Chapter Text
From the moment Link became a part of Zelda’s life, she wanted him to go away. Every time she saw his stupid, perfect face, she scowled and wished he’d leave her alone.
Of course he didn’t. He was too dutiful for that. Curses, why did he have to follow her around like some loyal dog? She couldn’t even step into the castle’s kitchen for a quick snack without him accompanying her, and it was driving her insane. Even her demands and pleas to leave her alone were met with the politest of refusals.
Fine. If he insisted on being with her every waking moment, she might as well make him as miserable as she was. Maybe then he would give up. Quit his job. And she would finally have the peace and quiet she wanted to continue her studies, to find out a way to help in case she never awakened her sacred power.
“Link, fetch me that pitcher,” she commanded him, nodding towards the pitchers lined against the shelves nearby.
The slightest hint of frustration flickered through his eyes. It was demeaning to ask him to do a servant’s tasks when he was a royal bodyguard. Would he sacrifice his pride or compromise his duty to his role?
“As you wish, princess,” he said at last, reaching behind her to grab the pitcher. Her sharp intake of breath and racing heart had nothing to do with how close he was. Nothing at all.
“Where would you like me to put it?” he asked, his tone perfectly polite. His lips looked rather soft for someone who spent as much time outdoors as he did. Was he using beeswax to maintain them?
She cleared her throat. “After eating that egg tart, I’m thirsty and would like some water. Could you draw some from one of the castle’s wells for me?” Another demeaning task that one of the kitchen servants should be handling.
He hesitated, and triumph surged through her. Aha! She had him now. His pride wouldn’t let him handle such a menial task—
“Only if you accompany me so that I may continue to guard you,” he said.
O-Oh. So it wasn’t the task he objected to, it was not being able to do his duty.
He is quite dedicated to me. The thought came unbidden to her mind, and she quickly banished it.
She lifted her head. “Never mind then. I suppose you’re not the right person to ask.”
He raised an eyebrow, and she wondered what thoughts were flickering through his head. But he held his tongue. Goddess curse him for always having such an iron level of control over his emotions. Another area he excelled at that she did not.
“Link? Is there something you wish to say?” she prodded. She was playing with fire, she knew, but a devilish imp deep inside of her wanted to push him until he snapped.
A few moments of silence passed between them. His steady gaze searched her face, and she felt more and more unnerved the longer they stared at each other. Those eyes of his seemed to see right through her, and she wasn’t sure she liked what he saw.
“I will always do whatever you ask,” he said at last, “but please, consider my limitations when assigning me tasks.”
She scoffed. “Your limitations? As far as I can tell, you’re perfect at everything—”
“Is that why you despise me?” His words were blunt and to the point, the most direct and frank he’d ever been with her even as he maintained his polite tone. She should scold him for being so forward, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t help but notice the strange note of melancholy in his voice.
Could it be that he didn’t want her to despise him?
Well, why did he care what she thought? She was his (reluctant) charge, nothing more. And yet, heat crept up her cheeks at the thought he valued her opinion and was maybe, possibly, the teensiest bit upset about not being in her good graces.
Goddess, he’d been scrambling her thoughts even more than usual lately.
She cleared her throat again. “So you’re admitting you think you’re perfect?” If she kept the focus on him, his piercing gaze might finally let up and these uncomfortable revelations might finally stop—
“On the contrary. I know my own flaws and limitations better than anyone. And with all the respect I owe to your station, I must admit your requests are pushing me to my limits.”
Hah! So her tactics were working. He was getting more and more frustrated with her. Instead of being honest, however, she decided to be deliberately obtuse. “Asking for water is too difficult for you?” she politely intoned. “If so, I can always request a different guard.”
His eyes hardened and a muscle in his jaw clenched. “No, Your Highness.”
“Then shall we?”
They went to the closest well after that. She watched as he carefully drew water for her, the hot sun merciless on his body and causing him to work up a sweat. Her eyes flickered to the muscles in his arms and noted the strength and tension in his back, noticed how toned and shapely his legs and—
Ahem, this was not the sort of thing a princess should be thinking about. Still, he had a nice physique, and surely it wasn’t wrong to think so? He’d trained hard for the body he had, and she was simply admiring his efforts. Yes, that was it. She was just noting his hard work and appreciating it, much like she’d appreciate the hard work of anyone in the kingdom.
He poured the water from the pitcher into a cup for her, then handed it to her. She couldn’t help but smile at the raised eyebrows and curious glances from the castle’s servants. Link might be perfectly obedient, but he still had his pride as a man, especially for someone of his station. This sort of treatment and the ensuing loss of face was bound to get to him eventually.
“No, it’s too cold,” she said after tasting the water. Frustration flickered through Link’s eyes, and a sharp pang coursed through her.
Maybe…maybe she should stop. But it would be better if he quit, really, they’d both be happier for it, and it was clear he wasn’t going to quit without some encouragement. So she pressed forward with her ploy.
“There’s another well a little further from here, perhaps it will have water of a more agreeable temperature—”
“Or you can just wait a little while for the water Link has already so kindly fetched for you to reach the temperature you want.” Lady Urbosa had joined them, and she looked down at Zelda disapprovingly, her emerald eyes narrowed.
Hot shame coursed through Zelda. Disappointing Urbosa felt like disappointing her own mother. “Link, please accompany us to my room and then take your leave,” she hurriedly said. “You may rejoin me after I have finished speaking to Lady Urbosa.”
He nodded. There were few people he would entrust her with, but Urbosa was one of them. Once the door to Zelda’s room was closed and he was safely out of earshot, Urbosa sat on one of Zelda’s plush red velvet chairs. Even while seated she had such a towering, commanding presence. Zelda braced herself for the scolding she knew she was about to get.
“Why are you having a knight of the royal guard doing menial tasks for you?” Urbosa demanded, and Zelda winced. “That is no way to treat your loyal bodyguard. A person in your position using her power to torment a man she knows will not fight back is the height of cowardice.”
“But I—”
“You will be queen someday, Zelda, and a queen is no one without her people. The sooner you recognize that and conduct yourself accordingly, the better.”
Zelda hung her head. “I know I’ve been dreadful to him. I just…I can’t stand him, and he won’t stop following me! My father won’t replace him with someone else despite my requests, and even when I beg Link to leave me alone, he refuses.”
“You need a bodyguard. He’s just trying to do his job and protect you.”
“I don’t need his protection! I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. He’s just getting in my way!”
“So instead of making the most of his assistance, you’re punishing an innocent man for your failures,” Urbosa replied, her expression steely.
Zelda gasped. “That’s not true! Link really is insufferable. I wouldn’t scorn him so if he were truly innocent in all this!”
Urbosa raised an eyebrow. “Zelda, tell me: what grievous sin has he committed?”
“He’s…he’s frustratingly, nauseatingly perfect!” she cried. “That’s what’s wrong with him. He isn’t human!”
Urbosa pressed a finger to her cheek, studying Zelda closely. “So what I’m hearing is, he makes you feel inadequate.”
“How could I not?” All of Zelda’s pent up feelings burst forth like Death Mountain erupting. “He’s already a legendary swordsman. He has the Master Sword too, which is purported to be able to seal the darkness. He’s the best archer his age and can hit the bullseye every time. From horseback, at full speed. Oh, and he’s a master equestrian. He reads his horse like he knows her thoughts and reacts accordingly. I wish I could understand my horse that well! He’s a fast runner and can easily scale boulders and cliffs and even small mountains. He can swim rapidly too, probably due to all that time he spent with the Zora when he was young, and his endurance is impressive! How could I not feel inadequate compared to all that?”
Urbosa gave her an amused smile. “Well, at least you’re being honest with yourself now. But instead of envying him, maybe you should be grateful you have such a powerful ally on your side. You should treat him with the respect he deserves instead of frustrating him and alienating him at every turn.”
“It’s not just physical tasks he excels at,” Zelda said miserably, slumping onto the chair at her desk. A few research notes he’d helped her with caught her eye. Because of course he had to be good at helping her with her research too.
“He’s well-read,” she continued, her eyes flickering over the tomes on her bookshelves, “and while he isn’t very talkative, he’s eloquent and always has clever or thoughtful remarks when he does speak. His manners are impeccable, and he comes from an esteemed family of royal guards. He’s even good at a few musical instruments such as the ocarina and has dabbled in painting and poetry and the culinary arts.” She rested her hand on her cheek and sighed. “He always listens to me and doesn’t complain about being dragged to research sites all over Hyrule.”
Urbosa took a moment to process all of this. “Zelda, do you loathe this man or do you like him? Because I’m not sure which it is, and I’m starting to think you might loathe yourself for liking him.”
“Urbosa!” Zelda cried, whirling around to face her guest. “I do not like him, I despise him. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve just said?”
Urbosa wasn’t having it. She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow. “Well, now you’re just deceiving yourself again. I’ve never heard someone speak of their sworn enemy in such glowing terms before.”
Zelda sniffed. “Well, I might loathe him, but I’m not blind. He does have a rather handsome countenance and build.” A few awkward seconds passed by, and she sighed. “His eyes are quite nice. They’re clear like the goddess springs I keep praying to to no avail and as vivid as the sky on a cloudless day. And his hair is golden like the color of ripe Tabantha wheat and practically shines in the sun.”
Urbosa chuckled lightly. “Zelda, do you hear yourself? You sound like a court poet.”
“I know,” she mumbled, her entire face feeling as if it was on fire. “But it’s true. He’s slim and wiry and toned without a single bit of excess fat on his body because he has such complete discipline over every aspect of his life. And he’s not vain about his looks either, or I would’ve given him grief for it by now. He’s humble about everything and even seems a bit flustered by all the attention.”
“Including your attention?” Urbosa asked, and all rational thoughts fled Zelda’s mind.
“What?” she yelped, nearly jumping out of the chair. She hadn’t been giving him attention, not in that way, well, not too much anyway, she couldn’t help it when he stared at her with those beautiful blue eyes, and it was hard not to be distracted by his body, it was so perfectly in shape and he had such a handsome face and strong arms and gentle hands and muscular legs and a broad chest, surely that wasn’t her fault, to not admire his natural beauty would be the real crime—
“He’s been your bodyguard for months now and yet still puts up with how you’ve been treating him,” Urbosa said, breaking through her flustered thoughts as easily as she called forth lightning bolts. “Why do you think that is?”
“Do you think…do you think he fancies me?” Zelda squeaked. Oh heavens, was that even possible? The thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Yes, the kingdom fawned over her beauty, but it all felt so false and empty, and she ignored all attempts from suitors to woo her. It wasn’t right to think about love and marriage when she hadn’t awakened her sealing power, when she still had so much research to do. Only then would she allow herself thoughts of romance.
And yet…now that Urbosa had planted the seed in her mind, it had taken root and refused to leave. Was it possible that her dutiful knight was so dutiful because he had feelings for her? She just thought he was annoyingly dedicated to his job. Perhaps she’d been mistaken. Perhaps he was annoyingly dedicated to her. And if he was, then maybe that made the whole thing less annoying.
“I’d say he’s some level of masochist if he does like you,” Urbosa said wryly, “but yes, all signs seem to indicate as much.”
“But if you’re right about all this…then what does he see in me?” Zelda had hated herself for so long that it was hard to believe that someone might actually like her.
Urbosa shrugged, her eyes dancing like two pairs of verdant emeralds catching the light. “Maybe you should ask him.”
“I can’t do that!” She couldn’t ask Link if he liked her. That would be so horrendously untoward, so forward and brash. And what good would it do to know? He was doing his job either way, wasn’t he? And what if it all blew up in her face and he did quit or her father fired him?
She…she wasn’t sure she wanted that.
“Well, at the very least, you can stop making his job so difficult,” Urbosa said as she stood. “I think he would appreciate that greatly.”
“Yes, I can do that,” she mumbled. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s just…he reminds me of everything I hate about myself.”
“I know. But it’s not fair to take that out on him.”
She sighed. “You’re right, Urbosa. I’ll apologize and be kinder to him, I promise.”
With that, Urbosa took her leave. Zelda was about to close the door when she noticed Link quietly stationed outside of her room. Her stomach felt like a whole flurry of Summerwing and Winterwing butterflies had been set free in it, and her heart hammered in her chest and her head swam. How much of their conversation had he overheard?
“Link!” she cried. “I thought I told you to take your leave—”
His expression was unreadable. “His Majesty asked me to wait outside your door. I would’ve said something sooner, but I…I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Her face was crimson now, surely. He’d heard the last bits for sure. But had he heard the part about her praising his abilities? His appearance? Goddess have mercy.
She coughed and raised herself to her full height. “I pray you didn’t hear anything you shouldn’t have.”
He shifted, fiddling with his equipment. “I heard nothing that needs to go beyond me,” was his cryptic reply.
Oh no, so he had heard her praise him, hadn’t he? She wanted to sink into one of the Guardian excavation sites and never come out. This was all so horribly, horrifically embarrassing.
At least he seemed as uncomfortable as she was. That was a relief. He wasn’t teasing her or taunting her about any of this, even though she very much would have deserved it.
“Very well,” she said, her voice strained. “Please, accompany me to the library for my daily studies.”
As they walked along, he moved ever so slightly closer to her. “I didn’t mean to encroach on your privacy,” he said, his voice low so that they wouldn’t be overheard.
“I know,” she mumbled. “You were just doing what my father asked.”
He stopped and stared at her.
“What?” she asked, wanting to squirm under that steady, relentless gaze of his.
“Nothing, I’m just…surprised, is all. I thought you’d be angrier with me.”
She ducked her head. “I suppose I…I have treated you rather horribly, haven’t I?”
They walked in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of the plush red carpet against the stone floors rustling beneath their feet.
“I…I understand why you did,” he said at last. “Knowing why makes it easier to deal with.”
Because he’d overheard her conversation with Urbosa. Right.
“Well, you shouldn’t have to deal with it anymore,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
They’d reached the library, and he stopped at the entrance. “Lady Urbosa’s right, you know.”
She tilted her head. “About what?”
“You don’t see your own value, your own worth. All you see is your inadequacies, and you hate yourself for them. I wish you could see yourself the way I–I mean other people, do.”
She ducked her head again. It was hard not to feel inadequate when the safety of the kingdom was at stake thanks to her inability to use her sacred powers.
Wait, had he just said he wished she saw herself the way he did? How did he see her then?
“And for the record, I’m not perfect,” he quickly added, changing the subject. “I push myself far past my limits to the point it impacts my health, and I struggle to express my emotions. I feel a lot of pressure to perform my job perfectly and without complaint, and it gets to me sometimes. Like how you tried to humiliate me today. I kept my composure, but I knew what you were doing. And I wanted to snap. I wanted to fight back.”
She simply stared at him. He was being so honest with her, so forthright. She was seeing beneath the perfect knight mask, and she liked what she saw.
“But you didn’t snap,” she mumbled. “You didn’t fight back, even though you had every right to be angry with me—”
“No. It wouldn’t have been right to lash out.” He rested his hands on his hips. “What good is all my strength if I’m not using it to protect you? If I hurt the very person I’m supposed to guard with my life?”
She fiddled with the fabric of her sleeve. She wasn’t sure what to make of the thoughts swirling through her head right now. It was all just a muddled mess like Hyrule’s fields after a long rain.
He opened the library doors for her. “I hope the longer we work together, the more you’ll get to know the real me. Not the hero or the legend or the man you’ve put on a pedestal and despise for it.”
She strolled over to a nearby book about ancient Hylian recipes and opened it, avoiding his steady gaze. She took the book to one of the tables and read for a while, taking notes as he patiently waited nearby.
“For the record, Link,” she said at last, her voice sounding very small and timid, “I don’t despise you.”
His expression softened. “I’m glad you don’t.”
Her heart sped up, pounding in her chest like the steady clops of her horse’s hooves, and her face was scarlet. Maybe Urbosa was right. Maybe she did fancy him.
Goddess have mercy, what was she going to do with herself if she did?
What was he going to do?