from the Guardian.

Once freed, the Guardian moved a little slower. It again raised its claw to the tapestry.

"Yes, the Calamity," Zelda sighed, wishing the drollness of her position as the heir to nothing would somehow not find its way into the one pleasure she had.

The Guardian tapped the tapestry again, incessantly, whistling and bouncing. When it at last appeared as frustrated with them as they were confused by it, the Guardian switched its target. Rather than the Calamity, it pointed at the figure of the ancient priestess. Then, it pointed to her, and back to the Calamity again.

Zelda's mind worked frantically to decipher the Guardian's meaning. The Calamity. The priestess. It equated her to the priestess. Well, of course it did, having been constructed while the priestess was still alive and thus attributing her ancestor's deeds to her disappointing descendant. It kept tapping. The Calamity. The Calamity. The Calamity.

"I don't get it." Impa said with a shake of her head. "Is it broken?"

A sharp whistle informed Impa that it was most certainly not broken.

As amusing as it was to watch the Guardian and Impa have a stare off at each other, questions burned through Zelda's mind. The little Guardian had a message for them, some information about the Calamity, and she was completely incapable of understanding it. But, there was someone who might have a better chance.

"Impa," Zelda turned toward her friend, "How do you feel about returning to the tech lab already?"

Setting her hands on her hips, Impa looked between her princess and the strange egg of a Guardian who almost seemed to be glaring at her. "I guess I have to. Though with the way that thing is looking at me, I'm not inclined to take it alone." She held out her hand toward her friend. "You know we'll need to ask your father's permission."

Dread settled over Zelda's shoulders, pushed back as much as she could with a long inhale. "Yes," she sighed, resigning herself to the uncomfortable, but hopefully not fruitless, conversation. She bit her lip, looking between the little Guardian and the knight. "Sir Link, thank you for your assistance thus far. You are released."

While most servants and guards were more than happy to take off with barely more than a bow or word of acknowledgement, Sir Link remained resolute. He shook his head. "Your Highness, I cannot abide to leave your side until your safety is secure. Respectfully, I request to remain on guard until you uncover the true purpose of this Guardian and have determined, without a doubt, that it is not a danger to you."

A brow raised at his refusal, her skepticism traded with Impa. Where in Hyrule did this knight hail from, that he would be so diligent in his duties? Her curiosity and wonder grew all the more, the anomalies of the day stacking upon one another. "Very well, you may come along. Your presence may be of use to us, lending credibility to our petition." She turned her attention to the little Guardian. "Well, little friend, can you hop down and follow, or would you prefer to be carried?"

A short trill was her reply, followed by the Guardian scuttling to the end of the table. With a mighty shove, the Guardian leapt from the side, landing with ease on its mechanical legs. It whistled at her again, its blue light facing her - like a pup, waiting for orders.

Despite the anxiety in her heart at their next steps, a smile tugged at the corners of Zelda's mouth. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was about this Guardian that she found so intriguing, or so charming, but it captivated her all the same.

When Impa opened the door, Zelda stepped out into the corridor, the little Guardian, and the stalwart knight, following closely behind.

---

"You see, Father, that is why my presence is necessary in this matter," Zelda fought through the tightness of her voice, hiding the shake of her hands by folding them behind her. Far above her, upon the throne that might someday be hers, if she ever overcame her uselessness, her father appeared unmoved.

He stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing as he examined the Guardian at her side. "You truly believe that this…relic has something to do with the Calamity?"

Zelda nodded, trying to ignore the way he said it, like chastising a child for dragging their toys around in public. "Yes, Father. The Guardian's behavior left no doubt in my mind that it has an urgent message for us regarding the Calamity. And…I believe, it has a message for me specifically." She swallowed, struggling to meet her father's gaze as he leaned forward, as if daring her to go on. Quick breaths through her nose steadied her rapid heartbeat. "The Guardian recognized the depiction of the priestess, as well as the Calamity. It pointed to the priestess, and then to me. As this machine was no doubt active in the time of that ancient priestess, it likely witnessed that priestess's sealing capabilities. There may be some hint within it to unlocking my own."

When she was very young, she recalled her mother teaching her how to tinker with machines. She practiced her fine motor skills on locks, learning to move her hands with precision and accuracy, subtlety and quickness valued with every twist of the tool. Speaking to her father, she'd learned, worked much the same way. If she used the right tool, and jiggled it just so, the lock would come undone, and she'd be free.

Her father leaned back again, his usually-dark expression brightening. If Zelda didn't know any better, she would have mistaken his expression for one of pleasure. "Very well. I will allow you to take this messenger to the tech laboratory. Our hopes go with you, my daughter, that you are able to recover something of value from this journey. Should this relic assist you in your training, I wholeheartedly endorse it."

Wind rushed out of Zelda's lungs, stunned by his acquiescence. "Thank-!"

"On one condition," her father continued, rising from his throne. His scrutinizing gaze left her, traveling to the knight who knelt behind her. "You will not travel alone. While I do not doubt Impa's abilities, she is insufficient to protect you from the increased dangers that lurk outside our walls."

Zelda stared at the king, taken aback by this direction. "O-of course, Father." Unsure of what else to do, having received her conditional freedom, she bowed to her king.

With a nod of acknowledgment in return, she was dismissed from his court, and thus, free to prepare for her journey.

It didn't take the trio long to return to Zelda's study. Link and Impa helped her load up the notes she had been meaning to bring by the lab anyway. Having sent servants to collect traveling bags and horses for them, they were free to sort through and prioritize what Zelda deemed most important. The knight's attention never left the Guardian. And the Guardian's never left the tapestry, as if transfixed by it.

When the last of her notes and books were packed away in her trunk, she returned to the table from which the Guardian watched them. "Well, any other secrets or insight for us, little one?"

The Guardian let out a low coo, as if in thought. It turned back toward the tapestry, pointing toward the priestess, then back at Zelda again.

It took all her willpower not to roll her eyes. "Yes, I know. I am her descendant. But, as you can see," Zelda showed off her palm to the Guardian, as flesh as it ever was, "I have no divinity to show for it."

Even the Guardian sounded disappointed, but then turned again to the tapestry. It raised its claw toward the Divine Beast, Vah Naboris.

"The Divine Beasts," Zelda confirmed. "We have those, but they are without pilots at the moment. That was on our list of tasks to accomplish…at some point."

The Guardian whistled in approval, scanning over the tapestry again. When it lifted a claw toward the depiction of the hero, Zelda's stomach went sour.

"Yes, the hero," Zelda acknowledged dryly, trying not to let the venom drip through her voice. "He has not yet appeared. The sword is in the Lost Woods, which is currently overrun by monsters." She frowned, crossing her arms. "He can take his time. I have no desire to meet him."

A curious whistle answered her.

"Because," Zelda inhaled sharply, huffing out a breath in frustration. "My father has pledged me to be married to him."

Notes:

edit: changed Zelda's age to 20 [06/30/2025]

Chapter 2: Anomaly of a Knight

Summary:

She drummed her fingers on the work table, no longer interested in the schematics and equations that she had begun to work on that evening. With the little Guardian gone, taken by Purah and Robbie for analysis, she was left with only her recollection of the attack. As much as she wanted to provide information regarding the movement, targeting, and weaknesses of the Guardians, she couldn't think on it without also thinking on him.

Bandages wrapped tightly around his arm. He barely flinched when the Sheikah medic applied the cooling burn salve. Across the room, among the dozens of Hylian soldiers and captains who limped to the tech lab following the battle, Sir Link leaned his head back against the cool stone wall, closing his eyes for just a moment. Lantern light flickered over his face, circles of orange light coming and going whenever someone stepped between him and the source.

Worry twisted in Zelda's stomach. She tried several times to convince herself to leave him be, to let him rest for the evening. After all, they were practically strangers.

Yet it was that very unfamiliarity that she couldn't fathom. Over and over in her head, she played back the moment where they first saw the raging Guardian. Its blue lens focused on her, a targeting line of red terminating on her forehead, just above her eyes. She shuddered, panic seizing her for an instant before she took a breath again. She was so close to dying, right then and there. Distracted by her conversation with Impa, she hadn't noticed the strange activity of the malfunctioning Guardian. She could have died there, and with her, Hyrule's only hope for defeating the Calamity. As useless as she was, as long as she breathed, her potential remained.

She drummed her fingers on the work table, no longer interested in the schematics and equations that she had begun to work on that evening. With the little Guardian gone, taken by Purah and Robbie for analysis, she was left with only her recollection of the attack. As much as she wanted to provide information regarding the movement, targeting, and weaknesses of the Guardians, she couldn't think on it without also thinking on him.

Lightning quick, fearless, determined, he took her place in the line of fire. It could have killed them both. None of the other guards were that fast, that attentive. He was the only one to heed the little one's warning. A man who she met only the day before leapt in front of her, threw himself into certain death, and deflected a blow that should have destroyed them both. The mystery of this knight continued to intrigue her. And though she wanted to let him rest, and perhaps to get some rest herself, she could not leave the study without getting some results.

She swallowed. To the back of the chamber, Impa discussed guard rotations with the Sheikah on security detail. After the fright they experienced today, her friend would not accept even a moment of the Princess of Hyrule outside of someone's line of sight. She hoped, at least, that the guard would see fit to just stand by the door to her quarters, rather than observe her personally.

Rising from her seat at the table, Zelda again considered what she would say to him. "Thank you" felt altogether insufficient. He'd saved her life, for Hylia's sake! While she knew that it was the duty of a royal knight to protect her family, she'd never seen anyone act with so much conviction. With each step she took toward him, she doubted her ability to adequately convey the depths of her gratitude and amazement. When she had gotten within ten feet, the knight opened one eye.

At once, he roused himself fully, jumping up to greet her. His bow to her shuddered slightly on the way back up - she suddenly recalled the Moblin's club swinging hard at the base of his back. Yet, his expression conveyed no pain. The only indication of injury or discomfort was in the binding of the laser's burn and the slight favoring of one leg over the other. "Princess," he said, a greeting and an acknowledgment.

"Ah, Sir Link," Zelda began, no closer to a sufficient address now that she was fifteen minutes ago when she first fought the impulse to speak to him. Hylia help her, she couldn't hold that electric blue gaze. Beside him, his sword and shield leaned against his stool by the wall. Scorchmarks burned a dark star into the wood. "I…I wanted to thank you. For saving me." She tried not to wince.

When she dared to look at him again after several seconds of silence, she found him in much the same state of uncertainty. "I had to."

Cold sank into her heart, though she expected it. "Yes, I know," she tried not to let her disappointment seep into her tone, "Your skills far exceeded my expectations, and your devotion to your duties is truly commendable."

Sir Link, too, appeared unable to meet her gaze. She imagined he had no occasion to look on her before, being a young knight and not commonly within the inner keep of the Castle. "…Thank you, Your Highness," he finally managed to say, his voice somewhat softer than she imagined her savior's tone to be. "I'm glad you're safe."

Safe? Zelda could almost laugh at the absurdity of such a statement, as if he'd merely caught her from tripping and landing on her face in the dirt. His modesty did not match the deed he performed. Nevertheless, she had to convey her gratitude in some manner. "Thanks to you, Sir Link. I've never seen anyone move like you did. I've certainly never seen anyone parry a Guardian's strike before."

The smallest hint of a grin turned the corner of his mouth. He rubbed the back of his neck, still keeping his gaze averted, toward the singed shield that caught the deadly blow. "Truth be told, I didn't know I could. I just saw it aiming at you and I knew I had to block it. I, uh, thought it would be something like an arrow or a bolt. Blocking an attack of light and energy was a little beyond my expectation."

Zelda's brows shot up in surprise. As rational as his explanation was, she had taken for granted that he was familiar with the Guardians and their manner of attack. Sheikah reports circulated the Castle - half rumor, half fact. Everyone in the Castle knew the Guardians were creations of science, and a few were lucky enough to see the weapon's testing in the courtyard, trying to determine the capabilities of the laser by placing walls of various materials in front of it. By all accounts, a shield should not have been able to withstand such an attack. And yet, there it was, the object that both of them could look at in wonder - only a charred mark to show for the impossible task.

"You were pretty amazing, too, Your Highness," he said, breaking Zelda out of her thoughts.

She stared at him, taking several seconds to process what he had said. "I- I was amazing?" As impossible as deflecting a Guardian must be, such praise was far outside of her understanding of reality.

Finally daring to look at her, Link's electric blue gaze met hers, sending a shock of unstudied energy down her spine. As quickly as the lightning struck, it moved on. He gestured toward the doors where the Sheikah had gone earlier, taking the little Guardian with them. "The Slate. I'd heard you and Impa talking about what it could do. It sounded like a utility device, moving metal and creating platforms of ice." He shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I was terrified when you said you wanted to help in the fight, but you held your own. The way you used the Slate-" He held up his hands, pretending to hold the device out in front of him. "-I've never seen anything like it. You know those mechanics as well as I know a sword and shield."

Heat bloomed on her cheeks, too stunned by his words to fully comprehend them. That he was terrified that she'd get hurt joining the fight was easy enough to fathom. But a compliment? She'd heard compliments before, vague comments about her beauty and grace, her refined speech, all the surface trappings of a lady of rank. This wasn't such a compliment. He didn't call her beautiful; he called her something far better: competent.

She couldn't remember the last time anyone outside of the Sheikah had called her that.

"Th-thank you!" Zelda stammered, unsure of what else to say to such a statement. Nervously, she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, desperate to find some outlet for the anxiety and tension that simmered in her blood. "Normally, a Princess would be trained in something like archery, but I never had time for lessons. I'd like to learn someday, but I- I'm glad I'm of some use to everyone. It's…a nice change."

She'd never seen an expression quite like that, not directed at her. Confusion, pity, scandal, his brows turned inward and the corners of his eyes crinkled, a slight frown. "What do you mean by that?"

"Princess!" Impa called, derailing Zelda's thoughts before they had a chance to form a response. Zipping down the stairs and over to where Link and Zelda were speaking, Impa wove through a maze of tables and workbenches, finally coming to a stop beside her friend. "Princess, our accommodations are ready. You should get some rest. We've got a long day of research ahead of us tomorrow, if my sister's muttering is any indication." She nodded toward Link. "Thank you for your help today, Sir Link. Will you be returning back to the Castle in the morning?"

A spark flickered in her chest, Zelda's attention rapidly shifting from her friend to the anomaly of a knight. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "If you don't need me anymore-"

"We might!" Zelda interjected, surprising herself as much as anyone. Like scrambling after a restless cricket to catalogue, she felt all the frantic energy of an experiment going awry. At Link's shocked expression, she realized her quickness to speak. "That is, ah, we may require your assistance on the way back. I don't know how long we'll be staying here, and with the increase in monster activity, I thought it would be best if you remained here, at least for now." The charred shield stared up at her from the floor, shimmering with black carbon. "No one else can block a Guardian."

The explanation appeared to satisfy Link, whose shoulders lost some tension. He nodded, resolute as any soldier ought to be. "Then I will stay, Your Highness."

The spark caught, a candle's flame struggling in the dark cavity of her chest. Even a little light found its way to the surface. "Very good. Impa," Zelda would choose, for now, to pretend that she didn't notice her friend's raised brow and tightly pressed lips, "where we will be staying?"

Impa gestured toward the stairs she just came from. "The third floor, Your Highness. I've already inspected the quarters." Addressing Link once more, Impa's tone shifted, more amused than before, like she was concealing some joke that only she knew about, "We'll see you in the morning, Sir Link. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Miss Impa, Your Highness," he gave them a short bow, not enough to exacerbate the injury.

"Just 'Impa' is fine, Sir Link," Impa said, grabbing Zelda's hand in hers. "Well, Your Highness?"

Loathe as she was to leave her experiment only half-observed, she would console herself with the promise of future study. "Goodnight, Sir Link."

Allowing herself to be led to the quarters prepared for her, Zelda physically followed after Impa, but her mind remained on the strange events of the day. A Guardian sprang up out of the rock. They'd gone that way a number of times, even after the Guardians were uncovered. Why did it activate now? And why was it hostile?

"Princess?" Impa's voice cut through her thoughts. She closed the door behind them, leaving them with only the light of a Sheikah-blue lantern and the glow of the moon and stars through the window. "Are you alright? I mean, actually alright?"

Taking a deep breath, Zelda took stock of herself. She selected one of the two beds, plopping down on the side. "I'm unharmed," she decided. She unlaced her boots and tugged them off, wincing only a little at the damage done to them in the fight. She'd have to get the soles repaired, or replaced entirely. "But, truthfully, my thoughts are very scattered."

Across the room, Impa hung her hat on the hook, beside her weapons. Piece by piece, her armor came off as she spoke. "As are mine. I can't begin to understand what all of this means. The appearance of the little Guardian, the mysterious tower, and now a hostile Guardian attacking us?" She shook her head, her now-loose hair like a cascade of snow down her back. "It's all so strange."

With her day clothes set aside, Zelda climbed into bed. The sheets weren't as soft as the linens in her chambers back at the Castle, but they didn't scratch, and they were warm enough. "Would it be terrible of me to say that I'm most curious about what message the little Guardian has for me?" She pulled half of her hair in front of her, starting a loose braid, tugging out knots with her fingers as she worked. "It seemed so adamant that it had to tell us something about the Calamity. I can't begin to guess what knowledge this Guardian possesses. I want to know as much as I can. What it has to say, what its purpose is, how it was able to interact with other Sheikah technology in a way we haven't observed in anything else? All of this, and no doubt a dozen more questions that will form in the middle of answering those."

"Without a doubt," Impa agreed. She dimmed the lantern, the wick disappearing below the glass. "Yet I can't help but suspect that the Guardian isn't your only topic of interest."

"Oh?" Zelda started on the other braid as her friend climbed into the other bed, her form barely visible in the dark. "What do you mean?"

Even in the darkness, the roll of Impa's eyes was obvious enough. She'd pulled her knees up to her chest, not yet committing to rest. "I mean that knight."

Zelda hoped the night hid the blush on her cheeks. "O-oh, yes." She bit her lower lip. Her fingers fumbled slightly with the braid, forgetting their place in the steady rhythm. "He performed a feat that I've never seen before. Deflecting a Guardian's blast? I've never seen anything like it! I'd be very interested in collaborating with him to discover the mechanisms by which he achieved such a feat."

"Mhm," Impa agreed, humming in a sing-song, laughing way. "He's performed another feat I've never witnessed before."

This statement intrigued Zelda all the more. As Impa was on the battlefield with Link more than she was, Zelda had little doubt that Impa may have witnessed many skills from the young knight. "Like what?"

Impa's shadow straightened up, wiggling in a self-satisfied way. "He's got you smitten."

"S-smitten?!" Zelda gasped, heat blooming across her cheeks. "Impa, please, don't be ridiculous. He's just a subject I'd like to know more about, that's all!" Still, she pulled the covers up to her face, trying to hide the worst of her blush. "I do not get silly crushes, Impa. A lady of my position does not involve herself with such trivial nonsense."

Clearly not believing a word of it, Impa sighed. The bed creaked slightly as she settled. "As you say. But I don't need a third eye to see the way you smiled at him." She laughed to herself. "All the same, if you say there's nothing there, then I'll pretend I don't see anything. But Zellie, having a harmless crush isn't a bad thing. It's something to take your mind off the Calamity preparations."

"Hmph," Zelda grumbled, sinking down into her own bed. She wouldn't dignify such a statement with a response. Entertaining a crush was as pointless as designing a mask for a ball that would never take place. An amusement, perhaps, but a waste of time and resources. She could think on Sir Link's striking blue eyes, his quick movement in battle, his shouts of exertion as he slammed his sword into a Moblin's gut, his kind words that caught her more off-guard than the Guardian's targeting light… She buried herself deeper in the blankets. Even if she had a crush, which she didn't, it wouldn't matter in the end. She'd be married off to whatever pompous bastard drew the sword from the Lost Woods, and that would be the end of it. It was easier to kill an attachment before it had a chance to form, than to imagine breaking it when she had no other choice.

Chapter 3: Her Knight

Summary:

Warmth rose in her cheeks whenever she ran those words back in her head. Her knight. It meant nothing more than a station, a job he had to complete. All the same, a ridiculous part of her continued to survive like the stubborn weeds that grew between stone paths. No matter how many times she tried to stomp it into the ground, the bloom kept creeping to the surface.

Notes:

Apologies for the delay! I worked a ten hour day lmao.

Content Warning: Alcohol

Heavy hooves fell onto the road, shifting her weight with every step. A chestnut tail swished ahead of her, visible between flicking ears of white. The mountains of Lanayru loomed ahead of them. Zelda swallowed hard, lifting her eyes to the task before them.

It felt like only yesterday that her world shattered beneath her feet. She expected a message about her sealing power, the secret to unlocking that which her people depended on. Instead, when Purah and Robbie returned with the Guardian and the Slate, only scenes of disaster greeted her. Flames, a miasma of death and evil hovering around her home, static-damaged images of the consequences of her failure. She at first thought these were predictions, a rendering of what might be. But when Robbie analyzed the data again, he confirmed her worst fears: they were memories. The destruction was real. The deaths were real. If not now, then at some point in the future, she would fail.

She gripped the reins tighter, her stomach cold and twisting. The little Guardian, prophet of their doom, marched alongside her horse as diligently as any soldier.

In the court of her father, she'd forced herself to tell a different story. Impa and Sir Link remained silent as she spun the results in a way that made her look like less of a complete disappointment.

"And you trust the accuracy of these images?" her father's voice still echoed in her mind, the sunlight behind him clear as day when she closed her eyes, streams of gold peeking between the gaps in her crest.

"I do," she answered, fighting every instinct to tense, to curl her fists, to twitch her fingers. "I believe the messege is that we are not yet prepared for the Calamity in this current state."

His scrutinizing gaze cut into her soul, stealing the breath from her lungs like icy talons.

Nevertheless, she spoke again. "Father, I believe that we need to find pilots for the Divine Beasts. They were as essential to the defeat of the Calamity as the priestess and hero. As I…as I continue to focus my efforts on unlocking my potential, I cannot ignore the possibility that neglecting the Beasts could be the deciding factor that snatches away our victory over the Calamity."

Every morning, her maid laced her corset. The ribbons weaved in and out, intricate patterns of loops and bows, arranged perfectly in spacing and tightness to present the optimal figure. She'd learned how to twist and weave her words to conform her father's decisions to her own - at least, as much as she could.

Zelda took a deep breath, settling her gaze on the knight on the chestnut horse, the late afternoon sun glinting on his armor. When she got permission to recruit pilots for the Divine Beasts, she didn't expect her father to order the knight to remain with her.

"Sir Link is going with you," her father decided, catching them as they prepared to head toward Zora's Domain.

She could only look between her father and the knight in confusion. "I don't understand."

"You need protection," the king continued. He gestured for Sir Link to approach, his traveling bag slung over his shoulder. "No one else has been able to deflect Guardian attacks. There is no guarantee that you will not be hunted by another. I'm appointing Sir Link as your personal knight."

Warmth rose in her cheeks whenever she ran those words back in her head. Her knight. It meant nothing more than a station, a job he had to complete. All the same, a ridiculous part of her continued to survive like the stubborn weeds that grew between stone paths. No matter how many times she tried to stomp it into the ground, the bloom kept creeping to the surface.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice Sir Link's horse stop until she'd nearly crashed right into him. She pulled back on the reins, her horse shaking his head in annoyance. She listened for any sign of monsters, any scuffling or snorting or growling, but nothing came to her ears. Only the rolling of wagon wheels and splashing of shallow-bottom boats reached her.

Her knight pulled to the side, his horse turning enough so that he could face her and Impa, who rode just behind. "We're almost at Goponga Village, Your Highness. The road to the Domain is difficult to traverse in low light. We won't make it to the base of the mountain before nightfall, let alone the lantern path. I suggest we stop here for the night and set out in the morning."

Zelda tilted her head, looking beyond him to the rooftops of the village, the trail winding toward the mountain on the other side. "Even at this pace?"

Resolute, her knight nodded. "I've been down this way enough times. Stopping at Goponga is the best course of action. Impa?"

On a white and black dappled horse, her companion considered the path and village ahead of them. "I'll defer to your judgment. I can't say I've gone to the Domain enough to make a determination myself." She rolled her shoulders and straightened her back. "Besides, I'm dying to get off and stretch a little. We can hit the road again bright and early."

A grin spread across Link's face at Impa's acquiescence. "I promise it will be worth it, Your Highness. Goponga has the best fried fish anywhere in Hyrule."

Now that was something! Her mouth watered at the thought of flaky, fried fish. She didn't often get anything fried at the Castle. The king preferred his dishes without excessive oil, or so he said. She always assumed it was because he stained his tunic once and was so mortified by the experience that he never dared to serve fried food again. But here, away from her father's influence, she could have anything she had the rupees for - so, just about anything. And, as she noticed the excited gleam in Sir Link's eyes, she couldn't help but laugh to herself. "I had no idea you were such a glutton, Sir Link," she teased. "But I will admit that you make me want to trust you in that regard. As Impa said, we defer to your judgment."

Secured with his companions' consent, Sir Link led them into the village. He took the horses to board at the stable. With Zelda's permission, he set about reserving two rooms for them.

With Sir Link temporarily away, Zelda could take the village in for herself. Goponga was a strange village. A very wet one. Half on islands and half on platforms of wood, all the homes were connected by thin strips of land or sturdy wooden bridges. The main road itself switched between these two, a straight line from the road that wound by the Hylia River all the way to the road that would take them into Zora's Domain. She expected fish, as such a wetland would no doubt produce an abundance. But, as she wandered through the market, Impa's hand in hers, she didn't expect to see the crispy legs of a frog.

Such a strange sight! The inhabitants of the village milled about the market, buying eggs and fish and frogs and cloth, all of these as normal as the rest. When she spotted a child chewing and tearing into one of these frogs, her stomach turned. She swallowed down her immediate reaction. "It is occasionally astounding to me that Hyrule could be so different, from place to place." Despite her best attempts to remind herself that the customs of this village were just as valid and ingrained as her own customs at the Castle, that might be one she'd have to refrain from partaking in.

"What do you mean?" Link asked, returning from the stable and joining them in the market…a fried frog in hand. Zelda really tried not to gag at the sight of it.

---

As the sun dipped down below the plains of Central Hyrule, painting the sky pink and the ground gold, Zelda didn't think she could eat another bite of the delicious fried fish, steamed shellfish, and crispy rice that the innkeeper brought out in abundance, more than happy to show off his staff's skills for the traveling Princess and her companions. Despite her hesitations, and plugging her nose a little, Zelda did try a bite of frog. While the texture wasn't great, the flavor wasn't the worst she'd ever had. She conceded that fried frog was, perhaps, not that bad.

No one appeared more satisfied and relaxed in the village than Sir Link. For being her knight, appointed to keep her safe from threats, he was surprisingly nonchalant. He spoke with the residents as if he'd known them all his life. And, much to Zelda's surprise, many of them knew his name without introduction.

Across the table, upon which was a small pile of fish bones and dishes between three hungry travelers, Sir Link swirled the remainder of his drink around in his cup. While Zelda was used to drinking water, or watered-down wine, the denizens of this part of Hyrule preferred beer. She'd been able to secure a glass of wine for herself, but Link and Impa decided on the house special. Though she was quite sure her face was no better off, between Sir Link and Impa, the Sheikah had nearly turned full red, laughing at some joke that Zelda didn't catch.

"There is no way you actually did that!" Impa laughed, tears streaming from her eyes.

Sir Link raised his glass, grinning broadly. "I never turn down a dare. Besides, I'm the best warrior in my division, probably the whole army."

Based on vague context alone, Zelda couldn't hope to guess what he had confessed to that made Impa laugh so much. But, it did give her an idea. She rested her elbows on the table, in the very way that her father would have scolded her immensely for, and smiled at them. "Prove it."

At the hint of a challenge, she had Sir Link's full attention. His gaze suddenly snapping to her made the flush even worse. He drained the rest of his glass, setting it on the table. "Gladly. What's the quest, Your Highness?"

A deeply selfish, deeply ridiculous part of herself wanted him to say her name, even with her title. A very tipsy part of her wanted to hear the sound of it in his voice. She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the thought from her mind. "If you're really as good as your reputation holds, you should have very little difficulty defeating my friend in a spar. A knight as brave and talented as you should have no trouble in the matter. Though, I will warn you, Impa is a highly-trained Sheikah warrior."

Now she had Impa's attention as well. The Sheikah's brown eyes lit with excitement and she sat straight up, slamming her glass onto the table as well. "That's a great idea! Saving the princess from a couple monsters is one thing-"

"A couple?" Sir Link laughed.

Choosing to ignore him, Impa continued. "-fighting me is a whole other game. You may do well enough against an opponent that can't think, but how do I know you'll be any use to her against intelligent enemies?"

Though the dusting of red across his cheeks would have indicated otherwise, Sir Link had no problem jumping up from the table. "Name the hour, brave warrior, and I'll meet you on the field."

She and Impa traded amused looks. While Zelda truly had no doubt that Sir Link was competent in fighting enemies of any sort, she couldn't help her curiosity about this battle. Impa had always been a formidable ally, her first (and up until now, only) bodyguard. Yet here was this young knight, willing to accept any challenge laid in front of him.

Wobbling a little more than Sir Link in getting up, Impa stood at her full height, enough to just slightly look down at him, her hands on her hips and a haughty smile on her face. "You ever fought a Sheikah before? We're Shadow Folk, you know. As silent as the night and as quick as the descent of darkness."

Undeterred, Sir Link straightened up even more - this didn't help him in the slightest, but it was endearing to watch. "You talk a lot for being night-silent."

Zelda didn't think Impa could get any redder, and yet Sir Link's words managed to draw out yet another shade. Impa huffed, as amused as she was offended, and turned away from him. "You won't be so smart with me when I kick your ass!" She picked up her hat from beside the table, securing it atop her head. "Let's settle this tonight, shall we?"

A wise warrior might have waited until minds were clear and bodies were sober, but very few would accuse any of the three travelers gathered in that tavern of having much wisdom. Sir Link picked up his shield and slung his sword across his back. The metal clanged hard against his armor, ringing like a bell. He gave Impa an over-dramatic bow, gesturing toward the door. "Ladies first."

In their haste to rush outside and begin their decisive spar, they'd both forgotten Zelda entirely, leaving her to chase after them to the edge of the village. In a clearing behind the inn, scant torchlight and the glow of the moon illuminated the squishy grass and stagnant water. Zelda's boots squelched as she followed them, as closely as she dared, especially after both combatants drew their weapons.

Like a true knight, Sir Link circled his opponent, his heels barely touching the ground, already looking for an opening to strike. In a flash, Impa rushed forward, her sword aimed with frightening precision for their state of inebriation. Metal clashed, Kakariko steel meeting Castle Town, both warriors refusing to give an inch. Sir Link shoved her off, or maybe she jumped back - Zelda couldn't tell.

Again and again they struck at each other, swords slamming into shield and iron bracers, tearing up the wet ground beneath them. When Impa rushed forward, Sir Link moved with a speed she couldn't fathom, as if time itself bent around him, allowing him to strike at Impa over and over in only a few precious seconds.

Skidding back from getting knocked aside again, Impa caught her breath, her chest expanding and contracting rapidly, her eyes tracking Sir Link as he set up to strike again, bringing his sword pommel close to his side in a defensive position. Blue flashed across Impa's eyes. Her hands moved quickly, forming rapid shapes that made Zelda's hands cramp just looking at. When she slammed her fist into her flat palm, blue magic burst over Sir Link's body like a mist, startling him enough that she could get a strike in, kicking him hard in the stomach. As he stumbled backward, the magic flowed from Sir Link back to Impa. In a flash, there wasn't just one Impa.

Sir Link caught himself, his greaves splashed with dark mud as he slipped and slid back into a standing position. His eyes widened, tracking three Impas at once, the shadows of the night cloaking the features of the copies. One after another, the Impas struck at Sir Link, hitting him on every side as he spun and swung wildly, trying to catch the original, yet only managing to pierce a phantom.

Zelda's heart hammered in her chest watching them, her hands wringing. While she knew that her friends wouldn't really harm each other, the gleam of their blades in the moonlight still frightened her. Striking with the flat of their blades could still hurt, and a wrong move could seriously injure the other. She stepped closer, daring to approach the ring of dislodged mud and torn grass. "I think you've proven your point, Impa!"

A crack pierced the night, followed by a loud splash as Sir Link fell. His hand flew to his jaw, where Impa's heel had struck. Her copies bounced beside her, ready to strike again if Sir Link got up.

"Impa!" Zelda cried, rushing forward. "That was completely unnesse-!"

Her words went unheeded, Impa soon joining Sir Link in the mud. She and her copies hit the ground hard, splashing into the mire when Sir Link flipped his sword around and knocked their legs out from under them. Impa gasped, having only a moment to reorient herself before Sir Link scrambled to his feet. When he brought his sword down to strike her, the field burst into a cloud of thick smoke.

Between the splashes of footsteps and her own coughing, Zelda couldn't perceive the fight, lost in the smoke from Impa's shield. It wasn't until she heard Impa yelp that Zelda could tell where they were.

The smoke cleared. Impa struggled and squirmed, firmly caught around the shoulders by Sir Link's strong grip, her back pinned to his chest. "How did you even find me?!" She whined, coming to the realization that, no matter how much she wiggled, she couldn't overcome his superior strength.

A bruise bloomed like a scarlet flower on the left side of his jaw. "Illusions don't splash," he said, releasing her. He took a step back, letting her stumble away from him.

They both took a moment to catch their breath and sheath their weapons. Aside from the blow to Sir Link's face, their armor protected them from any very serious injury. Zelda released a tense sigh, her hands unclenching.

Impa stepped forward first, offering her hand to Sir Link. "I'm sorry I kicked you."

For a brief moment, Zelda thought Sir Link would turn away. His blue eyes blazed in the moonlight, pain clearly igniting (admittedly reasonable) anger at her. But, after a short pause, Sir Link closed the gap and grasped her hand in his. "I see why the king appointed you to be her bodyguard," he said.

Letting their hands fall again, Impa nodded to him. "And I see why he wanted to add you." She offered an apologetic smile. "Between the two of us, no monster or enemy in Hyrule will ever touch our princess."

The way his gaze flickered toward her sent a rush of energy down her spine. No doubt the same thoughts were echoing through his mind that were bouncing through hers earlier that day. My knight. His princess. If he could see the blush on her cheeks in the cover of night, she might die from shame. Rather than give him the chance to perceive it, she turned away, gesturing back toward the inn. "S-shall we turn in for the evening, then? I imagine we'll want to be up early tomorrow to make it to Zora's Domain."

 

Chapter 4: The Other Princess

Summary:

She took a breath, fixing her eyes on the real target: Vah Ruta. If she could convince Princess Mipha and her father to join the fight against the Calamity, to pilot the Divine Beast…she'd start to feel a little less useless.

Dismounting at the gate of the sparkling palace, Zelda stared in awe at the beauty that surrounded her. The Zora did not build strong walls of stone and iron. They didn't cut arrow slits, or mount cannons behind tall crenelations. Their Domain, like the rest of the province that King Dorephan oversaw, was as open and free as the wide blue sky. Zora of every color passed before her eyes; standing guard, running errands, displaying their wares, bringing in nets full of fish, their children splashing in the fountain pool.

And Sir Link, it seemed, knew them all by name.

The sun had just barely started to creep over the mountains of Lanayru when the party set out again. Zelda shielded her eyes, squinting at their destination. She imagined the morning light shimmering on the luminous stone veneer of the Domain, the cascading water, and the warm welcome the Zora always had for her family. Though it had been ages since she'd last seen the Domain, she kept a cordial correspondence with their princess, as they were both set to inherit their fathers' thrones someday. Princess Mipha was as close of a peer as she'd ever had.

"What's with the get-up?" Impa teased, drawing Zelda's attention back toward the stable, where Sir Link had gone to gather their horses. Stepping out into the light, he delivered his horse last, the chestnut mare dutifully walking beside him. While most of his Hyrulean uniform remained, he'd traded his chest plate for an unusual shirt of armor; deep blue, set with silver, and shimmering like a fish's scales. Across his chest, the symbol of the Zora gleamed on a silver chain.

While Impa needed no help mounting her horse, Zelda gratefully accepted Sir Link's assistance - she told herself that it wasn't just so she could remember the feel of his hands on her waist. "It was a gift from Princess Mipha," he explained, turning back toward Impa when Zelda was rightly seated on her mount. "It's enchanted by the Zora and allows me to swim up waterfalls like they do. I figured it would be helpful. Swimming can bring you to the Domain's doorstep a lot faster than riding can."

Zelda considered his reasoning. "Yes, that would make sense. Defensively, the Zora would of course want to be able to reach their Domain faster than anyone else." Still, she couldn't take her eyes off of the shimmering blue scales and silver pauldrons. When Sir Link took point again, leading their way to the first of their potential pilots, his armor moved surprisingly well with him. "I take it you're quite familiar with the Domain, Sir Link?"

He flashed a grin back at her, almost as bright as the dawn itself. "You could say that. I practically grew up there. My father was stationed in Lanayru for most of my childhood, and I wouldn't let him leave me behind."

The mystery of the knight grew by the hour. A Hylian at home in the waters? She expected such a sentiment from the residents of Goponga Village, but not from… "Where does your family hail from, Sir Link?"

He pointed south. "Hateno. Way on the other side of these mountains." He shrugged, giving his horse a slight kick to get it to trot. "You won't find any Champions at a place like that, Your Highness."

As predicted, the path to the Domain took longer than she expected, and exactly as much time as Sir Link said it would. The trail wound up and up into the mountains, crossing and following the river. Zora-made bridges held them high above the rushing river below. She didn't dare look down until they were safely on the other side.

Since the denizens of this province had little use for a road when the river was more than suitable, it was some time before they actually met a Zora on their path.

Ahead of them, a dark blue Zora stood guard at the start of the long bridge that would take them toward the heart of the Domain. He dipped his head in acknowledgment, his fins flopping. "It's good to see you, Link!"

Though she expected some familiarity, based on the stories Sir Link had told them earlier, he quite stunned her when he leaned down to hug the guard; laughing, even! What an enigma he was!

"Good to see you, too, Trello! How's the Domain fared since I've been gone?" He looked toward the giant, curling glass tail of the great fish that marked the center of the Domain and the throne room of the king.

The guard heaved a sigh, shaking his head. "Not well, I'm afraid. Monster attacks are becoming more and more frequent these days. The princess stays busy in the infirmary." He smiled a little, an exasperated look in his eye. "Which I expect is where you'll end up, if she sees you looking like that."

Sir Link scoffed, grinning broadly despite the darkening bruise on the side of his face. "Fussing at me is one of her favorite things! I'm sure she'll appreciate the opportunity." Then, as if remembering his actual duty and purpose in coming here, he gestured back toward the two women riding with him. "I'm escorting Princess Zelda and Miss Impa to see the king. Do you think he's available, or is he out hunting again?"

At least the guard had the decency to bow at her. Perhaps this was just the custom of the Zora, to be so familiar to everyone. "King Dorephan has stayed inside the Domain more often than not these days. He'd prefer if the princess did the same, given the influx of attacks recently. But, well, you know how she is."

Something about Sir Link's smile didn't sit right with Zelda, a twisting knot in her stomach. "Yeah, but I'm sure the king will forgive me for taking her away from her duties for a while."

Their horses clopped along the bridge, metal shoes on shining stone, leaving hoofprints of mud that would eventually rinse out with the rain through slots in the railing. The closer they got to the Domain, the more Sir Link leaned in, as if he could hardly wait another moment to see it.

She took a breath, fixing her eyes on the real target: Vah Ruta. If she could convince Princess Mipha and her father to join the fight against the Calamity, to pilot the Divine Beast…she'd start to feel a little less useless.

Dismounting at the gate of the sparkling palace, Zelda stared in awe at the beauty that surrounded her. The Zora did not build strong walls of stone and iron. They didn't cut arrow slits, or mount cannons behind tall crenelations. Their Domain, like the rest of the province that King Dorephan oversaw, was as open and free as the wide blue sky. Zora of every color passed before her eyes; standing guard, running errands, displaying their wares, bringing in nets full of fish, their children splashing in the fountain pool.

And Sir Link, it seemed, knew them all by name. He greeted each warmly; he promised the children he would make time to play with them, inquired after the health of elderly parents, joked with the guards, and, by Zelda's estimation, spoke more in ten minutes among the Zora than he had the entire time he'd been with her so far.

Following Sir Link to the back of the Domain, where pools of water were filled with resting, injured warriors, the target of their quest shone with healing magic. Many Zora possessed such magic, and used it to great effect, but none possessed a greater ability, or brighter light, than their princess. Zelda inhaled sharply, her focus drawn to the rippling, pale blue light that emanated from Mipha's outstretched hands, enveloping an injured warrior. She wondered what it felt like, to have access to the magic of her birthright.

"Princess Mipha!" Zelda called, skirting along the edge of the circular pools. "Do you have a moment?"

Piscine eyes met hers, widening in surprise. Her magic faded, her hands dropping to her side. "Your Highness!" Mipha exclaimed. She hopped out of the healing pool, her webbed feet splashing onto the luminous floor. "I had no idea you were-" her eyes flickered over Zelda's shoulder. Several expressions flew by in a second - joy, alarm, annoyance - her sweet smile reappearing a moment later. "-that you were coming to the Domain. What can I do for you?"

As much as Zelda wanted to ask what she saw in Sir Link that caused such a flurry of reactions, she had a mission to carry out. "Well, as I'm sure you're aware, my father is searching for pilots for the Divine Beasts." She paused, waiting for Mipha to say anything more, yet the Zora princess's attention was once again drawn to the knight over Zelda's shoulder. "I wanted to know- that is- if you would be willing-"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, Sir Link is trying to hide a very obvious bruise. Can you give me a moment?" Mipha barely waited for Zelda's consent before bypassing her to reach Sir Link, who grinned like a tomcat caught with a pet canary. "What in Jabu's name did you do this time?" Though her tone was frustrated, her smiled betrayed her amusement. She raised a hand toward his cheek, which had grown far darker during the trek to the Domain.

"If you think this is bad, you should see how I left the other guy," Sir Link joked, his cheeky grin partially obscured by the glow of Princess Mipha's healing.

Her hand lingered a moment, her expression softening. "You know I have to tell you to be more careful."

"And you know I'm going to ignore that," Sir Link teased. He nodded toward Zelda. "I think you should hear Princess Zelda out. This might be exactly the opportunity you need to win your father's blessing for the crown."

"Oh?" Princess Mipha turned back toward Zelda, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Ah, yes, the Divine Beasts? I'm very sorry, Your Highness, I get very distracted when I see a problem which I can fix."

As offended as Zelda wanted to be, she couldn't fault the Zora princess for that. Her annoyance melted into empathy. "It's alright. I understand precisely what you mean." Taking the Sheikah Slate from her hip, Zelda swiped through the photos, eventually coming to the distant portrait of Vah Ruta peeking out from the surface of a deep blue lake. "I need a pilot for Vah Ruta, someone who not only understands the power of water and combat, but whose spirit is strong. You are my first choice." She smiled, all the more as Mipha examined the photo with great interest. "Would you be willing to try it?"

"Hm," Mipha hummed, tapping her chin with a clawed finger. "Well, if I can be of service to the Domain and to Hyrule, I will attempt this task." Before Zelda had a chance to thank her for her bravery, Mipha continued. "But I am not the only one whose consent you require. My father must approve."

Zelda's courage faltered, her smile sinking. "Ah, I see…" She lowered the Slate and clipped it back onto her hip. "Will you assist me in that?"

A sheepish smile grew on Mipha's face. "Respectfully, I do not think my presence will be much of an aid to you in this task. My father already thinks of me as small and fragile. I doubt he will be persuaded to release me from nursing duties if he compares us. You are quite a bit taller than me."

Slightly taken aback, Zelda considered Mipha's explanation, turning it over in her head to view from every angle. She hadn't noticed their difference in height before, but now that Mipha pointed it out, the gap was quite clear. Mentally, she compared her last recollection of the Zora princess with the woman who stood before her now - back then, Mipha was nearly a head taller. How strange it must be to see the rate at which Hylians grow!

"I see your point," Zelda agreed, "then I will speak to him. Impa, Sir Link, will you accompany me?"

Though Impa nodded quickly, Sir Link hesitated, trading a quick glance with Mipha. "Actually, Your Highness, I was going to request your permission to be relieved from duty for an hour or two. I haven't seen many of my friends since I've been in Central Hyrule."

"O-oh, yes, of course!" Zelda waved her hand to officially dismiss him, "Take your time, but do be back by sundown, if you're able."

Grinning as brightly as ever, Sir Link gave her a respectful bow. "I'll make every effort, Your Highness."

Hardly waiting a moment longer, Mipha set her small hand on Sir Link's arm, leading him away from the infirmary and back out into the Domain's plaza, sharing the latest gossip. "Did Trello tell you that his son is a guard now? Rivan is trying so hard to impress Seargent Seggins-"

---

Scorch marks burned across the mountainside, leftovers from Vah Ruta's rampage against the army that marched on the Domain. Bits of monster horns and teeth laid scattered on the land and in the water, soldiers and civilians picking up whatever they thought might be useful.

If she closed her eyes, she could still see Princess Mipha atop Vah Ruta, piloting the Beast as if she was always meant to be there. Step by step, breath for breath, the Beast moved with her. Icicles shot out at enemies with deadly precision. The beam of concentrated magic, so blue it was nearly black, annihilated everything in her path. If this was the power of even one Divine Beast, all four of them working together would certainly drive back the Calamity. They probably wouldn't even need her, in the end.

She held her breath as Princess Mipha stood before her father's throne. The Zora didn't tremble. Her hands didn't twitch. She'd disobeyed her father's direct orders, shirking her duties as a healer to launch herself into the battle. Princess Mipha's chest expanded as she breathed - calm. She looked upon her father without fear.

"You will become the pilot of the Divine Beast, Vah Ruta." King Dorephan's voice rumbled through the court, amplified by the vaulted ceiling. Unlike her father's court, the Zora king's words did not echo endlessly. He was heard once - clearly, loudly, but once. "On one condition," he said, rising from his throne. A mountain of a Zora, he towered over Mipha and every other Zora in the Domain - a stalwart of regal prudence and strength. "You must promise to come back safely."

Cold dread sank into Zelda's heart at his words, though Mipha assured him of her dedication to his request. Safely. With the danger set before them, and her sealing power yet to be awakened, a part of her wondered whether she was dooming the Zora princess to certain death. Well, she thought with some bitterness, if we don't succeed, she'd die whether she was a pilot or not.

With the appointment of Mipha as Vah Ruta's pilot complete, Zelda tried to make her heart calm. She followed the other princess to the side of the court, where Impa and Sir Link waited for them. Impa held out her hands toward her friend - a silent comfort that Zelda quickly took, letting her friend's gentle pressure ground her again.

Sir Link dipped his head in respect toward the Zora princess, grinning broadly. "For the record, I never doubted you for a second, Mipha."

Mipha. Zelda blinked at him. Her name. Just her name. Not 'your highness' or 'princess', just…Mipha. Her stomach flipped over itself, no longer feeling Impa's comfort the longer she watched them interact, as if oblivious to the rest of the world around them.

"You always did have so much optimism," she teased, raising her hand to his jaw, where a Lynel's arrow had grazed him earlier. Her hand began to glow, her healing magic undoing the damage. "Reckless optimism, I might add."

Even when the cut faded from his skin, her hand remained, softly cupping his face. And he, in turn, reached out to her, the gap between them closing by the moment. He smiled at her, laughing softly. "Would you love me any other way?"

No amount of grounding could have saved Zelda the mortification. Her blood simmered within her, leaving her body so full of sensation that she could no longer stand idly in the throne room. She released Impa's hand and escaped the Zora king's court as quickly as she could. As far as she could run while still being perceived as polite, that's where she would go. Up the winding stairs and to the bridge that connected the resplendent Domain with the cliff-side.

Water sprayed from the ever-tumbling waterfalls, gathering on her face. Cool mist mixed with hot tears. It wasn't until she got to the very end of the bridge that she noticed anyone else. The lavender Zora's paleness almost hid her entirely from Zelda's vision. And yet, Zelda did not escape the Zora guard's notice.

"Princess!" The Zora greeted, bowing slightly in respect. In each of her hands, she carried a bucket filled with blue stone chunks. "Thank you for all the help you and your companions gave to the Domain."

Swallowing hard, Zelda forced herself to smile despite the tempest in her chest that begged to release its deluge. "It was the least we could do. The Zora have been friends of the royal family for ages." Her throat tightened as she spoke. Friends. Mipha was her friend. As was Sir Link. Her friends. She tried to repeat that to herself. "What are you doing, by the way?"

When Zelda gestured to the buckets, the Zora at last noticed what had drawn her attention. "Oh! My unit is helping to clean up the Domain. A lot of stone was knocked loose, and that has to be cleared before reconstruction can begin. It's not glamorous work but-"

"Can I help?" Zelda asked. Maybe, if she sank her focus into something, anything else, she could forget her own foolishness.

---

Amongst the rubble and damage, Zelda should have been picking up the scraps like the rest of them. A dutiful princess would be with the people who needed help. She should be diverting her resources to assist the Zora as much as she could. And yet, in that moment, she wanted the Domain to burn.

She chastised herself for such thoughts, blinking away angry tears as she stooped down to pick up the pieces that the enemy had scattered. She didn't hate Princess Mipha. She didn't hate the Domain. She knew where all of her hatred should be directed.

She stomped the flower down, crushing it under her heel until it was nothing more than green pulp on gray stone. Stay dead, you loathsome creature.

Her chest ached. Her jaw clenched. She was being ridiculous. He'd given no indication- She'd been far too hasty in- Goddess, had she always been this stupid?!

The world around her blurred and cleared again, traitorous tears quickly caught by her sleeve before anyone noticed. With her back to them, to the Domain, she could at least try to dull the sharp sting of her ignorance and hateful infatuation.

Her knight. She scoffed, picking up another large chunk of luminous stone to set into the waiting basket. It glistened on the outside, but within, it was dark. The light hit the crystals all wrong, only small sparks where the glow of the moon should have been. Cracked. Worthless. She tossed it in with the others. It clacked into the dozens of pieces she'd already collected. Something, anything to make herself useful.

Her knight. How could she be so foolish? There was no way her father would let a young man travel alone with her and Impa without good reason. And there was a very good reason, far beyond just the swiftness of a small party.

That reason stood beside him in her father's court, linked her arm with his, and spoke softly as they walked toward the infirmary to tend to the wounded. Maybe King Dorephan would blame it on the shock of the battle. She'd rather not tell the reason's father why she blanched white as ocean foam in his court.

Her knight. She slammed the next chunk in; it shattered itself on impact. Sure, maybe he was, technically speaking. But with the promise he wore like a second skin, blue scales and silver armor, she was finally certain of one thing: he may have been her knight, but she was never his princess.

Chapter 5: Little Bird

Summary:

In the burning sands and frigid nights of the Gerudo Desert, the Princess of Hyrule finds wisdom in the words of the tempest.

The road from Eldin would have brought them over the northern edge of Hyrule, skirting the path between the Castle she dreaded and the forest that housed something she dreaded even more. When she suggested that they instead begin the western portion of their journey in the south, she heard no objection from her companions. The longer they could stay away from the frigid mountains of Hebra, the better.

Burning sands gleamed up at her, the shine hurting her eyes almost as much as the heat blazing against her skin. Even borrowing Impa's hat did little to assist with the oppressive warmth of the Gerudo Desert. It had been a very, very long time since she was last in this desert. She struggled to think of exactly when it was, but she had an estimate: her mother was still alive. The queen and the Gerudo Chieftainess were like sisters, or so her father said. He didn't talk about it much more than that.

Still, when Lady Urbosa came to the Castle, she brought a little joy to Zelda's life. Sparkling treasures and toys from the craftsvai of Gerudo Town were among her favorites, besides the savory spices she would bring with her. The cooks didn't know what to do with them, so Urbosa borrowed the kitchen, making delicacies just for her and her 'little bird'.

Zelda sucked in a breath through her nose, the sting of an old wound daring to rear its head again. Not quite a flower, but it could be stomped down all the same. It would die. It had to. If she let either of them grow, she would be even more useless than she already was.

Suddenly, Sir Link was in front of her. Right in front of her, actually, so much that she almost ran into him. She staggered, off-balance by the sudden stop after their quick pace across the dunes. "Sir Link, what-?"

"Shh," he hissed.

Well! She'd never been shushed by a knight before! Who did he think he was, telling her to be-?

His sword slid out of its sheath, reflecting the sun even more than the sand. His gaze remained fixed ahead. His ears twitched.

Beside her, Impa stiffened, her focus, too, now on something beyond Zelda's perception.

She held her breath, waiting for any explanation. Something had them spooked, had stopped both warriors in their tracks, and yet all she could perceive were the endless shifting sands and singing winds. "What do you-?"

"Shh!" They both hissed in unison.

Sir Link jumped first, his focus finally locking in on something. Before she could even make out the direction of his fear, he had already grabbed her hand, practically dragging her across the desert. "Sir Link-!"

"Shh!" Came the only reply she would get, until she heard the danger for herself.

"Was that the princess?" A sharp voice asked, carried on the wind. "Get her! Go!"

And then they were running, slipping through sand, hiding behind great slabs of sandstone, Gerudo spears at their backs. Cold fear twisted Zelda's gut. Urbosa wouldn't…she wouldn't do that. She wouldn't send her warriors to attack them. Urbosa wouldn't hurt her little bird…would she?

---

Swords clashed, metal ringing in Zelda's ears as she ran through the narrow alleys of Gerudo Town, the Sheikah Slate clutched to her chest and the little Guardian scuttling quick on her heels. Her heart pounded, her breath coming in hastened gasps. She rounded a corner, checking over her shoulder to be sure none of the Yiga were following her.

"Oof!" She stumbled back, having run full tilt into a solid wall. A wall of red that jumped back and raised a cruelly curved sickle above his head. "Ah!" She pointed her Slate at the blademaster, catching him in a glow of yellow light.

The blademaster froze, suspended in time for just a few brief seconds. Zelda scrolled through her runes, launching bombs as fast as she could, the percussive force building with every detonation. In so narrow a space between stone walls, the echo was deafening. She shook her head, but the ringing wouldn't stop.

When the stasis released, the blademaster flew, tumbling through the air and slamming hard into the far wall.

Still disoriented from the blasts, Zelda stumbled out into the bright desert, trying to escape the flood of red that invaded the once-safe town. Her boots slipped in loose sand, her feet unused to the balance of desert travel.

Light gleamed in the corner of her vision, a pop of scarlet. She whirled to face her adversary, her eyes widening to discover the arrow was already set loose. Her Slate didn't have the battery to stop it. All she could do was hope that it didn't strike her dead.

Metal clanged.

Zelda dared to open her eyes. Part of her expected to see the dutiful knight that had saved her from the Guardian's blast, once again quick on his feet to preserve her life. But, instead, she saw the broken arrow in the sand and her tiny, white egg of a companion scuttling after a very alarmed-looking Yiga archer, whistling in high-pitched tones of distress and fury. The…the little Guardian saved her? Zelda frowned at her Slate, swiping through the screens until she got to the log she kept on the Guardian's behavior. As selfless as a knight, and just as quick.

"Princess!" Impa called, racing out toward her from the western gate. "Are you alright?" A small scratch above Impa's eye started to bleed, a trickle of crimson.

"I- I'm fine." She stammered, trying to hide the tremor in her voice and hands. "What about the others?"

Impa's white hair whipped around as she glanced back over her shoulder. "Urbosa is cleaning out the square, and Sir Link-"

A shock of thunder rippled through the air, the concussive force rattling Zelda's bones. She clutched the Slate even tighter, her head spinning, the ringing in her ears louder still. Impa moved her mouth, her voice a thousand miles away and muffled by thick down. Run. What was she saying?

Run.

Run.

"RUN!" Impa's voice finally broke through Zelda's stupor. She grabbed Zelda's hand and dragged her through the sands. Struggling to keep pace with her, Zelda huffed and strained, her lungs aching with fear and exertion.

Another shock of thunder shook the air, farther from them. Zelda let out a yelp of fear as she pitched forward, her toes stuck in the loose sand and pulling the rest of her down.

Before she hit the ground, a firm pair of hands caught her. Metal armor clinked. Before she could blink, she was lifted into the air, held by her rescuer.

"Isn't she going to slow you down?!" Impa demanded, her voice distorted by the ringing and rush of blood in Zelda's ears.

"You wanna carry her?!" Her rescuer demanded, his strong arms shifting her weight to settle easier in his grip. It sounded like Sir Link. When she at last found the focus to look at the face of the one who kept her from tumbling into the burning sand, mortification flooded her senses.

As much as she wanted to object and declare that she could run perfectly well on her own, she allowed her pride to suffer a blow for the moment. One hand on the Slate, one arm around Sir Link's shoulders, she kept watch on the path ahead of them. Useless. Useless. Useless.

Her face burned. Saved by an egg. Saved by a knight. Deafened by her own bombs. What kind of a fighter was she?! She was more a liability than an asset to them, taking up Sir Link's attention when he could be fighting, she could be running to defend herself, or to hide, or to-

"Look out!" Impa shouted, drawing Zelda's attention straight ahead in their path, where a blademaster jumped up from behind a tall boulder and sprinted at them as fast as he could.

Her hands worked without a moment of thought. With as much precision as Impa's esoteric symbols, Zelda's fingers flew through the key inputs on the Slate. Almost as soon as she spotted the threat, a wall of ice surged from the burning ground. The blademaster's impact shattered the ice block, but the wall had its intended effect. The Yiga fell face-first into the sands, unmoving.

"Nice work, Princess!" Sir Link laughed, continuing their run toward the North Gerudo Ruins. His feet didn't stumble in the sand. "Think you can keep the Yiga at bay for me?"

Her eyes widened in shock at such a request, but she nodded. "Y-yes! I'll do what I can!" She scrolled through again, summoning a round bomb to her hand. The echo of thunder grew closer, Urbosa chasing the last of Yiga out of the town and toward the open desert. Her strikes made an awful lot of noise, and there were so many feet disturbing the sand beneath them. Her mind flew back to the last time Urbosa visited the Castle.

"I'm sure your father won't mind," Urbosa assured her, pushing another bench over into the clearing in the courtyard. Overturned flowerpots, stone and wooden benches, and a kicked-over wheelbarrow set up an odd sort of obstacle course among the bright green grass and fragrant rose bushes. "This kind of exercise is good for the body and mind." She hopped up onto the first bench, her heels clicking on stone. "Come on up, little bird, don't let the Molduga get you!"

Zelda lobbed the bomb as hard as she could. It soared through the air and burst against the burning sands, spooking some of the Yiga out of hiding. "Get onto the stone as quickly as you can!"

Not questioning her orders, her two bodyguards raced to the edge of the ruins, stopping only when they reached solid ground. When Sir Link finally set her down, she tried to push the echo of sensation away, focusing on the task ahead of her. She tossed another bomb, hardly caring where it landed, only that it made a magnificent noise.

"Uh, Princess, what are you doing?" Impa asked, watching her in bewilderment.

Another bomb left Zelda's hand right as the sands before them started to shift and bubble. A low growl rumbled through the ground. Hardly daring to believe it, the smallest hint of a grin spread across Zelda's lips. "Calling in some backup."

---

She felt a little bad leaving Sir Link outside the walls. Despite the guards providing him with shelter, food, and drink, it still felt awful to leave him out there after all he'd done for them. But, she held her tongue. It would do her no good to argue with a Gerudo about their most sacred law. She might as well try to argue the sun out of the sky.

Safe, their wounds tended to, Urbosa poured glasses of sweet juice into ice-filled glasses. When she'd filled hers, always serving others first, she took a seat across from Zelda at the small table. Impa sat between them, on the side of the small, square table. Zelda bit her tongue - it would not benefit her to point out the empty spot opposite Impa.

"How has your quest been so far, little bird?" Urbosa asked, picking up her drink. While Zelda wanted to inform Urbosa that she was, in fact, quite old enough to drink strong liquors, she thought better of pressing the issue. In a way, the taste of an Empty Pursuit was nostalgic, despite the unfortunate name.

A mix of voltfruit and hydromelon filled her senses, sweet and electrifying all at once. She took a single sip, though desperately wanted to chug the whole glass at once. "Well…" she cleared her throat, trying to formulate her thoughts. "We've successfully gathered two other pilots. Vah Ruta and Vah Rudania are in the beginning stages of readying themselves for the Calamity." Her nails tapped against the glass, condensation building against her fingertips.

Urbosa nodded, her green eyes seeming to pierce straight through Zelda. "That is very impressive. I'm proud of you, little bird." She took a sip of her juice, pausing. "I believe, then, you only have Vah Medoh left?"

Beside her, Impa answered. "We're not exactly looking forward to it. Neither of us really like the cold, so we'd like to get in and out of there as quickly as possible."

"Ah, the weather isn't the only thing that's cold," Urbosa remarked, smirking a little. "Have you had the…good fortune to meet the general of the Rito Tribe?"

Zelda shook her head. "Not yet, though I've heard much about him. Father says Master Revali is a very skilled warrior, and the Rito have never been more organized. He's an archer, I think?"

Urbosa conceded, raising her glass in acknowledgment. "Your information is good, little bird. I will admit that his skills with a bow are much more advanced than mine." Her smile fell as she brought the glass to her lips. "But that is all I will praise him for."

This seemed to catch Impa's attention, as she sat up straighter. "Do you and the Rito have some kind of feud?"

"Not exactly," Urbosa clarified. "I harbor no ill will toward him or his people. I would just caution you to not take too much offense at what he says. One can only assume he was hatched without manners or grace. If he says anything unkind to you, try to brush it off. His opinion matters very little to anyone with good sense."

Confusion ran through Zelda's mind at such a statement about another leader of Hyrule. She'd never known Urbosa to be anything but honest, of course. The Gerudo Chief did not care whose pride was shattered by her bluntness, but she was never unkind in her words. Startling, perhaps. Humbling, certainly. She thought more on her description of Master Revali. Perhaps such a mixture of unaffected bluntness and haughty conceit wouldn't be a very good mix to have on her team.

"Do you think I should choose someone else?" Zelda asked.

Urbosa merely shrugged. "Not necessarily. Revali is just another personality to deal with. But you, little bird, are the Princess of Hyrule. You outrank him. He wouldn't dare insult you, at least not intentionally. He knows just how easily Rito bones break compared to Hylians."

A shiver ran down Zelda's spine at such an assessment. "Right. Duly noted."

Leaning in, Impa frowned, her hands wrapped tightly around the glass she held. "I still can't get over how the Yiga impersonated you like that. Their boldness is staggering, even for traitors like them."

Urbosa nodded, sighing a little. "Yes, I wish I could say I was surprised by their actions, but they've been a thorn in my side for many years." She raised her glass toward Impa in acknowledgement. "I'm sure it can't be easy for you, little shadow. Your people have always been generous and trustworthy, in my experience. These traitors are the opposite of you in every conceivable way."

Impa scoffed, hiding her disdain behind her glass. "The masks are especially cowardly to me. A true warrior isn't afraid to show their face to the enemy."

A slow grin spread across Urbosa's face at Impa's words. "I can't agree more. Your courage is certainly admirable. Perhaps we can learn something from each other. Have you ever trained with scimitars?"

---

In the dead of night, the desert froze. Stars twinkled high overhead, galaxies unobscured by the screen of clouds that so frequently hovered over Central Hyrule. The cool wind played with Zelda's hair, still loose despite her being otherwise prepared for bed. She leaned out the window, resting her crossed arms on the windowsill.

The desert stretched on infinitely, or so it seemed. Sand and sky mixed into one giant blurred line of darkness. The world was almost silver in the moonlight.

Her fists clenched. She'd never hated silver so much before.

Behind her, a door softly creaked. A thin stream of orange light shone on the wall beside her, disappearing again as the door shut. Measured, light footsteps approached her.

"Little bird, it's very late," Urbosa chided. She stood by the window, setting a hand on Zelda's back. "Is something on your mind?"

Zelda took a shuddering breath. The world trembled and blurred. She blinked back the distorting water that threatened to spill over her cheeks. "I'm, ah, worried about him, out there." She pointed toward the small tent, the top of which was barely visible from her tall vantage point. Though the guards had tried to encourage him to take his rest at Kara Kara, even promising him an escort and their rupees to cover the room, he refused them. He remained, stubbornly, as close to Zelda as he could get. She tried not to hate him for it.

The winds picked up, carrying grains of fine silver through the town, brushing against her skin. Urbosa appeared wholly unbothered by this, joining Zelda in gazing out at the anomaly beyond the walls. "He's quite alright, I assure you. I've stationed a guard near him in case he needs anything. She has instructions to rouse him if the weather gets bad. He's permitted to take shelter in the sand seal shop, as it has a door to the outside and can be locked on the other."

As unfair and ridiculous as Zelda thought their rules were, she wouldn't speak against them now. They had no problem with Sir Link being inside the walls of the city when he was helping them beat back the red-clad traitors. Still, she couldn't help the way her hands clenched.

Ever vigilant, Urbosa noticed immediately. "Are you truly that worried about your knight that you can't sleep?"

A single drop of shame rolled down her cheek, caught by the heel of her palm as quickly as possible. Anger flared in her chest, burning far hotter than it had any right to for what was, admittedly, a small injustice. "He's not my knight," she said, trying to fight through the tightness in her voice.

Her tears did not go unnoticed by Urbosa, whose gentle, comforting hand on her back started to rub small circles. "He's assigned to you. If not yours, whose knight is he?"

Unable to spend another moment looking out at the cold and unfeeling night, Zelda pushed herself away from the window. Her bare feet padded across thick rugs, soft and warm underneath her. "…Princess Mipha's," she forced the name out through gritted teeth. "He's engaged to her, did you know that? I didn't. If I had, I wouldn't have-" her throat tightened beyond her ability to speak, all of her focus on holding back tears of shame and self-hatred. She turned entirely away from Urbosa, letting the few necessary tears fall where the Gerudo Champion couldn't see them. But, she doubted Urbosa couldn't hear the shaking breaths she took as she desperately tried to stop the flow. "How can I be so stupid and selfish?! He's engaged to someone else, and- and so am I! And yet I can't get him out of my head! I never want to see him again!" Her whole body seemed to shake, trembling from the weight of her repeated failures to kill every unsightly, useless part of herself.

"Little bird," Urbosa soothed, opening her arms wide. When Zelda hugged her tightly, clinging to her and hiding her ugly tears, Urbosa hugged her back. Her strong hands were ever gentle, stroking Zelda's hair and keeping her voice soft. "You are not the first to struggle with such a temptation, nor will you be the last. It is not a personal failing, and you are not stupid. You're young, and your heart is unattached. These things happen." When Zelda started to pull back, lifting her eyes to her mentor, Urbosa set her hand on Zelda's cheek, gently brushing away her tears. "You don't need to live your life in such extremes. It is far too easy to swing between love and hate. It takes wisdom to step outside of yourself and recognize the world for what it is."

Urbosa paused, her gaze drawn to the window, and the knight in the cold, once more. "He is a good voe," she continued. "And a skilled warrior. Extremely devoted to protecting you." She resumed stroking Zelda's hair, a soft smile on her lips. "Perhaps, rather than letting your emotions get the better of you one way or the other, you could try seeing him for what he is."

Zelda sniffled miserably, wiping away her still-falling tears. "And what is he, then?"

"A friend," Urbosa said, the word falling like cooling mist over a raging wildfire. "Just like Impa. She and Link are fiercely devoted to you. And, my little bird, you are just as devoted to them. The way you fought today, protecting your friends with that Slate, showed me how much you care about them." Even when Zelda at last let her arms fall entirely from Urbosa's waist, taking a step back and sniffling, Urbosa's smile never faltered. "Start there, at the beginning. See Link for what he is, not what you would rather him to be."

Slowly, Zelda took heavy breaths, trying to gather herself. The burn of shame still weighed on her chest, hot irons against her flesh. Nevertheless, she nodded. "I'll try, Urbosa." Beyond the walls of the town, the wind pushed on the top of Sir Link's tent, a tiny shelter against the unforgiving desert surrounding them. Cool air filled her lungs; her heartbeat, at last, slowed down. "I'll try."

 

Chapter 6: As Bad As It Looks

Summary:

The tundra of Hebra slows their progress on their way to speak to the potential Rito Champion. Their journey crashes to a halt when they wander straight into a Lizalfos ambush. One princess’s healing doesn’t equal another’s.

Notes:

Sorry for the delay. Posting this while waiting for the judge to call my client for trial. Today has been shit but at least there’s Zelink am I right?

 

Snow swirled around their legs, crunching through ice along the road to Rito Village. Evergreens creaked in the wind, needles mixing with flurries that fell from the gray sky. Her breath's cloud swept away in the frigid breeze. Her nose and ears tingled; her pockets and gloves did little to help her frozen fingers. By her side, the little Guardian's metal legs groaned, building up with frost.

She inhaled sharply, breathing in flakes of ice, and turned her gaze to the mountains still so far ahead of them. Somewhere above the thick clouds, the sun would be setting soon. What should have been half a day's journey from Tabantha Stable soon stretched into endless drudgery. The blizzard, unrelenting, beat down on their backs with every grueling mile.

Zelda squinted, trying to make out anything familiar in the haze of cascading white. She hadn't visited the Rito before, but she studied the maps in the Castle library enough times, and paid close attention to Urbosa's directions, that she was sure something ought to be recognizable. But, as she scanned the landscape, her heart sank. She couldn't hope to tell one peak from another. If not for the indention of cart tracks, though growing fainter by the hour, she might have assumed they'd left the trail entirely and wandered into the wilderness.

"Th-there's a light up ahead," Impa said, her teeth clicking together. She pointed toward the faintest speck of orange in the distance. "Maybe that's a camp?"

"Could be monsters," Sir Link said, frowning at the light, though by his squinting face, he could see it no better than the rest of them. "I'll scout ahead."

Zelda's heart lurched with every step he took away from the group. "Do not fight them alone!"

"I won't if I can help it," he assured her. With a nod of farewell, he quickened his pace, trudging through the snow directly toward the light, ignoring the marked road. She watched him until his shadow disappared into the thick haze, vanishing into the storm.

The few elixirs they'd brought with them were hardly sufficient, the warmth in their blood struggling against the fierce and howling wind. Though they'd managed to pluck a few peppers along their path, those would do almost nothing for them until they found a means of cooking them to release the heat within. As much as Zelda loathed anything very spicy, she would tolerate it if it meant they wouldn't all become ice themselves before they reached the Rito.

She shivered, hugging herself as she and Impa continued along the path. Not many Rito had occassion to visit the Castle. Those that did were mostly in the employ of the postal service - quick fliers tasked with delivering urgent messages and news. For as long as she could remember, she'd loved watching them take off from the decks at the top of the towers, their bags laden with information and parcels. The few feathers they'd left behind were colorful, fluffy, and warm. Rito down lined most of her winter clothes and the thick quilt that blanketed her bed in the colder months. Wool was fine enough for most occassions, but nothing held heat quite so well as down. Considering this, Zelda could easily see why no other tribe in Hyrule had tried to lay claim to this inhospitable territory.

Clashing metal rang out through the muffling haze, the sound making Zelda's hair stand on end. A squeal soon followed - the death howl of a Lizalfos.

"Impa!" Zelda gasped, turning to her friend in alarm. "Link's in trouble!"

Anxiety coursed through her veins as she quickened her pace, her eyes searching for any sign of the battle. The faintest squeals and howls muddled together in the wind, confusing the direction. The light, which had at once seemed so bright a beacon, flickered.

"Can you run ahead and help him?!" Zelda begged her friend, her chest aching with every breath of snowflakes.

"And leave you unprotected?" Impa scoffed. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I can't risk that. Even for him."

Anger boiled in her gut, fueling her resolve to get to Sir Link as fast as possible. "There has to be some way-!"

Wood creaked and snapped beside them, a branch crashing down onto the hard-packed snow. Splinters broke off, sliding along the thin layer of ice, down the slight slope toward the orange light.

"Hold my hand," Zelda ordered, already taking the Slate from her hip.

"Your Highness, what are you-?"

Sheikah blue burst beneath them, a column of enchanted ice lifting them into the air. Impa yelped in surprise, clinging to Zelda on one side. The little Guardian let out a whistle, almost mirroring Impa's shriek, and wrapped its legs around Zelda's ankle. The ice groaned, sliding just an inch down the hill.

Zelda pointed the Slate downward, catching the column in Stasis, and kicked the side opposite the light with the back of her heel, like she would a horse's flank to signal a faster pace. After a few hard kicks, Zelda crouched as low to the surface of the ice column as she could, gripping the other side in preparation. "Hold on to me."

In a flash, Stasis broke and released all of Zelda's potential energy at once. The column creaked and slid, faster and faster, picking up speed as the slope declined. The sounds of battle grew louder, and eventually the flash of white ice magic burst in front of them, twinkling sparks. Lizalfos hissed and circled the light, now revealed to be a campfire in front of a small wooden cabin. And in the center of the monsters, frost clinging to his hair and icicles dripping from his armor, was her knight.

The ice column shuddered beneath them, giving just a moment's warning before the magic shattered. Zelda leapt from the top, her boot leaving the ice a split-second before it lost form. In her mind's eye, she saw Sir Link's quick aim, a volley of arrows launched as he dropped toward the ground. Zelda would never be that quick, or as accurate. But, she didn't need to be. Bombs cared very little about accuracy.

Magic burst, percussive force knocking away half a dozen Lizalfos, some hissing with pain, others hissing with dark steam, their malevolence evaporating into the wind. Beside her knight and her friend once again, Zelda joined the fray. Though she lacked a weapon, she fought as fiercely as she could, stopping enemies in their tracks with Stasis and throwing the Lizalfos' sharp weapons back at them with Magnesis.

When the last monster squealed in death, Zelda's arms trembled, clutching the Slate close to her chest. The adrenaline slowly faded, her heartrate slowing, only to spike again when she heard Sir Link's sharp inhale through gritted teeth.

Scarlet bloomed through the cloth barely visible between pauldron and bracer.

"You're hurt!" Zelda exclaimed.

"It's fine," Sir Link groaned, pressing his other hand to the wound. "They just scratched me."

Zelda shook her head, all of her anxiety rushing back at once. "That's more than a scratch, Sir Link!" Though the firelight had nearly gone out, the promise of shelter remained in the icicle-coated cabin. The door crunched as she pushed it open, frost sticking wood to wood. "At least let us help."

A bit reluctantly, Sir Link followed her inside.

Darkness shrouded most of the cabin, illuminated only by the faint glow of the Slate's screen and the fading light through the open door. Firm shutters covered the windows, rattling but resolute in the merciless wind. Some kind of beast skin covered the floor, dark and wirey fur providing some insulation from the wooden floor. Across from the door, a small fireplace, set into the wall, rose toward the peaked ceiling in a tower of pale bricks. Mostly soot and ash remained within the grate. A block of flint and striking steel sat on a shelf above iron tools and a small broom, hanging on hooks. The single pitiful, half-burned log in the hearth wouldn't provide much for them for very long, and she doubted it would catch from sparks alone.

"We need firewood," Zelda decided. She squinted into the darkness, hoping whoever last occupied this cabin had left a stack somewhere within, but she found none. The cabin, while sturdy enough, was sparse. A table with two chairs, a single bed, and a handful of half-empty barrels were all that this shelter could boast. Scratches littered the floor, deep claw marks no doubt left by the monsters who pilfered what might have once been here. She could only hope that this was a traveler's rest and not a home - she didn't want to imagine what might have happened to the residents.

Impa nodded. "I'll get some. Do you see an axe in here?"

Looking around, Sir Link searched the area, at last nodding toward the table. "There's a hatchet over there."

Taking the weapon, Impa weighed it in her hand, frowning. "Not ideal, but it will chop wood better than a sword." She glanced down at the little Guardian. "I don't suppose you've got an axe?"

The egg cracked, its top half raising slightly. A mechanical arm folded out from the small crack. Blue burst to life along the extended arm, forming the shape of a battle axe - a very small one.

For several seconds, no one dared to breathe, too stunned by the Guardian's revelation to string much thought together. The Guardian whistled, its piston popping up and down, and scuttled out of the cabin. Once it hit the snow, it turned back and whistled again, higher in pitch.

"…Well, alright then," Impa said, following the little Guardian outside. "Have you always been able to do that?"

The Guardian whistled affirmatively as the door shut behind them, leaving Zelda in the darkness.

After a few moments of silence, Sir Link let out a tense breath. "That thing's weird, Your Highness."

Zelda frowned, taking out her Slate to begin typing more notes on the little Gaurdian's ever-growing page. "I cannot disagree with your analysis, Sir Link." When she input her new notes to her liking, she turned up the brightness on the screen as high as it would go - which was, admittedly, not much brighter than a candle - and set it on the table.

In the dim blue light, the dark scarlet wound looked almost black. The same darkness stained Sir Link's gloves where he'd tried to hold pressure. Though he tried his best not to show it, his tense jaw betrayed how badly the strike hurt.

"Let me help you dress that wound," Zelda offered, taking her satchel off her shoulder. She set it on the table, moving some of her belongings around to get to her small medical kit. A vial of oil and a small bottle of strong wine, while useful enough in preventing immediate infection, would hardly be sufficient in the long term. She made a note to buy something more substantial the next time she found a market. When she'd finished setting her supplies aside, she turned back to Sir Link, who hadn't moved at all from his place. She set her hands on her hips. "Sir Link."

Her knight shook his head, still clutching the wound on his arm. "Princess, I appreciate the offer, but I can do it myself."

Frustration sparked in her chest at his words. "I'm perfectly capable of dressing a wound, Sir Link. I've been trained in basic medicine."

Again, Sir Link remained firm. He turned his face away, gritting his teeth slightly. "I- it's not that I don't believe you're capable, Your Highness. It's just…" he winced, quickly giving up on trying to bend his arm at all. "It's beneath you."

She couldn't stop the incredulous huff, hardly believing what she was hearing from him. "Beneath me?" She spread her arms, gesturing to the empty cabin around them. "Unless you see a physician or servant here, I'm all you've got. I hardly think taking care of my friends is that far outside the realm of my duties."

When she stepped toward him, she half-expected him to run from her out into the snow. She had no idea whose pride he thought he was saving. Such matters hardly concerned her. But when he didn't flee, she set to work undoing his pauldron, unbuckling the strap from his arm.

He didn't complain, only clenched his teeth harder when she had to move his arm at all to get his armor off. But, when she got down to the gambison, she stopped, frowning. "I don't suppose those sleeves roll up very well, do they?"

He shook his head.

Skies, this was going to get more complicated. With a sigh, she resigned herself to the awkwardness of the situation. "Very well. We'll have to take it all off."

Even in the blue sheen of the Slate's light, Sir Link's face reddened noticably. "Y-your Highness!" He took a step back, wincing again. "I'll be fine, really. I'll wait for Impa to come back."

Frustration burned hotter. "Because I'm a princess, is that it?"

He nodded, taking another step back toward the unlit hearth.

"And Mipha isn't?" Zelda snapped.

If she didn't know any better, she might have thought she saw a different pain in his expression, though it faded as quickly as it appeared. "Mipha's different."

"Sir Link, you're being ridiculous," she chided. "So I can't magically heal you like a Zora. Fine. But Princess Mipha is on the other side of Hyrule right now. All you've got is me. I'm sorry that I'm not good enough for you but-"

"It's not that," he said quickly, still averting his gaze from her. "I- I'm engaged to Princess Mipha."

An old thorn dug into Zelda's flesh. She straightened, refusing to let the injury aggrivate her. "I'm aware."

He shifted uncomfortably. "She- ah, that is…" He took a breath, his face somehow even redder now. "I'm not concerned for Mipha's honor."

Zelda stopped, her eyes widening. A similiar blush crept over her cheeks. "O-oh. I see." She looked down at the vials in her hands, so small and insignificant, hardly sufficient for the task at hand. Wine to clean, oil to seal. A remedy for physical damage. And yet, he was more concerned with reputational injury. Chivalry would kill him in the end.

She looked back at Sir Link, her resolve hardening. "Well, I don't care about my honor. In case you haven't noticed, there's no one here to gossip. I know what my purpose is for helping you, and I suspect Impa will have no inclination to spread rumors." Pausing, she considered what a potential rumor might do to her reputation, if such were to exist. "Besides, there's very little left to be said of me that's more damaging than being the 'heir to a throne of nothing.'"

At this, Sir Link finally met her eyes. That same electric blue that first fascinated her, now magnified in the artificial light of the Slate, sent a shiver down her spine. There was a pain behind his expression. She told herself it was his own injury that caused it. "Why would someone say that about you?"

Why? She could almost laugh at so ridiculous a question. Was he truly the only person in Hyrule who hadn't heard of her complete failure to unlock her powers? And yet, when she examined his genuine expression, she could find no hint of deciept or exageration in his features. As always, her knight was forthcoming.

Now wasn't the time to get into it. "Nevermind that. My point stands. There's no harm to be done to me by assisting you, but some harm may come to you if you disallow me. I don't even want to think of what could have been on that Lizalfos's claw."

Sir Link cringed. "That's…that's fair." Reluctantly, he sighed. "Fine. I, uh, can't get my armor off myself anyway."

At last given permission to help, Zelda set back to work. Having done one side already, the other was less troublesome. Piece by piece, she laid his armor on the table. The curved metal sent strange reflections of blue around the room, slivers and half-moons of light and shadow. When the last of his outer armor was removed, the greater challenge remained.

Zelda took a step back, considering the puzzle. While she had no doubt that he could bend his arm if he needed to, she'd prefer not to cause him any more pain than necessary. And as cutting it was simply out of the question, one solution remained. "Arms up."

He hesitated a moment, giving her a questioning look, but obeyed nonetheless. With her help, he shimmied out of the thick cloth armor. Part of the wool had started to leak from the blood-stained gash in the fabric. Assuming he didn't also think that mending was beneath her, she would assist him with that as well before they moved on in the morning.

With the gambeson removed, she bid Link to sit on one of the creaky chairs by the table. Now freed from the thickest material and armor, Zelda could roll up what remained of his undersleeve. Her palms brushed over the muscles in his arms, pushing the fabric back until she could reach the wound without obstruction.

The gash wasn't as bad as the bleeding had implied, mostly superficial, but it dug into the crook of his elbow. At the slightest movement, the wound would stretch and whatever meager clotting that began would break again. How had he continued to fight after they dealt this blow? She frowned.

"Is it that bad?" Sir Link asked.

"Well, no," Zelda decided. She reached for her canteen. Though there wasn't much in the way of comfort or equipment in the cabin, there were rags left in what might have been a bucket for cleaning. She grabbed the one that appeared the least contaminated, wet it, and started to clean the drying blood from around the wound. "My concern is that your continuning to use this arm after the cut might have caused more damage. I'm actually surprised you could still fight at all."

"I didn't notice," Link admitted. He kept looking at her work and turning away, as if equally fascinated and unsettled. "When I'm fighting, I don't tend to notice injuries until much la- shit!" He jerked away as soon as the first drop of wine hit him.

"Sorry!" Zelda bit her lip, letting him take a moment to gather himself.

"No, no, it's fine," he grunted, holding out his arm again. "It just stung."

"It's alcohol."

"Yeah," Sir Link frowned, turning his gaze from the injury. Evidently, his fascination had dried up. "I know. I just forgot how much it hurt."

As horrible as the circumstances were, Zelda found an odd humor to it. She poured part of the wine onto her rag, diluting it with water. "You run into battle without flinching, blocking deadly strikes and repelling fierce blows, and alcohol is the thing that makes you wince?"

Proving her point, Sir Link grit his teeth, deliberately turning as far from her as he could. "It's different."

She kept the humor of it to herself as she finished cleaning the wound. When she was satisfied with her work, she poured a drizzle of oil onto his skin, sealing the gash. She had only a small roll of gauze, and it took nearly the whole thing to wrap his arm tightly. However, when she was finished, she felt a strange sense of accomlishment. "Well then. My apologies for not being Princess Mipha."

With the torture complete, Sir Link inhaled slowly, letting out his breath deliberately to distract himself from the pain. "I wouldn't want you to be her," he admitted, the words striking Zelda square in the chest. "You're you. Mipha's adept at healing, that's true. But you're good at other things."

Zelda raised a brow. Who in their right mind would call her good at anything? She couldn't even do the one thing she was born for. Still, her curiosity demanded satisfaction. "Like what?"

"You're smart, for one." Despite the obvious pain, he smiled a little. "You think quickly. When you look at a problem, you don't throw up your hands and walk away. You solve it. The way you summoned the Molduga to fight the Yiga for us? That was brilliant!" He winced again, inadvertently shifting his arm. "And that thing you did with the ice? I never would have thought of that."

Surprised, Zelda sat up a little straighter. "Oh. Well, that wasn't anything special, really. I needed to get to you fast, and I saw how quickly pieces of wood slid over the surface of the snow. So, logically, I made an ice block that could mimic that effect and bring us down the hill quickly to you." She shrugged. "Anyone could have done that."

"No, Zelda, they couldn't," Sir Link said. His expression rapidly shifted into mortification, realizing his mistake. "I- I mean, Princess!"

She laughed, more amused than offended. "I don't care what you call me, Sir Link. You can call me Zelda. I really don't mind."

His blush returned with a vengence, averting his gaze again. "It's not proper."

"So?" Zelda started packing up her supplies, or at least what was left of them. "Neither is being alone with a man. But if you don't mean anything by it, then neither do I."

Unsure, Sir Link flexed his hand, focusing on anything other than his embarassment. "You deserve more respect than that."

A softer laugh, sadder, escaped her. "There are some who would disagree. But thank you." She slipped the last of her supplies back into her bag. "For what it's worth, there aren't many people in this world who call me 'Zelda.' I'm lucky if my own father remembers that I have a name. It's…nice, to hear it."

Slowly, he lifted his gaze back to her, his expression troubled. At so close a range, bright blue struck her as keenly as a Guardian's blast. Despite all of her reason telling her otherwise, that she was walking straight into danger, she couldn't tear herself away.

"Then, I'll call you Zelda," he decided. "But you have to call me 'Link.'"

His words surprised her, almost breaking her from the trance. "What?"

"I refuse to hold more respect than you. If I drop your title, you drop mine."

Something in the earnestness of his tone embedded itself in her heart. The mystery continued by the day. Against all reason, all pride, all self-preservation, he spoke and acted with conviction. She could not deny him such a request. "Very well, Link."

To her amazement, even such a simple alteration made him smile. For a moment, without titles between them, she could imagine that they were anything other than princess and knight. Though they didn't have nearly the history that she shared with Impa, something about him set her at ease. As protected as she felt when he defended her with sword and shield, she knew that her name would be just as safe in his care.

Though he couldn't move his arm much at all, he shifted just enough to take her hand in his. "I don't know what people have said about you, and I don't care. You're not the heir to nothing, Zelda. You're the Princess of Hyrule. You're doing everything in your power to protect your people." His grip tightened, a gentle pressure. "And I'm going to stand beside you every step of the way."

Her mind raced at such a statement, her thoughts spinning as her heart beat faster. Stupid girl, selfish girl, let it go. She chided herself over and over, trying to force herself to watch anything but the way his lips moved when he spoke, to focus on anything other than how his hand felt in hers, to do anything but lean closer. Stupid, selfish, arrogant. Her heart pounded, struggling against herself. He doesn't love you. Don't you dare love him.

And yet, some foolish part of herself, some stubborn weed that never quite died, saw him lean toward her in return.

"I've got the firewood!"

In a flash, Zelda sprang to her feet. "Ah, wonderful! Thank you, Impa!"

The little Guardian followed Impa inside, a chunk of firewood carried in the crack of its shell. It whistled happily, marching straight over to the hearth to throw it in.

Impa followed suit, setting her armful of split logs beside the fire tools. "Oh, good, you've wrapped his wound. I guess it wasn't as bad as it looked?"

"No," Link answered. The dim blue light hid the flush on his face. "It never is."

Chapter 7: Slippery Slope

Summary:

Impa held out her hand as she started to slide down the other side of the hill, keeping Zelda balanced on the slippery slope. "This isn't a game, Zel. You have duties to your kingdom. Don't throw that aside for the sake of some fantasy."

Shame ignited, a blazing anger that threatened to burn her from the inside out. She shot Impa a scathing glare. "You sound like my father." At the bottom of the hill, the knight's tracks had started to fill with new snow, obscuring their path forward.

"He's not always wrong," Impa said. "He has the kingdom's best interests at heart." Back on even ground, Impa still didn't let go of Zelda's hand. Her friend's thin fingers didn't hold nearly as much warmth as Link's had. "And I have yours."

Notes:

no thoughts. got I'm Gonna Hecking Die Disease: tummy hurt bit too much for bit too long.

When morning came again, the blizzard had picked back up. Snow drifted through a crack between the shutters. She pulled the borrowed blanket tighter around herself, taking in the last bit of warmth before they went out again. "We might take this as a bad omen," she sighed.

Impa shrugged, slipping her armor on and tying it snug. "I don't believe in that kind of thing. Anything short of fire raining from the sky is just the weather being the weather." She turned toward Link, who was struggling to buckle his breastplate. "You sure you want to check out the village today? We can probably make it to the Snowfields Stable by nightfall and get you some proper rest and treatment there."

"I'm fine," Link forced out through gritted teeth. One-handed, he tugged at the leather straps, one side evading the other.

Unable to watch him struggle any longer, Zelda gently pushed his hand away. As easily as the armor had come off the night before, the difficulty of re-buckling the straps surprised her. But, one by one, she secured each piece into place. When she'd adjusted the final strap around his bracer, she took a step back to examine her work. Amazingly, none of it was on backwards. "How's that?"

Link nodded to her, examining the finished work himself. "Adequate," he decided. His judgment would have offended her, if not for the teasing gleam in his eye and the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth.

When Zelda returned the smile, she caught Impa's raised eyebrow in the corner of her vision. Pointedly ignoring that for now, she cleared her throat. "Well, then I suppose we should be off to Rito Village."

Steeling themselves, Impa pushed open the door. The howling winds made them all shiver. As mediocre as the scant blankets and wiry rug were, they were still preferable to a storm. Nevertheless, they unstoppered their elixirs and raised them as a toast. "To reaching Rito Village," Zelda said.

"Or freezing to death trying," Link added.

---

By midday, the blizzard had let up. Instead of howling, the wind only whined. Between tall trees and through snowy passageways in the mountains, they continued on their way. But, when they came to what should have been a bridge along the road, all they found was a canyon.

Impa peered over the edge, barely daring to lean over it. "Damn. That was the only road I knew of."

Despair flooded Zelda's heart. "I see." She bit her lip, looking around for any sign of other options. "There must be something else. Even an animal trail would be sufficient. I doubt the wolves and moose were using this bridge as their only crossing."

Taking her reasoning, Link started toward the hill nearest them, climbing to the top and scanning the area. "I think I see something, but it's a ways off. I'll scout ahead."

"Absolutely not," Zelda decided. "That's how you got hurt yesterday. You're not going anywhere alone. Impa, why don't you-?"

"And leave you alone?" Impa scoffed. "No way, Princess."

Another obstacle, as debilitating as a shattered bridge. She thought for a moment, taking in the situation. Link couldn't go alone. She wouldn't want Impa going alone for the same reason. They were safer if they traveled in pairs, but with only three of them-

At her feet, the little Guardian whistled for her attention. It raised a claw, bouncing on its remaining legs like a child desperate to be called on by its instructor.

That could work.

"Take the Guardian with you," Zelda ordered. "We know its got an axe, at least."

With her permission, the Guardian scuttled up the hill to join Link. When it stopped in front of him, it raised its claw again in a sort of salute. Zelda fought hard not to laugh, not knowing whether the Guardian's salute or Link's befuddlement was funnier. Taking her orders to heart, the knight and Guardian slid down the other side of the hill and out of Zelda's sight.

"Well," Zelda sighed, her breath a warm cloud, "they will be quicker than us and should have no trouble clearing the way of any mons- why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why were you looking at him like that?" Impa countered, setting her hands on her hips.

Despite the chill in the air, hot shame burned up the back of Zelda's neck. "I seem to recall someone saying that a crush was a good distraction."

"Sure, but that was before we knew about Princess Mipha!" Impa reasoned. After giving Link a little more time, she started up the same hill he had climbed, helping Zelda along with her. "You have to know you're playing with fire, Zel."

She'd rather be playing with fire than be ankle-deep in the snow. She tugged up the collar of her coat, trying to hide the flush over her cheeks. "I do know that, Impa. Believe me, I'm keenly aware of it." Down in the valley, the gleam of Link's armor shone. Tracks of displaced snow followed him - footsteps and one long, shuffling trench. "It's not like anything will ever come of it. Link is engaged to Mipha. And eventually someone will draw the sword, and that will be the end of it." Though she spoke the words, she couldn't force herself to believe them. No one else had been as kind to her as Link, or quite so devoted to his station. He was the only person who didn't see her as a failed savior. Even if- even when she married someone else, she doubted she could wholly abandon her affection for him, as dangerous and irresponsible as it was.

Impa held out her hand as she started to slide down the other side of the hill, keeping Zelda balanced on the slippery slope. "This isn't a game, Zel. You have duties to your kingdom. Don't throw that aside for the sake of some fantasy."

Shame ignited, a blazing anger that threatened to burn her from the inside out. She shot Impa a scathing glare. "You sound like my father." At the bottom of the hill, the knight's tracks had started to fill with new snow, obscuring their path forward.

"He's not always wrong," Impa said. "He has the kingdom's best interests at heart." Back on even ground, Impa still didn't let go of Zelda's hand. Her friend's thin fingers didn't hold nearly as much warmth as Link's had. "And I have yours."

As much as Zelda wanted to tear her hand away from Impa's, she couldn't force herself to do it. Cold stung her cheeks, drops of ice quickly wiped away by the back of her glove. "I know," Zelda replied, the words as hollow to her as the gaping chasm in her chest, cracking wider when she tried to ignore it.

Thunder shook the mountain.

Zelda's attention snapped toward the sky. The gray clouds were just as snow-laden as before. The wind didn't blow as harshly as in the night. Sunlight peeked between gaps in the blanket. Lightning shouldn't accompany a weaker blizzard.

Two more shocks echoed ahead of them, followed by another. Another.

"Bombs," Zelda gasped, her blood running cold. "Something's throwing bombs at him!"

Impa released Zelda's hand, bounding up to the top of the nearest hill. Zelda tried not to envy her friend's quickness. "It's Rito!" She shouted back down. "Rito archers are firing bomb arrows!"

"What?! Why?!" Zelda scrambled as fast as she could up the hill. "First the Gerudo attack us, now the Rito?!"

Impa made a vague noise of bewilderment and shock. "He's far ahead of us now. We'll never catch up with him."

"You can."

Startled, Impa choked on her breath. "Me?"

"You have to, Impa!" Zelda pleaded. "I know you don't want to leave me unprotected, but I'll be okay! I've got the Sheikah Slate. I can protect myself, at least for a little while. He can't. Not against a Rito hunting party." She grabbed her friend's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Please, Impa. He'd do the same for you."

Searching Zelda's eyes, Impa weighed her options, her pale lips slightly parted. Eventually, Impa sighed in frustration. "Fine. But if you die, I'm going to kill you."

The smallest hint of a smile expressed Zelda's relief. "Thank you."

Not wasting a moment more, Impa slid partially down the hill, launched herself to the next, and disappeared into the falling snow.

---

She'd prayed before. She'd prayed endlessly in front of Hylia in the cathedral. Begging, pleading with the goddess to bestow even a drop of her divinity upon her descendant. Silence was the only reply she ever got. Stone never answered.

She had no reason to believe her prayers would be answered now, but she had nothing else to offer. She wasn't quick like a Sheikah, or strong like a knight, or useful like the little Guardian. She certainly couldn't soar like a Rito. All she had were her prayers, desperately whispered with every puff of warmth from her chest.

Percussive blows rumbled, echoing off the mountainsides, disturbing sheets of snow and ice. More than once she barely dodged out of the way of such an avalanche, freezing terror in her veins. Scattered feathers and drops of crimson littered the path which her knight had carved through the wilderness. Craters of rock and mud dotted the landscape, evidence of each assault. Her vision blurred, searching desperately for the glint of metal in the snow and rock, some hint of where he could have fallen - she tried to tell herself that the lack of evidence was assurance that he still lived, and not a suggestion that he was buried already. Her stomach churned, her lungs burned, and every step drew her higher into the dizzying peaks. Each breath struggled to reach her blood, the cold and thin air stealing more than it gave until her legs could barely hold her.

Something caught the sunlight, sharper than the glare of snow. Her stomach dropped. "No…" She ran faster, stumbling through loose stone and slippery ice. "No, no, no, no!"

There was no mistaking the shine of metal, barely peeking through the snow. Her mind whirled. He was dead. Buried. Suffocated or blown to pieces or cut down with swords or pierced with arrows or- She shook her head, trying to stop her racing thoughts. No, she wouldn't drive herself mad this way.

Dead or, somehow, still alive, she wouldn't leave him buried in Hebra. But, she'd never be able to dig him out in time, if he was buried and suffocating under an avalanche. She unclipped the Slate, slammed the Magnesis rune, and pointed it at the only visible metal she could see. With a forceful jerk, the buried mass flew.

Flew, whistled, smacked into the ground, and started to roll back down the mountain, metal and stone pieces clacking.

Zelda's jaw dropped, too stunned to react right away. When her senses returned, she chased after the little Guardian, sliding and scraping her way into the narrow valley. Her hands and legs stung, slowing her descent by grasping at ice. She hadn't any idea what effect her efforts produced, only that when she finally caught up to the disoriented Guardian, small flecks of blood peeked through her scraped palms and shredded gloves. But that hardly concerned her.

"Where are the others?" She gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Are they alive?!"

An affirmative whistle settled her fears. But when the Guardian looked around, left and right, it appeared no surer than she was of their location in the seemingly endless mass of white. It let out a series of tones, almost sadly, then started scuttling away.

"Wait!" Zelda called, giving chase again. "Wait for me!"

Rounding the bend of the trail, she skidded to an abrupt halt. Drops of scarlet dyed the snow, leading toward a snapped spear and a broad-feathered Rito captain.

Her heart slammed against the walls of her chest. Even without weapons, the Rito had a beak and claws and powerful gusts of wind. When the captain's raptor-gold eyes locked on her, sheer terror shot down her spine. She raised her Slate, summoned a bomb, and held it aloft. "S-stay back, in the name of Hyrule!"

Rather than attack, the captain just watched her, confusion ruffling his feathers. "Princess Zelda?" He slowly rose to his feet, grunting with the effort. Scarlet dyed his tawny feathers, scattered so much that Zelda couldn't tell from where the original injury stemmed. "What are you doing here?" His gaze dropped to the Guardian at her side, his neck feathers ruffling. "Why do you have that?!"

He…wasn't attacking her? She dismissed the bomb, lowering her Slate. "It's my, um, companion? It's harmless, really." To prove her point, she picked the little Guardian up and held it like an oversized toddler. She tightened and adjusted her grip, warm blood making the Guardian's rounded surface slippery in her hands. "My retainer and I are on our way to meet with Master Revali. We sent a knight ahead of us to clear the area of monsters. Have you seen him?"

The Rito clacked his beak in thought, his scrutinizing gaze never leaving the Guardian. "Flax-haired, shiny armor? Little Sheikah girl with him?"

"Yes!" Zelda exclaimed, her heart lightening. "Where are they now?"

The captain's feathers fluffed out and flattened again. "Stormwind's hull… Master Revali has already flown to meet them."

"Oh! That's wonderful! I'm sure Master Revali will underst-!"

"He took enough bombs to flatten a mountain's peak," the captain interrupted.

The blizzard's frost chilled her to her marrow. "Skies, I've got to get to them before they hurt each other!" Zelda again adjusted her grip on the Guardian and started sprinting as fast she she could toward the sounds of battle.

"Princess, we took out the bridge! You'll never reach them in time by land," the captain called after her.

Too slow. Too useless. Her friends were going to get hurt because she wasn't good enough! Tears stung her eyes. Her lungs ached with cold. "I've got to try!"

A rush of wind burst around her. Strong talons grabbed her shoulders, yanking her into the air as the ground sank far beneath her. A shriek of terror ripped through her chest, fighting against the sudden abduction. The Guardian whistled high and long, its legs wiggling wildly.

"Quit squirming!" The captain snapped down at her, his great wings beating the air. The trail twisted and doubled back far below - the path far shorter as a Rito flies. "Our tribe was beset by waves of monsters led by a creature much like yours. Our scouts saw your knight with it and we were tasked with taking him out." Squawking in disbelief, the captain started his descent. "He packs a hell of a punch."

As flattered as she was sure Link would be to hear such a statement, he had to be alive long enough to appreciate it.

Bombs burst and arrows whizzed. Metal clanged, armor smacking hard into ice and stone. As soon as Zelda's boots hit solid ground, she dropped the Guardian and started running.

Smoke and confusion marred the battlefield. Blue streaked high into the air, shooting three bombs at once. She caught only a glimpse of Link raising his shield before he was lost to the smoke again.

"Stop!" Zelda shouted, tripping over her feet as she tried to run faster, faster. "Link! Impa! Master Revali!" The wind snatched her voice, carrying it away from the fight that raged in front of her.

Revali soared high again, flipping in the air and aiming a deadly arrow straight at the back of Link's neck.

"STOP, PLEASE!" Zelda screamed, all of her remaining breath channeled into somehow, someway, being heard over the tremor of bomb arrows.

The smoke cleared. Link still stood, his sword frozen mid-swing. Master Revali relaxed his bow, his talons firmly on the ground, and his eagle eyes bored straight into her. He could be angry with her, that didn't matter. They were alive.

"Princess?" Master Revali scoffed, tossing his unspent arrow back into his quiver.

Sharp breaths tried to counter the exertion of her shout. Frigid air filled her burning lungs. Her limbs trembled, half weariness, half fear. Darkness crowded around her vision, obscuring all but the scared faces of her friends running toward her.

"Princess!"

As always, they caught her before she hit the ground. Her head ached and shame burned her face, yet she could not fault them for helping her, both of them lifting her to her feet once more. Slowly, her breath returned, the darkness fading back again.

Before her, the blue Rito set his bow onto his back. Disdain dripped from every word. "Princess Zelda, I take it?" He gave her a mocking bow, sweeping his wing out with all the drama he could display. "Welcome to Rito Village, Your Highness."

Chapter 8: Invisible

Summary:

"His majesty did not offer even a single word of praise!"

"Well, it's only natural that Father would be frustrated..."

"But, Your Highness..."

Before and after the cutscene.

Notes:

Hello friends! My goodness am I getting sucked into the AoC game. I knew it was Legend of Zelda, and therefore probably had more secrets to it than the movie cutscenes on Youtube let on. But. Oh. My. Hylia. This game is an absolute treasure trove of Zelink (and other ships, weirdly enough - I've gotten some very peculiar in-battle dialogue from one Rito in particular). If you haven't played it yet, what are you waiting for? It's so fun! And splurge for the DLC, it adds so much Zelink that we can justify the price to ourselves.

Sunlight streamed in through the tall windows behind the golden Triforce. Somewhere, ages ago, Zelda had read that the architect who designed the throne room did so with the intention of making the sovereign appear divine. A glow of light behind them, the crest of the royal family, they must have appeared to the people as holy as the Goddess herself. She could easily imagine her mother having stood there, radiant light enveloping her, giving grace and authority to her words. Her grandmother, too, would have issued her decrees from the throne of golden light.

But, then, they hadn't needed the architect's help, did they?

Zelda's fists clenched and unclenched behind her back. Her father, surrounded by golden light, had no divinity to him. He was a mortal man, selected by a goddess to wed a goddess to beget a goddess. How monumentally she'd ruined Hylia's plans by taking after her father's mortality.

"Pilots, your work in clearing monsters from Central Hyrule has put many of our minds at ease." Her father's voice boomed through the quiet room, bouncing off every stone wall, curved to give the maximum effect to his subjects down below. "Chief Urbosa, your assistance in clearing the Lizalfos infestation at Lake Hylia has saved many lives, and we are grateful for your resilient efforts."

The Gerudo chief bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment. "It is my honor to take out as many pests as possible for the safety of Hyrule."

The king's beard twitched, a parody of a true smile. "Princess Mipha, your selfless work in Castle Town to heal the sick and injured will never be forgotten by the people."

Zelda tried not to hate Mipha, but her anger burned all the hotter as Mipha smiled so sweetly at the king. "Whenever I can be of service, Your Majesty, I shall answer," Mipha replied. Zelda tried not to throw up a little.

"Lord Daruk," the king continued, nodding toward one of the only people in Central Hyrule that could boast broader shoulders than him. "Your powers of protection were truly invaluable when the eastern gate tower collapsed. If not for your quick action, every guard stationed inside would have perished in the rubble."

The great Goron rubbed the back of his neck, modest in his words and actions. "We're almost done rebuilding it, too! Glad to help!"

The exact opposite, Revali raised his beak high and fluffed out his chest feathers before the king had even said a word about him.

"Master Revali," the king nodded toward the Rito warrior, "your quick flight and true-striking arrows have cleared Hyrule Field of the remaining monster enclaves. My people are safer thanks to your sharp vision finding and eliminating the foe in their hidden dens."

Whatever praise was granted to Revali, it never satisfied him. He swept out his wings and bowed respectfully. "It is my honor, Your Majesty, to excel in every task."

Down the line, the king thanked each of the pilots for their efforts. For weeks, they had stayed at Hyrule Castle, training their Divine Beasts and honing their personal combat skills. Their training had given Zelda much-needed data, allowing her to fine tune the Beasts to their maximum capacity, closer and closer to completely syncing the pilots and Beasts. As the pilots learned their Beasts' controls, the Beasts learned their pilots' mannerisms. Almost alive themselves, the Beasts seemed to anticipate an order before the pilots issued it. Through Zelda's work, calibrating the Beasts through the Sheikah Slate, all of their progress was possible.

The king's eyes met Zelda's. She held her breath, staring up at him. Surely he must have seen her efforts, he must know how diligently she'd been working to ensure the Divine Beasts were prepared for the Calamity. How could he not be aware of all she'd done for Hyrule?

"My daughter," the king began. Zelda's heart thundered in her chest, rare warmth and excitement stirring inside of her. Just a word from the king, even a nod of gratitude, would have been enough for her. It would have been enough for the gossip-mongers who haunted her steps, whispering the same thoughts that never left her, even in silence. She held her breath, waiting. "Your quest is not yet complete. There is one Champion we yet lack."

All of the air rushed out of her lungs. She forced herself to remain still, holding the king's hardened gaze through the blur of tears that she would die before she let fall. She blinked her vision clear again. "I…I know, Father."

Standing taller still, blocking the light from reaching her so far below him, the king raised his hand toward the pilots. "Pilots of Hyrule, though I am grateful for the work you have already done, we cannot rest until every shield is raised against the Calamity. You must search for the one who can wield the Sword that Seals the Darkness. I implore you to use your unmatched abilities to rid Korok Forest of the monsters who have made it a festering den. I have hope that the final Champion will reveal himself once the forest is restored to peace."

Hollowness rang in Zelda's chest, as deep and cold as Hebra's valleys. Her eyes never left her father's, pleading, begging him to change his mind. The one barrier she had, the monsters that surrounded Korok Forest as thickly as the fog, would crumble before her eyes. And she, silently petitioning the man who conditioned her freedom on the appearance of a stranger, could only squeeze her fists so tight behind her back before her nails would carve permanent half-moon scars into her palms. At least apologize, she begged, her throat tight and her mouth dry. At least say you're sorry for condemning me.

A word of dismissal echoed through the sanctum. The pilots and guards bowed to the king as he retired to his daily work. And she, the only person permitted to look him in the eye, took the rare moment of privacy, only a second where hers was the only head not bowed, to dab away her tears with her sleeves.

---

Preparations began for their next mission. The one place she loathed to go more than any other; this was the destination her father had no objection to. His blessing, whatever that was worth, went with them.

They would depart in the morning. The king chose Vah Medoh for this task, clearing the forest from above. All visible targets would be destroyed long before they stepped foot into the misty woods. Only the hidden danger would face them once they entered.

She should have been asleep. The rest of the Castle probably was. The midnight hour struck a lifetime ago. She kept waiting for the single bell to toll, ringing the first hour of the last day of her life. Even if the hero did not appear to claim the sword that day, it wouldn't matter. She could never rest easy again. The pieces of her armor would fall, leaving her with nothing. The hero would appear without warning, holding high the Goddess's blessing, and she would be thrown at his feet. The task of berating her for not praying hard enough, studying Hylia's texts diligently enough, being good enough, would fall to the person the Goddess didn't hate, in the hopes that the Goddess's favor would overflow in him and a single drop might fall onto her.

Thick sleeves rubbed the dampness from her cheeks. Despair hardened into fury. Trapped in the confinement of her rank, she had no satisfying outlet for all the anger built up within her. It grew and grew, an animal pressing against the bars of its cage, until she thought she might die of it.

No, she decided, lifting her head from the pillow that gave her no comfort. If this is my last night alive, I will not let an unknown groom take it from me. While the time is mine, I will make use of it.

Her bed creaked as she slipped out, leaving the blankets disheveled. She hardly cared what she looked like. A band of blue held back her hair, swept out of her way. In the chill of the night, she forewent her usual clothing. Though she had had left her blankets on the bed, a heavy gown warmed her just as well.

Now came the trick of it. How would she sneak by the guard?

She weighed her options. The window might work, though she'd have to be fairly quick. She didn't have any rope. She could potentially tie her bedsheets together?

Frowning, Zelda reconsidered her options. Come on, Zelda! Think! The one thing you're good at! You can solve any problem set in front of you if you set your mind to it. She paced the floor, biting her thumbnail as she thought harder and harder about what should have been an easy answer. If this were a problem with the tech, you'd have solved it by now.

She stopped pacing. "That's it!" She ran to her desk, shoved aside her papers, and grabbed the Sheikah Slate. Swiping through the runes, she came to Stasis. She could freeze them. It would only be for a few seconds, but a few seconds would be enough for her to run as far and as fast as she could. The guard might even be so disoriented by it that they might take more than a minute to follow her. And by then, she'd be long gone.

Satisfied with her plan, Zelda approached the door. She let out a slow breath to calm her racing heart. She just had to be quick. Open the door, catch them with Stasis, and run. But, of course, if there were two guards on duty, she couldn't catch them both. She'd have to back up, draw them together somehow, and catch them with the same burst of Stasis. She nodded and set her hand on the door. Yes, she could do this.

The door flew open. Zelda raised her Slate, capturing the surprised visage of the guard in her camera lens. But rather than freeze him, she was the one frozen in her tracks.

Even in the darkness, his electric blue eyes pierced through the night, reflecting the glow of the Slate's artificial light. Though rarely seen in the uniform of the royal guard, he stood outside her door, as resolute as he'd ever been. But, he'd never looked so surprised.

"Zelda?" He gently lowered the Slate, pushing it down until he could see her shocked expression. "What are you doing?"

All of her plans came crashing to a halt a once - her carefully laid circuits shorted, sparking in vain to try to restart her thoughts. "I- I, um…" She prayed to whatever goddess was listening that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt. She took a step back, trying to gather herself. "What are you doing?" She countered. "We're supposed to leave in five hours! Why aren't you in bed?"

The smallest turn of the corner of his mouth sent her anxious heart into a flutter. She wished she could hate him for it. "Why aren't you?"

Cheeky man. She couldn't hold his gaze, instead directing her attention to the way the shadows of wind-shifting trees danced on the rug that ran down the corridor. "…I couldn't sleep."

"Hm," Link scratched his head, his cap even more lopsided than before. "That makes two of us, then. I swapped with Poplin just so I had something to do." He paused. "What's keeping you awake?"

While this wasn't exactly according to plan, if she had to be caught by anyone, it might as well be Link. She'd prefer him to any other, even if he did obey the orders of her father in the end. She frowned at the Slate in her hands, the Sheikah eye glowing faintly back at her. "I don't want to go to Korok Forest tomorrow, to put it succinctly."

Patiently listening, Link waited a few moments more, as if expecting her to give an explanation unprompted. When she didn't provide one, he finally asked. "Why?"

Her grip on the Slate tightened. Stubborn, stinging tears threatened to rise again, pressing against the back of her throat. "Because," she took a shuddering breath, "I'll be forced to marry whatever bastard pulls that damned sword. If we make it easier for him by clearing those monsters-" Her voice caught, increasing her frustration. She looked to the ceiling, blinking rapidly to dismiss the flood that kept rising unbidden. "Clearing that forest is the beginning of the end for me."

She didn't know what she expected from him. Any other person would have probably told her that she was being ridiculous. Selfish. If the hero could help her unlock her powers, whatever injustice she suffered would be worth it, in their eyes. She would bow to her father's will, as she had over and over and over again, for Hyrule's sake.

The one thing she did not expect was for him to offer his hand. "Then let's not spend your final moments here."

Before her, his white-gloved hand opened, inviting. She'd have to release her death grip on the Slate, and her muscles protested strongly against such an idea. It was easier to keep her hands on her weapon, her shield, her only protection in this wretched world. And yet…his offer remained - quiet, patient. His words and expression demanded nothing from her. All he asked, silently, was for her to lower her guard.

She took a breath, then clipped the Slate onto her hip. Her hand fit easily in his, the leather of his gloves smooth and warm. Daring to look at him again, she tried to form words despite the sudden dryness of her tongue. "Where-"she paused, trying again with more strength to her voice, "where did you have in mind?"

His smile could rival the moon, as bright, as comforting as the sky's nightly steward. "Out of here. Out of the Castle. Maybe not too far, but I think we'll both do better outside of these walls."

Trusting him, though she had no idea what he meant by his words, she followed. They stayed to the shadows. As perceptive as he was as a warrior, those skills served him well in avoiding the lantern light of the patrols that were supposed to keep her safe. Though he'd only been stationed at the Castle for a few months, and most of those were spent on the road with her, he knew the passageways well enough. And, when he met a fork in the road, he followed her guidance. She wasn't sure where they were going, but if their goal was just to get out, this was one way to do it.

Twisting staircases ended at the narrow stone walkway between the walls of the Castle and the moat. The moon's light reflected on the surface of the flowing water - shimmering ripples. Fresh air filled her lungs, clean and free. Though the night was cold, his hand was warm in hers.

Where he led from here, she would follow.

Chapter 9: In the Shadows

Summary:

In the shadows of Castle Town, secrets come to light.

Now freed from the Castle walls, their destination became a little clearer. They needn't go far. Castle Town was easy enough to get lost in for a couple of hours. So long as they were back by dawn, no one would know the difference.

Tall stone and wood structures hid them from the flickering streetlamps. A royal guard's uniform, bright blue and red and gold and white, was not easily overlooked when caught in the light. Likewise, the fine gown of a princess turned many heads when she wore it to her father's court. It would turn just as many in the streets of Castle Town. An odd sort of thrill accompanied the idea. They were bright targets, anomalies in the mundane. One unfortunate spotting and they'd have to run back to the Castle before news of their escape was shouted to the whole of Hyrule.

Yet, there were enough alleyways. Though some ended abruptly, blocked by gates or tall stacks of crates and barrels, they were never without a direction. There was a lot of shadow to explore when there was nothing but time to kill.

"Why are you still awake, Link?" Zelda asked, her hand still firmly in his. It wasn't really necessary anymore, if it ever was, yet she couldn't let him go for more than a moment, like a tether on a boat. Out here, in the darkness, he would hide her.

"Oh, well," Link shrugged, rounding a corner to explore the next alley. So far, their trek had found little more than stray cats and the back doors to businesses, but it was still worthwhile. Every now and then, some color would appear. Paint, chalk, she couldn't tell. Designs and images dotted Castle Town, beauty in all the secret places. It amused her to think how much her father would have hated these scattered murals, some clearly half-painted over by the owners of the canvas walls; beauty kept cropping up despite the will of authority. "I guess I was also thinking about the woods," he admitted. "There's something about those woods that, I don't know, unsettles me?" When she gave him an odd look, he continued. "I'm not scared, that's not what I mean. But there's an anticipation. I can't describe it."

As little of an explanation as that was, it was still more pleasant than the thoughts that plagued her when she thought of the task ahead of them. "I'd rather be unsettled than condemned."

Link stopped, turning back toward her. More color peeked out from over his shoulder. The exagerrated stalks of painted grain almost matched his hair. "You keep saying things like that. Why do you think it will be terrible?"

"How could it not be?" Zelda said. "I'm pledged to be married to a stranger! I will never have the freedom to choose with whom I spend the rest of my life."

For several seconds, Link didn't answer. She couldn't blame him for it. If she were in his position, she would be just as much at a loss of what to say. There was no comfort that could be given in light of so great an injustice.

"…I get it."

Of all the sentiments she expected - pity, plattitudes, optimism - never did she expect empathy. And, though she hoped that he couldn't truly empathize with her plight, her curiosity demanded satisfaction. The mystery continued to unfold before her.

"What do you mean?" Zelda asked, hardly daring to speak the words.

The clock tolled twice.

Link squeezed her hand, his brows furrowed, his attention set on their hands together, as if the tether might snap if it weren't carefully watched. "When I was very young, I promised Princess Mipha that I would marry her someday. And the princess, well, she laughed, and she told me that I had to grow up first. But from that day on, as far as anyone at the Domain was concerned, we were as good as betrothed." He took a breath, as if a great weight had settled on his shoulders. "It's not like I never had the opportunity to rescind, of course. I just…accepted it."

She'd heard of such silly promises before. She was sure she'd made some of her own, fascinated with some person or other that she had no business marrying. Because, really, who takes a child at their word on such matters? That Princess Mipha would not dissuade him was a little concerning, but, she supposed, Mipha did give him a choice.

"Do you still?"

He hesitated, his jaw shifting with his thoughts. "…Yes. I don't really have an alternative path for me, at this point. I've accepted the engagement gift. But…"

"But what?" Zelda asked, her curiosity building with every word he spoke, every new data point she uncovered.

"She's a Zora, you know?" Link sighed. "She was an adult when I met her. She'll probably still be in her prime when I die. I'll be with her my whole life, but sometimes I think about what she'll do when I'm gone. She'll live another lifetime after that."

While that answer was hardly what she expected, she couldn't fault him. He was a good man. No one could accuse him of callousness. "Lots of couples have such fears."

Link shook his head. "It's not a fear. It's a certainty. I've pledged myself to someone who will only ever call me her first husband. In the end, I'm going to leave her alone."

She'd never considered the implications of such a promise. The lifespan differences of the tribes of Hyrule hadn't concerned her much before. King Dorephan ascended to the throne at the same time as her grandmother. Yet, one lived, and the other was long dead. "Does that bother you?"

"It does. A lot. I don't want her to bear the loss of a spouse for hundreds of years."

A familiar weight settled on her chest, pushing the air from her lungs. "Because you love her."

Again, he hesitated. She'd…never known hesitation at such a statement to be a good sign. "…I love her the same way I did when I was a child, making promises I couldn't keep."

His words wrapped around her mind, an enigma she had to solve. She couldn't let him go without understanding him fully. "What do you mean by that? Is that love not enough?"

He winced slightly, a rare sight from him. "No, I- it is. It's fine. I just…" His eyes briefly met hers before falling again to the uneven ground they stood on. "I didn't know there was another kind."

In her studies, she'd often come across moments like this. The calculation was almost right, the diagrams almost perfect. She'd stood at the precipice of a discovery, her heart a fluttering bird inside of her, bursting with excitement at the revelation of the next step. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the same quickened beat through his glove. She wanted to study it for a lifetime. "And…now you know?"

His fingers wrapped tightly around hers. His eyes, as blue as the Guardian- no, bluer still, at last met hers. She'd never seen a smile so sad. She'd never felt a cracking voice as keenly as his. "Now I know."

She couldn't name it, the force that overtook her in that moment. Desperation, perhaps. A desperate, futile attempt to have something that she never could. To pretend, for a night, that they weren't both pledged to someone they could never be in love with.

His back hit the wall as her lips met his. A muffled gasp of surprise soon melted into something much warmer, much deeper. She released his hand only to set hers on his cheeks, aligning herself with him in all the ways she'd read about but never tried before. It wasn't the soft, delicate kiss of a confession, or the hungry, passionate kiss of heated lovers. It was awkward and off-center. It was knowing that they would only ever get one chance to know what happiness could feel like, until the bell tolled five times. And, as inexperienced as she was, she was going to make the most of it. In the morning, the sun would rise, and she'd again be pledged to a stranger, and he would be pledged to a princess who took a child's promise as the truth.

His hands found her shoulders, rising up her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. A part of her wanted to laugh at the thought that he'd probably never kissed a girl with hair. He'd never kissed a Hylian, and in that, they were equal. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on to him, her last light in the darkness. With every thought of what awaited them in the morning, her desperation grew.

She couldn't kill the flower that now wound around her, a vine binding her to him. She wouldn't kill the flower now, not now that she knew why it grew. It was the beautiful color she could take with her into the dark alleyways, the reminder that somewhere, in another life, she might have had happiness. Even if this was only for a night, she would cherish every moment.

With every stolen breath, every press of his body against hers, every angle he tried just to get as close as possible, her heart soared and crashed back down again. He had to watch her marry someone else. He stood by her and protected her and fought for her and stayed at the walls of a desert town just to be near her. Did he want to kiss her, alone in that cabin, as badly as she wanted to kiss him? Did he also wonder what it could have been like if this weren't their only kiss?

Parting from him, if only to catch her breath, was still too far. Her forehead against his, their noses touching, their breath mingling in the cool air, all sent her heart into a greater turmoil of desire and despair. If she could, she would run with him, not just to Castle Town, but far, far away. Somewhere that the Calamity wouldn't reach them. Somewhere that pointless promises wouldn't catch them.

"Zelda," Link breathed, sending shivers down her spine. Her name was never so lovely in anyone else's voice. "You're beautiful."

She wanted nothing more than to stay there, in the darkness, hidden from her father and his fiancee and the responsibilities that awaited them both. His hair was softer than she imagined, slipping between her fingers like flax-colored silk. "Link," She let one hand fall, tracing the shape of his neck, her fingertips entranced by his rapid pulse. "Were we anyone but ourselves-"

"I know," he answered, his lips meeting hers again. Deeper and deeper she fell, her heart so full that she prayed it didn't shatter entirely when they had to break it. Whatever shards were left, when it was all said and done and they were married to other people, she would hold them close and remember the taste of his lips.

The quarter-hour rang.

Her hands traced the shape of his jaw, his neck. She wondered all the more what he felt like under the high collar of his uniform, but resigned herself only to imagining. It was a line not worth crossing - as risky as it was to kiss her knight in the alley, anything much more would land them both in danger. Gerudo Town's laws would look lenient in light of her father's wrath. She couldn't escape the king's orders, but he could.

She drew back a moment, her heart cracking at the thought she had to express. "Link, I can't get out of my arrangement."

"Shh," Link softly kissed her forehead, letting his hands rest on her waist. "Let's not talk about that."

As desperately as she wanted to give in and agree, she couldn't abide. "Quickly, Link. Let me say what I must, and then I'll say no more on it."

Reluctantly, and pouting almost like a disappointed puppy, he drew back. Even in the shadows, his eyes shone, catching the scant moonlight.

Every moment she spent in speech was a moment not spent committing him to memory. Despite her scrambled thoughts, she had to speak. "I need you to promise me that you'll marry someone you can love. I don't care if that's Mipha or anyone else. Promise me that you'll have enough love for the both of us."

"Zel-" Unable to stop himself, he pressed his lips to hers, as if she were the only air in a flooded cave. With every kiss, he survived just a little longer. "I will. But, I need you to promise that you'll try to love whoever pulls the sword. If there's any chance that you could be happy, don't close yourself off from it."

She wanted to laugh at so ridiculous a request. Yet, she couldn't make herself do it. Her heart ached the longer she looked at him, the longer she spent in his presence. How could she ever love anyone other than him? If there were some way that they could be together, she would give up everything else. "I- I'll try," she swore.

"Good," Link said, pressing his fleeting kisses to her jawline. "Is that all? Can we get back to-?"

She captured his lips again, cutting him off.

As content as she would have been to stay in the shadows with him forever, at the third toll, they had to return to the Castle.

At the fourth, he resumed his post at her door - but not before seeing her to bed, even if she would only get an hour's worth of rest. The mark he left just below the neckline of her gown was more than enough to keep her awake until dawn.

Time marched onward, cruelly, unrelenting. Morning would come - and with the morning, the end of anything that might have been.

 

 

Notes:

Shoutout to tehRaincoat for her art inspiring this chapter!

Edit: And to FluteFemme for making art for this chapter!!!!! oh my goodness i do not deserve you wonderful readers. <3

Chapter 10: Ambush!

Summary:

On their way to clear the Lost Woods of monsters, the group is ambushed by Yiga assassins.

Notes:

Good morning! I have slept maybe twelve hours over the last couple of days. Haha work related insomnia go brrrrr. Kind of fitting that I’m posting the “Zelda doesn’t sleep” chapter today.

Content warning: Canon-typical Yiga violence

 

Bright sunlight stung Zelda's eyes. Her head ached, a fog of anxiety and lack of rest clouding her thoughts. Even still, she forced herself to focus on the task ahead of them. Fabled swordsman or not, witnessing Vah Medoh in action would still give her valuable data. If she could just ignore his voice behind her, she might be able to concentrate.

All four pilots accompanied her on this mission - or rather, she was permitted to accompany them. Her retainer, her friends, followed. Impa kept a close pace with her, sharp eyes catching every detail that Zelda tried to hide. Though she'd pulled up the collar of her blouse to full decency, she couldn't stop imagining that Impa still saw the bruise on her collarbone. Under thick layers of cloth, there was no way…but the thought never left. A Sheikah's third eye could see anything.

Daruk's heavy footsteps thumped behind her, shaking the ground with every step. The Boulder Breaker bobbed to and fro, balanced on his shoulder, knocking against the rattling chains of his breastplate. He laughed heartily at something Urbosa said, though Zelda didn't quite catch it. Rather than focusing on pleasant conversation, or the mission, her attention kept falling back to the couple behind her.

"Link, I was wondering," Mipha's voice was soft, sweet, and burned Zelda's soul. Zelda kept her gaze forward on the main road through town, gritting her teeth. "When we're done clearing the forest, would you come back to the Domain with me for a while?"

Stop listening, Zelda. She swiped through the screens of the Sheikah Slate, trying to distract herself from the burning in her chest. They'd both agreed that it would never be spoken of, never mentioned. In the moonlight, promises were easily made. In the fullness of day, the haze began to clear. He would go back to Mipha, as if he'd never made Zelda's heart soar above the clouds. She would resign herself to her unknown fate, forgetting how his hair felt between her fingers and how firm his lips were on hers.

"I'm assigned to Princess Zelda," he replied, both bolstering her resolve and striking her through the heart. Assigned. Merely assigned. "I can't leave her service without her father's consent."

It was a job. That's all it ever was. All it ever could be. What happened last night didn't happen at all. It was easy enough for him to pretend that. How in the world did he behave just as alert this morning as the last? Did she dream that she kissed him until the sun rose over the Castle's towers? If she had, she might not be so tired.

The ground lurched beneath her. She let out a squeak of surprise before Impa caught her, her arm around Zelda's shoulders to hold her steady.

"Princess, are you alright?" Impa asked, her voice convincing enough for the rest of the party who had suddenly been alerted to Zelda's altered state. Based on the sharp features of Impa's expression, the tenseness of her mouth when she spoke, Zelda knew better than to give a false answer.

"Yes! Yes, sorry," Zelda cleared her throat and righted herself, "just a little tired. Early morning and all. I'm afraid I was, ah, distracted."

She could do without Revali's frustrated, disgusted sigh. "You'd probably be just fine if you weren't buried in that little device of yours all the time. One of these days you're going to get ambushed and not even notice because of that thing."

Several calming breaths in, out, in, out. She would not snap at the Rito, even if he deserved every ounce of her ire. She needed him to pilot Vah Medoh. His personality had nothing to do with his competence as a warrior - or so she kept reminding herself, plastering on a fake smile. "I'll be more careful, Master Revali, thank you."

Still, maybe he did have a point. She clipped the Slate to her hip again, setting her sights on the road ahead. They were almost entirely through the town, and then they would head north to the woods. They might even get there by midday, and then they could clear out the forest by sunset. Assuming they were out of the fog by sunset, that is. Strange things happened to those who stayed in the woods after dark.

Along the walk, Impa quietly slipped her arm around Zelda's, a link that appeared to all the world as harmless as friendship. If only Impa's quick whisper conveyed such sweetness. "What were you doing last night?"

Giving a noncommital shrug, Zelda kept her secrets close to her chest. "I couldn't sleep. Is insomnia a crime?"

A frustrated hum was her reply. She had a look in her deep brown eyes that told her the conversation was far from over - only dropped now for her modesty. Impa stopped, her linked arm holding Zelda in place.

"Impa, what-?!" Zelda started to fuss at her friend, until she heard the laughter and smelled the strange, sulfurous scent of magic.

Smoke burst across the rooftops. Cackling laughter surrounded her. Archers and footsoldiers manifested from thin air, their bodies clothed in blood-red uniforms, their masks hiding their identities - a hive of hornets, each prepared to strike at the command of their superior. Sunlight glinted on the curved blade of a soldier's sickle.

At once, her friends surrounded her. Daruk swung his hammer wide, creating a shield for the first set of arrows that struck and bounced harmlessly off the Goron's magic.

Zelda knew she was slow on a good day - of which this was most decidedly not. Surrounded by Yiga warriors, the translucent shield of Daruk's magic the only barrier between them and the cruelty of these traitors to Hyrule, she could only clutch the Slate to her chest. Think, Zelda, think! Her brain fought through the fog, the terror of the ambush clouding her judgment even further. They were trapped. Daruk's shield was only active as long as he remained stationary. They couldn't stay inside forever. They couldn't wait for the Yiga to get bored and leave them alone. Sooner or later, the shield would have to fall.

Smoke and paper seals burst on the rooftop directly before her. A deep voice boomed from a cracked mask, immediately revealing Master Kohga's favorite chesspiece: Sooga.

"Your Highness, I bring news," Sooga sneered, drawing his rune-carved blades. "It regards your impending death."

Drawing her own weapon, Impa jumped in front of Zelda, blocking her view of the enemy. "Don't even try it, traitor!"

At once, the shield fell. Daruk slammed his hammer into a row of footsoldiers. Their snapping bones and cries of pain dug into Zelda's ears. Her head throbbed.

Lightning crackled, the air flooding with ozone. Urbosa sliced through another horde, thunder exploding at short range. Zelda's ears rang, the sounds of battle muffled even more.

She had no idea where Mipha and Revali went, only that by the time she turned back to issue orders, they were already gone. Only a splash of water and a burst of wind gave her any indication that they were ever there.

The enemy split, chasing after the pilots. The true threat remained, stone-still, on the rooftop. "The princess is our target," he commanded, "Don't concern yourselves with the others."

Steel clashed, disorienting and loud and bright and clanging. Her heart pounded, her head ached, her muscles moved far, far too slow. She drew bombs from the Slate, but the enemy lept out of the way before she had a chance to detonate them.

Her friends stayed by her side, fighting the enemies that seemed to never end, coming in waves of scarlet, a tide of blood and blade. Illusions of Impa spread across the battlefield. Link fought hard enough for ten men. And she, useless, useless princess, cowered behind them. They backed toward the wall nearest them, keeping Zelda away from the fight. Shame burned across her face. She wouldn't let her friends fight all her battles. She couldn't allow it to continue.

Maybe bombs weren't quick enough. But they didn't have to be quick. The enemy just had to be slow.

Golden magic burst from the Slate, trapping the horde of Yiga in Stasis. Only a few, precious seconds. Her friends continued to strike, the potential energy of each hit building higher and higher, ready to send their targets flying when the magic snapped.

She switched runes just as time caught up to them. The warriors flew back, crashing hard into the street and the shops across the battlefield - their weapons remained where they stood, trapped in Magnesis. Swords and sickles clanged together, a ball of shaking, magnetically-bound weaponry. It wasn't elegant by any stretch of the imagination, but it would have to do. They might have been able to dodge bombs, but could they dodge shrapnel?

"Raise your shields!" Zelda ordered, much to the surprise of her friends, who obeyed without question. Tossing the ball of weapons high, Zelda followed it quickly with a bomb. The sound was horrific, snapping metal and percussive force. Impa and Link crushed against her, pushed back by the force of the explosion, their shields barely protecting them from the fallout. Judging by the shrieks of the Yiga, they didn't heed her orders quite as quickly.

And still, his men dying in crimson rivers before him, Sooga watched from above. "Hmph. I suppose you think you're clever." His dark voice rumbled through the air. In a flash, he was gone, only smoke where he had once stood. Blood rushed through Zelda's ears, her Slate at the ready. She searched the battlefield for any sign of the giant warrior, ready to summon another bomb as soon as he re-appeared.

Light flashed from above. She had barely a second to react as blades rushed down toward her, smoke on the rooftop above. She raised her Slate, hitting whatever element was on the screen. Wind knocked her to the ground. Sharp blades glinted.

Ice smashed against Sooga's body, shattering on impact. Zelda scrambled away, a barely contained scream in her throat. Link backed up with her, his shield raised toward the disoriented Sooga, pieces of shimmering ice dissolving in the sun. With a shout, Impa slammed her heel into Sooga's mask, knocking him to the ground. She thought she saw Link wince.

Sooga skid across the blood-slick road, grunting with pain and effort. When Impa ran at him again, her kodachi raised for the kill, he slammed his fist into the ground. The earth beneath Impa erupted into steam and shards, throwing her off-balance and slamming her with chunks of stone.

"Neat trick," scoffed a haughty voice from above. Revali's wings slowed his descent. His sharp talons landed on the roof Sooga had just occupied. "I've got a better one." With a flap of his wings, a fierce gale raced across the battlefield, catching Sooga and flipping him in the air.

"Trying to distract us was a smart move," Urbosa noted, her scimitar sparking with lightning as she sprinted out from an alleyway and struck at Sooga, who barely jumped back in time to keep from being fried.

With all four pilots now back on the scene, and with more crimson in rivers than uniform, Sooga backed up, his swords drawn in a protective X. Smoke burst on the rooftops around them, the remaining soldiers ready to strike at Sooga's command.

The Yiga commander lept into the air, flipping himself back onto the rooftop. For a moment, it looked like he would surrender, or else retreat. Only a fourth of his forces remained, and a smear of blood dyed his mask. He surveyed the group below him, seemingly weighing his chances of success in another assault. When he sheathed his swords, Zelda let out a breath.

Metal glinted. Zelda screamed, knives launched at her face faster than she could move. But, not faster than Link. The daggers bounced harmlessly off of his shield, clattering to the ground. Wind rushed over them.

Mipha shrieked.

Smoke bombs burst, Revali's quick arrows piercing the cloud a second too late.

Beside him, Mipha dropped to her knees, desperately pressing her own magic to the deep gashes across her side - false gills streaming with blood.

"Shit, Princess Mipha, I'm sorry!" Revali knelt beside her, his wings hovering awkwardly, unsure how to help. "I tried to deflect those!"

"No, you did, you did," Mipha assured him, smiling through the obvious, intense pain. Her whole body trembled with the effort of staying up, healing herself as best she could. "He- he was aiming to kill."

Cold rushed through Zelda's veins. She didn't hate Mipha. She didn't. She didn't. Why would the gods listen only to her most evil thoughts?! Panic shot through her nerves, shaking just as badly as the Zora princess. When Link rushed to Mipha's side, offering the scant medical supplies he carried, Mipha thanked him as politely as possible, taking very little.

"I'm sure- I'm sure Princess Zelda would have been-" Mipha winced, the glow of her hands starting to dim, the gaps between her scales slowly closing.

Link's hand on her shoulder seemed to help, if only a little. The glow returned, brighter still, when she smiled at him.

Zelda took a step back, her stomach churning. She could have been killed. Mipha could have been killed - would almost certainly have been killed if not for Revali's gust of wind turning the daggers' trajectory at the last moment. Watching Link speak softly to Mipha, her head spun. He was fast. Faster than the daggers. Fast enough to deflect a Guardian's laser. Fast enough to have chosen which princess he would save. There was no way he could have predicted Revali's gale.

She fought the bile rising in her throat, the realization hitting her all the harder when the group's attention focused solely on Princess Mipha. Link helped Mipha to her feet, his arm around her waist, half-carrying her toward a safe place to rest. Had Revali not acted when he did, Mipha would be dead.

"…I love her the same way I did when I was a child, making promises I couldn't keep."

Chapter 11: What We Lost in the Woods

Summary:

Thick fog hovered around them, a blanket of pale blue and gray. Floating motes of light faded in and out, winking at her in the gloom. Revali and Urbosa led the group, their ranged attacks always at the ready in case something lept out at them from the wall of obfuscating mist. Link and Impa stayed in the back, keeping watch over the trail behind them; vigilant, anticipating an assault from behind. Daruk's heavy footsteps thumped into the ground just behind the two princesses. Though significantly improved, Mipha still winced when she had to twist her body at all, even to examine her surroundings.

"This is quite the fog," Mipha observed, her voice hushed, as if the forest itself would strike at her if she offended it.

"Are we even making progress?" Revali huffed, his beak clacking in frustration. "We could just be going in circles."

"Good point," Daruk agreed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If only someone could fly above and scout the way."

Notes:

You guys already know what this chapter is about. I don't have to tell you.

A day's delay, while unplanned, was not wholly unexpected. Yet, the cause for the delay could never have been predicted . Slowing down for Princess Mipha's sake, while necessary, did not bring any comfort to Zelda's anxious heart.

She chewed her thumbnail, pacing around the front of the Woodland Stable. At every rustle of leaf or whiff of smoke, she flinched in expectation of a hidden blade. Surrounded by travelers and friends, she should have no reason to fear. No matter how many times she told herself this, her heart would not believe it. Much like she told herself that the previous night was the greatest anomaly, a phenomenon that would never be repeated , she couldn't tear her attention away from Link.

A bowl of warm stew in front of her at the communal table could not tempt her away from the tumultuous thoughts in her head. Even when he left through the colorful, wide tent flaps of the stable to go practice with Daruk, she stared after the doorway, his afterimage seared into her vision.

Weeee- oop? A sharp whistle beside her shook her from her trance, drawing her notice to the tiny Guardian nudging her calf.

"Oh! Yes, little friend? What is it?" She asked, reaching down to pet its hard shell. She had no way of knowing whether such a gesture meant anything to an automaton, but it seemed to appreciate her, regardless.

"It's worried about you," Impa said, sitting down across from Zelda at the table. "We all are."

Beside Impa, Lady Urbosa lounged on the wooden bench, like a great cat settling in. "You haven't been yourself, little bird."

Heat sparked in Zelda's chest. She stirred at her stew, watching the chunks of meat and vegetable float around in the thick broth. "I'm just tired," she insisted. "I couldn't sleep last night." She very much did not appreciate the look traded between her friends.

"Couldn't, or didn't want to because you had something better to do?" Impa said.

The spark flared up to her cheeks, burning to her ears. "Why does it matter?!" she snapped, though quickly lowered her voice when other guests took notice of her. "What I do or don't do with my time is no business of yours," she hissed.

Unmoving, her friend stared her down, her brown eyes set firm. "I went to your room last night to check on you."

A cold stone settled in Zelda's core. Her heart raced, her bones trembled, every nerve alighting at once in fight-or-flight. Still, she said nothing, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible.

Impa drummed her fingers on the table, leaning closer. "Neither you or your guard were there, Zelda. Do you have any idea how terrified I was? You could have been kidnapped for all I knew!"

Zelda's gaze hardened. She crossed her arms. "If you were so concerned, why didn't you raise an alarm?"

"I did," Impa answered, glaring back at her friend. "I went to the guards immediately. That's when I learned that Poplin wasn't on duty that night. He swapped with Link."

Despite the hammering of her heart trapped behind her ribs, she refused to budge an inch. "So what?"

"So-! Because I told you to stop!" Impa quickly lowered her voice again, noticing the other guests who were now listening in on the juiciest gossip this side of Hyrule. "Come on, Zel. You know better than this. We're on the verge of finding the Master Sword. You can't afford to waste your time chasing after something you can't have."

Barbs stuck into Zelda's soul with every word, digging into her flesh. She blinked back the furious, exhausted tears from her eyes.

"Little bird," Urbosa reached across the table, offering her hand in friendship. "We love you, and we're only telling you this because we love you. The path you're walking will only lead to heartbreak and strife."

Her gaze flickered briefly toward Urbosa's offer, so similar to the gesture Link had done the night before. Her heart ached all the more, tears blurring her eyes, the more she remembered the highs, and the devastating crash of watching him close her door behind him, knowing that the fantasy was permanently over. Impa gave the same advice that Urbosa had in Gerudo Town, and the same rationale that had encouraged Zelda to stomp the flower into the ground harder and harder every time it dared to grow an inch. But she was tired. She'd let the petals open for just a moment, letting her guard fall. She'd gotten a taste, however slight, of sweet nectar. It had been so easy to convince herself to kill the ugliness inside before he called it beautiful.

Through the tightness of her throat, she attempted to answer them. "I know." Her voice was little more than a cracking squeak, fighting as hard as she could to contain it. When the battle appeared utterly unwinnable, she pushed herself up from the table. With a slight gesture, she bid her friends to follow. If she was going to cry, there was no way she would do so where any word of it could get back to her father.

Pushing her emotions down, down, as deep into her core as she could shove them, Zelda exited the stable, her friends close behind. She heard the distant clash of metal and the rumble of Daruk's laughter to her right. She turned left, toward the river. Hidden from everyone else, she plopped down by the bank and pulled her knees to her chest. Clear water flowed, fish and turtles swimming through the currents, blissfully unaware of the world of the ridiculous people who walked on land. Some part of her wondered if the fish would be spared the Calamity's wrath - someone had to be.

Her friends settled on either side of her, waiting for her to speak.

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, loathe to confess the truth that she'd carried inside her all day - the truth that made her flinch in shame whenever she looked at the terrible gashes in Mipha's side. "Last night, Link and I went into Castle Town," she began, already wincing in anticipation of her friends' criticism. "He couldn't sleep either. We talked about why, about Korok Forest and the fate my father has condemned me to." At the first roll of a tear down her cheek, Urbosa's warm hand on her back gave her enough courage to continue. "I told him that I didn't want to marry. I didn't want to clear the forest of monsters because it would mean that I had to." Her voice cracked again. She took a shuddering breath, hardly caring about the tears that flowed, so long as no one but the fish saw them fall. "So, yes, I admit that I was with him. I admit that I kissed him, and that he walked me back to my chambers, and that we were out together all night. And we- we agreed that was the end of it. We said what needed to be said." She wiped away some of her tears, glistening water on her hands. "It's over, alright? He's gone back to Princess Mipha, and I've resigned myself to my fate with the unknown hero."

For several seconds, no one spoke. The distant rattle of carts and flow of the river, the chirping of birds and croaking of frogs, all filled the uncomfortable space left by her pitiful honesty.

Without warning, Urbosa pulled Zelda into her chest. Tears were far easier to cry when hidden in Urbosa's warmth. "Little bird, if I could change your father's mind, I would have done it years ago." Her arms tightened around Zelda, holding her closer. "You deserve so much more than a resignation to your fate."

Zelda's hands curled into tight fists, hiding herself in Urbosa's embrace.

"…Do you think he told Princess Mipha?" Impa wondered, drawing Zelda out of herself for only a moment.

Zelda wiped her tears with her sleeves. "No. I don't think he intended to, not right away." She took another breath, the rippling water below splashing on the banks. "I don't know how he intends to tell her. It would be an awful thing to confess, if he ever did." She wasn't sure whether she would prefer to know of such infidelity, even from a husband she didn't choose, or to remain permanently ignorant of it. Her stomach twisted at the thought of the harm she caused to someone as kind as Mipha. "Skies, I hadn't even thought of poor Mipha's feelings in all of this. I feel just horrid about what I did! I've completely betrayed her!"

Guilt and shame stung like vipers. She hid herself in Urbosa again, too overwhelmed by her own evil actions to face the reality of her friends' censure. "I've ruined everything! And you all warned me! You warned me and I didn't listen to you!"

Urbosa's strong arms held her as she sobbed, all of her exhaustion, shame, fear, and guilt rising to the surface. She placed a soft kiss on Zelda's head, like she was a frightened child. "But you're listening now," she soothed, stroking Zelda's hair. "I know it isn't easy, little bird. But I'm proud of you for walking away while the offense is still too small for lasting damage."

Sniffling, Zelda lifted her head. "What do you mean?"

"It's not like you bore his child," Urbosa reasoned, waving her hand vaguely.

Zelda nearly choked on her breath. She'd never known Urbosa to mince words or soften her bluntness, but such a statement caught Zelda entirely off-guard.

"I think what Urbosa is trying to say," Impa clarified, her cheeks not spared the second-hand blush, "is that it can be mended with an apology. Princess Mipha is too gracious of a person to hold grudges. And while it will be up to Link to rebuild her trust in him, if you tell Mipha that you're sorry, I'm sure she'll forgive you…eventually."

A little less mortified by such an idea, Zelda nodded, pulling back from Urbosa's embrace. "Yes. Though I- I'll hardly deserve it." She sniffled, wiping the last of her tears away. "It isn't my place to tell her yet, but I will begin making amends, at least for the trouble I've put her through today." Slowly, she stood from the bank and brushed grass from her clothes. "Have either of you seen her?"

"She was by the pond," Urbosa said, nodding toward the back of the stable. "She said the water helps her heal faster."

Steeling herself, Zelda fixed her eyes on her next goal: apologizing. "Right. Then I will…I will do my utmost."

Stepping carefully back out of the little woods between the river and the road, Zelda surveyed the area for any sign of the knight she wished more than anything to avoid. When she saw no further sign of him, she continued into the open, heading around the stable toward the pond.

While she wasn't very surprised to see Mipha in the water, she didn't expect to find Revali on the shore. She stopped, hardly believing that the Rito pilot would show such a measure of compassion for anyone.

"It's really not your fault," Mipha assured him, her smile sweet and gentle. More of her wound had healed, her body submerged up to the top of the gashes.

Perhaps unwilling to get any closer at the risk of getting his feathers wet, Revali shifted uncomfortably. "It was still a failure on my part, Your Highness." His wing flexed and formed into a fist. "When I see that damned Yiga again, I swear I won't miss."

"Hm," Mipha hummed sweetly, finally catching sight of Zelda approaching. "Oh, Princess Zelda!" She raised her hand from the water, waving at Zelda. "Have you also come to check on me?"

Something about the way Revali stiffened when Zelda approached struck her as very unusual, and somewhat amusing. For all the pompous air that he put out, she could only imagine how personally he took his failing. It would probably haunt him for the rest of his life, assuming he didn't eventually avenge his pride. Before Zelda even reached the shore, Revali gave her a stiff bow. "Good evening, Princess. Ah, I've tarried here long enough." He gave a somewhat smoother bow to Mipha, sweeping out his wing. "Have a good night, Your Highness."

"Goodnight, Master Revali," Mipha giggled, clearly as amused by his change in behavior as Zelda was. She watched him a moment longer, hiding a laugh behind her clawed hand. "It's very sweet of him to worry about me."

'Sweet' was perhaps the last word any rational person would use to describe Revali, and yet, Zelda couldn't refute it. His behavior and attention to Princess Mipha was certainly out of Zelda's expectations. But, then again, she'd only known him a short while. Perhaps his perceived failures held more weight in his mind than were warranted . It certainly would explain his persistence in training. His pride might be double-edged.

Zelda approached the water, the edge of the pond lapping against her boots. "He's not the only one worried about you," she began, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. As confident as she'd been in convincing herself to apologize, her bravery waned the longer she remained in Mipha's presence. "I, too, feel responsible for what happened today."

Mipha's eyes softened. She rose from the water, wincing slightly with each step she took toward Zelda. "It is no one's fault but the man who threw the blades," Mipha assured her. Taking Zelda's hands in hers (Zelda tried not to think too hard about the dampness), Mipha stood a little shorter than Zelda, looking up at her. "We all knew what we were getting ourselves into when we agreed to pilot the Beasts. Our safety is never guaranteed."

Frowning, Zelda gave Mipha's hands a slight squeeze. "Perhaps. And yet…I cannot stop thinking about how close we both were to death."

"Hm," Mipha ran her thumb idly across the back of Zelda's hand, in thought. "I…I have been thinking much of that. Why he chose to target us, you know?"

Zelda attempted a half-hearted laugh. "Because I'm small and an easy target?"

"Oh dear, and what does that make me?" Mipha teased, laughing softly. "Perhaps you're right, but I did think of another reason."

Hearing a new mystery unfold, Mipha now had Zelda's full attention. "Yes?"

"I…Oh, well, now it seems a little silly…" Mipha sighed, blushing a little, "and perhaps rather presumptuous of me-"

"Mipha," Zelda squeezed the Zora Princess's hand again. "I wish you wouldn't say such things about yourself. You're very clever, and I truly value your opinion." Though she expected the words to taste like lies in her mouth, she was surprised to find that she believed them. For as long as she'd spent needlessly hating someone as nice as Princess Mipha, she still couldn't hide the truth of her admiration.

Bolstered by Zelda's good opinion, Mipha smiled a little more. "I was thinking of Link."

Oh Goddess . The one person she'd wanted most to avoid in this conversation, at least until the knight had taken the first blow on her behalf. She swallowed hard, attempting to remain as unaffected as ever. "What about him?"

"Well, it's no secret that he and I are engaged," Mipha began, her fins shifting back and forth as she spoke, only occasionally meeting Zelda's eyes. "Perhaps he thought that, if he attacked you and me at the same time, Link would abandon his duties to you to protect me."

Cold seeped into Zelda's veins at hearing such a theory. "O-oh…" Her mouth struggled to form words, caught between fear of being found out and guilt that she hadn't been yet. But he didn't, she wanted to say, yet found the words stuck behind her teeth. She couldn't say it, though the sentiment was clear in Mipha's expression. "Does that…bother you?"

Mipha paused a moment, still idly holding Zelda's hands in hers. She frowned, a rare sight on the joyful princess's face. "No," she decided, "for as long as I've known him, Link has been devoted to his duties more than anything, or anyone, else. I would not expect him to abandon you for my sake."

Zelda swallowed, forcing her hands not to shake. She nodded, too flustered to speak.

As quickly as it came, her frown vanished again. "I'm glad that he chose to save you. And I'm glad that Revali acted quickly enough to save me. You and I…we're princesses. We are the beacons of hope and light for our kingdoms." Mipha paused, letting out a slight sigh. "Zelda, I have been praying for you every day. And I know that you will unlock your powers, just as I have unlocked mine." She looked up again, meeting Zelda's tear-filled eyes. "I have complete faith in you, my dear friend."

Unable to stop herself, Zelda hugged Mipha as tight as she could, evidently surprising the much smaller princess. She hardly cared that her clothes were going to get soaked. That didn't matter. Maybe no one would think twice about her wet cheeks if the rest of her was even damper. "Thank you, Mipha," she sobbed, her heart breaking at her own evil, guilt, and the horrible, horrible secret she bore in her chest. "Thank you…"

 

---

 

Thick fog hovered around them, a blanket of pale blue and gray. Floating motes of light faded in and out, winking at her in the gloom. Revali and Urbosa led the group, their ranged attacks always at the ready in case something lept out at them from the wall of obfuscating mist. Link and Impa stayed in the back, keeping watch over the trail behind them; vigilant, anticipating an assault from behind. Daruk's heavy footsteps thumped into the ground just behind the two princesses. Though significantly improved, Mipha still winced when she had to twist her body at all, even to examine her surroundings.

"This is quite the fog," Mipha observed, her voice hushed, as if the forest itself would strike at her if she offended it.

"Are we even making progress?" Revali huffed, his beak clacking in frustration. "We could just be going in circles."

"Good point," Daruk agreed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If only someone could fly above and scout the way." Zelda bit her tongue, a sharing a smile of silent laughter with Mipha.

"As if I could see anything through this muck," Revali snapped, sarcasm entirely lost upon the bird who took himself far too seriously. "Honestly, do you ever think before you speak?" When he turned to fuss more at Daruk, he paused, spotting the two girls in their silent giggle at his expense, and quickly turned back around, his feathers fluffed around his neck.

"Getting lost is the least of our worries," Urbosa said, nervous sparks prickling over her hands. "If something attacked us, we wouldn't see it coming."

The same thought had been swirling around Zelda's head since they'd entered the strange forest. Stories of odd monsters, ghosts, skeletal foes, and trickster spirits flooded unbidden to her mind. She kept checking the timepiece on her Slate. Though they'd only been walking an hour, and had many more until sunset, she couldn't see the sky or sun through the fog. If they didn't get out of the woods by the moon's rising, they would certainly be lost forever.

She took a breath, trying to calm herself. Damp, old wood and hanging moss filled the air, a miasma of ancient magic - the untamed, wild magic of the earth, vestiges of Farore. Not evil magic, like the kind she read about in the little history they could find on the Calamity, that glowed pink and red and reeked of brimstone and iron. Not the holy magic of the priestesses of Hylia. Even the magic of the pilots, tied to the elements of their homelands, could be channeled and harnessed, refined. A shudder ran down her spine. The magic of the wild would do whatever it pleased, regardless of consequence. That terrified her more than anything else.

"Yes," Zelda agreed, "we must be prepared for even the most," the flash of something in the corner of her vision caught her attention, bringing her to a stop as she got a better look at the manifestation of her anxious thoughts, "unus-u-al…" She did not expect her greatest fears to shake colorful maracas. "Huh?"

"Shaka!" The massive spirit, slowly becoming more solid before her eyes, danced and bounced. Like a round, exuberant tree, it shimmied and laughed, the shaking leaves on top of its head joining the music of its strange instruments. "Finally, finally, finally! Somebody finally sees me!"

As strange and alarming as the being was, Link appeared the most on edge, quickly rushing forward to put himself between the princesses and the dancing, nonsense-singing…

"Korok!" Mipha gasped, her eyes widening. "You're one of the forest children!"

This thing? Zelda frowned, taking a step back from the delighted spirit. It…didn't resemble the forest children of her books. She supposed it had some similarities. A broad leaf for a mask, a body like a tree, yet this being now shaking its maracas and singing was far from child-sized. It towered over Daruk!

"Yahaha! That's me! I am the one who brings song and dance to Korok Forest," it gave a flourishing spin, its maracas bursting with (rather anticlimactic) red sparks, "Hestu!"

Threatening or not, this Korok was certainly odd. Link kept his shield up.

Daruk, who never had to look up to anybody, craned what little neck he had toward the masked face of the forest spirit. "We're trying to get to Korok Forest ourselves. Mind guiding us through the fog?"

The Korok paused a moment, then slumped its shoulders. For a creature without a face, it certainly was expressive. "Oh, I'd love to get home myself," Hestu whined, "but there's big, scary monsters in the way, and I can't get past them!"

Zelda took back her earlier conclusion. This was, without a doubt, a child.

Revali scoffed, crossing his wings over his chest. "You could probably sneak right by them if you didn't have those noisy maracas."

For all of Revali's lack of tact around children, Urbosa more than made up for it, using a tone even gentler than the one she spoke to Zelda with the day before. "Nevermind him. We have business in the forest. If you lead the way, we'll take care of the monsters for you."

Its earlier despair entirely forgotten, Hestu popped back up, startling Link and Impa, whose hands flew to the hilts of their swords in anticipation. "Woohoo! Yay! Yippee!" The Korok whooped and danced and sang. Without even being home yet, the spirit celebrated as if the monsters were already slain. "Follow, follow!" For a creature as massive as it was, its body didn't have the weight it should. When it hopped around to lead the way, its stubby legs hovered and settled slowly on the ground, like a leaf caught in a breeze.

Even if they lost track of the giant Korok, which was doubtful given its size, the noise it made as it danced and sang through the foreboding woods could have woken a slumbering Hinox. With each shake, the fog retreated. Passageways opened, solid trees revealed to be mere illusions.

Skeletal hands and glowing eyes sprung from the fog and moss-covered ground, frightening the jovial Korok, but each was quickly dispatched. While Zelda hadn't heard of Stal monsters during the day, the cover of the fog must have provided them enough protection from the divine light of the skies.

Yet, it was not the stench of death and decay that reached her. But rather, the acrid scent of sulfur.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, dread settling into her core. The deeper they went, the clearer the source became. Pools of writhing, bubbling magic, concentrated evil, giving off a faint glow of pink from a dark mass. Though she'd only read descriptions of it in her studies, there was no mistaking it - the animating force that gave Stals false life. That would explain the abundance of them.

"Malice…" Zelda whispered. "Don't touch it!"

None in her party appeared inclined to do so, regarding the strange, pulsating goop with disgust and disdain. The path Hestu bounced along twisted and turned, avoiding the largest patches of malice. It hummed a pleasant song, apparently unconcerned with the pools of darkness that dotted its home. "We're almost there!" Hestu announced, pointing ahead with his maraca. "The beans lead the way!"

Sure enough, bean-shaped lanterns emerged from the haze, becoming clearer with every step. Malice leaked from the ground. They had to watch their steps carefully. In the end, Revali just flew.

The winding trail eventually ended, opening into a bright, sunlight-filled space. Birds chirped sweetly in the branches. Grass and leaves danced in the wind. A stone platform, marked in three corners by standing stones, rested in the center, below the branches of the widest, tallest tree in the woods.

She'd dreaded seeing the sword, her stomach souring every time she thought of it.

How strange, then, that someone was blocking her view.

On the steps up to the sword's dais, a lone figure stood. Dark robes covered his form, his face hidden by a heavy hood. In his hand, a light, raised high. It pulsed pink and red.

Zelda barely had a moment to gasp before the light burst, a mockery of Sheikah constellations flashing through the air. Malice bubbled up from the ground and shallow water. Then it grew.

She could only compare it to Impa's illusions, these beings of malice with burning eyes. Four illusions blocked their way - each in the shape of a pilot. And each, in unison, locking onto her .

The phantom of Urbosa rushed forward first, a scimitar of crackling red and black aimed at Zelda's chest. The real Urbosa met it, her shield slamming hard into the phantom's body.

Daruk and Revali met their illusions, crashing into each other and taking to the skies. The phantom of Mipha, however, was unchecked.

The true Zora princess raised her trident, hissing with pain as she prepared to deflect her copy's assault. Instead, Impa met the dark princess, slicing her sword through…nothing.

With every strike, the phantoms phased in and out of existence, dodging every sword and arrow a mere moment before a hit. Confusion and frustration surrounded them, swinging wildly after ghosts that could strike at them, but they couldn't hit back.

Metal clanged into stone and wood. Heavy footsteps splashed in shallow water. Bomb arrows exploded and thunder cracked, shaking the earth and air. And Zelda, the target of the attack, tried to ignore it all.

"How did you find me?!" Impa's voice echoed in Zelda's head. Link's reply followed: "Illusions don't splash."

They were just illusions. They wouldn't take damage or tire or falter. They had to target the illusionist.

She summoned a bomb to her hand and threw it as hard as she could. Sensing danger to its master, Daruk's copy batted it away, smashing the bomb into a tree on the other side of the battlefield.

Real and false pilots clashed, locked in combat with themselves. Impa and Mipha barely held off the Zora's copy. Link rushed to drive off every shadow that drew too close to Zelda, seeming to fight all four copies at once. Sooner or later, her friends would wear out.

"The magician," Zelda said, her voice trembling with fear. "We need to kill the magician!"

Immediately, Link's attention snapped toward the pedestal, from where the puppet-master directed his toys. Link's boots splashed through the water, his sword aimed at the magician's gut.

Red light flashed, Link's form disappearing in the burst of malice. His cry of pain dug like claws into her chest. His armor slammed onto stone.

The magician stumbled, his focus temporarily broken. The illusions flickered. Link had landed a hit - but it wasn't enough.

"Kill her!" The magician shouted, clutching his arm, holding high the source of his magic. Crimson stained his hand.

The rushing blades of phantom friends surrounded her, descending as quickly as the darkness at the snuffing of a candle. Yet, the fear that seized her was not for herself. She ran toward the pedestal, heedless of the danger, a scream rising in her throat. "LINK!"

Electric blue met her eyes - then flooded her vision. The battlefield disappeared in a flash of blue, blindingly bright. When she at last blinked away the haze, the phantoms were gone. Link struggled to his feet, trying to catch his breath.

Behind him, the sword continued to glow.

Silence fell. Seconds, hours, a lifetime. Zelda couldn't tell. Everything stopped, as if the whole world held its breath - waiting, waiting for the hero to take his sword.

He hesitated. Turning back to the pilots, he met her eyes again. He shifted to Mipha, and back again. The sword pulsed. Link's expression twitched; pained, confused, and…angry. Brighter, insistingly, the sword pulsed again.

In all of the prophecies, all of the stories, all of her nightmares and anxieties and despairing spirals, she had never considered this possibility.

She never expected the hero to refuse.

His face hardened, his brow furrowed, his attention now fiercely locked on the magician that tried to back away. The sword pulsed again, quick flashes of light, like the Guardian's whistles. Though she couldn't hear it, she had no doubts in her mind - it spoke.

He faced the sword, gripped the hilt in both hands, and pulled.

The sword came free from the stone with a burst of light, an echo of the flash that dispersed the shadowy enemies. Link turned, raised the point of the blade to the pale, terrified face of the magician, and darted forward.

The magician yelped, splashing as he tried to scramble away, raising his magical orb even higher. With a crush of his fist, the orb sparked bright pink. Constellations wrapped around the magician.

Link's sword pierced empty air.

He stumbled forward, the point of his sword splashing into the shallow water. His chest rose and fell; his hand trembled, the sacred sword gripped with rage.

Zelda held her breath, unsure of what to do next. A thousand thoughts flew through her mind. Relief, joy, guilt, fear, mixing together and overlapping so much that she hardly knew how to begin sorting through it.

One person had no such difficulty. Beside her, Mipha let out a half-strangled sob. She dropped her trident, the weapon splashing into the flooded grass and clattering on stone, and ran. Bursts of water followed her steps, the whole marsh shaken by her cries.

Link immediately gave chase, calling for her. "Mipha! Mipha, I'm sorry!"

A rush of wind buffeted him; Revali's powerful wings sent Link him staggering back toward the pedestal. "Haven't you done enough, hero ?" He spat, launching one last gale before flying after Mipha into the woods.

Link stared after her, unmoving, save for the tremble of anger and the slightest distortion of his face, fighting hard to keep his expression neutral.

Zelda's heart broke, though not in the manner she expected. Slowly, she approached him, wary that he, too, might take off running if she spooked him. "Link?" She set a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you…alright?"

His grip on the sword tightened, his knuckles white. He gave no answer, refusing to look at her.

The Sword that would Seal the Darkness gleamed, the symbol of the Triforce staring back at her from the base of the blade. Hyrule's hero at last revealed himself, the final Champion necessary to overcome the Calamity. They'd never been closer to victory.

She didn't expect it to taste so much like defeat.

---

Notes:

:3c

Chapter 12: Maintaining Appearances

Summary:

His determined, stoic expression reflected back at him in the blade. In a moment, he was changed before her eyes. Gone was the knight who laughed at Impa's jokes and played with the little Guardian and held her hand in the darkness. The knight who stood beside her was a hardened mask, the image of what a hero ought to be. He kept his attention trained on the face of the Deku Tree who confirmed all the conclusions they came to as soon as he pulled the sword from the stone pedestal. "You have been chosen by the sword to wield its power and vanquish the Calamity."

Her heart squeezed. He was chosen. The sword didn't hesitate. They were barely in the woods for a moment, they hadn't defeated a single phantom, he hadn't even gotten close to the sword until the sorcerer's dark magic flung him into it. Yet, the sword didn't hesitate to choose him. Whatever it saw in him, whatever skills he displayed, was more than enough to convince it that he was a worthy warrior. He had done in less than a minute what she couldn't accomplish in nine years of diligent study and prayer.

Notes:

Hello everyone and happy Monday! Enjoy the angst. <3

As much as Zelda wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and never come back out again, time marched onward, with or without her. The silence of the forest could not compare to the silence that hovered over the group that retraced their steps, following the still-jovial Hestu as he danced through the woods. The somber atmosphere that permeated their steps had no bearing on the Korok who shimmied and shook his maracas without a care in the world, singing a nonsensical song about a fairy boy falling down a pit into another world. It was a morbid tale, whenever Zelda bothered to tune back in, but Hestu sang it with all the exuberance of a festival dance.

The Champions walked behind her. Impa and Link led the group. Only the little Guardian had any compassion for her, staying by her side as a dutiful guard. The Master Sword didn't fit in the sheath of his previous weapon, so Link carried it in the open, his hand fitting well around the green-wrapped violet hilt. Its ethereal glow faded, a blade of white leading their way through the fog. The hero and sword seemed to fit together; an extension of him, as if it was always meant to be his.

Her hands formed tight fists at her sides. The words of the Deku Tree echoed in her mind. Her cheeks still burned, the image of Link standing beside her, refusing to look at her, burned irreparably into her memory.

"The sword you hold is the key to defeating the Calamity - to sealing the darkness," the Deku Tree rumbled. Leaves rustled far overhead, punctuating each word.

His determined, stoic expression reflected back at him in the blade. In a moment, he was changed before her eyes. Gone was the knight who laughed at Impa's jokes and played with the little Guardian and held her hand in the darkness. The knight who stood beside her was a hardened mask, the image of what a hero ought to be. He kept his attention trained on the face of the Deku Tree who confirmed all the conclusions they came to as soon as he pulled the sword from the stone pedestal. "You have been chosen by the sword to wield its power and vanquish the Calamity."

Her heart squeezed. He was chosen. The sword didn't hesitate. They were barely in the woods for a moment, they hadn't defeated a single phantom, he hadn't even gotten close to the sword until the sorcerer's dark magic flung him into it. Yet, the sword didn't hesitate to choose him. Whatever it saw in him, whatever skills he displayed, was more than enough to convince it that he was a worthy warrior. He had done in less than a minute what she couldn't accomplish in nine years of diligent study and prayer.

The Deku Tree's words rang hollow, baseless assurances of absolutely nothing at all. "Do not lose hope. The path will open for you soon." Soon, soon, that's all it had to say? Soon might be well after the Calamity appeared and slaughtered them all. Soon might be when she was bleeding out and cut to pieces by monsters, every sword in Hyrule shattered and every soldier rent asunder. What good would 'soon' do for any of them?

Her palms stung, her fingers twitching to remove her nails from the dark red marks she's left in her skin. Even in the fog, the light of the divine blade shone. Maybe Father's prediction will come to fruition, she thought bitterly, maybe a single drop of his blessing will fall upon me. She'd grab the sword herself and wring its neck for answers, if she thought that would help. The gods probably wouldn't like her threatening their perfect counter to evil. But then, how much more cursed could she be?

A small sigh of relief escaped her as they exited the fog just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. While she doubted that they would come to ruin by the Lost Woods's curse with Hestu leading their way, she was very glad to leave the eerie forest behind.

Hestu bounced and waved, shaking his maracas. "Goodbye, friends! Thank you for clearing the forest!" His stubby legs bounded over to Zelda, a jiggling tree of childlike energy. No one came to block Hestu's approach, letting the tall Korok tower over her. "This is for you, Princess!" He held out a small, golden seed in his stubby hands, plopping it into hers. "If you ever need us, plant the seed, and we will come to aid you!"

Zelda wasn't sure what sort of aid the Koroks could possibly give, but she wasn't going to refuse the gift. She gave Hestu a polite bow in farewell. "Thank you very much, Hestu. We pray that your woods remains safe for your people."

The tall Korok giggled, dancing in place. "Thank you, thank you!" He jumped and turned, dancing his way back into the fog. "Tumbling down, down, down! Dekus and Zoras and Gorons! Tumbling down, down, down! Three days and the moon crashes down!"

When the fog had swallowed up the sound of the Korok and his strange song, the group continued their journey back to the Woodland Stable.

"What's a Deku Scrub?" Mipha asked softly, barely audible to Zelda just behind her. The other Champions only had vague shrugs to give in answer.

---

Being so close to Death Mountain, Woodland Stable boasted an impressive number of travelers to and from Goron City. While they had little difficulty securing rooms the previous day, a sudden influx of travelers on their way to the opening day of the Goron jewel markets left fewer open rooms for rent. A pond to soak in and a tree to roost on were more than sufficient for some of their party, but the rest had to weigh their options. There were only two beds left. Zelda chewed her thumbnail, staring at the ledger in the front of the stable.

"Have the hero and princess share a bed," Revali sneered, taking his pick of the broiled and fried fish from the dining area. He carried two bowls on his wing. "They're practically married anyway."

Zelda pointedly ignored him, trying to work out a plan that accommodated everyone. She had no problem sharing a bed with Impa - in fact, she occasionally found that she preferred it on colder nights. Urbosa would also be an acceptable choice, and she doubted the Gerudo chief would complain about an opportunity to coddle her little bird. But, that did leave Link. She wouldn't ask either of her female companions to share a space with him. Maybe it would be best if she and Link-

"I'll camp with Daruk," Link decided for her, speaking for the first time since they'd left the Deku Tree's presence. He quickly bowed and turned to leave through the heavy tent flaps.

"W-wait!" Zelda called, reaching out to him. Her fingertips brushed the metal of his bracer - cold and unyielding. "You don't have to," she said, trying to push down the rising blush in her cheeks. "We could-"

"Respectfully, Your Highness," Link cut her off, his gaze as hard as the armor he wore, "It's better to preserve appearances."

Your Highness. His address to her repeated over and over in her head, the echo growing more painful with every step he took away from her. Your Highness. Her name was no longer worthy of his voice.

A gentle hand on her shoulder drew her out of the spiral before it took root. "Hey, Zel," Impa's voice cut through Zelda's thoughts, "I'm, uh, really hungry all of a sudden! Why don't you come get some supper with me?"

The sourness in Zelda's stomach argued strongly against the idea of food, but given that she had little other alternative without appearing momumentally rude to her friends, she nodded and followed Impa's lead.

Plates and bowls of all manner of sharable dishes covered the tables. Even though several of their companions were not making use of the stable's beds, most of them had a taste for fish. As that was the one thing they could agree on, and was readily available at this stable by the river, a large portion was put on the Crown's tab. Still, Zelda poked at the flaky fish and soft rice, only eating small portions of what Impa scooped onto her plate. She recalled Hyrule bass tasting better than this. Even the wilted greens had little flavor. She nibbled on the tail of a fried fish, listening to Urbosa and Impa discuss sword curvature. As much as she tried to pick up bits of the conversation, as it was technical enough to garner her interest, her thoughts kept returning to the Woods.

The scent of malice lingered in her nose, metallic and sulfurous. It writhed and bubbled in her mind's eye, coating and burning the grass and bushes of Korok Forest. A parody of Sheikah constellations circled the sorcerer, forming a shield of illusions that lashed out. She frowned, pushing some rice around on her plate. The man wasn't a Sheikah. He wore no mask, so he couldn't be a Yiga. He wasn't a Gerudo either, though he wore the symbol on the back of his cloak. He was a Hylian, albeit a pale and gaunt one. If he hadn't been standing, she might have thought he was a corpse. She frowned at the grains of rice she pushed with the tines of her fork. Malice brought stals to life, reanimating a dead thing.

She only caught a glimpse of him, yet that laughter was unmistakable. Whatever he was, he was mad. Madness and malice did not bode well together. A person like that, able to summon dark magic, might very well be the first crack in Hyrule's defenses against the Calamity.

"Zelda," Impa's sharp voice cut through Zelda's thoughts again, causing her to look up.

"Hm? What? I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Zelda blinked rapidly, trying to play back the last few minutes of conversation in her head, but utterly failing.

A heavy sigh from Impa was her response. "I was asking if you wanted to turn in early. You didn't sleep the night before last, remember?"

Skies, that felt like a lifetime ago. The memory of Link's lips on hers sprang unbidden to her thoughts. It had all seemed so tragic and settled, two nights ago. They had their moment, as bittersweet as it was, and she'd wept all her tears over it. For a while, the attraction was overwhelming, consuming her thoughts day and night, until she finally got a taste of reciprocity. And now…She swallowed down a chunk of wilted herbs that stuck to the back of her throat. Now, he wanted nothing to do with her.

And why would he? Now that he had the favor of the gods, he had the perspective to see her for what she was. His success only highlighted her failures, repeated failures, to harness even a fraction of the power that should have been her birthright. Were it not for her father's decree, she doubted he'd ever speak to her again. But, then, he wasn't really obligated to speak to her, even if they were wed. Once the ceremony was over, he could abandon her without consequence, and the whole kingdom would mock her endlessly for her inability to gain the favor of the gods or her husband.

"Zelda," Impa repeated, sharper this time. "Come on, you're getting tired. I can see it in that faraway look in your eyes." She rose from the table and held out her hand. "You need to sleep."

"No, I-" Zelda's voice caught, her words failing as she stared at Impa's offered hand. "I'll join you in a minute. I- I need to pray."

Impa's brows shot up in surprise, but she didn't dissuade her princess from doing the one thing Zelda was tasked with.

Quietly, Zelda slipped out of the tent and wandered around to the back. Though not many travelers made use of the small idol of Hylia in the rain-shelter, every stable kept one for weary travelers to offer their prayers, often for safety or prosperity on their journeys. A slightly-larger idol of Malanya rested behind Hylia on the stone pedestal under the simple wooden structure, but Zelda didn't think she'd offend either god too much by choosing to pray here. A part of her wondered if offering her prayers to Malanya instead would yield any results. She doubted it, but the thought amused her. Hyrule will be damned, but perhaps I'll be reincarnated as a horse.

She knelt in front of Hylia, clasping her hands firmly together and lowering her head. She rattled off the typical doxology, rushing through the words and notes until she could get to the supplication. She took a breath and focused her thoughts. "I come seeking help, Your Grace," she began, "I feel the Calamity drawing nigh. Your hero has claimed the legendary sword. Signs of malice are appearing, manifesting in the form of a dark magician. My power remains dormant still. The Great Deku Tree has said that it will awaken soon but- but when?! My friends could have died today fighting the malice, those terrible, hollow versions of themselves. If your power in me could but offer the same dispeling effect as the Master Sword's awakening, I needn't worry for their safety. Please, Your Grace, time is running out."

She paused, holding her breath. She opened one eye, peeking at her clapsed hands, hoping to see a spark of light. Only darkness covered her, thick and heavy. She sighed, bowing lower. "Your Grace, what more do you ask of me? Will your chosen hero die for your hatred of me? He- he has already suffered enough from my mistakes." She clasped her hands tighter, squeezing her eyes shut. "If not for my failures, my father would not have pledged me to him, and he would be free to marry the woman he loves. He is a warrior of exceptional strength and ability, and he deserves more than a fate of being chained to me. He…in a mere day, he has proven himself to you, enough to win your favor. What has he done that I lack? What's wrong with me?!"

Warm droplets landed on her trembling hands - she didn't realize she'd been crying. She blinked away her tears, more drops falling one by one. And still, Hylia's form remained stone-silent. Even Malanya's mask of painted wood looked on her with disdain, glaring at her from over Hylia's shoulder. How many gods could she offend at once by begging for their help? If she could tear out the offensive piece of her, to stomp it into the ground and kill it and show them that she hated herself as much as they did, would they listen?

Her head bowed again, hiding her falling tears and short, gasping breaths behind her hands clapsed in prayer. "Please, Your Grace… Just tell me…"

Yet, it was not the goddess who answered her.

A gentle song hummed, the notes strange, but the whistling tones familiar. Zelda gasped and lifted her head, her water-blurred vision revealing the little Guardian. It swayed gently from side to side, the pistons in its body whistling a melody that scratched somewhere deep in Zelda's memory, the Sheikah blue gear within turning like a music box. It watched her patiently, singing softly and rocking from side to side, like a mother lulling her child to sleep.

Warmth and light surrounded her. Soft down conformed to her body. The crackling fire of her hearth sent flickering shadows across the stone walls of her bedroom. As her eyes grew heavy with sleep, she smiled at the singing, whistling little Guardian who rocked her to sleep.

Zelda gasped, stumbling back and staring at the Guardian in shock. The music abruptly stopped, the little Guardian tilting its body in confusion.

"You-!" Zelda's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to form words. "I remember you!"

 

---

 

Rose dyed the skies, dawn creeping slowly over the Eldin foothills. Pale light shone through the gap between tent curtains, the world not yet fallen to the Calamity. Another night, but the day was not promised.

The bed wasn't nearly as big as her own back in the Castle, but it was more than enough for her and Impa. Her friend slept soundly beside her, braids of white frizzed from sleep. Zelda curled up and closed her eyes again, willing herself back to sleep for just a little while longer. Blue nightshade and silent shrooms lingered on Impa like a perfume. But, just as Zelda had convinced herself to slip back into oblivion for a few more minutes, Impa shifted beside her, turning and stretching her arms over her head.

Alas, morning would come whether she liked it or not. She yawned behind her hand, her eyes heavy with a desperate desire to rest just a bit longer. "Good morning, Impa."

"Morning, Zellie," Impa groaned, sitting up to stretch as far as she could. For someone as agile and dynamic as Impa, staying in one position for a night of rest was an oddity for her muscles and joints. She pushed back the blankets to slide out of bed; the offensive cool air made Zelda shiver. "Want me to get us some breakfast?"

"Nngh," Zelda whined, grabbing Impa's pillow and flipping it over her head to block out the morning. "Sleep for breakfast."

"That's not how it works," Impa sighed, patting Zelda's shoulder. "I'll see if I can find something sweet enough for you." When Zelda still didn't stir, Impa jostled Zelda's shoulder a little more. "Come on, time's a-wasting. We need to report back to the Castle today."

An even more frustrated whining groan escaped Zelda, a miserable, muffled sound between thick pillows. She flipped herself fully onto her stomach. If the world wanted her awake, it would have to drag her out.

For a while, Zelda thought she had won. The relative silence of the morning that followed was almost enough to lull her back to sleep. That is, until she caught the faintest whiff of something sweet and hot. Curiously, she lifted the pillow from her head, daring to peek out at the waking world with one eye.

Her mouth watered, confirming what her nose suggested. A baked apple, dripping with butter and warm spices, sat on the small table. She wiggled out from under the covers and took the plate. Melted butter pooled beneath the cored fruit, still steaming. When she poked the tender skin with a fork, the inside of the fruit gave away immediately, revealing the core and the spices stuffed inside. Her stomach growled, demanding such a delicious indulgence immediately.

She was halfway through the apple when Impa returned again, pushing back the curtain that separated their bed from the rest of the stable. A knowing smirk on her face said more than enough. She turned toward the tiny mirror on the wall and began pinning up her hair. "You're welcome," she teased.

Pink dusted Zelda's apple-sticky cheeks. "Thank you, Impa." She tried to eat the apple with a little more decorum, but it was a difficult facade. If she could, she would smash the whole thing into her mouth at once. Maybe more than one. She swallowed another (appropriately-sized) bite. "Baked apples aren't typical breakfasts in Eldin. Did you special order it?"

"Noph," Impa mumbled around the pins in her mouth, sliding each into place one by one. "Link made them."

Zelda's eyes widened in shock, now staring at the voraciously-half-devoured apple on her lap. "…Link made this?" She repeated, the words not clicking together in a way that made sense. "Why?" And when did he have the time?

With the last of her pins in place, Impa gave a non-committal shrug. "Guess he just wanted to. He was out by the cooking pot with a dozen or so of them. He suggested I bring you one, since you like sweet things," she explained, then held her hand out to take the now-empty plate.

Though Zelda had a brief inclination to lick the plate clean, she handed it to Impa. The warm, buttery texture and caramelized flavors lingered on her tongue. "Will you…thank him for me?" Zelda asked, unsure of what else to say, but feeling as though his thoughtfulness ought to be reciprocated with basic cordiality. He was too good of a man, and too important of a figure, for her to idly disrespect him. Though she'd known him to be extremely fond of butter-baked apples, based on his near daily request for the fruit whenever they had supper at the Castle, she'd never expected him to actually cook them himself.

Impa nodded, pushing back the curtain. "Can do. Are you going to fall back asleep when I leave?"

Blushing, Zelda shook her head.

"Good," Impa laughed softly, letting the curtain fall back again as she walked away, giving Zelda some privacy to change into her day clothes. "We're ready to go as soon as you're dressed!"

 

---

 

As much as the Guardian complained when it was held by Impa or Link, it almost seemed to purr in Zelda's arms. She could have put it down after they crossed the damp marshes and the danger of it getting stuck in the mud had passed them, but she walked on toward the Castle with the Guardian held tightly to her chest. Her own kind of shield.

Almost immediately after crossing the final bridge and entering Castle Town, the atmosphere shifted. Without a sheath to hide the Master Sword, every eye turned toward the sacred blade; every tongue wagged with rumor and speculation. Stoically, Link stayed the course, leading the way back to the Castle. Whatever whispering followed them did not reach his ears.

She should, perhaps, have been more surprised to see her father waiting for them on the bridge. Zelda's stomach sank. Two iron doors swung open as they approached, revealing the King of Hyrule himself just behind. Gold and gems gleamed in the cool sunlight, giving King Rhoam an almost divine glow.

At once, the party halted. Link and Impa knelt before the king. The Champions dipped their heads in respect. And Zelda, only Zelda, dared to look him in the eye. Her grip on the little Guardian tightened, holding it closer at her chest. If he would hate her, she might as well give him a reason.

Yet, it wasn't her, or the Guardian, that caught his attention. Like everyone else, he was transfixed by the Sword that Seals the Darkness. He stroked his beard, his brows furrowing the longer he observed it in Link's hand. "So it's true, then. You really have been chosen by the sword."

Though Link didn't audibly answer, a quick nod was his confirmation. Chosen by the gods, and still subservient to a mortal man.

"Hm," King Rhoam hummed in thought, his gaze briefly traveling to Zelda, then back again to the hero. "Very well. Come with me, Sir Link."

Without waiting for any further answer, or giving any greeting at all to his daughter or the pilots, her father turned back toward the Castle. And Link, without looking back at her, followed.

Her cheeks burned with shame. Could her humiliation get any worse?

 

---

 

Evidently, it could.

Without word from her father or Link all day, her anxious energy demanded an outlet; walking in the gardens would have to do. Sweet nectar floated on the breeze. Blooming flowers and vibrant green surrounded her. Mud still stained her boots, each step crunching over loose stones in the otherwise well-kept garden. Metallic legs scuttled dutifully beside her; the little Guardian had not left her side since the Master Sword rose from its stone prison.

Blue-tinted images flickered across the Sheikah Slate's screen. Landmarks, plants, insects, animals, all manner of scientific and beautiful photographs filled her album. Memories of her research, preserved in time. Flowers never wilted when preserved in captured light.

"You were pretty amazing, too, Your Highness," Link's voice echoed in her ears. Fresh from the high of battle, his wounds wrapped by Sheikah medics, the miracle of his accomplishment hadn't yet dawned on him. His words of pride and wonder were not for himself. "I was terrified when you said you wanted to help in the fight, but you held your own. The way you used the Slate, I've never seen anything like it. You know those mechanics as well as I know a sword and shield."

She blinked rapidly, dismissing the unwanted memory. She didn't need this. She needed to throw herself into her research. What confidence she'd gained with the Slate was unrelated to his praise. She'd done this on her own. She was going to make something of herself, regardless of what the rest of the kingdom thought. She was capable.

"Nice work, Princess!" Link laughed, watching a Yiga blademaster crash into a summoned block of ice. His arms carried her, his hands firm on her legs and waist. "Think you can keep the Yiga at bay for me?" He hadn't meant it as a question. He trusted her. He couldn't fight while holding her - he trusted her to fight for them both.

She turned down another path, away from the center of the garden. Water splashed in the central fountain, bubbling up from the earth. She could smell the minerals mixing with floral perfume. The waters of Central Hyrule were not as sweet as those that flowed in Lanayru. Her palace did not boast as many fountains. Her stones were dull and gray. She preferred gold to silver.

"My apologies for not being Princess Mipha," she said bitterly, wrapping up the remainder of her gauze left over from tending to his wound. He'd fought her every step of the way when she tried to help him, claiming a lack of propriety.

And yet, he didn't return her bitterness with his own.

"I wouldn't want you to be her," he'd said. "You're you."

She gripped the Slate tighter, continuing to swipe through the photos. The little Guardian followed closely, a short whistle of concern letting her know that she needed to slow down. Its scuttling legs had less steadiness on the shifting pebbles of their path. She slowed her pace, taking a deep breath. She blinked away frustrated tears.

It hadn't been that long ago that she walked these pathways. She hadn't seen them in the daytime since…

"Clearing that forest is the beginning of the end for me," she lamented, her thoughts as dark as the night around them. Moonlight shone on his white glove, extended toward her.

"Then let's not spend your final moments here."

She should have gone back to her room and tried to sleep. Or, better yet, she should have frozen him in Stasis, as she'd planned, and run off to enjoy her final moments of freedom alone. Because, if she had spent that night alone, she could have pretended that she was marrying a friend - only a friend.

"Now you know?" She waited, holding her breath.

His eyes shimmered, a lake reflecting the rippling moon. "Now I know."

The taste of his lips lingered. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, trying to recall every detail. It had been so much to take in, all at once. They were both so certain. It was tragic, and simple, and over and done. They would have gone their separate ways. He would have stayed with the princess he loved.

She could almost laugh at the absurd irony of their confession. They'd have a thousand chances, bound to each other by fate's cruel design. He might even say that he loved her, though she doubted that he did now. How could he? How could Hylia's chosen hero possibly love her most hated descendant? Divine luck had to snatch away the one fragile bloom she'd allowed to grow - its petals shattered in the frigidity of the Goddess's disdain.

She was about to turn back toward the palace doors when a new, present voice carried on the wind, barely heard over the bubbling fountain.

"Is there no way you can get out of the arrangement?"

Zelda's eyes widened, Mipha's words sending a shock of panic through her veins. She ducked down behind the flower bushes, daring to peek through the leaves and petals. Across the garden, Mipha walked toward the central fountain. The hero, his sword now protected by a proper sheath fit for the sacred blade, walked beside her.

"I've tried. The king is adamant that I marry his daughter," Link answered.

"But why?!" Mipha demanded, her voice tight with unshed tears. The water in the fountain bubbled up higher, threatening to spill over the edges.

Link winced. "He's convinced that it will help her unlock her sealing powers," he explained, though he sounded as unpersuaded as Mipha. Merely repeating her father's words, just as Zelda had done all her life. "I- I don't know if it will or not. But I understand his reasoning. The chances of Hyrule's survival are dismal until Zelda can wield her bloodline's magic."

The Zora princess sat on the side of the fountain, her clawed hands folded on her lap. Her headpiece clinked as she lowered her gaze toward her reflection in Hyrule's waters. "…It's about duty, then."

Link shook his head. "It's about you, Mipha." He moved to sit beside her at the fountain, but evidently thought better of it when Mipha shot him a sharp glare. His hands formed tight fists at his side. "If I can help Zelda, and she can protect Hyrule, you'll be safe. I don't know what will happen to you, or to any of us, if the Calamity returns unchecked."

While Zelda had never known the sweet Zora princess to be unkind to anyone, she supposed such circumstances might warrant a change in behavior. Mipha's fins trembled, tears rolling down her white cheeks. "That's a very roundabout way to say 'I love you, but…'"

"Mipha," Not deterred any longer, Link knelt in front of Mipha, taking her hands in his. When she finally looked at him again, his words, words she never should have heard, cracked Zelda's heart into crystalline shards. "I don't love Zelda like I love you."

A rush of air flew from Zelda's lungs, her vision distorted by rapidly forming tears, an overflowing fountain. She clutched the Slate tight to her chest, what was left of her heart beating against cold metal. Stones shifted beneath her as her knees hit the ground.

He didn't love her. She knew that. She'd known that for months. What kind of an idiot was she?! Why did she believe him?! He didn't love her. He was happy enough to kiss her for a night and then forget any of it ever happened. Skies, could she be any more foolish?! He never loved her! He only said what she wanted to hear.

Whrrrr-eep! A sharp whistle pulled her from her spiraling thoughts, drawing her back to reality. A reality in which they absolutely heard the little Guardian's whistle.

Cold panic flooded her. She quickly wiped her eyes and jumped to her feet, still trying to stay below the sightline of thick-leafed bushes. Quickened steps flew across the garden, furious shame burning to the tips of her ears.

She flung open the door, and would have slammed it shut again, if not for the little Guardian scuttling in behind her. It gave a grateful whistle at not being crushed or locked out, then chimed in greeting to someone down the hall.

Zelda whirled around, a smear of white in her tear-blurred vision.

"Zellie?" Impa ran, her broad hat bouncing against her back. "Are you alright?"

At least now the gossipmongers would have something worthwhile to talk about. Zelda shook her head, unable to choke out even a word of explanation. She only hugged her friend tightly, buried her face in Impa's shoulder, and tried to cry as silently as possible.

Chapter 13: Champion Blues

Summary:

Following the presentation of the Champions, Zelda is presented to her future in-laws — reflective shards of the hero.

Notes:

Good morning and happy Monday! Posting this from a train pulling into Atlanta. I spent the weekend in New Jersey with my grandmother and took the train there and back. I’ve never been on a passenger train before. It’s been a really fun experience! Really wish we had more of these down south.

Pricked fingers and strained eyes marked Zelda's first week of engagement to the hero blessed by the gods. With the final Champion discovered, they were at last prepared for the Calamity. Everything was perfect - except, of course, for her. The high priestess found mention of a sacred blue worn by the Champions of old. A bolt of Champion Blue, as it was dubbed, fell into her hands.

"The first incarnation of Hylia created a shawl that she gifted to her hero," the priestess sneered, dropping the bolt onto Zelda's desk, knocking her notes and books onto the floor. "Consider it a prayer of imitation."

She blinked away furious tears, sitting on her bed with the Gerudo's sash draped across her lap. White thread bobbed in and out of the fabric, filling in the chalk shape of Vah Naboris. Her fingers fumbled with the thread, the needle getting stuck for the third time this half hour. She tugged and tugged, trying to pull the thread through.

SNAP!

Frayed white wisps dangled from the freed needle. A screech of frustration, followed by Zelda angrily throwing the embroidery hoop across the room, got her maid's attention. The much calmer young woman set her hoop in her lap. Vah Medoh's stitching was even and full. "My lady, perhaps you should take a break from this task."

Sniffling, Zelda scrunched her knees up to her chest. She stabbed the needle into the pin cushion at her side, imagining it was Link's face. White tendrils of the remaining thread tickled the back of her hand. "What's the point?" She grumbled miserably. "They expect me to do this myself. I'll never hear the end of it from Father if he finds out I'm ignoring my duties."

"Perhaps," her maid agreed, rising from the plush chair across the room. She picked up the tossed hoop, and set it onto her much smaller pile of work. Though Fenn had taken on more to start with, she was finished with it far faster than Zelda ever could be. She plopped back down in the chair and resumed her work. "I'm certainly not going to tell him," without looking up from the hoop, she waved her hand as she spoke, "Imagine all the trouble I'll get in if the king finds out I'm aiding and abetting the princess in shirking this very important needlepoint."

As mad as Zelda wanted to be, she couldn't resist Fenn's dry humor. She cracked a small smile despite herself. "What should I do? I'd feel awful letting you do all the work for me."

Fenn merely shrugged. She finished the final stitch of Vah Medoh's wing, tied the sealing knot, and snipped the thread with small scissors. "Why don't you read something?" She suggested, picking up what was left of Vah Naboris. "You can read it to me, if you'd like. So long as we stay in here, your father will be none the wiser about who is doing the sewing."

Zelda swallowed, unsure. She tenatively slid off of her bed, her bare feet padding across the thick rugs on her floor (an excellent place to lose pins, as Fenn often reminded her when Zelda was too careless). She paused at her bookshelf, tapping her lips in thought. There wasn't much here that she hadn't read. A few textbooks, some religious texts, a field guide, a few novels. She frowned, pulling one of the thin novels from its snug position between Hyrule's Historia and Zonai Arts & Artifacts. Her cheeks dusted with pink as she remembered some of the more interesting passages in this story. Still, as she flipped the cover over, the printed lovers embracing each other, she decided that at least this one would be entertaining - to laugh at, if nothing else.

She plopped down onto her bed, laying on her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. "Are you a fan of romances, Fenn?"

A curious, amused glance was her reply. "Only ones that are in good taste, of course. We have our virtuous sensibilities to maintain."

Zelda snorted, biting her lip. "Lurelin's Passion is very virtuous." She flipped open the well-worn cover, already amused by her annotations that marked up every page. She cleared her throat. "The sea foam rolled in with the tide, salt water lapping against Mari's bare…"

---

She might have felt bad about letting Fenn do most of the sewing, if not for the utter drudgery of the ceremony the garments were required for. At least she felt a little gratification in her accomplishment - the tunic didn't look that bad. No one could tell that she'd accidentally sewn one of the sleeves on inside-out. The white embroidery hid the awkward resewn seam very well.

The warm sun streamed in through tall windows, illuminating the triangular crest in the center of the sanctum. Her long, ceremonial gown brushed the floor as she took her place, leaving the soon-to-be-dubbed Champions behind her. Revali stood tall on the end, his feathers preened and gleaming. Urbosa steadied her hand on her scimitar's hilt, polished to perfection. Daruk's chains clanked as he looked around at the assembled crowd of guests and nobility. Beside him, Mipha gripped her trident, pretending to study the jewels set into fine silver. And, in the center, his attention fixed straight ahead, his expression unreadable, the final Champion stood behind her.

"Welcome, warriors!" Her father's voice boomed out over the crowd of assembled Hyruleans. The symbols of the tribes hung on Hylian gold and blue banners, a retinue from each tribe standing in support of their own Champions. Zelda's stomach twisted into nervous knots, recalling the royal crest that hung behind Link - not merely a statement of his Hylian lineage, but a claim on him.

"I'd like to thank you for joining me here today, and for your bravery in accepting this fateful task," her father continued. The stone wings of the loftwing behind him seemed to rise out of his back. If she squinted, he might be an awkward Rito. She'd prefer an awkward Rito. "I officially appoint you Hyrule's Champions and bestow upon you this sacred garb."

Zelda bit her lip. As anxious as this whole experience made her, there was still a satisfying rebellion in how the garments were created. Though instructed to weave prayers to the Goddess into every stitch, she'd already offended Hylia irreparably. Fenn's laughter was more joyful than a prayer.

"That blue is a symbol of the royal family, one that has been passed down for countless generations," the king's voice carried through the chamber. Guards stood on either side of him - stoic, resolute, staring straight ahead. They didn't look at her in the same way that Link didn't. Everything was duty now. He would marry her out of duty, but there it would end. His duty to Hyrule did not include kindness.

She clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides. The eyes of the whole kingdom were on her. Watching, waiting. Waiting to see how she would fail.

"Those garments you now wear were all crafted by my daughter, Zelda." She shifted uncomfortably, the warmth of her gown starting to bother her. The circlet on her brow was too tight for the braids. She felt like her head was getting squeezed. Would the one thing she'd ever be praised for be the task she didn't actually complete?

"Zelda," her father said her name again, snapping Zelda's attention back to him. Cold dread rushed through her veins. Her father's hard gaze fell on her, so small and insignificant, so far below the throne. "I trust you with a task only a daughter of the Royal Family can fulfill."

Her heart slammed against the cage of her chest, her eyes widening, hardly daring to breathe. The harsh eyes of her peers and detractors followed her every movement. Would this finally be it? Would a kind word pass his lips? Her heart begged him to give her something, anything! Just the smallest snatch of praise! Anything to cease the tongues of the hissing snakes who laughed at her expense.

For once, his features softened when he looked on her. For once, she imagined that he might have seen a daughter. "By Hylia's light, lead our Champions, Princess. And together, protect our kingdom from the threat of Calamity Ganon."

The breath rushed from her chest. Was that- did he really just…? She swallowed, staring straight up at the man who held her fate in his hands. Did he intend to imply her competence?

All eyes turned back to her again. Anticipation rose, tingling against her skin like static. She struggled to find her voice. One crack, one false start and all of this would be for naught. She took a breath. "I shall, Father."

Her voice did not ring as her father's did. She was drowned in the tapestries and rugs, the furniture and courtiers and guests. Her fingers twitched. Another princess didn't worry about the strength of her voice. Another princess didn't disappoint her father. Another princess no doubt hated the ground that Zelda walked on - and rightly so.

When the Champions were dismissed and smoke-filled fireworks rumbled high overhead, Zelda tried to slip quietly away. The day was young, and the sun warm, and Impa brought daily updates on the progress of the Sheikah researchers. With all the festivities at a close, no one would miss the Heir to a Throne of Nothing.

"Zelda," her father called, his voice echoing far less in the corridor between the sanctum and the library, yet still undeniable. "A moment, if you would."

She closed her eyes and took a breath, not yet daring to face him. She could already hear his scolding. You should be out raising morale among the Champions! You'd better not be running off to play scholar again. Don't you know how important your role is? Steeling herself, she turned slowly, her hands gripping her long skirt in tight fists. "Yes, Father?"

Though not quite the difference between Mipha and King Dorephan, her father still towered over her. His beard, spilling over gold and silk, was a stormcloud. Yet, at a closer distance, his voice did not thunder. Something in his expression changed, softened. "I spoke with Link's family this morning. They've requested an audience with you."

Zelda searched his face for any sign of the anger, frustration, or disdain he usually held for her. Yet, in his eyes, all she could perceive was…fondness? She tried to make sense of it. Her father was fond of her, he loved her, this she never doubted. In a rare instance, his love for her was not overshadowed by his love and duty toward Hyrule.

Naturally, Zelda reasoned, anything to do with this arrangement aligns itself perfectly with his plans. So long as she acquiesed, behaved herself and accepted her fate without complaint, he could look on her with fondness. Compared to pleading with an uncaring Goddess every morning and evening, meeting only divine silence in reply, binding her life to that of a man who despised her was a simple task.

She took his offered arm and allowed herself to be led to the slaughter.

---

The northern drawing room was a favorite of Zelda's, with light streaming through large windows no matter the time of day. She'd redecorated it herself several years ago, replacing some of the older furniture, hanging new paintings of flowers and birds on the walls, most of which she painted herself. The harp in the corner probably needed tuning, as Zelda hadn't had the opportunity to play it in quite some time.

But as fine as the room itself was, it seemed to not give any pleasure to the current occupants.

Though she knew some details of Link's life before coming into her service, she'd yet to put a face to the names. Sir Arn was much as she expected. He rose a little slowly from the chair, his leg clearly causing some difficulty. He'd been honorably discharged from the king's service not long before Link joined. His father's retirement was part of Link's motivation. A son of the royal guard, Link would constantly be in his father's shadow. That burden was slightly more bearable when his father's shadow didn't follow him around. He and Link shared much of the same features, the same nose and chin. She imagined that Link would look much like his father when he lost the roundness of youth. At least Sir Arn was handsome in his middle age.

Lady Uma was the source of those striking blue eyes, though seemingly not much else. She had the darker, tanned complexion of Faron, though not quite as distinct as Lurelin. Sharing a border with Necluda no doubt led to much intermixing. Wherever she hailed from originally, she wore the fashion of Hateno well enough.

Then, there was Aryll. The girl was older than Zelda expected, given Link's infrequent mention of her. She took more after her mother - tanned, healthy, with sun-streaked dark hair and her father's brown eyes. Yet, Link had described her as being sassy and excitable - the little creature who observed the room and conversation with silent contemplation was not at all as he had described.

Zelda took a seat across from them on one of the plush chairs. Her father made quick introductions before he was pulled away to some other task, though the introductions were hardly necessary. She surmised well-enough who they were. And they, in turn, had no doubts of her identity. She had been the center of the kingdom's attention not half an hour ago.

Tea splashed into porcelan cups. While not typical for a princess to serve anyone, an exception was made for matters of society - ranking or not, this family would soon be connected with her own. Respect was necessary. General pleasantries exchanged, Zelda found herself at quite a loss for what to say. "Your son has made himself the favorite of the king," while true, was not exactly how she intended to begin a conversation with her future-in-laws. "I'm rather surprised that you aren't with him now. He's just been appointed Champion."

Lady Uma smiled a little, raising the cup to her lips. "We met with him before the ceremony, and we have plans to meet with him this evening. He told us that this was the most likely hour we could secure an audience with you, Your Highness."

Having just finished pouring tea into her own cup, ettiquete requiring her to consider herself last, she took a moment to consider the implication. She had little doubt that Link was quite familiar with her habits by now. He'd helped her sneak off after formal events on several occassions. "I see," she hummed in thought, stirring more than the recommended amount of sugar into it her cup. "And, what is it that you wanted to speak with me about?"

"We just wanted to meet you!" Aryll cut in, grinning broadly. "You're a real princess and all! Dad and Link have talked about you a lot!"

A slight blush colored her cheeks, quite startled at the girl's outburst. She hadn't known Sir Arn personally, though his face was familiar enough. He was one of dozens of royal guards in her father's service, and she could easily imagine that she'd run into him at some point during her life. Still, the idea that Link spoke of her to his family was…odd, especially given the coldness he'd shown to her as of late. But then, she thought, he might well have spoken more highly of me before he knew the truth. She hid a frown behind her teacup. "I suppose you wanted to confirm the rumors for yourself, then?"

"Rumors?" Aryll asked, tilting her head in much the same way that Link did whenever she said something that confused him.

For what it was worth, Sir Arn was not at a loss as to what Zelda was referring. He set his cup down on the table. "That's not why we came, Your Highness, though I will say that our son has never spoken an ill word against you, if that is your concern."

So, he hadn't spoken of her at all since he pulled the sword. That was the only explanation that made any sense to her.

"I- I'm glad to hear that," Zelda started, unable to hold his family's gaze. She studied her troubled reflection in her over-sweet tea. "He's always been…very kind." Before. She took a sip of her tea, unsure of what else to say. She didn't want to insult his family, or him in front of his family. Some daughter she'd be to them if they started on such a sour note.

Lady Uma's eyes held the same kindness that Link's once did, when he bothered to look at her at all. The lines on her face weren't set into a frown, but crinkled in the corners of her eyes - a mark of a lifetime of laughter. She was glad for that. She wanted her subjects to be happy, wherever they were. It made the pain of her disappointment in herself sting just a little less. "From what he told us, you are much the same, are you not?"

Surprised, Zelda blinked at them. "M-me? How so?"

Aryll wiggled in her seat, grinning as if she could hardly wait to begin her stories. "He told us you were nice to everybody! And that you worked really hard on all your tech-y stuff!" Her eyes sparkled with wonder. "Is it true you can summon ice and explosions and freeze monsters and move metal from really far away?" The girl finally took a breath at the end of her rushed question.

Again, Zelda found herself at quite the loss. "Ah, yes. That is true." She bit her lip, looking between all of Link's family, whose interest she'd assuredly grabbed. Almost no one showed this much interest in her abilities. Still, she could take this opportunity. So long as she was speaking with her future family, her father could say nothing against it. An idea sparked. "Would you like to see it?"

While no doubt the rest of Hyrule was enjoying the celebration of the newly dubbed Champions, music and chatter overflowing from the courtyard, Zelda led her small group to the research yard. Guardian parts and half-uncovered automatons littered the grass and earth. Tents bearing the Sheikah eye covered notes and tables, papers weighed down by ancient screws and bolts. With her father having given the researchers the afternoon off to enjoy the festivities, they had the space entirely to themselves.

She couldn't recall exactly when Sir Arn had left her father's service, nor could she recall the circumstances that caused him to step away from the Castle. He walked stiffly, favoring his left leg over his right. Zelda could easily imagine Link getting himself honorably discharged, as reckless and impulsive as he was. A fine enough warrior, but not immortal, even with the goddess's blessing. She hoped that Sir Arn was not a prophecy in himself. A wounded hero would do them no good in preparing for the Calamity.

But while Sir Arn regarded the Guardians with passive familiarity, his wife and daughter expressed their amazement. Aryll especially bounced between Guardian pieces, examining the inactive behemoths up close.

"Oh, wow! And they can really move?" She asked, climbing up onto one's head before Zelda could warn her against it.

"Yes, and they are quite dangerous!" Zelda called, rushing forward to try to pull Aryll away, if necessary. When the younger girl slid easily down the side of the Guardian and landed in the grass, Zelda let out a sigh of relief. She truly had no idea what she would have done in the event that the Guardian awoke and became hostile, as unlikely as such an event was. She was hardly dressed for battle, with her fine gown and too-tight circlet. "These models are part of Hyrule's first line of defense against the Calamity. They were used in the first age to seal the Calamity away."

"These models?" Sir Arn asked, raising a scar-split brow. "Are there others?"

Feeling a rare opportunity to indulge her interests, Zelda nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes! There are these, we call them stalker models, as they walk on those large metal legs you see there." She gestured toward one of the legs, the joints at odd angles and detached from the base. "There are flying models as well. We call those skywatchers. And there are stationary models that we call turrets." She nodded toward Sir Arn. "Their use is self-explanatory."

Walking between the inactive stalkers, Lady Uma ran her hand along the stone body of another, her fingertips tracing the circular patterns along the swivel joint. "They're much larger than I expected, given the stories. Are they all this big?"

"Most of them," Zelda confirmed. "But not all." She turned her face toward the Castle, pursed her lips, and whistled a quick three notes - the beginning of a very familiar song.

Her arms already full of scattered Guardian pieces, Aryll stopped beside her. "What are you whistling for?"

A response, I hope. Zelda held her breath, hoping that her message got across to the intended recipient. And, after a minute of waiting, whistles echoed back at her.

The little Guardian scuttled into the research yard, the Sheikah Slate tucked securely in the gap of its swivel joint. Pistons sang joyfully, the Guardian practically skipping to join her. It stopped right in front of her and whistled a salute. Be-whoop!

"Oh!" Aryll squealed in delight, immediately dropping into a crouch. "It's so cute!" She reached out her hand toward it, but the Guardian took a step back, giving a low whistle of warning.

"Ah, it's a little skittish of strangers, especially those who get right in its face," Zelda explained. Reaching down to take the Slate from the little Guardian, she patted its shell affectionately. "It's alright. This is Sir Link's family."

Seeming to accept the introduction, the little Guardian took a few tentative steps toward Aryll. The girl tilted her head to the left. The Guardian mirrored her. To the right, the Guardian followed. A joyful smile broke across Aryll's face. "It's dancing with me!"

Zelda couldn't help but laugh at such a display. She could easily imagine Link doing much the same. The two of them were quite a comedic pair, when they weren't on duty. Her smile faltered a little, the coolness in her chest returning, remembering that the person who wore the Master Sword on his back was not the awkward knight that sparred with a tiny Guardian or joked around with Impa or held her close in the darkness. The knight who she would marry was so altered a person that Zelda wondered if the first version of him was even real.

Yet, there was Aryll, exhibiting much the same carefree, jovial behavior. There was his mother, whose blue eyes held laughter and kindness. There was his father, whose hand on his wife's shoulder gave an even deeper pain to Zelda's heart. Had it not been for the Master Sword, and for the hateful prophecy of the Calamity, Link might have loved her like that.

She pushed the thoughts from her mind. No, he would have loved Mipha. Dwelling on unattainable possibilities would do her no good. She had only here and now, and she would make the most of it. She swiped through the Slate's screens, coming to the camera. Leaning down by Aryll, she held it up, showing Aryll the reversed image of their faces - Aryll's jaw nearly dropped.

"What's that?" She asked, immediately fascinated. "Some kind of mirror?"

"Not quite," Zelda explained. "It is a way of creating true to life images. It collects light in here," she tapped the small opening on the front, "and displays it here. With this button," she pointed to the wide circle at the bottom of the screen, "it can capture that light, creating a perfect image of a moment in time."

Immediately, Aryll jumped to her feet. "Can it capture all of us in an image? And can I take a copy back to show my friends that I really did meet the princess?"

"O-oh! Yes, I suppose I could do that." She hadn't thought about transferring the images to a physical copy, though she was sure Purah and Robbie could figure it out, if she asked. "Alright, if we're going to get all of us in it, we might need to take it from a wider angle. Little friend, could you assist?"

At her command, the little Guardian took the Slate from her. Scuttling back, the egg plopped itself into the grass, holding the Slate with one claw, another poised to hit the capture button.

Sir Arn and Lady Uma stood just behind her, and Aryll practically vibrated in excitement at her side. Amused, Zelda set her hand on the girl's shoulder.

The camera clicked several times before the Guardian returned it to her. Zelda took the Slate back and swiped through the photographs, three in total, all near-perfect copies of each other. And in each, a spot of blue far behind them caught her interest.

While Link's family marveled at the Slate's abilities, Zelda turned her attention back to the Castle, where a certain knight in Champion Blue had stopped on the archway, leaning against the crenellations. Her cheeks flushed red, suddenly imagining how long he'd been watching them. Well, she thought, if he wanted to see me shunned by his family, he'll be sorely disappointed. Turning back to the delighted sister, Zelda pointedly ignored Link. Even if he hated her, his family liked her. She hoped that drove him mad.

---

Orange and violet dyed the skies, the setting sun drawing the day's festivities to a close. Guests began to trickle back out of the Castle. Locals returned to their homes, those staying within the Castle walls settling in for the evening. As there was food and drink enough for most of the day, Zelda's presence was not required for a formal supper. This suited Zelda perfectly well, allowing her to slip unnoticed to the library. Few within the Castle had much interest in books when music and dance was available, leaving the quiet of the library for Zelda's personal enjoyment.

The last of the sun's golden rays shone on the pages of the latest report from the Ancient Tech Lab. A newly concocted lubricant allowed the propellors of locked skywatchers to turn again, and the first test flights of these models had gone very well. The targeting sensors weren't calibrated yet, unfortunately, and the labratory sustained some cosmetic damage from a stray blast getting a little too close. With her work on adjusting the focus of the Divine Beasts, Zelda could have easily solved their calibration issues - if only her father would let her leave this golden prison.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she flipped the page over, the report continuing to the back. But as her eyes briefly left the page, she caught sight of a rare visitor to her secluded corner.

Aryll appeared not to have noticed Zelda yet, her attention drawn in fierce concentration to the spines of histories, running her tanned fingertips along the lettering. She pulled out one book, flipped through the first few pages, closed it, and placed it back on the shelf. She repeated this series of actions several times before Zelda's curiosity got the better of her.

"What are you looking for?"

The girl jumped, her eyes wide like a startled rabbit. "Your Highness!" She dropped into a rushed, awkward curtsey. "Very sorry! I didn't realize you were here!"

That Zelda could easily believe. She hadn't yet lit a candle to illuminate her reading, and the growing shadows hid her well enough. "It's quite alright. I'm not offended." She set her papers to the side and rose from her plush chair. "I'm quite familiar with this library. Is there anything in particular you'd like to read?"

Aryll shifted on her feet. Her eyes tracked the names of the books along the lower shelves. "I'm trying to find out more about the Master Sword."

"The Master Sword?" Zelda thought for a moment. "I think I know what you're looking for. Give me a minute."

No one in the Castle knew these books better than the princess who hid among them. She'd read just about every page the library had to offer, from science to theology to history to crafting. While she retained much of the information, she had a far more useful skill: knowing where to find the answer to just about any question.

After pulling books from various shelves, climbing up and down ladders, and getting extremely frustrated with whoever put a cookbook in the geology section, Zelda motioned for Aryll to follow her to one of the large tables in the center of the room. She set out her assortment, lit a candle, and sat down across from her future sister. "The Spirit of the Hero is a good place to start," she tapped a thick, well-worn book with a green cover and gold lettering. "It's a collection of oral histories and legends about the hero." Moving on to the red cover beside it, she tapped the silver lettering. "Hyrule's Historia is a good overview of the topic, if you just want general information." Last, she pushed forward a cream-bound, plain book. "Songs of the Goddess is a hymnal, but there are several that address the creation and purpose of the Master Sword, among many other topics."

Aryll's eyes widened in wonder as she picked up Historia, flipping through the pages. An illustration of the Master Sword opened before them. She scanned over the short paragraphs, frowned, closed the book, and moved on to the green.

While Aryll amused herself with her studies, Zelda returned to her own, opening back up her notes from the Tech Lab. Not long after she'd resumed her work, however, Aryll closed that book and moved on to the hymnal, flipping through those pages with increasing frustration. Curiously, Zelda set her notes back on her lap. "If you aren't finding the answers you're looking for, perhaps we can start with the question. What do you want to know about the sword?"

Huffing a little, Aryll shut the hymnal. "How to put it back."

Zelda's brows shot up in surprise. "I- I'm sorry? Put it back?"

"Put it back in the forest!" Aryll opened the green book again, coming to an illustration of the Lost Woods. "If the sword chose him, there must be a way for it to un-choose him." She ran a hand through her hair - the action so familiar that it made Zelda's chest ache. "The stories all say that the hero can put the sword back after the evil has been defeated, but none of them address how to put it back before the evil shows up."

Trying and failing several times to come up with a coherent response to that, Zelda settled on the only question that came to mind: "Why?"

Tears shimmered in Aryll's eyes, brown and warm as the earth. "Because I don't want my brother to die."

Each word struck Zelda square in the chest, knocking the air from her lungs. "Oh…" Not even in the Castle a full day, and already the rumors of Zelda's incompetence had caught up to them. She swallowed hard, remembering how much they had loved her earlier that day. How quickly they turned, much like their son.

Pages flipped, Aryll pointing to different passages. "The person who pulls the Master Sword is cursed by the gods! I mean, look at this! Evil sorcerors? Demons? Ocean gods? The Calamity itself! How is he supposed to fight any of that?! He's just my brother!"

With every tear that rolled down Aryll's tanned cheeks, Zelda's mind turned away from herself. That anyone could think she was incompetent was easy enough to imagine. She couldn't fathom anyone, especially not Link's family, not believing in his abilities. "He's a very skilled warrior."

"So was Dad." Aryll wiped her nose with her sleeve. She shut Spirit and pushed all three books away. "He was going to be a general before the Lizalfos got him."

Snow and ice flashed in Zelda's mind - wine poured on an open wound.

She reached across the table, offering her hands to the younger girl. "Aryll," she waited a moment for Aryll to take her hands, "I will do everything in my power to make sure your brother comes home." As much as Zelda disliked him for his mistreatment of her, he still loved and was loved by others. He was still the hero, their destinies bound together. If she failed to unlock her sealing power, Link, and every other Champion, would surely die. She squeezed the girl's hands, locking her vow. "Link is not going to die. I will never let that happen."

Chapter 14: Imitation is the Highest Form of Flattery

Summary:

While the Champions train to take the on the Calamity, the Goddess's Chosen Hero trains to take on a much more fearsome opponent: marriage.

Notes:

posting this while sitting in court beside a court interpreter who i would give the world to be and hang out with. god she's so cool with her pink hair and pride nails.

The days ticked by, each hour bringing Zelda closer to the end of her life. The wedding approached as steadily as the Calamity—perhaps a greater cruelty, Zelda could count these days.

The object of her anxieties and anger spent every day with her father, following him like a trained dog. While Zelda might think it amusing if Link was the most uncouth, unrefined, unpolished prince consort in the history of Hyrule, her father wouldn't have his son-in-law in any state less than perfection. She occassionally caught sight of him, especially in the mornings. The hero drilled with the other soldiers down in the courtyard. Before he drew the sword, Zelda once leaned out of her window and observed him. She told herself it was a study of the mystery of his quickness and skill. Impa had caught her and they both pretended that it was merely a study of combat.

Now, as Zelda leaned on her hand and watched the training session, the drills as familiar to her as the runes on the Slate, she could observe without needless distraction. He had no interest in her, evidenced by his failure to speak to her for the last two weeks. Therefore, she would entertain no interest in him. Her attention drifted between all of the knights in the yard. Several of them were particuarly adept warriors. Those knights didn't feel the need to dab at the sweat on their forehead with the hem of their tunic. Who did he think he was, anyway? Did he assume that every woman in the Castle would fawn over his sweat-shined muscles? She wouldn't fall for it. She looked on him with complete indifference. From the first calls to begin their training to the arrival of the king to take Link for lessons in gentility, Zelda could watch the display all the way through without his features, which she once called handsome, affecting her in the slightest.

If he wanted to be a fitter, more agile, younger copy of every other stuffy suitor who ignored her, he could do it all he wanted. It didn't matter at all to Zelda. She had more important matters to attend to in the preparation for the wedding.

First and foremost, she had to be fitted for a gown. This drudgery was not new to her. She stood on the seamtress's stool in front of the grand mirror, spinning as directed while the Castle seamstress and her assistants pinned and measured and switched fabrics in and out. White, of course, would make up the bulk of her gown. The neckline would dip no lower than a hand's width below her collarbone, cut straight across. Too-full sleeves draped over her arms, as irritating in this gown as they were in her formal attire that she wore to the Champion's ceremony. The rest of the gown was tolerable enough, falling into a loose skirt of three layers.

The most irritating piece of it had to be the inclusion of Champion Blue, like a cattlebrand on her waist. A sash of the loathsome color wrapped around her, tied into an oversized, ridiculous bow in the back, with tails nearly as long as the unecessary train that dragged behind her. The only saving grace the gown could boast was her addition: fabric Silent Princesses, dotted throughout the skirt and embroidered as blooming plants up the front of the bodice, appearing to grow from the accursed blue around her waist. The leaves of the Princess were almost as desperate to get away from the Champion as she was.

As she twisted and turned in the mirror, observing the final product that would mark her greatest humiliation yet, on a kingdom-wide scale, she let her hands rest on the sash of blue, glaring at it. A color she'd hated since her father first ordered the dyes to be created now made a visible claim over her body, proclaiming to all of Hyrule that she wasn't her own to control. The Silent Princesses were her quiet rebellion, defying her father's vision of pure white and blue. Tasteful and imperfect and green.

At least Aryll was having a good time of it. Champion Blue suited her complexion much better. White flowers dotted her skirt, a symphony of petals, much like the ones she would be tasked with scattering across the altar — the first of many offerings to Goddess Hylia.

The younger girl twirled in front of the mirror, delighting in the billowing of her skirt. Zelda couldn't fault her in that. She was beautiful, and her smile made the whole miserable ordeal slightly more tolerable.

When Zelda was given the choice of pins to decorate her hair and compliment her tiara, she noted the sparkle in Aryll's eyes, examining each one carefully. A slight smile turned Zelda's lips despite the injustice of it all. She held open the velvet-lined box.

"Which one would you recommend?" Zelda asked.

At being trusted with so great, and yet so trivial, a task, Aryll gasped in delight. "These!" She declared, picking out a matching set of golden pins set with diamonds, the gleaming precious metal fashioned in the shape of cherry blossoms along a branch. They were perfect mirrors, meant to frame the face on both sides.

Zelda took the right branch, considered it a moment, and pinned it to her hair. Taking a moment to admire the sparkle in the mirror, she nodded. "An excellent choice. May I have the other?"

Immediately, Aryll held up the left branch for her to take, which Zelda did with all delicacy. Aryll's eyes widened in wonder when Zelda tucked a loose brown curl behind her ear and pinned it in place. For once, looking at the matching branches side by side, Zelda thought the Champion Blue was slightly more tolerable, even complimentary, at least on Aryll.

"Well," Zelda set her hand on Aryll's shoulder, turning her to face the mirror, "what do you think?"

Aryll's eyes watered, her smile as bright as the sun. "I think- I think I look like a princess!"

For whatever that's worth. Zelda kept her thoughts to herself, listening to Aryll gush about how pretty they both were, comparing their skirts and flowers. Her smile remained, though Zelda's heart was far from glad - not that she'd let the exuberant Aryll know that. If only being a princess were a good thing.

Standing atop the short stool, Zelda amused herself with the apparent height difference. Aryll was almost at Zelda's shoulders normally. Now, she paced around Zelda's waist, speaking excitedly of all the things she would do if she were a real princess.

"I'd go riding every day!"

"That's not really practical," Zelda commented, not that her words were noticed by the daydreaming pre-teen.

"No one would tell me what to do!"

Zelda blew a strand of hair out of her face, watching the seamstress adjust the flowers on her skirt, trying to decide where the blossoms should go. "That would be nice," she mused. "Not exactly how it works but-"

"And I could eat as many hot buttered apples as I wanted!"

"That- Well, no, you could probably do that," Zelda smiled a little at the thought of Aryll so delighted, but her smile quickly faltered. She swallowed, remembering the brother again. The taste of apple was no longer sweet.

"Your Highness," one of the servants interrupted Zelda's despondent thoughts, approaching with a small chest in his hands. Dark wood, set with brass, and emblazoned with her family's crest. Seldom seen outside of the treasury, Zelda instantly recognized it as one of several that held ceremonial items. He stopped, holding the chest up for her. "Your father has provided a selection of crowns for the prince consort. He has asked you to pick whichever you prefer."

As much as she burned with anger at the thought of the prince consort, she couldn't help her wicked amusement. "I get to pick?" Dozens of ideas flew through her mind. Whatever she picked for him, he'd have no choice but to wear at the ceremony, and probably for a while after. She could pick something obnoxiously large, something that would leave him off balance and awkward. Or she could pick something ancient and gaudy, something that would have the courtiers laughing at someone else for a change, snickering to each other behind lace fans.

But, Aryll. The girl's eyes took in every detail of the jewels and bands inside of the chest, a gasp escaping her. "These are so pretty! Will my brother really get to wear one?"

A pang of guilt shot through Zelda's heart. As much as she wanted Link to suffer for the suffering he put her through, she couldn't do it. Aryll would suffer the embarassment by proxy, as the prince consort's sister. No, that wouldn't do.

She reached into the chest, taking out two circlets — simple, elegant. A silver circlet, set with a sapphire that reminded her of his eyes, deep blue. Curling designs wove in and around the central band, a snaking vine of concentrated moonlight. She considered it a moment, looking over the first option with intense focus. The blue would match his eyes. And he did look rather nice in silver…if she could forget where she had first seen him wear it.

In her other hand, a circlet of gold. Unlike her father's crown, which was tall and stately and set with a bright ruby, this one was softer. Shining leaves covered the band, as if a branch had been twisted and cast into pure gold. A single, large diamond gleamed on the front where the leaves formed a slight peak.

She compared both, switching between them, her lips pursed.

"Which one are you gonna give him?" Aryll asked, eyeing both options with curiosity. "They're both so pretty!"

"They are," Zelda agreed. Gold, or silver? Which would she choose?

…Which would he choose?

She handed both to the servant, setting them on top of the rest. "Give him both. Let him choose which he'll take."

"Yes, Your Highness," the servant bowed, closed the chest, and quickly exited the room.

Zelda's troubled reflection stared back at her. A true princess stood in the mirror. And an imposter stood beside her. And Zelda, watching Aryll resume her delight and enjoyment of the finest garments and jewels she'd ever worn, couldn't decide between the two of them.

---

Day after day, her father took Link to his study. When he'd finished with his drills for the morning, he was almost immediately whisked away to continue whatever training her father thought was necessary. It took Zelda years to learn ettiquete, politics, diplomacy, logistics, economics, all manner of subjects that a queen simply had to know. But, naturally, Link would excel at all of this instantly, the same way he took up the Goddess's sword without so much as a single prayer.

Scuttling legs walked beside her through the hall, metal claws clicking against stone, then muffled on carpet as they crossed from one runner to the next. The Sheikah Slate in hand, Zelda was determined to take advantage of her father's distraction. Once her father snatched Link away at mid-morning, she'd be free of both of them until at least supper. All of this meant two things: one, that her father didn't care to spend any time with her before she was married off; and two, that she now had most of the day to herself without the fear of her father's scolding.

She tapped notes into the Slate, occassionally glancing up at the hall and the rug to keep herself from tripping. The little Guardian fascinated her more and more. Whenever it was near, her runes could take on unusual properties. Bombs, magnesis, stasis, cryonis, all of these were familiar to her. Yet whenever the little one was involved, the effects were amplified, altered, occassionally entirely transformed. She was determined to discover the connection.

As the Guardian liked to whistle to itself, almost like a child humming as it followed her, she didn't pay any mind to the pitch suddenly shifting — that is, until she ran right into the open door. Her nose and forehead slammed straight into it, sending her staggering backward. "Skies," she hissed, more from embarassment than pain, rubbing away a bruise before it could form.

"Are you alright?"

Her blood ran cold, suddenly hearing a voice that hadn't been directed at her in weeks. Blinking, her face burning red, she stared in horror at Link, who apparently had just opened the door that she ran smack into. At least he had the decency to pretend to be concerned.

"Fine! I'm fine!" She assured him hastily, rubbing away the bruise that was quickly forming on her too-fair nose. She glared at him, as intimidating as she could be whilst as crimson as a tomato. "Watch where you're opening doors!"

The accusation was nonsense, but at least it had the intended affect of making him wince. Good.

She quickly stepped aside and continued on her way, leaving the confused Link to puzzle out for himself why she disliked him so much. "It surely cannot be lost on him," she huffed under her breath, loud enough only for the Guardian to hear, "that he has become the most arrogant, insufferable man in Hyrule overnight. I wish I could show him exactly what he looks like, dressed in princely clothes. It doesn't suit him in the slightest!"

An affirmative whistle followed her statement. The Guardian spun around, turning back toward Link. For a moment, she feared it would dart off and declare its preference for him too, like everyone else. But, instead, her Slate blinked to life.

Link's image stared back at her, getting smaller the farther she walked. She glanced down at the Guardian, then back at the Slate, watching the image of Link shut the door behind him and continue down the way Zelda had come. It clicked exactly when the moving image predicted.

Zelda stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening. "How did you do that?!"

A confused whistle was her reply. It raised a claw to her Slate, hopping up and down.

She squatted down beside the Guardian, confused. "Show me."

It tapped her image rune. A perfect copy of the rug stared back at her, shifting to the Guardian as Zelda moved the Slate.

The significance struck her at once. "You can transmit images, too!" She gasped in delight, immediately taking note of the Guardian's latest revealed ability. "That would be very helpful for espionage and scouting. The ability to see things from so far away. Then again," she paused, frowning, "if you can't hear what someone is saying, it's hardly useful to spy on them."

At that, her companion whistled once, scuttled away from her, and began scratching at the stone floor. Zelda immediately stood to follow, but then the Slate's image changed. Her own form stared back at her, low to the ground from the Guardian's perspective. And though she didn't hear it before, the unnerving scratch of metal on stone emanated from the Slate.

Once again, the little Guardian surprised her.

"Audible and visible transmission, instantaneously…" she observed, taking more notes. Her fingers hovered over the keys, about to save her latest entry, when a new idea popped into her mind. Her attention snapped back to the Guardian that scuttled over to her. She squatted down again to be level with it. "Listen, friend, I have a mission for you…"

---

Metal scratched lightly on stone floors, muffled again as red and blue filled the bottom of the Slate's display. From her vantage point of her room, laid on her stomach and partially hanging off the foot of the bed, Zelda held the Slate out in front of her, squinting at the shifting images transmitted to her.

"Father's study is the big door to the left. Look out for the guards," she instructed.

The Slate whistled in confirmation.

Imposing oaken doors rose from the floor of the long corridor. Two guards stood outside, white boots and red trousers, the shafts halberds on the ground. A ceramic pot filled most of the Slate's display, shadows of green leaves hanging down to hide the little spy.

She had no idea how long she'd need to wait for something to happen. With those guards and a heavy door between her and her targets, she'd just have to wait for movement.

Just as she was finishing the second chapter of her book, the Slate whistled. Zelda immediately tossed the book aside, grabbed the Slate again, and held her breath.

"Part of your duties will include acting as regent if Zelda is unavailable," her father's voice steadily rose in volume, followed by the click of a door handle. The dark wood swung open. Her father's black boots stepped into the hall, preceding Link's worn leather. When the white of the two guards turned to follow, the Guardian kept pace.

Various shadows darkened the screen - vases, statues, low-hanging tapestries, a very concerned mouser cat that did not care for the mechanical egg at all. The king's image wove and waned, but never disappeared.

"Traditionally, your authority extends to matters of economy and the military," her father continued. "But as your authority comes from Zelda's decrees, she could expand your responsibilities by delegation."

They'd probably like that, Zelda thought bitterly. Relegating her to little more than a figurehead, letting Link reign over Hyrule with all the privileges that her father had. She frowned, glaring at the knight's stoic face on the flickering blue screen.

The wide doors to the throne room opened, flooding the display with bright sunlight. Several seconds passed before the image became clear again, adjusting to the ambient light.

Her family's crest swept up toward the ceiling with golden wings, framing the throne that should have a twin beside it. The space to the left had been empty for nearly a decade.

"As the figurative right hand of the queen, yours will be this one," her father stopped before his usual throne. "The late queen's was removed to the treasury. When you bring it back, be sure to place it on the left."

Zelda swallowed hard. When? That was a surprising amount of faith to have in Link's ability to stop the Calamity. But then, her father had never doubted Link.

The angle shifted slightly, the corner of the throne taking up part of the display as the king turned his back on it, stepping toward the edge of the balcony.

"The acoustics in this chamber were designed to maximize the number of people who can hear you. Zelda's great-grandmother had a very weak voice toward the end of her life, so adjustments were made to the walls and ceiling. Just about anything you say from this spot can be heard quite clearly even in the back of the room." He paused, "Do keep that in mind, and be careful not to let your tongue be loose whenever you're up here. It is always best to discuss important matters in private, and only come out here when you have both decided what you will say."

Zelda could hardly believe her father's words! "Both of us?" She quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. While her father and the guards didn't notice, her voice a disbelieving whisper, Link's body shifted, turning back toward the throne.

"Abort mission!" Zelda hissed as quietly as she could. "Hide!"

Just before the display went dark, shielded by thick curtains, electric blue pierced through, burning into her mortification.

---

Steel clashed, the sound reverberating through the training yard. Earth rumbled beneath Zelda's feet, rock and magma crunching through the ground's surface, dispelled in a fiery explosion as quickly as they arose. Fine mist sprayed over Zelda's face, the aftermath of gysers and crashing waves. Thunder crackled, the air tinged with ozone. Lightning streaked through the sky, arcing toward the flying shadow that narrowly avoided each strike.

"A little closer that time," Revali called, swooping down to meet Urbosa on the grass. A haughty smile turned the corners of his sharp beak. "But not quite close enough."

"Perhaps not," Urbosa agreed, sporting a mischievous grin of her own. "But you don't always have your guard up." Sparks danced across her fingers, unseen to Revali, who scoffed at her. When she set her hand on his shoulder, the sparks released all at once, bursting in a brief flash of light and a very loud squawk.

Blinking away the spots, where once had been a proud warrior, now stood a static-fluffed ball of feathers - and the slightest hint of fried poultry. He shook himself out and tried to pat his feathers back down, all while the Zora princess laughed softly from across the yard.

Even Daruk chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as Zelda and Impa approached. His heavy hammer swung onto his shoulder, the last of his magma columns cooling and crumbling back into the earth. "This is the third time she's got him this week. You'd think he'd learn to pay attention."

Unsheathing her sword, Impa joined the practice ring. "That would only be possible if he thought any of us were worthy opponents." She crossed her sword with Mipha's trident, both of them setting up for a spar.

Urbosa and Revali continued to fuss at each other; Impa and Mipha were evenly matched, both of their movements quick and fluid. Zelda snapped a few photos of the Champions in action, adding them to her growing album. The afternoon sun warmed her skin, a western breeze blew through the training yard, and her father was no where to be seen. As far as her afternoons could go, this was by far one of the most pleasant.

She settled by a shaded tree, sitting cross-legged in the grass as she adjusted some of the runes on her Slate. Whrrr-rrr-eep! A quick whistle beside her announced the arrival of her small companion, eager to assist in any way that it could. Through the little Guardian's amplification of the Slate's innate capabilities, much more could be accomplished than the simple application of the major runes. She'd actually managed to get the cryonis column to bounce!

Another shock richoeted through the air, making Zelda look up from her work just in time to see Revali awkwardly tumble out of the sky, his feathers slightly singed. She cringed as he hit the ground, not hard enough to break anything, but it was far from the graceful landing that she was used to for his skill.

"Oh dear!" Mipha gasped. She raised a hand to signal to Impa that they needed to put the spar on pause. Her webbed feet slapped against the dirt and gravel as she ran over to Revali, who was trying to pick himself up to stand again, groaning slightly. "Are you alright? Do you need assistance?"

"No, no, I'm fine!" Revali snapped, glaring at Mipha, though his anger was partially cut by a shock of pain as he tried to put a little weight on an obviously-sprained leg.

Mipha's eyes swam with worry, completely undeterred by Revali's coldness. "Are you sure? That was quite the fall!"

"I said I'm-!" Revali cut himself off, something catching his attention in the distance.

All at once, everyone turned to see what could have possibly halted the Rito Champion's fury.

Across the training yard, having just pushed open the large doors of the Castle, stepped the Champion Chosen by the Sword. The legendary blade peeked out over his shoulder, the hilt shining an iridescant violet and green. Like the rest of them, he wore his Champion Blue, with some basic leather armor added to the shoulder of his non-dominant arm. With each approaching step he took, the rage in Zelda's chest burned hotter.

Not everyone was quite so displeased to see him. Impa gave him a small wave. Urbosa nodded in acknowledgement. Daruk marched forward to meet him, the only person offering him any kind of genuine smile.

"Hey, little guy! Come to practice with us?" Daruk greeted Link jovially, not letting the icy glares of two other Champions hinder him in the least.

Link nodded. Silent.

"On second thought," Revali mused, a wicked turn on the corner of his beak, "I do need your assistance, Princess Mipha."

Upon hearing her name spoken, Mipha broke out of the tension that had overtaken her, returning her attention back to Revali. "Oh! Yes, of course." She shot a quick glare back at Link over her shoulder. "I'd be happy to attend to you, Master Revali."

The effect of their conversation was not lost on Link, though he tried not to show it. His eyes tracked them across the green, the slightest twitch of his jaw the only real indication that anything was amiss. He set up to spar with Daruk, his expression fading into complete neutrality, leaving only the focus of combat.

He used to laugh when he sparred with friends. Her chest hurt watching him. She returned to her Slate, deciding she'd taken more than enough photos for that day.

Coins jingled beside Zelda, Urbosa's skirt at eye-level as she leaned against the same tree Zelda sat under. At first, she said nothing, and Zelda assumed she only wished to enjoy the shade for a moment. But when Urbosa spoke, Zelda knew she was in for a lecture, already preparing herself for it with a held breath.

"A perfect storm, the two of them," Urbosa observed. Surprised, Zelda glanced up at Urbosa to discover who she was referring to. The Gerudo Champion watched the progress of Mipha healing Revali's injury. She crossed her arms, her blue-painted lips pressed together in a disapproving frown. "A jilted lover and a voe who will take any opportunity to spite the one who scorned her."

Scorned was perhaps a little strong of a word in this context. Technically Link had as much choice in the match as Zelda did. Not that any of that absolved him in the eyes of either princess, based on the occassional glare cast toward Link. Zelda pulled her knees up to her chest, watching the exchange across the yard as a stranger, imagining herself entirely removed from it.

She wondered what Mipha would think if she ever learned what Link said about their engagement before he pulled the sword. She wondered if it mattered anymore.

"You know, Princess," Revali's voice carried surprisingly well for such a distance, though that was probably due to his deliberate angling toward the rest of the Champions. "I think I've had enough practice for today. Care to join me for a walk outside of the Castle?"

Leather boots skidded on loose stones, just barely dodging Daruk's heavy swing.

"I'd be delighted to," Mipha replied, equally as loud, "Shall we walk along the river?"

A strong whack knocked the air from Link's body. He stumbled, clutching his stomach and trying to catch his breath.

Frowning, Daruk shouldered his weapon again. "You sure you want to spar today, little guy? You seem a little distracted."

Electric blue shifted from tracking the two Champions leaving the yard, landing squarely on Zelda. As quickly as the lightning struck, it moved on, back to quiet determination. He nodded to Daruk and set up again.

Zelda clipped the Slate onto her hip. "Well, I believe we have all the data we need for today." She stood, avoiding Urbosa's concern, and headed back toward the Castle. "Come along, little one. We've much to analyze."

---

Rarely did Zelda see the sanctum from this angle. Rarely did she stand so close to the throne and golden crest of her family. Rarely did her father remember that she was a princess, not just a descendant of the Goddess.

The sanctum was eerily quiet when mostly empty. Her father didn't hold court in the afternoons, rearranging his schedule to accommodate the prince consort. The western windows let in plenty of light, illuminating the balcony from where her father often gave his commands. He usually stood here alone, or accompanied by his guards. Such company as this was highly unusual.

High Priestress Agrena busied herself with arranging items and smoothing out the cloth over an altar in front of the throne. Her gray braids were slightly more frazzled than usual. "The statue of Hylia will be placed on the other side, of course," she explained, "you will speak your vows directly to her, understand? And you'd better have them memorized! I don't want to hear any improvisation!"

It took everything within Zelda not to roll her eyes. "Yes, Sister."

Agrena shot Zelda a quick glare, though couldn't say anything on the matter so long as the king stood nearby. "Good. Now, you will follow the girl out. Tradition holds that she remains on your side of Hylia, though I understand that she is the prince's sister?"

King Rhoam nodded, his hands folded neatly behind his back. "That is correct. Aryll is her name."

Taking out a small notebook, Agrena wrote something down. "Very well. That will have to be noted somewhere in the program. The flower maid is usually of the royal line. A younger sister or cousin."

"If you know of any," the king suggested, "I'd be glad to include them."

Zelda bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. While she'd never considered her father the joking sort, every now and then he surprised her. Equally funny was the twitch of annoyance in Agrena's eye.

"Indeed, I do not," Agrena continued, grumbling a little, "Princess, you will stand here." Rather forcefully, Zelda found herself jerked into place, facing Link and her father. "And the prince-"

Despite having not given much indication of affect thus far, Link shifted quickly, mirroring Zelda at the altar before Agrena had a chance to yank him around, too.

"Hmph," Agrena narrowed her eyes at him, though she could find no fault in Hylia's Chosen. Few could. "Very well. Your family will deliver you to this location, and then they will stay a few paces back. As you will be joining the royal line, you will naturally leave your family behind. I'm sure His Majesty has impressed upon you the prudence and necessity of placing the interests of Hyrule above those of your kin." She waved her hand toward the altar and Hylia. "Most of these rituals are to that effect. Breaking the bonds of your previous life and binding you to line of Hylia. Speaking of which," she paused again, taking a white ribbon from the altar, "your vows will be spoken as I tie this to each of your wrists. The knots are intentionally loose so that you can untie them immediately after the ceremony, so be aware of that. It would be a terrible omen for the binding to fail."

Would it be? Zelda wondered. That might be exactly the sort of thing that would let her escape such a fate. The Goddess herself refused to bind them. But, then, they'd blame her quicker than placing any fault on Link.

Beside the ribbon, a crystal glass waited for its turn in the rehearsal. Agrena's spindly fingers wrapped around the stem. "A decanter of wine will be blessed and poured into this cup. It is given to Hylia's descendant first, a transfer of divinity," she paused, eyeing Zelda with a familiar disdain, silently comparing her to Link. The tips of Zelda's ears burned; she found herself unable to do much more than glare at the rug.

"Try not to spill it." Her father's voice surprised them, drawing the attention of all three. "I almost did. My hands were shaking terribly. Your mother actually laughed at me for it."

What could he mean by this? His words were honest enough, but the intention behind them eluded her. Why share such a detail, if not to make both of them more nervous about an outcome they hadn't previously considered?

His meaning was equally lost on Agrena, who frowned deeply (or deeper than usual). "Certainly do not spill it," she agreed. "Now, as for the procession following the ceremony…"

The rest of the speech went on in a similarly dull manner for nearly an hour, repeating the steps until Zelda committed them to memory. When they were at last released from Agrena's tyranny, as the king had much to say on the topic of the presentation of the royal couple to the allied tribes, Zelda snuck away as quietly as possible. She let out a slow breath, closing her eyes as she leaned against a column out of the king's sight.

But not, apparently, out of Link's. He didn't say anything, his adopted stoicism leaving his expression unreadable. He stood nearby, close enough that he clearly meant for her to take notice of him. Like her, he'd taken cover from the fallout of the bickering king and high priestess, observing the argument from a safe distance.

Part of her wondered what he thought of the whole situation. Did he find it as ridiculous as she did? Did his thoughts now swirl with the idea of messing up every ritual they'd just been taught? She bit her lip, about to ask him, when he spoke, his voice softer than before.

"Zora weddings aren't nearly this complicated."

"Ghh!" Zelda choked on her goodwill, the olive branch smashed to bits before she could even offer it. "Then you should have had one!"

His head whipped around, his mask cracking, wide eyes and high brows. For a moment, she thought he might say something.

She wouldn't give him another chance. Her skirt dragged along, swishing behind her as she slammed the door shut. Its echo grew quieter with every step.

Chapter 15: Daughter of Hylia

Summary:

The first incarnation of Hylia cleansed herself in the sacred springs, receiving the blessing that allowed her to become the true vessel of Hylia's divinity. Yet, who was she before she was the goddess incarnate? What choice did she have in the matter? When the goddess chose her, did Hylia even care about the woman she inhabited? Or was she merely a vessel, a shell for the goddess to wear and imitate mortality?

Whether Zelda unlocked her powers in the end or not, the outcome remained the same: she was only ever Hylia's pawn. Her father knew that, as did the high priestess and the nobles who whispered behind her back. She was never a person to them.

cw: non-sexual nudity

Notes:

43 days until my last day of work, August 19th, a year on the dot since I started working for Legal Aid as an attorney. As much as I've enjoyed my time there, I'm ready to move on to my next grand adventure. I've been saving all my money for one reason: I'm going to write a book! I can hardly wait to get started! My family and friends think I'm crazy for taking months off of work, but that doesn't bother me. I'm going to seize the opportunity while I'm young and my rent is low. It might end up being one book, or I could end up with three, or seven, who knows? However long it takes me to tell the story I need to tell.

Writing fanfic has honestly helped me so much in my skill and confidence as a writer. Until I finished Lullaby for a Princess, I never thought I was the kind of person who could finish her stories. But looking back on it, and looking forward with Prior Engagements, I feel confident that I can hit that 100k mark and keep going from there. I am competent. I am determined. I've developed my craft. And all of it is possible because of the wonderful support and feedback I've received from all of you! Every time I got down and wanted to give up, I remembered all of you. I will never forget the times you've told me that you look forward to my updates every Monday.

Anyway, enough being sappy. Time for what you all really came here for: Zelink.

Her stomach twisted in knots, the sick feeling not leaving no matter which side she laid on. Her blankets were a tangle around her, tossed around in Zelda's desperate attempt to sleep. Shadows surrounded her, familiar shapes turning foreign and sinister in the depths of the night and an over-tired mind. And though she willed herself to rest, her mind refused to release its death grip on her pounding heart.

A silent scream pierced the air, deafeningly loud, reverberating in her head, repeating. Zelda flipped the pillow over her head to block out the sound, but it would never do any good, no matter how hard she tried. The scream wasn't coming from the outside world.

Mipha's shriek of pain slashed through Zelda's chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, visions of blood and smoke surrounding her, the memory as clear as day. Princess Mipha could have died and it was her fault. If she hadn't made her affections for Link so obvious, the Yiga wouldn't have targeted both of them. Her selfishness nearly got her friend brutally slaughtered in the street.

Groaning, she lifted the pillow, only to slam it back onto the back of her head again, trying to get the noise to fade.

It only shifted.

Blood red narrowed from a splash to a line, a burning point of light centered on her forehead. Screams turned to mechanical grating, rocks crumbling, the horrifying image of a Guardian rising from the rocks and giving chase. Her lungs hurt, recalling the distance she sprinted to get away from it. Her captain held it off while she activated the other Guardians to defeat the rogue, but they sustained heavy injuries. Her own weapon turned against her. Blood pooled in the dust of the Breach of Demise.

The clock struck one.

The earth shook, trembling with each step of a Divine Beast. They stomped over the land, crushing tree and stone. Ice and fire, lightning and wind, destruction left in the wake of ancient war machines. Concentrated power scorched the landscape, destroying monster and mountain alike. The pilots, the Champions, kept the damage to a minimum. But the image of them running without the Champion's input, as possessed as the Guardian in the Breach, wouldn't leave her mind. It filled her nose with sulfur. Anxious energy struck through her like lightning, her muscles jerking without her input.

Burning, rippling, blocking their path to the Korok Forest. Concentrated evil spilled onto the ground, infecting the land with a poison she couldn't drive out. False Champions aimed their weapons at her, moving in for the kill. Manifestations of malice, puppeted by a madman, struck at her and her friends. The echo of Link's pain, his shattered sword, armor hitting stone and going limp, filled her mind with sounds so real, so present, that she searched for the enemy in her bedchamber, scanning the shadows for the bubbling sorcery, sitting bolt upright and gasping for enough air to make her head stop spinning.

She swallowed, trying to calm herself down. Steady breaths. The visions weren't real. Memories, only memories. The soft blanket under her hands, the thin stream of moonlight through the window, the lingering scent of a snuffed candle. These were real. Present. These she could trust.

But still, another opinion might help.

The bed creaked as she pushed herself up, her bare toes touching plush rugs beneath her as she padded toward the door to her chamber. Steeling herself, she turned the knob, just enough to peek out at the guard on duty.

Royal blue and red was always stationed outside of her room, ready to defend her from any threat. What a shame, then, that the threats all came from within.

"Toren," Zelda spoke as quietly as she could, her mouth dry, "could you fetch Impa, please?"

He didn't ask why, only nodded. After this many requests, he'd stopped asking.

She closed the door behind her, returning to sit on her bed. Her hands twisted the fabric of her chemise. She hated waking Impa, though her friend never complained, even when it was multiple nights in a row.

Not long after, the door creaked open. Rather than blue and red, white stepped inside. Her hair hung in a long braid down her back. Despite the tiredness in her eyes, Impa held no anger. She shut the door.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Zelda bit her lip. Though she'd considered what she might say, words evaded her anxious mind. Eventually, when Impa sat beside her, Zelda tried to explain. "All I see is death. I hear the Calamity approaching. I can feel it in my chest."

Taking her hands, Impa tried to ground her friend, squeezing to remind her that reality felt different than the world in her mind. "Do you still hear it?"

A breath in, held. She waited, listening, searching Impa's brown eyes for the expected censure and belittlement. As always, she only saw compassion. Impa, like all Sheikah, was a master of secrets. Zelda shook her head. "Not as loud."

Impa nodded, releasing Zelda's hands. "Do you want to try to sleep?"

Do I have a choice? Morning would come whether Zelda was ready for it or not. Still, she gave a small nod.

"Okay." Impa settled easily beside her, tucking the blanket around them both. Darkness fell over them, the hostile shadows kept at bay, at least for now. Her friend's warmth, the gentle combing of her fingers through Zelda's hair, at last banished the screams.

---

Leather sandal straps wound around her feet and ankles. White linen covered her body, pure as the first incarnation that this gown intended to imitate. Her hair draped over her shoulders and back, her circlet and decorative braids abandoned for this task. The first in her line did not wear such frivolous things. She presented herself to her past life, the goddess who breathed through her lungs, in humility and reverence.

The first incarnation had a spiritual guide. And so, the king decreed, would she.

High Priestess Agrena regarded Zelda coolly, her gray eyes taking in every flaw that she always perceived. The lines in her face drew into a permanent scowl, her eyes squinting. "At least you're on time," she huffed, her voice sharp. "I don't have to send Merin after you." Gold ornaments hung from tight, ashen braids.

Zelda offered a small bow to the high priestess. Polished stone tiles covered the floor of the Castle altar, symbols of the Triforce set in triangular patterns. These tiles continued down the steps into the pool, filtered water from the mixing of the Hylia and Regencia rivers flowing through the waist-deep, narrow space. This simulated spring, watched over by a smaller Hylia at the far end, was intimately familiar to Zelda. She'd prayed in it more times than she could count - and all she got from it was damp. "My apologies, Sister Agrena." It wasn't the most respectful address to use for the high priestess, and Zelda relished the way the old woman scoffed whenever Zelda used it. But, 'sister' was still an acceptable title - it applied to every priestess, from the over-decorated, haughty Agrena to the lowly, trying not to smile at Zelda's rudeness, Merin.

The vein that popped out of Agrena's face gave Zelda at least a little amusement. However, as she had technically done no wrong, Agrena was forced to overlook the insult. "You understand, then, the purpose of the ritual today?"

Again, Zelda gave the smallest of bows. "I do. Purification." She hated the idea of it, like putting herself on a silver platter for the Goddess to do whatever she wished with her. A cleansing ritual before the marriage of a daughter of Hylia - preparation to be a vessel. Whether that was a vessel for Hylia herself, or for the next in Hylia's line, it didn't much matter to Zelda. Her body wasn't her own in either case.

Giving Zelda a nod of confirmation, the high priestess gestured toward Merin. "Good. Now, I would see to the ritual myself, but as this wedding is on such short notice, there are other matters that require my attention." She gestured at three amphorae, sealed with wax of red, blue, and green, sitting on the floor opposite the sacred pool. "These are waters from the sacred springs across Hyrule. Traditionally, you would have gone to each spring and bathed yourself in the waters. However, we simply do not have the time for that." She ground her jaw a little, annoyed. "Your father is lucky we were able to secure these with the timeline he gave us. The waters from the Spring of Wisdom came in just this morning. Had they been even a day late, we'd have had to put off the wedding until another auspicious date, and then where would we be?"

Whatever pity the priestess thought she was going to get from Zelda over being so inconvenienced by rushing to completely ruin Zelda's life, the princess was not inclined to give it. She crossed her arms, keeping her expression as impassive as possible. "I shan't keep you, then."

While not a dismissal, as Zelda lacked the authority for that, the high priestess took the opportunity to make her quick exit, opening the solid oak door that separated the altar from the rest of the Castle. "Good, good. Merin, you recall the rites?"

In response, the younger priestess held up a small scroll, marked with the Hyrulean crest.

With that confirmation, the high priestess departed, leaving the two young women alone in the narrow space, with only Hylia to observe them now. And as Hylia had not shown any particular interest in Zelda's affairs thus far, Hylia wouldn't be offended by Zelda's laughter, suddenly bursting forth like a geyser.

"Skies, did you see that?" Zelda laughed, a much-needed break from the dreadful tension. "I really thought she was going to burst a vein there for a moment!"

A little quieter in her giggles, Merin tucked a night-black curl back into her white headscarf. "Princess, you don't know the half of it. Agrena has been brewing a storm of fits over this wedding."

"I can imagine," Zelda said, taking a step into the blessed waters.

"Oh, Your Highness!" Merin interjected. "I do apologize. The purification ritual is a- a bath." Merin's cheeks dusted pink, quickly looking away.

Rather than mortification, only annoyance wormed through Zelda's thoughts. "Seriously?"

Averting her gaze, Merin nodded quickly. "I probably should have said that. I've got towels ready for you, and I warmed the waters in the amphorae." She frowned, her full lips pressed tightly together. "Though, I suppose it doesn't matter that much. It's not like anyone but us will witness it, and I have no intention of telling Agrena anything. So, if you'd rather not-"

"Genuinely, Sister Merin, I do not care," Zelda sighed, already sitting on the edge of the pool and unwrapping her sandals. "You are the last person I'm concerned about seeing me naked. Lock the door, please."

By the time Merin secured the lock and picked up the red-sealed amphora, Zelda's sandals and prayer gown were already tossed unceremoniously into the corner of the small room. Cool water rose steadily up her body as she stepped fully into the pool. Heated amphorae or not, no one ever bothered to heat the water pumping in and out of this 'spring'. At least it wasn't the dead of winter. Those prayers were the worst. She couldn't feel her toes by the end of it.

"Before we start, Merin, I have to ask: had we the time to visit the springs, would I have been required to bathe in all three of them?"

Behind her, Merin stepped into the water, ripples following her. "I'm afraid so."

Zelda shuddered at the thought. As humiliating as it was to go through such a ritual once, she'd much rather get through it all quickly, and in the privacy of a small alcove behind a locked door. For a rare moment, Zelda did not envy her forebears. "Awful. Very well, proceed."

Paper rustled behind her. Merin cleared her throat. "Spirit maiden, descendant of Hylia, in whose blood flows the sacred, golden ichor of our mother goddess, accept the blessing of the three springs." Terracotta scraped on stone, water sloshing. "May the waters of Akkala, watched over by the spirit of fire, grant you power to overcome the obstacles set before you."

Warm, almost hot, water spilled onto her hair, a trickle at first, then a sudden deluge. Zelda shut her eyes tightly and coughed, accidentally inhaling some of it. Her hair stuck to her skin, threads of dark gold clinging to her face and chest.

"Sorry!" Merin squeaked. "I didn't think it would come out that fast!" Terracotta clinked again as Merin set the first amphora back onto the tile. "Um, feel any more powerful?"

Zelda coughed a few more times to dislodge the rest of it. At least it wasn't cold water. She opened her hand, examining the lines on her palm. No spark. She flipped her hand back over. No golden Triforce, either. "No," Zelda coughed again. "Just do the others."

"Right, right," Merin said. "Maybe it will work if we do all of them. You never know, right?"

What optimism this young acolyte had. Zelda wished she still had that in herself. She let her mortal hands fall back into the water, giving no reply.

The second amphora lifted, sacred waters splashing inside. "May the waters of Faron, guarded by the spirit of lightning, grant you courage to defend the weak in the face of darkness and oppression."

At least this time Zelda was ready for it, shutting her eyes and holding her breath. When the water of the Spring of Courage flowed over her, she definitely felt different. Her skin tingled. Curiously, she examined her hand again, opening and closing her fist. Light flashed between her fingers.

"Your Highness!" Merin gasped. The empty amphora splashed into the pool. "Did you see that?!"

As much as Zelda wished to believe the hope that dared to flicker in her heart, she flexed her fingers again, watching the sparks dance and drip away, down into the flowing spring. "It's electricity," she determined, sighing deeply. "These waters were blessed by Farosh."

"Oh," Merin sounded almost as disappointed as Zelda. "Well, let's do the last one. Surely the balance of all three springs will awaken your powers!"

If only Zelda had that much hope left. She frowned, staring straight ahead at the Goddess who never looked back at her.

The first incarnation of Hylia cleansed herself in the sacred springs, receiving the blessing that allowed her to become the true vessel of Hylia's divinity. Yet, who was she before she was the goddess incarnate? What choice did she have in the matter? When the goddess chose her, did Hylia even care about the woman she inhabited? Or was she merely a vessel, a shell for the goddess to wear and imitate mortality?

Whether Zelda unlocked her powers in the end or not, the outcome remained the same: she was only ever Hylia's pawn. Her father knew that, as did the high priestess and the nobles who whispered behind her back. She was never a person to them.

"May the waters of Lanayru, protected by the spirit of frost, grant you wisdom in all your ways, so that you may lead your people with divine light."

As Zelda steeled herself for the final blessing, she grit her teeth and glared at the goddess. I refuse to be just a vessel.

Ice shocked the breath from Zelda's lungs. All thoughts of rebellion and defiance flew from her mind in an instant. She gasped, immediately wrapping her arms around herself. Cold flooded her down to her toes, frigid water mixing with the warm, static-filled pool.

"Eep!" Merin quickly set down the last amphora. "Ah, blessed Hylia, watch over your descendant, make her a vessel of your will, and grant her the balance of the three noble spirits!" Merin spat out the final prayer as quickly as she could, already jumping out of the water. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought it wouldn't be that cold! It's been sitting in a cart for days!"

Shivering, her teeth clicking together, Zelda gratefully accepted the fluffy towel Merin handed her. She stepped out of the pool, leaving Hylia behind. Tears pricked at her eyes, the shock of the waters tingling over her skin. Magic hovered over the surface of her body, a thin film of elemental energy. Yet, not a drop of it soaked in. Whatever divinity laid within her still refused to show itself.

She turned back toward the Goddess, her vision blurred by tears of anger and despair. "What else do you require of me, Your Grace? Even the blessings of the springs reject me. Will you also reject your vessel?" Hot tears burned down her cheeks. "Just tell me: what's wrong with me?!"

---

Holy water made her skin itch. Fragrant oils rubbed into her skin helped only a little, the sting of the high priestess's conclusions still swirling around her head. Even in the darkness, she could still see the stone-silent face of the goddess who gave up on her.

Her hair mostly dry, and what was left of her pride intact, Zelda snuck out of the altar as quickly as she could. She ducked behind a potted tree in the hallway and grabbed the Slate that she'd stashed earlier. Perhaps all the secrecy wasn't needed, as the little Guardian was more than content to guard the Slate while she was in prayer. It whistled in greeting, affectionately rubbing its eggshell body on her calf.

Even if no one else was glad to see her, at least this little creature was. She patted its shell, offering a sad smile. "I'm afraid our salvation will come some other day, little friend."

The Guardian whistled sadly, but quickly perked up when she stood again, ready to follow wherever she would lead.

And Zelda had only one destination in mind: back to her room. The fewer people who saw her in a prayer gown, damp and disappointing, the better. She tried to ignore the rumors as best she could, but the correlation between her failures and the viciousness of her rivals' tongues could not be overlooked. It was bad enough that her friends had to witness her inabilities. The whole kingdom appeared quite satisfied to declare her the harbinger of all their doom - and laugh about it to her face.

Lingering incense gave Zelda only a moment's warning before the high priestess turned the corner. Both of them jumped back - the priestess nearly dropping all her scrolls, and the princess fumbling with the Sheikah Slate.

"Oh, Princess!" For once, Agrena seemed to have forgotten that she disliked Zelda, delaying her usual scowl. Maybe being annoyed at her father instead brought her a new outlet for her disdain. "Are you finished with your prayers already?"

Shifting on her feet, Zelda clutched the Slate to her chest. "I am, Sister Agrena. Sister Merin performed the cleansing rites, as you requested." Farosh's static still clung to her hair. Hot and cold seeped into her bones.

Agrena raised a thin, curious brow. "And? Anything?"

Zelda studied the straps of her sandals - worn leather, too-often soaked in sacred waters. They were practically coming apart at the seams. "I'm sorry, no."

In a rare instance, High Priestess Agrena showed some actual concern, her lips down-turned and her brows furrowed over squinting eyes. She adjusted her grasp on the scrolls. "I was so certain that this would be the trick. The balance of the three springs is easily one of the most concentrated sources of magic in Hyrule. If even the elemental spirits and Hylia's blessed waters couldn't help you, then…"

Zelda winced, already anticipating the fatal blow. She was the worst failure of a princess Hyrule had ever had.

"The problem may not be you at all."

Shock nearly dropped Zelda's jaw to the floor. No one, especially not High Priestess Agrena, had ever dared to suggest such a thing. Her heart squeezed, desperate to hear the rationale, aching for any answer that would absolve her of the wasted time and unreached potential and certainty of utter desolation at the return of the Calamity.

Ignoring Zelda's wonder, Agrena tucked most of her scrolls under her arm, unfurling one. "I first got the inkling that something may have been amiss some time ago. In my prayers, I had the same thought running through my head for months. 'A connection is severed.'" She waved her hand vaguely. "I hadn't the slightest idea what Her Grace meant by such a statement. What connection, and what did the severing?"

Each word was a rung, and she climbed it attentively, waiting for the conclusion that might finally, finally let her reach the top of the dark pit. She imagined the wiring that ran through the Guardians, sending electrical signals to and fro, causing the pieces to move. If any connection was severed, the whole limb would fall, useless. Every piece had to connect to the primary power source, and to others of its own kind, creating a body of intricate parts, all working together. She'd accidentally cut a wire or two when she was working on a few models, and the effect was always immediate. The light inside went out.

Reading the scroll, the text of which Zelda could only guess at from the opposite side, Agrena continued. "When Hylia descended to mortal form, her divine blood inhabited her chosen vessel, blessed to each daughter," she nodded to Zelda. "The golden drop, I'm sure you're familiar?"

Familiar? It was one of the first lessons she'd ever been taught! She nodded. "A single drop of golden light flows through the veins of the descendants of Hylia," Zelda recited, the axiomatic truth as natural to her as breathing. "This drop is the source of Hyrule's salvation."

"Exactly," Agrena agreed, daring to grin like a pleased schoolmarm. "That is where my theory begins, Princess. The connection, the golden drop, is severed."

The world ground to a halt. Zelda stared at the priestess, hardly comprehending her words. "I- I'm sorry?"

Agrena flipped the scroll around, showing Zelda the old lore detailing the effects of Hylia's golden blood. "You're a scholar, aren't you? Familiar enough with inheritance, I assume." Without waiting for Zelda to respond, she continued. "Hylia's golden drop is not the only source of divinity in your bloodline, Your Highness. Some legends suggest that you have chosen heroes for ancestors as well. And as these heroes are reborn of the same spirit each time they are needed, their divinity does not have the time to diminish between generations."

All of Agrena's words made sense individually, but together…

"I'm sorry, Sister, I don't understand what you mean?"

Groaning, Zelda fell back onto her bed, covering her eyes with her frustrated palms, blocking out even the sliver of starlight visible between her curtains. It was almost a relief, in a fucked up, disappointing, humiliating sort of way. It wasn't her fault that the goddess didn't recognize her as a descendant - she failed to inherit the golden drop. Her blood was all Hylian, without a trace of divinity. The only thing she was good for was hoping the next generation inherited what she did not, what was inaccessible to her through no fault of her own.

Her cheeks burned as she curled up on the mattress, not bothering to straighten out the bunched up blankets beneath her. "Your bloodline may just be running out of divinity", the priestess's sneering voice still rang in Zelda's thoughts. "But at least Hylia's chosen can reintroduce her blessing to your descendants."

She grabbed a pillow, pressed it into her face, and screamed. It was hardly a satisfying outlet, her muffled fury barely reaching her own ears, trapped in the fluff of Rito down. She wished she had run that night. Instead of spending those hours in the alleys of Castle Town, they could have run. They should have run. He would never have pulled the Sword that Sealed Their Fates if they had just run while they still had the chance. He would never have hated her, disdained her, outranked her if he was still the clandestine lover.

But as it was, the bell tolled once, ringing in the first hour of the last day of her free life.

Beneath the deep, clanging tones of the bell, a sharper noise reached her ears. She sat up, blinking back the furious tears, and stared at the door. It came again - a knock, quick and precise.

She rose slowly, the bed frame creaking as her weight left it. She grabbed a robe and tied it around her waist, just in case it was anyone other than the women who had extended as much kindness as they could. Her bare feet stepped lightly across the cool floor. As her hand rested on the knob, she heard a whisper.

"Zel? Are you awake?"

Fresh rage burned anew in her chest. Link, of all people! One of the last nights she would spend away from his company, and he wanted to ruin even that. She had half a mind to go right back to bed and ignore him. But then, that wouldn't be satisfying. While she was free woman, she would make the most of it by tormenting him however possible. Whatever he wanted, he wasn't going to get it.

"Don't you know it's bad luck to visit your bride before the wedding?" She snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. She hoped he recoiled on the other side. She hoped he thought twice about his attempts.

"I- Well," he stammered, her venom producing its intended effect. After a long pause, she thought she'd won and staved him off until the inevitable. But then, he said the most peculiar thing: "Do you want a baby goat?"

She stared at the doorknob. Did she- did she hear that right? Was she dreaming? Was he mad? What in Hylia's name did he mean by that?!

Alas, her curiosity got the better of her. She opened the door just a crack to peak outside. She wasn't sure exactly what she expected to see — perhaps a fluffy, bleating kid. But instead she met with two mismatched buttons, a patchwork of scrap fabric, awkwardly sewn and stuffed into the form of what might, if one squinted, be considered a goat. And though she didn't see Link, his presence was obvious enough, as it was his hand holding the stuffed creature up at eye-level, the rest of him concealed behind the door.

Was this a joke? Was this an insult? Was this some deeply strange, rural attempt at seduction? She couldn't possibly account for it, too bewildered by its appearance to form a coherent thought.

"It's a Necluda tradition," the goat explained, Link's hand dipping the little toy's head, its legs wiggling as he spoke through it. "The groom is supposed to gift his bride with a baby goat, or– or a lamb. I'm not really sure which one this looks more like, to be honest. But I figured you didn't have much of a need for a real goat, being a princess and all, so I- I made this…for you."

She might have preferred a real lamb. At least the wool and warmth would be a consolation. But, examining the uneven stitching, the lopsided horns, the mismatched legs, she couldn't deny that it certainly did appear to be his handiwork. It made her feel a lot better about the tunic, at least. Still, she made no move to take it.

"I don't want your betrothal gift," Zelda said, starting to close the door again.

"Wait!" The goat jingled, the tiny bell around its neck as loud as the clock tower. "Zelda, I'm sorry."

She paused, her fingers wrapped around the knob and holding it in place, only a crack visible, through which she could still see half of the pitiful goat.

"I've been wanting to tell you that for weeks," the goat admitted, its head sinking in shame. "After I pulled the sword, everything happened so quickly. I didn't know what to say to you. But- but I realized that saying nothing was just as bad as messing up."

He had her attention, skeptical as she was. "This is your apology? You've been completely ignoring me ever since we got back to the Castle!"

"I know, I know!" The goat jingled again, its head bobbing in agreement. "And that was wrong of me. I've been so wrapped up in all of this- this princely nonsense," his exasperation brought the smallest upturn to Zelda's lips, "that I didn't consider how my silence must have come across to you." The goat bowed deeply, "I'm truly sorry, Zelda."

Her brain ran back through the last several weeks, trying to come up with all the reasons why she should slam the door in his face and tell him to take a hike. Yet, his peace offering was so ugly it bordered on cute. She wanted to imagine he pricked his fingers putting it together as much as she did embroidering the Champion garments. And she had to grant that his ventriloquism amused her. Still, one point remained.

"What about Mipha?"

The goat tilted. "She's mad as hell."

"Ha!" Zelda quickly covered her mouth, not meaning to laugh as loudly as she did. "Ah, right, I'm sure she is."

The goat bowed sheepishly. Sheepishly? Goatishly? "I told her that I would always love her, but that it's different with you. I don't want to say that I like one of you more than the other. She's still my best friend, if she ever forgives me. But, Zel, I don't want to marry Mipha."

Her breath caught in her lungs. Did- did he intend to imply-? She frowned, glaring at her hand still on the doorknob. "Then who do you want to marry, Link?"

The goat tilted indecisively. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't marry either of you."

Well! Her glare shot up to the awkward goat. She was about to tell him that she had absolutely no interest in marrying him either, when he spoke again.

"I don't ever want to make you do something you don't want to do."

As quickly as her anger burned, it cooled again. She bit her lip, unsure of what to say in reply. Whether he had any intention of making her do something or not, he was as trapped in the engagement as she was. "You're not the one making us marry," she answered softly. "So, thus far, you haven't, you aren't, and I suspect you never will make me do something I don't want to."

"In that case," a little awkwardly, the goat flung one of its floppy legs across its chest, "I swear on my life that I will never, ever force you to do anything. I refuse to be like your father."

It wasn't exactly how she imagined an apology, or a confession, or anything else. She thought she'd be looking her friend, her knight, in the eye, not talking to his pitiful attempt at a gift. Still, strange or not, she was glad for it.

"I know I've been a complete asshole to you, Zelda. And I'm really, really sorry," the goat pleaded (bleated?), "Do you think you could ever forgive me?"

Damn him. She chewed her thumbnail, trying and failing to fight a smile. "I could."

"Really?!" The goat jerked upward in excitement - so much excitement, in fact, that its poorly attached button eye flew right off. "Ah, shit."

She couldn't stop her laughter, the goat disappearing as her dutiful knight chased a button down the hall. She opened the door fully, watching him pounce on it in the darkness like an awkward cat.

He held it aloft in triumph, then froze when he realized she was watching him. He rubbed the back of his neck, blushing. "So, uh, I'll see you at the wedding?"

She pressed her lips together in an attempt to stem her giggling. "Mhm."

His blue eyes, as deep and beautiful as they ever were, shone with relief. "Good. I look forward to it. Well, not all of it, most of it will probably be like swimming through poison ivy, but not the seeing you part. Not that you won't be there the whole time! I just-" He spoke with his hands while he rambled, the goat's jingling bell punctuating his awkward attempts at making them both feel better. When he noticed her laughing again, he blushed harder, and held the toy out to her. "Do you want the goat?"

Her hand brushed against his, taking the pathetic, adorable peace offering. "I do want the goat. Thank you."

That smile could rival the full moon. "You're welcome," he said, "Have a good night, Zel."

The small bundle of poorly-stuffed goat imitation smelled like him; she held it to her chest. "Goodnight, Link."

Chapter 16: Lovestruck

Summary:

With much left unsaid between them, but now on better terms, the princess and hero spend the final day before the wedding showing Link's family around Castle Town. It might have been one of the most romantic moments in Zelda's life...

 

...except for those Yiga guys.

Notes:

Well hello everyone, bet you didn't expect to see me still keeping to my posting schedule this blesséd Zelink Week. Thank you all for joining me in the celebration of our favorite ship that we are all very hinged about.

This feels familiar, Zelda thought, walking beside Link through the streets of Castle Town. Where they had once wandered in the shadows of night and hidden alleys, they now walked in the open, sunlight streaming down from a blue sky above. And though she kept glancing at his hand, covered by the same white glove he'd worn the first time, she didn't dare take it this time. Not while the whole kingdom watched them like a hawk.

Bouncing alongside them, chattering about every topic that came to her mind, Aryll wove between Link and their parents, asking a thousand questions about the Castle, the wedding, the sword, the Champions, and every other topic that came to mind. Zelda answered every inquiry as politely and completely as possible, even after Link's parents assured her that she needn't indulge Aryll's curiosity to such a degree.

"Nonsense," Zelda smiled at Aryll, watching the girl's eyes light up in wonder as they entered the central market. "I'd much rather encourage an inquisitive mind."

The corners of Link's eyes crinkled, though he tried not to smile openly. He was on duty, guarding her on his last day as her appointed knight. Though she didn't need him to guard her, and she could have chosen anyone to accompany her into town, it gave them an excuse to spend some time together before they were inevitably overwhelmed by royal duties. No one would fault the princess for showing hospitality to her in-laws, and that her groom was the guard assigned to them was merely a coincidence.

Water splashed into the stone fountain in the center of the market. Children played, running around and laughing, sharp cries of delight as they chased and tagged each other, weaving between adults and animals. Carts and stalls filled the space, everyone selling their wares to the great mass of guests who came in for the wedding. Gerudo, Gorons, Zora, Rito, Sheikah, not to mention all of those typically found within the walls of the bustling town, all flooded into the market and side streets. Freshly baked bread and roasting meat floated on the wind, carried with the notes of musicians hoping to catch a few spare rupees from the more generous travelers.

"What's your favorite, Princess?" Aryll asked, pointing toward one of the stalls, over-flowing with pies and pastries. A small crowd gathered around the blue-painted stall, the swirling letters of the baker's name across the top. The woman who traded rupees for bread, her hair dusted with flour and her cheeks red in the heat, might have been the so-named Tari.

Quickly scanning over the selection, or at least what she could observe through the shifting crowd, Zelda considered her options. "I'm fond of most pastries, at least the sweet ones. I don't really care for savory tarts."

Link raised a brow at her, like he was taking a mental note of every word she spoke.

Stretching on her toes, Aryll tried to see past the crowd. "My brother likes apples. Our mom makes the best apple pie, but he's terrible at baking, so he just makes the apples without the pie part."

"Aryll!" Link snapped, less in anger than embarrassment, the tips of his ears burning.

As the two of them bickered about what was and was not appropriate to say in front of the princess, Zelda held back her laughter, her lips pressed together tightly. Their parents had wandered off, though hadn't gone very far. Lady Uma stopped to examine a necklace on display in a shop window. Her hand rested on Sir Arn, linked together as they walked and spoke. Zelda's heart squeezed, wondering what that must feel like. Out in the open, comfortable, without worrying about decorum or tradition or whether the other person really meant what they said or if they only said it to appease the king.

She didn't realize how long she'd been watching them until she felt a tap on her shoulder, bidding her to turn around - and to be met with a slice of delicate cake on a paper plate. Her eyes widened, looking between the cake and the giver, who held a small pie in his other hand.

Gingerly, she took his offering, smiling, yet confused. "Fruit cake?" She asked, taking a small piece of it with her fingers. It broke easily, fruit and frosting in equal measure.

He frowned. "It's what you usually get, isn't it?"

Ba-dump. She swallowed her bite quickly, looking anywhere but at him. "No, it- it is." She coughed slightly, her face warmer than the morning sun would have suggested. She took another bite, unsure of what to say. "I'm…I am surprised that you remembered such a small detail. "

Shrugging, as if he had done nothing more than a simple task, not a feat seldom accomplished by anyone, Link started on his own pie. Bits of flaky crust fell onto the ground, spiced jam lingering on his mouth. "It felt important."

Thud-da-bump. She felt her throat tighten, her eyes widening with alarm that she quickly tried to hide. Goddess, could he hear that? She was sure the whole of Hyrule heard that, as loud as that thundering bomb in her chest was. Was she dying? Was this an nervous attack? She swore it didn't feel like this the last time they were in Castle Town.

…The time before last, anyway. The last time, he'd had the sword for only a day, and she was convinced he hated her instantly.

How differently he must have felt about her now. Or, rather, he felt the same? She couldn't piece it together, or name it exactly, but she was convinced of one thing: there probably would not be another instance of a tearful confession in the alleys.

Electric blue struck her like lightning. As much as she enjoyed what he'd bought for her, as much as she would admit that it was her favorite, she couldn't help the overwhelming desire to know what spiced apples tasted like.

"Can I have a rupee?"

Zelda jumped, suddenly remembering where they were and who was with them. Blinking at Aryll, who grinned at them both so innocently that Zelda was all but convinced the girl knew exactly what she was doing, Zelda tried to regain her composure. She cleared her throat. "Ah, for what, Miss Aryll?"

"For the fountain!" Aryll pointed ahead, directing their attention to the flowing water. Hyrule's crest rose over the pools, stone wings stretched toward the sky. "I want to make a wish!"

Though she was sure it was the last thing on Link's mind, he dug into his pouch anyway and retrieved a green rupee, which he handed to his sister. "Be quick, alright? I don't want you getting lost in the crowd."

Clutching the rupee tightly and flashing a smile that confused and concerned Zelda more every time she saw it, Aryll nodded and skipped off to make her wish. "Thank you!"

Sighing a little, Link watched her carefully, tracking her dark braids through the crowd. "Sorry about her."

"Sorry for what?" Zelda asked, resuming her cake now that her heart stopped its overly-loud thumping. "I think she's cute."

"You didn't grow up with her," Link said. Despite his words, he still kept his attention locked on his sister, mindful of possible dangers. "She's a lot."

Zelda shrugged. "I don't mind. I never had a sister."

A bright green rupee splashed into the fountain.

The sound was far louder than it should have been, rumbling in Zelda's chest.

A shriek pierced the air. Smoke and dark laughter carried down from above. Blood red stared down at them from a mask of bleeding bone, twin swords on his hips, his broad arms crossed.

The crowd erupted, pushing and shoving each other out of the way,

Tourists' shoulders slammed into Zelda's chest as she ran toward the fountain, Link dodging through the crowd with much quicker movements. In seconds, the center of the market emptied, a ring of fleeing civilians pressing against the alleyways as they desperately tried to escape, shouting for the guards.

The Master Sword flashed in front of Link, raised defensively, placing himself between Zelda and Sooga.

On instinct, Zelda grabbed Aryll, pulling her in behind Link's protective wall. The girl didn't protest, her brown eyes wide with terror as she stared out at the Yiga surrounding them.

They hadn't attacked, not yet. Zelda's heart pounded heavier than ever, far more than Link's earlier thoughtfulness had elicited. She unclipped the Slate, summoned a bomb, and held it, poised to throw and detonate the first Yiga to make a move toward them.

"Your Highness," Sooga's voice rumbled. He gave a mocking bow, coupled with the snickering of his subordinates around him. "We've come to offer our congratulations on your nuptials, and our sincerest apologies for the cancellation of your wedding."

Cold rushed down Zelda's spine. She swallowed hard, unsure of his meaning, but knowing she wouldn't like the answer one way or the other.

Twin swords glinted, reflecting the sun overhead. "On your death may you part."

Oh, that wasn't even that clever! She chucked the bomb as soon as one of the Yigas opposite Sooga lunged toward them. The bomb exploded in a magnificent display, sending the targeted Yiga and a few around him flying among the splintered remains of the corner of the rooftop. Her mind worked a mile a minute, running through all possible scenarios.

She could make a shrapnel bomb as before, but Link was without his shield. They'd be equally caught in the blast. She could stasis and blast them with bombs, though that would only delay the inevitable. Her Slate would run out of battery far faster if she combined runes in such rapid succession. There was cryonis, potentially forming a shield out of ice.

She blinked.

Yes, that could work.

Steel clashed behind her, Link's blade meeting both of Sooga's. The rest of the Yiga sprinted toward her, their cruel sickles poised to strike. Turning toward the fountain, Zelda slammed the cryonis rune, a sheet of ice starting to rise. Zelda lept into the fountain, dragging Aryll with her. A thick wall of ice wrapped around them, the whole circle of the fountain. Blades screeched in vain against the sides.

Trapped, but safe, at least for now.

"Link!" Aryll yelped, releasing Zelda to pound her fists against the wall. Beyond the ice, Sooga's red form slammed hard into the blur in royal guard blue. More red crept up, like rushing blood, giving up on the princess to take down the soon-to-be-prince.

Sword clashes and shouts carried over the wall of protective ice, the disarray of battle disorienting Zelda, the sounds echoing inside of the chamber she'd created. Her shield wouldn't last forever, and in any case, it was utterly worthless to Link on the outside. There had to be something-!

Link's back slammed hard into the wall of ice, his sword clanging on the stone rim of the fountain.

Aryll's pounding became even more fervent. "Link!"

"Get away from them!" Another voice soon joined the confusion. Zelda squinted through the distortion of the clear, warped ice, trying to make out the details of the dark-cloaked swordsman that caught Sooga's sword before it sliced Link in twain.

Sooga stumbled back, now having to contend with two fighters at once. Yet, the second was no legendary swordsman, no Champion of Hyrule. He moved with a limp.

Zelda's heart shot into her throat. "No, no no no no no!" She swiped through her runes, desperate for any means of preventing the near-certain death of her father-in-law. As noble as it was to defend his son, Sir Arn was not a knight of Hyrule any longer. She didn't know when he'd last practiced with the ceremonial blade he carried on his hip, but like the blade, he wasn't meant for combat. They'd both shatter.

She dispelled the ice wall, the rune shattering into quickly-evaporating chunks, tripping up the Yiga who danced around Link and Sir Arn, trying to get a strike in. Scanning over the battlefield again, the circumstances changed little from when she had first hidden away. Yet, they were not identical. In addition to Sir Arn's presence, two Yiga, dead or dying, she didn't care, had dropped their weapons.

"Run!" Zelda pulled Aryll out of the fountain, then shoved her away from the fight. "Find your mother!"

Darting forward, Zelda ducked and wove around the Yiga assassins, her sole target the curved sickles. One's handle was slick with blood, the other she had to wrench out of the Yiga's hand.

Goddess, this is stupid. Judging by the look of horror on Link's face when he saw her with the weapons, he thought so too. No matter.

She set the sickles together, the handles crossed, and trapped them in the air with stasis. Though Link had no idea what she was doing (neither did she), he shifted his focus to giving her the few precious seconds she needed, striking down the Yiga that came closest to her.

As quick as possible, she tore a ribbon from a nearby stall and tied the blades together at the hilts. She grabbed the first blunt object she could find - a wooden bowl, whose fruit she immediately flung into the cobblestones as a trip hazard - and slammed it as hard as she could, repeatedly, on one end of the crossed blades. She just hoped she didn't chip them.

Stasis flashed red, the signal that the magic would soon shatter. When it did, she had magnesis ready, focused on the focal point where the sickles crossed. Time resumed its flow, and released the potential energy. But rather than down, as Zelda held it firm with the Slate, the energy released in another direction: around.

Spinning on an axis of the locked magnesis rune, the blades whirred through the air, a blur of metal. Several of the Yiga jumped back, scrambling to get away from the slashing wheel that Zelda swung through the air. One by one, the Yiga disappeared in bursts of smoke and paper, the magic of magnesis faster than they could run. She managed to catch a few as they ran from her, ripping through armor and flesh. But with every contact, and the pull of gravity, the blades slowed down, the potential energy expending quickly.

Only a few remained. Link and Sir Arn traded off blows with Sooga, dancing around the fountain. As the last underling fell, Sooga lept back. He crossed his blades again, the very action that had inspired Zelda in the first place. Only, he had magic of his own. It rushed out toward the swordsmen, catching them in a glow of red. They froze, seemingly caught in a moment of time. They grit their teeth and trembled, red shimmering over their paralyzed bodies.

Sooga's eyeless mask snapped toward Zelda, sending her heart straight into her throat. She raised the Slate, unsure of what to do. Goddess, if only her hands would stop shaking!

When Sooga raised his blades again, Zelda forsaw the paralyzing strike against herself, holding her helpless while the Yiga cut her throat.

But he didn't.

Smoke and paper burst in front of them, Sooga disappearing into the air.

Link gasped, released from the Yiga's hold. The tip of the Master Sword scraped against the ground. He whipped his head, trying to discern the enemy's location. "Where-?"

"I don't-" Zelda had started to reply, then a pop of red burst in the corner of her vision.

He was fast. She knew Link was fast. He'd parried a Guardian's blast, blocked the sharp daggers of the enemy, protected her from monsters and misled allies.

But he had no shield. Not this time.

She hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from her in a rushing blow. The back of her head smacked hard against something firm. A weight fell on her - trembling, hot, and panting. One moment standing and searching for hidden danger, the next trapped under her appointed knight.

His head bowed; his chest heaved; one hand cradled the back of her head, the other straining to hold himself up. A parody of a lover's embrace.

Fwip! Fwip fwip fwip fwip!

Boots crashed into the market, a herd of beasts with crossbows. Shots flew, striking the rooftop, which cracked and splintered, bolts lodged in the structure.

A scream. Quick footsteps running toward them.

"Don't touch him!" Sir Arn barked, his voice shaking. "The arrow's lodged!"

"Khh!" Link panted, groaned, his eyes squeezed closed, his whole body trembling with the effort of just keeping himself off of her entirely.

What a stupid thing to be concerned about.

Wood snapped. Link bit back a cry of pain. Tears fell onto her chest - damp stains of fear on her bodice. Carefully, hands grabbed him, pulling him off of Zelda. The broken shaft of an arrow clattered to the ground beside her, the fletching dotted with blood.

More hands helped her to her feet, though she hardly noticed them. The faces and uniforms of the guards who finally, finally arrived, were a blur to her. She tracked only her knight, deep scarlet staining the back of his tabard - wood stuck out of his shoulderblade.

Bile rose in her throat, terror paralyzing her as firmly as the Yiga's magic. Calls for medics rang through the streets. White-gloved hands laid on her shoulders, pushing her down a different route back to the Castle.

She didn't see who picked him up. Lady Uma's skirt disappeared as she turned a corner, wailing over the son they carried away.

---

Her father's orders locked her in her chambers. Familiar, safe, and on the other side of the Castle from the object of all her prayers and nervous shaking. The bed beneath her was soft, warm, plush, everything that the cobblestone of Castle Town was not.

She hugged tthe plush goat close to her chest, staring at the same patch of rug that she had been when the guards delivered her here — the image, the sound of the impact replaying in her head over and over and over and-

Bile rose again. She swallowed it back down. Her own words haunted her, mockingly. "The person who pulls the Master Sword is cursed by the gods! How is he supposed to fight any of that?!" The girl had asked with tears in her eyes, the certainty of doom lingering in the air. And she, selfishly, foolishly, promised something impossible: "Link is not going to die. I will never let that happen."

He wasn't dead. He wasn't. They hadn't given her any news of him. If he was dead, she would be the first to know. They would tell her. They would tell her if he was dead. That she hadn't heard anything in over an hour was excellent news, really, because that meant that he-

The door handle turned, clicking open.

A white ponytail hung over her friend's shoulder. Worry lines creased her Sheikah eye. Her brown finally looked up, meeting with Zelda's green. She shut the door behind her, frowning. "Zelda-"

"He's dead!" Zelda howled, tears streaming down her face, her chest so tight she could hardly feel her own heartbeart. "I killed him! He's dead because of me!"

"Wait wait wait!" Impa rushed over, grabbed Zelda firmly by the shoulders, and squeezed until Zelda's sobbing breaths evened. Streaming tears distorted Impa's face. "He's not dead."

Not dead. Not dead. The words smacked her as hard as his body, knocking her breathless. Her tears kept flowing, those she couldn't stop, but she quieted her wailing as best she could, only a squeaking whimper remaining.

Rhythmic pressure against her shoulders started to bring Zelda back to reality. Something real, something tangible to focus on. The pressure, the heat of her friend's skin, the pain of her nails digging into her palms. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"He's not dead," Impa repeated, slower, calmer, keeping Zelda's attention, their eyes locked. "He's going to be fine. Mipha is with him."

Mipha. Mipha, the woman he scorned?! "But she-! And he-!" She choked on her words, her breaths stopping and starting in bursts. Slow, slow, she mimicked Impa's inhale, exhale. Slow. Calm.

No more news came until Impa was certain that Zelda was grounded again. The bed sank slightly as Impa sat beside her, holding Zelda's hands and rubbing gentle circles over her knuckles. "Princess Mipha was alerted immediately when the guards brought Link back to the Castle. They'd already extracted the arrowhead by the time she got there. She and the medics closed the wound. As I understand, there should be nothing left but a scar and some lingering stiffness for a while."

The words sank into Zelda's core. She nodded, continuing to take deep breaths to steady herself. "Can- can I see him?"

Impa's frown deepened. "No, Your Highness. He's sequestered on the other side of the Castle, under guard. Your father doesn't want him, or you, to leave your chambers until the wedding tomorrow."

"But I-!" Zelda started to say, cutting herself off, her attention falling to their hands between them. She nodded, reorganizing her thoughts. "Right, that is…very rational of him. Were I in his position, I would have ordered the same." Still, she couldn't help the ache, a tugging tether to a point far away, across corridors and chambers and thick walls of stone and wood. She squeezed Impa's hands in return. "What of the assassins?"

"Mostly escaped," Impa admitted. "I don't know if any were captured or killed."

Not ideal, but that couldn't exactly be helped at the moment. Settling herself, Zelda nodded. "Alright. That is troubling, but…he is alive." She paused, a silent prayer of gratitude sent to Hylia on her next breath. "I am glad."

---

Bits of news trickled in through mid-day. The Champions were gathered to the Castle, the threat of an attack looming in everyone's minds. Castle Town was swept for casualties and information - little of either was found. The wedding would proceed, threat or no threat. As demoralizing as the attack had been, they would not let it stop or delay the event that so many had gathered for. And, more pressingly, many in her father's court were anxious to see whether the king's predictions would ring true: would the hero inspire anything in his supposedly-divine bride?

When the servants delivered lunch to her door, Zelda's stomach soured at the thought of it. Cold meats, jam, pickles, cheese, slices of bread and thin seed cakes, all arranged beautifully in a display that was as elegant as it was frivolous. And in any case, she had no use for it. Still, it might be worthwhile to keep it, just in case her stomach settled. She couldn't eat half of that amount on a normal day. Setting the tray down on a low table by the fireplace, Zelda shook her head, taking only the glass of sweetened wine to steady her nerves. "Who would eat all of that anyway?"

"I would!"

A shock like lightning ran through her, making her jump and whirl around toward the window — on which sat, smiling, her appointed knight, halfway-through the portal. His bright grin did not square easily with the deathly pale image she had ruminated on all morning. Part of her wondered if he was a phantom, that Link had actually died and they were all lying to her to get her to calm down enough so they could figure out a plan to find another knight willing to take up the sword.

But, his boots on the wooden floor clicked. Illusions, phantoms, wouldn't do that.

A phantom certainly wouldn't make himself at home in her room, sit himself down on her chaise and grab a cut of cold ham from her plate. When he reached out, white bandages peeked from beneath the collar of the Champion blue tunic.

She stared at him a moment, trying to piece together the scene in front of her. Link. Alive. She knew that already, though she was glad to have it confirmed. Link, eating her crackers. That was also easy enough to understand, with the appetite he'd displayed thus far. Link, sitting in her room, crawling through her window, behaving as though this were a common affair rather than the absolute, utter contempt and disregard for good sense and her father's strict orders.

"What in Hylia's name are you doing here?" She finally managed to say, stringing together her thoughts long enough to get a sentence out.

He shrugged, wincing only a little, and grabbed another slice of bread from the tray. "I got bored."

"B-bored?!" Zelda stammered, hardly believing her ears. "My father has commanded both of us to remain in our rooms to keep us safe! For Hylia's sake, you were shot, Link! You could have died! Why would you disobey him and exacerbate your injury in such a way? Goddess, how did you even get here?!" She darted toward the window he'd just climbed through, expecting to see a ladder leaning up against the wall, or a rope dangling from the roof.

"Climbed," Link answered, shoving another small sandwich into his mouth.

"Wh-?" Zelda studied the cracks between the stone blocks of the Castle walls that made up her tower and the rest of her home. They were barely rough enough for a lizard to scurry up!

As she puzzled over the mystery of his appearance, he grabbed a handful of nuts and rose from the plush cushions, tossing walnuts and almonds into his mouth as he wandered her room. "There's not much to do in my chambers anyway. I was hoping you had something to help pass the time." He stopped by the bookshelf, giving the titles a cursory glance. "Anything good to read?"

"That depends on what you're interested in," Zelda heard herself say, as if this wasn't one of the strangest moments of her life. Ever since that little Guardian appeared, many moments were competing for that title. "I've got books on geology, medicine, history-"

His fingers traced the spines of the books along the top shelf, passing over Historia and Artifacts, toward the end of the shelf that housed the shorter, thinner, paper-bound novels, the spines almost unreadable from creasing. He'd nearly gotten to the slightly ajar cover of Lurelin's Passion when Zelda's brain caught up to her.

"–Actually, reading is so dull!" She said quickly, rushing over to the bookcase to block his view of the books that would multiply her mortification exponentially. "Let's do something else!"

His raised brow told her that her fib was not convincing, but he backed down regardless, letting his hand fall from the spine of Ocean Zora Musical Theory Vol. 2. "Like what?"

"Like, um…" She looked around the room, biting her lip as she tried to think of anything other than how close she was to something she could never recover her pride from. Beneath her desk in the corner of the room, a Guardian claw laid on the corner of her notes. "Let me show you what I've been working on!"

Without giving him a moment to question or redirect, she grabbed his hand, leading him to the desk and gesturing at the schematics. "This is a piece of a Guardian that broke off. It was too damaged to reattach, but this front part of it is perfectly salvagable. See?" It wasn't until she tried to pick up the claw that she realized what she had done — she glanced down at his hand, still in hers, and blushed. Releasing him quickly, Zelda picked up the Guardian claw with both hands, as if she'd meant to do that all along.

If Link thought anything of her sudden choice to take his hand, or the fierce blush on her face, he made no sign of it. He tilted his head, furrowed his brow, and observed the claw as she showed off different angles. "If you say so."

She winced slightly, struck by his apathy. "R-right…" Don't be ridiculous, Zelda. Why would he care about something like this? He's a knight, not a scientist. She lowered the claw, unable to look at him again, unsure of what she could possibly say or do now that she'd completely lost his interest.

Then, to her surprise, he picked up her notes. Unlike the claw, her written words held more interest to him. He read over her words, then glanced at the claw, and back at the notes again. "The clamping mechanism is the intact part, but the sliding joint that would have connected it to the Guardian's leg is corroded?"

Her brows shot up in surprise. "Y-yes! That's right." Not that it was a particuarly difficult observation to make, since she'd written as much.

Link set the notes down and held out his hand for the claw, which Zelda quickly passed to him. He turned it over, examining the mechanisms from new angles. "I honestly didn't have any context for what I was looking at, but I see what you mean now." Turning the corroded end up, he squinted at the metal pieces inside. "There's warping inside of it, so the pieces don't fit together like they're supposed to."

Amazed by his quick study, she nodded. "Yes. This particular specimen was from the Guardian that attacked us in the Breach of Demise."

He made a face at that, frowning deeper. "That thing was awful. It was way faster than the ones you're working with now." He handed the claw back to her. "I'm guessing this was one of the pieces we whacked off when we fought it?"

She tried not to think about every contact that his skin had with hers, brushing against her fingers as he handed off the broken piece. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't touched him since…

His back slammed against the wall of painted grain, his breath rushing from his lungs as she pressed her lips to his. She'd never forget the noise he'd made, surprised and satisfied and desperate. So unlike-

He hissed in pain, sweating, his breath ragged. His weight on her, sudden and alarming, pressed her to the ground. His hand on the back of her head, cushioning her from the impact.

She glanced at his hand now. His knuckles were red, starting to bruise. Swallowing, she corrected the assessment in her mind. That was the last time, earlier that day. She wasn't sure which event would haunt her more.

"Zelda?" Link's voice cut through the haze of her mind, dragging her back to the present.

"Hm?" She blinked, remembering that she was in the middle of a conversation, and that she had failed to answer his question. "Oh! Yes, this is one of the legs that you and Impa sliced off." She clutched the claw close to her chest, her gaze fixed on the notes rather than on him. "Sorry, I was just remembering-"

"It was scary."

He caught her attention again, like a surprise attack, striking her where she least expected it.

He traced along the lines of her sketch on another piece of paper, the tips of his fingers following the pencil-darkened lines of a Guardian's spider-like appendages. "It moved unnaturally. Nothing alive moves like that, perfectly stable even over rough terrain. When it climbed over boulders and broken walls, it didn't stop aiming straight." He shuddered. "That thing still haunts my nightmares. I do not want to be on the defensive against one of those things ever again. I'm glad they're on our side."

Ba-dump bump. She searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit or exaggeration, any indication of falsehood. Her only conclusion, based on the downturn of his mouth and the darkened color of his eyes, recalling the attack, was that he was being entirely honest. He was honest about something that frightened him. Him, the bravest warrior in Hyrule, the Hero who wielded a sacred blade, the knight that would face Calamity Ganon and take it down, potentially losing his life in the process. Link was frightened.

She studied the claw in her hand, unsure of what to say to that, unsure if she should even acknowledge it. "It…was," she agreed, settling on a decision at last. "I don't know what might have happened to Hyrule if you hadn't been there to- to protect me."

As terrifying as the Guardian's red sights on her was, it couldn't compare with the hold that his eyes had on her now. Thump. Thump. Thump. He could hear that. There was no way he couldn't hear that, as loud as a Hinox's stomps. From this distance, this slowly-closing distance, his hand moving toward her, surely he could tell that she still lov-

"Can I see that again?"

Her thoughts came crashing to an abrupt halt. "Huh?" She stared at him, then his hand, outstretched toward her, the pieces falling into place too slowly. "Oh! Yes, sorry." She passed the claw back to him, her face burning. Stupid, stupid! Now empty, her palms stung, her nails digging into soft flesh.

He examined the broken end again, turning it to catch the light at different angles. "I realized, remembering that battle, that I didn't cut anywhere near the claws. Our strikes were toward the base of the body, because we were trying to destabilize it." His brows knit in concentration. "It wasn't a strike that warped the metal. What was it?"

Confused, Zelda tried to see what he saw, tilting her head and stepping closer to him to see it from the same angle. "I don't know. That's part of what I'm trying to figure out. It didn't look like a cut or brute force. It looked deformed in a…I don't know, sickly way? Like it was buckling at weird angles, sort of like how a balloon inflates and deflates with a change of pressure. Unnatural for this material."

"Like something was pressing against it from the inside."

"…Yes," she said, the pieces clicking into place. "Something that malformed and corroded at the same time." A shudder ran down her spine at the thought. She stood on the precipe of something, the final calculation. But, too many of the variables remained unknown. The piece had come to her weeks after the attack. Any residue would have long dissipated. Whatever caused the corrosion left no trace now.

Link set the piece back on the desk. "Well, if anyone could figure it out, it would be you. You're brilliant."

Thud-da-bump.

"Oh, well, that's very kind of you," she replied, fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse, twisting the buttons that held it closed at her wrist.

"You saved my sister's life today."

She froze. "I…I did?"

"That thing you did with the ice," he explained, taking a step back to gesture broadly, imitating the action of the battle, "pulling her into the fountain and freezing it like that. I couldn't have protected both of you, not with that many Yiga attacking us. But you protected yourself, and Aryll. You bought time for us to regroup without having to worry about whether our choices would lead to either of you getting hurt."

That's not exactly how I remember it, she thought, holding her tongue on that matter. She'd seen the ice wall as a foolish plan, trapping them inside while Link and his father fought without her help. What she did was selfish, not heroic.

"But you got hurt," Zelda insisted, trying to persuade him against such warrantless praise. "You were thrown into that same wall of ice."

"Eh, I barely noticed," he said, shrugging in indifference.

"I noticed! Whenever you get hurt because of me-"

"It has never been because of you, Zelda," he cut her off. His hands found her shoulders, his expression stern. "It has never been your fault. I knew what I signed up for when I accepted knighthood."

Mipha's scars haunted Zelda's thoughts; her words, so similiar to Link's, whispered through her mind. Everyone knew the risks going in, or so they said. They couldn't have known, not really; none of them could possibly have known how dangerous their mission would be, how many traitors were lurking in the shadows. Twice now, her Champions had been nearly killed by the blades of the Yiga.

His face blurred, focusing again as she blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. Her chest tightened, each breath a struggle to maintain as even as she could. Had she been alone, or with Impa, she might have let them fall. But not here. Not in front of him. Not after everything he did for her. She was not the one who deserved to cry.

Still, she couldn't make herself speak, knowing that any attempt would lead to the outcome she dreaded the most. It was bad enough that he had to save her from the Yiga, that he took an arrow for her, that he fought monsters and assassins and creations of malice. He didn't need to worry about her any more than he already did.

Slowly, his left hand lifted from her shoulder, rising toward the back of her head. The memory of his hands in her hair, his heartbeat against hers, the taste of his lips, sprang back to her mind. For a moment, his focus left her eyes, shifting slightly downward. Her heart pounded harder, barely daring to breathe. His hand almost seemed to hover, just barely making contact. "Truthfully, Zelda, I was more worried about you than me." Gently, he set his hand on the back of her head. "I tried to keep you from hitting the ground too hard. I thought I accidentally gave you a concussion."

Her breath rushed out, hardly believing his words. "You were shot, bleeding out and actively dying, and your concern was whether you hurt me while saving my life?"

Merciful Hylia, if he kept smiling at her like that, she'd never have another coherent thought again.

"Yeah," he laughed softly. Stroking her hair, while distractingly pleasant, did not help the thundering rush of blood that set her skin ablaze — and it certainly wasn't necessary to confirm that she wasn't concussed! "Did you expect anything else from me?"

"No," she admitted, her voice soft. Against her better judgment, against every rational thought that had ever entered her mind, she stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on his chest. A rapid, steady beat matched her own. "No, I did not."

How unlike the alleyways of Castle Town, hidden away in her room, yet without the cloak of night and shadow to hide the blush on her face, inching closer to his, drawn to the warmth of his breath.

Metal creaked, the door handle turning.

One moment, Link was holding her, his lips almost on hers, and the next he was sprinting and diving to the floor, the skirt of her bed hiding him from the view of…Impa?

Her friend shut the door quickly, her back against the wood. "I'm sure it doesn't concern you at all, Princess, but rumor has it that the king is on his way to speak with the future prince consort. My sister is asking him a thousand questions in the meantime, but she's sure to run out eventually!"

At once, Link popped up from his hiding place, his eyes as wide as a spooked hare. Without another word, he rushed toward the window, flipped himself around, and started climbing with all the energy of a hightail lizard.

In the mere moments it took Link to run out as fast as he could, no doubt sprinting and jumping across the rooflines of the Castle to get back to his own room on the other side, Zelda's face burned, her mouth trying and failing to produce any words.

Mercifully, Impa didn't acknowledge his departure, only giving her a teasing grin. "So did you kiss him?"

A whistle like the little Guardian's highest note escaped her. She grabbed the schematics from the desk, hiding her face from her friend. "Impa!" She gripped the papers tightly, trying to recollect herself. "…No."

Her friend only laughed. "That's too bad, but it's not like you won't have plenty of opportunities after tomorrow." She glanced up, the faint thumping of boots above them. "Glad I thought to check on him first. I'm sure your father would have been just thrilled to have caught him in here."

Another screeching whistle, cut off abruptly as Zelda plopped herself onto her chaise and pressed her scarlet face into the throw pillow. At least one of them could laugh at the situation, and Impa had enough laughter for the both of them.

Notes:

So if you got to the end and thought "aw man, but i wanted to see more consequences from Link getting shot!" boy do i have the fic for you. Link's Thought Brambles does it way better than I ever will. Go read it right now! And then come back and tell me your favorite scene. Mine was the Ganon dream sequence.

Chapter 17: You, Me, and this Castle Between Us

Summary:

"Terrako," she decided. "Its name is Terrako."

Link raised a brow. "Terrako?"

Beee-whoop!

He shrugged, not inclined to argue with the egg. "Alright. Terrako it is."

Notes:

Hello, friends! Thanks so much for all your encouraging words this Zelink Week! I really appreciated reading all of your comments. You've all been so nice! I hope I can continue to provide some fun, interesting stories to entertain and enthrall!

Having barely escaped certain disaster, Zelda kept her window shut for the rest of the day. While it somewhat assuaged her fears that her father would somehow find out about Link's disobedience and utter contempt for royal procedures, she found herself glancing at the window for the rest of the afternoon, waiting for him to return. When supper arrived, she resigned herself to the fact that he would not.

She wondered if they gave him the other half of the roast cucco. Not that she ate a bite of it, her stomach too knotted up to consider eating more than the smallest bites of bread. The wine was acceptable, watered down and sweetened with berry juice according to her preference.

Brrr-reeeep?

Something scratched against her door, half-knocking, whistling in a familiar way. Zelda jumped up from her bed, leaving behind her journal and the guardian claw, and rushed to open the door.

Her tiny companion scuttled inside, wobbling back and forth in a way that at first had Zelda concerned, until it whistled a little song to itself, the wobbles matching the tempo.

An incredulous laugh escaped her. "Are you dancing, friend?"

Wee-oop! Her Guardian hopped up onto her bed, making itself at home on a nest of blankets, bunched up in the corner and leaning slightly against a bedpost.

She joined her companion, sitting cross-legged on the other end. "I take it that Purah and Robbie are done interrogating you for today?"

A short, affirmative whistle answered her, the little Guardian settling itself into the nest. What an odd little egg it was!

The evening darkened, the sun dipping below the mountains far to the west. A candle flickered on her nightstand, giving a soft orange glow to the room, illuminating her notes and the books she compared them to. But, the longer she looked at them, the more it strained her eyes. Eventually, she had to give it up, sighing as she set the book aside. She let her head rest against the firm pillow behind her. "Gods, what a day this has been."

Wrrr-eep? Her Guardian whistled, the piston the top of its shell popping up curiously.

"Oh, yes, I suppose you must have missed it," Zelda leaned forward. "I was out with Link's family in Castle Town. There was a Yiga ambush, and Link got injured." The little Guardian's surprised whistle made Zelda laugh a little. "He's fine now. Princess Mipha patched him up." She sighed, her gaze once more drawn toward the window, now almost completely dark. "Father has forbid either of us from leaving our rooms until the wedding tomorrow. He's concerned that there may be another attack, and he wants us both under guard." She paused, turning away from the window, still no sign of her knight returning. She wouldn't want him to come back at night anyway. The Castle rooftops were dangerous enough to traverse during the day. "He came to visit me regardless, saying he was bored. I don't know if I believe him, but I do think that he's probably bored now."

A curious whistle followed this statement, the Guardian tilting its body back and forth. The action made Zelda laugh, reaching across the bed to pat the top of its shell.

"Bored as in there's not much to do. He doesn't have any books to read, or people to talk to, at least based on what he said earlier. He might be lonely, assuming he's not already in bed for the night." She thought the possibility unlikely even as she said it. The man never seemed to sleep, at least not during normal hours. Maybe being under guard, rather than on guard, would grant him some peace to rest. His hyper-vigilance would kill him someday.

Her Guardian's top piston shot up, a sharp whistle escaping. It hopped off the bed, landed on her rug with its clawed feet, and scuttled over to her desk. Curiously, Zelda rose from bed as well, following it. When the Guardian reached the desk, it hopped up onto the chair, grabbed the Sheikah Slate with its claw, and waved it around.

Amused, Zelda approached the Guardian, leaning down to see it on the same level. "You want to play with the Slate, little one?"

Brrrr-eep! It passed the Slate to her. When she turned the screen, her own face looked back at her, reflected from the Guardian's angle.

Zelda's eyes widened. "Oh! I see now! You want to check on Link, and let us communicate through your receptors?"

A short, two-tone affirmative followed her assessment.

It wasn't technically against her father's orders, since, physically speaking, neither of them would actually leave their rooms. And it wasn't like he didn't want them talking to each other. Really, it was no different than sending Impa to relay the message that Link survived the shot. Nodding her herself, Zelda walked over to her door, turned the handle, and offered the little Guardian a salute. "I trust you with this vital mission, little friend."

Bweep! It raised a claw in salute back, then scuttled out the door.

---

"Can you believe this stuff, Zel?" Link's voice carried through the Slate, slightly crackling. He held up a waistcoat, embroidered with patterns of the Triforce, his incredulous expression grainy and tinted blue on the Slate's screen.

She laughed, holding the Slate out as she laid on her stomach across the bed. She could see and hear him well-enough, but he could only hear her. He certainly had no idea she was imagining how handsome he would look wearing it. "I will agree that it isn't exactly your usual style," she conceded.

Placing the waistcoat back on the rack, Link reached for the next in the long series of gifts and princely articles he'd been given that he had less than no interest in. "These were the weirdest," he prefaced, grabbing a wooden chest from the floor below the hanging fabric. "I mean, two crowns? I only have one head!"

Maybe it was a good thing he couldn't see her. And, that the Slate didn't pick up every sound. The choking gasp would not have instilled much confidence.

He held the crowns with none of the reverence that her father would have taught him, gripping both in one hand, grabbing them by the bands. These were precious metals! They could bend!

Getting over her initial shock, Zelda cleared her throat. "Actually, that is my doing," she admitted. "Those came from the treasury, and I was asked to pick one out for you to wear at the ceremony tomorrow."

The crowns held new significance on his second examination, his brows raised in surprise. "Oh." He took one in each hand, comparing them. "Why give me two, then? Unless you want me to wear them like this." He placed both on his head, overlapping awkwardly in a way that made Zelda laugh even harder than before, which only made his grin brighter.

"No, not at all like that!" Zelda giggled, shaking her head even though he couldn't see it. "You're supposed to pick one. I left the choice to you."

Taking the crowns from his head, Link observed them both again. For several seconds, he studied them silently, frowning a little in concentration. "I don't know, they're both…fine? I didn't get a choice in the rest of my wedding clothes, so I really don't know what makes something fashionable or not."

Truthfully, neither did Zelda. She hardly paid attention to that sort of thing. Her seamstress designed everything for her. "We're royalty. We set the fashion," she reminded him. Many times she'd worn something she thought hideous, but the courtiers quickly copied the style. As much as she hated the giant hat she'd worn one solstice festival, the rest of the season was at least amusing, with the rest of the court copying her with their own gaudy, atrocious hats that stretched higher every week. "Which one do you like?"

He didn't answer right away, still comparing them. "The silver is nice," he said. A neutral statement, one he couldn't have known would sting like a knife between her ribs. "Mipha uses a lot of silver in her ornaments. Kind of reminds me of her."

All the breath rushed from her lungs. Well, he hit the mark straight on, didn't he? She let the Slate dangle, held by the grip on one side.

"The diamonds in this one are also pretty neat," he observed, breaking Zelda out of her spiral before it started in earnest. "I think I like this one better. The leaves and everything seem, I don't know, fitting? I mean I found the sword in the Lost Woods, and that's what landed us in this weird position."

She lifted the Slate back again just in time to see Link put the golden-leaved crown on, checking how it looked in the full-length mirror against the wall. A slow grin spread across her face. Now that looked like a prince. "I like it," she said, "it kind of matches my dress."

"Yeah?" He turned back toward the Guardian, the blue of his eyes amplified in the Slate's ambient glow. "I figured it'd just be white and gold or something."

Rolling onto her back, Zelda held the Slate above her, watching him take the crown off and put both away in the small chest. "It was going to be, but I had the tailors add Silent Princess flowers to it."

"Oh, yeah," Link smiled, reaching for the next in his ridiculous fashion show of foppery. "Those are your favorites, right? The white ones with blue centers?"

Ba-dump. She bit her lip, her blush invisible to him from the distance of the Castle. "That's right. Not exactly traditional."

Link shrugged, showing off a long, blue cloak with gold trim. Even held up above his shoulders, it still brushed the floor. Zelda bit back a laugh, imagining all the dust and dirt it would catch if he ever tried to wear it. A cloak made for someone of her father's stature would never fit him well. "Who cares if it's traditional? It makes you happy, and that's what's important." Exactly as she envisioned, he wrapped the cloak around himself, tying it around his shoulders. Zelda was about to comment on the ridiculous size when he grabbed the sides of it and spread them out like massive wings. "Look at this! I'm Revali!"

Laughter burst from her with so much force, and so unexpectedly, that she dropped the Slate, which smacked her in the face and clattered to the ground. Rubbing her nose and flipping back over, Zelda grabbed the Slate off the rug. "Revali" was still flapping his wings and flying around the room, jumping up and over his bed, unaware that his antics caused her any harm. After a few seconds, she hardly noticed the pain anyway, her attention fixed on how his laughter, even tinny and filtered through the Guardian's audio input, made the whole room a little brighter. "Careful, Master Revali, wouldn't want you to trip on your tail feathers!"

"Me?" Link whipped the cape around, the fabric swishing dramatically through the air, then getting caught on the corner of his bed like an awkward tail. "I would never! I'm the greatest warrior in all the Rito, all of Hyrule, even! Not even that devastatingly handsome, charming, fearless Hylian knight comes close to my abilities." He flapped his fabric wings again, crossing his arm over his chest like the Rito Champion. "He can't even fly, after all."

"Indeed not," Zelda agreed, still giggling. "He would truly be a fearsome foe if he could. It's frightening enough how he can scale walls and scurry across rooftops and run faster than an arrow. I really think he's part hightail lizard."

"Only on my mother's side," Link joked, untying the cloak and tossing it haphazardly back onto the rack. As that was the last of the clothing he had, at least that he could find any amusement with, he plopped down onto the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of the little Guardian. "I truly cannot wait to be over with all of this."

A pang shot through her heart at his words. "I doubt we'll really be over with it, even after tomorrow. My father is only going to demand more from us. He's never going to be satisfied until I unlock my divine powers."

Link blew his bangs out of his face, leaning back on his hands. "Yeah, I've noticed. He'll probably make both of us go pray every day."

She shuddered at the thought. It was bad enough that she was trapped in her circumstances. Now that Link was nearly-bound to her, there was no escape for either of them. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Link sighed. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "I see his reasoning, even if I don't agree with it."

She didn't know what else to say, letting her silence speak. What could she possibly say that would make their fates any more tolerable? An indefinite lifetime of begging the Goddess for any assistance was hardly the marital bliss that her novels described.

Finally, he broke the silence. "What would you do if you didn't have to pray all the time?"

Zelda blinked, staring at his image in shock. "What?"

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I mean, if you could do anything, go anywhere, what would you want to do?"

"I don't know," Zelda admitted, "It's not like I'll ever get the chance-"

"Just humor me. Let's say you unlocked your powers tomorrow, and all of this was over. What would you do with your time?"

A small beat of hope fluttered in her chest at his words. He thinks it will be over? Goddess, I want him to be right. Even the thought of an end to it, a release of all the awful tension that coursed through her veins like poison, was nearly intoxicating. She thought for a moment, running through all the possibilities. "Well, even if I unlocked my powers, we can't be certain that we'll have everything we need to defeat the Calamity. We still don't know what the ancient hero and priestess had on their side. The tapestry depicts the Divine Beasts and Stalker Guardians, but it doesn't show all the other kinds, though we've unearthed those in the same rock layers. There's much regarding the first Calamity that we still don't know about. There must be many more records that were destroyed in the last ten thousand years. There are only snatches and pieces of descriptions, and these are difficult to translate. Just last week I saw mention of a Divine Beast with a description that didn't seem to match the ones-" She paused. During her long speech, she'd turned her attention toward her desk and bookshelf, where her notes and records were scattered, waiting for her to dive back into them. When she finally looked back at the Slate, Link's chin rested on his palm, a smile on his face and the electric blue glow even brighter in his eyes, like lightning through her bones. Even though he couldn't see her, she still felt the urge to hide her blush behind the throw blanket on the corner of her bed. "I, um, I'd want to keep researching."

"Mhm," Link hummed in amusement. "I could have guessed that." He sat up a little straighter and stretched his arms over his head. Zelda tried not to stare at the thin line of bare flesh that peeked from the hem of his shirt. "I hadn't thought about the Guardian thing, but that's a good point. This guy isn't on there at all, either." He reached forward and tapped the top of the little one's head, his hand disappearing from view. Having not said much for the whole exchange, the Guardian whirred in warning. By the way Link jerked his hand back, she guessed it had swatted him.

"It isn't," she agreed, laughing a little. "I've only ever seen one of this model. It's very unlike the others, in color and function. Its integration with the Sheikah Slate is especially unique. It can interact with other Guardians, amplify the power of the runes, and act as a two-way communicator. There's no telling what else it can do!"

Link nodded, his goofy smile returning. "Yet I don't think you've given this model a name."

"Hm?" Zelda thought back, reviewing the last couple of months since they found the little egg outside of Castle Town beside the giant tower. "It's a companion model."

"Sure," Link agreed. "But that's not a cool name. That's its function. The stalkers and scouts and skywatchers have cool names that aren't just a description of their functions."

She had to concede that point. "Those came from the records. I didn't name them."

"Is this one in the records?" He gestured toward the Guardian. "What's its name?"

Zelda paused. "Well, I haven't seen a mention of it yet," she admitted. "So I don't know."

"Hm," Link tilted his head, his eyes tracing the various features of the little Guardian, looking everywhere but the lens he'd been talking to for the last hour. "So, you could call it anything?"

The idea surprised her. She held the Slate out at arm's length, her knuckles brushing the soft rug. "I suppose, yes. Though I don't want to call it something and then find out that its called something else."

"I don't think the Guardian will mind much," Link reasoned.

Brrr-eep!

She bit back a laugh at the noise, especially the slightly startled look Link had when it answered him. "I do believe our friend agrees. Very well. What about…" She closed her eyes, concentrating on the image of the Guardian. Its name had to fit, whatever it was. The little Guardian existed in her memories, though she could hardly account for why. Like most things from before the Calamity's prophesied return, her memories of the Guardian were hazy. She was certain that she'd seen it before her mother died. Maybe she'd called it something?

A light flashed over the night sky, a shooting star streaking through its stationary kin. Her chest ached the longer she watched the dark space where it had once been.

Music played softly beside her, the same she'd heard in her first memory of the strange Guardian, the same it played for her after the Master Sword chose its wielder and the world crumbled around her. She reached out, her hand small against the snow-white shell of the companion that sang her mother's lullaby.

"You won't leave me too, right, Terrako?"

A gasp brought her back to reality. Drops of water blurred Link's image, rolling down the tilted screen. The ache in her chest remained, dulled, but distinct. She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "Terrako," she decided. "Its name is Terrako."

Link raised a brow. "Terrako?"

Beee-whoop!

He shrugged, not inclined to argue with the egg. "Alright. Terrako it is." A distant bell chimed. Link looked toward the right — Zelda toward the left, counting all twelve tolls. With a sigh, Link rose to his feet. "Well, it's getting late. We should try to get some sleep before tomorrow. I have a feeling it's going to be a long day."

Zelda blinked away the unbidden tears, watching the angle of Link's face change, no longer at the same level as her — as the lens she viewed him from. "Yes. You're right. Goodnight, Link."

His smile chased away the ache in her chest. "Goodnight, Zelda." As he opened the door for the Guardian, he tapped its head again. "And goodnight to you, too, Terrako."

Chapter 18: Someone Else's Promise

Summary:

The last time she watched the dawn and dreaded the coming day, her eyes were tired, her nerves shot, and the memory of a tragedy tingled on her lips.

Today, she was awake.

Notes:

Y'all already know what's about to go down. I don't have to tell you.

Dawn crept slowly over the horizon, rosy clouds heralding in the long-anticipated day. Many guests already filled the spare rooms of the Castle, and many more were waiting in the outlying town. Caterers, florists, musicians, priestesses - Gerudo, Sheikah, Gorons, Zora, Rito, and Hylians. Every tribe in Hyrule waited to see the union of the failed princess to Hylia's chosen. Gossip circled her in the waking hours, new phrasing that haunted her. It was a curse, they said, a terrible fate, to be married by the king's will to someone so beneath him.

The last time she watched the dawn and dreaded the coming day, her eyes were tired, her nerves shot, and the memory of a tragedy tingled on her lips.

Today, she was awake. Awake, and studying one of the smaller relics she snuck into her room, with a lopsided toy goat on her lap. She turned the relic over in her hands, tracing the strange circles with her fingertips. Somewhere between metal and stone, the surface of the relic was rough, pocked like pumice. It glowed orange, a softly pulsing light. A heartbeat of energy, hiding something powerful within, if only she could access it.

Her mother could have done it. Her mother would have done it, if she had more time. She recalled one of the few, precious memories she had of the late queen. They'd found this relic together outside of the Castle, and spoke of the theories behind its uses for many hours after that.

"You'll just have to keep studying," her mother said, "The answers will reveal themselves with time. You can uncover any mystery if you set your mind to it. You have the light of discovery in you." She pressed her hand to Zelda's, so much smaller back then. A small glow radiated from the queen's palm, warming Zelda's skin. She tried to do the same, squeezing her eyes shut and wrinkling her nose and pushing as hard as she could against her mother's hand. When her mother laughed, it wasn't at Zelda's expense. "You'll get it someday, little bird. I have faith in you."

Zelda brushed away tears with the back of her hand. "You wouldn't have let this happen. You wouldn't have let him marry me off," she inhaled sharply, trying to stem the inevitable drain before it started. "But then, Father wouldn't have seen a need to do it, if you were here." She flexed her palm, studying the lines intently. As she had thousands and thousands of times since she felt her mother's light, she tried to recreate it. She scrunched her face and concentrated and tightened her muscles so much that her arm shook with the effort. And still, in the end, only mortal flesh remained.

The baby goat flopped over on her bed as her maids helped her dress. The white gown she'd been fitted for still felt like a tent on her. But, as she examined herself in the mirror and traced the stem of each Silent Princess on her bodice, she decided that it wasn't all bad. And as she was not required to do very much while her maids brushed and braided her hair and stuck it full of decorative pins, she kept fiddling with the relic. It fit well in her hand, like it was meant to be gripped. It had ridges on one side, just the right size for fingertips to rest against them comfortably. It wasn't related to the Guardians, that much she'd uncovered. Its energy was similar, and it had the same orange glow that a dormant Guardian would. But that meant very little. All of the Sheikah tech was powered with the same energy - orange when dormant, blue when active. Blue as the eyes of the man she was going to stand with in front of Hylia, her father, and the whole kingdom.

A knock on her door surprised her. One of her maids answered, the others almost threatening Zelda that if she so much as flinched while they were pinning her hair into place, the whole thing would come undone and they'd have to start over. When Fenn bowed, Zelda's stomach dropped. She tracked the reflection of her father in the mirror as he entered the room.

Curiously, the first place he looked was not at her, but the goat that flopped awkwardly on the corner of her bed. He frowned at it, not in anger, but confusion. As much as she liked the idea of her father being frustrated with something, Zelda felt the need to explain.

"Link gave that to me," she said, trying her best not to move her head as she spoke. "He said it was a Necluda tradition to gift your bride a baby goat or lamb."

Her father studied the patchwork goat with as much curiosity as she had looked on her relic. "I didn't know he could sew."

"Well," Zelda tried to keep the laughter from her voice, "that question still remains, doesn't it?"

Catching her meaning well enough, the smallest smile rose on his face. He set the goat back down and, to her amusement, gave its head an affectionate pat. "A fair assessment, I will admit. Though I will say that I'm quite glad he didn't give you a real lamb. Where would you have kept it?"

"That's what Link said, too!" Her maid glared at her as she spoke, reminding Zelda to keep herself still. "It was very kind of him to make that for me, don't you think?"

Her father's gaze lingered on her a moment, his brows downturned, almost…sadly. "Yes," he finally said, softer, "He's a good man. Very attentive. Very bright." He paused. "And he eats a lot. He ate three baked apples in one afternoon during one of our lessons. For such a lean figure, I have no idea where he put it all."

A small snorting laugh escaped through Zelda's nose. "He has a second stomach for desserts."

"You both have that in common," her father observed.

When the maids at last finished with their masterpiece, Zelda's hair set to their satisfaction with braids and pins and all manner of pearls and gems, her father approached. He set his hand on Zelda's shoulder. She held her breath, wondering what he would say. What flaw could he find in her now?

But instead of a flaw, his eyes held only softness. His hand was warm - not in the divine, holy way, but in the way that flesh and blood and bone and mortality felt. He had no golden drop. His heart beat pure Hylian blood. She wondered if he knew that hers did too.

"You look like your mother," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Zelda straightened in her chair, set her hand on her father's, and felt every golden ring on his fingers. He still wore the band that he and the late queen shared. She didn't think she'd ever seen it off. "Even the flowers?"

A soft chuckle was his reply. "Perhaps not, but she would have liked them. She loved those sorts of things." A gentle squeeze on her shoulder. "She would have been proud of you, Zelda, for doing everything you can for Hyrule. Had you the benefit of her teachings, I have no doubts that you would have excelled even beyond her abilities. Your spirit is strong."

Zelda's breath caught, her eyes welling with tears. He believed she was capable? Would have been capable, rather, if the circumstances were different. Did he not share Agrena's theory?

Taking a step back from her, he shook his head sadly. "I wish that had been the case. Every day, I wish things had gone differently. I am sorry, my daughter. Were the world a kinder place, and the Calamity not breathing down our necks, I would never have asked you to do this."

She took a moment to process his words, her hands returning to the relic, gripping it tightly. "I understand, Father. Whatever it takes, right? Maybe this…maybe this will be for the best, if it saves Hyrule from the Calamity." She wished, rather than believed, it to be true. As she rose from the chair, she turned from the reflection of the king and princess to the flesh and blood father who looked like he would break apart if a strong wind blew against him. She nodded to Fenn, dismissing the maids now that their work was complete.

When the last one shut the door behind her, leaving them in privacy, Zelda rushed forward to hug her father. His strong arms hugged her back, wrapping around her with all the comfort he could give, even if it was never going to be enough.

"I'm so sorry, Zelda," he said, "If I thought there were any other way-"

"I know, Father," she squeezed him tighter, fighting the tears that threatened to wash away all her makeup. She wished, more than anything, that he had been this honest sooner. "I- I'll keep doing everything I can to unlock my abilities. Whatever it takes, whatever sacrifices are required, I will succeed."

His beard smelled like cedar and incense, leftover scents from the preparations for the event that would mark the turning point of Zelda's life. She clung to him for as long as she could, wishing that she could stay there forever. Even in her father's household, she had some freedom. And though Link had said he would never force her to do anything she didn't want to do, she still wondered: would he be even more devoted to her training? It's likely what her father expected of him, and she was sure he impressed on Link the necessity of it during their meetings. Would she trade one set of orders for another?

But, with the burden of her training pushed on to Link, would that mean her father could just be…her father?

She drew away slowly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over her lined eyes. "Father, I…I've been thinking of Mother…today." She took a steadying breath, and opened her hand, showing him the relic with its soft orange glow. "Mother and I, we found this one day while we were out exploring. We discussed it at some length together. We thought it might have some hidden power, something that we could uncover if we worked hard enough." She bit her lip, hardly caring about the paint that was probably staining her teeth. "I never did uncover its secrets. But, in a way, perhaps that's poetic." She held up the relic. "Would you hold on to it for me, just for today? I was thinking it could be…a piece of her. So she's present in some way."

Gingerly, her father took the relic from her hand. He examined it, his hand so much larger than hers. Normally, when he looked at the relics that brought her joy, he scowled and told her that she was wasting her time with them. Perhaps invoking her mother's memory had some affect on him. He tucked it into his pocket. "I'll see what I can do to get it displayed during the ceremony."

Smiling a little, Zelda quickly hugged her father again. "Thank you."

---

The hour drew near, guests streaming in from town. Zelda's stomach flipped, peeking out at the gathering crowd from the safety of the balcony, peering around the doorway. Merciful Hylia, she'd never seen so many people in her life!

She took a step back, suddenly quite dizzy. She couldn't do this. She had to. She'd prayed, she'd worked, she'd fought monsters. She didn't know she could fight until she did it. Perhaps this would be like that?

A small tap on her shoulder broke her away from her spiraling thoughts. Zelda jumped, only to relax a moment later when she saw the face of her friend. She almost never saw Impa in anything other than her armor, at least not during the daytime. And Zelda could not think of a single instance where her friend had ever worn a skirt. Yet, here she was, dressed in the formal wear of the Sheikah Tribe, in what Zelda assumed must have been the height of Kakariko fashion — and holding a dozen Silent Princesses.

"Where did those-?" Zelda started to ask, watching in confusion and amazement as Impa grabbed the bouquet that she was to take to the altar, untied the white ribbon that bound the stems together, and wrapped it firmly around the stems of the vibrant wildflowers.

"I'll give you one guess who gave them," Impa teased, giving Zelda a wink that sent butterflies swarming through her stomach.

She traced the shape of the flowers on her bodice, the leaves of thread matching the imperfect, uneven ones of the real thing. Half the buds were closed, and petals were missing, and Zelda had never before seen any arrangement she liked so well as this one.

A murmur like the rumbling of a distant waterfall suddenly ceased as music began to play. Zelda's stomach twisted, her heart pounding so loud that she was sure the whole of Hyrule could hear it.

She didn't often see the view from the top of the sanctum, where the golden Triforce shone onto her. From such an angle, even back in the wings, not yet visible to the crowd, she could already feel the knots forming in her muscles as she tightened up, her whole body freezing at the thought of being visible to everyone. Someday, if she ever got so lucky, she would ascend to the throne. The view from this angle would no longer be foreign to her. Yet, now, she thought she might faint from the height.

The music shifted, the first song coming to a close.

A warm, gentle hand rested on her shoulder. "Are you ready?" Her father asked, though they both knew that it would be impossible to call it off now if she wasn't. The sentiment was hollow, but she appreciated it all the same.

She took a breath, daring to look up at him. His crown was not so bright in the shadows of the wings, not yet stepping into the sunlight before all of Hyrule. "Are you?" She set her hand on his offered arm. One step at a time, they approached the light.

The whole sanctum hummed with tension and strings, musicians hovering over their instruments; the last notes rung in the air for several seconds before they began the next set.

Zelda tried not to look down. She kept her eyes fixed ahead as resolutely as she could. She fought to keep her fingers from twitching. Every muscle within her wanted to flee, to run and run and run and never look back. But, at the same time, she burned to know what it would feel like to stand in her father's place, to look on the kingdom from the throne that could be hers. To feel like she belonged in the light.

Petals of white sprinkled on the ground in front of her, and Aryll, heedless of the tension, tossed handfuls into the crowd waiting far below. At least someone smiled, and the guests in the front rows were pleased enough to be rained on with flowers. It was a symbol of good luck, after all. She imagined that some of them would take the petals home and place them under their pillows at night, inviting dreams of their future loves. She did that, once. Her dreams were not kind. She left the flowers where they lay after that.

When the last of Aryll's loose petals were thrown, she turned toward the Triforce and the high priestess standing before it. The flowering branch pin glinted in the sunlight. With no more petals of her own to toss, Aryll waited by the altar, her arms stiff and her smile bright, excitement and anticipation in equal measure.

Her father's hand rested on Zelda's back as they approached the golden wings and the altar set before it, between her and the throne. Some part of her wondered if it looked to the guests below the same way it felt to her: a subtle push. Yet, when she locked eyes with the eternally disagreeable Agrena, the last step was hers. Anchor or engine, her father's support drew away, leaving her entirely alone before the Goddess. An illusion of choice.

At least there was Aryll, with so much wonder and awe in her eyes that Zelda could almost believe that this was a matter of celebration, not a sentencing. Aryll presented Hylia's first offering: the bouquet from Zelda's hands, laying it on the table behind the priestess, between sacred wine and rings of gold. And then, her final task complete, Aryll stepped aside, joining the king on Zelda's side of the balcony.

The music began again, melting into a new song. Briefly, she glanced at the crowd gathered below. She immediately regretted this decision, as the height alone made her want to be sick. She fixed her gaze on the priestess, took a breath, and prepared herself for the next step.

She fought with every muscle in her body. She would not twitch.

"Princess Zelda," Agrena began, her voice clear and ringing, as the king's did whenever he issued decrees from so high a position, "as the descendant of our incarnate Goddess, all our hopes live within you."

No pressure, or anything. She would not twitch.

The priestess raised her right arm, directing the crowd's attention to the opposite side, the shadows of the far end of the throne's balcony.

Zelda's heart hammered against the walls of her chest. She held her breath, hardly daring to move at all. As if, somehow, she could escape her fate if she was still enough. A fawn in the grass.

Champion blue surprised her, though perhaps it shouldn't have. He wore the tunic she made for him, under a coat and over trousers more fit for a prince than a knight in over his head. At least he looked as uncomfortable with the clothing as she felt, and that brought a little ease to her heart. He was a patchwork of hero and prince and friend, all tied up together with clumsy thread and topped with a circlet of gold.

She blinked.

So, he really did prefer gold.

Behind him, his parents followed, stopping only when Agrena raised her palm to them.

"When a man is bound to the line of Hylia, he forsakes the family he had before," Agrena announced, removing the holy Triforce from around her neck, the divine symbol hanging from a golden chain. "His allegiance rests with Hyrule, seeking not the elevation of his kin over the welfare of the kingdom." She offered the Triforce amulet to Sir Arn - a transaction. Compensation for the loss of their son.

Gold traded hands. The priestess gestured for Link to step forward. Obediently, silently, he left them behind, joining Zelda under Hylia's wings.

Electric blue captured her now, just the same as the first time she'd taken notice of him. He stopped just in front of her. Though he was clearly trying to maintain the princely demeanor that her father undoubtedly impressed upon him, the sparkle to his eyes betrayed his true feelings. Her own excited anxiety reflected back at her. It wasn't their choice, but as far as cruelties went, this might be the most tolerable outcome for them both.

This was as far as they could get from the shadows of the alleys of Castle Town. In the light, watched by everyone, and yet the thrill of the secret bound them. When the corner of his lips turned upward, she couldn't stop her reciprocity, if only for a moment before she remembered herself. They were to marry under the orders of her father, a great injustice to them both. And yet, for once, she felt the odd thrill of victory. Without a choice in whether she would marry, she dreaded the revelation of who would become her groom. Somehow, the Goddess chose Link, the only person in the world who she'd willingly bind herself to. The anomaly of a knight. The clandestine lover. The mystery and the hero. Perhaps it was still the will of the gods to punish her — the gods must have been as fooled as the rest of Hyrule. Their shared passion in the darkness had escaped divine notice.

High Priestess Agrena untied the bouquet, her brows shooting straight up and her mouth pressed into a furious frown when she realized what offering Zelda had actually brought. The glare she shot may have been scathing, but, for once, Zelda found herself unaffected. If Hylia would reject her one way or the other, she might as well deserve it for some offense. Imperfect wildflowers, cut with the sacred blade, would never please the Goddess — and that pleased Zelda just fine.

Unable to chastise Zelda in so visible a position, Agrena gritted her teeth and lifted the white ribbon from the table, holding it high for the crowd to see. "Witness, Hyrule! The binding thread of Hylia, tied to her descendant."

Dutifully, Zelda held out her hand, allowing Agrena to wrap the silk ribbon thrice around her wrist. Much of it still remained, and dangled almost to the ground. The priestess likely didn't catch the detail of the fraying threads on her end. She hoped it was merely overlooked and not an intentional slight. But, knowing Agrena's position on Zelda's usefulness, she didn't have high hopes for negligence.

Regardless, she had a part to play. She set her right hand over her heart and bowed toward Hylia, towering over all of them. "Sacred Mother, hear my oath and grant my request. As I am loyal to my husband, may your favor remain true to Hyrule. As you do not leave your people in the face of evil, I shall walk with him through all adversity." The lines were traditional, rehearsed, and yet her cheeks still burned.

Taking a breath, Zelda took the larger of the rings, willing her hands to stop shaking. As she slipped the ring onto Link's left hand, the sourness in her stomach rose higher. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. He deserved more than this fate. At length, she forced herself to speak. "As a ring has no end, neither shall my covenant to you."

"The line of Hylia is unbroken," Agrena announced as Zelda's hands fell back to her sides; her voice rand loudly, and yet, it mysteriously dulled when Zelda turned her focus back to Link's face. "From the first incarnation of the divine, to our princess before you now, the golden thread has never been severed. From mother to daughter, the light of Hylia passes. It is, therefore, the highest honor to join that unbroken line. To surrender the life you led before, to sacrifice yourself and your previous desires for the sake of Hylia's descendants."

If Agrena's back wasn't turned, she might have witnessed the expression that nearly cracked Zelda's royal facade. Only the hero could get away with rolling his eyes at such a sacrosanct address — it took all of Zelda's willpower not to laugh.

She bit her tongue, trying to convey with her eyes that he should at least try to behave himself, but found the task utterly futile in the light of his smile. He knew exactly what he was doing, taking advantage of his position and Agrena's preference. Never, since her father's announcement of the threat now coming to fruition, did Zelda think she would smile at her wedding. Yet, here he was, doing everything he could to finally break Zelda's mask. And so he did, much to Zelda's surprise, and relief. When she at last gave in and smiled back at him, she'd never seen him look so self-satisfied.

The tail of the ribbon wrapped around Link's left wrist, binding him to Zelda's right. There was no escaping their fate now, if they ever could. Somehow, the binding was not as oppressively tight as she imagined.

Now, it was his turn. He bowed toward Hylia, beginning his recital of the same vows spoken by every prince consort since time immemorial. "Gracious Hylia, may your favor rest upon your people. May you grant us wisdom and courage. My life is yours, for the service and protection of Hyrule," he cut his eyes toward Zelda, making her heart nearly beat out of her chest, "and of your blessed descendant."

Hylia have mercy, how can he do that with only a look?

His hands did not shake. His calloused fingers brushed against hers, gold warmed by his palm before he sealed her fate with the band that matched his own. "May the Goddess hold me to my covenant with you."

She never expected the ring to fit so well, or to miss the feeling of her husband's hand in hers.

Sacred wine splashed into a crystal glass, rimmed with gold. Deep, red as blood, and earthy. When Agrena raised it skyward, the light between the wings of the royal crest streamed through the glass, casting a tinted glow on the altar and the couple that stood before it. "Blessed Hylia, we pray you will receive and accept your chosen hero into your bloodline." That felt unnecessary.

The wine came down, back to the reach of mortals. A transfer of divinity, of favor from the Goddess. In her mind's eye, she foresaw the ultimate humiliation, the culmination of High Priestess Agrena's belief in Zelda's inferiority as a descendant of the Goddess. Giving the cup to Link, the Goddess's chosen, declaring him more worthy of divinity than the princess who bore the golden blood, would have sealed Zelda's fate in the eyes of the entire kingdom.

Agrena's spindly fingers held the glass by the stem, hovered a moment between them, as if deciding whether to declare Zelda as worthless as she felt — and the cup passed to her.

Trembling, Zelda took the glass, her fingertips brushing the many rings of gold and silver, glittering gems bestowed by the royal family for her long service to the Crown. Zelda lifted the glass to her lips, the tannins of the wine filling her nose. Her family's royal crest gleamed on Agrena's middle finger. If she wished to keep her position, she would not so easily insult the Crown. No matter what Agrena privately thought, there her thoughts and criticisms would remain — quiet.

The wine was not sweet. It dried her mouth, acidic and angular. She fought hard not to cough, and her father's warning of spilling the wine soon came back to her mind as she handed the cup to Link. Meeting his eyes, the same blue that had captivated her, fascinated her from the very first day she saw him, the first moment he refused to demean her when anyone else of any rank would have, now emboldened her. Bitterness lingered on her tongue.

At least she was not alone, even in this small adversity. When he took the wine glass from her, drinking from the other side, the sour twitch of his face made her laugh.

Oh. Oh, that was audible.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what she had done, at the focal point of the entire sanctum, where it felt like even her slightest breath could have been heard by the deafest ears in the back of the chamber. She had actually laughed! And damn him, damn him, he smiled all the more for it. She'd get him back for it.

"Ahem," Agrena's soft insistence demanded the return of the glass, to which Link quickly obliged, not wanting to be stuck in her presence any longer than necessary.

Once the glass returned to its place on the altar, Agrena at last recited the ending of the ceremony. Not that Zelda heard a word of it. Bound by a cord of white, Link took her hand, leading her back to her family's side of the balcony.

Her father and Aryll followed soon after, and Link's family would circle around to join them in the drawing room for preliminary sketches. Tension hummed in Zelda's chest, begging for a release. As they escaped the sanctum and turned toward the drawing room, the bright light of open windows beckoning them toward the location best suited for the court painter to capture their likeness, a hand rested on Zelda's shoulder, making her jump.

"I haven't heard you laugh like that in years," her father remarked. "I am glad I heard it today."

"O-oh…" Zelda stumbled over her words, glancing back at her father as he came to walk beside them. "I did not intend to-" She blinked, a light catching her eye. A soft orange glow, the strange stone of an ancient artifact, one she'd yet to discern the purpose of, hung as an amulet around her father's neck. In the center of his chest, bound by a thin leather cord that was perhaps the quickest means of lashing something together, the memory of her mother shone out for her, for all of Hyrule, to see. Her father's warning returned to her thoughts, along with the conclusion: her mother laughed at him for it.

"I like your laugh!" Aryll happily supplied, bouncing alongside them, joining Link's side. "You were so pretty up there! The light sparkled in all your jewels and pins! You looked like a goddess!"

A phantom blow struck her in the chest. She offered a smile to Aryll, forcing herself to conceal the pain that the girl's well-intentioned comment had produced. "Thank you, Aryll. You are very lovely, too."

At least the turning of the compliment to a more willing recipient released Zelda from the duty of carrying on much more conversation. Aryll had enough to say on the ceremony to make up for the thoughts and opinions of the rest of the party, and the rest of the kingdom.

Link didn't need to keep holding her hand. But, with every step, every moment of recovery from the fierce tension of the morning, she could find no reason to dissuade him.

 

 

Notes:

See? I am capable of writing two happy chapters in a row.

Chapter 19: Prince Link Marctacia Hyrule

Summary:

"People of Hyrule," her father's voice boomed from the other side of the door, slightly muffled through oak and ringing, "it is my great pleasure to introduce to you Princess Zelda and Prince Consort Link Marctacia Hyrule!"

Notes:

I don't know about you guys, but wedding receptions are super underrated in fiction. So I've decided to be the change I want to see in the world.

"No, no, to your right- your other right!" The painter snapped, waving his pencil around and pointing to the same spot that Zelda had just been in not ten seconds prior. At least someone seemed to be enjoying the torment, though Zelda had no idea what made Purah smile like that.

As there was no way to keep the Sheikah Slate on her during the ceremony, she'd entrusted it to Purah, who now held up the Slate, whispered something to Robbie, and laughed at whatever private joke they shared at Zelda's expense. Beside the two researchers, Terrako bounced and scuttled around the room, having grown bored of the portrait-making and clearly looking for something else to entertain it. The little Guardian got needier by the day.

Zelda straightened her back, sitting as far forward on the uncomfortable, ornate chair as possible. Though she'd tried to smile, as she thought that a wedding portrait should be seen as a happy event, even given the circumstances, the painter was not having any of it. If it was not a pose or expression that Zelda could keep for over an hour, then there was no point in even attempting it.

Beside her, Link at least appeared more comfortable with the procedure. Comparing this torment with endless hours of guard duty, this was probably downright pleasant. At least he wasn't in the rain or on the lookout for monsters.

Finally, Purah had enough of her joke. She stepped over to the painter, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "You know, I bet this would go a lot faster if you had a couple reference pictures. You could potentially draw on all of them to create something, rather than trying to capture an imperfect moment."

While Purah's words confused Zelda, the painter didn't even try to discover her meaning. "Is this some kind of Sheikah riddle?" He sighed, pausing his sketch.

When Purah showed him the Sheikah Slate, his eyes went wide. "Oh!" He reached out for the Slate, his hands hovering over the edges. "May I?"

Nodding in approval, Purah handed him the Slate. "Not to put you out of the job, of course. This Slate is capable of producing true-to-life images, but they aren't very big. The largest we've been able to print is about," she held up her hands, touching her forefingers and thumbs in the shape of a rectangle,"yea big? Somewhere about there."

The Slate clicked a few more times as the painter tested the camera rune, fascinated by the technology. "I see what you mean now. Taking a variety of photos to create a composite from them?"

"Precisely!" Purah chimed, waving Aryll over. "And, maybe we could snatch a few with the families when you're done collecting yours?"

With this compromise, though Zelda had hoped they would have been quickly released from the drudgery of portrait-making, at least Zelda was amused. Rather than simply a portrait of her and Link, regal and refined, Purah had other, more interesting ideas.

Adding the whole family to the portrait was certainly not traditional, especially when the only members of said family were all mortals, but Zelda delighted in the portrait all the same. Rhoam and Sir Arn stood shoulder to shoulder, likely a new development for both of them. Uma stood by Link, while Aryll insisted on being in the front, where she could at least be seen.

When the combined portrait was taken, Zelda let out a breath of relief. "Well then, can we move on to-?"

"Absolutely not!" Purah decided, pointing furiously back at the spot Zelda had been in before. "There's so many more variations I want to get!"

The beginnings of a headache pulsed against the back of Zelda's eyes. "Purah."

"Come on, Your Highness!" Aryll insisted, grabbing her hand and starting to pull her back into the bright sunbeam. "I want a photo of us together! My friends are never going to believe me!"

If Zelda weren't so invested in this child, she might have had more of an objection. She let out a small sigh and allowed herself to be led back onto display. Though Aryll was only a head or so shorter than Zelda, that appeared not to matter very much to the girl, as she linked her arm with Zelda's and smiled brightly. Now Zelda was beginning to reconsider her eagerness to show Link's family how the Slate worked.

One by one, variations on the photo composition were taken, swapping family members in and out. Purah even suggested a photo of the Sheikah with the royal couple (and one of just the Sheikah in their nice wedding clothes, which Zelda wondered why on earth she was still there for that). But, when Zelda was sure there could be no further variations, mathematically speaking, unless Purah now wanted to try variations without the royal couple, which could take them hours, Zelda was beginning to feel the first pangs of hunger. The scent of roasted meat and fresh baked bread wafted from the reception in the courtyard below, where enough food and drink was offered by her father's generosity that she was quite certain they could feed all of Hyrule twice over.

Well, that might be an exaggeration. Maybe one and a half Hyrules.

The families had already started on their way to the reception, the king leading Link's family, involved in a jovial conversation regarding some battle or other that their children were far too young to remember. Feeling at last that the ordeal must be over, Zelda started to follow behind them.

"A-ah! Wait!" Purah caught Zelda's arm. "Just a few more!"

A twinge of annoyance flashed through her chest. "Purah, please."

"Three! Three more, that's all and I swear it!" Purah clasped her hands together, pleading with the saddest, wettest eyes that were absolutely unbecoming of a royal researcher — but completely on brand for this royal researcher.

"Fine," Zelda sighed. "Three, and I'll hold you to that."

"Excellent!" Purah whooped, accidentally tossing the Sheikah Slate into the air and nearly giving everyone in the room a heart attack before she caught it. "Right, better make these count. Linky, you stand there by the window, and Zellie, you stand across from him."

Completely reversing the previous instructions from the painter, Purah placed herself on the far side of the light. Utterly bewildered trying to imagine what Purah could be planning with such a shot, as the lighting was all wrong and would surely show them as mere shadows against the backdrop of sun, Zelda could only stare at Purah in confusion as she took her place across from Link. "Like this?"

"Closer!" Purah said, adjusting the lens of the Slate. "Hold his hands and act like you like him!"

Red flushed over Zelda's face. "Purah!"

"Just do it!"

This heat had better not show up on the photo, Zelda thought, the tips of her ears burning. At least his hands were warm in hers, and he didn't appear nearly as mortified by the ordeal. In fact, with the golden sunlight on his skin, brightening one side and leaving the other in a soft blue shadow, she thought he looked rather…handsome. She blushed all the more, especially when he smiled at her.

"You really hate this, don't you?" He asked, giving her hands a slight squeeze that was entirely unnecessary.

"It's not my favorite thing to be put on display for others' amusement," Zelda admitted, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second. Goddess, she was going to have a daily struggle with this, wouldn't she? If only she could have told her younger self that the worst part of being married was trying not to act as in love as she really was, her younger self probably would have laughed in her face. Perhaps it's a blessing that I did not inherit Mother's gifts of prophecy.

Link only shrugged, unaffected. "It's just Purah. Besides, she wouldn't show these to anyone without our permission." This didn't sound like a statement, so much as a threat, very pointedly directed at the researcher he was staring down.

A small laugh escaped her at such a threat, finding the idea of Link threatening and wrestling the photos away from Purah far more amusing than perhaps it should have been.

"Alright, I promise!" Purah assured them, holding up her hand and crossing over her heart. "The photos are yours to do what you want with them, but I get to keep the fun ones. I have ideas for future weddings!"

"What other weddings could you possibly-?"

"Shush!" Purah raised the Slate, cutting Zelda off. "Act like a couple! Look at each other, not me!"

Barely containing her frustration, Zelda obliged. It took all of her willpower not to blush even harder. Those electric blue eyes were going to be the death of her one of these days. And now that she was married to him, there was really no escaping the inevitable now.

"Click, snap!" Purah announced, mimicking the sounds of the Slate. "Ooh, this is a good one!" She scurried over to Zelda, showing them both the photo.

Golden light surrounded them both as a halo, beams and lines of gold around the nearly black silhouettes of a princess and her prince. Zelda pursed her lips. "…Alright, I'll concede. That looks very nice." She especially liked how all of her flaws and flushing were completely missing from the photograph. With only her outline, very few could find a flaw in her. "You said you wanted to do two more?"

"Yes, yes!" Purah hopped back to her place, aiming the camera at Zelda and Link again. "So just like that, but I want you to kiss him!"

All that blood rushing straight to her face was going to make her faint. "Purah!"

"No," Link frowned at Purah, glaring. "We're not doing that."

Zelda didn't know who was more surprised by his statement: the one who demanded it, or the one who secretly wanted it. He…didn't want to kiss her? Why? She bit her lip as Purah tried to reason with Link as to why it would be an absolutely wonderful portrait to put in an album, and he continued to deny her. Was it because he didn't actually like her? He did say that he didn't love her like he loved Mipha. And he said that he wouldn't have married her if given the choice. So maybe that did imply that-

"Okay, fine!" Purah threw up her hands, conceding the point. "Then I'll move on to the last one."

At least Zelda would be saved from the immediate spiral of negative thoughts, as she quickly found herself dragged back over to the original location, the golden light now shining on her again and making her face - red as it was - visible for the camera to see.

"I want to get one more family shot!" Purah declared, shooing Link over to Zelda and gesturing for him to stand beside her.

"Whose family?" Zelda asked. "Ours have already left."

"Your family!" Purah answered, snapping her fingers. On her cue, mechanical legs scuttled back over to her, having been previously occupied following Robbie around and whistling attentively whenever he showed Terrako any of his notes. "Your little egg son!"

"He's- Terrako is an ancient relic! It was designed for the fight against Calamity Ganon, and it is a highly-advanced and delicate automaton! It is not my-!" Her denial of Purah's ridiculous request ended when Terrako started whistling at her from down below, hopping slightly in a way that looked very much like a toddler begging to be picked up. Her dignity may never recover.

However, Link beat her to it. While Link had never successfully picked up the little Guardian before, it clearly took some liking to him, allowing him to hold it…like a baby.

"Link, it's a Guardian. You don't need to hold it like that." She chided.

"Then how would you have me hold it?"

"First of all," Zelda grabbed Terrako from him, gently lifting and readjusting the Guardian. "It's bottom-heavy, not top-heavy like a Hylian child would be. Hold it straight, both arms around the widest part of the shell." She'd pretend she didn't hear the camera clicking.

When Terrako had settled to everyone's liking, its legs tucked up close to its shell-body, Zelda at last resigned herself to stand beside Link again, face the camera, and…Oh, she might as well. Against her better judgment, she set her hand over Link's as she'd seen young couples do with their newborns many times when showing off the newest member of their families.

"Click, snap!" Purah laughed, happy to show off the photo that, save for the fact that Terrako was a Guardian instead of a newborn, looked far too much like the announcement of a child for Zelda's taste and pride. "Okay, now we're done! Let's get to the feast!"

---

Down in the courtyard, all of Hyrule had gathered, eating and drinking, laughing and singing along with the musicians that kept everyone entertained while they waited on the presentation of the royal couple.

As tradition required, Zelda set her hand on Link's arm, prepared to meet Hyrule as a married woman. Her stomach churned. Approaching the double doors that would allow them to access the festivities, one of the guards at the door knocked twice on the wood behind him.

"They're here! Formations!"

Formations?

Before Zelda had much time to think on it, the music abruptly changed to a loud fanfare, short blasts of brass horns nearly blowing her eardrums out.

"People of Hyrule," her father's voice boomed from the other side of the door, slightly muffled through oak and ringing, "it is my great pleasure to introduce to you Princess Zelda and Prince Consort Link Marctacia Hyrule!"

A shiver ran down Zelda's spine, even before she caught sight of the crowd. That was his name now. Well. That would take some time to get used to.

The doors swung wide, the light of the festivities and afternoon sun nearly blinding them both. Swords glinted in the sunlight, raised in an archway as the music rose again, vibrant and triumphant and far, far too loud for her taste. Their destination was, mercifully, at the other side of the tunnel of raised sabers. They just had to make it across the battlefield in one piece.

For his inexperience with the trappings of royalty, Link maintained the royal disdain like an expert. His face remained utterly implacable, unaffected by the cheering and crowd, set only in the most polite, princely smile that he could paint onto his features. Such control only told her that he was absolutely trying to make her laugh during the ceremony on purpose. The bastard.

A long table, draped in white and decorated with golden bowls of fruit and plates of all manner of food (and rocks?), awaited them. From the tunnel, which did not come down to slice them to pieces despite the intrusive thought that sprung to her mind at the end of it, they had a short distance to walk around the front of the table and behind Champions Daruk and Urbosa to reach the designated seats, marked with large ribbons tied in obnoxiously gaudy bows on the backs of them.

For a moment, Zelda wondered which of the identical chairs was meant to be hers, staring at them in confusion. But, Link answered her question quickly, pulling out one of the chairs for her, and taking the one on her right. Just like the throne that would eventually go on the left of her father's, he would always be at her right hand. The thought was both comforting and terrifying, though she couldn't articulate exactly why.

For a courtyard that had been so full of noise and chatter mere moments ago, the whole kingdom fell deathly silent - waiting. Watching. And Zelda, coming up blank on what she was supposed to be doing, wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and stay there forever.

After what had seemed like an eternity, but in reality was probably no more than a couple seconds, King Rhoam approached his chair beside Link, grabbed his wine glass, and raised it high. "A toast to my daughter and Prince Link! May they live long and happy lives, and together, see the end of the threat of the Calamity!"

Goddess, he had to bring that up now? She sank a little into her chair. That was point of all of this, after all. Without the Calamity, without her failures, the wedding would have never taken place. They all had to make sure that was never forgotten.

All around them, glasses raised in response, toasting to the royal couple.

"Are we supposed to be doing that?" Link's question was so quick, so quiet, that Zelda wasn't sure she heard it at first.

"I don't think so? Just watch the king. He'll tell us," she answered. Hopefully, anyway.

A chorus rang out, congratulating the couple and wishing them prosperity. And, for a moment, Zelda thought the attention would finally leave them.

"My daughter is the next in line for Hyrule's throne, and as such, her husband will be the next king," her father announced, "Champion Urbosa of the Gerudo, what say you?"

Oh. Oh no.

From the end of the table, having to lean over slightly to see around Daruk (who quickly backed up anyway), Urbosa tilted her glass toward the royal couple. "The Gerudo welcome Prince Link. He has already proven his valor in battle, and so won the respect of my people. May he be a great defender of our beloved princess!"

Zelda released a breath, but then quickly realized the truth of the matter: Urbosa's might be the kindest words spoken that day.

"Champion Daruk of the Gorons, what say you?"

Daruk hardly needed to stand, but he did so anyway, grinning as broadly as ever. Gorons didn't drink wine, so no one begrudged him for not raising a glass. "The little guy has been a huge help to us Gorons! Watching him take on an Igneo Talus all by himself, I knew he wasn't just any knight! He was Champion material from the start, and the Gorons are glad to welcome you, Prince Link!"

At least Link smiled a little in return. It might have even been genuine. But, then the real trouble began.

"Champion Mipha of the Zora, what say you?"

On the other side of King Rhoam, Princess Mipha stood. As the representative of her people, Zelda had always known Princess Mipha to be kind, affable, and never cruel to anyone. And yet, as the Zora princess raised her glass, she barely looked Link's way. The one glance she gave him was scathing, the fallout of her anger hitting Zelda square in the chest.

"Prince Link has a long history with my people, and I have cared deeply for him since he was a child," she paused. Her clawed hand formed a small fist at her side, hidden from the view of the rest of the kingdom. "The Zora welcome Prince Link." She spoke without affect and sat back down, the coolness of her disdain radiating.

Though Link didn't wince at her words, the tension in his shoulders betrayed his true feelings. Whatever conversations did, or didn't, happen between them, all issues were clearly not yet amicably resolved. And no one was more willing and ready to capitalize on that discord than the Rito Champion.

"Champion Revali of the Rito, what say you?"

Blessed Hylia, let him start squawking. No such prayer was answered, as the haughty Rito raised his glass and offered a sneer that might have been a smile, in the right light.

"The Rito have witnessed firsthand the full capabilities of the Hylian Champion," Revali began, spinning his words in a careful dance, circling around insult and praise, "Despite his origins, he has been elevated to a position of great influence. Ours prayers go with him in every quest. May he play his part dutifully in the Calamity." Not quite finished with his speech, Revali narrowed his gaze, like a hawk locking on to its prey, taking delight in the mockery and discomfort he created. "Long live Champion Link."

If the Rito's final slight was noticed by anyone else, they made no sign of anything amiss, happy enough to drink to the health of the couple and resume their merriment.

Zelda, finally, took up her own glass of wine. At least this one was prepared as she liked it, diluted and sweetened.

When Link took a sip of his, carefully at first, his brows shot up in surprise. "This isn't awful."

"Ha!" Zelda couldn't stop the laugh, though she tried to cover her mouth with her hand anyway. The sharp glare from Revali and scorn from Mipha quickly ended the mirth that had taken a brief root. Trying her best to ignore them, she kept drinking her own wine. "It's probably prepared like mine."

"Really?" He watched the wine swirl around his glass, observing it as if it were a specimen to study, an anomaly. But, then, it might have been for him. He took another careful sip, then a little more. "I'm just glad it's not that horrid stuff Agrena made us drink. Where did she find something so nasty?"

"Best guess?" Zelda tried not to grin, biting her lower lip. "The Bosphoramus vineyards."

Suddenly, the wine was much more tempting to Link, as he quickly drank as much of it as he could, not wanting to look his father-in-law in the eye and hoping that Rhoam was too involved in his conversation with Daruk to have noticed his inadvertent insult.

At least she took comfort in knowing that, however their marriage ended up, she would never be without a source of humor.

---

Three courses came and went, each one more decadent than the last, and each followed with a declaration by the nobles that the king should lend them his cooks to teach their own. The sentiments were purely polite and meaningless, spoken to fill the space and pay their dues rather than to request any such thing.

Finally, the next phase of the reception began. King Rhoam stood from the table, raised his hand, and quieted the crowd once more. "Before we begin the dance, let us encourage our newlyweds to grace us with their first dance as husband and wife."

Zelda tried not to choke on her wine, now refilled for the fourth time. Dancing. Right. She knew how to dance. But did heknow how to dance? She cast a quick look at Link, trying to gauge his comfort level with the idea. Once again, he wore the perfect mask of polite indifference. He stood from the table, thanked the king, and offered his hand to Zelda. As she let her hand rest in his, allowing him to lead her out toward the dance floor, which was really just a quickly constructed platform to keep the dancers from trampling the grass, she prayed that dancing was included in one of the many lessons that she hadn't spied on.

Hundreds of eyes watched them ascend to the elevated platform, making themselves the centerpiece of the festivities. Her hand tightened around Link's, nerves twisting her stomach as the music began. As if it weren't enough for the whole kingdom to stare at her, they had to witness the awkwardness in her reaction to Link setting his hand on her waist, the other still holding hers. Trying not to think about how warm his hand was on her, she focused on her steps, her free hand resting gently on his shoulder. Now, the real test would begin.

The music swelled, the beginning of a traditional dance. These weren't for pleasure or joy so much as a humiliating display of the dancers' skills - or lack thereof. She'd had enough practice with this particular style that she had no difficulty shutting down the part of her brain that processed just about everything else. Every step had to be perfect, every eye on her.

"Breathe," Link said softly, pulling her through the first spin and back again to his side. As he hadn't stepped on her toes yet, she felt fairly confident that he had learned something in all of his princely lessons. "You're beautiful."

A small squeak of surprise nearly escaped her, getting caught in her throat, her eyes widening. A memory of the last time he'd said that, cloaked in shadow and breathless, colored her cheeks. The dance parted them, turning and stepping around each other, then joining hands again. Beat for beat, he matched her. She imagined this must have been something like his swordplay forms, a sort of partnered dance between himself and his opponent, each matching and reacting to the steps of the other.

"Everyone's watching," Zelda whispered back as they came back together again.

"So?" Link spun her around again, leading her away and back to him once more.

The glimpse of white and red from the Champion's table made her stomach churn. If looks could kill, Zelda would have had a trident through her chest. Avian emerald watched them carefully beside the Zora princess. He sneered, leaned down toward Mipha, and whispered something that made her laugh. Zelda's cheeks heated all the more. She hadn't meant to make an enemy of them, of either of them, and now she found herself fully in their crosshairs through no intention of her own. The gods were determined to spit upon her in every way possible.

"If they see even one flaw-"

"They'll have to deal with me if they want to voice it," Link cut her off, pulling her in closer than the dance required. His palm covered the width of the Champion blue sash around her waist, almost possessively. Or, maybe she was just imagining that.

As much as she doubted his abilities to truly stem the tide of gossip, she liked the idea of it. As fiercely as he defended her from monsters and Yiga, he would stand beside her in her father's court. If anyone wanted to speak poorly about her, they wouldn't be able to do so without also insulting the prince consort and Hero Chosen by the Gods. Only two Champions were brave enough to do that, out of all of Hyrule. Maybe…this whole marriage thing wasn't all bad.

When the dance at last came to an end, the music culminating in a final return to tonality, Zelda's cheeks flushed pink for an entirely different reason than before. She took Link's hand and bowed, the assembly clapping and cheering, half in congratulations, half in celebration that the floor was now open for the rest of them to dance. They walked off the platform, making way for the many eager couples and friends who wanted a chance to demonstrate their own skills.

When they returned to their table, they found their wine glasses refilled, along with cups of clear water. Zelda forwent the wine, preferring the water to cool her down.

Not far from them, Link's family sat at a table reserved for them and the guests from his home village. Now released from the bonds of society and orders, Aryll popped out of her chair and zipped over to Link, leaning on the table and grinning brightly. "I want to dance!"

"You'll need a partner," Link observed, gesturing with his wine glass to the dancers already on the floor. "The group dances will start later."

"Who should I pick?" Aryll asked, looking around the courtyard.

Link shrugged. "You could wait for someone to ask you."

While that was possible, in so large a crowd, Aryll would have all the bad luck of a strange political position. Not quite nobility, not quite below them, either. There were few young suitors who would stand with the sister of the prince consort, as she had no land or title to offer them. And those who would have otherwise been in Aryll's circle were now too far below her to even attempt it.

A sharp elbow into Daruk's side made him start with surprise. "Huh? What?"

"You dance with her," Urbosa encouraged.

"Me?"

"Oh, please! Please dance with me, Daruk!" Aryll begged, practically hopping up over the table to plead with him. "It will be so fun! And when people see what a good dancer I am, then I'll be sure to get lots of partners!"

"Uh…" Daruk glanced over to Link, that same look in his eye that he got when approached by a Hylian retriever. A strange, awkward sort of fear. He swallowed nervously, but stood. "Yeah, alright, I'll dance with you." Stepping carefully around the table, Daruk offered his hand, nearly the whole of Aryll's height. She took it fearlessly and led him to the dance floor, laughing all the while. The poor champion looked like he was afraid of squishing her, stepping carefully and letting her hold his large hands by the fingers.

Not to be outdone, Revali made a big show of sweeping out his wings and bowing respectfully to Princess Mipha. "My lady, will your honor me with a dance?"

Raising her voice as much as she could, which was a little over a normal talking volume for the rest of Hyrule, Mipha graciously accepted, placing her hand in Revali's wing. "I would be delighted to dance with you, Master Revali."

The display of contempt and obvious jealousy had little effect on Zelda, other than making her roll her eyes. But then, it wasn't her that they primarily targeted. With every spin, whispered joke and laugh shared between them, Link grew more agitated. He tried to ignore them, directing his attention anywhere else. His jaw shifted, his shoulders tensed, and he deliberately avoided looking at the dance floor whenever possible.

Knowing what she did regarding the nature of Link's original engagement, she would have thought Link would appreciate someone else taking Mipha's attention away from him. Her confusion only increased with every moment, every sharp glare Revali sent that made Link tense up even more. Unsure of how to diffuse the situation, and certainly not willing to get very involved in the feud between the champions, Zelda redirected her attentions to Urbosa.

If anyone looked like a couple that afternoon, it was the king and chieftainess. Her father hardly ever laughed so much.

"Did you make sure to tell the cooks to take the heads off of the bass?" Urbosa asked, a teasing glint to her eye. "Wouldn't want you getting startled by a stray eye in your soup."

"It wouldn't have startled me if you hadn't slipped it in there!" The king huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Did I?" Urbosa smiled, pretending to remember something. "Oh, that might have been me. It was so long ago. My memory of your wedding is quite foggy these days."

"Foggy enough to forget about the molguga guts you tried to give us as a wedding gift?"

"Oh, no, I recall that very well," Urbosa laughed. "I had never seen you turn so green!"

Despite her teasing, King Rhoam took it in stride, chuckling. "You always had the worst pranks."

"No worse than the bokoblin incident."

Her father laughed so loudly, so abruptly, that several of the guests turned their heads to stare at him in wide-eyed wonder. "Skies, I had forgotten about that!"

"Kara Kara hasn't," Urbosa shook her head, her blue-painted lips a brighter smile than she'd had in weeks. "You and the queen are local legend. The merchants still tell horror stories about that night."

The king's laughter died down into quiet chuckling. "Did they ever find out it was us?"

"And ruin the intrigue of it all? I may have figured it out immediately, but the rest of Gerudo Town still has no idea."

Who was this man speaking with the Gerudo chief? Surely not her father! The man who laughed, recounting a prank war and inside jokes spanning back years before Zelda was born, could hardly have been the same who bound his daughter's fate to the destiny of a sacred sword. Zelda wondered at the change in him, the alteration of his character; she could not account for it. When he was the king, his only focus the Calamity and the necessity of protecting his kingdom, he never laughed.

Might this have been the father she could have had if the Calamity's breath was not hot on their necks?

---

The skies dyed a soft orange; the first stars of twilight peeked through wispy clouds; the celebration drew to an end. Enough wine and ale had been poured and consumed to drown a Hinox, and the stumbling, tired feet of the last dancers showed all of its effects. What had easily been the most dreaded day of Zelda's twenty years was nearly over - and she'd even survived it, mostly unscathed, save for the frequent injuries to her pride and the burn in her mouth from trying to eat baked cucco without waiting for it to cool down. Looking back, it did make sense that the porous bones retained heat better than the meat let on. Maybe she'd do a study on thermal conductivity, once she got feeling back in her tongue again.

Music faded, the drum beats and humming strings coming to a gentle end as the king stood once more and raised his glass. "On behalf of the Crown, I thank all of you for attending the celebration of Princess Zelda's marriage to Prince Consort Link!" The crowd cheered in response, some of the shouted congratulations slurred. A few Noble Pursuits raised in acknowledgment. "I would ask you all to join me in sending the couple off!"

At least she knew this part was coming. Handfuls of dried herbs and aromatic flowers waited on the tables around the courtyard, quickly grabbed up by the guests eager to toss them. It was not a royal tradition by any means, but it was the one tradition that Link had been allowed to integrate from his home of Hateno. Zelda couldn't say she looked forward to picking an apothecary's cupboard out of her hair later that night.

The music began anew, a jovial beat to end the night's festivities. Once again, a tunnel of sabers rose into the air, leading back into the Castle. Zelda took Link's hand, tried not to think about the possibility of one of the guards being a Yiga assassin and slicing her head off, and plastered on a polite smile. Flowers and leaves flew through the air as they walked back through the tunnel, the double doors to the Castle opening to welcome them back into the safety and quiet of its stone walls. She didn't have to turn to know who whistled when they reached the doorway — she would have words with Purah about this kind of behavior.

After giving their guests a final wave of farewell, the doors shut slowly, muffling the loud cheers and shouts of the company.

Fragrant herbs flooded her nose, almost chokingly strong. She swiped her hands over her head, trying to knock loose all of the stems and crumbling leaves. "I feel like a lamb rack ready for the oven," she complained.

"Is that how you season lamb?" Link asked, helping her pick flowers out of her hair as they walked back toward the residential wing of the Castle. "I've never made it."

"Neither have I," Zelda said. As they rounded a corner, Zelda reached up to pluck a stalk of lavender from Link's crown. "But I've watched the cooks make it." When she could breathe a little easier, she let out a sigh. "Skies, that was exhausting."

"Can't disagree with that," Link admitted, "but at least it's over."

"True," she paused, a new thought entering her brain. In all of her anxieties about the wedding and the constant stress of maintaining presentability in front of everyone in Hyrule, she hadn't much considered what would happen after the fact. Now that they were alone. And married. And walking back toward her chambers.

She glanced at Link, trying to decide whether he intended on just delivering her back to her room and then returning to his own chambers across the Castle. That would be the most logical thing for him to do, after all. He had no interest in kissing her earlier, so she would have no reason to think that he'd have any interest in-

Unless he only refused to kiss her because they were in public. He'd kissed her only once before, under the cover of night and in the shadowy alley of Castle Town. Maybe he was just waiting for an opportunity to catch her alone. Maybe his plan all along was to take her that night, to follow Sister Agrena's advice and-!

"Are you okay?"

They'd stopped at the top of the first flight of stairs, almost at the doorway to the residential wing. He was staring at her. Oh Goddess, how red was she now? She probably looked like a rock roast. And she'd already witnessed his eagerness to eat one of-

STOP IT.

"I'm fine," she answered, her voice only cracking a little; she couldn't look him in the eye. "Tired, you know?" She could feel the ghost of his hand on her waist, pulling her close during the dance. Her mind replayed the night in the alley, the music of his voice in her ear, his panting breath on her skin. How desperate she'd been to tear into him, to savor every piece of their night together, thinking then that it would be the only one. How his lips felt along her collarbone, leaving a final parting memory of their love that could never take root.

But now it could. Now they'd have every opportunity to-

"I hope you're not too tired for the surprise I've got waiting for you," he said, completely unaware of the panic that surged through Zelda's bones like lightning. "With all of the guards and staff off duty for the party, tonight is the perfect opportunity."

All her thoughts crashed into Sheikah Slate static.

Notes:

"Hey, wait, isn't Zelda supposed to be sixteen?" I think we've all known for a while that adherence to canon is optional. And in any case, I dare you to find a twenty-year-old with much more sense at that age than they did at sixteen. But as someone in her late twenties, can confirm that being twenty is much better (less biological yikes) but still I was in college and making bad, impulsive choices on the daily. And in any case, remembering that Zelda in canon is sixteen is crazy bc I'm thinking about the scene in The Little Mermaid where Ariel tells her dad that she's sixteen and not a child anymore. Like yes ma'am you are. Actual infant baby.

Anyway, that got rambley.

Chapter 20: The Surprise

Summary:

Surprise. She wasn't typically a fan of surprises, as they almost never turned out to be particuarly pleasant for her. She was surprised by a tower suddenly bursting from the ground outside of Castle Town. She was surprised by the Guardian suddenly awakening in the Breach of Demise and trying to kill them. She was surprised by the revelation that the man she'd been pining over like a fool was the very same who she was now following back to her bedchamber.

Hylia have mercy, she did not care for surprises.

Notes:

Woo! Last full week of work! Then I can devote myself full-time to writing my novel <3 I can see the finish line!

Surprise. She wasn't typically a fan of surprises, as they almost never turned out to be particuarly pleasant for her. She was surprised by a tower suddenly bursting from the ground outside of Castle Town. She was surprised by the Guardian suddenly awakening in the Breach of Demise and trying to kill them. She was surprised by the revelation that the man she'd been pining over like a fool was the very same who she was now following back to her bedchamber.

Hylia have mercy, she did not care for surprises.

Many thoughts ran through her head, each more uncertain than the last. She didn't even know what she wanted it to be. Maybe he had gotten her a baby goat! A real baby goat! Yes, that would be very acceptable and not at all terrifying. He had bought her a baby goat and it is in her room right now, chewing on all of her novels.

Her novels. Paper-bound stories of things that were perfectly fine in fiction, distant and laughably exaggerated. She was sure that the descriptions were hyperbole. There was no way Hylian anatomy really worked like that. And real people didn't behave in such outlandish ways. Link, especially, would never behave in such a way. To grab her by the wrists, pin her against the door, growl and bite like a starving animal, declare that she belonged to him and no other-

She blinked rapidly, shoving that thought as far from her head as she possibly could. This was Link. Her knight, her friend, the man who carried her across the sands and parried a Guardian's blast and fought lynels and kissed her in the dark and held her close to his chest and-

They rounded the corner, the final corridor coming into view. At the end of the hall, her door was on the right. He hadn't stopped, or called off the joke, or told her what the surprise was. After all, it wouldn't be a surprise if he did that, now would it?

He was going to…um…give her a bouquet of Silent Princesses to put in her study! She would love such a gift, as lovely as the ones she left on Hylia's altar. She would thank him politely, sincerely for the thought he put into it, for thinking of her and listening to what she thought was important. He would laugh and tell her that everything she did was important, and that he would cut down anyone who dared to suggest otherwise. He would tell her that she was the most important person in his life, close the door behind them, and-

No, no! It had to be something else! Anything else! Because if she kept thinking about the way that dried herbs clung to his hair, how nice it would be to comb her fingers through it and pull out lavender petals, to snatch his crown from his head and yank him down to her bed and-

GOOD GODDESS, ZELDA.

By the time they reached her door, Zelda hardly understood a word he said. It took far too long for the words to register in her thoughts.

"Are you ready?"

Ready. Ready. Ready for what?! She scanned over his face, searching his eyes for any indication of what he had planned behind the door for them. For her. She swallowed, nodded, and held her breath.

She swore that the door handle had never turned so slow. Her entire body felt like she'd stood too close to Urbosa's lightning, static tingling over her skin. Her quickened pulse was obvious enough to her, nearly making her dizzy; could he feel it through her palm?

The door opened, Zelda hardly daring to breathe as she caught sight of:

Impa.

"Surprise!" Impa waved her hands, grinning as brightly as the fireworks that had just started outside of the window. "Bet you didn't expect to see me!"

An error message flickered across Zelda's brain. A circuit misfired, the current sparking where it shouldn't. "N-no. Definitely…not." She'd deliberately avoided these sorts of novels.

Link did, indeed, shut the door quickly behind them. "I had Impa pack up your things and get them ready to go. I wasn't sure what you needed, and since Impa's been traveling with you for longer than I have, I thought she would know best."

"T-traveling? Pack?" She repeated, trying to comprehend the complete switch of her thoughts over to something that made, somehow, even less sense that what she had been thinking earlier. She got her thoughts to line up into a coherent sentence right around the time that Impa had grabbed her wrist. "I'm sorry, what's going on?"

"We're leaving the Castle," Link answered. He took off his own crown and brushed the remaining herbs from his own hair. "No one is going to be on duty tonight, at least not outside of your door. I made sure of that when I checked the guard rotations this morning. If all goes well, we'll be safely in Mabe Village by the time anyone even thinks to check on us."

"And that's where I come in," Impa teased, pulling Zelda behind a dividing screen. "I'm staying here in your stead and making sure no one comes by to discover that you two are missing."

From the other side of the screen, fabric rustled and plopped onto the floor. Zelda's face burned scarlet, catching a glimpse of royal silk on the other side of her bedroom floor. "Is- is he undressing?!" Zelda whispered, trying to keep the squeak out of her voice.

"Yeah, and you should be, too." Impa gestured for Zelda to turn. Her brain working too slow - completely fried, really - Zelda obeyed without question. The bodice of her gown loosened as Impa quickly undid the ribbons. "Hyrule is bound to notice the princess and prince running around in the night, but nobody is going to look twice as a couple of Castletowners." Zelda's crown lifted from her head, set gently on the small table, beside a common set of traveling clothes. Piece by piece, Zelda's jewels and silks fell away. She didn't have long to dwell on the thought that she was standing in her undergarments not ten feet from Link, who was probably in much the same state, as Impa helped her dress quickly in the outfit she'd set aside. Technically, she didn't need Impa's help to put on linen trousers and a tunic. Such clothing was designed so that it could be put on without the assistannce of servants. But, with her hands as befuddled as her mind, she gratefully accepted the help.

When the transformation was complete, a princess's shell laid in disparate pieces on her low table, her gown tossed over the back of her chaise. Her tiara glinted at her, the scant candlelight flickering in the ruby flower. She felt herself instinctually lean toward it, but she stopped before her hand could reach out. The rest of her disguise would do no good if she negated it all by wearing the most prominent symbol of her rank.

As she stepped out from behind the screen, Impa picked up the jewels and set each carefully into the box from her vanity. "Check to make sure that's everything you need before you go," Impa suggested, examining the branch-pin closely. "The other one is still with Aryll, right?"

"As far as I know," Link replied, tightening the straps on his bracers. Leather bracers, well-fitted and new. In the dark, no one would be able to make out the subtle details, the Triforce and the crest of the royal family displayed valiantly on his armor. And, with the dark cloak tossed over his shoulders, all indication of his rank and identity disappeared into the shadows.

And, she supposed, to the shadows is where they would go.

Everything appeared to be in order in Zelda's travel bag, much the same items and equipment that she'd carried in her knapsack on their journeys to visit and recruit the Champions. Her finer clothes were neatly folded and rolled into tight bundles. And, she noted, the Sheikah Slate was tucked securely between sets of clothing.

"Mabe Village?" Zelda asked, slinging the pack onto her shoulder. "Why Mabe?"

Link mirrored her, giving a final check to his outfit and equipment. Unlike her, he hadn't bothered to set his wedding clothes aside gently, instead having kicked them into a crumpled pile under her bed. She…she would not think about his clothes being under her bed! Oh, he was talking. "It was the closest place I could think of that we could get to quickly and that probably wouldn't recognize us." He adjusted the strap of his bag, tightening it over the cloak. "Castle Town knows our faces, but we don't usually go to Mabe. It's mostly dairies and apiaries over there anyway." When he at last determined that everything was secured to his liking, he offered his hand. The memory of a white glove surfaced. "Ready to go?"

She willed her hand to stop shaking. Her hand connected with his, a circuit closing.

---

Shadows and alleyways shrouded them. Not that they needed the help tonight. Unlike that night, what felt like a lifetime ago, they weren't bright targets. Rumbling fireworks lit up the sky, sending flashes of pink and green over the cobblestone streets of Castle Town. Rather than wandering endlessly, trying to waste as much time as possible in each other's company, they moved through the city with haste and direction. The sounds of the night were different in Castle Town - voices, clanking pots and dishes from the backdoor of a tavern, the clunking of a cart rolling along the road. Beyond the walls, crickets chirped and firelies flashed. Beyond the walls, so close now, they could sneak away unseen.

They just had to get through the walls.

They slowed their pace as they approached the gate out of the city. Fireworks reflected on the helmets of the guards. Most paid Zelda little mind, watching the celebration from across the city.

"Heading out?" An older guard asked, his dark mustache twitching like a startled caterpillar when he spoke. "Not going to stick around for the fireworks? The finale is the best part."

Zelda started to open her mouth to answer them, but Link quickly squeezed her hand. She bit her tongue, rethinking the idea. The accent of nobility would be easy enough to pick out. And while she was sure she could adopt another dialect if she really tried, practicing on a guard who could sound the alarm and alert the whole Hyrulean army to their escape was perhaps not her best move.

"Rooflines are too tall," Link replied easily. Unlike her, he sounded like any other soldier in the army — unrefined, with a slight drawl. "We'll see it better from the fields."

The guard gave Link a quick look up and down. The armor and wrapped hilt of the Master Sword were not exactly easy to hide. The guard narrowed his eyes, frowning. Zelda's heartrate spiked, her breath stuck in her chest. They'd be found out. They'd be caught and returned to her father and the whole court would know that they were running from her father's orders and she'd be the laughingstock of all of Hyrule and-

"So you heard the rumors, too?" The guard grunted, jerking his head toward the gate, so near. "There's monsters out there that are all kinds of vicious. We've been given orders to keep an eye on Hyrule Field, ever since that moblin showed up last week, all cloaked in fire. They say more of those things have been spotted all over Hyrule."

Reaching back, Link patted the hilt of the Master Sword, bound in leather straps to keep the signature violet hilt hidden. "That's why I've got this."

"Hm," the guard stepped back toward the gate and unlocked the small door beside it. "Holler if you see anything odd."

Zelda didn't dare to breathe until they were safely on the other side of the wall. When the door locked behind them, Castle Town secured behind a wall of stone and a gate of iron, she let out a long sigh. "I thought they would have caught on."

"Thank Hylia they didn't," Link agreed.

Hyrule Field stretched out before them. Trees and farms, grasslands and the distant rising mountains. The road from the south gate would take them straight to Mabe. Had she thought about it, she might have brought a couple horses — no, that wouldn't have worked either. Storm's tack was far too recognizable. A snow-white stallion wasn't exactly the sort of average mount that a common traveler would ride.

Well, walking would do them some good. It was only an hour at most.

Thundering explosions shook the sky, far louder and in closer succession than before. Zelda turned, her eyes widening at the sight. Bursts of color and light, stars shot straight up into the sky, burned bright, and exploded in a brilliant display. Flowers, comets, concentric circles of red, green, blue, pink, yellow, white. One after the other, rapidly shooting high into the stars, sparkling remnants floating down onto the Castle roof.

Link's fingers laced with hers.

"The finale is the best part," Zelda breathed, mezmerized by the beautiful, percussive display. This far out, the bombs didn't thunder in her chest. Her ears didn't ring. She watched the fireworks compete for lumiesence, each growing brighter until one surpassed them all. Three golden triangles exploded over the Castle, lighting up the night sky with the glory of the Triforce.

Somewhere, under the falling, glittering sparks, their families cheered and celebrated. The courtiers and gossiping nobles were likely making jokes and comments about the proceedings of the day, and what it would mean for them if the king's gamble worked.

But, all of that was on the other side of the wall. The last of the lights twinkled away, leaving only the natural splendor of the stars. She took a breath. "Alright, let us move on."

---

An hour's time was more or less accurate, as it turned out. They had to dodge around a patrol searching for monsters, keeping their hoods down to stay hidden among the trees and bushes along the road.

Flickering candlelight greeted them from short, square windows. Mabe had no walls. Mabe had very little worth stealing, and so had little worth protecting. Most of the shops were long-closed by the time they reached the village, and many of the residents were already asleep. But that suited Zelda just fine. They only needed one business to remain open, at least for a little while longer.

A painted horse galloped across the sign of the tavern, its back legs kicking out. A bell jingled as they pushed open the door. It was not the grand, stone chambers of the Castle, or the comfortable fabric and frame of a stable. The Frolicking Foal was more of a place to drink and gather than to stay, with tables close together and a crackling fire in the hearth. The few patrons who remained at this time of night paid Link little mind, glancing back at the door as it opened, then returning to their cards and ale.

"One moment!" A warm, feminine voice called from the back. Carrying two trays laden with mugs, a red-haired woman stepped into the main room. She set the trays down beside the cardplayers' table, and passed out another round of drinks to all of them. The most recent winner took a rupee from his pile and handed it to the barmaid, which she quickly tucked into the purse tied to her yellow waist-sash. She picked up the now-empty trays and tucked them under one arm before turning toward the newest guests. Strong, firm muscles flexed as she adjusted her grip on the wooden trays. "Can I get you all anything? We're out of whiskey for the night, but we've plenty of ale and bread."

Link pushed his cloak hood back, showing his face in the warm orange light. "Actually, I've arranged a room here. I'm Ravio, and this is my wife, Hilda."

The barmaid's eyes lit up. "Oh, yes, the newlyweds! I believe you put down half the payment already?" She waved them over to follow her to the bar. She flipped open a ledger, ran her red-tipped finger down the lines, and tapped triumphantly against the page. "Yep, got it right here. Twenty rupees down, the rest on arrival."

Link dug into his pocket, taking out a single red rupee and handing it over to her. "Thank you for keeping it reserved."

The barmaid smiled, tucking this rupee among many others. "Glad to. It's not everyday I get to host newlyweds. Congratulations, you two! And on the day of the princess's wedding, no less. Very lucky!" She grabbed a key from under the counter and handed it to Link. "Second door on your right, up those stairs there. Let me know if you need anything, ya hear?"

Suddenly, the game held less interest for the players. Zelda kept the hood of her cloak up, trying to hide her face from them. Did they recognize her? Were they Yiga spies? Why were they staring at her?! She followed quickly behind Link, eager to get upstairs and behind a locked door as soon as possible.

"Ravio, was it?" One of the cardplayers raised his ale mug, acknowldging Link as they passed by.

Link only nodded in reply. His hand in hers tensed.

The players exchanged a quick smirk with each other. "We'd offer you spot at the table, but it looks like you haven't finished the day's ploughin'."

Their laughter was nearly as intense as the scarlet burn across Zelda's cheeks. Link brought Zelda to the far side, placing himself between her and the laughing patrons, his face a stoic mask.

"Burwar, you watch your tongue!" The barmaid snapped. "And you wonder why women don't like you."

A chorus of laughter began anew, the players now heckling a new target.

"Come on, Malon!" Burwar's whining voice carried up the stairs behind them. "I was only making a joke!"

When Link clicked the lock behind them, Zelda finally felt the tension in her shoulders fall. All the exhaustion of the day hit at once, dragging her limbs down and drooping her eyes. Though the room was not particuarly comfortable, at least there was a bed she could drag herself into.

A bed.

One bed.

"Have the hero and princess share a bed," Revali's mocking voice echoed in her head. "They're practially married anyway."

There was no practically about it now.

If the situation was at all concerning to Link, he made no sign of it. He plopped his bag onto the small table in the corner of the room, beside a wine bottle and two empty glasses.

Zelda slipped her bag off of her shoulder, setting it down on the floor. There wasn't much she actually needed. She could sleep well enough in the traveling clothes, and they'd only worn them for an hour, so they hadn't gotten terribly dirty. She slipped off her boots, the worst of the dust still clinging to the leather. She'd have to clean them at some point. They weren't her typical boots. These did not bear the tell-tale image of the Triforce. Every sign of the princess she was had to be stripped away if they were to blend in, even for a night. And then, in the morning…

"Where are we going from here?" Zelda asked, surprising herself that she hadn't thought to ask earlier. "We've gotten out of the Castle, but you haven't said where you intend to take me."

The Master Sword rested against the wall beside a simple wooden shield. The ornate blue and red that he'd been gifted upon his triumphant return from the Lost Woods had been left back at the Castle, probably locked away in his chambers. Link shrugged, untying the cloak from his shoulders and draping it over the back of a wooden chair. "Wherever you want to go."

She stared at him, trying to uncover the truth of his words. "What do you mean?"

He plopped onto the chair beside the table and yanked his boots off. "I mean we can go anywhere. We have at least another day until your father starts looking for you. Wherever you want to go is fine by me."

Wherever she wanted to go…The idea was certainly tempting. There were many places she could think of. Gerudo Town would be an obvious choice, if her goal was to remain hidden from her father. Link couldn't join her there, though. There was Lurelin, and the forests of Faron. There was a lot of woods to get lost in, and a lot of ruins to explore. She could find any number of relics, just waiting to be uncovered. The only problem was the lack of any real settlements to stay in. Beyond Lurelin Village, most of the thick jungles were completely wild. Not exactly a long-term location.

Across the room, the wine cork popped open. Link poured some of the bright red liquid into a glass, gave it a curious sniff, and took a sip. He frowned a little, shrugged, and kept drinking it. This was not a ringing endorsement, as she'd seen him eat a whole rock roast with gusto.

She could go to Hateno. There would be friendly faces to hide her there. His family was kind enough, and she would like to see where he grew up. He didn't talk much about it, and didn't speak highly of it when he did, but still. There was some merit to a small farming village — much like Mabe, she imagined wide open pastures and lively farmers.

"What are we going to tell my father?" She asked, still puzzling over their destination. "He's going to learn soon enough that we are not in the Castle, and then we'll get the whole army sent after us."

"Ah, I already thought of that," he replied with a grin. "Your dad mentioned the springs around Hyrule being places of holiness. I was going to tell him that we were going on a pilgrimage."

"A pilgrimage," Zelda repeated, unsure about the believability of such a fib. "He might believe such a thing. The whole purpose of this…endeavor," she tried not to cringe at the phrasing, "was to help me unlock my divine powers."

"Exactly," Link nodded, pouring a second glass. Evidently, it tasted better on a second pour. "I figured your dad wouldn't put up too much of a fuss if I told him that we were going around praying at the springs."

A slight grin turned the corner of Zelda's lips. "That is incredibly devious of you, Sir Link." She crossed the small space of the room and took a seat across from him at the table, barely big enough for one of them.

"That's Prince Link now, I believe," he teased, pouring a glass for her as well. "And thank you."

She would have to settle for knowing what the wine tasted like through her own glass, no matter how badly she wanted to taste it on him. She imagined it must have been sweeter on his lips, as she found it a little too dry for her taste. It wasn't the sweet wine she preferred, but it wasn't the horrid, earthy swill that Agrena gave them. It tasted like fruit and oak, and each sip made her like it a little more. "You're welcome," she laughed softly, "Ah, I admit I am having quite the difficult time deciding where we ought to go."

Red wine swirled around Link's glass, his conteplative reflection distorted. "I don't want to tell you where you ought to go, but would it help if I told you where I thought you would pick?"

Now this should be interesting! She leaned in curiously. "Go on, then. Where do you think I would want to go?"

The wine had finally started to catch up to him, his cheeks dusting pink as he subtly leaned back. "Ah, the Ancient Tech Lab," he answered. "Based on the conversation we had last night. You seemed pretty eager to work on your research."

Zelda's brows shot up in surprise. "You know that is the first place my father will look for me."

"Yeah, probably," Link frowned. "If that's not where you want to go-"

"I didn't say that."

Now that he had given her the idea, it sounded like the only logical choice. It was one thing to try to escape her father for as long as possible, but what good would that do for Hyrule in the meantime? She could actually go on a pilgrimage to the three springs, but given the ineffectiveness of the waters on her in the Castle spring, she doubted it would do much for her to be in the real springs. But, if she spent her time assisting with the research at the Ancient Tech Lab, at least she could do something useful with her time until they were ultimately found out and dragged back to the Castle to face the king's ire.

She finished off her first glass and held it out again for Link to refill. "I think that is a wonderful idea," she decided. "We will go to the laboratory."

Link's smile could have lit up the night sky with its brilliance. The fireworks couldn't hope to compete. "Good. We can leave first thing in the morning." He filled up Zelda's glass, then grabbed the cork.

"Don't cork it yet!" Zelda waved his hand away from the bottle. "It is not even midnight!"

The amused look Link gave her made her blush. Nevertheless, he set the cork back down. "Very well, Your Highness. Far be it from me to deny you anything."

Rather than let her mind wander where it wished to upon hearing such a statement, she instead continued sipping her wine.

It was still well-before midnight when the bottle finally ran dry.

Laughter colored their faces pink, recounting the ridiculousness of the events that had taken place over the last several weeks. Link nearly spat his wine out at her description of Urbosa's repeated zapping of Revali, and the Rito Champion always being taken by surprise. Likewise, Zelda could hardly believe the intensity of the crash course that Link went through to learn everything from ettiquete to diplomacy. How could her father possibly expect Link to retain any of that?

"Goddess, the worst part was Sister Agrena," Zelda finished off the rest of her wine and set the glass on the table beside the empty bottle. "She'd actually suggested that I couldn't unlock my powers!"

Link had finished his a while ago, content to laugh with her, leaning on his hand. "Is that any different from anybody else?"

"Her reason was," Zelda huffed, her thoughts spilling out before her cognition caught up to them. "She is under the impression that I was destined from birth to be a failure by not inheriting Hylia's divinity."

Snorting in disbelief, Link shook his head. "What a bitch."

"I know! If I wasn't good enough from the start, why bother with all the rituals and prayers?" Zelda tapped her manicured nails on the side of her wine glass. "Utter nonsense. Of course I inheited the golden drop. There has never been a princess that hasn't."

"It would be a serious problem if you didn't," Link agreed. "Hyrule would be completely fucked if your family lost their connection to the Goddess."

"…Indeed," Zelda said, thinking back on the solution that Agrena had come up with to resolve that very issue. The blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero, a transfer of divine favor. A usefulness only as an incubator for a princess who the goddess wouldn't reject. The thought was too humiliating to dwell on.

Outside their window, the clock rang the hour. Eleven tolls followed.

Not quite midnight, yet the draw of sleep was too strong to be resisted much longer. Zelda stood and stretched her arms over her head. "Well, we should probably get some rest, if we are going all the way to the Tech Lab tomorrow." She offered a cheeky grin. "We will want to be as prepared as possible if another Guardian tries to attack us."

Her teasing had the intended effect of making Link shudder. "Goddess, don't tempt fate like that."

Zelda laughed, walking over to the bed. "I am only joking," she assured him. "It will be two Guardians."

"Zel!"

Another fit of laughter overtook them both, finally dying down when Zelda finished braiding up her hair, as she had no desire to spend any extra time in the morning combing it out — especially given the shimmering product that had been dusted all over her that morning. She pulled back the covers and started to climb into bed when Link spoke again.

"Toss me the extra pillow."

Zelda paused, taking a moment to register what he meant by that. The wine muddied her thoughts too much for her liking. "Do you intend to sleep on the floor?"

Link gestured around the room. "Unless you see a second bed in here somewhere."

Perhaps he would blame the redness in her cheeks on the four glasses she'd had that evening. She scooted back in the bed and patted the pillow next to her. "Don't be ridiculous. We can share."

Electric blue had never paired so well with crimson. His lips moved, though words didn't come out right away, fumbling over his speech. "Are- are you sure? I really don't mind-"

"Oh no, my husband is sharing a bed with me," Zelda rolled her eyes, "Whatever will the gossipmongers think? Shall we tell the press?" Zelda held out her hand toward him. "There is room enough for the both of us. Don't sleep on the floor."

She hadn't meant it as an order, though if he wanted to take it that way, she wouldn't discourage him. He complied without much further hesitation, taking her hand and letting her guide him into bed. In her novels, this would be the start of an earmarked chapter. The heroine grabs her lover and yanks him on top of her. Passionate declarations punctuate every kiss and caress. If she didn't know the characters' names by the start of the chapter, she certainly knew them by the end. Part of her wondered whether that was simply filler for an uncreative author, or if there was any merit to the narration that 'all thoughts flew from her mind; only his name remained.'

The tips of her ears burned as Link settled beside her, more tension than rest. Hardly novel-worthy, but at least he wasn't going to sleep on the floor, and that was a start. And though she couldn't muster up any of the courage that a novel's heroine possessed, she could make her own declaration, once she decided upon it.

She leaned over to the candle by the bed and quickly blew it out. Only the silver light of the moon through the window remained. Scant moonlight allowed little visibility, but his electric blue eyes still gleamed, watching her settle back beside him.

For a moment, she hardly dared to breathe, suddenly feeling herself immensely foolish. She'd had some idea, exaggerated and ridiculous as it was, of what she ought to be doing. But, should she?

The desire to kiss him was almost overwhelming, fighting against the tiredness in her bones and mind. She could kiss him, and most likely fall asleep before much more came from it.

Still, something had to be said, even if it was ridiculous. She bit her lower lip, trying not to completely lose herself in the soft ocean of his eyes, the slightly nervous way he searched her own. Something must be said, and so she decided on: "Thank you."

Her words elicited a strange reaction — a smile, confused. "For not sleeping on the floor?"

Heat dusted over her cheeks. She tugged up her side of the blanket, trying to hide the worst of the blush. "Yes, that. But…" She took a steadying breath. "For everything. For making the worst day of my life not as terrible as I thought it'd be."

"Heh," Link laughed softly, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes. "Not as terrible as you thought it'd be. I've always dreamed of hearing a girl say that." At Zelda's scandalized, choking gasp, he grinned at her. "I'm kidding." In jest or not, when his hand brushed her hair out of her face, her whole body ignited at once. "I know it's not what either of us would have wanted, but I'm glad I pulled the sword from the Lost Woods."

Zelda's heart hammered in her chest, her eyes searching his face for the meaning behind his words. He was glad. But he didn't want to marry her. And he thought she didn't want to marry him? Her thoughts tumbled together in her too-tired mind, trying to make sense of the way he said one thing with his voice and another with the brush of his calloused thumb over her cheek.

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

For a moment, she thought he would, his gaze flicking briefly to her lips. But he drew his hand away, letting it fall onto the empty space between them. "We should get some sleep. We've got a long way to go come morning."

Her rapid heartheat thudded hollow in her chest. "R-right." She curled in on herself, trying not to take all the blankets with her. He'd probably not think fondly of her for that. "Goodnight, Link."

If she didn't know any better, she might have read more than exhaustion into his sigh. "Goodnight, Zelda."

Hardly the wedding night her novels depicted. But, all things considered, not the worst way it could turn out. They'd be on the road in the morning, and on to the next chapter in their lives.

Chapter 21: If You Could Go Anywhere

Summary:

Now that they've escaped the castle and King Rhoam's attention, Princess Zelda is eager to get to the safety and secrecy of the Ancient Tech Lab.

Notes:

Last update before my hard-earned sabbatical. I was in the trenches for a year at Legal Aid, dealing with everything from shitty landlords to abusive exes to predatory loansharks. It was definitely a wild ride for sure, and I don't regret doing it — but holy shit I'm ready to do something else. And until something really nice comes along, I'm going to throw all I have into writing, and viciously protecting my peace and autonomy.

Maybe I'm projecting on Zelda a little. It's possible. Maybe running away from my problems is super tempting.

The sun rose slowly over the first day of the rest of Zelda's life.

Pink light crept into the room through check-patterned curtains. Cows lowed, cuccos crowed, and the sounds of work in the farming village were already underway. The world outside was so different than the one inside the Castle. And, as she sank further into the warmth and comfort of the morning, she thought that maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad thing to have been born anything but a princess.

Something shifted beside her. Blinking blearly, the world came into focus — and narrowed.

His sandy hair sprawled out on the pillow beside her. His chest rose and fell steadily, each breath like the rhythmic crashing of a wave on the shoreline. The longer she watched him, the more she thought of Lurelin — the pinker her cheeks became.

Still, it was only a fantasy. The closest she would ever get is…

His heart beat steady against her palm, slower than the racing pulse in her own veins. Some part of her expected him to start or flinch at her touch, the ever-vigilant knight jumping at the first sign of anything amiss. But, for whatever reason, he didn't. His body was warm from sleep, and she could feel the swell of each breath he took. It was almost enough to lure her back to sleep.

She imagined what it might be like, if this were a marriage of love rather than duty. If she married him because she loved him, and he loved her in return, she might not have had to settle for barely daring to reach out to him. She might have woken up in his arms. She might have kissed him good morning and rolled on top of him and laughed when he said that he couldn't get out of bed with her pinning him down like that. If he loved her, she wouldn't have had to wipe away the tear that escaped as she drew back her hand, then turned away.

By the time Zelda awoke again, Link was already dressed. He cinched his belt around his waist, his armor on the table.

Yawning, Zelda pushed herself up in bed, stretching her arms. The bed wasn't quite so warm. The mattress still dipped where he had been.

"Morning, Zel," Link greeted, taking a seat to tug on his boots.

"Good morning, Link," Zelda replied, her voice thick and gravelly with lingering sleep.

Electric blue flickered toward her, and the slightest upturn of his mouth made her blush. But, he said nothing, taking up one bracer to buckle into place. Lightning struck, sent skittering sparks through her blood, and faded back again.

Zelda coughed to clear her throat. "Are we-?" She coughed again, forcing her usual voice out. "Are we going to head out immediately?"

"We can," Link replied, grabbing his second bracer. "I was going to get some breakfast for us downstairs, but if you'd rather leave immediately-"

Her growling stomach made the decision for her, and made the slight smile on his face brighten in amusement. She pulled her knees up to her chest. "…Breakfast sounds lovely."

In another life, he might have kissed her before going downstairs. Yet, in this life, he only left her to dress while he went to order breakfast for them. Not that she didn't like eggs and bread.

There wasn't much more she had to put on, as the traveling clothes she wore were comfortable enough for her to sleep in. But when she caught sight of her nest of hair in the mirror, she nearly fainted at the realization that he saw her like that. The braids did a decent enough job of keeping the worst of her tangles at bay, but the frizz created by the vestiges of royal products made her look like the poor tomcat that got too close to the generator at the laboratory, all puffed up and sparking, running at top speed away from the terrible static monster that bit him. At least when they were traveling before, she always had a chance to make herself presentable before her appointed knight approached her.

By the time he returned, she had almost finished combing through her hair. She tried not to think about how she had helped him put on his armor before, and what his muscles felt like against the palm of her hand.

He packed up the rest of their things and slung his bag over his shoulder, wincing slightly. He was about to grab hers as well when she reached for it. In her novels, their hands might have touched, and a spark might have ignited. But this wasn't a novel, and she picked up her own bag, and followed him downstairs.

A steaming pot of herbal tea, a half loaf of bread, and two plates of scrambled eggs waited for them. The tavern had changed its patronage in the daylight, now crowded with travelers, some of them pretending to be awake as they took long sips of bracing tea. Whatever journeys awaited them all, Zelda felt a kinship with them in this matter; she also hated the grogginess of an early morning.

Malon brough over two cups for their tea when they sat down at a small table by the smoldering fireplace. "Good morning!" She chirped, far more awake than everyone else in her establishment. Then again, she'd probably been up for hours at that point, if the fresh bread were any indication. "How did you like the accommodations?"

If Zelda could have strung three words together, she might have answered. But, thankfully, Link saved her from having to make any coherent comment, and let her pour a cup of tea without having to pretend to be a respectable person for a few more minutes.

"It was very comfortable, thank you," Link answered. He tore off a chunk of the bread between them, leaving the larger portion for Zelda — not that she would eat all that. "The wine was very good. Where was it grown?"

Compliments would get them anywhere, it seemed. Malon's eyes sparkled with delight at Link's words. "It's a local blend, actually! Right here in Central Hyrule; the Passeri vineyards aren't too far from here. If you're heading west, you might can pick up a bottle directly from the source."

At this, Link raised his brow at Zelda, though she could hardly tell for what. She'd never say no to wine if it was any good.

"Oy, Malon!" Another patron called from the bar, raising his cup. "Got anything stronger than tea?"

"I've got coffee, but it's double the price," she replied. She tapped the table and gave Link a quick grin. "Let me know if you need anything else, honey."

Zelda sipped her tea slowly. She could have called Link 'honey'. She took another sip, scrunching her nose a little at the slightly bitter steam. No, honey is too generic.

"What?"

Zelda blinked, realizing she had spoken her thoughts aloud. "O-oh! Sorry, I just- um," she stammered, "I was just thinking about how common of an endearment that is. Not very creative, you know?"

The way Link's expression softened, a pitying sort of smile, like he didn't believe her in the slightest, made her blush harder. "I like it. A classic." He took a bite of his bread chunk, chewing thoughtfully. "But I'm curious now. What would you use?"

Zelda nearly choked on her tea. She coughed, her face flushing. "Me? For you?"

"If you'd like," Link's grin brightened, "but in general. I'm sure there must be some that are more common around-" he paused, glanced around, and lowered his voice, "-your social circle."

She briefly considered what might have ensued if he let it slip that they were royalty, or even of the gentility. That would hardly be fitting for a comely establishment like the one they found themselves in. "Well," she thought, "my mother called me 'little bird', though I don't suppose that's exactly what you meant." She took a slow sip of tea, careful not to choke on it this time. "There is all manner of flowery language used. 'My heart's root' is one I heard a lot a few years back, but it has fallen a bit out of fashion. 'Peerless paramour' had a season of popularity. I thought it was a little silly, personally."

Link snorted, shaking his head. "'Peerless paramour?' That sounds like something someone would call their mistress."

"I thought the same!" Zelda agreed, laughing a little as well. "Right up there with 'lover'. It makes it sound like it's some clandestine affair."

"Maybe it is," Link suggested, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made Zelda almost spit out her tea.

She very deliberately set the tea down before trying to speak again. "What about you? What are some endearments in Hateno?"

"Hm," Link leaned back in his chair, thinking. "My father calls my mom 'blossom', which is fine and all, but I'd never use it. It'd feel weird to call anyone that." He closed his eyes, titling his head as if trying to remember something. "'Lamb' is popular. I like that one better."

"'Lamb' isn't exactly something one might call a male partner," Zelda pointed out.

"Am I not lamb-worthy?" Link laughed, a peek of blue sending shocks down her spine.

Zelda was about to answer that 'lamb' was, admittedly, not the first descriptor she would use, when a sudden thought hit her. "Oh! I left the lamb back at the-!" She shut her mouth quickly, clapping her hand over it to stop herself from saying anything too revealing.

"Did you?" Link frowned, crossing his arms. "Well, we can't exactly go back to get it."

"No," Zelda agreed, a little sadly. After all the work he put into it, she could hardly believe her carelessness in forgetting to take it along with them. The thought saddened her, perhaps more than it should have, of the patchy little creature slumped over on her bed, forgotten.

Link raised his hand. "Hey, Malon! When does the post come by here?"

Having just finished cleaning up a table, Malon shook out a rag in her hand, thinking. "Usually 'round nine."

Link dug into his bag, taking out his rupee pouch. "Got any paper?"

---

It was an awfully risky move, Zelda thought, to write a letter to Impa telling her where to send the scraggly little beast. It was an equally risky move to write a letter to the king, telling him of the supposed pilgrimage. If either letter ended up in the wrong hands, disaster could soon follow. Zelda would just pray that the postman deserved the confidence Link had in him.

The road to the Ancient Tech Lab would have taken them too close to Castle Town for their comfort, and as there was not a road more direct than the one that circled by the Garrison, they settled for walking through the Passeri Greenbelt.

Not long ago, this place was festering with monsters. Cannon blasts marked the landscape like pockmarks, lead spheres sitting in the center of craters grown over with new grass. This place had marked the turning point of Link's life. In the middle of a battle to clear the monsters from Hyrule Field, a chance meeting with Impa, and the mysterious little Guardian, had completely altered the course of their stories. And, as Zelda walked beside him toward the laboratory, she couldn't help but wonder whether he would have run the other way, had he known what catching the Sheikah Slate would eventually lead him to. Had he known that accompanying Impa to deliver the Slate and Guardian, that refusing to yield to her command to hand the Guardian over, would lead him to the Master Sword, to betraying Mipha, to completely uprooting his life and ripping him away from his family…would he have done it?

She shielded her eyes from the brightness of the midday sun and robin's egg blue sky, dotted with wispy clouds. To the south, the Sheikah Tower, as it had come to be called, nearly scraped the clouds at the top of its spire. The purpose of the tower was not yet known. It was certainly imposing to look at, lit up in the same orange fire as all the technology they'd awakened thus far. Cracked stone surrounded the perimeter of the tower, which rose in a grand earthquake from the center of a monster-infested fort. What had once been built for their defense quickly became a den of gnashing fangs, the soldiers chased out and retreating to the walls of Castle Town, at least until the grand battle when this tower emerged. Before all of this, the war with the monsters had seemed a slow loss, attrition no longer on their side. A Hylian life lost on the battlefield would stay lost, and the people would mourn. Monsters were raised again. Monsters trampled each other uncaringly. Hyrule was struggling against a virus — something not quite alive, but consuming all the same.

Until Link, the war would have been entirely lost even before the Calamity had a chance to rear its ugly head.

Zelda considered him a moment. Sweat dampened his hair and glistened on his forehead. The buckles on his armor clinked as they walked west. His determined eyes, radiant blue, stayed focused on a destination beyond their sight. They hadn't said anything in the last hour, falling into an easy silence, broken only by the occassional comment regarding something along their path: a herd of wild horses, an apple tree laden with fruit for a quick snack, a hot-footed frog springing up from the tall grass to avoid being trampled by the clumsy giants. Did he know how much of all of Hyrule depended on him? Did he know how much she depended on him? His fingers poked out of his archery gloves, his palms covered by dark leather to prevent the worsening of callouses that built up more by the day. It had been so simple to take his hand, before.

He was her anomaly. The whole kingdom was supposed to hinge on her sealing powers awakening. Yet, it did not. The burden of Hyrule rested on his shoulders just as heavily. If he regretted leaving Zora's Domain for the Central Hyrulean Army, he'd never said it. But still she wondered. She wondered how he bested soldiers and generals twice his age. She wondered how time seemed to slow for him when he dodged out of the way of an enemy's fatal blow, how he struck back tenfold in only a second. She wondered if he ever thought about the way he had kissed her that night. But then, was she remembering that right?

Idly, she tapped her lips, the world of grass and trees ahead of her blurring as she recalled the details of the shadow they'd hidden themselves in. He hadn't kissed her — she kissed him, a detail she wasn't sure mattered all that much at the time, as he was more than enthusiastic about it. He didn't kiss her on any of their journeys. He never told her that he loved her. He stood outside of her bedroom door because he couldn't sleep. Now they knew why. But all the same, if she had not tried to sneak out that night, they never would have kissed. And the next morning, when Mipha asked if Link would return to the Domain with her, he fell back on his professed duty. Was that…all it was? Surely not, surely he would not have kissed her only because she was miserable and she kissed him first. He slew monsters out of loyalty and devotion to his position. Did he also hold her, whispering to her that she was lovely, that she was worth the moon and stars, purely out of a sense of loyalty? Was that why he hadn't tried to kiss her again? Was he only trying to humor her for a night, perhaps even to enjoy the thrill of kissing a woman he was not engaged to?

She could try to kiss him again. Right now. Right here, in the middle of Hyrule Field, where all of this began. She could grab him by the collar of his cloak, pull him over, and kiss him until they were both breathless. The thought alone made her head spin.

But, no. No, she would not dare attempt it. He had every opportunity to kiss her. After the ceremony, when Purah suggested it for the photograph, he refused. Along the road, under the light of the fireworks in their honor, he held her hand — but he did not kiss her. He did not kiss her when they sat together in the night and drank wine and laughed about the absurdity of the situation they found themselves in. He did not kiss her in the morning, after she had argued him into sharing a bed with her.

The conclusion could not have been more obvious, though it felt like a cold metal spike being driven into her heart with each beat. He did not love her — at least not in such a way. He loved her as a friend, as his princess, but not as a wife.

"I need you to promise me that you'll marry someone you can love. I don't care if that's Mipha or anyone else. Promise me that you'll have enough love for the both of us."

Her words, spoken in desirous haste, now sounded so meaningless. Marry someone he loved. His chance had flown the moment he pulled the sword from the stone. His reply stung even more.

"I need you to promise that you'll try to love whoever pulls the sword. If there's any chance that you could be happy, don't close yourself off from it."

She did love him. She loved him so much that her chest ached and her fingers twitched, desperate to reach out for his. It had been so simple, when the taste of his lips was fresh, to imagine such hypotheticals. Try to love whoever pulls the sword, he had said. Try to love them…so long as they aren't me.

She couldn't blame him for it. She was no better than Princess Mipha if she took a hasty confession as the truth. A boy didn't know any better, asking a princess to marry him. How could she possibly hold Link to the promises he had made in the heat of dreadful, passionate anticipation? They had both been looking for an outlet, not their soulmate. They both encouraged each other to fall in love with someone else.

"Ah, damn," Link cursed under his breath, looking up at the sky, now clouded over. Cool wind blew from the east. The first raindrop landed on top of Zelda's head. "There should be a shelter at this crossroads. We may be able to hop on a covered cart for the rest of the way, if it doesn't get too bad."

They didn't quite beat the oncoming storm. Heavy droplets pattered on the roof of the exchange. They kept their hoods up, avoiding the attention of the army suppliers, and quietly asked a porter to carry them in the back of his wagon on his way to the Maritta Exhange. Between crates and barrels, it wasn't the most comfortable ride, but it was dry. The wheels splashed into deep puddles in the Breach of Demise, turning north toward the Ancient Tech Lab.

Link kept his shield at the ready. Just in case.

When the imposing stone structure of the laboratory came into view, Link knocked on the wood of the cart, notifying the driver to slow down.

The grass squelched under Zelda's boots as she jumped out of the back — but the rain finally stopped. She turned her gaze toward the burning blue flames that lined the entryway. As soon as Link paid the porter, they were back on their way.

In the storm, Zelda hadn't noticed the descent of the sun. An orange sky burned overhead, the last of the clouds disappearing as they at last came to the heavy doors of the Ancient Tech Lab.

Zelda raised her fist to knock, but the door swung open without her input. A pair of owl-like goggles met her.

"Zellie?" Pushing the goggles up onto her forehead and quickly replacing them with her red-rimmed glasses, Purah looked confusedly between the two of them. "What are you doing here?"

"Well…" Zelda chewed her bottom lip, trying to see past Purah into the lab. Part of her had hoped that Impa beat her to it, saving her the trouble of explaining everything. "We're running away from my father." She cringed, expecting Purah to immediately raise the alarm and send a rider straight back to the Castle to inform the king.

"Seriously?" Purah gasped. Then, her face broke into a wide smile. "Good for you! Come on in!" She waved them both inside, much to Zelda's relief.

The lab was as she had last seen it, at least in essentials. More Guardian pieces and diagrams littered the tables and floors. Half a dozen Sheikah researchers looked up from their discussions. In the center of the room, Robbie tinkered with a crude copy of the Sheikah Slate, connected by a wire to a familiar egg-shaped Guardian, which whistled in greeting. Robbie's white eyebrows shot up upon seeing them.

"Your Highness!…es?" Robbies glanced at Purah, who only gave him a vague shrug.

"Link is fine," Link tried to keep the laughter from his voice. "Got two spare rooms?"

"Two, huh?" Purah crossed her arms, looking as if she wanted to comment further on it. She didn't need to. Her expression alone conveyed more than enough to Zelda, who could do without the Sheikah's constant skepticism. "Yeah, that can be arranged." She whistled, catching everyone's attention. "Listen up! Princess Zelda and Prince Link are gonna be staying here for a while, and I don't want a word of that to leave this laboratory, got it?!"

A chorus of affirmative responses satisfied Purah, who nodded. "Alright then. Let's get you two set up, and then you can join us for supper."

While technically Purah showed them to two seperate rooms, the connecting door between them was not lost on Zelda, who blushed at the sight of it. She set her bag down on the bed, not much smaller than the one they had slept in the night before.

As Link left them to change out of his damp clothes, Purah shut Zelda's door behind them and leaned against it, watching Zelda with a teasing gleam in her eye. "Seperate rooms? Let me guess, your wedding night wasn't to your satisfaction?"

"Purah!" Zelda's scandalized gasp came out more as a squeak, her face burning hotter than Dinraal's fire.

Despite Zelda's embarassment, Purah only laughed. "I'm just kidding! Goddess, with the way you two have been dancing around each other for months, I'm hardly surprised. Did anything happen last night?"

Deliberately avoiding Purah's intended meaning, Zelda began unpacking her royal blues and whites, preparing to strip off the rain-damp traveling tunic. "We left immediately following the recession. Link had a room prepared at a tavern in Mabe Village."

"Ooh, a honeymoon suite?" Purah waggled her eyebrows, which only earned a glare from Zelda.

"There was a single bed, if that's what you wanted to hear," Zelda sighed, unclipping her cloak from her shoulders and slinging it over the back of a wooden chair.

Purah's eyes lit up, her red-gloved hands clasped in front of her chest. "And?"

"And we slept." Zelda tugged her damp tunic off, then used it to squeeze the raindrops out of her long hair. "Then we went to breakfast downstairs and walked the rest of the way here."

The way Purah deflated reminded her of the Guardian Scout they'd accidentally ripped the battery pack out of. "Seriously? My sister told me you were practically salivating over him!"

"Ew!" Zelda shuddered at such a description. "I highly doubt she phrased it in such a way."

"Bah, semantics," Purah waved her hand vaguely. "You mean to tell me that you and your husband snuck out of the Castle, rented a room together, slept in the same bed all night, and nothing happened? Not even a kiss?" At Zelda's involuntary wince, Purah's researcher determination reappeared. She set her hands defiantly on her hips. "Well, we'll see about that."

"About what?" Zelda had just shimmied into her leggings when Purah turned and slipped out of the room without another word. "Pur- eep!" Zelda stumbled, tripping over her own discarded boots that she'd carelessly left in the middle of the room. She hopped and jumped, yanking her leggings into place and cracking open the door. "About what?!" Her frustrated demands met only the swish of Purah's labcoat disappearing behind the corner.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22: Chemistry

Summary:

While Zelda spends her days researching and assisting in the laboratory, Link cooked for the whole team. His suppers were always a resounding success.

Today, she would attempt to match his success.

Notes:

First full week of full-time writing! And I'm probably going to spend most of it getting conscripted into doing manual labor for my family. Alas. My only consolation is the bountiful elderberry harvest I foraged this morning.

When Impa arrived the next day, pitiful lamb in hand, Zelda blushed. As much as she appreciated the gesture of Link's effort and the sentiment behind it, the way Robbie and Purah laughed about it to themselves grated on her nerves.

"Any news from my father?" Zelda asked, nervously hugging the pitiful, scraggly lamb to her chest. Almost as soon as Purah started to comment on the lamb's state, she took it upstairs to her room. Along with the lamb, Impa brought along more of Link and Zelda's clothing, and other supplies that they might need for the supposed pilgrimage they were taking.

"He bought Link's story," Impa relayed, rather smug with herself. "With a little help from me, I'll admit. Glad he explained the fib in his letter. I was able to convince your father that I was going to meet you in Eldin on your way to Akkala. Took along some fireproof elixirs to really sell the idea."

Zelda popped open the small chest that Impa had brought with her. Sure enough, a half dozen black elixirs sat on top of Zelda's neatly folded clothes and a select few books. The books on electricity and hydraulics were useful, but did Impa really need to pack Lurelin's Passion? Zelda picked up the thin, worn-cover novel, giving her friend a skeptical look.

Impa only shrugged. "You're the one who had it on your nightstand."

"I-" Zelda thought back, recalling that she had, in fact, placed it on her nightstand the evening before the wedding. Which meant it was there when her father came to check on her. Which meant it was there when Link was in her room, changing out of his wedding clothes, kicking them under her bed. Which meant he could have, and very likely did, see it on the table beside said bed. "I did, didn't I?!" Her face flushed red, her heart rate spiking. "Oh Goddess, do you think anyone noticed?"

"Doubt it," Impa leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. "We Sheikah hear and see everything, and I didn't hear a word of any gossip regarding it."

That calmed Zelda's anxieties — at least a little. She let out a sigh. "This," she held the book up, "is going somewhere that it can't cause any problems." She shoved the book to the very bottom of the chest. When she did, however, she noticed something underneath her blouses. Her fingers wrapped around a familiar golden circlet. She tugged it free, her heart lurching when she again held the tiara she'd almost reached out for in her haste to leave.

"You don't have to wear it," Impa reminded her. "I just thought I'd bring it to help sell the lie."

"…Right," Zelda said slowly, setting the tiara back down on top of the elixirs. She shut the trunk, having retrieved everything she needed, and taken stock of everything else. "Thank you for your assistance, Impa."

---

Letters went out daily: updates on the supposed pilgrimage. They checked a map and estimated how long it would take to travel to all of these springs. The Spring of Wisdom was obviously off-limits, at least as far as praying in the waters, but the base of the mountain and purifying lake might be visited without much issue, so long as they didn't actually climb it. While Nayru's decree seemed a perfectly arbitrary number of years to Zelda, she wasn't about to incur Naydra's fangs at the cost of testing that theory. Zelda joked that Link should go pray at the spring in her stead. When he followed her joke with one of his own, asking if she wanted him to wear the white prayer gown too, she'd turned so beet red that the issue was immediately dropped in favor of a neutral topic.

Rather than spend all her days in prayer, Zelda got to spend them in her own sort of worship. Her efforts toward the defeat of the Calamity were much better spent in the development of Sheikah weaponry and defenses. Ancient depictions of the Calamity at times contradicted each other. Some sources said there were four Divine Beasts. Some said five. Purah and Robbie began making mock-ups of a supposed fifth Divine Beast; Zelda didn't think it was a whale, but she had to admit that the design was cute, in a fishy sort of way.

But, helping in the laboratory wasn't enough for her. She may have been a princess, and so hardly expected to perform work of this kind, but she wanted to show her appreciation for the team however she could.

The kitchen of the Tech Lab was not very large. Rather than keep a full-time cook, they took turns preparing meals for the day. Link, not being much of a researcher, volunteered to cover the most shifts. She had no idea where he learned to cook, but she couldn't deny his skills.

Baked apples, flaky steamed fish, wilted herbs in goat butter, and bowls of rice all graced the table that evening. The whole lab smelled divine all day, and Zelda's stomach started growling again not long after lunch, already anticipating what culinary masterpiece Link would come up with that day.

Her mouth watered at the sight of spiced butter dripping down the sides of a soft, pink, baked apple. Beside her, Link scooped up one of the larger ones. He set it onto her plate and, for good measure, drizzled more spiced butter on top.

If Purah wanted to talk about salivating, this would be the only appropriate moment.

"This smells delicious, Link," Zelda said, eagerly cutting into the baked fruit. Fragrant steam drifted up, making her forget that she'd already eaten plenty of rice, greens, and fish. While they kept her sustained, they weren't sweet. And, as much as Zelda wouldn't want to admit it, she also had a second stomach for desserts.

He smiled, then grabbed an apple for himself. Based on the delighted compliments of the Sheikah researchers around them, his supper was, once again, a resounding success.

Today, she would attempt to match his success.

Research had stalled temporarily in favor of repairing the western wall, which sustained significant damage after a skywatcher crashed into it. Work on the gyroscopes would have to wait, and perhaps be reduced to modeling for a while before they attempted to let it fly again. But, as Zelda wasn't much help in the realm of lifting bricks and slapping down mortar, she instead volunteered to try her hand at rewarding their hard work at the end of the day.

She twisted her hair up into a bun, pinned it in place, and tied an apron around her waist. "Right," she clapped her hands, surveying the ingredients and equipment at her disposal. "A stew should be simple enough. Brown the meat, chop the veggies, and let it simmer for…a time."

She set to work. She'd seen Link cook wild game in melted butter, mixing it with the fat from the slaughtered animal, searing each side until it was brown and crispy. She placed a cast iron pan over the fire, yellow-ish orange flames licking dark metal. Into this she threw down a stick of goat butter. Watching it melt, she bit her lower lip. She swore it wasn't this much liquid when Link cooked meat.

With a shrug, she chopped the game meat into small cubes, recalling that all the stews they'd had in stables had everything chopped into cubes, roughly the same size. When she'd finally finished chopping all the meat into cubes, she returned to the pan — only to find it smoking.

"No no no no no!" Zelda cried, quickly grabbing a thick towel from the rack by the hearth and wrapping it around the handle. As she yanked the pan out of the fire, smoke billowed up, filling the kitchen. She coughed, nearly dropping the very smokey, very hot, very - ow! - popping melted butter. She set the pan on the stone beside the hearth, then used the towel to fan as much of the smoke up the flue and out of the chimney as possible.

When the haze had (mostly) cleared, Zelda frowned at the remainder of the butter, now turned quite brown. "Well, that's…probably fine."

She plopped the cubed meat into the browned butter, keeping a much closer watch on it this time. One by one, she plucked out the cubes when they were seared and slightly glossy. When the last had been seared on every side, she removed the pan entirely. Tendrils of smoke still curled toward the flue, and she thought it should probably stay there.

She started on the vegetables. Starchy tubers, leafy greens, some kind of round, layered root thing that made her tear up almost as soon as she cut into it. With some difficulty, and much blinking and wiping away stinging tears, she dropped all of these into a large pot. Practically a cauldron, really.

Curiously, she grabbed one of the meat cubes, now slightly cooler, and took a bite. Which she immediately spat back out.

"Gods, that is awful!" She scrunched her nose and grabbed a cup of watered-down wine, trying to erase the taste from her mouth. When she had washed most of it out, she gasped and coughed, nearly having drowned herself in her desperation to get rid of the terrible flavor. "What did I do wrong?!"

The meat, of course, being meat, did not answer.

She frowned at the cubes, her stomach twisting in knots. That was the main protein  of the stew! She supposed she could make a stew with only vegetables…

"How bad could it be, really?" Zelda mumbled, dumping the cubes of seared meat into the pot.

Over the course of the next few hours, Zelda watched over the gently simmering pot. The color wasn't right. She added wine. No, that wasn't right either. Broth felt correct. Broth and water. And more wine. Some sprigs of the dried leaves that hung on strings over the preparation table. What else? Citrus? Lemon juice would surely help.

She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to keep herself from gagging; her spoon dropped onto brick. "No! No! It does not help!"

The work day came to a close. The Sheikah were tired, but the hole in the third story was mostly patched, and the outer layer of the wall was repaired as best they could. It would need to cure in the heat of the following day. They would be hungry. And Zelda…did her best.

She tried it before sending the pot out for the researchers to take their portions. It wasn't awful anymore. And "not awful" was about as good as she could do.

No one directly said it was terrible. No one said much of anything, or finished their bowls. They traded looks of confusion and alarm with each other. She knew she was done for when Link, who normally had a voracious appetite, barely ate half.

She cleaned up the table afterward, trying to keep the tears from escaping. These were not caused by the stinging root, but they hurt much, much worse. It didn't really make sense for her to be so upset over something so insignificant. After all, she was a princess. Who cared if a princess couldn't cook? She'd never have to cook in her life, if she didn't want to.

Taking everything back into the kitchen to wash, Zelda brought the dishes to a basin, ready to fill it with hot water and soap to scrub away what remained of her complete, total failure.

It was hardly becoming of a princess to cry over a wash basin. But she did. Miserable, sniffling sobs, tears falling into the water as she scrubbed and set the dishes aside to dry.

They hated it. She'd failed. She'd tried and failed and even though the feeling was so familiar to her, she couldn't explain why this failure stung so much more.

A knock at the door made her sobbing cease immediately. She hastily wiped away her tears, gathered her breath, and lifted her head.

Link was the last person she wanted to see in the doorway. He'd stopped wearing his armor lately, and the Champion's tunic fell loosely over his form. Electric blue eyes were almost gray in the firelight. He looked like he wanted to say something, his brows downturned, his lips pressed together. For a moment, she thought he would simply turn around and leave her to her misery.

At last, he spoke. "Do you need help?"

Her first instinct told her to shoo him away. She didn't need his help. She didn't need anyone's help. She just needed to try harder, to redeem herself somehow. Washing dishes alone was a just punishment for ruining everything.

She must have taken too long to answer, as he stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a clean towel, and held out his hand. Silently, she gave him the next rinsed plate. He efficiently dried it off, set it aside, and took the next. They worked in this way for several minutes before either of them spoke again. His hand brushing against hers, which had once sent shocks of lightning through her bones, now only served to make her feel worse.

The wave of shame crashed over her as they neared the end of the dishes. Like a sudden blow to the chest, Zelda wasn't prepared for the gasping sob that refused to be contained any longer, repressed tears streaming down her face again.

"I'm so sorry!" She sobbed, trying to wipe her tears on her (mostly) dry sleeves. "I completely ruined everything! It was such a simple task, and I failed! And now everyone is angry with me for wasting their supplies and giving them something so horrid after all the work they put in today! I just wanted to be useful!"

It wasn't fair of her to do this to him. He didn't come down here to be cried to. He wasn't Impa, and even Impa had limits to her patience. She was a complete failure in every way.

So why, then, did he set his hand on her shoulder?

"I'm not angry with you," he said, his voice soft and even, like how he soothed an ornery horse. If she weren't so miserable, she might have laughed. "No one else is, either."

She sniffled, blinking away the blurring tears, his face coming into focus again.

"I don't know who told you that cooking was simple. It isn't."

Zelda wiped her tears as best she could, though her sleeves, damp with sorrow and soap, were hardly sufficient. "You make it look simple."

"I've been doing it a long time," he explained. "My mom had me helping her the kitchen since I was seven."

Her chest still ached. She plunged the next dish into the basin, resuming the wash. "I never learned. I thought it would just…come to me."

"Why would it?" Link took the next dish she handed him.

Why? She paused her scrubbing, thinking over the question. "Because…I don't know. Because I'm a woman, I guess."

"Not to be insensitive, but no one is naturally good at anything because they're just 'supposed to be', for whatever reason." Another dish joined the growing pile. "Everyone has to learn things, and be bad at it, before they get good at it."

"Not you," Zelda muttered, immediately cringing at her own bitterness.

He didn't answer right away, and Zelda wanted to drown herself in the dishwater. Here he was trying to help, and she was pushing him away and insulting him. Some wife that made her. Some friend that made her. She wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to her again.

But, he reached out for the next dish. And she handed it to him.

When the last dish was dried, Zelda started the process of putting each away where they belonged while Link carried the basin outside to dump it on the grass. She expected him to leave, to not say another word to her for the rest of the night, the rest of their marriage, until the Calamity returned and slaughtered them all because she was never, never good enough.

As he walked out of the kitchen, Zelda felt her knees start to shake and give way beneath her. Another wave of furious, shameful tears threatened to overtake her, and probably would have, if he didn't return a few moments later — carrying a book.

"Have you ever baked before?"

Confused, Zelda shook her head. If he noticed the fresh, warm tears rolling down her cheeks before she had a chance to catch them, he didn't mention it.

He set the book down on the prep table and flipped through the pages, finally landing on one with a sketch of some kind of round pastry. "Let's try this. You're really good at science and chemistry. I think this may come easier to you than cooking."

She sniffled again, looking over his shoulder at the recipe. Apple cookies. She'd never made cookies before. She'd never made anything successfully before. As she scanned over the ingredients and directions, Link started gathering up jars of various dry goods. He carried a sack of flour with his left arm, plopping it onto the table.

"What's it need?" He asked, glancing back at her as he grabbed a handful of apples from the pantry.

"Um," she wiped her tears, trying to read the page. "Flour. Salt. Butter. Baking- baking powder?"

"That helps it rise," Link explained. "It's a pretty useful chemical. Not sure how it works exactly; you'd know better than me. What else?"

"A-apples…" She frowned, squinting at the last ingredients. "Nutmeg and brown sugar. What are those?"

"Brown sugar is just sugar that has a higher molasses content. Nutmeg is this little guy." He held up what looked to Zelda like an odd nut, which he set on the table next to a flat tool with lots of tiny holes in it. "So, walk me through it. What's step one?"

---

It was well beyond the hour when most of the researchers would have been in bed by the time the cookies came out of the oven. Unlike when she had cooked the stew earlier, this time, the kitchen smelled amazing. Much like Link's baked apples, but with the added sweetness of sugar and flour bound up in a delicious, fluffy confection.

Curious Sheikah poked their heads into the dining area, searching for the source of the aroma now permeating the laboratory. And Zelda, shakily, brought a large tray of little, brown cookies to the table. She hadn't tasted them yet. She wanted to, to make sure that she didn't create something truly awful like last time, but Link persuaded her not to. "They're too hot, for one," he'd said, "and second, just trust that you did a good job. I know you did."

When Robbie grabbed a cookie from the top of the pile, the other researchers watched him curiously, as if to see whether he'd turn green and get sick from something that Zelda made. Quite the opposite happened. He pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, his eyes wide in surprise. "These are spectacular!"

At his endorsement, the rest of the laboratory dove straight in, probably eager to get something that wasn't borderline poison in their stomachs. By the time everything was said and done, Zelda and Link barely had the chance to snag one cookie each for themselves.

Chatter about the pleasant surprise that evening followed the researchers as they returned to their quarters, many of them thanking Zelda and Link for their hard work — and Link directing all their praise to Zelda alone.

There wasn't much left to clean up, with all the bowls and utensils having been washed while the cookies baked. Zelda's tears had mostly dried. She took the tray back to the kitchen to wipe it down, now devoid of all but stray crumbs.

Link didn't have to stay. There wasn't much of anything left for him to do — he'd already done so much.

"Thank you, Link," Zelda offered him a smile, the dried tear streaks on her cheeks now obvious. Salt stiffened her skin. "For helping me."

The smile he gave her in return made her heart beat even faster. She desperately wanted to taste nutmeg again, the spice still lingering on their lips. "You're welcome," he said, leaning against the doorway. "But you're the one who did most of the work. Measuring, mixing, setting the temperature with that–" he waved his hand vaguely at the automatic thermometer by the oven, an invention originally created to keep sensitive equipment at a certain temperature by adjusting the fuel,"–whatever that is. That was you. I just got to help."

Got to. Like it was a privilege. She blushed. It was probably just the tiredness that sprung new tears to her eyes.

He didn't have to stay until she'd placed everything away and put out the fires. But since he did stay, and their rooms were adjacent, he did have to walk with her back upstairs.

She bit her lower lip, pausing by the door to her room. "Thank you, again."

His sigh wasn't one of annoyance. He smiled, his eyes tired. "I'm glad I could help," he said, like he genuinely meant it. When he brushed a strand of her flour-dusted hair behind her ear, her breath caught. "You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Zelda. You just needed someone to push you in the right direction."

"Chemistry?" She laughed softly.

He didn't respond right away. If she didn't know any better, she might think his attention briefly flickered to her lips, and back up again. "Yeah. Chemistry." He offered one last smile, drew away, and set his hand on the doorknob to his room. "Goodnight, Zelda."

Her chest ached all the more, like a magnet trying to reach iron. She pulled herself away. "Goodnight, Link." The ghost of his touch lingered on her skin.

Chapter 23: Loose Screws

Summary:

After giving our heroes a little time to figure things out on their own, and realizing exactly how dire the situation was, Purah decides to put her brilliant plan into action. And, since everything Purah does works out perfectly 100% of the time, with absolutely no injuries or causalities, she has complete confidence in her matchmaking abilities.

Notes:

Hello everyone! Another lovely day to not be in the office (though I suppose I wouldn't have been there anyway, given that it's Labor Day). Having a wonderful time working on this book, and I think I'll finish the fourth chapter by the end of this week. Not the progress speed I thought I'd have, but that's alright. Progress is progress. And, in a way, writing a novel is a bit like how I imagine someone falls in love. Sometimes it's fast, sometimes it's slow, but you're still drawn to it, wanting to know more, to spend more time in the world, discovering the characters that you thought you created, but that may have been around all along and you're just privileged enough to meet them.

Ah, anyway. You're not here for that sappiness. You're here for Zelink shenanigans and mutual pining. And boy does this chapter deliver.

Descriptions of vicious monsters chilled Zelda's blood. Reports came in from the Castle, addressed to Purah and promptly passed along to the hidden princess. Giant elemental chuchus, moblins wreathed in lightning, lynels whose axes drew exploding ice from the earth. Malice crept up from the ground like water, seeping into the dens of monsters and strengthening them beyond the capabilities of the army.

Guardian research mattered more with every report, captains begging for assistance and provisions. The few Guardian scouts and turrets that they'd been able to set up along the perimeter of the forts helped stem the growing tide, but only temporarily. Blue fires went out eventually, requiring a constant resupply from Tabantha or Akkala. Furnaces couldn't be built fast enough, or repaired Guardians shipped out in enough quantity, to combat the threats that pressed against her kingdom on every side.

Zelda ran a hand through her hair, scanning over the most recent report. Her breakfast laid untouched on the table in the laboratory's mess hall. A handful of half-written replies littered the floor, crumpled up attempts to give assurance and hope to a struggling battalion. If only they could get a stalker on the field…

Weight thudded against the side of the table, Impa leaning against it, a fresh apple in hand. "What are you thinking, Zellie?" She took a bite, the crunching grating on Zelda's nerves.

She tried to keep her eye from twitching. "I'm thinking we're back to losing this war."

Impa frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "There's got to be a better counter than what we've got already."

Another attempted letter crumpled in Zelda's hands, tossed behind her. "These aren't the bokoblins we were facing in my grandmother's day. Malice is strengthening them, like birthpains before the Calamity rises again."

"Eugh, what an awful image that makes," Impa shuddered. "You've been reading too much theology."

A sharp glare from Zelda quickly shut Impa's mouth.

Ink stained the side of Zelda's hand, vestiges of many failed attempts at advice. "We're dealing with Ganon, Impa. Theology is exactly what I should be looking at."

"Hm," Impa hummed and took another bite of her apple. "Alright, what's our angle?"

Blowing her bangs out of her face, Zelda gestured vaguely at the notes in front of her. "Malice is all over Hyrule. We've got the Divine Beasts and the Hero, and still no sign of my power awakening. Which, I fear I may start to…agree with my father." She slumped into her chair, glaring at her pitiful attempts that laid scattered on the floor. "Maybe I've been wasting my time."

"But, Princess!" Impa urged, setting her hand on Zelda's shoulder. "You've accomplished so much since coming here!"

"And still I have no functional stalker to show for it. Goddess knows I'd send them a skywatcher if I didn't think it would destroy our own men before the enemy," Zelda grumbled. She picked up her pen again, twirling it between her fingers as she thought it through again. "Elemental monsters aren't exactly new, but we've never seen this quantity, or in such strengths. Were they something we could neutralize with Chuchu jelly and keese wings, this wouldn't be nearly the problem that it is. But we simply do not have enough resources from small targets like those."

And, even if they could somehow gather a whole horde of chuchus, the jelly eventually went bad. They needed a way to store the elemental energy more reliably. Adding elemental magic to the Guardians, while on her list of ideas, was still a long way off from coming to fruition. They just had to survive in the meantime, and that possibility looked slimmer by the day.

"What about wizzrobes?"

Zelda sat up, giving her friend an odd look. "Wizzrobes?"

"They're elemental," Impa pointed out, waving her apple for emphasis. "Link and I have taken out a few. They're easy enough to hit, especially the fire and ice. You just have to strike them with the opposite element. And when they fizzle," She tossed the apple up into the air and caught it again, "they leave behind their rods."

Frowning, Zelda considered the idea. "That…could work. We'd need to train the captains on how to make use of them."

Grinning broadly, Impa pushed herself off the table. "Then it's a good thing Purah wants to go research that tower in the garrison soon. We'll take the opportunity to train them in borrowed magic."

Compared to fruitlessly spinning her wheels, at least this idea held some merit. "Alright, we'll try that." Zelda grabbed what was left of her papers and tapped them into a neat stack. "In the meantime, we'll get the first stalker operational." She bit her lip nervously, eyeing the reports once more, the glaring casualties. "Sooner rather than later."

---

Her earlier mishap with the stew appeared mostly forgotten by the research team. Rather than return to cooking duties, Purah dragged Link and Zelda into the workyard that morning.

"We need a big, strong man like you to help us move these Guardian pieces," she explained, very pointedly looking at Zelda when she emphasized how strapping he was. It took all of Zelda's willpower not to roll her eyes at Purah's obvious attempts at second-hand seduction.

"What does that make me?" Robbie complained, carrying a crate of ancient materials behind them.

Purah cast a sly smile over her shoulder at him. "Adequate, but non-optimized."

After the first half hour of telling Link how strong and wonderful he was, Zelda started to wonder whether it was actually Purah's intention to seduce Link for herself — until she caught Robbie's very skeptical expression. After a quick conversation between the two of them, the endless compliments at last ceased.

Zelda crawled on top of one of the newly-unearthed Guardian models, scrubbing the dirt from its black shell. The day had just begun, and with any luck, they'd have this model up and operational by sundown. Like many of the stalkers they'd found thus far, this particular one had lost several of its limbs. While Robbie worked inside making replacements based on the example relics, Zelda, Purah, and Link worked to restore the bulk of the Guardian outside.

Dust flew in every direction as Zelda beat the top of the Guardian with her rag, sending grime and dirt flying. Whatever these things were made of, they didn't rust. Some had some lingering damage, suspected to be from battle in the original war against the Calamity ten thousand years ago. The same sorts of scarring and odd, sulfurous scent lingered over more and more of the models they dug up in and around the Breach of Demise. Part of her started to wonder whether the Guardian that arose and attacked them was indeed malfunctioning, or was the victim of some lingering maleficent forces, a vestige of the Calamity that soaked into the circuits and confused the programming.

Distant drilling buzzed in her ears, Robbie recruiting Link to help him mount the Guardian leg segments together. The steel they produced and imported to the lab was not of the same quality as the originals, but it was almost as good, especially when they melted down broken Guardian pieces and added the ancient metal to the alloys. She slid down the Guardian, sitting a moment on the bell-shaped body. Link was doing his best, but even from this distance, she could tell that most of Robbie's explanation went right over his head.

"Jealous, Zellie?" Purah teased, leaning on the Guardian and blinking up at Zelda innocently.

Zelda scoffed and shook her head. "Of what? Having to hold the pieces together and hoping Robbie doesn't accidentally weld me to a Guardian?" She resumed her cleaning. A stone had lodged itself underneath the head joint, locking the swivel mechanism in place. She grabbed a screwdriver from her toolbelt, trying to wiggle the stone free.

"Of not getting drilled yourself."

The stone flew out with a vengeance. Zelda's grip on the screwdriver slipped, the point scratching against the arm she had been using to brace herself against the Guardian while she worked. "Ghh!" Zelda bit back a gasp of pain and surprise, a long, mostly superficial scratch along her forearm starting to bloom with tiny pinpricks of blood. "Purah!"

"Sorry!" Purah helped Zelda down, guiding her off the Guardian and onto solid ground. At least she had the decency to look remorseful. "That was completely unintentional, I swear."

Her arm stung when she tried to flex it. A dirty screwdriver digging into her flesh was not on her list of daily goals. The medical kit was, thankfully, not far. They needed its supplies more than they should have. As she washed the dirt out of the wound with soap and water, she caught a glimpse of Link watching her, concern etched onto his face. She waved him off to let him know she was alright.

"That was quite unnecessary," Zelda hissed, tipping a small bottle of strong alcohol onto a rag. She clenched her jaw, dabbing at the spots of blood along the wound. Superficial or not, it hurt like a– what did Link call it?

"Someone had to point out of the obvious," Purah shrugged, taking the bottle and rag back when Zelda had finished cleaning the wound. A quick dab of neutral oil over the top sealed it. A bandage wouldn't be necessary — this time. "You two are married, after all."

The glare that Zelda shot Purah could have frozen a meteo wizzrobe, at least in Zelda's opinion. "Not by choice, I will remind you," Zelda huffed. She shook out her arm and flexed her hand. Not ideal, but she could keep working, so long as she kept it clean. She rolled her sleeve down over the injury to keep out the dust.

"That's not what my sister told me."

Zelda shot Purah another scathing glare, the effect muddied by the fierce blush across her cheeks. "What may or may not have happened at any point in the past has exactly no bearing on the present moment, thank you very much!" She barely caught a glimpse of Link checking on her again. She ducked down behind the Guardian, keeping her voice low. "If you must know, we kissed." Before Purah could get too excited, Zelda raised her hand. "Before he drew the sword. It was one time, and we were both experiencing a lapse in judgment due to insomnia and anxiety regarding clearing the Lost Woods. It has not happened since then, nor have we even spoken of it. So, please, keep all your comments and suggestions to yourself."

---

As it would turn out, Purah would not, in fact, keep all her comments and suggestions to herself. Nor were the comments and suggestions entirely limited to Purah.

The midday sun burned against the back of Zelda's neck, exposed by her hair pulled up into a twisted bun. The curved metal of the Guardian reflected the light back at her again, the black surface turning too hot to touch without gloves. She slid off the side after adjusting the replacement focusing lens. These were particularly difficulty to replicate, as the glass needed to be a specific thickness that they could only occasionally produce with any success. Luckily, glass could be recycled when it didn't match the specifications they needed. For every one bulb that matched their needs, another ten were shattered and thrown back into the fire to try again.

Water sloshed behind her. She turned, spotting Link dragging a bucket up from the well, grabbing the handle with his left hand. Robbie thanked him and dipped his canteen in to fill it. "You know, I bet Zelda's thirsty," Robbie commented, a sly grin on his face. "I think you can do something about that."

The something he did, much to Zelda's relief, was completely ignore Robbie's intended message.

"Zel, toss it here!"

Though her face burned, and not from the heat, she complied. She slipped her canteen's strap off her shoulder. It had run dry a while ago anyway. Naturally, Link caught it despite her terrible throw. She wasn't sure how she felt about him walking it back to her. While she wanted to be offended that he didn't think she could catch it on the return, she was quite grateful for his help, and preferred not to have her drinking water spilled all over the grass.

"Thank you." She gratefully accepted the canteen back, unscrewing the top to take a long sip of the cool water within.

"No problem. How's your arm?"

Frowning, Zelda flexed her hand, the muscles in her forearm shifting beneath the scratch. "Nothing serious. Just a scratch, minor bleeding."

Despite her words, Link didn't look at all convinced, his brows down-turned. "You should go by the infirmary sometime today, just in case."

"I'm fine, Link-"

"Please, Zelda," he took her hand gently in his, giving her fingers a slight squeeze. "Don't make me worry about you."

Thud-da-bump. Her mouth went dry, the earlier sip of water entirely evaporated in a moment. Unable to come up with an answer or retort, Zelda merely nodded.

When Link rejoined Robbie by the well, Zelda finally felt like she could breathe again.

---

Broken Guardian claws laid strewn in the grass, hopelessly damaged beyond salvaging, at least for their original purpose. Zelda weighed one in her hands, examining it from various angles. There might be something else she could do with them. Perhaps fashion them into some kind of weapon?

"Whatcha thinkin' Zellie?" Purah asked. She leaned against the Guardian, then jumped off with a hiss.

"It's hot on the sunny side," Zelda pointed out without looking up. "I was thinking about an alternate use for these pieces. I saw a description in the records about scout models being able to copy weaponry out of blue flame energy, producing a sort of temporary replica. I haven't actually seen a scout do this, but I have seen the little axe that Terrako can create."

"Ah, yes, your son," Purah teased.

"Not my son, thank you," Zelda reminded her, not dignifying such a paltry attempt with much more of a response. "I believe these spare parts may be repurposed into a weapon of such a variety, but there are still many variables I do not know. I'd need a warrior skilled enough in a variety of weapon types to make use of it, if I can get it created in the first place. There is no guarantee that there will be any particular weapon type on the battlefield. Someone would have to be adept in swords, clubs, polearms, axes-"

"I know a guy like that," her friend purred, grinning.

"Purah-" Zelda was about to snap at her friend again for such an obvious attempt at derailing, but then she stopped. "Oh." She watched Link haul another crate of ancient parts over, dropping them where Robbie directed. "Hm. I suppose he is adept at all those things."

"I bet he's adept at a lot more than that. And if not, I'm sure he's more than willing to learn, provided he has the right sparring partner."

"Yes, that's probably corr- Wait, what did you mean by that?"

Purah's snickering laughter only made Zelda's cheeks turn pinker.

Tight fists formed at Zelda's side, clutching the damaged Guardian claw. "That was forced and you know it!"

"Ah, well," Purah shrugged. "Can't blame a gal for trying. That's still more than you've been doing."

"Hrk!" Zelda choked on her own scandalized gasp, quickly ducking out of sight of Link before he stopped to inquire if she was okay. "You stop it!" She hissed at Purah. "I-I've had it with these jokes at my expense! Don't make me go get my tiara and remind you that I am still the Princess of Hyrule!"

"Sure, and he's the Prince," Purah reminded her, "Go get it, Zellie. I'm sure you'll just be even prettier in his eyes."

Infuriating woman! Realizing there was simply no winning this one, Zelda elected to walk away with what was left of her dignity intact.

---

With the top of the Guardian mostly cleaned up, Zelda could focus on the bottom. With some help from the other researchers, they lifted the Guardian up onto a stack of bricks to elevate it just enough so that Zelda could slide underneath and reconnect the wiring that had come loose inside the body. These really needed a protective plate underneath them to protect the interior from gathering all the dust that the stalker kicked up when it walked. Knowing that she was going to regret this immediately, Zelda took a breath in through her nose, closed her eyes, and blew out as hard as she could into the interior of the Guardian to knock loose as much of the dust as possible. Falling debris hit her face, signaling her success. She kept her eyes closed and held her breath as she wiped the dirt and dust off her face with the rag.

Daring to breathe again, Zelda peeked one eye open. To her surprise, compressed air did the trick. "Well, now we know that blowing works better than trying to rub it."

Zelda only got a moment's warning before Purah stuck her head underneath the Guardian. "Yeah, I've noticed that works on men, too."

"Purah!" Zelda jumped, promptly slamming her forehead against the underside of the Guardian. The echo of the impact rang like a gong. "Nayru's fangs!" She did not at all care for the way Purah's laughter echoed in the narrow space.

"Are you alright?" Link asked. She could barely see his boots from her vantage point, trying to crane her neck without whacking her head on the underside again.

"Yes, just fine, thank you!" She assured him, then muttered under her breath, "I'm going to kill that Sheikah…"

After nearly giving Zelda a concussion, Purah and Robbie at last seemed to have run out of jokes, or at least felt sorry enough for her that they were going to give her a break.

She'd almost gotten the Guardian operational again. A few loose panels inside needed to be reconnected. While some of the hardware remained mostly intact, if slightly bent, that wasn't anything she couldn't handle with the right tools.

"Make sure the socket is lubricated before you connect those pieces," Purah ordered. Now that the Guardian's new legs were ready, the time came to attach them. As this was a fairly arduous task, requiring someone to lift the giant metal leg while another mechanic reconnected it, she gladly left such a chore to Link. "If it doesn't slide in, don't force it, or else you could cause damage to the socket."

"And that completely ruins the mood," Robbie added.

"What?" Link asked.

"Robbie!" Zelda grabbed a small stone from the ground and slung it as hard as she could, striking the researcher right in the ankle.

"Ow!" Robbie jumped back, hopping on one foot and rubbing the quickly-forming bruise away. "Hylia's shadow, you've got quite the aim!"

She didn't hear any more commentary from them after that, having proven that she was not above violence. But as resourceful as she was, she couldn't create connections where there weren't any. The shaft had completely snapped in half on this portion, and three of the screws were missing. However, Zelda had learned her lesson by this point. Rather than dare say anything aloud, she'd just go get the pieces herself. She slid out from underneath the Guardian, blinking in the bright afternoon sunlight.

Having reconnected most of the legs, Robbie and Link took another water break, sitting in the grass not far from the Guardian. Link rubbed his right shoulder, kneading sore muscles. He grabbed his canteen with his left hand. Water trickled down Link's throat. He'd taken off his Champion tunic, having apparently sweat through it. His thin undershirt wasn't exactly hiding much. Sweat coated his muscles in a sheen, making him look almost as metal as the Guardian. Light shone on every curve and angle, highlighting his form in a way that made Zelda suddenly want to take a water break, too. She only realized she'd been staring when Robbie waved at her.

Zipping back underneath the Guardian before Link noticed, Zelda quickly grabbed the first pieces by the Guardian. Luckily, it looked like everything she required. Taking a breath to remind herself that she was a princess and that mere teasing was not going to ruffle her feathers, Zelda set to work on the final adjustments to the inner-workings. It wasn't until she got to the end of her supplies that she realized she needed one more piece. She bit her lip. She could leave it, potentially, and it probably wouldn't come apart. Maybe the Guardian they'd spent the better part of the month on suddenly seizing and collapsing on itself was a small price to pay for not hearing whatever jokes they would most likely come up with once she asked for this piece.

She sighed. No, the engineer in her wouldn't allow it. She tapped on the underside of the Guardian to get Purah's attention.

"What's up?" Purah ducked underneath, her owlish goggles hiding her eyes.

"I need a…" Zelda frowned, "Listen to me. If I tell you that I need a piece, I want you to swear to me that you won't make any comments regarding it. Got it?"

A devilish grin spread across Purah's face. "Cross my heart, Princess. No comments."

Not that Zelda believed her for an instant. Nevertheless, she wanted to get finished with this and back inside the lab as soon as possible — she'd had enough injuries for one day. "I need a screw."

While the snorting laugh was technically not a comment, Purah was still on thin ice. "Got it. One moment!"

Zelda let out a sigh of relief. Whether Purah kept her word or not, at least this would soon be over.

Not long after, Zelda heard footsteps approach. "I've got it!" Purah announced.

"Thank Hylia," Zelda sighed. She quickly slid out from under the Guardian, eager to grab this last piece and be done with it.

She was not, however, expecting to run straight into Link, knocking his legs out from under him. He crashed on top of her, losing his balance with a startled yelp. His body hit hers, knocking the wind out of both of them. Both of their faces bloomed red.

For several seconds, they just stared at each other, stunned and disoriented. That is, until Link held up the ancient screw, wincing slightly. "Ah, Purah said you needed this."

She understood now why the ancient king banished an unruly branch of the Sheikah tribe. Taking the screw from him, she only nodded in thanks, unable to get any words out.

Suddenly remembering himself, Link scrambled off of her. She disappeared under the Guardian again, screwed in the final panel, and — checking first — slid back out again. With the Guardian at last complete, she gave both researchers a death glare.

The Sheikah, for their part, were utterly unaffected, merely waving at her as they sat on an overturned supply crate. They clinked their canteens in a toast, smiling at the fuming Zelda as she stormed back inside.

Chapter 24: The Infirmary

Summary:

Following Link's advice, Zelda goes to the medic to get her Purah-induced injuries treated. She discovers, however, that she isn't the only patient that evening.

Notes:

cw: vague descriptions of medical procedures

Bitter herbs stung Zelda's nose whenever she had to pass by the infirmary. Research into the ancient relics didn't always result in injury, but too many had gotten burned, cut, or crushed by the Guardians they worked to restore. Even those not directly effected by a Guardian, such as the researcher who managed to sprain his ankle carrying a stack of books downstairs and missing a step, all found their way here at one point or another. The Ancient Tech Lab didn't keep a full-time cook, but they did keep a full-time medic. Necessity and frequency demanded one more than the other.

From the trouble that Purah and Robbie caused earlier that day, Zelda decided to take Link's advice to get someone to do a better job of checking her for any lingering problems. The scrape across her arm still hurt, and the hard whack she'd taken to the head by slamming herself into the underside of the Guardian did not help the situation. She'd never liked headaches, and she especially didn't like them when it could be the sign of a concussion.

White linens hung up around a couple beds, making semi-private areas for the medic to speak with and treat a patient. Herbs and tinctures lined the walls, stacked high on shelves beside medicine books and journals. For as much research left the laboratory, just as much came into it, delivered straight into the hands of the Sheikah medic who sent reports back and forth with the royal physicians, comparing notes on everything from the common cold to Guardian burns. Since joining their team, Ernst had quickly made himself invaluable.

Though it wasn't particularly unusual for the medic to be preoccupied with another patient, and therefore not available to consult as soon as Zelda walked in, she seldom heard that patient. A hiss of pain sounded from behind one of the curtains — a familiar one.

"It's worse today," Ernst said, trying to keep his voice low.

"It'll keep getting worse," came the groaned response. "The wave will break eventually."

"Let's hope it breaks before the wound re-opens, or else we'll have to worry about infection."

Zelda's ears twitched, her mouth thinning into a slight frown. That couldn't possibly be Link…could it? What was worse?

As his wife, she could have walked back there and asked directly, and no one would have stopped her. As the princess, even, few would deny her any information. Yet, if it was Link, and he hadn't told her anything…was there a reason?

Curiosity got the better of her. She leaned around the first set of linens, finding the area empty. Not there. Maybe the back?

Stealth was never Zelda's forte. Today proved no exception, as she pushed aside a linen curtain and accidentally tugged the whole rigging down, wood and metal rings clattering to the floor. Dull thuds accompanied ringing metal on wooden panels. She might as well have set off one of her bombs in the center of the room for all the noise it made.

Wincing at her own stupidity, Zelda blushed hard. What was once constructed to give some sense of privacy was now scattered all over the floor in crumpled piles. "Skies, I am so sorry! I'll help clean it up, I swear!"

"Zelda?"

There was certainly no mistaking him now. At least he didn't sound as disappointed in her as she felt. He sat on the edge of one of the beds, a sheet wrapped over his bare shoulders. She tried not to look at his chest, quickly returning her gaze to the linens she tried to grab. He didn't look mad, even if he really was.

She waved awkwardly at him and the flummoxed Ernst. "Hello," she greeted. "Ah, here, let me help!" She gathered up the scattered linens, a bundle of mismatched pieces in her arms.

"Just set them down there," Ernst sighed. Zelda no longer had to worry about whether he was disappointed. He left no question, pinching the bridge of his nose, pushing up his red-rimmed glasses. "Do you need something, Your Highness?"

"Me?" Zelda quickly tossed the linen bundle onto the bed across from Link, looking between him and the medic. "Oh, it's minor, really. I just cut myself with a screwdriver earlier and hit my head on a Guardian."

Ernst gave her an odd, skeptical look. "…How?"

"Purah."

"Ah," Ernst nodded, needing no further explanation. Whenever Purah involved herself, injuries and accidents soon followed. Laboratory safety was more of a guideline than a rule for her. "I'll be with you in a moment."

"Tend to her first," Link said, adjusting the sheet around his shoulders, tensing slightly.

Ernst turned back toward him to protest, but he decided better of arguing with the stubborn prince. "Very well," he gestured for Zelda to follow him. "We'll see to the cut first. An infection is the last thing we want. Have you treated it with anything?"

Zelda followed close behind, stealing an occassional glance back at Link, who remained as resolute as ever; unmoving, silent, and tense. "Yes. I cleaned it as best I could, and poured alcohol and oil on it." She stopped abruptly when the medic did, almost knocking straight into him.

"Hm," he paused by a collection of strong-smelling tinctures, examining the labels. "Show me."

She hadn't rolled up her sleeve since she sealed the scrape, and very much desired not to now, but, reluctantly, she obliged. The fabric of her sleeve peeled back, revealing the six-inch scratch across her arm. It had started to partially scab over, and glistened with the remaining oil.

After examining her a moment, Ernst grabbed one of the jars. A viscous, slighty red, translucent liquid sloshed inside. "Warm safflina should help speed up the healing process. This blend has a protective element as well, very good at preventing infection. May I?"

Far be it from her to deny a medic from doing his job. She held out her arm, deliberately looking away. Metal and glass twisted, the lid of the tincture popping off. When the warm liquid hit her skin, it didn't hurt — at first. The moment it seeped a little deeper into the scratch, pinpricks of flame sparked. She inhaled sharply through her nose, trying not to scream. The fire quickly faded to mere uncomfortable warmth, dulling the effect. Metal twisted back on, and glass clinked against the wooden shelf it came from.

As Ernst began to wrap the wound properly this time, Zelda dared to glance at it, now hidden and hot under white bandages. If Link had been such a baby with wine when she helped him with the Lizalfos scratch, she could hardly imagine how sensitive he'd be to a tincture like this. Which made her wonder all the more.

"Ernst, is Link…alright?" She kept her voice as low as possible, hoping that the target of her worries couldn't hear her.

No answer came. Ernst tore off the remainder of the bandage roll and tucked the tail between the wrappings.

Receiving no reply from him, Zelda tried to sneak a glance back at Link. Before, she hadn't noticed much wrong with him, though she would admit that probably had a connection to the novelty of seeing him shirtless. But, on a second inspection, sickly green colored his shoulder. Her first thought sent shards of frigid terror through her chest; he was dying, infected with something slowly eating him alive! But, no, Ernst's words didn't match that. He wouldn't worry about an infection if Link already had one. What was it, then? A bruise? He hadn't sustained any serious injuries that she'd known of since they arrived at the Lab. And even if he had, why hide it?

Her curiosity burned even more than the safflina. If something was wrong with Link, something he didn't want her to know about, that was exactly the sort of thing she needed to know about the most. He was the hero! Anything that put him out of commission was a serious threat to Hyrule!

Settling on this reasoning, Zelda refused to take silence as an answer. Using her best, most authoritative voice, Zelda set her hands on her hips (ignoring the spark of flame that zipped up her arm as she did), and made her demands known. "As the Princess and his wife, I ought to know of his condition."

Slightly surprised by her demand, and skeptical, Ernst frowned. "Are you sure?"

Cold swooped through her stomach, the implications of such a question weighing on her. Nevertheless, she forced herself to remain resolute. "Yes."

Heaving a sigh, Ernst shook his head. "Very well, Your Highness. He's suffered a very greivious arrow strike."

An arrow? Who could have possibly shot him with an arrow?

Her confusion must have come across clearly from the length of the room, as Link elaborated. "Sooga shot me."

Zelda whirled around to face him, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Sooga was here?!"

"No!" Link answered quickly, wincing a little. "He shot me before the wedding."

The gears in her head ground against each other, the calculations not adding up. Hadn't she seen him climb into her window that very evening? Hadn't he been assisting Robbie and cooking and practicing his forms for the last two weeks? "I don't understand. Didn't Mipha heal you?"

Electric blue set as firm as steel. Slowly, Link let the sheet fall. "She did." Without the fabric covering most of his arms and shoulders, the extent of the injury revealed itself. Dark violet and pale green spread over his right side from his collar to his bicep.

Zelda's hand flew to her lips, the horror of what she witnessed at last catching up to her. "What happened?!" Before he could answer, she ran to him, the mottled bruise more widespread than she initially thought. "Goddess, why in Hylia's name did you let Robbie talk you into helping him with the Guardian?!"

Link grimaced, his hands forming tense fists on his knees. "It wasn't this bad earlier."

Her morbid curiosity still unsatisfied, she walked around him, trying to understand the nature of his injury. Bruising covered most of his upper back, like vessels had burst all over, blood pooling under his skin. Her stomach turned at the sight of the epicenter — a deep red scar, jagged, just on the edge of his shoulder blade. She almost reached out, but quickly drew her hand back, unsure if even the slightest touch would cause further pain. "I don't understand," she repeated. "You were fine that evening!"

"I was," Link agreed. "Mipha….remember how I said she was mad as hell?"

"MIPHA DID THIS?!"

"No! Not- not intentionally," Link tried to explain. "Her magic is affected by her emotions. When she's mad, the healing doesn't always stick. It works for a while but then…comes undone."

Despite his defense of her, Zelda's blood boiled at the sight of the bruising and angry scar. "Then she should have fixed it!"

"Zelda," Link took her hand with his left, like she was the one suffering, and pulled her away from the worst of the injury. "I'm not mad at Mipha."

"Well-! Well, I am!" Zelda's voice trembled, distorting tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. "How dare she let you suffer like this?!"

"She saved my life, Zel." His thumb brushed against the back of her hand, the same sort of soothing tone she'd heard more times than she deserved. "Her magic is wearing off, but I'll be okay. It gave me the time I needed to recover on my own."

Hot tears slipped away despite her best efforts. She wiped them away quickly with the back of her hand. Damn it all, why was she the one upset? He had far more of a reason for anger and resentment. She didn't even want to think about how badly he must have been hurting, and for how long. The thought of it crushed her heart.

Nevertheless, she forced herself to nod in understanding. "Alright. But I'm going to put up a fight if you try to help Robbie before you're better."

A short, breathy laugh was her reply. "Noted, Princess. I'll yield to you."

Despite the fury beating through her blood, she couldn't stop the way her heart fluttered at his words. Part of her almost resented him for it. She squeezed his hand in return. "And don't you ever go taking arrows for me again."

Even through the pain in his eyes, laughter remained, sparkling in amusement. "You know I can't promise that," he reminded her, "but I'll do my best."

"Good." Zelda bit the inside of her cheek, unsure of what to say or do. She would have tried to hug him, if not for the clearly-painful bruising. She could kiss him — she desperately wanted to for weeks — but the distance remained unspannable.

Finally settling on her decision, she compromised, bringing his hand to her lips and placing a soft kiss on his scarred knuckles. The gesture could have been platonic, though undeniably intimate. As she let his hand fall from hers, she tried her best to keep the tremble from her voice. "If you need anything, please let me assist you. Night or day, I don't care. You're…you're important to me."

Skies, now I've gone and embarrassed him. Pink colored his face, his blue eyes slightly startled. Yet, he nodded. "I will."

With that settled, now she just had to make her exit without causing any further problems for either of them. "Very well. Goodnight, Link." She turned to go before she had another opportunity to do something stupid.

"Goodnight, Zelda."

She heard his reply as she slipped through the doorway, her face burning as hot as the wrapped safflina. What a wonderful way to absolutely ruin everything.

---

Zelda was never a heavy sleeper. Back at the Castle, she started at every sound, every footstep outside of her door, awakening to the changing of the guard. When her maids came in every morning to draw the curtains or light the fire, she dozed in and out, even their most-silent steps still pulling her from rest.

Traveling with Link and Impa had little impact on her habits, at first. Rather than waiting and listening for unkind words and beratement, she tuned to the growls and howls of monsters and wild beasts. She barely slept the first few days on the road to gather the four Champions.

But, as time went on, and Link proved an even lighter sleeper than her, if he ever slept at all, Zelda finally relaxed. Between Link and Impa, the worst they would face was monsters — and Link and Impa were the worst things the monsters would face.

She slept easier in the laboratory. The first few nights, she waited, awake, swearing she could hear her father's footsteps and voice downstairs — calling for her, demanding that she return to the Castle at once. When morning came and no evidence of her phantom father appeared, she gradually released the tension in her shoulders.

Tonight, she started at the creaking of a door. Her eyes flew open, darting immediately to her own door. Dark, solid, unmoving. She glanced at the other, the one built as a portal between hers and Link's. No movement there either.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It might have been her imagination, then. A manifestation of unwelcome stress after what she had witnessed in the infirmary. She felt around blindly for the Sheikah Slate on her endtable, at last connecting with the strange stoney surface. Flipping it around to face her, the early morning greeted her: 2:30am. She groaned, slumping back into her pillow. The middle of the night, not even the hour of the early guard rotation.

As she tried to drift off to sleep, a soft sound reached her ears. She sat up slowly, listening closer, unsure of her own perception. It wouldn't be the first time that phantoms kept her awake. Yet, these sounded too real. It sounded like frustration, exhaustion, a barely audible groan and the creaking of wood.

Carefully, Zelda peeled back the covers and slipped out of her bed. Her bare toes brushed against the borrowed rug, the Sheikah eye staring up at her from an intricate pattern. The Sheikah saw all — heard all. They wouldn't let a monster into the laboratory. And, besides, it didn't sound quite so monstrous now. It sounded like it was coming from the room next to her, the wall her headboard abutted.

She waited another moment, holding her breath. Would Link really have returned to his chambers at 2:30 in the morning? That seemed highly unlikely. Ernst would have insisted on Link getting some rest far sooner than that.

Then again, when had she known Link to follow a medic's directions?

A knock at her door made her jump. She let out a small squeak of surprise, whipping around toward the connecting door.

"Zelda?" His voice came through as barely a whisper, like he didn't want to wake her, if she was truly asleep.

Quick steps carried her to the door, her hand lingering on the handle for just a moment. Part of her wondered if it was a trick. Why would Link need her in the middle of the night? A fleeting thought crossed her mind and warmed her cheeks — she shoved it aside and dared to open the door.

She didn't think she'd ever seen him quite so tired. Even on the morning that they were first ambushed by Yiga in Castle Town, having stayed up with her all night, he didn't have such dark circles under his eyes. She tried not to look at the bruising still visible on his shoulder — she really tried not to look at his bare chest. The earlier hypothesis of his reason for calling on her in the middle of the night once again raised itself as a possibility; Purah's snickering laughter accompanied the idea.

Then again, that was probably the absolute last thing on his mind, given his current state. He blushed heavily, evidently surprised that she actually opened the door for him. "Sorry to wake you, but…Do you have any spare pillows?"

She stared at him, trying to process the question. "Do I-?" Glancing over at her bed, she counted the pillows she'd tossed on from the laboratory's supply. It was probably excessive to have grabbed five, but she had grown too accustomed to the excess when she lived in the Castle. But, it was excess. "Yes, how many do you need?"

Taking a step back, Link frowned at something in his room beyond Zelda's perception. "I'm not sure. Maybe two?"

"For what?" Zelda asked, daring to invade his quarters just a little to view whatever he was referring to.

A small mound of rolled-up blankets laid across his bed, seemingly haphazardly placed. It was built up on the right side, almost a sort of slope.

Link reviewed his strange design again, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was just trying to keep the worst of it elevated. It's, uh, really hard to sleep."

A sharp inhale. Yes, that would account for the exhaustion. If his injury had indeed been getting worse, his ability to rest would likewise be diminished. That would only compound the issue. His body would never repair itself if it never rested.

Without another word, Zelda slipped back through the door and into her own room. She grabbed two pillows, paused a moment, and grabbed a third. When she returned to Link, though he held out his left hand for them, she refused to pass them over. "Will you let me help?"

His eyes widened, a bit taken aback by her request. "…I guess? How do you intend to help?"

Zelda chewed her lower lip, thinking it over. "Well, I thought I could place them according to where you needed the most support. So…" She gestured vaguely at the bed, trying to ignore the flames licking at her cheeks.

Under normal circumstances, she would expect a fight, or else an insistence upon the impropriety of her request. But, clearly more desperate for rest than maintaining anyone's pride, Link obliged. The bed creaked as he slumped onto his stomach, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. At his direction, making adjustments where necessary, she tucked the pillows under his arm, supporting his torso, and one on his left to keep him from shifting too much in the other direction.

Once in a more tolerable position, Link released the tension in his shoulders, sinking into the soft mattress and Rito down. "Thanks," he sighed, his voice partially muffled by fabric and down. "Sorry about waking you."

"Nevermind that," Zelda chided, though could hardly maintain any measure of genuine frustration with him. Despite the day's expended energy demanding to be replenished, dragging her own body down, she wasn't quite finished yet. "Did Ernst give you anything? Pain elixirs?"

A soft grunt of affirmation was her reply. "I already took them." He lifted his head slightly. "He gave me a jar of safflina, but it's hard to apply, so I just gave up."

Hylia help her for the presumptuousness of her thoughts. Her fingers grabbed at her chemise sleeves nervously. "Well, um…could I help?"

Electric blue stared at her, dulled from exhaustion and pain, but still bright enough to pierce straight through her, the scant moonlight through the window illuminating his reddened face. But, after a moment, he let himself relax again, slumping his face down into the softest pillow. " I don't think I could stop you," he groaned.

She bit back a small laugh. "No, probably not," she said. "But it's still polite to ask."

He grunted vaguely in agreement, succumbing to the comfort of their work and the tiredness dragging his bones down.

With his assent, Zelda began her search for the safflina. Not that it was very hard to find, a jar of slightly orange, viscous gel beside empty elixir bottles scattered across the top of his dresser. As she popped open the jar, the scent of the safflina wafted over her, almost chokingly strong, and nearly burned her sinuses. Even the jar itself felt warm, and she wrapped her long sleeve around the glass to comfortably hold it.

Now came the difficult part. She could try to reach over him and spread the warming medicine, but from this angle, she'd have some difficulty doing so without accidentally putting pressure on his injuries. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she considered her options. And, despite her good sense warning against it, only one appeared the most likely to help more than hurt.

When the mattress sank under her weight, Link stirred a little, lifted his head to blink at her in confusion, but quickly gave up and slipped back into the comfortable void. Taking that as permission, Zelda shifted herself a little closer.

The salve was just as warm as she imagined, like holding her hand toward the kitchen fire behind their grate. Gingerly, hardly daring to put any pressure on him at all, she started to spread the safflina over the worst of his bruise. As expected, he immediately tensed, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth.

"Sorry!" Zelda whispered, quickly drawing her hand away.

"S'fine," Link grunted, his words barely reaching her through the thick pillows. "S'jus' hot."

She let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders started to lessen. "Do you want me to stop?"

Silence. He shifted slightly, trying to get a little more comfortable. Finally, he answered. "No, it helps."

With that encouragment, she took another small swipe of the safflina. Her hands had never been particuarly steady, often trembling from nervous energy. Any moment now, she expected him to wince, or tense, or ask her to stop. But, she got quite the opposite reaction. Even before she had treated him fully, his breathing evened out, sleep finally taking a hold of him.

She didn't know if it was just the lack of rest that allowed him to crash into sleep, or if what she was doing actually helped. But, when she screwed the top of the safflina jar back on, she hoped that it was the latter. And when she set the jar back on his dresser, she knew she should have gone back to her own room, sleeping the rest of the night in the peace of knowing that she'd eased his suffering just a little.

Yet, she couldn't possibly sleep. Knowing now the cost of his defense of her, how close he had been to death, how much his actions still hurt him and yet never complaining, Zelda couldn't abide to leave him. As silently as she could, she slipped back into her own room, grabbed her pillow and a soft blanket, and returned to his side.

She hesitated, holding the pillow close to her chest. He might wake up and be upset with her for staying in his space longer than necessary. It was rather presumptous of her to do any of what she had that night — starting with making a nuisance of herself in the infirmary because her curiosity got the better of her.

Her own words returned to her, accusations of baseless pride. "As the Princess and his wife, I ought to know of his condition." His wife. She'd used the title as if it mattered. Good enough for the medic, perhaps, but it would never convince anyone who knew better. After everything that happened today — which she hoped flew entirely over his head, but more realistically knew it couldn't have — she was more certain than ever that, if he wanted her, she would know that by now.

Weeks ago, she'd been in much the same spot. His back to her, his breathing steady, still lost to sleep. Weeks ago, she'd reached out to feel his heartbeat, hardly believing her own senses, that he really was there with her. It felt like a dream — a hazy, ridiculous sort of dream. Their last kiss, their only kiss, felt like a lifetime away. If she had known then, in that moment, that it would be Link who pulled the sword, she probably wouldn't have let him leave her chambers that night. She would have held him close and cried and laughed, relieved that the gods finally answered her prayers, finally blessed her with something wonderful, rather than continuing to curse and ignore her.

Tonight, she cried — silent, salty tears spilling down her cheeks. Guilt wormed through her heart, stinging the more she looked at the red arrow–scar. He could have died. Yiga arrowheads were cruel, serrated, and metal. Meant to pierce flesh and shatter bone. If it didn't fly all the way through their victim, removal was often more painful — sharp points like fishhooks, cutting even more when it came back out. She was kept on the other side of the Castle when they treated him. And, she recalled, they already removed the arrowhead by the time Mipha got there. She hoped that, maybe, he'd passed out by that point. Because, if not…she was glad they kept her on the other side of the Castle. She might have gone mad listening to him scream.

She shivered at the thought, trying to push it from her mind.

Her hero took an arrow for her, suffered for her, chose to save her instead of his fiancé, knowing in that moment that Princess Mipha could have been brutally slaughtered by the same cruel blades that had almost embedded into her chest. His family watched him get shot; his mother wailed, imagining her son dead or dying, the same thoughts that Zelda had.

She could never repay him for this. She owed him her life, several times over. He saved her from a Guardian. He saved her from the Yiga. And, most miraculous of all, he saved her from her father's decrees. Simply by being the hero, he saved her.

Perhaps that was why the sword chose him. Perhaps Aryll had a point. The hero had to face incredible challenges and insurmountable odds. Sorcerors, gods, demons, anything that threatened Hyrule. The sword, a material servant of Hylia, always chose someone who should have been more afraid than they were. She would have imagined that the sword simply took away its wielder's sense of self-preservation, determining the welfare of Hyrule and Hylia's line more important than his own. She began to wonder if the sword simply found the man who was already foolish enough to jump straight into danger to defend someone else. He didn't even know her when he grabbed Terrako, holding the little Guardian high, because he thought it might be dangerous.

Her own promise rang in her ears. He wouldn't die. She wouldn't let him die. Maybe she was the foolish one, thinking she could protect the man who was so determined to throw himself between her and death. It wasn't fair. He deserved to live a peaceful life — they both did.

Zelda gently combed through his hair, flaxen between her fingers. In some other life, they might have gotten that. If he had half the good fortune of his parents, in love and content in Hateno, he wouldn't be laying here with an arrow-scar in his back. Were she anyone but the princess, and he anyone but the hero, she would have liked to plant a garden with him. She could bake for him, like the women in her cozy novels did. She could have laughed and kissed him and welcomed him home every evening. They might have had a small home together, one they would build onto one room at a time to accommodate however many children Hylia blessed them with.

Were they anyone but themselves, they might have been in love.

She drew her hand away, letting it fall to her side. It was hardly fair to either of them. If the choice were hers alone, she would have slept here, beside him, from their wedding night onward. But, it was not. He refused to kiss her for the wedding photos. He hesitated to sleep beside her that first night, only relenting when she dragged him over.

She did not doubt his devotion. She did not doubt that he was loyal to her, that he cared deeply for her. But, he did not love her. Not like he loved Mipha.

She opened the door to her room, pausing only a moment to remind herself that he would still be there in the morning. The door stood open as she settled back into her own bed.

Whether he loved her or not, he was alive. Despite the Yiga's best efforts, they were both, somehow, still alive. The Calamity would certainly come, and the hero would rush in to fight it, and he would fail and die because she was the useless heir to a throne of nothing. But, that day wasn't here yet. Like a lamb waiting for the butcher's knife, he wasn't dead yet. For however long it lasted, however long she could listen, she would count his breaths and thank Hylia for all of them.

Notes:

So how many of you picked up on the left/right mentions in the last couple of chapters?