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The glare of the sun overhead is strong, but Zelda is certain that the glare she’s currently directing at him is fiercer.
How dare he?
She’d come to the Gerudo Desert to escape his constant presence, not to be dogged by him as she has been for months and months now.
To make things worse, Urbosa aided and abetted him in this! To think that Zelda considered Urbosa to be on her side when it came to her appointed knight. But no! For shame! Urbosa betrayed her yesterday: as rude an awakening as Urbosa’s fury was, it was a great deal worse to come to the understanding that Link’s presence last night on the Divine Beast was Urbosa’s own doing. The Gerudo Chief herself sent word to him. She instructed him to come and collect Zelda after she successfully evaded him for two full days.
And then this morning, Urbosa pulled Zelda aside. She leveled Zelda with a meaningful stare. Her words still ring in Zelda’s mind, “You should know, Little Bird, that I put in a good word for you with your appointed knight. Give him a chance. You never know: he may very well prove to be a good friend.” Zelda scoffed. She proceeded to ignore Urbosa for the rest of the morning until she and Link departed from Vah Naboris.
Today he insists on leading the way out of the desert, citing a heightened Yiga presence as his reasoning. But Zelda suspects another motive: perhaps he’s finally frustrated with her. Perhaps he no longer wishes to trail her, to have his gaze settle upon her as he follows in her footsteps. Good. Let him feel that way. She’s told him countless times that she does not need him to act as her escort. If he’s finally beginning to understand this, then all the better!
While walking behind him, Zelda does not study the broadness of his shoulders nor the pleasing taper from those shoulders down to his waist. Zelda does not think about how the tunic, the one she crafted with her own two hands, fits him so well. While it’s true that the Royal Blue suits him and that the cut of the tunic accentuates his form in a way that she knows many others seem to find pleasing, she herself does not find it so. Zelda of Hyrule is not so easily taken in by such things.
No. Zelda doesn’t spare a thought for them. She’s pleased with her own fortitude as she resolutely keeps the ire of her gaze focused on the back of his head.
She will concede that there is some distraction in the way that the hot desert winds pull at his hair, in how the sun causes his sandy locks to shine.
But thankfully it’s easy to shake such idle observations when he’s just so utterly frustrating. He wasn’t supposed to be here! He wasn’t supposed to know she was with Urbosa. And yet, here he is.
Zelda hopes that he can feel her glare, fixated as it is on the back of his head. Zelda hopes he can feel her anger and how it’s roiling just under the surface. Zelda hopes-
Link stops abruptly and turns to face her. Zelda, steeped in her own anger, realizing this far too late, barrels straight into him. She lets out an inelegant squeak as she collides with his chest.
The shifting sands of the desert are unkind in circumstances that require balance, and this would certainly be one of them. Link alone, as frustratingly perfect as he is, may have been able to remain standing on his own two feet. But Zelda, ever the unfortunate one out of the two, completely loses all semblance of balance. Her cursed forward momentum works against them both and with that, the two of them topple over, falling in the sand in a tangle of limbs.
There’s the inevitable jolt as Link’s back connects with the ground, and he lets out an “Oof.” Zelda ends up feeling little to no physical discomfort for he has managed to break her fall.
For a moment, neither of them can seem to move. Zelda’s heartbeat is loud in her ears as she stares at a world suddenly turned on its side. With how her cheek is squished against Link’s chest, she can both feel and hear his breathing.
And that’s not all: Zelda can feel the heat of him through his tunic. By Din’s fire... he’s so warm. Far too warm for the desert. It’s uncomfortable, and yet she finds herself frozen where she is. It doesn’t help matters that he has an arm wrapped loosely around her, his palm pressed against the small of her back. She’s feeling altogether too warm, as though she’s on the verge of overheating.
Link sucks in a sharp breath and shifts underneath her, and that’s when she realizes something: her leg is wedged firmly between his. And his own thigh is pressed between hers.
Zelda’s eyes shoot wide. Her hands scramble to find purchase on the ground and she attempts to push herself up and off of him. But once more, the accursed sand is unforgiving as it shifts beneath her palms and she slips forward and falls back down, cheek pressed once more to his chest.
It’s now that Zelda realizes that not only is he far too warm, but he’s also… Well, he’s sweaty. This is bothersome in a number of ways, but none more so than the fact that she can smell him. And that itself leads to an even more bothersome realization: she finds that his scent is not unpleasant. A traitorous part of her mind even suggests that it’s rather nice. Augh. Of course, even when he’s dirty and sweaty, the Goddess’ Chosen Hero still manages to smell good. Curse him...
But all thoughts in this regard are banished when she feels a quaking in his chest. She raises her head off of him once more, her gaze snapping up to his face to find that...he’s laughing. Goddesses, Link is actually laughing.
In other circumstances this would be fascinating, for she’s never seen Link laugh before. But any wonder is immediately dampened, for she’s certain he’s laughing at her.
The intensity of the glare she levels at him causes his soft laughter to subside. There still seems to be some amusement in his eyes when he says, “Here, allow me to help you up, Princess.”
Zelda’s ready to be rid of him, so she gives him a curt nod. He braces his hands against her upper arms and lifts just a bit and in doing so he provides her with just the sort of leverage she needs to finally free herself of both him and the desert sands.
If she scrambles off and away from him a little too quickly, he seems to have the grace to not laugh once more, thank the golden three.
Settling on the ground a safe distance from him, Zelda finally takes stock of her person. Even though her pride is a bit bruised, she appears to be uninjured. Her leggings are sandy where her legs pressed into the ground. She goes to work wiping the sand away.
Link sits up with huff. He rests his elbows on his knees as his gaze rakes over the desert. He takes in a deep breath and then lets out a sigh.
Zelda eyes him curiously. How he’s sitting right now is entirely at odds with the stiff and prim postures she’s accustomed to seeing from him. In this moment he suddenly seems to be less the silent, proper, and reserved boy she’s known for the better part of three years. At this moment he’s a bit disheveled: some of his hair is matted against his forehead, no doubt from sweat on his brow. Yet more of his hair is sticking out at odd angles, likely from how he fell down into the sand.
It’s all so strange and noteworthy that she realizes far too late that she’s staring at him. And he, seeming to sense the weight of her gaze, turns and catches her in the act. When their eyes meet, she is quick to look away, quick to make a show of redoubling her efforts to remove the sand from her person.
A few moments later, Zelda chances a furtive glance at him to see that he’s taken out his waterskin. She watches, oddly transfixed as he throws his head back and drinks out of it. She studies the long line of his neck, studies how his throat bobs as he swallows.
Suddenly, an odd flush comes over her face. And in watching him drink...she’s made keenly aware of her own thirst...
Link lowers the waterskin, his gaze focused out on the dunes, and he takes in a deep breath. That’s when he glances at her and, curses, for the second time today, he’s caught her staring.
But this time Zelda doesn’t have a chance to look away for he holds the waterskin out to her. He clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything. Yet his intentions are clear, for he’s offering her his water to drink.
A beat passes as she stares at the proffered item, and then her eyes travel up the length of his arm to scrutinize his face. While she is used to the weight of Link’s gaze, this is something different. There’s an openness in his eyes…And dare she say that there is something there akin to curiosity?
Zelda realizes she’s left him waiting for an answer when his eyebrows raise in question. She flushes anew. Ah, right, he’s offered the waterskin.
In truth, she’s parched. For a split second, she considers taking him up on the offer. But... goodness, no! To share a drinking vessel of any kind with anyone would be unrefined at best and unsanitary at worst.
A small voice offers up another thought along these lines: if she were to take it, Zelda would be putting her mouth where Link’s has been.
For reasons she cannot explain, Zelda feels her face redden yet again. She’s not precisely sure what the source of her reaction is. Perhaps it’s embarrassment, indignation, anger...?
Whatever this feeling is, it’s frustrating and so her answer to his offer comes out swift and final. “No. The chilly elixir is still serving me quite well. I have no need of your water.”
Link’s eyes widen slightly. “Chilly elixirs combat the heat, but do nothing for thirst.”
There’s a pause as Zelda attempts to read into his tone. It’s baffling, as the timbre of his voice is less formal than what she’s used to hearing from him. But the difference becomes clearer when she observes amusement dancing in his eyes. Or, at least, that’s what it seems to be. But Zelda wouldn’t know, for Link’s never been playful like this around her before.
“Yes, well--” The irony is not lost on Zelda when she must pause to swallow due to the dryness of her throat. “We shall pass through the bazaar soon enough and I assure you that I will properly hydrate once we’re there.”
Link’s stare remains fixated on her for another few seconds before he nods. She watches as he proceeds to put the waterskin away and then stand. She watches as he walks a couple of steps toward her and holds out his hand.
Ah. He means to help her stand. Curiouser and curiouser. Her brows knit in confusion, but she takes hand, regardless.
Once Zelda’s on her own two feet, he takes a couple steps back. She watches, transfixed once more as he raises his hand to pinch at the front of his tunic. He pulls the fabric in and out and mutters, “Hylia preserve me, I was not made for this heat.”
Well. She would have to agree. He was rather hot to the touch moments ago. For once, she’s at a loss for words and so she settles on an awkward laugh.
Whatever Link’s laughter and teasing and complaining of these last few moments add up to mean, it is all so at odds with what Zelda’s accustomed to. She has no idea what to make of him right now.
Link’s expression is suddenly serious as he scans the desert, turning on the spot. Ah, his constant seriousness is certainly familiar. In the same moment, she can see how there’s sand all down his back, on his tunic, his trousers…
And before Zelda is able to think through what she’s doing, her two feet propel her forward, her hand reaches out and then she’s brushing at the sand on his shoulder. Link startles, twisting slightly to look at her, his eyes wide.
What has possessed her to do this, to touch him in this manner? Perhaps she’s not thinking clearly? Perhaps her need for water is more desperate than she realized?
Link is still looking at her over his shoulder as she continues to wipe away at the sand, briskly working her way down his back. His expression is open and, dare she say, surprised.
Zelda frowns. “Come now, you look ridiculous. You’re positively covered in sand and your hair’s a right mess. I simply cannot have my appointed knight present himself in Kara Kara Bazaar in such a state.”
Her words actually cause his cheeks to redden, another notable, yet not entirely novel reaction. She has seen him embarrassed before, like that one time when he was thoroughly dressed down by her father for getting into a scuffle with Revali. Or all those times where he’s been fawned over by the ladies of the court.
Link allows her to keep swiping the sand clinging to his person, but eventually she gets low enough down his back to realize she really ought to stop.
Withdrawing her hand and stepping back, Zelda crosses her arms and pointedly fixes her gaze on the tops of palm trees of the oasis, just barely visible over the horizon. “You’ve sand all over your posterior and your legs. I trust that you can see to that yourself.”
A quiet huff is all that she hears by way of a response. Perhaps it’s meant to be a laugh, but she wouldn’t know, for she resolutely refuses to look at him.
Instead, Zelda takes to pacing, being sure to keep him out of her line of sight as she does so.
Finally, Link clears his throat. “Does Her Highness find me to be presentable now?”
Zelda stops her pacing and shoots him a look out of the corner of her eye. Link turns about on the spot, offering her an inspection of him from all sides. Hmm. Yes, he appears to be far more presentable than he was moments ago. Her eye catches a spot on his rear still covered in sand, but she takes a deep breath and decides it’s best to not comment on it.
But his hair, now that is still a problem. His fringe remains plastered to his forehead and that simply will not do. Once more, her traitorous feet move on their own accord. Her hand reaches out, and Zelda brushes at the offending hair. Link, for his part, simply stands still, his eyes flick up to watch as her fingers deftly work to separate the hair from his forehead.
It’s rather pointless, really. She finds his hair, which is sleek and soft, is wet and therefore refuses to cooperate. This is distasteful on a number of levels, and therefore she withdraws her hand. She makes no attempt to hide how she scowls as she wipes his sweat away on her leggings.
“Sorry,” he murmurs in an uncharacteristic show of what Zelda might call embarrassment. He turns away to brush a hand roughly through his fringe.
“It’s… it’s fine,” she lies. It’s not fine. He looks terrible, and normally she’d relish in him being less than perfect, but for reasons she cannot explain, today she doesn’t have the will for it. Today has been, so say the least, strange.
“Your Highness, we really ought to keep moving,” Link says softly as he lowers his hand. His eyes track over the dunes once more as he says this.
Zelda draws in a deep breath and stands tall, raises her chin a bit. “Very well.”
Link holds her gaze as he nods. And then he turns on his heel and continues toward the oasis.
The oddness of the day continues to plague her. Zelda stands frozen, watching his retreating form and finds that her eyes are once more drawn to that line that goes pleasingly from his shoulder down to his waist. Goodness. This makes no sense. She shakes her head and then jogs a few steps to catch up with him.
Within a couple of minutes, the palm trees that grow around Kara Kara Bazaar come into full view. Thank the Goddess... the oasis is a refuge, a place of respite. Here she’ll be able to finally quench her thirst. Here she’ll be able to ease her running mind by conversing with literally anyone else besides him.
This is when a single word bubbles up in her mind. It’s a word that could spell a different kind of relief for her: escape. Among the hustle and bustle of the Bazaar, perhaps she can slip away? While he’s been uncharacteristically amicable today, perhaps what she really needs is to distance herself from him?
And it’s notable that of late, she’s become rather adept at outsmarting him.
A plan formulates before she can really stop it. She needs hydration and she will find it at the oasis. Yes, yes! She’ll make a big fuss over how the water must be chilled. She’ll demand that she must go into the Inn to find it. Once inside, she’ll slip out another entrance. Then she’ll be rid of him and his distracting presence once more! This next bit will be a stretch, but if she can beat him to the Gerudo Canyon Stable, then she’ll be able to prolong their separation.
Another thought rises in her mind and to her consternation, it’s in Urbosa’s voice: Little Bird, you know how dangerous the Gerudo Desert can be! Is this plan not foolish?
No, not in the least! Or, well...hrmm. Zelda frowns. She will concede that perhaps there is some foolishness in this plan, but she’s so, so close to the stable that she ought to be able to pull it off!
Besides... the quickness of her heartbeat, the heat of her cheeks offer all the more reason to escape.
It’s settled then. She must be rid of him, for there is simply no other option at this juncture.
Zelda sets her gaze once more on the back of his head. As her plan to escape him continues to solidify in her mind, she cannot help the wicked smile that grows at the thrill of it.
Link, ever a bastion of calm waters, continues to walk toward the Kara Kara Bazaar. This Hero, this one who’s blessed by the Goddess, remains oblivious. Once more, he’s none the wiser to her scheming, and she relishes in this.
Onward then, to the oasis, for Zelda is thirsty and she will not be denied her cunning escape.