#This is another 6am oneshot that I forgot to post the day I wrote it

[deiliamedlini]

Thinking of You

Summary: Princess Zelda unlocked her powers in time to fight the Calamity, saving Hyrule and everyone in it, but it came with an unintentional consequence: a power that she never wanted came with being part Goddess. The power to read minds.

~BOTW Post Calamity Zelink AU ~

This fic spawned after my friend and I panicked while thirsting over a Youtuber because “omg what if he could read minds?” Yeah. So that’s why this exists. It’s just a manifestation of my irrational fear, apparently. 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 10867 (oops again) 

Ao3 link

Princess Zelda had prayed to the Goddess for years, begging for the sacred powers her bloodline demanded of her. She needed to seal away the Calamity, to save her friends, her family, and the Kingdom of Hyrule.

She’d been blessed in time to accomplish all those things.

But in many ways, Zelda wished that the Goddess had remained deaf to her.

She’d make the trade again, of course. A lifelong inconvenience on her part was more than fair to keep everyone in Hyrule safe, but even a Princess was allowed to have selfish thoughts once in a while.

Only now, she knew everyone’s selfish thoughts.

The Goddess’s spirit that had laid dormant in Zelda for years had awoken, and her powers were Zelda’s to command. But Zelda had forgotten one important thing: Hylia was said to be omniscient, all knowing, and an excellent judge of character.

Zelda now knew why.

In the months that had passed since the Calamity, she’d spent a solid amount of that time locked in her room, crying herself to sleep through the splitting pain in her head, the urges to scream, the desire to shut down and lock herself away for a hundred years. But then her servants would come in to bring her food or potions, and it would start all over again.

Millie walked in and set the tray down far from Zelda, but Millie’s voice was crisp and clear inside Zelda’s mind as Millie’s thoughts invaded Zelda’s mind.

She’s so selfish. The people need to see her, and all she does is hide. For the savior of Hyrule, she’s not even brave enough to face her kingdom.

“Thank you,” Zelda whispered, curling deeper under her blanket, pulling the end up across her face so she could block her ears, as if that ever actually helped. Their thoughts were inside her mind, and there was no blocking that out.

There were only two other people who knew about her newfound condition.

She’d had to tell her father, to explain why she so desperately needed her space and to be around as few people as possible. He’d been so pleased that Hylia’s spirit had awoken, that he’d never considered the consequences until she’d come to him in tears, repeating every thought that passed through his head as she clawed at her hair until he had to physically restrain her with a tight embrace.

That was the day she learned just how much her father truly loved her. His every thought was about her, her well-being, her health, her bravery, her courage, her wisdom, her powers, his pride, their past, his wife. It was all the things he’d never said to her aloud being screamed into her brain.

What have I done? he’d thought to himself.

Zelda had simply shaken her head. “It’s not your fault.”

He’d done his best to keep his thoughts to a minimum around her, thinking of a blank nothingness when she was around. She appreciated his effort, and while most of the time it worked, there were other times she’d still hear him.

She looks so frail.

Nothing. Nothing. Think of nothing.

I’m so sorry.

She’d often lie to him when he asked if it was working on his part. She knew he was trying, and she appreciated that more than anything. So, she’d told him yes, that she only rarely heard him think of something.

The only other person who’d been told was Impa. Impa was a warrior and an advisor to the throne, but now, she acted almost exclusively as someone who travelled the kingdom searching old Sheikah tombs and pestering scholars in the most innocent way to try to cure Zelda.

She’d return every few weeks to report her lack of progress, or to try some odd trick that inevitably didn’t work before she’d set out again.

So, Zelda was left with a constant migraine, ringing ears, an inability to focus, and a strong desire for sleep, when the thoughts she heard were solely her own.

One day, Rhoam knocked on his daughter’s door.

I need her. I can’t do this alone.

His thoughts set Zelda on edge, but she trudged to the door and cracked it open. “What do you need me to do?”

Rhoam’s mouth dropped in surprise for a moment. Sometimes, she still caught him off guard. “It’s your mother’s anniversary. You have to make an appearance.”

“There will be so many people, Father.”

I’m sorry.

“I’m sorry, Zelda. I need you. You’ll be Queen one day. We have to see if there’s a way to temper this ability.”

“I don’t want to test that theory in front of Hyrule.”

I’m sorry.

“I’ve made all the excuses I could for the past few months. People believe you’re dead, that the Calamity killed you and that we’ve been keeping it from the people. I just need an appearance from you, and then you can leave.”

Please.

Zelda sighed. “Is it today? I’ve lost track.”

“It is.”

“Okay. Fine. But I really can’t stay long.”

Thank you, Zelda.

“You’re welcome,” she said, closing the door to gift herself a few more hours of peace before all hell would break loose in her mind.

Her maids, Millie and Dorna, came in later that evening to help her dress. Zelda had lost a fair amount of weight since her powers, often nauseous from her headaches, and failing to eat. It made her far too thin.

Zelda used to like Millie; from her outward smile and positive attitude, she’d always thought that they’d gotten on well, until she could hear the spiteful girl’s thoughts.

I can’t believe she’s finally going to show her face. Look at her. She’s gotten so ugly. Now if I were Princess of Hyrule, I’d make sure I at least looked like I’d bathed recently.

Tiredly, Zelda glanced at the wet tub she’d only recently gotten out of, and ran a subconscious hand through her damp hair.

But Dorna, who had always been a woman of few words, was Zelda’s saving grace.

Poor thing. I can’t even imagine what she’s been through since the Calamity. That beast. I can’t even imagine. But look, she looks so beautiful. She looks like her mother in that dress. I should do her hair up the way I once styled the Queen’s. Oh, she’d be so proud.

A small smile spread on Zelda’s face as she kept herself tuned closer to Dorna’s thoughts, though Millie’s were a gnat in the background.

“You look beautiful,” Millie lied, mentally complaining about Zelda’s gaunt cheeks and how no makeup could save her.

“Yes, you do,” Dorna agreed, truly meaning it as she straightened out a wrinkle.

Zelda dismissed them, needing to get away from their thoughts before she made her way to the balcony that she needed to stand at for ten minutes, and then she was free.

Guards were no longer stationed outside her door, but at the bottom of the stairwell that led to her room, out of range for her to hear. If she focused, she was sure she could hear them like a whisper, but she didn’t want to make it any stronger if she could help it.

Still, she got to the stairs and was bombarded with the thoughts of soldiers and servants mulling around, laughing, loud both inside and out.

Oh, she was never going to get through this.

Backing away, she ducked down a hall and pushed open a door, feeling her head start to thud.

What?

Is that the Princess?

Looking up, Zelda saw that she’d barged straight into another occupied room, and she whispered an apology before staggering out the door.

“Oh!” she gasped, hitting someone in the hall, feeling hands steady her.

Zelda.

The voice in her mind was familiar. She was one of the few who got to hear him use it frequently. Many said he was quiet, but she had coaxed conversations from him until he offered them on his own.

She hadn’t seen him in months.

She’s safe. Thank the Goddess Jem was wrong.

“Princess,” Link breathed, letting go of her so he could bow.

“Link. It’s so good to see you again.”

“You as well, Princess,” he said, his eyes finally darting up to her. Oh, she’s been sick. That’s why she’s been gone. She’s looking thin. Maybe I could bring her a meal. What did we used to eat all the time? Steak tips?

Zelda smiled, genuine and excited as she grabbed his hand and tore him from his thoughts. “I mean it. I’ve missed you.”

Goddess, it hasn’t been enough time to rid myself of this crush. “I’ve missed you, Princess.”

Rubbing her thumb over his knuckle, she felt him stiffen.

Don’t think about her hand. Don’t even notice it. Don’t—

Zelda let him go, not wanting to distress him.

No! She let go.

“What have you been up to?” she asked, motioning for him to follow her down the empty hall. “It’s been so long since we spoke.”

“Since your father reassigned me, I’ve mostly been…”

Zelda tried to listen to him, but for once, she wasn’t distracted by his thoughts, but his appearance.

His eyes were still just as blue, just as piercing and focused, like a bird of prey soaring the skies. He was more muscular now, though still thin and lean. Their time together had been enjoyable, but not particularly strenuous in terms of exertion. Now that he was doing more ‘soldierly’ things, he’d gained more muscle.

Blonde hair tied back, as always, she thought his ponytail looked a little longer, and she wanted nothing more than to pull it down so she could see for herself.

The fading yellow of a bruise was under his eye, and there was a cut marring his lip. She wanted to ask what had happened, but his mouth moved so perfectly, his lips looking soft and inviting, and more tempting after months of avoiding him. She’d thought her attraction to him might have died down in her time sequestered, but seeing him in front of her had it all rushing back. She wanted to laugh at his jokes or antics again, or fall asleep to the sound of his breathing while he sat guard by the fire.

Why is she looking at me like that? Is there something on my mouth?

His tongue darted out, wetting his lip as he gently tested to see if he felt anything. It only had her more distracted, unable to say anything at all, or even acknowledge the story she hadn’t listened to.

Oh Goddess, her eyes. I’ve missed them.

This time, those eyes he was entranced by darted up to him, and she felt blush spread along her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Link, I believe I might have gotten distracted. Did you ask something?”

He stared at her for a moment longer, his thoughts lingering, before clearing his throat. “Yes, I asked if you wanted an escort.”

She looped her arm around his, enjoying the way his thoughts scrambled at her touch. “Are you back at the castle permanently?”

Outwardly, he was the perfect soldier whose face betrayed nothing. “Permanent is so binding. I’m here for a while.”

“Good. We’ll have to meet up on a day when I’m not required.”

I’d love that. “I’d like that.”

Zelda kept guiding him to empty halls, taking the long route. Link noticed, though he didn’t say anything.

For a while, he was blissfully blank, thinking nothing specific enough for her to hear. But when she felt his eyes peeking at her, his thoughts erupted.

Should I say something? Should I tell her she looks beautiful? That’s going too far; it’s been months. She probably doesn’t want to hear that from me. Everyone must tell her. Goddess, I want to tell her. Should I? No. No, she probably doesn’t even feel comfortable around me anymore.

Link stayed quiet, and Zelda struggled to find a way to set him at ease, but she couldn’t find any as her anxiety rose with every passing step until they both stopped just shy of the door.

He bowed low, always aware of her, of who she was and what she meant. Even the way he bowed had a meaning behind it, and he associated a low bow with her; the lower the bow, the more respect it showed to that person.

“Wait!” she said suddenly, and he looked expectantly at her. “Come with me? Be my appointed knight to help me through this?”

Her knight. The words played over and over in his mind, and Zelda bit her lip, never really understanding that he felt just as strongly about her, even after all this time, as she did for him.

He smiled and nodded. “Of course, Princess.”

With a deep breath, she put a shaking hand on the door handle and pushed it open. From there, every step she took across the long room towards her awaiting father had her head pounding again.

At first, it was a low hum, a murmur like boiling water over a stove. But the closer she got, the louder it became until the murmur became shouts. Thousands of shouts. Different topics, different thoughts, nothing discernable. It was worse than being trapped in a crowd, ringing her head like she’d been stuck inside the bell of a tower.

She could feel herself start to sweat already, holding her breath to try to stop the pain, as if that could somehow work.

Rhoam spoke to her, but she heard nothing, so he simply guided her to the railing with him while he began his speech.

Zelda shook as her head felt like it was about to implode. Tears welled in her eyes, and she didn’t even care when she lurched forward for something to hold on to. The sunlight blinded her, felt like her eyes were burning and disintegrating. Her ears rang at the highest pitch until there was nothing left to hear. Her stomach rolled.

The voices were so loud, like taking a sword to her brain and just pounding down on it repeatedly. Her soft, pained whimpers turned into a long hum that distracted Rhoam for a moment to check on her before placing a hand on her arm that she couldn’t feel.

She tried to fight it. She really did.

Stumbling backwards, she pressed into the wall, needing to feel its support to keep her on her feet. There was nothing but pain, and she was sure she was about to die.

With her eyes shut tight, she started to sob, her whole body convulsing.

Time moved differently while she was in pain, and the voices got louder, panicked even.

But she came to her senses only long enough to see that she was no longer on the balcony, but on the floor inside the room, cradled by Link as he listened to instructions given by Rhoam. There were still no outside voices, so she couldn’t hear what he said. And his thoughts were lost in the sea of others, Link’s too.

She only vaguely felt Link’s arms slide under her legs as she dug her face into his neck, her arms tightening around his neck as she needed to feel anything that wasn’t the pain. And he was familiar and safe, even if her skin didn’t register much just yet.

He was whispering something. She could see his lips move, but her head throbbed so hard, she was sure she was going to die. Panic seized her, and she tensed, her fingers clenching hard, her toes kicking free of her heels because she needed to cross her ankles. She needed to be tight, to curl up, to feel safe as death tugged at her and urged her towards it with the promise of a release from her torment.

It was the bounce of her mattress that told her they had stopped. Some feeling was returning to her with the loss of the crowd’s thousand voices, but the damage was done, and her head was exploding still.

But she could feel Link slide himself onto her bed and pull her with him, keeping her clutched against him. The feeling wasn’t gone yet, so she tightened again, balling up into him, her legs curling under his so there was something she could grasp.

His breath tickled her ear as she finally felt his cheek pressed against hers, whispering calming words in her ear. She could catch his tone, but the words themselves made no sense, like he was speaking a language she didn’t know. His hand was supporting her head, and she was grateful, because her limbs suddenly slackened, and she relied on him not to let her collapse onto the mattress. His other hand rubbed soothing circles on her back.

The pain was still there, but rather than feeling like an axe hacking at a log repeatedly, it only felt like the axe had lodged itself into the wood, and there it stayed.

Finally, she could tell that she was shaking, her whole body convulsing. Her voice was still a high-pitched whine that she couldn’t stop. But her eyes cleared enough to see that Link’s shirt was ruined. It was drenched with her tears, and stained by blood.

Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, and she tasted the blood on her. And sniffing, she could feel that it had come from her nose.

Link’s voice started to turn back from sounds to words being whispered in her ear. They ranged from him telling her she was okay, to him breathing out a shhh to try to calm her. She didn’t even notice that he was rocking with her.

He stopped when he felt her stir for the first time. “Zelda?”

Raw and sore, she managed to make her throat groan once in acknowledgement, though she’d stopped the pained sounds from spilling.

“What happened? No, don’t even answer that. Are you okay? I mean really, grand scheme of things; are you okay?”

Was she?

His thoughts were still quiet as her brain tried to process and recover.  She couldn’t answer. She didn’t know.

“I’m cold,” she managed to choke out, pressing into him with what little strength she’d regained.

Holding her tighter, he leaned to the bottom of the bed and pulled a folded comforter up and draped it around her before sliding away to replace himself with the pillows beneath her.

She fisted his shirt to stop him. She didn’t want pillows. She wanted Link.

“Don’t go. Please.”

She almost wished she could hear his thoughts in the long stretch of silence, but she didn’t mind it. The recovery was a reprieve. She’d felt this before, at the beginning, when she’d been around crowds. Everyone’s intrusive thoughts would return.

Link’s hand smoothed back her hair. “Okay. Let me just get a wet cloth for you. You were bleeding.”

“No.”

“I’m coming right back. I’m not even leaving the room, okay?”

The cold left behind without him against her had her ducking into the blanket even more, turning into the pillows as hard as she could.

He was right though, returning only seconds later. He knelt on the floor by the bed and coaxed her face up towards him, first running the cloth around her sweating face, and lingering on her neck before taking care under her nose and around her ears. The cloth came back red, and Zelda watched him toss it behind him into the washbowl before running a hand through her hair again.

“I should get a physician for you.”

She shook her head and pulled his hand away from her hair to tug it.

Receiving the message loud and clear, he slid back onto the bed and looped his arm around her while she moved against him, her face back in the crook of his neck.

It wasn’t the first time they’d stayed like this. Before the Calamity, they’d found themselves in this position several times, either on the road under the stars, stolen moments at an inn with the knowledge that no one would barge in on them, or even in a recovery bed.

His hand traced a light pattern up and down the arm she had draped across his chest.

“Months pass since the Calamity, and the day I see you again, you look like you’re dying in my arms. You scared me, Zelda.”

She loved the sound of her name on his lips. He only called her that when he was sure they were safe, opting for Princess every other time.

Her hand knew exactly where to go, resting on his abdomen where below his shirt was a massive scar.

“We’re even,” she whispered.

Link nodded, rocking the bed slightly. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

He kept up the pattern on her arm even as her leg wrapped around his and she dragged them closer.

Link chuckled and sat up. “Hang on, greedy.” Adjusting the comforter off her shoulders, he moved it so their legs were covered, and he pulled it back up so she could tuck it under her chin. They’d had to hide their closeness in the past, and he was surprised just how easily they fell back into patterns that they hadn’t followed in months.

Despite it all, neither had confessed a single feeling to each other, nor had they kissed each other properly. Forehead, cheek, hand. That was all.

Zelda sighed against him, her eyes heavy and burning from the lingering pain and from crying.

Link knew her well. “Rest your eyes if you want. I’ve got you.”

Nodding against him, she already felt herself starting to doze. “My knight,” she said, attempting humor, though it came out as little more than a wistful sigh.

He hummed and wrapped his fingers through hers, bringing her palm to his lips to press a long kiss into it before dropping their arms back down, not letting go. “Always, Princess.”

Sleep was blissfully peaceful. She was warm and comfortable, being held by the person she trusted most in the world, though he didn’t quite know why she needed his presence to soothe her, only knowing that, as it had done for him in the past, they were each other’s comfort.

Zelda jerked awake, but kept her eyes closed.

“No, don’t get up!” her father’s voice said quickly, and she felt her and Link settle back down. “Is she sleeping?”

Is she okay? I don’t like him being in her bed. But she looks calm now, at least.

Zelda wanted to groan, but she kept quiet, knowing that if she moved now with her father around, Link would surely untangle them.

“Yes. She fell asleep a little while ago.”

Goddess Zelda. You scared me.

Rhoam sighed, and she heard his heavy footsteps. My Zelda. I’m so sorry this is happening to you. His hand smoothed her hair back.

Zelda could feel Link tense up beneath her, his arm tightening a fraction as thoughts raced through his mind. He’s going to know. He’s going to send me back to Hateno, away from Zelda.

“Your shirt is a mess,” Rhoam said.

“It’s dried now. I’ll change later.”

Rhoam let out a begrudging noise. I don’t like him in bed with her. I shouldn’t have told him not to get up. Look at their hands.

“Your Majesty,” Link whispered, before Zelda could think to pretend that she needed to adjust and unlace their fingers that still rested together across his chest. “May I ask what happened?”

Goddess, she scared me. I can’t lose her. And Goddess, he’s staring at our hands. If I don’t die from this, it’ll be a miracle.

“Since the Calamity, well, since awakening her powers, Zelda has been… unwell. I have people looking into a way to ease her burden, but so far it’s without success. It can… cause her great pain.”

Unwell? Link thought, pulling her closer, heedless of Rhoam’s presence. He didn’t realize just how careless he’d gotten in his concern until he felt himself let go of her hand so he could run his knuckles along her cheek. Hylia, take her pain. Please. That was… she feels that? And you’re her benevolent spirit? You let her go through that pain? Give it to me, if someone needs to feel it. Just not her.

Rhoam cleared his throat, and Link realized his slip, pulling his hand back and resting it awkwardly away from her.

Smitten. How long, I wonder? I don’t like it. I don’t like his comfort. I don’t like his hand on her. And I don’t like him in her bed.

“Link, you’re close with Zelda.” It wasn’t a question, but Link nodded. “I would like you to keep an eye on her. Forget your other duties; I want you back as her appointed knight for the time being. I don’t see any physical threats, but I want someone…” someone who loves her, “someone we both trust to be with her for now. She shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

“Is there anything I can do for her?”

“Be there.”

Link’s grip tightened again. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Rhoam let out a long, hard sigh. I don’t like him in her bed. “She looks… peaceful. I’d hate to disturb her. Are you okay with staying here for the night?” Goddess, I hate this. I hate him in her bed. I hate the way he looks at her. “If you’re alright with that. No obligation to.” No. I don’t hate it. I hate him in her bed, but he looks at her with the devotion I’d want for her. I should have seen it before.

Link nearly choked. “Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll stay.”  And not be strung up for being in Zelda’s room while she’s asleep? Yeah, I’ll take it.

“Okay. Take care of her.”

“Always.”

Rhoam’s thoughts scattered, half a groan, half a bombardment of thoughts of a wedding, of a life, before he pushed them down.

Zelda heard the door shut, and Link rubbed her back. “Do you want me to stay?”

She grinned and sat up slightly, just enough that she could look him in the eyes, though her vision was blurry. “You could tell I was up?”

“I know you.” I want to know more.

Pulling herself up a bit, Zelda cupped the side of his face with her hand and pressed a bleary kiss into his cheek, too long to be mistaken for a simple friendly gesture. And when she pulled away, he mimicked her, pulling her close, pressing his lips closer to her lips than she’d dared. I’d do it if this was any other situation, he thought, his top lip teasing hers before he decided against it and instead moved down her jaw to leave a featherlight trail towards her ear until his nose brushed against her. I love you.

Zelda’s heart was already pounding, but hearing those words made it skip and flutter so hard that she arched into him.

Well, that’s a reaction, he mused as his thoughts shifted to the way she felt against him. She swallowed hard as she heard his inner admiration for her body and it had her burning. All she could do without letting on though, was to curl as close to him as she possibly could, letting her hand find his skin, letting it burn them both.

“Your father basically gave me permission for this,” he joked to relieve some of the tension he felt as she slid her hand under his shirt to wrap around him. His thoughts were either raging at the thought of her hand trailing all over him, or it was just blank and broken, his focus on things that couldn’t be put into words.

“We’ve never needed permission.”

He chuckled and nodded.

Should I? Would she let me? I can’t. Not now. Later. But how far would she let me… I need more of her.

When he didn’t move, she traced his skin with her fingertip to encourage him to do whatever he was thinking. He tensed beneath her, and she heard him steel himself before his hand slipped his hand into a geometric hole in the back of her dress until he’d left a burning trail all the way up her spine to rest.

She shuddered and sighed. He’d never go for it, she knew, but if she thought he would, she’d welcome his touch everywhere. She needed him. She wanted him.

Shit, he practically moaned in his mind. But aloud, he chuckled and pulled her against him tighter, his leg tugging her as his arms sucked her in.

“You need to sleep,” he whispered, pushing her hair back again.

I’ve been deprived of her for months. I don’t think I’ll be able to let go.

“Link,” she tried, but he moved his hand from her hair to her cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

“We’ll talk about all this in the morning. Just get some rest, Zelda. Do you want to get under the other blanket?”

“No,” she said, worming her way closer, her head back where it fit perfectly against him. “You’re warm enough.”

They’d talk about this all tomorrow.

Maybe even about what was wrong with her.

~~~~~~~~

Zelda woke up to a cold, empty bed. Her hand felt around before her eyes open, seeing if Link was still there, but she figured he must have left in the night, preserving her decency and decorum. Maybe he even went somewhere to meet with her father so he’d know.

Before the Calamity, Zelda had been in Gerudo Town with Urbosa, celebrating being alive still with a few Noble Pursuits. She’d woken the next morning feeling terrible, and, at Urbosa’s orders, she’d drank water all day while she stayed in the relative quiet to relieve her pounding head.

This was somewhat like that day.

Her head was throbbing in a different way than last night, a residual pain rather than a new one, and she groaned. Even the thoughts inside her head were loud, and she struggled to force them down.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear her name repeated again and again, and she shook her head to push the chastising reminder away. She got the message from her mind.

Pushing the blanket off of her, she groaned, fiddling with the dress that she still wore. She didn’t hear Link at all, so she was fairly confident he’d gone, so she pulled the zipper down and stepped out of the outfit, holding it up and thanking the geometric cutouts that had allowed Link access to her skin.

Remembering last night was somewhat like being drunk all over again. She could remember bits of what they’d said to each other, though the pain had shut down some of her memories, and she forgot other pieces of their conversation.

Leisurely taking her time to change, she pulled her leggings on, and her white shirt. Though she debated adding the blue over the top, she decided against it and instead tied her large brown belt on over the white, grabbing her boots from the corner and sliding into them. She’d go to find Link. He would be around, and perhaps he could escort her to Hyrule Field for some air and some peace. Her father would likely allow it, and maybe she could tell Link what had happened.

Shit. Shit!

Zelda spun around towards the door. It was Link’s thought, she knew, but it was loud and stressed out. Cautiously opening the door, she was surprised to find that he wasn’t there.

There was no way… right?

Moving from her antechamber to her lounge, she saw no sign of him.

“Link?” she called, passably curious since he’d stayed the night, not because she couldn’t follow his thoughts to where he was.

Oh, shit! Zelda!

A moment later, she heard the creaking door that lead to the small room the chamber pot was kept in.

His eyes landed on her immediately, and his face began to flush.

She’s dressed. How long was she awake? Oh shit, she’ll figure it out.

“I was just…” he pointed to the room before slamming the door behind him. “Sorry.”

Mouth agape, Zelda had to walk across the room, away from him so she could hide her burning red face. There were few reasons he’d be embarrassed to be found in there after so long, and from the trajectory his thoughts were taking as he watched her walk, she had a feeling she knew which it was.

“It’s fine,” she choked out, beyond grateful that he couldn’t read her mind.

She didn’t know why she was over here, so she grabbed a book at random. “I was going to find you,” she said, flipping aimlessly through the pages until her face calmed down and then set it back.

Link waited patiently. Of course he was patient, because his mind sure wasn’t. It was occupied by an internal fight with himself about his guilt over admiring the way her leggings hugged her body, and his respect for her as more than just the Princess.

Oh wow, he thought, his mind abruptly distracted. I like that statue. Is that Sheikah? Would she think it’s weird if I went over to it? It looks kind of weird. Is it stone? Carved stone? No! She was talking to you. Did she say something? It’s quiet. Oh man, I didn’t hear her, didn’t I?

Zelda lost her train of thought. Had she asked him a question? It was so easy to forget when everyone else’s thoughts invaded her own.

This is awkward.

“Um, Princess? Are you feeling better than last night? You look better.”

“Oh, yes, much. Thank you. It’s still, you know… but it’s not as bad by any means.”

Pushing her hair back, she shook her head at her awkwardness before taking a seat on the soft couch.

After briefly assessing that statement, Link’s thoughts went quiet. She looked up at him and fidgeted with her hands. “Thank you. For staying last night.”

“Anytime,” he said.

Zelda pursed her lips and fought back a grin. “Is that so?”

“I-I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant!”

His thoughts started to spiral, and Zelda laughed, unable to help herself. She had to tease him, to coax some of his frantic thoughts out of his mind and to his lips. “So you won’t sleep with me if I ask?”

“No! I will!”

“Oh, you will?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Get it together, Link!

“I meant to say that I’ll stay with you for the night to sleep, if ever you want.”

That’s good. That’s clear, right?

“What if I wanted you to come back tonight? Would you?”

And his thoughts were gone once again as he stared at her, dumbstruck until gradually he made himself function again.

Is she flirting with me? Just teasing me? Playing a game? I’d sleep in here every night if she’d let me, but that’s probably not the smartest thing to say.

Zelda smiled a little wider at his thoughts. And wider still as they changed to a less than innocent scenario.

“Yes,” he finally muttered, embarrassed by where his thoughts had gone so quickly. Is she actually asking? Goddess Hylia, send me some help.

“Great. I’ll see you tonight then,” she said, just to clarify for him. “I have something I want to talk to you about. About me.”

“Are you okay?”

She was saved from needing to answer by a knock on her door, suddenly aware of her father saying her name again and again so she’d know it was him.

As Zelda headed straight for the door, Link moved to stop her. “Do you always answer your door for just anyone? What if it’s Yiga? You don’t even ask?”

“It’s just my father; calm down, worry wart.”

“How do you know?”

Zelda stopped, her hand hovering over the handle. Not like she could say she could hear his thoughts.

“I recognize his footsteps.”

What? That’s not safe in the slightest. I might need to tell her about the growing Yiga threats so she’ll be more careful.

Yiga threats? Even after the Calamity?

She bit her lip, so desperate to bring it up, but knowing that there was no smooth transition to it right now. So instead, she opened her door.

Rhoam stepped inside, his thoughts quiet until he noticed Link just behind her. Does he know about you yet?

Zelda shook her head as she led her father back to the couch.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked Zelda aloud, gesturing for Link to be at ease around him in the meantime.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We have a contingent staying around for a few days, and the guest quarters are in this wing. I was going to suggest you perhaps stay in Kakariko with Impa to get some fresh air while they’re here.”

They’ll be loud, and Impa will know where you can stay in peace.

“Yes, that would be nice,” Zelda said, glaring at the door. Her father had done a lot to keep guests away from staying over, but when they did, she’d often find somewhere else until they were gone so that so many thoughts in one place, constantly going, didn’t send her into a pained fit.

She’ll need protection. Any objections if Link makes a temporary return as your Appointed Knight?

“Link?” Zelda asked, turning to him. He’d been distracted, but still listening, and now, entirely attentive. “Would you mind accompanying me, like old times?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all. I’d be honored.”

Oh yes, I clearly detest the time I get to spend alone on the road with just you. She knows she doesn’t have to ask.

It was true. She knew she didn’t really need to. Before the Calamity, all she had to do was bat her eager eyes at him and he’d melted. She didn’t need to read minds to know that. He’d eaten a frog for her, after all. Or rather, for science. He’d even gone in for it raw before she’d stopped him.

Maybe that was the day she’d started to turn her feelings from friendly affection to something more.

She’d been so caught up in her memories of the days they spent together before she’d unlocked her powers, before this constant throbbing pain in her skull, that she hadn’t heard a single thought of Link’s the entire time they’d been riding on the road.

Their destination was Kakariko, but it was a bit aimless, so they took their time, riding at a snail’s pace, catching up on what Link had been doing for the past few months while she’d been holed up.

He told her of his adventures and missions, and she marveled at just how far he’d come as a leader since the Calamity. She’d held him back as her knight, demanding his attention when it was clearly better used elsewhere. Even hearing his thoughts, ranging from what gory or boring details to leave out of his story, to how he wished he were her appointed knight again, Zelda couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d lost nearly a year’s worth of progress in his career because of her.

With clear blue stretching across the sky, Zelda suggested they take the ferry near Riverside Stable to cross Hylia River so they could spend some time at Batrea Lake. It was rare that Zelda got to simply enjoy her surroundings, especially while they were outside her room, and Link had a blissfully peaceful mind. It was either empty, like he were simply so entranced by nothing that it occupied him, or he was looking around for danger.

For a short part of their ride, Link tried to convince Zelda that they should stay at Riverside Stable, but Zelda adamantly refused to be near anyone else, especially at a stable and inn where other minds would be running wild with the boredom before sleep.

He’d offered to ride through the night with her if she really wanted to get to Kakariko, and though that was tempting for the safety Kakariko offered, it was even louder than a stable. So, like they’d done many nights in their past, their decision had simply been to pitch their tent under the stars and use the bedrolls they’d packed, expecting at least one night in Hyrule Field before reaching Kakariko.

Zelda hung back when Link paid the fee for the ferry, and then he watched Zelda curiously as she refused to follow him while he boarded their horses for the night. She could hear his suspicion and confusion loud and clear, but she’d simply sat down on the raft and waited for his return.

Link unfurled the rope and pushed the small boat into the river, letting the current carry them across.

It was slow enough that Zelda began to play with the glove on her hand to cover her Triforce. They were dressed in their normal Hylian clothes rather than royal finery or uniforms, so her hidden mark stayed secretly buried under the fingerless leather.

With a sigh, she watched the water for a time before Link started to think to himself, dipping his hand experimentally into the water.

Could I swim upstream? Doubtful. Maybe that’s what I should try to do next. But maybe… maybe I’ll try a calmer river to start. Who would be stupid enough to come with me? Maybe Hal. Oh, look at that rock! I wonder if it tastes like rock, or like water now. I kind of want to test it, but Zelda would have me locked up for insanity if I licked a rock in the middle of a river. Yeah, putting it that was makes it sound stupid. Well, it probably is.

Zelda kept her mouth covered with the crook of her elbow, watching Link covertly while he was distracted, his brow furrowed as he stared at the one single rock that jutted out from the water. His hands fiddled with the straps on one of their things, thumbing it absently as if it brought him comfort.

When they arrived on the other side, Link tied it up and secured the rope for the night. They planed to just camp on the west bank of Batrea Lake, so they had the few items that they didn’t want to leave behind, such as their bedrolls.

They worked in relative silence to set up their tent and fire, preparing for the night as the sun began to set. Zelda did the tent, while Link took the fire, as they used to do.

It was familiar to be with him again, as if their separation hadn’t even happened at all. If she closed her eyes and ignored her powers, she could pretend that this was one of their nights when Link would sit by the fire until his weary eyes forced him asleep, and Zelda would do her best to keep watch. She could feel Link’s head on her lap still, and she could feel his soft hair run through her fingers while he’d slept. She hoped he would fall asleep like that tonight.

Once their camp had been set up, they indulged in a moment of peace overlooking the sunset lake, orange ripples form the light breeze, reflections of the trees from the pristine water, even a fish or two visible from the disturbance in the water that brought attention to the contrasting red and blue scales of the fish.

It was peaceful as she watched the sun slowly dip towards the horizon, her thoughts mirrored in Link’s mind as well. Just seeing a sunset was a relief after the Calamity, and since she’d locked herself in her rooms, her view of the sky had been sorely obstructed.

“Link?” she asked after a long while of comfortable silence. “Do you mind if I…” she gestured to the spot immediately beside him, closer than they were already sitting.

Do I mind? he scoffed internally, though he simply nodded and hummed his permission aloud.

She scooted closer, wrapping her arm through his and threading their fingers together. Though she longed to rest her head against him, to use him like the soft pillow she knew he could be, she had to resist the urge.

Goddess, she’s beautiful.

Zelda turned to see Link unabashedly watching her with a soft smile playing across his lips.

“What?” she laughed, curious what kind of answer he’d give her.

“I just missed you. Us. Out here like this. It’s just like how we were before the Calamity.”

“We were slightly more stressed out.”

“Oh, absolutely. Impending doom can do that to a person.”

“We’re a good team.”

He nodded, giving into temptation by allowing his free hand to brush her hair away from her face, though it really didn’t need fixing. “We are.”

Oh, thank the Goddess that he couldn’t hear her mind as her skin burned from his touch, her cheeks on fire, and her heart racing as if he’d left her with a breathless kiss rather than a simple touch.

When the sun had passed the horizon and the sky darkened, Link moved away to stoke the fire while Zelda watched the moonlight play over the water.

With him farther away, she felt a little more courageous than before. “I have something I want to tell you about,” she said quickly so she couldn’t talk herself out of it.

“I’m all ears,” he said, attentive, but also focused on the flames, not hearing the urgency behind her words.

She could hear distant thoughts that she couldn’t make out, and pushed them from her mind, getting distracted as she attempted to decipher them. One of her many drawbacks, she knew. Easily distracted. Easily losing her train of thought.

“Um, maybe… maybe we should eat first. Is there food?” she looked over her shoulder, staring at the sticks dug into the ground that held their meal over the flames to cook.

“Soon.”

Her head had begun to ache, so she stood up to lean against the nearest tree, pressing her forehead into the bark as if the physical pain could stop the internal one.

There!

There!

Closing her eyes, she tried to keep her focus on the water.

God, she’s got curves. What I wouldn’t give to—

Well, that was unlike Link, she thought, turning towards him in surprise.

But his attention was still on the fire, his thoughts distracted by the color and the flicker of the flames.

Stop moving, moron. You’ll get us found out and killed.

Did I bring everything?

Don’t trip. Don’t trip. Don’t trip.

Ugh. Is… is that string in my mouth? Where’s my knife?

Is he getting his knife now? Did I miss something?

Those weren’t Link’s thoughts.

Zelda felt her breathing speed up at the overlapping voices, and instinctually, she looked around, panicked.

Did she see us?”

Oh shit.

Maybe if those morons weren’t moving so much…

Duck! Duck! Duck!

It wasn’t me!

Shakily rising to her feet, she kept her eyes on the grass in front of her as she lightly walked back towards Link and the fire.

Good, she was just moving.

Stay still moron!

Lord Ganondorf, we seek your power and approval as we approach the—

“Link,” Zelda said, crouching beside him.

He turned to her, his eyes widening. Oh, she’s close. Goddess, her eyes are… wrong. Something’s wrong. “What is it, Princess?” Cautiously, he glanced around.

Stopping him from making a scene as efficiently as she could, Zelda got comfortable beside him and pushed a piece of his hair back, the same way he’d done to her earlier. He froze, and she heard his thoughts scramble a bit. “Link, I need to tell you something incredibly important, but you can’t react. How much do you trust me?”

More than anything. “A lot. What’s happening?”

Are they together, together?

She smiled to keep up appearances, despite her terror, and Link’s mind went straight to her lips before he waited, confused but patient. She scooted closer and played with a loose strand of his hair by his ear so she could whisper. “There are Yiga here.”

Before anything else, his hand snaked around her waist, tight and tense. Shit, shit. Where? How did I miss them? There’s here, watching. It’s why she’s so close to me. They have to be close enough to read lips. Where? Bushes, trees, path, water. Idiot. I should have paid better attention. “Where are they? Did you see them?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see, but, please, trust me. They’re here. They can see us.”

His eyes scanned the area, before he turned into her hand. Hide my mouth. Hide my mouth. He turned her palm over and pressed his lips to it, though it wasn’t a kiss. His eyes were vigilant over her shoulder. “How many?”

She shuddered at the touch of his lips, but she could read his intent clearly, and it wasn’t instigating romance.

Easy distraction. We strike them when they’re vulnerable.

If I was that lucky son of a bitch, I’d already have her on her back so I could get right at—

Is that really an ant?

Four distinct voices that she could tell.

“I believe four. Maybe more, but four at minimum.”

“And they’re watching us right now?”

“Yes.”

Why wouldn’t they strike yet? What are they waiting for? Where are they? Princess Zelda can see them, so why can’t I? What are they—they’re waiting for us to be distracted. So let’s be distracted.

He pulled Zelda closer, twisting them so he had a new angle behind her to check.

He’s going to see us. Move, move!

Zelda wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with his hair so she could get close to his ear once again. “You’re facing them. They’re going to move.”

How does she know? “I thought you didn’t—” Oh shit, she’s a good actress. That feels good. Focus!

His head tilted back subconsciously as Zelda caressed his skin. She was being self-indulgent at the worst time, but her body knew that Link was never going to let her this close to him again, especially if he felt they were in this situation because of his lack of vigilance.

All her focus went into stopping her hand so Link could focus. Because she didn’t want to be killed. She had her sealing powers, but they weren’t a weapon. Perhaps she could blind them, but that would harm Link as well.

“Just trust me, they’re there.”

Something’s wrong. He’s just staring. Can he see us?

Oh, move!

Zelda sat back and scooted over so it could be assumed he was simply staring at her, perhaps in awe.

What an idiot. He’s got that practically straddling him, and he’s just going to look at her? I’d have her on my lap so fast—

—shit. I think I see them.

Zelda turned to Link expectantly, feeling his hand tighten on her waist. Even if she couldn’t hear his thoughts, she’d know. Because before the Calamity, she grew to know him.

His thoughts were wild and hard to follow, half baked plans and strategies whirling around all at once until he seemed to settle on one. But his mind quickly turned to Zelda. She could get hurt. No. Impossible. I won’t let her. His eyes settled on hers. “How much do you trust me?”

“More than anything,” she muttered, using the same words he’d thought about her.

It was enough to blank out his mind for a moment, thoughts fragmented as her name came through several times, though it wasn’t fully formed as his stream of consciousness was.

He helped her up, taking her hand in his as he led her away. “I saw something earlier that I think you’d like,” he said, much louder than his normal volume.

Why is it never a bear? It just had to be Yiga, Link thought, his grip on her tightening. She deserves better than to live with these assholes haunting her. She’s trembling. I can feel it. I’ll kill them all.

Follow them!

Ouch! What did I step on?

Idiot.

I’d kill these three myself just to shut them up.

Zelda whimpered as the voices overlapped again and again. Link’s thoughts were running wild as he analyzed his surroundings in such detail, and the Yiga following them were doing the same. Her head throbbed, and the whine that came from her throat was accidental, but it caught Link’s attention.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, listening to his thoughts as his eyes raked over her body, looking for wounds or injuries that she might be hiding for his benefit. Because the sounds she was making were pained, and he could read her like a book most days.

She already knew what gratuitous thoughts Link had of her body on a normal day, but he had the ability to compartmentalize, a skill that loud Yiga didn’t possess as his thoughts made comments on her walk and sway while they followed through the bushes, his attention far to rapt. And while she warmed up when Link had those thoughts, she shivered when this Yiga had them.

“They’re so close,” she whispered desperately, leaning into his arm so he could listen to her words.

“I know. I can hear them now.”

He was so focused that she couldn’t get any read on his thoughts, but she did trust him more than anything, so she simply held on tighter.

Go!

Got him!

“Link!”

Link had his sword out before she’d even finished calling his name, using the surprise to his advantage and taking the first Yiga down without a second thought.

He spun his sword expertly in his hand, a taunt, while keeping Zelda in his other. With three opponents, he wasn’t going to let her be anywhere other than directly at his side.

But when he’d brought the first Yiga down, the others had panicked, their thoughts screaming louder than the roar of Calamity Ganon. Even Link was thinking so much, his attention on every detail.

It was too much. The pounding threatened to split her head open, and she collapsed to her knees, forcing her hand from Link’s so she could clutch her head, letting out a high pitched noise of pure pain.

Link moved so he was directly over her just before a vicious sickle attempted to strike at her.

—if I go left!

—that way we can—

—he’d just move—

—but I can’t see what—

—Zelda is—

—by the side of the—

—some Goddess—

—unworthy—

—kill them both then—

—got him!

Zelda’s head shot up, trying to sort the voices, or to at least hear a full sentence. At this point, she couldn’t even tell when they were Link’s thoughts, or the Yiga’s. But there was one standing just behind Link, long sword raised, and Zelda’s hand shot out, sending a burst of power at him, knocking the weapon straight out of his hands, and blinding him.

Link spun and took advantage of Zelda’s help.

She wished her magic was offensive. But even when she’d shut down the rampaging Guardians with her power, she’d simply deactivated them, not destroyed them. The Goddess’ magic wasn’t a tool for power, but an instrument of defense.

It was too much again, and Zelda cradled her head at the furious screams inside.

Goddess only knows how long she sat there, her heart thudding desperately to break free of her chest. But soon, it was silent, and through the pain, all she could feel were Link’s hands on her shoulders.

He was saying something that she couldn’t hear just yet, and she felt him guide her chin up to look at him. His face was contorted with concern, and he wiped his thumb under her nose revealing a streak of red. Almost subconsciously, her tongue darted out and confirmed that the blood was hers, dripping from her nose to her lips, so she sniffed it in.

Link pulled her up, hugging her close to him as they headed back to the fire.

His rough hands were on her neck, stroking her skin in an effort to get her attention.

The world was still blurry, but she pressed her palms into her eyes and rubbed them into focus, like someone waking up from sleep might do.

“Can we go in the tent?” she asked softly.

Nodding, Link helped her inside and set her down on her bedroll before kneeling beside ger again.

Warmth flooded through Zelda, and she held her hand out, letting the light engulf the tent. Sealing powers were meant to keep things in, and other things out. As long as they were in the tent now, with her magic forming a fortified and impenetrable barrier to allow them some peace, she finally sighed and began to hear some of Link’s thoughts. Most of them were simply concern for her, realization of what she’d just done, or reflecting on what a poor job he’d done with their security.

“Link,” she sighed, pulling at his arm. “What happened?”

“Two of them took the others and ran. You’re safe. I think. Are you okay?” he asked, this time grabbing a cloth from their bag to clean the bloodied underside of her nose.

“No.”

“We can head back. Straight to the Castle or Kakariko. Ride with me, I’ll get us there; wherever you want.”

“I can’t go to either place right now. There’s too many people.”

“What?”

“I need to tell you something. Not tomorrow, but now. Something only my father and Impa know, and something you have to swear to keep a secret.”

“On the Goddess’s soul,” he said seriously. I’d sooner let everyone in Hyrule die than betray you or your trust.

Her head was still hurting. What she really needed was to sleep. To just let her heavy eyes close and sleep it off as she always did.

She could tell that soon enough, when there was peace in his frantic mind once again, he’d ask questions of her that she couldn’t lie through.

How did she know everything, for a start.

Sliding under the blanket of her bedroll so she had something to clutch onto, she rested her chin on her knees.

“Something happened to me when I unlocked my powers during the Calamity. Or more specifically, when I unlocked the Goddess’ spirit.”

Is there a difference I should know about?

Zelda soothingly ran her hand through her hair several times. “The Goddess was omniscient. The people believed she was all knowing. But she wasn’t. No one can tell the future, but she could read the present. She had the wisdom of understanding her people. They just didn’t know how or why. But I do.”

Several questions raced through Link’s mind, but his eyes stayed locked on Zelda, waiting for the answers rather than asking what he wanted to know.

Everything came out in a rush, pouring from Zelda’s mouth so she couldn’t stop herself before she was done. “The Goddess was omniscient because she could read the thoughts of those around her. If someone didn’t believe, she knew because she could hear them thinking it. And if someone was devout, she knew. If someone didn’t like the meal they were eating, she could hear them complain.”

Quietly processing that, Link nodded, though he wasn’t agreeing. So… can she hear my thoughts?

“I can.”

What? Is she answering my thoughts?

“Yes. I am answering your thoughts, Link.”

His eyes bugged out, mouth open wide as if he needed all the air he could get.

Holy Hylia. She’s in my thoughts. You’re in my thoughts? How long?

Zelda nodded and sighed. “I unlocked my powers, and this came with it. That’s why I stayed away for so long. Too many thoughts cause me unbearable pain. I haven’t learned to get a handle on it yet, so I just stayed away. It’s why my father sent me away while there were people staying on my floor of the palace. I’ll hear them all the time, and it just hurts too badly. Yesterday, the crowd was too large. I thought my brain was going to split apart.”

Why would you want me around if you needed peace?

“You’re a peaceful presence to me. Your thoughts aren’t loud, and sometimes, you think in terms of visuals, which helps because I can’t hear a visual unless you start thinking to go with it. And honestly, I miss you. We were close before I had this curse, and I… wanted you with me, regardless.”

I’m having a conversation through my mind. This is crazy. No, you’re not crazy, Zelda, if you can hear me. I just mean, this whole thing is… a lot.

“I know. And I can’t really turn it off. I don’t know if it’s possible, but I’m not there yet if it is. So if you’re thinking it, I can hear it. It’s how I heard the Yiga. It’s why I can’t go straight into Kakariko or back home. Impa has been looking for a way to help me, but still nothing.”

Oh Goddess, what embarrassing thoughts have I had about Zelda recently?

She smirked, and he caught it.

“What have I done?” he asked, his face turning red.

“You’ve been very kind in your thoughts,” she laughed. “Though I was highly intrigued by just how much you wanted to taste that rock in the river.”

“Goddess…”

I’ve thought about her. I know I have. What have I thought about specifically? Goddess, I’ve thought so many inappropriate things.

Zelda bit her lip and waited for him to remember that she could hear everything he was thinking, especially as he tried to wrack his brain for what he might have thought. Her cheeks burned as he stared at his hands, completely oblivious. She should stop him.

“Link,” she said, despite enjoying the incredibly interesting list of things she was learning.

His eyes shot up to hers, though he noted the fine blush across her cheeks. She tapped her head lightly as a reminder.

He looked ready to either cry or throw up. Maybe both. “Hylia above,” he muttered, burying his head in his hands.

Zelda wanted to feel more sympathetic, but she couldn’t stop the giggles that burst from her lips. Though her hand shook, she ran it through his hair, feeling him twitch beneath it.

“I know this isn’t a consolation, Link, and I swear, I wouldn’t listen in on your mind if I could help it, but I can at least level the playing field. I’ve had very similar thoughts about you. You just can’t hear them.”

He groaned and shook his head. I’m not royal. You can think whatever you want of me.

“I think the world of you.”

Chuckling, Link glanced at her and smirked. “That must have been planned. You came up with that too quickly.”

“I don’t need to plan. I just think quickly.”

Link scoffed. “I wouldn’t know.”

The bedroll suddenly felt too constrained, and the tent too small.

“I don’t hold you to the things you think about, Link. I’ve seen some guards with a mustache, and wondered if kissing them would tickle and wanted to test it out, but I wouldn’t actually do that. I just thought it. So, just know that despite me hearing a few things, I don’t expect anything, and I’m not judging you for your thoughts. They’re supposed to be a private place. I learned this with my father at the beginning, when he would curse the Goddesses for what they did to me, where he wanted to tear down their statues and destroy the springs. I know he never would, but he thought it.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ve just… well, I’ve got to get my thoughts in order.”

“Once I’m asleep, I don’t usually hear anyone. You might want to use that time to your advantage.”

“Zelda,” he started, but she heard his thoughts finish his sentence before he finally found his voice again. She sat smugly, waiting. “You know I’ve thought about it, so if I were to kiss you, what would you actually do?”

“Are you offering to conduct an experiment? Because I’m always interested in the pursuit of science.”

Laughing this time, Link shook his head. “No. When I kiss you, you’re not going to expect it. That’s how good I’m going to get at keeping my thoughts tame around you.”

Her smile widened at the use of the word ‘when’. “But your other thoughts about me are so much more entertaining.”

Flushed red once again, Link crawled into his bedroll and buried his face. Just leave me here to die.

Zelda’s laugh was loud and perfect, and she knew that even in his utter shame, he wanted to hear it again.

She settled her head against her arm and closed her eyes, her cheeks hurting the longer she smiled, but she couldn’t wipe it off her face.

“Goodnight, Link. I’m looking forward to your surprise.”

Link ducked his head down and covered his eyes with the crook of his arm.

I’m sure you are, Princess.

[deiliamedlini]

Slipping on Ice

Summary: Link is forced to take his little sister Aryll ice skating at 7am, and they suddenly have to share the rink.

~Modern Zelink AU ~

Word count: 4644

Or read on Ao3!

~~

“Link, you missed the turn!”

Aryll sat forward from the backseat and tried to point frantically at the road, only for the seatbelt to lock and send her backwards. There were several loud clicks, and she closed her eyes in defeat before Link could say a single smart word, because now she was stuck with the seatbelt completely trapping her.

“Can I fix my seatbelt?”

“No. We’re almost there. Suck it up.”

“You’re mean!” she groaned, leaning her head on the window.

Link glanced at her in the rearview mirror before making a U turn into the near-empty parking lot.

He leaned his head back against the hard headrest and closed his eyes, wishing he hadn’t promised his mother that he’d do anything if she let him go to a party over the weekend. He was 18, he shouldn’t even need to ask permission anymore.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!!” Aryll chanted, shaking the driver’s seat with her little hands.

“One day, Aryll, you’ll actually want to sleep in, and then I’ll wake you up to drag you somewhere stupid.”

“Nowhere is stupid!” she countered, whipping her door open and leaning against the window to eerily peer at him.

Glancing at the clock, he rolled his eyes. It was 6:58am and here he was spending the first day of his week-long vacation taking Aryll ice-skating. He double checked his wallet to make sure the 30 rupees his mother had given him were still there and then reluctantly dragged himself from the car.

Aryll was bursting with excitement, bouncing up and down as her plush coat swished with every excited move she made. She pulled her gloves from her pocket—her favorites that had seagulls on them despite the cold—and fiddled to get her fingers in as she stared into the glass door, waiting for whoever to unlock the doors.

Link, on the other hand, was miserable. He was so tired. He wasn’t one of those people who could function with a coffee and just 4 hours of sleep, so he closed his eyes for the next two minutes while leaning against the metal handrail. It didn’t feel cold; everything was cold. Why Aryll wanted to go to an indoor ice rink was beyond him, but he didn’t really care whether it was indoor, outdoor, or on the moon: he didn’t want to go.

“Fix your hat, Link,” she said to him, tapping on her own. She made a twisting motion.

Feeling for the emblem of the Rito Fliers on his knit hat, he pulled it off and retied his sloppily thrown-in ponytail before returning the hat so that the emblem was back in the center.

Finally, the employee came up to the door and stared at Link with equally weary eyes. Link didn’t recognize him, but honestly, he could have been at the party too, given his age and his general disposition that seemed ready to just die a little bit.

He let out a heavy sigh and unlocked the door.

Aryll didn’t even give him enough time to get out of the way before she’d accosted him.

“Hi! One adult and one child please! And we’ll need to rent skates!”

“I’m not skating,” Link muttered, grabbing the rupees. If he could avoid the skate rental and the admission fee, he could pocket the rest of the rupees.

Aryll glared at him as though he’d just told her that he’d killed her best friend. “You’re skating with me, or I’ll tell mom and dad that you didn’t. I’ll call them right now!”

Grimacing, Link handed over the rest of the rupees and told the man their sizes before turning toward Aryll’s smug expression. “No one wants to be friends with a dirty rat, you know.”

“I’m not dirty. And I haven’t told anyone yet, so I’m not technically a rat either.”

“No one wants to be friends with a smart mouth.”

“At least I’m smart.”

He made a face and leaned heavily against the counter until the guy returned with their skates. Link took them while Aryll bolted through the doors and into the rink.

It was freezing.

The chill hadn’t been enough to wake him up, but it was enough to make him a bit more alert. He looked around the deserted room, his footsteps echoing in the silence and making him more self-conscious than he already was about being here. What if Mipha saw him here? Would she laugh at him for his inability to skate? Would she make fun of him for spending the first day of his vacation with his little sister? Would she even notice he was there?

Not that any of that mattered. Mipha was dating Revali.

It was just a crush. On the most popular girl in school. Who was also gorgeous. But he’d never even said three words to her, so why would she care if he was here anyway?

“Hey! Link! Come on! Give me my skates!”

Shaking his head to snap himself out of it, he descended the stairs and tossed Aryll’s skates in front of her.

“Rude.”

“That’s for making me actually skate and blackmailing me.”

“I’ve seen you skate, Link. If you can even call it skating. It’s more like shuffling.”

“Shut up.”

Aryll grinned while she slid into her skates, testing them out before heading to the door onto the ice.

“Hey, wait!” Link called, gesturing to the spot in front of him.

“What?”

Link set his shoes down and knelt on the ground. “Put your foot up. It’s like mom never taught you to tie shoes.”

Groaning, Aryll threw her head back and set her skate against Link’s leg so he could retie it. The force that he pulled at the strings had her jerking back in surprise, and nearly toppling over, but she kept her balance and watched Link as he knotted the laces a few times. Admittedly, it did feel like a better fit when he was done.

“Other one.”

He shook his head as he pulled the loose strings. “Honestly, I thought you knew what you were doing.” He pulled the laces and Aryll swayed again.

“I do! I’m just… not the best shoe-tier.”

Satisfied, he patted the side of her foot. “Okay; go ahead. I’ll be out in a minute. But you know you’re kind of on your own, right?”

“Oh, I know!” she laughed, finally gliding onto the ice with an ease that Link was reluctant to admit he envied.

He put his own skates on slowly, glancing up every now and then to make sure Aryll hadn’t cracked her head open or anything terrible like that. He’d have no idea how to get to her if something happened, but she had been adamant that her classes made her good enough to know how to fall and how to jump and how to glide.

No one else knew how to ice skate, so sending Link was as good as sending anyone else with her. Plus, despite their occasional snippiness, Link would protect Aryll with his life, and their parents knew that enough to trust him alone with her at an ice rink. He’d find a way onto that ice faster than someone could call an ambulance.  

Link let out a deep breath again and set his phone inside his shoe before standing up. It wasn’t as bad as he remembered. He could do this, for sure.

That attitude went out the window the second his first skate hit the ice.

“Oh, shit,” he hissed, already unsteady with one foot still on land. Land? Is that what it was called now?

“Sound carries in here!” Aryll chided, swishing by him tauntingly.

He waited until she was on the opposite side of the rink before clutching the boards for dear life, throwing his other foot over and slipping like was… on ice, he supposed. His feet couldn’t stabilize, and it was all up to his arms to hold him up until he managed to regain his balance.

Sliding his hand along the boards, he pulled himself as far as he could until the plexiglass took over, and he was forced to slide his fingers into the narrow gap for any grip.

He hadn’t lifted his legs yet, but he was where the net would be in hockey, so he let go for a second and glanced back at Aryll. “Better than you thought I could do, huh?”

She skated up to him and then turned herself backwards, judging him with her arms across her chest as she disappeared.

“Critic,” he muttered, trying to lift his foot. He could only manage to get his right off the ground, and he kept trying to dig the front of his skate into the ice to push himself forward, because that’s what everyone in those videos Aryll made him watch with her last night did. He managed a shuffle, and every time he felt himself going, he grabbed for that little spot under the glass to steady himself, and then dragged himself along.

“You really suck,” Aryll said on her next pass.

“Hey! Language! You’re like, five!”

“I’m not five!” she called back. It was a running joke between them because Link needed to do math to figure out Aryll’s age. He always had to subtract six years from his own age to figure hers out, but she still seemed younger to him. Maybe she’d always be that way just because he was the oldest. Maybe, she’d be in her thirties one day and Link would still think she was a teenager.

It took a long time and several taunts from Aryll, but Link made it around the whole rink once, while Aryll had probably circled it nearly two hundred times. He’d gone around again, but he was stopped, watching Aryll practice her jumps when he heard the echo of footsteps entering the rink.

It was a public place, he knew, but they’d gone early to avoid people, not to share.

But wow, any semblance of annoyance he had disappeared when he saw the girl hurrying down the steps with a gym bag slung over her shoulder.

She had long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, and really that was all Link could see from that distance, but he did have a thing for blondes, and that was all he needed to feel an instant infatuation. But of course, his nerves shot up tenfold because now there was a hot blonde who’d watch him not know how to skate and probably fall on his ass.

He dragged himself around a bit more, trying to just keep his eyes on his feet instead of on her, but he was a sucker and glanced up.

She was watching Aryll with a fond smile on her face before she stood up and moved onto the ice.

Link shivered while he looked her over. She had a loose short-sleeved shirt on, her sports bra straps showing on her shoulders, and she was in a pair of leggings that hugged her a little too perfectly. He groaned to himself. She had to be hot. Physically, not temperature wise because honestly, she looked like she might be pretty cold.

After pulling himself along a little more—and then trying to shuffle his feet rather than drag himself like he was trying to lead a stubborn horse—he needed to pause to rest. So, he watched Aryll and the girl skate around the rink.

The girl neared him as she was making a turn around the rink, like a warmup, and smiled shyly at him when she noticed his gaze on her.

Shit. She probably didn’t want to be watched just as much as he didn’t. And Goddess, her eyes had been so green they’d nearly made him do a double take. But no! No double takes! She didn’t want to be watched!

It wasn’t until he heard Aryll’s loud “Whoa!” that he looked back out, clutching the boards again as he whipped his head and lost his balance. He expected to see Aryll on the ground, but she was just watching the other girl in awe. And honestly, so was Link.

She was spinning, but not like a normal person. Her arms were tucked against her chest and she spun like those people on the television who competed for medals and awards.

Her arms went out gracefully as she ended it like it was no big deal. Like she didn’t look like someone had just perfectly spun a coin.

She smiled at Aryll, and Goddess above, her smile was gorgeous and inviting and why did she have to be here?

The girl then leaped, some sort of near perfect split in the air before landing and sending Aryll another grin.

“How do you do that?” Aryll asked.

“Aryll!” Link called, chastising her. “Let the lady practice in peace.”

“No, it’s okay with me if it’s okay with you,” she said, stopping just in front of him.

Oh, she was so much prettier up close: freckles that scattered along her face, her long hair tied back into a much better ponytail than his own, glowing skin, impressive muscles. And she wasn’t too bad in the… no, he had to keep his eyes up! Only to be captured in her green ones. Expectant.

“What?” he asked, realizing that she was waiting for an answer from him, but entirely forgetting the question.

“I don’t want to talk to her or help her out if you’re not okay with it. That’s all. You are with her, right?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, looking at Aryll’s clear eavesdropping expression as she pretended to be distracted, though her eager face gave her away. “Yeah, go ahead. She likes all that… spinning stuff.”

The girl bit her lip to stop herself from giggling at ‘spinning stuff.’ Goddess, he was stupid. What a stupid thing to say to someone who clearly knows what they’re doing.

He kept shuffling, trying in earnest now to block out their conversation so he could focus on the simple task of going forward.

His attention was torn between making sure Aryll wasn’t being kidnapped and wondering how he’d ever cross the rink to save her if she was. But all he saw was the girl demonstrating something before Aryll tried it, and the girl’s face lit up as she clapped in encouragement.

The entrance of the rink was back in his sight, so he was less concerned about watching Aryll and more focused on his feet.

Which is why he didn’t see the girl until she was right in front of him.

“You should move away from the boards and look up rather than at your feet. It’ll help.”

Even her voice was gorgeous. Goddess above…

“I’ll fall,” he said simply, his hand still on the board.

“Yeah. You have to fall.”

“You haven’t fallen and you’re doing all those… spins. So I don’t think that logic works.”

The girl skated backwards in front of him. “Do you really think I haven’t fallen?”

“No, of course not,” he muttered. Someone who was that good had to have learned through a few spills over the years.

“Then trust me. Look up and get away from the boards. Stop worrying about falling.”

She skated back over to Aryll, demonstrating something else for his sister to try.

With their attention diverted, he pushed away from the boards and kept his eyes on the wall straight ahead.

And promptly felt his skates slide away from him, wide and uneven, throwing him entirely off balance until he hit the ice with a hard thud.

Knowing that both their eyes were on him now, he tried to get to his feet quickly, but that only ended with him slipping and hitting his chin on the ground. So, face burning with utter embarrassment, he rested his forehead against his arm so he could scream internally for a hot second before trying again.

When he looked up, the girl was crouched down in front of him. “Do you need help?”

He could either: stay on the ice like a flattened pancake, or let the hot girl realize that he really is an embarrassment for being unable to get to his own feet.

Looking back at her, he was struck by how she didn’t smile. She wasn’t laughing at him, or enjoying his pain. She wasn’t pitying him either. She just looked… like this was normal.

“Y-yeah,” he found himself saying, taking her outstretched hand.

He shuddered at the contact of her skin on his. She helped him flip onto his stomach and then to his knees before she pulled him up. “Is this your first time skating?”

Lie, or tell the truth?

Something about her wide, earnest green eyes had him sucking up his pride. “No, I just suck.”

“Everyone sucks at the beginning. Once you get it, you’ll be flying like the Rito,” she laughed, tapping the emblem on his hat. Then she blushed furiously, her whole face turning a shade of pink as she let go of his hand and moved backwards. “Sorry. Personal space issues sometimes when I’m on the rink.”

“No, it’s okay,” he muttered, unable to get his voice any louder. His hands were out to steady himself, but he slipped again, landing on his knee.

This time, she did smile, but it was soft and she held her hand out again.

“Your sister could teach you. She said she’s been taking skating lessons for a while.”

Scoffing harshly, Link shook his head and glanced at Aryll, who was blissfully making loops around the rink, unconcerned with them. But he took her hand again.

This time, she didn’t let go. She shook it. “I’m Zelda.”

He glanced at their clasped hands and raised his eyebrows, shocked that she was even telling him her name. “Link.”

She gave him a tug before letting go of him, letting him coast in the momentum. “So, you… um… go to school around here?”

He looked back at his feet so they didn’t get away from him, but he heard Zelda tsk, so he looked back at her. “Yeah. I’m in my last year at Faron High.”

Her smile broadened. “I’m in my last year at Labrynna!”

Hot, kind, and his own age.

Link took her in, suddenly feeling guilty; as much as he wanted to fall again just so she’d offer her hand one more time, he didn’t know her. “I’m sorry for taking up your time. Thanks for helping.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, glancing at Aryll for a while. “I’m always here, so it’s nice to have a different morning. And I like meeting new people.”

And just like that, the guilt faded away from him. “Always here? You a professional skater?”

“Not professional,” she said, offering her hand again. “I’ve done competitions.”

This time, he didn’t know why she was offering, so he hesitated before getting sucked in by her genuine smile. She tugged him again and he started to glide with her again.

He chuckled and kept his eyes off his feet. “You good at it?” Zelda raised an eyebrow, so he quickly waved his hands. “I-I mean, you looked incredible, but anyone who can move forward deserves a medal in my eyes. So, my comparisons aren’t great.”

Zelda bit her lip and shrugged. “I’ve done well.”

That, Link knew, was code for ‘yes, I’m very good,’ but from someone far humbler than himself.

After checking on Aryll, Zelda nodded to herself as she looked over Link. “You’re doing better already.”

“I am?” he asked, glancing at his feet.

Which, of course, sent him lurching forward until he hit the ice.

Zelda giggled this time, covering her mouth to try to stifle it. “I’m sorry! I threw off your focus!”

Link groaned and made it halfway to his feet before taking her hand this time. Well, he was getting better at falling anyway.

She didn’t let go.

Instead, she held out her other hand. “I can help keep you balanced so you can try moving your feet.”

One more hit, and Link was sure he’d wake up from this dream. Because what was even happening right now?

Well, if this was a dream, might as well go for it. And if it wasn’t… what could he do that’s more embarrassing than he’d already done?

So, he took her hand.

She pulled him with her for a moment before gesturing to his feet. “You should try… you know… skating.”

“Right,” he said, admittedly holding her a little tighter as he tried to push off the ice but stumbled.

She steadied him, but before he knew it, she was clicking her tongue at him again. “Link, stop looking at your feet.”

The sound of his name on her lips had his head jerking up far faster than he meant to. He was like an eager puppy, and he knew it.

Once they’d gone around a little more, Zelda loosened her grip. “I’m going to let go. Keep going. You’re doing really good.”

He blew out some air as she released him, and his arms shot out to his sides to keep him steady. But he was doing it. He was going forward.

He couldn’t help the triumphant little laugh that escaped from his lips.

“So, you’re not hopeless after all!” Aryll said as she skated beside him. “It’s taken him forever to figure this out! I even tried to show him videos yesterday.”

Defensive, Link glared at Aryll. “I tried to do it their way. But I couldn’t figure out the toe thing.”

Zelda raised an eyebrow again. “Toe thing?”

“Yeah, they kept pushing off with their toe or something, but I can’t get it.”

Goddess, Zelda was perfect, because she lifted her foot up to show off her skate while still skimming backwards in front of him. “This thing?” she asked, pointing to a sharp barb looking thing in the front of the blade.

“Yeah, they pushed off with that, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it.”

Zelda laughed again as she set her foot down. “These are for figure skating. The ones you have on are for hockey. No toe pick. They’re different.”

“They are?” he asked, trying—and failing—to get a good look at his own skates. “I thought they were all the same.”

“They’re not,” she said, her cheeks pinching her eyes with her smile. “You know, you’ve been skating this whole time without falling.”

“It’s a miracle,” Aryll muttered.

Link turned to her with a glare. “You’d better watch it, because when I get really good, I’m going to pick you up and throw you across the ice, and you better know how to stick that landing or you’ll end up on your ass.”

“First off, language,” Aryll huffed. “Second off, that sounds fun, so go ahead.”

He scoffed and playfully pushed her, though it did little more than throw him off balance for a moment. And when he looked up, he could see that people were starting to come into the rink quickly.

Zelda sighed and watched them with a sad expression. “I know them. They always just completely take over the ice. It’s a pain.”

Link finally stopped moving when he saw who it was. Mipha, Revali, and their friends were laughing boisterously as they took their seats in the bleachers to get their skates on.

Zelda looked between them and Link. “Do you know them?”

“Kind of. They go to my school, but we don’t talk.”

Zelda stared at them, specifically at Mipha, before muttering to herself. “Wow. She’s really pretty. I’d kill to look like her.”

Looking Zelda  over, Link was glad that Aryll had taken a turn around the rink without them. Because he didn’t think he’d have the courage to say anything if she’d been around as his audience.

“I know a stranger’s opinion isn’t worth anything but… personally, I prefer blondes.”

Whipping around, an incredulous look on her face, Zelda lost her balance and fell back onto the ice. She barely seemed like she noticed, pulling her legs up to her so she could stare open mouthed at Link until she regained her composure.

Her face was bright red, and she couldn’t quite meet Link’s eyes as she laughed to herself. But finally, she worked up to it and her gaze had him pinned.

“Yeah, I do too.”

Link nodded nervously before he started to chuckle and held his hand out to help her up.

She took it as a courtesy, but got up on her own so she didn’t pull him down when he’d spent so long getting his balance.

This time, when their hands lingered too long, the energy between them was palpable, and both of them were blushing.

Aryll skated up to them. “I’m hungry. Can we go to Windy’s?”

Link glanced apologetically at Zelda, and she followed them back to the gate, watching as they both pulled at the laces in much the same aggressively impatient manner. It had her grinning.

“You know,” she said when Link stood up. “I’m here at 7:30 whenever there isn’t school. I’ll be here tomorrow, if Aryll would like some more help.”

Her eyes were distinctively flirty, and Link was beyond glad that Aryll was still too young to recognize it, because she gasped in excitement. “Can we, Link?”

He didn’t look at Aryll, too entranced by Zelda’s blatant invitation. “We’ll ask mom, but if she says you can, I’ll bring you. If not… I might just come here alone.” His lips tipped up, and he prayed that the red in his cheeks and down his neck just looked like it was from the cold.

“No fair! But mom will say yes if you’re bringing me so she can go back to sleep!”

Link didn’t even realize how awake he’d become since Zelda came into the rink.

Zelda pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ears that had come free in her fall. “Okay then. I’ll see you both tomorrow. For lessons.”

Aryll beamed. “Maybe you can come for lunch with us tomorrow?”

Zelda bit her lip and looked over at Link, who was now staring at the floor so she couldn’t see his expression. But she thought he was cute when he was nervous. “Link? What do you think?”

Forced to look up at her, he knew she could see how eager he was to just straight out say yes. It was all over his face, and burning in his eyes. “If you’d like to,” he said carefully. “I have no objections.” He finished sliding his normal shoes back on before standing up.

“Okay. I look forward to it. I’ll see you tomorrow Aryll. Link.”

He stepped forward, a little too close to where she leaned on the board. “Zelda.”

Her mouth dropped into a smile as he used her name for the first time.

Link patted Aryll’s shoulder to lead her up the stairs before taking one more look behind him at Zelda.

They were halfway up the steps when Link pointed to Aryll. “Do not tell mom that there is a pretty girl involved.”

But Aryll smiled. “Your voice carries, Link.”

Spinning around on the stairs, he saw Zelda beaming as she giggled. But she—thankfully—pushed off the board and twirled once before skating away, her eyes on them until she no longer could see where they stood.

And when Link glanced at Mipha as they passed, and he felt that his infatuation with her had faded to near nothing from the time he’d gotten out of the car to the time he got into it once again. He knew he was doomed. because the only one on his mind now was Zelda.

He’d never been more excited to set an early alarm.

[deiliamedlini]

In Plain Sight

Summary: The Kingdom of Hyrule has a strict no-magic policy; any magic user could be put to death if they’re found out... even if that person is the Princess.

~Generic AU. Zelink. Mild/moderate violence range.~

Word Count: 8436

Or on Ao3

~~

“Keep it secret. Keep it hidden. From everyone, especially your father.”

Zelda kept her hands behind her back, her mother’s voice echoing through her memory as she stared at the pyres in the distance, flames roaring with the vengeance that her father poured into every witch hunt. There were three this time, and Zelda was grateful that they were far enough away that they couldn’t hear the commotion that always accompanied such events.

“This is barbaric,” she whispered, as she did every time she was forced to attend.

“This is justice,” her father, King Rhoam whispered in return. “They are a blight. The greatest evils in this world are caused by these creatures, and they must be purged.”

Zelda said nothing, simply sighing and keeping her eyes on the ground until it was over. The grass wasn’t terribly interesting. It swayed in the wind every now and then, but there was little else to occupy her. She counted the intervals between gusts. They were uneven and unequally spaced out until they stopped all together.

She glanced up. The spectacle was still taking place, and she needed to stay entertained to get through this.

Biting her lip, she took a brief glance at her father before curling her finger behind her back and immediately feeling the wind return, a bit stronger so it could caress her face and move her hair and whip at their royal cloaks. She turned into it and closed her eyes, letting a smile rest on her lips as she felt the magic in it as poignantly as if it were a physically tangible thing. She knew this was something only people like her could feel.

She hummed in contentment, lost in the distracting feeling.

“Wind’s picked up, eh?” her father mumbled, tugging his flapping cloak against him.

Zelda felt a prickle on the back of her neck, which always happened when someone was watching her, and her eyes immediately glanced around until she found the source of the attention, because her father’s eyes were rapt on the scene in the distance, even when he spoke to her.

One of the knights, her favorite, in fact, had his eyes on her, softly watching her enjoy the breeze. She never mistook the gleam in his eyes as anything other than simple attraction, as she was sure he’d noticed in the way she lazily watched him go about his tasks as well.

So when their eyes met, they both smiled at each other for the briefest moment, forgetting where they were and who was around before he regained his better senses first and proceeded to look straight ahead at attention, as he was expected to.

“Can’t we leave yet?” Zelda asked, letting the wind die down slowly so as not to seem suspicious.

“Stop asking me, Zelda. You’re a Princess, and you must endure long events without complaint.”

“Yes, court hearings and council meetings. But watching people die? Please… I…uh…. I have a delicate heart,” she said quickly, unsure what else could get her out of this. “And these events so easily break it.”

King Rhoam looked at her and sighed. If nothing else, he did love his daughter. He had a terribly odd way of showing it, but he did. And to him, she was still just a fragile child.

“Link!” he called, and Zelda’s favorite knight stepped forward. “Take the Princess back to the castle.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Link said, bowing first to the King and then to Zelda as he followed behind her.

When they were far enough away, Zelda visibly shuddered and turned over her shoulder for a final look at the smoke in the air, praying that no one ever found out her secret, or she would be up there herself.

Her father loved her, but there was no doubt that he hated magic more. Other royals in the past hadn’t been exempt from the law. Her own mother had been one of them, and her grandfather had carried out the sentence himself.

Zelda had been under more scrutiny in her youth when they were watching to see if she’d inherited her mother’s magic, but Zelda heeded her mother’s words and kept every impulse to herself, fighting not to use it at all. Now, it practically called to her, begging to be used, like a siren calling a sailor into the sea. She simply couldn’t help it at times.

At night, she’d pray to the Goddess, begging Her to take away Zelda’s powers. She wanted to feel safe in her own home, and to lose the one thing that made her special. She wanted to be normal. Ordinary. Unassuming. Uninteresting. Safe.

The Goddess never listened, and Zelda’s magic only grew stronger over the years.

“I hate those events,” she muttered to Link as he hurried up beside her.

“I know.”

“Why do you do it?” she asked, glaring at him.

Loyal to a fault, Link was one of the knights who was responsible for bringing in many of the magic users who’d eventually be put to death. It was an order from the King. And Link never refused an order.

“His Majesty commands that I do so.”

“What if I command that you stop?” she asked, already knowing his answer.

“I’m sorry, Princess. Your father’s commands supersede your own.”

“I know,” she whispered as they reached their horses. Link helped her onto hers before they both made their way across Hyrule Field.

Zelda was in no hurry to get back, and Link matched whatever pace Zelda set.

“But why?” she asked again, a little more frustrated. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, and for some reason, she expected his answers to change.

She’d long since commanded him to ride and walk beside her when they were alone. She welcomed his company when she had it, and him walking behind her always frustrated her while trying to hold a discussion.

“If I don’t do it, I’ll be killed, and someone will replace me. My noncompliance will not change a thing. And if I can be honest, Princess, I’d rather be alive to be your guard than die in vain protest. Your father doesn’t care for me. I won’t be a martyr. I’ll just be another fallen soldier.”

The trees passed them by, and they rode into the wide expanse of the truest part of Hyrule Field, where the mountains in the distance were unobstructed by trees or castles or buildings. Small streams took the place of lakes, and the field was calling them closer with the light colors and gentle swaying grass.

“Have you ever let anyone go?” she asked, turning to him.

He looked at her with wide eyes. And though he knew her better, it almost felt like she was attempting to trap her into admitting something that could get him killed, and he immediately defaulted to defense, like the soldier that he was. “I would never! My command is to bring in all magic users for questioning. From there, it’s not in my hands. I cannot disobey my orders. If anyone found out, I’d be strung up beside them.”

“’If anyone found out?’” she asked curiously and uncompromising. She could see him squirm, and she didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to trap him, and her curiosity had gotten them both into far worse situations in the past. “What if you could guarantee that no one would ever find out. Would you do it?”

Link shook his head and made a contorted face that betrayed his stress. “I don’t know. It’s not a situation that will ever happen, so I don’t need to consider it. Besides, I am loyal to the monarch of Hyrule. I will not disobey, no matter my beliefs.” He turned to see her disappointed expression, and it pulled at something inside him that he often tried to ignore. He longed to comfort her, but this conversation could be treason. So he spoke true words that were still carefully cultivated to keep him safe. “Now, if you command me to stop when you’re Queen of Hyrule, I’ll have no choice but to gladly obey that command.”

Zelda smirked at him, blushing under his stare but let the conversation drop and returned her attention to the field. Too much prodding was suspicious, but she was allowed this much after watching the deaths. There was nothing suspicious after coming back from such a horrific event.

Suddenly, Zelda gasped and signaled for Link to stop and dismount with her. She ran over to a tree that stood alone in the field and fell to her knees, crawling over to the base of it. “Link, look!” she called behind her.

Two Silent Princesses bloomed fiercely, their blue and white petals enticing her over with the force a predator might attract prey. And with this flower, her absolute favorite in all Hyrule, she would happily be its prey and stare at it, study it, observe it.

The hair on her neck pricked again, and she knew that Link was looking at her, not the flower.

It wasn’t an unpleasant or even distracting sensation. She felt it so often as the Princess that she was able to tune it out in larger crowds. But when there were fewer people, she was more attuned to the feeling. And when she was just with Link, she felt it often.

“Link—” she said, twisting around to beckon him over, unsure if he simply hadn’t heard her. But she felt her cheeks immediately burn when she realized that his gaze was decidedly not near her face.

His eyes darted up to hers immediately, but there was no denying that he’d been caught. He grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and fisted it tight, cursing as he felt himself flushed and ready to die a little. Suddenly, the grass became terribly interesting, because he couldn’t stop staring at it, unwilling to let himself look at her again because she already knew where his focus had been. He debated apologizing or holding on to that last sliver of hope that she hadn’t actually noticed.

Zelda let out a nervous chuckle as she folded her hands in her lap while she sat back. But once she felt the nerves pass, she waved her hand dismissively and held one out to Link to encourage him to join her. “Come here.”

He was more than grateful that she didn’t bring it up. Link even debated taking her outstretched hand to let her pull him beside her, but after that, he couldn’t let himself slip around the Princess of Hyrule once again, and he knelt beside her, one knee down like he was bowing.

Zelda wished he could get comfortable around her, but she couldn’t blame him. He’d gotten too comfortable for a moment and been caught just seconds ago.

One thing that she liked the most about Link was that he often forgot himself around her. He treated her like a person, and not just a figurehead. And Link felt the same, basking in the rare courtesy that someone showed him. Zelda knew he was just a human, fallible, and imperfect.

They were each other’s haven when the rest of the world expected too much of them. Link was not a pawn, and Zelda was not a princess. They were simply friends.

“There’s two of them,” she said instead, hoping to take his mind off of things, to coax that easy friendship back out of him. “They’re so beautiful. It’s a shame how fast they wilt when indoors.”

“They’re your favorite,” he said simply, running a gloved hand over the petal. It wasn’t a question.

“They are. You knew that?”

“I do.”

She stared at him for a while longer before accepting that he wasn’t going to elaborate on how he knew. This wasn’t the first time she’d dragged him from his horse to look at flowers, mushrooms, bugs, or even frogs, so there was nothing to give her away by her reaction. He simply knew. He knew her.

Resting her chin in her hand, she stared at the flower. “Convince me not to run experiments on one of these in an attempt to domesticate it. Convince me to leave them both here.”

“I’d never think to try to deter you from your research, Princess.”

She grinned in his direction before biting her lip, one final consideration before she uprooted one of the flowers carefully from the ground and returned to her horse with Link beside her.

Days passed with little success in her experiments. The flower was withering quickly, and the edges especially were shriveling. Link returned to his other duties, and she to hers.

Nearly a week after taking the flower, it was near death, and she wished he had convinced her to leave it where it belonged.

“Princess?” Link’s voice called from outside her door.

Zelda stood up from her desk and looked around, flicking her fingers at some clothes until they moved into her closet, and then again at the bed that she’d taken a nap in that the maids had never fixed—unbeknownst to them that she’d slept at all. The blankets returned to their pin-straight smoothness, and the pillows carefully arranged themselves. She stood in front of her door and waited for them to stop moving before turning the handle for Link.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly.

“Princess,” he greeted and stepped into her room, looking around.

It was a nightly inspection for anything amiss, something her soldiers had done since she was a little girl. She was used to the invasion of privacy for the sake of her safety by now, but when it was Link on guard, it always gave her some time to talk to him, even if it made her slightly embarrassed to have him go through some of her things. But shame was something she’d long-since set aside when it came to this nightly ritual. At this point, half the guards in the castle knew what was in her room from this task.

He began in her closet, looking intently enough to make sure there was no hidden assailant, but fast enough to avoid invading her privacy too much.

“How was training?” she asked curiously.

Link chuckled and turned to her, calling her out on that question. “Why do you ask? I saw you come by.”

She blushed and tripped over her foot before steadying herself. She hadn’t realized he’d seen her. She bit her lip, following beside him as he made his way around her room. “Well… from a knight’s perspective, I mean.”

He stopped his search for a moment to look at her, his eyebrow raised suspiciously, and—dare she even think it—a little bit flirtatiously. The corner of his mouth lifted slowly. “It was fine, Princess.”

He returned his attention to his search, walking beside her desk, his eyes trailing along her open books, quills, the wilting flower, and her bag. He then looked under the desk before moving on.

“I’m so bored,” she whined, leaning against the wall beside him. “Give me more details than that. Humor me, at least.”

“You’re bored? I couldn’t tell,” he snorted, this time a full smile gracing his face. “Unfortunately, there are no details, Princess. It was just… fine.” Then he got onto his knees to look under her bed.

With him on his hands and knees and his upper half hidden under the bed, Zelda understood the appeal of letting her eyes linger low on someone one considered attractive. Though it was not for the first time that she admired him, she did connect her thought back to the way she’d caught him just a week ago staring at her.

She crossed her arms, and both cursed and praised whoever had come up with the form-fitting design on the royal guard uniform pants. He wiggled a lot too so he could see all angles under the bed, and Zelda bit her lip as she indulged in the moment, probably more than Link had the other day when she’d caught him ogling her. Zelda was, after all, a scholar who loved to observe her specimens.

Link always moved quickly in everything he did. It’s why he was primarily appointed to guard her so often: his reflexes, his skill, his speed; he was all but a machine. It was no surprise that he was quick to search under the bed as well, always courteous to keep her privacy as untouched as possible. So, he efficiently removed himself from under the bed and turned to Zelda before she had the time to look away.

Blushing viciously, Zelda, unlike Link, managed to keep Link’s gaze, undeterred by being caught. Link had gone red, but as he pushed himself to his feet and started to walk to her windows, he let his arm brush hers, a sly grin on his face to match her own.

Zelda bobbed her head to the side triumphantly, following him to the balcony, as she always did.  He looked over the edge, and Zelda looked as well, wishing she knew exactly what ‘signs’ he was looking for. Was there meant to be a person on her roof?

She felt that sensation on her neck again, only this time, she let herself pretend not to notice until she’d swept the entirety of the roof with her eyes before meeting his.

They were soft as they watched her.

She turned towards him and hesitated for a moment. “So? Am I in danger?”

“You’re safe, Princess.”

“Thank you. Will you be in for the morning round? Or are you going to see your mother?”

“How do you know—”

“You mentioned it a few weeks ago.”

His eyebrows went up. “You remembered?”

“I do listen when you speak, Link.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I’m most likely going to ride out for the day, but I’ll be here in the morning.”

“Okay,” she smiled, following him back into the room as he made for her door. “I’ll see you then.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Link,” she said, closing the door.

She leaned against it and took a deep breath to steady herself before returning to her workbench and her wilting flower.

“I shouldn’t have done this to you,” she whispered to it as if it could hear her apology. She set to stroking the petals gently, and as she did, color went back into it, straightening the stem out, returning the petals to their softness and former glory, flourishing and beautiful and alive. It made her giggle, as magic sometimes did when it felt good. Breathing life back into something always felt particularly special.

She stood up, satisfied, and closed her eyes to picture an outfit as she ran her hand just in front of herself. When she opened her eyes, the clothes she’d been wearing had swapped places with the pajamas on her chair, and she was comfortably ready for bed.

The magic was practically bursting from her, and once she ducked under the covers, she passed a ball of light between her hands, letting it hover as she did. It soothed her and let her release a lot of her magic at once, which made it easier to control in the long run.

Once she’d tired out, she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Until hours later when there was a knock on her door.

“Princess?”

Zelda groaned and cracked her eye open, scowling at the bright sun coming through her window. “Is it morning already?” she called back, faceplanting her pillow.

She could practically hear Link chuckle. “Unfortunately, it is, Princess.”

“Ugh!” she groaned, covering her eyes with her arm. “Give me a moment.” She closed her eyes again, and at once she felt her heavy eyes thank her, completely at peace, as if she could fall immediately back to sleep.

“Princess?” he knocked again.

She sat up with a start. She knew Link would never knock twice in a row after she asked him to wait. “Link? Did I fall back asleep?”

This time, she was positive he laughed. “I believe you might have.”

“I’m so sorry,” she hissed, grabbing her robe off the bedpost and wrapping it around herself, stumbling for the door. “I’m sorry,” she said again when she opened it, nearly falling into Link as she tried to get her sleep-addled brain to work.

He came into the room and looked around. “No need to apologize. This can’t be the most fun wakeup call to have to go through each day.”

She cleared her throat and carefully waved her finger quickly in front of her, ensuring that her breath didn’t smell of sleep before she spoke. Link turned to her and she felt the prickle on her neck, but she was still bleary eyed as she tried to talk to him. “It’s understandable. Ever since Twinrova, I don’t hate this routine as much as I used to. Though I would like a little bit more sleep in the mornings.”

Her eyes finally cleared enough to realize he was staring at her, his eyes looking her over in a way that she’d only seen a few times from him, and mostly when he thought she wasn’t looking. Last time he’d looked at her like this, she’d been wearing a ballgown.

This time, she realized suddenly, she was standing beside Link looking a mess. She’d normally remembered to tame her frazzled bed-hair or change clothes before the guards entered in the morning, but she’d forgotten. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time she’d forgotten with Link as the guard. And he was the only one that she blushed around.

She was in her light robe, her heavier ones put away for the season; her shirt was too small on her, riding up over her stomach, but she welcomed that and a pair of shorts in the summer heat. Feeling her hair, she gently smoothed it down, though she could feel the wild tangles from a fitful, warm night. She tugged the robe closed and bit her lip, blushing as she closed her eyes and turned away, cursing herself again.

“Sorry,” she finally said, when she had the courage to look back at him. “Excuse my appearance.”

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, finally coming back to himself. “You look…” he didn’t finish, and laughed softly to himself as red spread along his neck. Then he simply nodded at her and hurried to her closet to start his routine.

When Link’s back was to her, Zelda covered her eyes and groaned, wondering if she could tell him not to look at her long enough to at least switch into pants rather than shorts. But then she would be announcing that she’d be changing behind his back, and that made her feel distinctly less comfortable than simply enduring her embarrassment from looking like a bridge troll.

Link passed her, his eyes sweeping over her almost subconsciously before he kept up his search. He reached her desk and stopped, his fingers trailing along the stem of the Silent Princess.

Zelda watched him as she tied her robe closed rather than holding it before going over to him. “That’s the one we found last week. My experiments are slowing the decaying process.”

“Slowing?” he asked carefully, rubbing the petal lightly. “Was this here last night?”

“Ye—” she started before she froze. Last night, it had been withered and shriveled. And Link was keen enough to know that. Her heart raced until he finally glanced over at her, curiosity burning in his eyes, his hand still on the flower.

“No,” she finally said. “I had a different flower here that I was looking at. One that didn’t survive an experiment. I worked a little longer after you left.”

He stared at her for a long moment, but not with the same look he’d had when he’d seen what she was wearing. This was distinctly pensive, and she could see the wheels in his brain spinning rapidly. For once, she cursed that he was smarter than everyone gave him credit for. He thumbed the flower one more time before circling around the room to get to her bed.

She followed behind him so he couldn’t see the absolute stress on her face, or the way she kept fisting the roots of her hair as she thought about her carelessness.

He knelt down, and turned to her, catching her in her worried state. He froze on his knees, his brow furrowing. “Are you alright this morning, Princess?”

She let go of her hair and nodded. “Just tired. Are you excited to see you mother? When was the last time you visited her?”

Link took a deep breath and shrugged as he looked under the bed. “I’m not going. I was called on another… assignment.”

Assignments. That’s what they often called apprehending magic users.

Zelda sat on the bed and heard Link groan before he pulled his head out.

“Sorry,” she said quickly.

Link leaned an elbow against the bed and watched her from his knees. She grabbed one of her fringed pillows, needing something to distract her hands until she finally turned to him. “Is there any situation that you’d defy my father and just not do it? Just let them be in peace, or refuse to go despite your orders?”

“No,” he said, too quickly.

“What if it was just to make me happy? Would you do it then?”

That stopped him, and he hesitated, staring at her as he thought. She could see the conflict warring in him. He was like her in that he truly didn’t want to apprehend magic users unless they posed a threat, like anyone else. But his loyalty to the crown… it went beyond his loyalty to her, and she knew it. The answer to this question would only hurt them both, and she knew that too.

“No,” he finally said, looking away, ashamed of his own answer. He stood up without another look at her and went to the window and balcony.

She didn’t follow him this time, sulking on the bed instead, as if she’d expected a different answer from him. And when he returned, she looked back at him. “Do you think they’re all evil, like my father does?”

“No,” he said, again too quickly, too certainly. “I think we’re all capable of great evil, magic or not. The measure of a good person is one who doesn’t succumb to the pull of that evil. Magic isn’t involved in that decision.”

“So, you think I’m capable of great evil?” she asked, only partially teasing him.

“You’re the only exception,” he said with a grin.

She smiled and nodded, but it was laced with sadness. “Thank you. Be safe while you’re out there.”

He nodded in return. “I should be back by about midafternoon.”

“Okay,” she sighed, and he left without another word. Her head slammed back into the mattress and she longed for a way to protect more people like her.

She glanced at her desk where she could see her Silent Princess and groaned. She could barely keep herself safe. How could she protect others?

Zelda was sorely reminded of her powerlessness when her father made her go to the magic user’s ‘trial’ the next day, a trial that was preceded over by the King himself.

She stood on the balcony with Link behind her as she watched her father in his throne, head of the proceedings. There was never a fair trial, and the accused were almost always found guilty.

This time though, it was a little harder to deny.

“You are sentenced to burn at the stake until dead,” her father said after hearing everything he needed to. No matter how many times he said it, it was still spat with as much resolve and vigor as the first time he’d uttered those words.

“No!” the man yelled, rattling the chains around his bound wrists.

Link took a step forward as the room shook with the man’s rage.

Literally.

“No!” he screamed again, this time, his eyes darting to Zelda and then back to her father. “You and your family will die for what you’ve done to us!”

Zelda sucked in a breath and shuddered, but she gasped when she felt Link’s hand slide into her own. His other hand was on the sword at his back, always ready to move.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and he tightened his grip reassuringly, which she returned before they both watched the man’s fit before the throne as soldiers tried to get near him, only to be thrown back against the wall by the unseen force of his magic.

Biting her lip, Zelda debated whether or not to intervene, but her decision was made for her when she saw the man turn his attention to a display of weapons that began to shake loose and hovered at the ready, like projectiles.  

Zelda clenched her free hand, holding on to the weapons to prevent him from flinging them anywhere. It was difficult to hold so many objects still, but she kept them tight as she felt his magic tug against hers.

He was visibly rattled by the intervention, his head whipping around to try to find the source. But the distraction gave a guard the opportunity to try to apprehend him.

The man went to jerk his head, to send the guard flying, but Zelda dropped the weapons and curved her wrist, holding his head still so the magic was derailed, and the force hit the wall instead, sending a picture crashing to the ground, but not a person.

Gasping in shock, the man tugged at his chin. But the magic was like a hand, and he followed it straight to her eyes. He scoffed, his wide and accusing glare chilling her to the core.

Her hand fell and she let go of him, her heart stopping completely in that moment. He knew it was her.

She and Link tightened their grip on each other as soon as the man’s attention went to her, but the man let out another scream. This time, flames roared from his mouth, and straight towards Zelda.

She didn’t realize she was on the ground until she saw the flames above her. Link had her cocooned between him and the stone balcony, his head shielding her from the worst heat of the fire.

His reactions were fast though, and he pulled her to her knees, dragging her beside him to get her off the balcony. Zelda noticed a flag above had also caught fire, but Link had her out before she could discern any other damage. He didn’t care if the whole castle caught fire; Zelda was his priority.  

He pulled her behind him as other guards ran into the room, likely to deal with the fire. But that wasn’t Link’s responsibility.

He grabbed a passing guard. “Hey, tell the King I’m bringing the Princess back to her room for safety.”

“Sure, Link,” she said before hurrying into the throne room.

Link said no more until he’d practically pushed Zelda all the way back to her own room. Zelda was still rattled, and she let him guide her as her thoughts were stuck on the way that man had looked at her. What was he saying now? She couldn’t focus on the halls or the doors.

So she was beyond surprised when Link gently placed a hand on her cheek and let the other run through her hair.

“Are you okay?” he breathed, looking her over for any wounds or injuries. “Were you burned?”

“No, I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am.” He stopped and stared at her, eyes wide as he breathed through an unfamiliar sensation that threatened to steal the air from his lungs.

Link had been a royal guard for years. He’d worked closely with Zelda for quite a while. But he’d never been in a situation where she’d actually been in danger. Sure, he’d cleared bandits off the road, or taken down a bokoblin hunting party before they could reach the Princess, but he’d had those situations entirely under control. This? The flames had nearly hit her. If he’d been any slower…

“Thank you,” she whispered, stopping his train of thought when she took the opportunity to lightly brush back some of his hair that had fallen loose of his ponytail and into his face. She tucked a strand behind his ear and let her hand trail along his skin while he watched, too nervous to move with her that close.

Her door swung open, and Link was in front of her with his sword drawn before she could even gasp.

But he quickly sheathed it and dropped to his knee, head bowed as King Rhoam rushed in and grabbed Zelda.

“Are you okay? They’re taking that demon away now for an immediate execution. He was raving, threatening you. Saying it was your fault as they dragged him away. Link, I want you to stay alert for the rest of the day and night. Don’t leave her side, do you understand? I don’t trust him, even in death.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good. I’m going to deal with that monster. I don’t want you there today, Zelda.”

“Okay,” she muttered as Rhoam stormed back out of her room, slamming her door violently.

She was glad she wasn’t going to be there. Rhoam was going to make it hurt.

“He said it was your fault?” Link asked, his brow furrowing.

Zelda shrugged and leaned against her desk, staring down at her Silent Princess. “He said it was the Royal Family’s fault. He must have meant me indirectly.”

Link moved up beside her, his eyes lingering on the flower as well before she felt the prickle of his gaze. “You’re trembling. You should sit and breathe. Deep breaths.”

She sat on the bed and pulled her legs up, adjusting the bottom of her dress over her knees. “I wish I could have been born normal.”

Link knelt beside her. “If you were normal, we’d never have met, so I’m glad you’re not.”

She smiled as he misinterpreted what she meant. She let him. He was cute, his eyes still wide with worry. “Yeah, that’s a perk.”

Link was on her heels the rest of the day while she did her tasks and entertained herself in the library. He was quiet and far more watchful, and Link’s orders were reiterated to him by the King that night at dinner.

Rhoam pointed his fork threateningly in Link’s direction where he stood. “You do not leave her side tonight; do you understand?”

Link now stood in the corner of her bedroom, staring at the wall like a punished child while she changed.

“My father was literal, huh? Not to leave my side,” she mused, opting for a longer pair of pants this time.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled.

“Are you going to sleep at all? Swap guards?”

“No.”

Zelda crawled under her blankets. This wasn’t the first time a guard had to be in her room overnight to watch for a threat either, but again, it was the first time it was Link. “You can turn now.”

He hesitated before carefully looking at her. “I’ll just patrol the room throughout the night. Any footsteps you hear will likely be mine, so try to sleep through it.”

“Okay,” she said, familiar with that speech from the past.

He nodded awkwardly before heading out to the balcony. He turned to her once more. “Goodnight, Princess. I’m glad you’re okay.”

She smiled at him, trying to reassure him that this was normal for her. “You as well, Link.”

But she couldn’t sleep.

She heard his footsteps, sure, but for the most part, she was distracted by that prickle on her neck brushing over her often, letting her know that Link was watching her. Each time, her heart sped up, and she cracked her eyes open if she wasn’t facing him. She was usually better at ignoring it, but she had a feeling it was distinctly because it was Link, and she was hyperaware of him anyway.

She’d finally drifted off, but she awoke again some time later. The prickle was there, but it was different, and almost entirely foreign to her. In fact, she knew he wasn’t looking in her direction because of how different it felt. This wasn’t the same sensation at all. Her hairs stood up on her arms and the back of her neck, and she was immediately tense. But she sat up and opened her eyes, blinking the sleep from them and rubbing them as if that would wipe away the memory. Perhaps it had been a bad dream that stirred her.

Then she felt Link looking at her. That was familiar.

She turned to where he stood half in, half out between her room and the balcony, leaning against the frame. He was silhouetted by the light of the night sky, so she couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t need to.

“You alright?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Just felt weird. Probably a bad dream. It was so strange.”

“Okay. Don’t wake yourself up taking to me,” he chuckled.

“I like talking to you.”

He smiled at her, his teeth catching the moonlight before he turned his head into it. “You too, Princess.”

She watched him for a while, admiring the way the light framed him and drew her eye. Her chin was against her pulled-up knee that she hugged close to her. It was strange to realize that she could watch him for so long without feeling bored or embarrassed, enjoying the many different ways the moonlight caught his face.

But then, she felt her neck prickle again, and she sat up straight. Link turned at her sudden movement.

“Link, come here!” she said, too frightened to whisper.

He was by her side in an instant, sword drawn from her tone. “What is it?”

“Someone’s watching from the dark,” she breathed, this time, too hushed for anything but Link’s ears.

“Where? Did you see them?”

“No, but they’re there. Trust me.”

He glanced at her for a second before he nodded and held his sword ready in his hand while he searched the room slowly and carefully.

But the feeling never went away from her neck, even when he wasn’t looking. She covered her mouth, unnerved by how strong it was. Like they were right behind her, breathing on her skin, drawing every goosebump out of hiding.

She shot forward with a shriek, crawling to the end of the bed before turning to stare at the empty space in front of her. The sensation was burning.

Link was at the foot of her bed, sword raised, waiting for the threat.  

She could feel it, this time right in front of her, hovering just in front of her face. She whimpered and started to crawl back until she’d run out of room, and then leaned back into Link while he watched her, confused. To him, there was nothing. There was no sensation, no prickle on his neck, no goosebumps. The only fear he felt was because Zelda was in such a panic. He almost wondered if maybe she were still dreaming.

“Zelda?” he whispered, one hand snaking around her waist to support her as she kept moving backwards until she was flush against him, even pushing him off balance in her attempt to keep moving back.

“It’s here. It’s right here. Link… please…”

He held her tighter, his arm completely wrapped across her waist, his eyes fluttering around the empty space on her bed. But he could feel her shuddering violently. And he trusted Zelda, even if he didn’t know what for.

In a single motion, he spun Zelda off the bed and thrust out his sword into the air.

An inhuman figure screeched out into the darkness, taking shape as it writhed in its pain.

Link jumped back at the sudden appearance, but he recovered fast enough to push Zelda back when the creature slinked onto the floor and began to crawl toward them. Link stabbed it again, and it howled.

“Where are the guards?” she yelled as Link kept pushing her towards the hall.

But at that, he stopped her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind him instead. They’d have come in with all the noise. Either they weren’t outside for some reason, or they were killed.

The creature calmed down again and stood taller than any person Zelda had ever seen. Link stepped forward with his sword, and this time, the figure sidestepped his stab and backhanded Zelda, sending her crashing into the wall with inhuman force before turning its attention to Link. Sharp claws pried at the chain-link armor Link wore while he struggled to get up, screaming as the claws began to pierce straight through the armor and started tearing at his skin.

Zelda blinked and crawled away from her wall, pushing the hair from her face so she could see. And she could see Link bleeding.

“Link!” she screamed, her hand flying out on instinct. The figure was thrown back as she released her power, and Link sat up, one hand over his wound as he stared at her in shock.

She stumbled, her head throbbing from the impact, but she made her way to stand over Link while he gawked at her.

These consequences were ones she was willing to deal with later. She wasn’t going to let Link die just to keep her secret.

The creature hissed and crawled up on to the wall before flinging itself at Zelda, taking her down to the ground with ease. Its sharp fingers, no longer a full claw, dug into the skin at her neck and she tried to pry it loose with her magic, which was stronger than her actual grip. But the creature was strong too.

Until it was screeching again.

Fingers slackened their hold on her, and Zelda looked up to see Link’s sword through its head as he clutched his bleeding wound. It slithered back and rematerialized on the other side of the room.

Link stood over Zelda. “You okay?”

She checked her skin, her hands coming back bloody. “I don’t know yet.”

It let out a roar as its shape changed again, and suddenly there were tentacle-like appendages, one going for Zelda and pinning her down, and the other clawing at Link’s armor again, the tip a sharp point that was relentless in its attempt to reach a vital organ.

Link screamed, stabbing futilely at the tendril as the metal of his armor kept being torn away like chipping paint.

“Link!” Zelda yelled again, managing to gather enough magic to push the creature’s arm off her. She scampered to her feet, slipping in a small pool of blood before she stood between the creature and Link, flinching back nervously.

She closed her eyes and drew from Link, feeling his gaze on her, feeling his presence. Feeling his wound. She was exposing herself for his sake, and that drew her powers behind her, rearing up.

Her eyes fluttered and her head throbbed, but when she opened her eyes, the creature was outlined perfectly for her rather than a dark mass of limbs, and she sent a burst of bright light at its center, holding it there until it became too much for them both. But she shook with effort, keeping it there a moment longer.

And the creature burst apart into darkness, disappearing like smoke.

She collapsed, and heard Link hit the floor right behind her.

Despite his injury, Link’s eyes were wide on her.

“You?”

“Me.”

The door burst open, as if the creature had been holding it shut, and a hoard of guards poured into her room, followed shortly by the king himself.

“Zelda!” he yelled, pushing past everyone. “What happened?” he shot a look behind him, “Get the physician! They’re hurt!”

Zelda turned to Link, her eyes wide and fearful. He clutched his wound tightly and forced himself to his knee, to bow before the king.

“We heard screams. What happened?” Rhoam asked again, looking around in an effort to find a body. “Was this magic, or did someone escape?”

Link turned to Zelda over his shoulder and saw a tear run down her cheek as she looked at her father, and then at Link.

“It was magic,” Link breathed, realizing just how much it hurt to talk.

“Someone was in my daughter’s room?”

“They…” he froze and turned back to Zelda and then to Rhoam. “It came through the wall behind the Princess’ bed. It was a figure at first, and I stabbed it, but it completely reformed as something else, like it wasn’t really alive. Each time, it got a bit stronger and then…” he stopped and winced, taking a breath and another opportunity to look at Zelda. She was shaking.

“It had the Princess down on the ground, its… arm thing on her throat. And I stabbed it through its head, which made it… well… die, I suppose. It turned to nothing and disappeared. Once it did, its hold on the door must have released because that’s when you came in.”

Zelda’s eyes were locked on Link, wide and afraid and surprised and thankful all at once.

“Link,” she breathed before relieved tears started to rush down her cheeks, and she threw herself into his arms. “Thank you.”

He returned the gesture, biting down the pain it was causing him to do so as one of his arms still covered his bleeding wound. “You’re safe,” he whispered, and she tugged him tighter at the secondary meaning.

Rhoam put his hand on Zelda’s shoulder comfortingly until the physicians ran in and began to take care of the both of them.

That was the last Zelda heard of Link for two weeks while he recovered. She’d spent about a week of that time recovering herself, but it wasn’t until the night shift when she heard his voice sound out behind her door.

“Princess?”

“Link!” she called, hurrying to the door and whipping it open. “You’re back? You’re okay?”

He nodded and patted his chest, as if that proved that it no longer hurt. And with that, she pulled him against her and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Thank the Goddess!” she breathed, letting go to close the door and to back away from him, to give him space from her. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I… you must… I’m… do you remember what happened?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

That almost made her more confused.

“You didn’t tell my father. You said you wouldn’t disobey his orders, even for me. You were meant to tell him about me. What I am. What I can do.”

“You were never the one in danger while I was obeying orders.”

“You’re not… afraid of me?”

He took a step forward and held out his hand to her. “I could never be afraid of you, Zelda.”

She smiled, relief flowing through her just before the rush of butterflies hit. She took his hand and squeezed it, and a deep, unfamiliar longing settled over her. For the first time since her mother died, someone knew about her. And he wasn’t running.

“How long?” he asked. “Have you had… magic?”

“Forever. My mother helped me before she was killed.”

“You had it then? When they ran all those tests?”

She nodded and let go of him so she could sit on the bed. He sat on the other end.

“I saw the flower. That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Was my story that easy to see through?”

“No. I believed you.”

“Just like you did when I told you that thing was in front of me. Why?”

He ran a hand along his face. “I don’t know. I just trust you.” He chuckled to himself. “A lot makes sense now: your attitude towards the deaths, the flower, that day with the horse…”

“You noticed that?”

He grinned. “The tournament?”

She grimaced. “Yes, but he was going to kill that man!”

“That dinner a few months ago?”

“Okay, but she deserved that!”

“My mother getting better?”

Zelda looked away and nodded.

“Thank you. You risked exposing yourself for my family.” He scooted a little closer. “Did you actually do something to that fire breathing guy?”

“I did.”

“You’re incredible.”

“I’m dangerous,” she scoffed, glancing at her door as if her father might pop out at any second.

He reached out and ran his knuckles lightly along the side of her neck where a discolored scar marked where the creature had grabbed her. “I trust you.”

She flinched before settling into his touch. “I think it goes without saying that you can’t tell anyone. My trust, and my life, rest entirely in your hands. And as uncomfortable as I am with that concept, you’re possibly the only one I actually trust with my life.”

Link smirked and blushed, but he tried to play it off. “You don’t trust your other guards?”

“I do, but if anyone other than you had been in here with me, I believe they’d have told my father about me.”

“Well,” he said, standing up. “You don’t have to worry about me. I wouldn’t tell the Goddess herself if She asked.”

He looked in her closet, remembering he had an actual job to do.

Zelda followed him, as she usually did. “If the Goddess asks, you’re allowed to tell.”

“You don’t even need guards, do you? If I wasn’t there, you’d have been fine.”

“Well, I couldn’t find it, so I did need you to stab it. And you’re a very good distraction.”

He stopped and raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“Oh, no, I meant you were good at distracting it! Not that you’re a distraction to me.”

One of his full-toothed smiles graced his face. “I didn’t take it that way, but now I know.”

Groaning, she regretted how often she talked, especially to him.

The path around the room was familiar to her by now, so as Link went to check under her desk, she waved her finger and pushed the chair out of the way for him.

He froze, and it was her turn to be triumphant.

Link gently placed a hand on the chair and glanced under the desk before pushing it back in, determined not to look at her, not to give her that satisfaction.

But she already had it.

[deiliamedlini]

All of Me

Summary: Zelda and Link have been preparing for the return of Ganon for years, but when he finally arrives, their plan is thrown off by the arrival of someone on the battlefield, someone they’re both willing to die for. 

HELLO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH/NOT A TERRIBLY HAPPY ENDING. Maybe stop reading now if you don’t want that! 

(The only reason this oneshot exists is because I was watching Cinema Therapy’s A Quiet Place episode at midnight, and they started crying during that scene at the end, and I was like omg... yes. I want something like that to happen. And then I wanted to write in present tense, and I didn’t want too much dialogue like I usually have, and I couldn’t think of a good name for a character so I just didn’t give him one, and I’m sick, so this is a different style than I usually do because I was kind of bored and idk if it works but we’ll see. Experimenting is fun! Great, glad we’re all on the same page now.)

Ao3 link

Word count: 6170

~~~~

Zelda stares over the parapets as she has done more times in her life than she cares to admit. Her hand lightly traces a circle against the rough stone, but she doesn’t notice because her attention is wholly elsewhere.

When she was a young teenager, she’d hide her face between these same stones so she could watch the soldiers train in secret, amazed by their skill, skills she could never understand. They moved like water, fluidly transitioning from one stance to another. It had entranced her enough that she’d kept coming back.

When she’d gotten a little older, she was still amazed, but her eyes were drawn to one knight in particular, and she didn’t hesitate to focus her attention almost entirely on him. He was young and almost scrawny, shorter than the others. She wondered just how young he was, but the more she’d looked at him, the more she determined that he’d been about her own age. His short blonde hair looked newly sheered, and his eyes shone. That’s what drew her attention most of all. Amidst the training, the swords, the blood, and the pain, he always looked like he was having fun. He enjoyed swinging the sword around and showing off in front of others. He laughed at jokes, and taunted his opponents, but he was easily humbled by loss as well, and graciously accepted defeat.

But before she could even muster the courage to introduce herself, he’d been sent away on some quest. Not long after, she’d been amazed to learn he was the hero of legend: the destined wielder of the Master Sword.

It wasn’t a celebration. The appearance of the Master Sword on a soldier’s back meant oncoming danger, and everyone in Hyrule had gone on alert.

Years passed and Zelda had breached twenty. She’d matured enough that she’d stopped spying on the soldiers or indulging in her own whims, instead focusing on how to unlock her Goddess-given powers. Creatures had begun to appear in Hyrule in droves, and the soldiers were sent away to fight.

“Be careful,” she’d said to almost all of them as they walked past her in a line as they marched out of the safety of the Castle walls.

But Zelda’s training continued the longer time went on, and she’d returned to travelling to the springs to try to open herself to the Goddess.

It was never that easy.

Once half of her guards had been strewn across an open field in an attempt to protect her, Zelda had been caught between a lynel and a cliff. She’d never prayed harder for the Goddess’ divine intervention, begging Her to unlock her powers so she wouldn’t be impaled by the lynel’s horns. She’d already been injured once during that encounter, and she couldn’t move. The Goddess was all she had left.

Zelda did try. Panting, she tried to push herself along the wall, hunched in pain as she felt the gashes in the skin of her back rub together and send her into a near delirious pain. The lynel had clawed at her while it ran past, but Zelda wasn’t keen on dying. It was only when her leg stopped supporting her that she looked up to meet her fate, bloody hands against the grass, sweat on her forehead, a rockface trapping her from behind. The only thing she could do was to keep her eyes on the lynel as it charged at her, hands pushing off the ground for more momentum. She’d held her breath, but never closed her eyes.

Until she was whisked off her feet and toppled to the ground just before she heard the impact of the lynel into the cliff. The creature was too stunned to move, trying to recover from the pain.  

At first, Zelda didn’t know who it was who’d moved her. There was no one beside her, so perhaps it truly had been divine intervention at her behest. She couldn’t feel any of the pain anymore, so perhaps it was the Goddess’ arms embracing her.

But as she took in the lynel, she could see someone on it’s back, bringing it down despite it’s bucking and thrashing until it stilled and slumped over, and the rider hopped off as if he’d just jumped off a bed, entirely too casually.

She was eventually met by steeled blue eyes, deep and unrelenting and unfamiliar until she saw the sword he held in his hand.

The boy from the training yard. The Hero of the Goddesses.

Link.

Perhaps this was what they thought she meant by divine intervention. Their sense of humor agitated her.

But she’d begun to take notice of this knight after her recovery. He’d returned to the castle with her, and he’d become her escort rather quickly anytime she wanted to wander the castle.

He was funny. From his hardened expression, and near permanent non-smile on his face, she’d expected him to have become a droll adult. And he was. In front of everyone except her.

Once she’d been released, Link had also been reassigned. Zelda missed seeing his messy ponytail in front of her when he checked for danger, and his blue earrings that she had the best view of when he was walking beside her for conversation.

So, she’d returned to the parapets and watched him train the newest soldiers before he’d lead them out for some experience. She’d done this for days, comfortable against her arms as she watched it all. She watched him take boys and turn them into soldiers. His hard demeanor was back, and people showed him reverence and respect. He was the epitome of a perfect soldier, following orders, going on raids, training the troops. His eyes were sharp on them, watching for their flaws and correcting them. He even trained on his own, though Zelda didn’t think he needed it. And as he trained, he’d been so focused that she wondered if he’d see the King if he’d been standing beside him.

That was until he’d caught her watching him.

He’d indulged her, toying with her interest. He’d taken off his shirt on hot days while he trained and pretended that he didn’t see her because he knew once he did, she’d blush and leave It left him tense in a whole new way, constantly aware of her as if she were a tangible feeling. And the longer she stayed, the more Link started to feel confident that it was because of him rather than a fluke, and he’d longed to show off for her a bit, throwing himself harder into his practice sessions until he’d return to the barracks drenched in sweat, heaving from exertion with only enough energy left to bathe and make it to his bed.

He’d begun to volunteer as one of her guards whenever she went out to study something, and he’d steal glances when he thought no one was looking. And the times that she did catch him, she’d done nothing to deter him. She’d even egged him on with a sly smile or a returned look. And he’d sat there, mouth tight, longing to smile at her, but that wasn’t something knights did.

Soon, neither was content with flirtatious looks. He’d brush up against her in the hall and she’d never flinch. He’d taken her hand to help her onto her horse and she never pulled away. He’d offered to accompany her almost every time she went out until it practically became his job. They’d gone out alone several times, and those were his favorite days because she’d talk to him, and he’d tell her things he’d never told another soul.

Zelda had liked these moments because they were some of the few times that his hardened gaze cracked and revealed the mischievous glint of the boy she’d once watched train all those years ago. The thing that gave her the most pride was when she could coax the small tipped-up smile that he had when she’d said something that he really liked.

She’d pulled it all from him again and again until they finally realized that this indulgence was mutual, and not just a fantasy in either of their heads.

Zelda had been the one to kiss him first. It had been during a midnight stroll through the newly shaped topiary gardens. The smell alone had made it enticing, freshly cut grass and leaves and the smell of oncoming rain had drawn her out there like she was following a trail. Link had been with her. Link was always with her.

As the Hero, Link held titles that permitted him to court the Princess without any hassle, despite his role as a simple knight, so as soon as they’d brought it to Zelda’s father, he’d given his blessing for the match. By then, they’d spent so much time together that Link no longer masked anything from her in any regard, whether it was smiling when she made him happy, or screaming because he’d become so frustrated with all the expectations that he was forced to carry, and she’d opened up to him completely, from her fears to her insecurities, and her doubts and her desires.

From the time they started officially courting, it was a year before they’d married.

It had been a grand spectacle, and the Kingdom had forgotten their restless vigilance for some unknown danger for that week, turning it into a celebration.

Two years after that, the kingdom celebrated again, this time, for the birth of a prince. Link had been by her side, and it had been the happiest day.

Zelda was bursting with love as she looked on at the small bundle in her arms. He hadn’t opened his eyes for her to see what color they were just yet, but she gingerly stroked the blonde tufts of his hair and caressed his cheek as tears bubbled straight from the depths of her, spilling over with a force and a power she never knew she had in her.

There was a burning in her chest, and she’d cried out. Link took their son from her just before she curled up into a ball and kept screaming.

Someone had taken the baby, because Link was holding her now. And then, he wasn’t. He’d sat back to marvel at her as she glowed like the sun, and energy radiated off of her like relentless waterfall, beating down until it was all Link could feel.

Zelda had opened her eyes, and for a moment, they were as golden as her hair while she marveled at her own hand, at the light that was emanating off of her before her eyes settled back into their usual verdant green.

Zelda breathed heavily before she gasped, “He’s returned,” and then promptly passed out in Link’s arms.

Sure enough, the day of their son’s birth had begun it all: Zelda’s powers unlocked, Ganon had been released, and Link began to hear the Master Sword inside his head. They’d never figured out what event had triggered it all. Had it been the birth itself? Had Zelda’s powers unlocked when she held her son? Had Ganon done something that triggered Zelda’s powers to unlock? That was one riddle they’d never solved.

For years, they trained and waited. Ganon was out there, gathering his strength, becoming more of a threat with every passing year.

So now, as Zelda stares over the parapets, she’s not just watching Link train, but she’s watching him with their son.

He’s barely eight years old, but he was born with his father’s natural abilities with a sword. Zelda wonders if that’s some divine curse. Because while she has always admired Link’s physical strength, his courage, and his leadership skills, she didn’t want her son leading an army into war one day, and his father might.

Their son always favored Link in appearance. From the shape of his face, to his nose and his mouth, he is doubtlessly Link’s son. But his eyes are all Zelda. There isn’t a trace of Link in their son’s eyes.

He’s good at fighting for someone his age, but he’s still just a child, and Link is a legendary accomplished swordsman. So while Zelda can see Link give their son somewhat of a challenge for a while, Link relents and falls to his knees, pretending that he’d been brought down by the training sword of a young boy. And it brings their son far too much joy to have bested his father, throwing his hands up in victory.

Zelda can see them both laughing, and in the distance, she can even hear it faintly. It brings on a wide smile that she can’t stop from spreading. Her heart hurts from the strain of loving them both so much because they are her whole heart and it’s overflowing.

Link pulls their son down, playfully wrestling him and then letting him win again. Link covers his eyes as if he’s embarrassed by the loss, but then he sees Zelda and his expression immediately softens and adoration is written all over him. He pulls their son into his lap to get him out of the dirt and points to Zelda. She can see Link say the word ‘mom’ before they both wave to her.

She’s so full of love for them both that she’s actually concerned that she could burst apart. She waves back and blows them two kisses. Link catches them and their son laughs as Link places the kiss on both their cheeks before his arms tuck his son against him and he plants his own on the boy’s cheek. He’s laughing wildly now, and Zelda can’t tell if Link has kissed him, or given him a raspberry. Either way, she laughs with them until Link has them waving goodbye at her as he sets their son on his feet and takes his hand to lead him back into the castle.

That night, she sits up in bed and throws herself onto Link. He laughs because she’s laughing too, and she traces patters along his face, his jaw, his ears, his neck, and his chest until he’s practically purring like a contented cat. She just wants to admire him, maybe taunt him a little with her hand trailing lower, which she does. But all of it is enough that Link can’t contain himself, pulling her tightly and flipping them over as his lips roam all the places that she’d just teased on him.

He pulls off her nightdress, and she’s scattered his clothes. There’s something sudden and desperate about the way they hold one another that night. Zelda can feel it in his tight grip and in her deep kisses. It’s there every time their eyes meet, and their names have never sounded sweeter on the other’s lips.

They fall asleep, as tangled up in each other and intertwined until there’s no discerning who’s limbs belong to who. It’s tight, and it’s constricting, but they’re both at peace, needing to feel the other as much as humanly possible.

An urgent knock on the door wakes them. They both sit up quickly, but the door opens before they can say ‘come in’, so Zelda pulls up the covers for modesty and waits. It’s Impa, their closest friend and advisor, second hand of the King, and their son’s tutor.

She barely spares a glance at the state they’re in because she’s breathing too heavily, and her eyes are unseeing, despite how wide they’d gone.

“He’s here,” is all Impa can manage before Link has already reached for his discarded things, and Zelda’s eyes scan their room for her armor.

She tells Impa to protect their son until they can get there, and they move faster than they’d ever moved before. Link is in his full armor, plates, chainmail, gauntlets, Master Sword. Zelda wears chainmail and a breastplate that covers all the way up to her neck so no sword or arrow can near her heart.

Zelda pushes past Link to grab their son and carries him in her arms, despite his gangly legs dangling because it’s clear that one day, he’ll have his mother’s height as well as her eyes.

Link grabs Zelda’s arm to lead them through the halls that they know well, and head to the predetermined location. Impa watches their back, and Link watches their front. They all know their roles, where to be, who will follow who. This day had been foretold little over a decade ago, and they certainly had time to plan it all.

They meet in the council chambers where the King is already waiting with his own guards. His shoulders sag in relief when he sees his grandson is safe, and then he leans against a table that contains a map.

Zelda sets their son down, and whether she knew she was doing it or not, her arms become his shield, covering the soft skin of his neck while her other arm passes over his heart while she presses him against her in a comforting embrace, though her eyes are on the map.

Link’s hand rests on the back of their son’s head, soothing him with a gentle motion of his thumb, even subconsciously remembering to be gentle with all his heavy armor on, because like Zelda, his attention is on the map.

Impa lays it all out. Ganon is in Hyrule Field, making his way towards the castle with unprecedented speed. It’s all Link needs to hear before he kisses Zelda and their son, whispering ‘I love you’ in both their ears before he hurries to the garrison to lead the troops out.

Zelda wishes he’d held her longer, but she kneels down to kiss her son long on the forehead before wiping away some of his nervously fallen tears. They might have been prepared for over a decade, but he hadn’t been.

She runs her hand through his dark blonde hair and lets herself get lost in how it feels, memorizing every strand as best she can.

“Go with Impa. She has armor that you have to wear, but you’ll be safe. It’s just to keep you safer. You stay with your guards.”

“Don’t go,” he pleads, his eyes wide as more tears spill, and she can feel a weight sitting heavily against her, demanding she stay with him.

She has to fight every instinct in her body just to shake her head. “Oh, My Heart, I can’t stay. Who else will protect you and daddy?”

“You have to,” he relents quickly. Because he knows that if there are two people who are capable of protecting the whole world, it’s his parents. He doesn’t know about their Goddess blessings, but he knows that they’re everything in his eyes.

“I do. And when this is done, we’ll both come find you.”

“Do you promise?” he whispers, his voice trembling.

Zelda freezes. She can’t promise that. She wants to ease his heart, but she knows that a false promise could just as easily break it if the worst should happen. He’s a child, but he has to know. “We will both do everything we possibly can to come back to you. That I can promise you.”

If he can tell that she’s dodged his question, he doesn’t show it because he nods and wraps his arms around her neck.

Zelda fights back tears for his sake and picks him up before walking over to one of her most trusted guards. “Take him back. Keep him safe,” she says as she pries his arms from her and transfers him to the knight.

“I love you, so much. Listen to them. Listen to Impa,” she whispers and kisses his cheek once more before the knight has him tight.

The knight isn’t unfamiliar, but their son struggles and begins to wail as he realizes their leaving is actually happening.

He screeches her name again and again until echoes of ‘mommy’ have faded out from the distance.

Zelda sobs and clutches her hair and her chest as she feels her heart crack. With him out of sight, she can break down, and the cool ground is against her legs as she lets herself fall.

There are arms around her, and Rhoam is holding her the same way she’d held her own son. He runs a hand through his daughter’s hair. “This is how you protect him,” he whispers. “It hurts. Don’t I know it? But this is how we protect everyone we love.”

She knows its true, but it doesn’t hurt any less. She buries herself into her father’s neck, careful of the armor on his shoulder. Waves of empathy crash over her when she realizes he’s sending his only child into battle against an unspeakable evil that only she and Link can vanquish, and he can do nothing but shield her back with the troops.

And besides Link, there’s no one else she trusts more with her life.

He helps her to her feet and holds out his hand. A guard hands him a great royal claymore that he sheathes on his back so he can walk with his arm around her until they reach the point when they must part ways.

He nods once to her, and she returns the gesture as he hurries off.

Now that she’s here, and the doors are right in front of her, she feels a new sense of resolve and steel settle over her. She’d learned from Link how to protect herself years ago, so despite her magic, a guard hands her a sword and she pulls the belt around her waist while her guards surround her and the doors open.

The sky is a bloody red, with clouds swirling like they’re caught in the vortex of a tornado, only wholly unnatural. The air is thick and stale to the point where Zelda has to smack her lips together to keep them wet. It’s almost a challenge to walk, like there’s an unseen force trying to hold her back, but she pushes through until they’re all in place.

Her father appears on the battlefield just in front of her, leading her last line of defense. She can see Link on a horse beside a battalion of troops, and he’s calling something to them, and they scream something back and stamp their spears into the ground twice. He isn’t allowed to lead them out into the field because he has to be the one to fight Ganon.

Over the horizon, a dark mass begins to take shape, and Zelda winces when she realizes it’s his own forces, running towards them. Link urges his troops forward, though they’re led by another. He looks back and she knows he’s looking directly at her until something draws his attention away in the distance.

Zelda sees it too.

Ganon.

A beast of unimaginable proportions, tendrils of darkness whipping around, emerges over the horizon and lets out a deafening roar that pierces Zelda’s eardrums even from this distance.

Her eyes are locked on the beast, and she feels that it knows exactly where she and Link are.

It takes a while for it to make its way all the way to them, but the plan had always been to let the soldiers try to bring it down or weaken it before they had to step in. Zelda sees a thousand arrows lodged in its skin, seemingly unaffected by any of them. Malice poured off of it, and Zelda took a deep breath before it thickened the air.

She pushes forward past her father to make her way towards Link. She knows this is their fight now, not the soldiers’.

Ganon is still not close enough, but they’re going to let him come to them.

Link’s horse spooks the next time Ganon’s ear-shattering roar rings out, and he hops off just in time before it bolts.

Zelda’s beside him and takes his hand as they wait. Link is conserving his strength, she knows. Now that he has no horse, he’ll have to run faster and harder.

Ganon towers over them, even though it still has a little way to go. For a moment, Zelda’s heart lurches, feeling there’s no way to possibly do this. She feels Link’s grip tighten, but she isn’t positive whether it’s to reassure her, or himself.

They’re so focused. They’re ready.

But Ganon’s attention snaps off of them and off to its left before it completely readjusts itself.

Confused, Zelda follows its gaze and she nearly collapses into Link. Because standing in the field with a sword and shield that hardly fit in his hands is their son. His armor is snug on him, but he’s added a helmet.

Behind him, guards are screaming and chasing him, but both Link and Zelda have already begun running.

He’s just standing there, shield out and feet spaced perfectly as Link had taught him. And he’s not running, even when Ganon slinks towards him. He takes several steps back, but that’s all.

Zelda thought she’d moved quickly to change into her armor, but nothing compares to the speed their feet carry them to get to their son.

Ganon’s neck twists as he watches them, and a tendril whips out in their direction. Link pushes Zelda forward and raises his shield, covering her as she passes before he’s following again.

Another tendril races toward her, but she doesn’t slow, only raises her hand and sends out a pulse to redirect the tendril away. Something moves quickly toward her son, and she skids to her knees to cover them both with a domed burst of energy, and she lets out a cry because it hurts her as Ganon’s hand flinches away, also in pain.

“Why are you here?” she asks in a panic, but she doesn’t want an answer and pushes him toward Link. “Get to dad! Go!”

But Ganon recovers too quickly, and Zelda sees two tendrils headed for her and her son.

She’s never tried to split her magic into two locations, but she tries now and it doesn’t work. The choice is easy enough as she sends out a pulse to shield her son, only to feel all of the air rush from her lungs in an instant.

Her nose throbs and she’s crying because she can’t help how much it hurts. Her back is crushed under the tendril, and while the impact hurt, the malice all along the tentacle is burning her skin as it holds her down.

She can hear two other screams of her name, and she rolls as best she can to angle her hand. She screams, and it’s not a pulse, but a beam this time, one that severs the tendril and it disappears into nothing.

Ganon roars again, but this time it’s different. It’s not rage, but pain. It slinks backwards to recuperate.

“Zelda!” Link breathes, helping her up.

Zelda sees their son gripping Link’s tunic, white knuckled and wide eyed.

“Get him out!” she screams, pushing Link away from her.

Link has a hand fisted on their son’s shirt, but he doesn’t move. “I can’t hit that thing. Not even with the sword.”

“What?” she breathes.

Ganon is back on its feet, and its skulking.

Zelda looks back at her family. It doesn’t matter where they are, because if Link can’t hit Ganon, they’re all dead anyway.

She shakes her arms out, fighting past all the pain that threatens to send her spiraling into the darkness. “I can hold him off and strip the malice, but you have to get our son out of here first.”

Ganon no longer bothers with the tendrils and charges at them on all fours.

Zelda steps in front of her family and screams as the most powerful beam of light she’d ever controlled pulsates out of her like a steady heartbeat. It hurts when Ganon hits it, but she is too busy looking at Link.

He’s shaking his head because he can see it already. Her face is getting pale and the light is draining from her.

“Link,” she says desperately, “You have to protect him. Our job is to protect him. So, you do your part and I’ll do mine. Get him out!”

Link hoists their son into his arms, heedless of his sobs as he reaches out for Zelda. Link holds him and starts to back away. “I’m coming back. Promise me you’ll hold out.”

“I love you,” she says instead, her eyes flickering between them both. Because that’s another promise she can’t make to them. But she can tell them the truth.

“I love you,” he returns before he’s running with their son.

Zelda sees them escape her peripheral vision and she can focus on the malice rather than simply holding Ganon back.

Removing the malice is as painful as if she’s removing her own skin, and she’s shrieking because she can feel it burn her arms the more she pushes it back. Ganon is writhing in pain, and it pushes her so hard that her foot slides back.

Zelda can feel that she’s used most of her strength. She can’t hold on forever, and she knows what she has to do for Link.

She focuses everything she has left into her center, feels it worming around her chest and caressing her heart. She smiles because she can feel her feet leave the ground as she collects every remnant of energy that isn’t being sucked in by the malice. It warms her and blocks everything else out so she can’t hear Link yell for her. But she’s gathered it all.

And she sends it directly at Ganon’s heart.

The malice peels away, and Zelda falls from the air and collapses into a clump.

Link freezes over her, but there’s no time to check on her because he’s not going to let Zelda’s efforts be in vain.

He swings at Ganon’s arm first because the beast is trying to stand and rear back again. The Master Sword cuts through easily without the malice shielding it, and when Ganon falls, Link goes to the other claw to make sure that if Ganon wants to get up, it’s going to have to do so with a struggle, not a limp.

He rushes toward Ganon’s chest and drives the sword straight up. Ganon screams and swats Link away. Far away.

He’s winded and his head throbs because he realizes he’d hit a tree. But he staggers to his feet and pushes the sword into the grass as he limps back. He can feel his Goddess-blessing taking over him, and he moves faster, he ignores the pain.

And he slides under the struggling beast, letting his sword rip through the exposed skin, letting the blood and internal malice seep out as Link grits his teeth and grabs one of the sharp scale-like pieces of armor that cover where Link approximates its shoulder is. He uses it to pull himself up and takes the beast’s pained position as an opportunity. He makes his way to the front, and plunges the Master Sword down, like he’s returning it to where it sleeps.

Ganon thrashes for a moment, and Link is thrown.

The grass is cold on his cheek, but he knows he’s done it this time because Ganon is beginning to literally shrivel as the malice practically melts away.

Link doesn’t even care when the sky begins to return to blue. He’s scrambling over to Zelda and cradles her in his lap.

Her mouth is open as her head hangs back. Her eyes have already glassed over and her skin is greyed because she’s used everything she had to take this thing down.

The sound Link lets out is guttural, and he screams like a wounded animal begging for help. He has her pressed against his chest, and the second he realizes he can’t feel her heartbeat, he has to scramble away from her because he wretches into the grass while tears burn his eyes and he can’t breathe because there’s no air left in the world.

And then he hears another cry that’s not his, and he crawls back to Zelda, but it’s not hers.

He scrambles to his feet, but he can’t make it and slips back into the grass just in time to catch their son and tuck the little boy’s head into his chest, regardless of any blood or if the armor was scratching him. Scratches would heal. Blood would come off. But seeing his mother lifeless in the grass would never go away.

Using everything in him, Link gets up, his knees shaking as he carries his son away, one hand preventing the boy’s head from moving while the other supports him.

Guards flock to his side, helping him to walk inside because Link refuses to let go.

With his son there, he has to stay strong enough to get through. He can’t rush to Zelda and cradle her forever, like he wishes he could. He can’t curl up into a ball and cry, because his son is already crying and he needs to be strong enough to be there for him.

It isn’t until Link is alone in their room that he lets it out. He’d had half his heart torn out and destroyed, and he felt that as if it were a physical pain that was going to bring him to his knees.

If there was an object in his way, he breaks it. He pulls all the sheets and the pillows off because they still smell like her. He overturns the mattress because that was where they slept. He kicks the couch into the table because she’d read there and stroke his hair while he sat in front of her after a long day. He hits the wall until his knuckles bled so he can feel pain anywhere else, and then sinks to the floor because there is nothing he can hit to get her out of his memories.

It’s his fault. His. He left her. He couldn’t break through the malice without he, and it had cost her everything.

No. Not everything.

It’s enough to help calm his breathing and he shakily stands up. It’s then that he realizes there’s an audience in the doorway, eyes downturned because they are only making sure he is okay while still trying to offer him the privacy to grieve however he needs to.

He pushes past them.

He’s clean now, because Rhoam had ordered him to wash up before he locked himself in his own room as well.

Link isn’t quiet when he opens the door to their son’s room and sees him sitting up, shoulders shaking as he cries. Link wastes no time moving to sit on the bed and pulling the boy into his arms because Link is crying too and he could use a tight hug almost as much as his son.

“Was it my fault?” the boy asks after a long time.

Link pulls away, appalled that it even crossed his mind. He can’t control his face well enough, because his son looks away, ashamed or embarrassed.

“No,” Link finally croaks out. Because it’s his fault. “No,” he says again, more firmly. “It’s not your fault. Don’t ever think that. It was no one’s fault but Ganon’s.”

The boy finally looks up at Link with Zelda’s wide green eyes and Link chokes before pulling his son back to his chest.

“I wanted to protect you both,” the boy whispers, and Link breaks a little more.

“It’s not your fault. You did protect us. You have no idea just how much you protected us.”

“I want her back.”

“Me too.” Link tries to discretely wipe his eyes. “Hey, tomorrow might feel worse, okay? We’re going to wake up and she’s not going to be here and it’s going to be really sad. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be sad and hurt. But we’ll get through it, okay? You’ve got me. You’ve got your grandad. I just want you to be prepared.”

“Okay,” he whispers, because he understands the words, but the feelings don’t register to him yet.

“Hey,” he says, nudging him. “Can I stay in here tonight?”

His son looks up at him, and it’s Zelda’s eyes again. Link has to blink, because he can see her face for a moment. But his son is nodding, so Link crawls over him and gets comfortable before opening up his arm. His son crawls in and Link rubs his back to try to soothe him while he spends the night crying into Link’s shirt until he falls asleep.

But Link is in pain, physically and mentally, and rubbing their son’s back is the only thing that’s keeping him grounded.

It’s a long time until his eyes close, but they’re burning from the tears and they’re begging him to close them.

And when he does, he can almost feel a cool hand ghost along his forehead, smoothing his hair back with a familiar comfort.

And he dreams of Zelda.