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Link hated how his reputation was leveraged against the Princess. He hated how his name was twisted into a blade raised against the one person he was sworn to protect at all costs. She had every right to be angry, to rage against the insults spat upon her by an ungrateful court. She didn’t deserve to be treated the way she had been, least of all by her own father.
He welcomed the bursts of outrage, the sneers and snide remarks made against him when they were out of the castle’s shadow. Link, of all people, knew how crucial it was to have an outlet for the tide of emotions she choked back when the court was watching. Her wrath was much easier to withstand than the quiet sobs that he heard much too often as he watched over her room at night. There was life in her rage. Power in her voice when she shouted her displeasure. A far cry from the defeated, weary gasps for breath that tore at his heart in the dark of night, anger gave the Princess strength. He was grateful for the force of Zelda’s fury driving her forward, even if it was away from him.
So he was calm in the face of her frustrations, and his patience was rewarded a few months after he was assigned as her guard. She still didn’t hold him in high regard, but she had grown accustomed to his presence. Thus, he was thoroughly ignored while she went about her studies of Hyrule’s plant life. He couldn’t help but notice how different she looked out in the wild. It was difficult to notice when he just started as her guard, but the more time he spent with her, the more relaxed she became.
That’s when he began to notice it. It was faint, and invisible in the direct sunlight, but when it was overcast or they walked under the shade of a tree Link could see this glow about the Princess. He could only catch glimpses of it at first, only when the stars aligned and she was content. These sightings were so few and far between that for a long time Link was convinced that they were mere tricks of the light. This phenomenon seemed to accompany a discovery of some sort, be it the perfect sample or a breakthrough in her research. This very observation led Link to cast aside the fanciful notion of a sparkling princess in favor of a much more reasonable explanation. Her expression brightened, nothing more. These moments stuck out to him for their rarity, nothing fantastical about it.
Looking back, it put into stark clarity how much pressure she was truly under.
Things changed after that day in the desert, though he wasn’t sure why. He could understand how an attempt on her life might shake her up a little, but to have her demeanor change completely worried him. Perhaps the incident cut deeper than he’d originally thought. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to regret the difference, because she began to smile more. She had a spring in her step, and her hackles no longer raised at his presence. This newfound ease fostered a friendship between them.
Any doubts Link had about those little flickers of light, they were banished in short order. Freed of the suffocating disdain for the one person she couldn’t shake, the glow surrounding Zelda’s happiness became undeniable. He could see it filtering through the trees in the rare moment of separation when she walked ahead of him. Link brought a slice of fruitcake along one of their trips after a particularly harsh scolding, and she burned brighter than their campfire. People began to tell stories of a light spirit traveling the land, a beautiful young woman drifting through the woods and leaving sparks behind. The whispers insisted blessings awaited those lucky enough to glance at the shining maiden.
Link was inclined to agree.
Instead of being ignored, Link was sucked into hundreds of Zelda’s little inquiries while they walked the wilds together. Scientific endeavors were a bit out of his wheelhouse, but it didn’t matter. Zelda thrived simply by having someone to bounce ideas off of, turning to look at him with a glowing grin and a theory. Bit by bit, her smile began to chip away at his reservations, replacing his professionalism with a growing desire for her companionship.
Joy was a precious commodity in those years leading up to Calamity, tenuous and fragile and oh so precious. Indeed, any levity in those shadowed times was to be savored, but what Link coveted above all was Zelda’s delight. The Princess of Hyrule deserved every speck of happiness she could get her hands on, King and court be damned. It was hard won, but worth every effort to see her grin. Link pursued Zelda’s smile with the same relentless dedication that made him the youngest knight in Hyrule’s history, and he swore to do anything in his power to make her happy. Anything to see those rays shine around her.
It wasn’t long until Link’s rising affection began to overwhelm him. He began to crave Zelda’s light, spending days gazing at her. He told himself that it was only natural, because he was her guard and he was sworn to protect her. It had nothing to do with the flutter in his chest, that strange flavor of anxiety that drew his eyes to her like a magnet. A byproduct of almost losing her to the Yiga, surely.
Link was mesmerized, he would go out of his way to make her smile. Not because of romantic interest, of course not, but because he wanted to name the elation that rose whenever he saw her in the light. He wanted to soak up as much of her luster as he could. One flicker of her sweet, gentle luminescence set him adrift in a sea of contentment and affection. It was intoxicating. He’d bring her flowers, only because she was looking for specimens, and various odds and ends nicked from the Ancient Tech Lab, all to nurture the small bursts of incandescent glee that sent his heart pounding against his ribs.
They were sitting among the flowers when he succumbed at long last. She was trying to convince him to eat a frog. He wasn’t keen on the idea, but the pleading look of anticipation on her face was enough to make him consider it even as he recoiled in disgust. She leaned too far, however, and she tipped over, tumbling over without her arms to steady her. Link couldn’t remember the details, all he knew is that when they were still once more Link’s hands curled around her hips and her hands pressed into his chest, that wretched amphibian sitting primly between her wrists. They were frozen a moment, caught somewhere between confusion and embarrassment, before Zelda let out a stream of giggles that struck him down.
She had a smile like the sun, but when she laughed she was radiant.
He watched her shine above him and realized that this is what it felt like to be in love. He understood, now, why she always seemed to brighten his day, how she sent his blood running hot to the tips of his fingers and toes. He loved her because who wouldn’t? Who could look upon this young woman so full of fire and compassion and not be awestruck? Who could hear her voice, an elegant stream of thought and wisdom, and not be weak ? All the stars were in Zelda’s eyes and she still shone brighter.
Of course he loved her. It was only natural.
To bask in the warmth of her presence was a privilege he thanked all the gods for.
The light shining from Hyrule Castle cuts through any lethargy left over from the Shrine, replaced by a searing, deep yearning to see more of it. When night fell and she was silent, Link found himself wandering around, looking for any substitute convincing enough to trick his mind into ease enough to sleep. At first he slept surrounded by fireflies, but there were precious few places that were safe to sleep. Later he would keep a candle burning when he was in his house, and when he wasn’t he’d settle for clutching a star fragment to his chest. It could lull him into a fitful sleep, but it couldn’t banish the nauseating restlessness writhing in his stomach and constricting his heart.
It wasn’t enough, he wanted to bathe in that light, and if that meant wading through darkness then so be it. This sentiment drove him to complete all manner of miscellaneous, almost random tasks. It doesn’t take long for a pattern to emerge, however, after he learns more about the princess, either through stories or his memories.
He learned that she’s most likely to shine when he wears his Champion tunic, so he rarely takes it off. He kept the ingredients for fruitcake on hand at all times, and has hundreds of wildberries tucked away. She liked to see Link swing the Master Sword, or watch him wield weapons Robbie crafts for him, so he does at every opportunity. Then, when Link was stronger, he began to hunt guardians down for their parts. She liked watching him clear Hyrule Field, perhaps it built her confidence in him. It didn’t matter why it made her happy, all he cared to know was whenever he’d dispatch a particularly troublesome guardian he could see her light reach out to him from the Castle Sanctum to wash away his exhaustion.
He liked doing these little things for her. It gave him a sense of normalcy that anchored him as he stumbled about Hyrule in search of who he was, and he couldn’t help but feel a deep, vindictive sense of satisfaction whenever he watched her light pierce the darkness swirling about the castle. Each glimmer from high in Hyrule Castle renewed his determination, sending him running towards the power he needed to slay the beast.
Link thinks she loves him, but he’s not sure. Or perhaps it seems too good to be true, and his doubts shield his heart from disappointment that would prove too much after the journey's end. He really hopes she loves him, because he cherishes every gleaming inch of her being.
He notices what he thinks is affection in her eyes when Zelda smiles at him. He notices the little rays of light, precious and small during the first few days when she was tired and grief stricken, but there all the same. Then he set about cheering her up. Link was always a man of few words, so whenever he saw her dim and space out he would bring her back to earth with bits of fruit and give her the trinkets he’d gathered. Countless little gestures that made her glimmer against the desolation.
It’s arrogant, but he thinks she shines brighter when she looks at him. The thought makes him grin for hours, which makes her smile in turn. They fed off of each other’s fragile glee. His touch sends sparks leaping off of her skin and sometimes he grabs her hand just to see her shine a bit brighter. One night, he holds a Silent Princess from Satori Mountain out to her, and rather than take it she takes his tunic in her hands and pulls him close. She kisses him, and he has to shut his eyes against the blinding light that radiated out when he wraps his arms around her.
There was not a single word in any of Hyrule’s languages that could properly describe the bliss of holding Zelda in his arms. The euphoric radiance when he grins down at her. Zelda is warm, and so beautiful, a living ray of sunshine tucked in his embrace. Link pushes a shining strand of hair behind her ear while she looks up at him, a smile on her lips. Link rests his chin on her head, finally at peace.