Chapter Text
“Father would sooner have me locked in my study than continue my research on the Guardians.” Zelda paces her bedroom, mostly talking to herself, but appreciative of someone who will listen. She’s learned not to expect much as far as input goes from Link, as he has enough on his mind right now. She collapses onto the bed in a huff. “When must I go?”
Link clears his throat and replies, “Half eight.”
“Lovely.”
Link stands at the door to her room with his hands neatly clasped behind his hips. The only thing he can think about is his duty to Zelda, and what exactly that entails. As the only knight, yet alone man, allowed in Zelda’s boudoir, he’s acutely aware of every one of his actions, making sure to never step out of line. He often reminds himself that his job is to be her protector, not mentor, nor guide, nor partner. Though they’ve gotten to know each other better, each of their interactions is weighed down by the responsibilities they carry. With the imminent threat of Calamity Ganon, there’s no time for distractions.
“I understand I went against his wishes, of course, but Goddesses… am I truly expected to bend to his every will?” She rolls out of bed and walks to the wardrobe, considering herself in the full-length mirror, talking to her reflection. “Am I expected to accompany every strange foreigner who passes through town to dinner?” She pauses, fussing with her hair. “I can only hope there is enough wine to make it bearable.”
Link chuckles, shaking his head. Zelda glances at him and smiles at her success.
“Either way,” she says, turning to her wardrobe. “I suppose it isn’t a bad excuse to dress up.”
She considers the dresses, letting the different fabrics slide over her skin. Link tries to resist a smile as he watches her hold up dress after dress, inexplicably frustrated with the irrelevant choice. He notices how different she is when she isn’t under the oppressive eye of the King, and he feels grateful to see this side of her.
Zelda picks a navy, princess-line dress, largely for the way it fits across her chest and around her shoulders, adorned with white silk roses down to her sternum. She slips it over her underdress, fixing it just right around her waist. “Would you mind, um…” He walks over to her, watching as she takes all of her golden hair in her hands and pulls it to the side, turning to him over her shoulder. “Have you, perhaps, ever tied a corset?”
He remembers being a child and watching his mother tie up her own, and, feeling confident enough in his memory, he takes the ribbons on the back of Zelda’s dress and starts to gently tug them together, loosening and tightening the slack until it’s properly tied at the base of her spine, hugging the curve of her waist.
“Thank you, Link. What would I do without you?”
He can feel his breath catch in his throat, and any response escapes him. She turns back to her vanity, picking out pins to use in her hair. Sensing he’s no longer needed, he goes to the door.
“Wait for me, will you?” She calls, never taking her attention away from her reflection in the mirror.
“Of course, Princess.” He bows once more before stepping outside.
“To Princess Zelda.” King Rhoam raises a glass of red wine, as does the rest of the dinner party. “May she fulfill her destiny and bring peace to Hyrule.” The guests clink their glasses and drink heartily, resuming their lively conversations. Zelda proceeds to do the same, which earns her a questioning look from her father. She ignores this, turning to her supposed date for the evening.
“So, Erig, you’re a trader, yes? How exciting must that be! Have you traveled all over Hyrule?”
“Oh, certainly! From the peak of Mount Lanayru to the furthest reaches of Eldin. Why, I just got back from the Faron Wetlands yesterday.” He rambles on, speaking with such a thick accent it's nearly impossible for Zelda to understand, but she listens intently, as she was taught to do. “No matter where I go, there is always something surprising.”
Link stands in the corner of the room; diagonal from Zelda, but still in her line of sight. She looks absolutely beautiful in the dress she picked out. Her hair is pinned up in loops of gold and Link almost has to stop himself from swooning. She catches his eye and gives him a look that he can’t quite discern before turning back to Erig.
“Have you ever been to the Gerudo region? We, well, I recently visited to work on the divine beast, Vah Naboris. I think it’s such a marvelous place, and the Gerudo people are ever so kind. And, of course, I always enjoy my visits with Chief Urbosa.”
“Ah, yes, in Gerudo Town!” Erig turns to the table of noblemen and women. “Though they won’t let just anyone in I hear. Believe me, I’ve tried!” There’s a hearty laugh from the Goron on the opposite end of the table before he gets an elbow to the ribs.
Zelda takes another bite of her meal before turning back to him. “Mm, you must tell me about your time in Faron. I’ve heard it’s just gorgeous.”
“Truly! The ruins there - I’m not sure if you’ve heard of the Zonai, the civilization from long ago? The ruins - well, you must see them for yourself, but I’ll tell you this. I’ve never seen anything that took the breath right out of me like those statues!”
Zelda nods, anticipating the end of his sentence. “May I ask, did you happen upon any ancient Sheikah technology on your journey?”
“Now, Zelda,” the King says under his breath.
“That’s very interesting you happen to bring that up, because I was only recently talking with someone about a relic found in the Gerudo Highlands, some kind of platform built into the ground -”
“Oh, fascinating! Do you know where exactly? I’ve seen a couple of those before. I have several theories on what their use could be, and how they’re actually connected to -”
“That’s quite enough,” the King scolds, garnering the attention of everyone at the table. It is all but silent. Link looks to Zelda, who neglects his gaze, her lips in a tight line. “I must apologize, Erig. We must have much more important issues to discuss.” He looks to Zelda, expectant.
She swallows, then turns to Erig. “Yes. I hope you can accept my apology.” Her face burns with humiliation. King Rhoam then turns to Erig, engaging him about some trade deal in the West.
Zelda takes a few deep breaths before excusing herself from the table. “It was a pleasure,” she whispers, before turning on her heel and making a quick exit from the dining room.
The dinner guests go back to chatting, seemingly unperturbed. Link looks to the King for instruction, but he’s deep in conversation with the trader, so he defaults to following the Princess, about six or seven steps behind.
When they get to the double doors outside her bedroom, Zelda stops and turns to Link. “That was rather abrupt, wouldn’t you say?” She smiles. He can’t tell what she wants him to say. Luckily, she doesn’t give him the chance.
“Link, I don’t want to be a bother, but would you mind helping me take this thing off?” She gestures to her gown, tugging slightly at it.
She doesn’t wait for an answer as she goes into her room, now dark with night. He hears her kick off her shoes and fall onto the bed. She yawns, groaning. “Link?”
He idles in the doorway, trying to fight the butterflies in his stomach. “Yeah?”
“Are you coming?”
He checks down the hallways. No one’s around to give him a random order or rope him into a menial task. Taking a breath, he steps into the room, securing the doors behind him. He spots the matches on the side table.
“Can I ask you a question?” She sits up, her hair falling out. “Did you like that man, Erig?” Link can’t help but chuckle as he walks from one oil lamp to the next, slowly enveloping the room in a warm glow. “Come on, you can tell me the truth.”
Link hesitates before answering. Does she really care what he thinks? Does she want his approval? Or maybe she’s trying to get a rise out of him, which she’s known to try to do. He could tell her how he really feels, how there’s no one he could ever imagine her with besides, well… but that wasn’t the question.
After a long moment of deliberation, he says, “He seems nice.”
Zelda mutters something indistinguishable, her hands twisted up in her hair, picking at the pins until the golden loops fall, twisting around her face as they relax on her shoulders. She shakes her hair out, but it’s tangled and will need a good brushing at some point. For now, she rises, walking over to the window where the moonlight pours in. “Can I ask you another question?”
He watches her reflection as she studies the night. Has Erig’s presence affected her that much? Does she… perhaps genuinely fancy him? Lost in thought, Link eventually assumes Zelda will carry on without affirmation, and he’s right.
She sighs, then says over her shoulder, “Do you think I am wasting my time? Just as my father says?”
Oh. “No.” He walks over to her. He can’t see her face, but he can sense she has high expectations for what he’s about to say. “You are the Princess of Hyrule.” Clearly. He takes a minute to collect his thoughts, untying her corset and pulling on the strings, loosening it enough so she can take it off.
“I’ve always known who you were. But…” He looks at his hands. Rough and calloused from sword training, climbing up mountains and manipulating the leather train of a horse. How did he get here? How was he the one the legendary sword chose? “I don’t think I really knew you, before.”
“And now?” She asks, her voice softer as she slips out of the dress and sets it on a nearby chair. She turns to him and smiles, her soft white slip making her glow in the moonlight that pours in from the window.
“Now.” He avoids her gaze, his heart beating in his throat. “Now… I like to think I know you, at least a little better.” She squints at him, a smile threatening her lips. Taking care with every word, he continues. “You are compassionate. You’re so smart. You… I admire” - he shakes his head and swallows - “your resilience. I - I’m honored to be… your… your knight.”
“Can I ask you another question?” She whispers now, waiting no time for a response. “Do you ever… think about me? In a different kind of way? Because…” She pauses and looks in his eyes. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier today…”
Link’s stomach drops and he walks over to the dresser with newfound purpose. “Sorry, I didn’t. I didn’t mean to - Sorry,” he stammers.
“Link…” She follows him. Her hand reaches to his shoulder and he turns around, undone by her touch.
“You’ve… had a lot to drink.”
“I haven’t.”
His breathing is heavy. “I’m sorry, Princess, I -”
She rests the palm of her hand on his cheek, holding his gaze. Slowly, she moves her face towards his, tilting to the right as their noses touch. Their breath on one another’s skin, Zelda lets out a small laugh, slipping her other hand around his neck.
He doesn’t dare move, his head dizzy with Zelda so close to him. The countless hours he’d spent imagining the soft touch of the Princess could never have prepared him for the real thing. She smells sweetly of vanilla and something else he can’t quite place.
Watching her eyes flutter closed, he does the same, and she leans her body into him, their lips finding each other, tentatively meeting. The softness of her lips makes his head swim. They fit perfectly together and he savors it, gently pressing into her. She responds in kind, her fingers getting caught up in his hair. He cradles her waist, holding her body close to his, feeling the warmth of the soul tied to his for all of eternity. If he was ever unsure of their connection, all his doubts are gone by the time he has to pull away to catch his breath. He can still feel the electricity from her touch.
They look at each other, sizing up the other through a new perspective. Zelda sees the longing look in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. As the stoic knight who follows six or seven steps behind, whose thoughts and feelings usually elude her, she never expected to feel so close to him.
Suddenly overwhelmed, Link jumps back. “I’m sorry Zelda - Princess - I - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…” He goes for the door.
“Link… don’t -”
He turns to her, his head in a fog. “I’m… I… My apologies.” He bows before quickly excusing himself, leaving the Princess to herself.