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“You be careful out there with those!” Pruce called as Link slipped outside. The shop keep leaned to the left to keep the scarred young man in view, ears pressed tight back against his head, “They’re dangerous! Fire spr-”
Ivee laughed as the door swung shut at the shop keep’s continued warnings, rolling her eyes at Link with a smirk as she cleared the entry of leaves with swift smacks of her broom against the cobblestone. He smiled back, a hand moving to scratch at the back of his neck before moving back down the path. He had plenty more to do to prepare for tomorrow. But before he made it more than a few steps onto Hateno Village’s main path a weight slammed into his legs and the unmistakable feel of skinny arms wrapped around his knee.
“Link!” Nebb squealed, “Link! Do you have it? Do you? Do you?”
Link looked thoughtfully up at the sky, scratching his chin as the overexcited child continued to bounce in place.
“Maybe…” Link feigned confusion and pulled out the slate, slowly flicking through it as Nebb’s shouts drew the attention of his mother, Nikki.
“Nebb! What have I told you about pestering Mr. Link!” She hurried over, hands fluttering. Link’s lips quirked into a smile, his vibrant eyes peeking up beneath his lashes in a devastatingly unwitting display of charm that froze her in her tracks.
“Is this it?” Link asked, turning his eyes away from Nikki as an ancient short sword materialized in his hand in a shower of brilliant blue. Nebb blindly reached back and wrapped a hand around his mother’s knee, a wordless wheeze of euphoria leaking from his mouth. To Nikki’s great relief, their heroic neighbor kept the sword extended above his head, flipping it over slowly. The light it emitted deepened the shadows under his eyes and turned his wheat colored hair as blue as the sky. The weapon’s subtle hum was unsettling, soft enough to be nearly unnoticeable if not for the way it made her teeth feel like they were rattling in her skull.
“Mom! Mom, did you see that?” Nebb said as Link pressed on his slate and the weapon disappeared into ribbons of light. Nebb’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he finally sacrificed the hand that had been pinning Link in place to transfer his grip to her, tugging her skirts.
“Did you thank Mr. Link?” She asked instead, laughing as Nebb launched into a string of gratitudes that brought Link’s signature gentle smile to his face. Suddenly, he paused, his ear flicking as if hearing something, his blue hoop earring swinging as seemed to nod to himself.
“If you’d like,” Link said, voice soft and rough as always, “I have some very special weapons I’d think you’d like.”
Nebb’s grip around her knee went painfully tight, “Mom, can we? Can we? Please?”
“Of course,” Nikki said, smiling with thanks as Nebb darted to wrap himself around Link’s leg. His rambling was lost as Link turned and led the way back to his house over the bridge, unencumbered by Nebb's extra weight atop his foot.
As expected, Bolson and Karson were lounging in the shade in front of the unlit cook pot in Link’s front yard, clearly enjoying the breeze on the quickly warming spring day. They smiled and waved in perfect unison as the trio approached.
“Mr. Karson! Mr. Bolson! Link’s going to show us his weapon collection! Come see!” Nebb cried, springing off Link’s leg to bounce at Bolson’s feet as he elegantly unfolded from the ground.
“Nebb!” Nikki scolded, exasperated, but Link waved off her reprimand.
“It’s only fair that you see what I’ve done with the place.” Link said. He gestured them all inside, holding the door.
Nikki wasn’t sure what she was expecting from Link’s home, but ‘cozy’ definitely wasn’t it. It was decorated simply with a vase of dried Silent Princesses on the empty table in the center of the main room and what looked like a single yellow bloom on the loft to their right. Cookware and dishes were stacked neatly on shelves to the right, near the open cooking space, which made sense from what she knew of his ability to periodically fill the village with unfairly delicious smells. The defining feature, somehow the only thing Nikki wasn't surprised by, was the wall of weapons.
Link left the door open behind them, letting in even more sunlight to glint off the gleaming metal and glossy wood of his collection. Nebb was beside himself, but his hands stayed respectfully at his sides as he rambled about how excited his grandfather was going to be.
The adults were silent behind him.
Link looked back to see that Nikki had covered her mouth with one hand, the other pressed over her heart. Karson and Bolson each had a hand on her shoulder, solemn awe mirrored on their faces.
“That is the Lightspear Trident,” Link said, moving to stand beside Nebb, “It once belonged to the pilot of Divine Beast Vah Ruta, Princess Mipha of the Zora. That's the Boulder Breaker. It belonged to Champion Daruk of the Goron, pilot of Vah Rudania.”
“It looks heavy,” Nebb said, almost whispering.
“It’s very heavy,” Link confirmed, “But Daruk was very, very big and very, very strong.”
“And that’s a Rito bow!” Nebb declared.
Link knew that the entire village knew who he really was. He hadn’t exactly tried to hide it, but he hadn’t advertised it either and they (even the gossiping women in the middle of town) seemed to take it to mean that it was a secret. Even when he’d limp through town, battered, bloodied and bruised, they’d fuss and fret but verbally, loudly , blame it on the local monsters and an invented curse of clumsiness. It’d be hilarious if their consideration wasn’t so heartfelt that it made his chest seize in the same way it did when he stumbled upon a memory.
“It belonged to the Rito Champion, pilot of Vah Medoh, Master Revali.” Link said.
Teba had bought him every arrow in Rito Village just the day before and presented him with a new Falcon Bow with the air of a father seeing his son off for war. The exchange made some deep part of his heart ache. He could remember a similar feeling in the lost corners of his memory. If he concentrated, he could just see the towering silhouette of a faceless knight in Teba’s shadow.
Bazz had seen him off the week prior with a similar expression, clasping his shoulder tight enough for Link to feel the edges of his claws as he pleaded for Link to be careful, come back soon.
“The Scimitar of the Seven and Daybreaker belonged to the pilot of Vah Naboris, Gerudo Chief Urbosa.” Link finished.
“How did you get them? Did you know ‘em?” Nebb asked, eyes locked on the way the decorative chain twisted in the breeze on Mipha’s trident. There was a sharp inhale from the adults behind them, but Link didn’t look back as he set a hand a top Nebb’s head.
“Yeah. We… We were friends. They were given as gifts.”
“Wait. That means...” Nebb gasped and squinted up at Link, ears pinned back against his head with the force of his expression, “That means you’re old !”
“Nebb!” Nikki cried, flushed, but the ferocity of Nebb’s accusation broke the tension in the room as Bolson and Karson threw their heads back, shrieking with laughter.
Link’s own rough bark joined them moments later, “Yeah, I guess I am!”
The next morning, Link opened the door to his cottage to a perfect, cloudless sky. It was early enough for dew to dampen his boots as he locked the door behind him for the first time before slipping the key, wrapped in its note, securely into his sock.
Just in case.
The large stall beside the house was empty; Pumpkin was at Highland Stable (just in case), so he quietly made his way on foot over the bridge. The air was as sweet and clean as always, perfectly chilly as summer swiftly swept spring away and he took his time, just for a moment, to savor it.
“Beautiful morning.” Bolson called and Link found himself smiling up at him as he rounded the corner from the modular model homes and spotted his flamboyant friend waiting for him. He handed a steaming mug of tea to Link, his own curled against his chest. Morning tea was a ritual they’d performed before, although usually done sitting under the shade of the tree in front of the cottage. Link toasted mug in thanks. The first sip went down like nostalgia.
The scent of silent princesses tugged his mind back, far gentler than the first time, but still just on the edge on painful. The memory, like most of his memories, was mostly flashes; Zelda’s ink-stained fingernails tapping against the lip of a delicate tea cup, the rough stone of the castle catching his hair and scratching against his ear, bundles of dried flowers hung upside down in Zelda’s study.
“Silent princess? Feeling indulgent?” Link said, raising an eyebrow. The flowers were more widespread now, but rare enough that the tea was expensive- reserved for special occasions.
Bolson, never one to humor fools, lifted an eyebrow in reply.
Link knew he was looking at the diamond circlet on his forehead and the Master Sword gleaming over his shoulder. He knew Bolson didn’t have to recognize the ancient armor glowing dimly in the rising sun to know he was prepared for war.
“One never needs an excuse to celebrate life.” Bolson replied. They shared another few minutes of companionable silence watching the sun bathe the town’s windows in gold. Link lingered even as his mug cooled in his hand, hoping to etch the moment into his memory. But soon he heard the sound of Karson beginning to stir through the open window of the home behind him.
It was time to go.
Zelda had waited long enough.
“Thank you, Bolson.” Link smiled. There wasn’t enough time and Link didn’t have the words to thank the man for everything he’d done but the look on Bolson’s face as he took his mug said he understood. Bolson inhaled shakily, set the mugs on the ground and reached out with both hands to grip Link’s shoulders.
They both ignored the shine in his eyes.
“Link,” Bolson’s voice rose to his normal, grandiose pitch, thick but strong, “Have a fabulous day.”
Later, much later, as Link pressed his sweaty, bloody forehead to Zelda’s in the center of scorched Hyrule Field, laughing his throat raw with her in delirious delight, he could still taste the silent princess on his breath.