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ashleyswrittenwords · 5 years ago

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Correlation Doesn’t Imply Causation

Another Zelink Oneshot

Commissioned by @truffeart :)

Post-BOTW fluff with needless angst mixed in

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It took time for the people of Hateno to warm up to the presence of the Princess with the blood of the goddess. They were folks of the countryside where the strangest occurrences had been the occasional Goron traveller or the time a youngster swore up and down that one of the cattle could speak. Miffed hadn’t covered their wonder when the mysterious young man who had brought the decaying house by the cliffs brought home a wide-eyed blonde who suspiciously met the description of the fabled princess.

The man had only stayed in the house for short periods of time, typically buying out Pruce’s stock of arrows and visiting the odd scientist at the peak of the village. A wild, insatiable heart for adventure was something to be expected and the older gossip mongers suspected he would bring back a woman from his travels. What they hadn’t expected was his bashful admittance the day after to Ivee and her mother that he was last century’s fallen hero, that Calamity had been vanquished, and that Princess Zelda was resting in his house.

When one person knows something in Hateno, everyone does.

Initially, it was something Zelda worried extensively about. One-hundred years. Would she be out of touch? Even worse, would they see her as a monster? During her excessive ramblings, the latter question made Link do a double take and immediately steer her off the topic. He had been awake for a little over a year and reassured her that the people of Hateno were harmless, but for the first couple weeks he didn’t dispute her flimsy excuses to stay in the home when he went out on short errands.

Actually, he was very supportive of her. Link’s love for cooking had turned into more of a passion and he had easily taken the mantle of the house chef. She could tell he allowed her to do menial tasks like dicing onions so she could feel helpful, and it worked. While out to gather ingredients for meals, he brought back gardening and sewing supplies to supplement her time; even taking her measurements and returning with three colorful Hateno dresses.

And Zelda was thankful, so thankful that after two weeks she let Link introduce her to the people he knew. She had slinked a couple paces behind him, uncomfortable by the stares once they reached the main road. Amira, the wife of the general store owner, had laughed during their brief introduction, “Nack was going around spreading rumors that you glowed in the dark. I don’t suppose that’s true?”

With a wobbly smile, Zelda affirmed that it hadn’t been true. The day got easier after that. People realized they weren’t going to witness anything other than a socially anxious girl and went about their chores as if nothing happened. Of course, she also dissuaded formal titles and told them she wanted to be a normal person for as long as possible before piecing together the kingdom that had already been underway by the Sheikah.

The days went by slow, but the months sped by her. Before she knew it, Link had woken her up to the smell of herbal tea and fruitcake - sweets in the morning had always been her guilty pleasure.

“Happy three months,” Link said with a hum as he set out some plates.

Blearily, she smiled and took a seat at the table to watch him work. “Has it really been that long?”

He barely nodded. “Official this evening.”

She observed him from behind. A soft hum smoothed over their silence and she allowed herself to enjoy this less guarded Link. He talked more often. It seemed to come naturally to him now.

Zelda let herself melt into the wooden chair and thanked herself for making patterned seat cushions. It wasn’t uncommon that she took in her surroundings, comparing what she lost to what she has now. Materially, it was a deficit but never did she feel so complete. There was no real goal other than to just be.

They ate in a comfortable silence, both still wearing what they slept in.

When noon rolled around, she disappeared upstairs to pull on a deep green dress with sewn in flower patterns and jotted down a list of items to pick up from East Wind.

“Do you not wish to accompany me?” she asked, tying a rupee pouch to her belt. There wasn't any accusation in her voice, merely simple curiosity due to his affinity to keeping by her side. And, admittedly, she did enjoy his company.

“As much as I do,” he grumbled shortly as he tapped the Sheikah slate repeatedly. “Impa sent a letter last week that travelling merchants were having bokoblin issues in the mountain pass.”

Link wore his riding trousers and a simple Hylian tunic. Without words, they had both understood that she had claimed his Champion tunic to sleep in after days of mending. Her heart sank, it meant the shrines weren’t working today and he would need to ride horseback.

He seemed to read her mind, reaching to thread his fingers passed her ear and through her shortened locks. A commonality after she decided thigh-length hair wasn’t practical anymore.

“I should be back at nightfall. Will… you be okay?”

It was a question born of genuine concern despite the knowledge that she was fully capable of cooking and caring for herself, but he needed that affirmation for himself and she was fully willing to allow him that. When she nodded, he pulled away and she mourned the loss of warmth. Zelda forced the corners of her lips upward. The sight reassured him.

“Be careful,” she chided once he packed a small bag and swung onto his horse. Link looked down at her, grinning as if he knew something she did not. “I mean it. Don’t do anything rash.”

“I know,” he breathily said, “I won’t.”

The manner in the way he spoke sounded like her nagging had caused him great exhaustion, which elicited a playful swat at his leg.

“Tonight?” she said, sounding more like a statement than a question.

Unwavering cobalt eyes fixated on her. A chaste nod. They didn’t say much more by the time he secured the reins in one hand and urged the horse into a slight trot. Soon he was over the bridge and down the road. By the time she retrieved her basket, he had long disappeared into the Hateno woods.

Autumn made herself known in the tree leaves that were displaced by Zelda’s steps and the chill that bit her cheeks. She fell in love with the season all over again. Ivee’s voice was clear as day once she stepped on the village road. Two people on horseback road passed her towards the inn up ahead. They politely nodded to the woman as she shouted out today’s discounts and carried on their way.

Ivee grimaced at their backs and stiffened at Zelda’s footsteps. Suddenly, with a bright smile, she twisted around to ring out a warm invitation.

Zelda offered a weak wave when the greeter’s face fell. “Sorry.”

The store owner’s daughter waved her apology away with a sigh and continued sweeping away fallen leaves from the doorstep. “Don’t be. Dad’s been on me more about getting newcomers in before the first snow.”

“Is business bad?” she asked, taking a glance about the area. There were more people than usual.

“Quite the opposite, it’s our busiest season,” Ivee pursed her lips in thought before gesturing towards the door with a scowl. “He’s always like this. Thinkin’ we’re missing out on customers if I don’t lose my voice by sunset.”

Zelda’s shoulders bounced with silent laughter as Ivee leaned back on her heels to wipe sweat from her brow.

“I saw Link leave not too long ago,” the brunette raised her brow. “Seemed to be in a hurry.”

A shrug was Zelda’s answer as she said, “I suppose Kakariko is having a monster problem and, well, you know how he is.”

She grinned wryly, “Can’t ignore a damsel in distress?”

The basket swung with Zelda’s idle swaying and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, no,” she considered, then remembered why she came by. “Have the truffles been restocked?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ivee pouted, “I tried to save some yesterday before they sold out again, but Dad nearly lost his head.”

“I appreciate the thought, Ivee,” Zelda hummed in contemplation. She’d have to do something else for dinner.

The woman looked down, then hazel eyes shot up to hers with an idea.

“Nikki’s daughters go truffle hunting down in the lower forest. Such troublemakers, those girls,” Ivee mumbled the latter notion under her breath. “But now that moblins aren’t as much of an issue, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you tagged along.”

“I’d love to, but Link has still been wary about me straying too far from the village. I’d rather not give him a heart attack.” And Zelda wasn’t too keen on wandering far without him; the Yiga were still active on the roads outside the village. Until now, they were careful to keep a low profile.

Ivee sighed and leaned on her broom. Wistfully, she smiled, “I wish I had a protective husband like you. You would think I could find a respectable man already, but everyone our age in this town has the maturity of a child.”

The basket in Zelda’s hands froze mid-sway. “I beg your pardon?”

She didn’t seem to notice the change in the blonde’s body language and went on to stare off, “Link is so protective of you. Zelda, you’re lucky to have snatched up a man like that early on. I’m starting to think I’m either horribly unlucky or Calamity Ganon made them extinct.”

Surely her ears weren’t mistaken.

Husband?

Snatched up?

The woven wood splints of the basket handle dug into her palm, but she carefully guarded her expression - a testament to her upbringing.

“There’s plenty of agreeable men in the village garrison,” she said, trying to shrug off the odd feeling. “I can make Link put in a good word for you.”

Ivee quirked her lips to the side, “I don’t know, Zee… but honestly I have nothing to lose. Will being into soldier types make me as smart as you?”

They laughed it off and Zelda politely excused herself with a slight stiffness. From East Wind, she picked up grains and milk while making sure to leave a good report to Pruce of Ivee’s behalf. On her way out, Pruce chuckled.

“Send my regards to your better half!”

Her brows scraped the highest reaches of her forehead, but Zelda quickly reeled herself in and sent a bright smile behind her. As she walked down the road with the sales shouting of Ivee behind her, she felt the shock of their assumptions settle into a stark warmth against the chill air.

There were several variables that insinuated… a very misconstrued aspect of her relationship with Link. The tips of Zelda’s ears flared. But, no, she was a scientist and understood that correlation did not mean causation. It could simply be an assumption drawn from Amira and Pruce’s household only.

“Zelda!”

She jumped at the hiss, spinning towards its direction and coming face to face with Nikki. The woman gripped her wrist and dragged her around the corner of a house. Then, Amira popped up from behind a barrel.

“You’re good!” she loudly whispered. “He didn’t notice.”

“Who didn’t notice?” Zelda said, making Nikki momentarily panic when her voice was too loud for her liking. The antics of the two women were fairly normal, but this situation was entirely new.

Amira, who was glaring around the bend, appeared again with shifty eyes. “There’s a man going around asking nearly every woman on a date.”

Nikki puffed out her chest victoriously. “You’re lucky. He got distracted by the innkeeper’s daughter. He kept going on about boots. His boots this, his boots that. My goodness, he’s fortunate he didn’t pull that on me. My Nacky would have let him have it.”

“O-Oh,” Zelda exchanged glances between the two of them. “Thank you.”

“Absolutely, darling,” Amira proudly declared. “We wouldn’t want Link running around trying to find the man who wanted to steal you from him, now would we? It’d be bad for business.”

Before Zelda knew it, she was nodding vehemently. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

She most certainly did not know what they meant. At all. Quickly, she bid them a good day and began her way up the slopes to the Sheikah lab. Despite Amira and Nikki’s warning, the boot man never appeared to steal her away.

Purah’s squeaky voice was heard above the ticking of gears as Zelda pushed open the doors. Calculating brown eyes met hers, “I was wondering if you’d ever visit me.”

“I was here yesterday.”

She still appeared to be a child, but Zelda noticed she was taller than the prior day. From her stool, she squinted down into the cavernous body of a small guardian. It had long been deactivated by Link before he defeated Calamity Ganon, and Zelda was set to use it for a better purpose than rotting in a junkyard.

The Sheikah waved her off, “Did your potion make only my mind older because I distinctly remember Symin being the only one here.”

Symin barely looked up from a diagram, “She was here for four hours, Purah.”

All the scientist did was hum a tune. Zelda helped herself to the desk space she had occupied a day before. Scattered across it were miscellaneous notes in Zelda and Purah’s handwriting. Small illustrations were more prevalent in Purah’s more recent studies. At least her physical form was growing older and the blonde was quick to scribble down her observations.

Beyond that, however, Zelda grew relentlessly distracted. Any progress was dashed when she remembered how they referred to Link. Three desperate attempts to read through the same paragraph were thwarted by the time she slammed the book shut, unable to get the notion of being married out of her head.

Husband. Husband? That would make her his wife, logically. But what wasn’t logical would be the ability to fathom this idea in the first place.

“Symin,” she suddenly said, catching the larger man’s attention. He swiveled a bit in his stool to face her.

“Do you need another reference?” He was referring to the Guardian mandible in his lap.

Zelda shook her head before choosing her words carefully.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?”

“Um,” Symin wrinkled his nose and gazed up at the ceiling above. “Uh, I have very little on the subject. Why ask me?”

“Don’t hit on my assistant, Zelly,” Purah’s voice echoed from within the Guardian body she was dismantling. “I’ll tell on you to Linky.”

That made Zelda place her hands on the table and partially stand. The metal parts lying on her skirt clattered to the ground.

“So, you think we’re married too?” She was louder than she usually was with a tone of finality.

Symin nearly gawked, “You aren’t?”

“No!”

“You aren’t?” Purah echoed, popping her white head of hair out of the sea of wheels and cogs.

“Purah you should know this!”

“Zelly, you must know old women don’t poke their noses into other people’s business! Consider it an educated guess.”

Zelda groaned, falling back into her seat with her head in her hands.

The researcher’s assistant beside her shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“Well,” he started, then stopping and starting again. “It must have been another dramatization when the story began spreading across Hyrule.”

“What’s the story say then?” she said, defeat in her stature and embarrassment on her cheeks. “I might as well know how it was told.”

Purah had fully reemerged now, her clothes stained from oil. She wriggled onto the table. “Something something, before the Princess’s birthday,” she sang, “the goddesses something something and under the watchful eye of Hylia they eloped or whatever.”

“We eloped?”

“I don’t know!” Purah threw up her short arms. “That’s what the bird said!”

“Look,” Symin steered her away from his mentor. “Maybe it’d be best if you got home and explained it to Link before he hears it from someone else.”

She considered it. He was right. Zelda should rip the bandaid off early on, then the awkwardness could pass faster.

Right?

“I will say, I was hurt that I wasn’t invited,” Purah pouted, handing Zelda her basket. “But remember that when there’s a real wedding.”

She didn’t have the emotional energy to argue at that point.

It had been hours since she had ascended the cliff and now the impending sunset brought dropping temperatures. The clouds over the sea hadn’t lightened her mood either.

By the time Zelda returned home, night had fallen outside and it caused her to assume that Link was wise enough to spend it in Kakariko. He knew she didn’t like the thought of him riding past dusk.

She waited until small bubbles manifested over the sea of oil and melted the butter for her mind to wander. It wasn’t… imposterous to make inferences based on their interactions. After all, they had known one another for over one-hundred years (with all minor happenstances abiding). Perhaps it was only natural that they developed their familiar bond.

Zelda had difficulties with darkness and he, with sleep, so it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence that she made herself a space amongst his makeshift pallets by the hearth, nor him in her bed in the loft. How many times has that happened?

Many times. Most nights.

The heat on her face was quickly blamed on the simmering risotto base. Gradually, she stirred in the rice and spices, copying the movements she’s seen Link do before.

Besides, sleeping together - no, merely sharing the same proximity - was born of necessity. There were plenty of activities a married couple performed that they didn’t. Nikki and Nack called one another the most egregious nicknames. Zelda nodded to herself, stirring the contents of the pan with fervor. That was something they never did.

They were comfortable roommates. Who slept together on the occasion.

And who shared lingering touches when words didn’t suffice.

She was wary to confess the feelings she harbored for those small moments when he’d brush the side of her cheek and down the length of her hair; the only times she regretted her dubious haircut. And maybe she did enjoy the opportunities to remind him to shave by cupping his cheek in her hand. Thrill wedged itself in her heart when he leaned further into her touch.

Discomfort sat at the bottom of her stomach. Zelda frowned deeply. The familiar sensation of impending disappointment ebbed at her.

The door at the head of the room clambered open, revealing the sheets of rain falling from the heavens. Boots stomped a couple steps on the hard-wood and the door shut more gently than it opened.

“I’m sorry,” a chilled, but deeply familiar voice said. “I’m late.”

Zelda sat back on her haunches, taking Link in as he peeled off his sopping cloak. His shoulders shook as the rain had long set into his clothes.

“Link,” she whined. “Hylia above, what have I told you about riding in the rain? Especially in this weather!”

“I know,” he grinned wryly at her from across the room. “And I nearly rented a room, but then goddesses told me you were cooking tonight.”

She would have chastised him further and ran to grab him an extra change of clothes, but her previous thoughts pounded in the back of her brain and the steady bubbling of risotto kept her in her place.

“You’re too much for me,” she huffed, barely looking at him. “Can you check to see if this is done?”

Suddenly, his breath was right next to her ear. “I’ll move out anytime you want me to.”

A pause.

“It’s perfect, Zel.”

Her hand stilled in its stirring. There went the nickname criteria.

Zelda caught his eye and his amused expression deflated slightly. She blinked, “This is your house.”

A small crease formed between is brow. “And?”

“And,” she emphasized, “you’re going to catch a chill in your own home if you don’t change.”

Link didn’t move immediately and she could feel his stare, but eventually he relented to her nagging. She could hardly hear him shuffle about the room once his boots were removed. When Zelda pulled the pan from the fire, he was descending down the loft in a simple cloth shirt and trousers.

“Did I do something?” he said, idling by the foot of the stairs.

That had made her brow furrow and her frown to deepen.

“No,” she nonchalantly answered, throwing down a potholder on the table with more force than needed.

He eyed her from the cabinet and pulled out a couple plates.

“I am fine,” she copied his stare and could tell the question was on the tip of his tongue. Still, he held her gaze from across the room. Zelda pressed the appropriate silverware onto the placemats.

“Link, stop that. I’m fine.”

When he closed the distance to put the appropriate plates on their mats, he hadn’t yielded to her reassurances and took note on the way she stepped away to give him extra room.

Annoyance wormed into Zelda’s chest and she dimly noticed that this manner of interrogation was used before.

“Have I done anything?” Link asked again, genuinely this time. “Because I’m sorry if I worried you.”

It was a wonder how this was the same man who could take on three lynels at once. She only knew because she’s seen it. The fire was there when he stared down Ganon after a year of waking up from a century of slumber, it hadn’t stifled the flame in his eyes. But now, he was careful with her. The blue of his eyes was soft, gentle and fully willing to apologize when there was nothing he did wrong.

“No,” she said, forcing herself to match his demeanor because it wasn’t fair for her own troubles to affect him. “No, you haven’t.”

His follow up question didn’t need a voice.

“I heard something in town and,” she stopped to let her stiff shoulders sag. “I don’t think you’ll like it.”

Gods, she sounded like she was a child about to admit to breaking something. As she said the words, she realized that the idea itself hadn’t bothered her. What had bothered her was his potential reaction.

Zelda could say they were friends, even close friends, but lovers? Spouses? The pull of her heart at the thought scared her.

Disappointment. There would be disappointment in his eyes that would leave her to hurt.

“They think,” she paused. He tried to take her fidgeting hands in his, but she pulled away and left him dumbfounded. Zelda didn’t like that expression at all on him, only making her more flustered in what to do.

“Who?” His tone was gentle, like calming a spooked horse.

Zelda breathed in a large breath, “This morning. Ivee and- and Pruce and… Nikki and Nack...”

She trailed off, searching the floor and Link for words.

“The townspeople?”

Tentatively, she nodded, not quite able to spit out what she needed to say.

Now, he was fully confused. “What do they think? Zelda, I promise you they don’t judge you for what had happened.”

The Calamity. Of course he would be thinking she was worried about that with how aloof her mannerisms suddenly were. Assuming he guessed right, his small frown upticked to sympathy.

“They’d never pin that on you. If anything, they warmed up to you more than they did to me.”

He began to tell her about the odd stares he got when he began reconstruction of the house. All the stories that would typically make her laugh, but all she could do with stare at their feet.

“They think we’re married!”

The words that flew from her were unequivocally hers yet her ears could hardly believe it. Link’s lips fell into a small “o” as he took a step back. Shock barely registered on his features, and it made her regret saying anything at all. She hated the way his eyes left hers.

Unsure of what to do, she watched him pace to the opposite wall and back. Never did he meet her gaze in turn for the rafters above. A hand brushed through his damp hair.

He swallowed the remnants of his tales, more softer with a certain disbelief, “Married, huh?”

Her quiet response affirmed him.

If this had been any other situation, she would have poked fun at the way he was behaving. Nothing about him exuded the certain confidence he so often employed in front of her. Lucky was a word she would have used if she managed to confound him like this.

“Ivee was the first to mention it in passing,” Zelda placated. “I thought it was a simple misunderstanding until Pruce then Nikki then Amira until…”

“Until it wasn’t so simple,” he finished for her. She smoothed a piece of hair behind her ear with a nod.

They fell back into a quietness. Some of Link’s shock gave way for, what she assumed, a reluctant acceptance.

The risotto was growing cold and neither had the stomach to point it out.

Zelda wasn’t ignorant about her feelings. However, she knew she was a coward. Before the Calamity, she had an understanding of why his name suddenly filled up the pages of her diary. Back then, Link had a silent charm to him that let her be herself for a short moment. It enraptured her. But she also had an excuse to never admit it.

Now, she had nothing to hide behind. No Calamity Ganon was going to drag her away from the man who was obviously embarrassed to be seen as her husband.

“Married?” he asked again, as if she hadn’t confirmed it for the umpteenth time. He was leaning against the table with his hand rubbing his neck.

“Yes, Link,” she was growing frustrated. “They think we’re… you know.”

Then, he looked up. “Is that a bad thing?”

Link’s eyes swept the room at her startled reaction. “Well,” he said with a raised brow and a small shake of his head. “If you’re completely against it then I am too, but-”

Then, to her absolute surprise, he shrugged. “It’s not horrible.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” there was defensiveness in his voice, “that other people assuming I’m married isn’t the worst rumor in the world.”

Now Zelda was thoroughly convinced he had stumbled upon a pub on his way home. “You do realize that it would mean I would be your wife.”

His shrug was more grandiose this time. “And I would be your husband.”

By then, the room was much dimmer. The fire lacked wood and Zelda hadn’t had time to think about lighting candles. She could make out his features, but could hardly read them.

“So, you’re not mad?”

Link wasn’t leaning on the table anymore. The action made her feel closer to him.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Not at me. The rumor.”

There was hesitation in his movements, but he crossed the little amount of space between them. “Honestly? It makes sense why more people haven’t outwardly hit on you.”

That comment made her let out a short laugh.

“But no,” he said; she could hear his smile. “I’m not mad… not at all.”

Link’s approach was slower than usual, but she opened up to his enticing pulls that evolved into a gentle embrace.

There were many doubts Zelda harbored. Most old, some new. To her, they were indistinguishable. Yet, all were forgotten, if only for a little while when he held her close in his arms.

When she bunched the cloth of his shirt in her hands, she felt him shiver.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” Zelda muttered.

All he did was hold her closer.

#i LOVED writing this #i actually wanted to write more but you know theres always a point where too much of something spoils the rest #loz #zelink #loz fanfiction #zelink fanfiction #ashleyswrittenwords #zelda #link #legend of zelda: breath of the wild

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