Work Text:
Three knocks on the door, like she always does.
It creaks as it opens. Her face is sleek from the rain, her only protection from such in the form of the light fabric of her hood. She is as stunning as always, they think.
“May I stay for a while?” Zelda inquires to them, as if the question were necessary. They nod, and she floats inside.
She removes her hood, wipes her face, and sits slowly onto the bed. They head below the loft to prepare a meal. She looks as if she needs one. She begins to speak.
“What are you making?” She asks.
“Meat skewers,” they reply. “I thought you might need one.”
“I’m fine, you don’t need to do that.”
“I insist, princess. You look tired.”
She pauses for a second to ponder her rebuttal.
“You don’t need to call me princess anymore.” She pouts.
“Are you not one?” They say with a slight, obscured smirk.
“That's besides the point.” She scoffs
“What is the point then?”
“Link…”
She pauses for a second time, but clearly for a different purpose. Link turns around to face her in the silence, only to be met with her folded into her hands in tears.
“What’s wrong?” They ask, hurrying to the bedside.
“I don’t know, Link,” she gasps between labored sobs. “Well, I do know, but…I don’t know how to phrase it.”
“Try to. I’m here to listen.” They sit on the bed next to her. She continues to cry before gripping and leaning into Link’s chest.
“I’m not here to talk about it. I’m here to cry to you.”
“As long as you’re with me, I’ll allow it.”
She lets out a short, breathy laugh between tears.
“You’re too cheesy for your own good,” She sniffs, sobs stifled, if only for a moment.
The pair sits in near silence, broken only by Zelda’s tears and the crackling of logs in the hearth. She’s laying in Link’s arms, lightly staining their garments with salt. Her sniffs turn into heavy breathing, and she seems to stabilize. Eventually she musters the courage to speak again.
“Why are you so warm?” She asks, almost whining.
“To balance you out, I guess. We can’t have you freezing to death.” They respond matter-of-factly. “We’re like a Yin-Yang.”
“Would I be the yin or the yang?”
“Oh, you’re definitely the yang, Zelda.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re on the bottom.”
“Oh stop it! As if!” She exclaims, striking their back playfully. They laugh together for a while. The cabin warms up ever so slightly.
Zelda sighs. She tightens her grip around their back. Link runs their hand underneath her chin before slowly raising her to eye level. Her eyes, still wet with tears, gleam a warm emerald green in the firelight. They hover mere centimeters from each other, analyzing every bit and piece of each other’s faces. Such a moment, synonymous with this bed, cabin, and this hylian, is what she came here for. She is acutely aware of this.
“Why is it that every time I come here crying, I leave smiling?” Zelda asks, a question they both know the answer too all too well.
Link need only deliver a light kiss in response.