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Zelda sprawls on the couch, lazy and relaxed. She’s had a Noble Pursuit or two and holds another in hand, making the room pleasantly unfocused. Through the haze of alcohol and tiredness, she can make out Rotana on the couch to her right, still delivering an extensive and heavily slurred version of her latest archeology conference presentation as two other Gerudo women nod distractedly along.
Across the room, by the bar to her left, stands Link.
Judging by how animated he is, moving his hands wildly while he speaks to a stone-faced Buliara, no one would suspect just hours before Zelda almost came alone.
It’s an established fact to all that they share everything in life, she’d told him. No one would bat an eye at sharing clothes, let alone an invitation. Yes, you don’t need to anymore, but wear the dress and the jewelry anyway, it’ll be lovely.
Zelda finds that it is, and he is. Lovely, that is. She’s drunk and in love.
In this happy fog, she takes the time to revel in the plushness of the sofa, the light joy of Riju’s birthday bash, and be thankful for the warmth and strength of her people. Through the years of her very eventful second chance at life, Zelda has been many things - a scholar, a teacher, a leader of the land, a legend in name and deed, a beast - and she has never felt so welcome as she does in this moment. In the face of tragedy and cataclysm(s), the people of Hyrule have, through sheer force of will, gone on as if no one told them the world was supposed to end. Rotana is now stuttering through what may be an ode to the Seven Heroines but may also be a bawdy drinking song, Riju leads a stumbling squadron of Gerudo soldiers in a complex linedance, somewhere all her friends are being their wonderful selves, and children are born and people help each other and cheat each other rotten, and Link exists and Link is here with her because he’s always with her.
Her eyes feel hot and wet. She’s an emotional drunk and such an ugly crier, even though she has already cried so much. For an eon, actually.
Rotana’s declamation is suddenly interrupted by Link approaching and a loud cheer from Deltan and Liana, who throw their hands in the air and then laugh screaming as their drinks spill out onto their heads. They’re not really excited to see Link, Zelda thinks, they’re just generally excited. They’ve also had five cups of whatever they’re drinking, so there is that.
In retaliation, Link grabs Deltan’s cup and downs the remaining contents in a single chug, which begets more cheering that feels pointed this time. Once he’s done, he wipes his mouth with a satisfied sigh, places the cup on the table by Rotana’s elbow, and then promptly plops down onto Zelda’s lap. He does this dramatically with a happy little noise, throwing his arms around her neck and letting his head flop onto her shoulder with a cheerful jingle of jewelry.
“Hi,” he mumbles.
“Hi. Did Buliara get tired of you already?”
“Mmno.”
“No?”
Link sighs against her neck, “missed you”. He’s really laying it on thick, too, coyly twirling a sweaty lock of hair by her nape with a finger.
Zelda decides to play along. She’s weepy now, and Link makes the best distraction. She places a hand on his thigh, running her thumb back and forth. It’s such an interesting contrast, she thinks, the cool softness of the enchanted blue silk over the warm muscle of his thigh. He’s not unlike the silk: dainty, but of exceptionally durable make.
She thinks the most romantic things, sometimes. It’s a little disgusting.
“Did you?” She replies at last. “I’m about ready to go home.”
Link waves a hand and his bracelets clink together softly by her ear. “No, take your time, catch up. I’ll just hang out here with you meanwhile.”
Here with you seems to mean here in your lap , because he stays put. He only rolls his head onto Zelda’s shoulder to better see the people around them, who seem to be trying very hard to not pay attention to them. Zelda realizes they may have been a little rude, and resolves to care once she’s sober.
Bartha and Rotana have now moved the conversation onto the topic of Bartha’s latest misadventure in the desert, which apparently yielded a new discovery Rotana thinks might be of some historical significance. Normally Zelda would find this fascinating, but her body feels heavy and tired with Link sitting warm in her arms. Her head seems full of cotton. Link smells like Zelda’s favorite perfume, which she spritzed on the dress after the last time she washed it. Is it weird and possessive that she likes that, him in her clothes, when he has amassed such a collection of his own, not for any reason other than he wants to? She wraps her arms around him fully, pulling him closer into her, and he gives a little sigh.
Zelda has no idea what the conversation is even about anymore and she can’t pretend otherwise. They need to leave as soon as possible.
While she contemplates this, the hand she has placed around Link’s waist wanders up to his shoulder. He looks up at her, bemused, his eyes the robin’s egg blue of her favorite mug in their Hateno kitchen. She only smiles, and he smiles back, sleepy and content. She cups his full cheek, and traces the laugh lines forming around the corners of his eyes with a reverent thumb. Link gives a soft sigh, and her thumb moves to caress the corner of his mouth, then the plushness of his bottom lip.
Zelda pushes her thumb into the skin, watching it pale and then flush. When she drags it down so his teeth begin to show, Link’s mouth stays open, as if waiting. She draws her hand down to touch the jewelry around his neck, then watches his chest heave and his throat work against thin gold chains. Carefully, he asks: “Do you like it?”
“Looks beautiful,” she says, and it’s true. Carefully, she touches the side of his neck, where his pulse beats quickly under mother-of-pearl. “You should never take it off.” Still careful, she moves her thumb, hand wrapped lightly around his beloved throat. When she tightens her grip, Link gasps and she can hear it through the music blaring, the sounds of the party, the conversation taking place right next to them between people who are now pointedly trying to ignore them.
They leave immediately, before they can get kicked out.