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Chilled to the bone and in desperate need of a nap. Maybe a little hungry–or, maybe a lot hungry if she were forced to admit it. But even under Link’s skeptical, scrutinizing looks, Zelda wouldn’t concede to such until they were safely arrived at Hateno Village. Besides, where could they stop? The torrential rain had sent mudslides cascading through any cave entrances she knew to usually be on their way. No shelter meant no fires which meant no warmth or even half-baked food until they reached the village.
“Almost there?” Zelda gasped.
“Almost there,” Link promised when he looked over his shoulder to see Zelda was stopped with her hands to her knees, panting heavily after walking up the latest incline. He had drawn the master sword to cast some light through the downpour and it left a mysterious blue glow along the edges of his frame. His face was obscured in shadow under his hood, drawn up much like her own, so she couldn’t make out his expression–the one that would ideally tell her whether or not he was being hopelessly optimistic about their estimated time of arrival. She didn’t have much choice but to take him at his word and the hand offered her way.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before a warm light appeared at the crest of the hill, and Zelda nearly sobbed in relief. Just then a crack of lightning illuminated the sky, and the looming silhouette of Purah’s research lab was finally visible atop the highest hill. They could stop at the inn just inside town, though. At least that's what Zelda supposed the plan was, clung to that hope in fact. The two passed under the arch leading into Hateno and their paces quickened as Link tugged Zelda suddenly to the right off their path. She nearly tripped over sodden planks of wood embedded in the mud, then suddenly it was no longer earth beneath her feet and she could hear the creaking of a bridge. Link wordlessly pulled her a couple more feet until she could see the cabin standing before them, and he pushed open the door without a moment’s hesitation.
Zelda was prepared to chastise him for barging into a stranger’s home, but she took pause the moment she stepped inside. The home was just that–comfy, homely. Well-kept furniture with soft woven fabrics laid across the tables, small pots with flowers sitting by the windows, a wood loft raised off to the side with boxes stowed beneath it. She stared at one wall adorned with shields, some cleaned and shining while some bore a few scratches from past battles. Pictures printed in sepia, likely created from the Purah pad, were framed and hung. Zelda shivered, very aware of how wet her clothes were, and she was dripping all over the floor. Link didn’t seem to mind, and never one to waste any time changing clothes, she noticed he’d left his muddy boots and hung his dripping cloak on a metal hook just inside the threshold.
Slowly and awkwardly, Zelda did the same. “Rest,” Link told her with a quick glance before he went about the room, grabbing a piece of flint out of a wooden chest stored with the other boxes, and a kettle off one of the shelves. She watched his movements, realizing quickly that they were practiced. She’d seen him loot ruins before and pick his way through long abandoned belongings, but seeing him move about the house she could tell he’d been here before, knew exactly where each item was kept, must have remembered where he’d left it the last time…
“This is your house,” she remarked. Link looked up like he’d forgotten for a moment that he had company before offering a smile and nodding. He turned back to the cooking pot and started a fire beneath it. Zelda vaguely recalled Link being born to a line of Royal guards. When he’d talked of living for a time in a rural village to the southeast, Hateno wasn’t the first one to come to mind. After all, it used to be that and nothing more, but grew slowly in the decades of her father’s rule, and only continued after the calamity while the two of them would’ve been… indisposed.
All that aside, she guessed this wasn’t always his house? And surely it would’ve fallen to ruin along with the rest of Hyrule. The walls looked newly plastered and constructed, though. The construction crew she’d met must’ve had something to do with its rebuilding. She was so cold and tired and soaked that all of the logistics were a muddled mess in her mind.
But the fire looked warm.
Zelda walked across the room and plopped herself onto the floor next to the fire. Link joined her, already preparing something in the pot for them to eat. The thought of food alone made her mouth water. At the moment Link could hand her the most graphically upsetting bowl of monster stew and it might still tempt her. Luckily whatever he was making smelled more like wild boar and hylian rice, and she watched him crush a piece of rock salt into the pot to season it. It felt like her clothes were finally drying while they sat quietly beside the fire, and she had some new life in her after they ate their meal at the worn wooden dining table.
Zelda had hoped her mind would feel as recharged, but in fact she just noticed how much more exhausted she was. They’d been traveling for days from village to village. Hyrule’s weather was only so accommodating, and even when it was sunny, Zelda would swear under her breath every time Link insisted they stop for a minute. She had no idea why he had to stop to observe large yellow flowers, shoot balloons out of the air, and place rocks into circles of other rocks, but he always smelled a little weird after he got done, and she’d decided simply not to question it.
She felt Link’s eyes on her where she sat, and when she looked up he smiled knowingly. “There’s a bed upstairs,” he said. He stood up first and she followed. The fire had burned low in the corner, their cloaks and boots now laid out beside it to dry. Link picked up a candle lit lantern and carried it with him as he led her up the stairs. The loft was similarly cozy to the rest of the house, and Zelda felt her eyes drawn to some of the pictures on the wall, unperturbed by Link shifting the bed’s blankets behind her.
“I took this one!” she exclaimed, pointing at one with a familiar looking horse, its lustrous long mane braided and tied with ribbons. The color wasn’t clear because of the sepia parchment and ink, but Zelda knew it was royal purple, and the horse’s entire body would’ve had a golden sheen to it.
“It’s a good picture,” Link said, almost sheepishly. Both his words and the mere sight of the framed photo before her stirred feelings inside Zelda–nearly brought tears to her eyes. She shook her head and the longing with it.
“I should compile some of our photos from the trip here into a compendium at the lab,” she thought out loud. Think practical thoughts, she told herself. Link nodded and patted the blankets on the bed.
“We can ask Robbie about it. Here.” Zelda looked between the bed and him for a moment before sitting tentatively on the mattress. It gave a bit under her but otherwise felt soft and warm. She pulled off her blue tunic leaving only a white cotton shirt beneath and then pulled the blankets over herself. Link was still rifling through a wooden wardrobe, so Zelda turned on her side away from him, brushing her fingers over the mattress covering. She expected to miss her bed in Hyrule Castle, with its down pillows and silken sheets. This was different, but still good, not unlike the beds in their soldiers’ barracks. There was a sweet smell like warm safflina to the blankets, mixed with the rainwater in her own hair. The blankets were needed, as the dampness in the rest of her clothes and the dying fire down below reminded her of the chill deep in her bones. She shivered, pulling the blanket a little tighter. Beneath her bundle the mattress was soft, it creaked and then listed-
The warm weight that suddenly appeared at her back had Zelda quickly looking back over her shoulder to see Link. Her appointed knight was there sans tunic and tie in his hair, and too fast for her mind to register, she watched him lay back on the bed, letting his head hit the pillow with a thud. One of his feet hung over the edge and he already had his eyes closed. She hadn’t noticed him carrying the master sword up with them but just behind his suddenly very shirtless torso she saw the glint of its purple handle close enough for him to grasp. Zelda stared, face hot and mouth agape and she could hear herself starting to say words but no part of her knew what to say. Instead her mind raced with thoughts like of course he’s sleeping in the bed it’s his bed in his house but then why didn’t he tell me to sleep somewhere else like by the fire or at the inn or-
“Princess?”
His voice startled her and Zelda met his questioning blue eyes. That loud pounding in her ears must be her heartbeat, she realized. Quickly she composed herself and shook her head. The pounding subsided only a little. “Nothing!” she blurted, turning away and pressing the side of her face to the pillow. Again, “Nothing…” quietly left her lips.
A few minutes passed, and she wasn’t sure if that was just Link’s steady breathing or if he’d fallen asleep like that beside her. She was still cold, and the sleepiest parts of her mind couldn’t help but remind her how warm he felt at her back. On the edges of unconsciousness, Zelda didn’t know what possessed her to sidle closer to him, to- to put the blankets over Link more. Right, that was the intention, she decided, as she pressed a little closer to him.
His eyes were still closed, blonde lashes resting atop his cheeks like golden sun rays. His nose pointed to the ceiling, and his ears twitched almost imperceptibly with every crack and crick that sounded from beyond the house’s walls. He smelled like the rain too, and maybe a little like a horse.
Zelda certainly wasn’t dwelling on any of those facts, just like she certainly wasn’t letting her fingers brush against his beneath the blankets. And it certainly wasn’t something she’d pretend to forget the next morning, because certainly they had more important things to worry about.