Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Late afternoon sunlight streams through the room’s one window, casting an elongated golden rectangle across the smooth wooden floor. Standing in the doorway of the study Link built for her, Zelda knows the irrational fear that consumes her is out of place in this otherwise cozy room. Why is it, months after she’s been transformed back to herself, can she not shake the fear that any minute she’s going to wake up a mindless dragon floating far above Hyrule? It gnaws at her sanity, threatening to break the tenuous hold she currently has on her daily life.

Zelda tries and fails not to think about the fact that Link built this room during a time when he knew she’d swallowed the secret stone, willingly giving up her soul and him in the hopes of saving Hyrule once and for all. He had no way of knowing if she would ever return, but all the same, his first thought was only of her and what would make her happiest.

Even though he’s yet to say the words since her return, Zelda feels the love that permeates the walls. It’s infused in every stone, wooden slab, and glass pane. Stepping into the room, she runs her fingers over the leather blotter pad in the center of the simple wooden desk before settling in the cushioned chair. An iron lantern hangs from the ceiling directly above, and that, along with the round hurricane lamp on the corner of the desk offers plenty of light when the room grows dark. Link has filled a bookshelf that spans one wall from floor to ceiling with all her books, scientific journals, and a few new ones he picked up during his quest to find her. Surrounded by all the things she loves most in the world, there is only one thing missing. Him.

Zelda gazes out the window at the setting sun, dipping beyond the peaks of Death Mountain Range. Link, ever patient and kind, has never questioned her need for solitude and gives her all the space she desires. Today is the first day since she’s returned that he’s ventured out past the property line. He’s in the valley between the mountains and Tarrey Town visiting Hudson, who’d sent word that morning of needing Link’s assistance. Link had checked in with her before leaving, and she’d assured him she would be alright and was ready to be on her own.

All the same, she’d nearly raced after him when the silence that fell over their home when he left became oppressive to the point of becoming unbearable. Zelda doesn’t want to keep Link from enjoying one of the things he loves best, helping others. So instead, she’s retreated to this small, intimate room, where she can feel his presence the strongest, and awaits his return.

Twisting in her chair, she plucks the journal chronicling Link’s quest to track down the dragon tears. She’s reviewed it countless times, rereading his growing despair with the revelation of each faded memory until the last where his entries cease. The page is blank after the recount of the final memory. That suddenly wordless void speaks volumes of Link’s desolate acceptance that once again the needs of the many have outweighed the needs of the two.

Her heart aches as she traces her fingers over the page, recalling his terror-filled eyes as she fell away from him. If it hadn’t been for Sonia and Rauru, Zelda is uncertain what she would have done, lost in the past with no hope of returning home. As it was, the choice she’d been forced to make had nearly cost them everything, if not for the saving grace of two spirits who had swiftly become second parents to Zelda.

But what if? The weight of the ultimate decision to sacrifice herself fills Zelda with guilt and dread. She had no way of knowing if it would work, if the Master Sword would be restored, better than ever. She would never have known and Link would have been left bereft in a broken, hopeless Hyrule, knowing she’d relinquished her soul for nothing, while she drifted aimlessly above, without a care in the world. Or worse, it did work, but the choice was truly irreversible, and he’d been left alone with a restored sword that had been the bane of both their existences since the very beginning. Clenching her fists, Zelda bites back a sob, glad Link isn’t there to hear her crying… again.

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“So, what do you think?” Hudson stands in the middle of a smooth, oval floor inside a large barn. The wooden slats have been sanded until perfectly smooth and varnished. The result is a shiny surface reflecting the glow of the hundreds of brightblooms twisted into a large ball and hanging from the center of the ceiling.

“What is it?” Link crosses his arms on a fence rail and leans against the slat. It surrounds the large corral except there isn’t a gate to keep the cattle in and predators out.  

“I’m thinking of calling it Skate Town. Look!” Hudson pulls a boot from the pouch slung across his chest and hands it to Link.

The shoe is heavier than Link expects and he realizes it’s because of the sole. Holding it up, he sees that Hudson has fashioned four spoked wheels and attached them to the bottom of the boot. 

“You put wheels on a boot.” Link doesn’t understand its function. Anyone who attempted to wear it on uneven ground or cobblestones was asking to break their neck.

“Mattison always wanted to skate, but we don’t get ice here. This is my solution. I call them roller skates!”

Realization dawns on Link and he reexamines the shoe. His eyes light up with the understanding of why Hudson asked him here. “You want me to try them out?”

“Would you?” Hudson hands the other boot to Link. “Mattison is visiting soon and I want to surprise her!”

Chuckling, Link sits on one of the many benches scattered outside the paddock and removes his boots before donning the skates. Taking a deep breath, he rolls them back and forth over the floor before rising unsteadily from the bench. Unlike the blade of an ice skate that is stationary, the wheels threaten to roll out from beneath him. Keeping his arms away from his sides and feet firmly centered below him, he’s able to maintain his balance.

However, when Link attempts a step toward the rink, the wheels slip out from under him, and flailing, he grabs the rail for support. “Whoa! That’s going to take some getting used to.”

A worry line forming between his brows, Hudson off when the burly carpenter steps toward him, but Link confidently waves him off. Stepping onto the smooth floorboards, Link loosely holds on to the top rail, mimicking the movements of ice skating. After a few circuits he releases the fence, venturing further onto the rink. As his confidence grows, Link picks up speed, feeling a rush of wind in his hair as he smoothly circles around the rink.

When he passes Hudson, the carpenter grins widely and gives him a thumbs up. Link smiles back before realizing he’s not sure how to stop his momentum. He tries turning sharply, but the wheels don’t slide over the floor like a traditional skate and it only changes his direction. Instead, he stops pushing his feet along and glides toward the fence. He grabs the rail, but it’s more jarring than he expects and his abdomen collides with the fence. 

“Oomph!” Gripping the fence post, Link turns around and tentatively lifts one foot. “Mattison is going to love this, Hudson, but you need to figure out a way for the skater to stop. You can’t turn on rupee with these wheels like you can on a blade. It needs something like the toepick on an ice skate.”

Hudson nods his head. “I’ll figure something out before Mattison arrives.” He leans against the railing as Link exits the rink to remove the skates. “Do you think Princess Zelda would like it, too?”

Link pauses unlacing the boots and gazes at the glowing brightbloom light fixture spinning at the center of the ceiling. Since the Upheaval, they’ve sprung up and now bloom anywhere it’s dank and dark. The chandelier is beautiful and unique, just like his Zelda. Only, Link isn’t sure what she likes anymore or if she still wants to be his. She’s not quite the same as she was before the fall. 

Shaking off the misgiving—now’s not the time for self-pity—he pulls off the skates and sets them on the bench. “Maybe?”

Hudson nods. “Well, I’m planning a big party celebrating Mattison’s return. Feel free to invite any of your friends, Link. Who knows? Maybe this will become an annual reunion of friends and family!”

Link ponders that suggestion and imagines what a gathering like that would entail. It may be fun, but the name Hudson has chosen… “I have to warn you, you may be ribbed for calling it Skate Town .”

“What’s wrong with Skate Town?!” Hudson places his hands on his hips, and his generous amount of hair shakes along with his indignation.

“Nothing, per se. It’s just a little too obvious.” Noticing the deepening shadows outside, Link slings his satchel over his shoulder and heads to the open barn door. “I need to get back home.” 

Since her return, he’s been hesitant to leave Zelda alone. Seeing as this is the first time he’s been away for an extended time, he fears she’ll start to worry if he’s gone much longer. At least, that’s what Link tells himself, knowing deep down his fear stems from his own worry that she’ll disappear in the blink of an eye. Or that it’s all been a dream and she’d never been there in the first place.

Hudson calls after him. “Too obvious? This from the fellow whose nickname is Swordsman !”

“I didn’t choose it!” Link playfully tosses over his shoulder despite his trepidation before disappearing into the twilight and trudging up the path toward home. His heart grows heavier with each step, thinking of why he’d been given the title and how it ultimately wasn’t enough to save Zelda on two separate occasions. And that’s something Link will have to live with for the remainder of his days.

Chapter Text

As he walks home, Link collects wildflowers along the way, creating a vibrant bouquet in shades of pink, blue, yellow, and white. He tries to keep the vases in the house in fresh supply, as the sight of wilting flowers, their stems drooping and petals littering the tabletops is too depressing. He’s not sure if he does this for himself or Zelda, only that the need for color and life is great. 

It’s been several months since she’s returned, but aside from an initial debriefing with Purah at Lookout Landing, Zelda hasn’t been keen to engage with anyone, other than Link. He’d been surprised when she told him she wasn’t even ready to face her students in Hateno, who’d missed her so much while she was away and were anxious to see her again. 

Link had intended to keep the Akkala home a secret until she was ready, especially since the implications behind why he’d built the house were blatantly clear, but it seemed the best option given the circumstances. She craved seclusion to come to terms with things and Link was happy to oblige, but perhaps they’ve been too reclusive. 

As much as he’d like to stay blissfully unaware of the world outside their new home, Link knows in the long run it isn’t what’s best for Zelda, or himself for that matter. Link has to admit it has been nice to have a change of scenery and see an old friend. The idea of inviting all their friends for a visit is enticing, but Link isn’t sure Zelda is ready for a social engagement of that caliber.

She’s been slower this time in picking up the pieces and moving on with her life, not that Link can blame her. The loss of Rauru and Sonia is still fresh for her. Compound that with awakening breathless from nightmares of being lost in an endless, mindless void, and it’s little wonder his Zelda has yet to return. Link is beginning to wonder if she ever will. 

If he’s honest, he’s not been the same since, either, so he can’t place all the indecision and isolation solely on Zelda’s shoulders. Link has been hesitant to resume their lives, fearful of what may transpire, and that’s something he isn’t used to. He’s never been so afraid to the point of inaction.

He pauses when he reaches the path that leads to the front door. The house, built in the lee of a hill, is shrouded in shadows now that the sun has dipped below Death Mountain. Other than the light in Zelda’s second-floor study, the rest of the windows are dark. She’s in the study he built for her; he thinks it may be the first time.

When they’d arrived at the house and he showed her the study and her bedroom, she’d grown pensive, silent. Taking in the bookshelves, the comfortable chairs, and the warm lighting.

“Why?” she’d finally asked, her face a study in confusion. 

Link had babbled an incoherent answer about never accepting that she was gone forever which had them both blushing and deciding it best to drop the subject for some other day and time. The idea that they might actually have that luxury, and take advantage of it, still seems foreign.

He swallows. He knows he’d put his head in the sand when she disappeared, but he hadn’t and still doesn’t like to use or think of the words gone, missing, lost, or anything that indicates Zelda was no longer a part of the world as he knew it. He also isn’t ashamed to admit that sometimes when the fear encroaches, he steals quietly to the door of Zelda’s room to ensure she’s still there sleeping soundly in her bed. Her bed in the second bedroom he’d added when Link began to doubt himself and what he thought they’d had before the Upheaval.

They’d grown… close . Close to the point they were living together, which probably had Rhoam rolling over in his grave, and Link had been thinking of asking if she wanted to make it official. Close to the point she’d apparently, happily tailored a new Champion’s tunic to replace the old one that Link knew she’d begrudgingly embroidered the first time around at the order from her father. She wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t loved him, right?

When he’d returned to their home in Hateno after the fall, hoping she’d somehow was there, he’d found no Zelda, but the entry in her diary detailing where she’d hidden the garment. He’d rushed back to the castle to retrieve it, hoping that by some miracle, if he performed that act, she’d reappear. But it had taken so much more and months of agonizingly following leads only to always come up empty, until…

Gripping the flowers he’s gathered on his walk home, Link stops that train of thought before it takes him down a well-worn path leading to misery and despair. All that matters is she’s here in the flesh and blood, even if it seems, they’re back to square one. Zelda is shy and uncertain with him, and oftentimes distant. There are moments when her eyes glaze and her words trail off. When that happens, he takes her hand and quietly waits for her to return to him. Apologies fall from her sweet lips when she comes out of it, and he tells her he understands. And he does because Link has been there and still, to this day, occasionally has lapses of memory. 

However, when he returned from the dead, even when he couldn’t remember, somehow he always knew he was in love with her. When he looks into her clear green eyes Link sees a depth of wisdom that spans not just one century, but thousands and it takes his breath away. He doesn’t dare ask if, during her long slumber, she’s grown past him for fear her answer will be ‘ yes ’.

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The savory aroma of meat sautéing in goat butter draws Zelda from her study. A flush warms her cheeks when she walks downstairs and sees a vase of colorful wildflowers in the middle of the table.

“They’re beautiful, Link.”

He looks up from his work in the kitchen and gives her a tender smile that she’s learned means he thinks she’s beautiful. Cheeks burning, Zelda offers a silent one of her own and goes to set the table.

When Link returns his focus to finishing up their dinner, Zelda steals glances when she knows he’s not looking. He’s different than she remembers him being before she left. Shy and distant, like he’d been so long ago. When she looks into his bright blue eyes she sees an old soul who has seen too much and still finds the strength to persevere. She also sees his undying adoration, which she knows is for her alone.

She wonders if she opens up more, perhaps he will, too. Her mind screams at her to tell him she still feels the same, but every time Zelda opens her mouth the words refuse to come. She doesn’t know what’s holding her back and hates herself a little more each day for withholding her feelings. Every morning she wakes up hoping to find herself in their shared bed in Hateno and that it was all a dream. They’d been close to something before she fell. What that something was she couldn’t say, only that her heart beat a little faster with nervous anticipation when she thought of where they’d been headed. 

Now, it’s like starting all over again, getting to know the new person each of them has become. Link keeps a respectful distance and she doesn’t press for more. He doesn’t touch her except when she loses herself to the vague memories that plague her. She’ll return from a waking dream to concerned blue eyes and her hand clasped tightly in his. A bitter laugh escapes her, thinking it a cruel twist of fate that their roles have been reversed. 

How many times do they have to be made over before Hylia will leave well enough alone and just let them be ? Is it too much to ask to be happy and just live ? Zelda can’t help but wonder if Hylia has some hidden agenda to keep them apart.

“Zelda.” 

Blinking, Zelda looks up from where she’s paused placing their chopsticks to find Link has set steaming bowls of rice and creamy curry on the table. He stands opposite her watching and waiting, as always. Her cheeks flush again, and a knot twists in her belly. What has she ever done to deserve his love and loyalty? She thought she’d laid those demons to rest long ago, but since her return, they’ve reared their ugly heads.

“I’m sorry, I was lost in my thoughts again.” She sinks to the cushion before her place setting and waits for him to do the same.

“How many times have I told you to stop apologizing?” Link’s tone is light, teasing, but she sees the concern in his eyes.

“Too many to count.” Zelda attempts a smile and isn’t certain she’s entirely successful. However, it must be enough because she observes the subtle shift in Link’s shoulders as tension is released. “How is Hudson?”

Taking her bowl, Link spoons rice and curry for her as he speaks. “He made something called roller skates and wanted me to test them out. It’s like ice skating. I think you’d like it.”

Zelda hears his unspoken question in the statement. “I haven’t been ice skating in ages. Literally.”

Link’s quiet huff and bright blue eyes widening in surprise stir something warm and familiar to bubble within Zelda and she smiles again. Small steps are better than no steps.

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The front door knocks against the table in the foyer, causing the blue and white vase filled with flowers to wobble precariously before righting itself. Looking up from her nest of pillows in the corner of the main room, Zelda smiles when she sees Link standing in the open doorway wearing his simple work clothes, a loosely woven cream tunic, and worn brown trousers. He brings with him a warm breeze and the scent of late spring. Zelda notices his skin is turning golden and sandy highlights streak his dark blond hair, from hours spent in the sun, tending their garden, grooming the horses, hunting, and making short excursions.

“How I long to sit with thee and while away the hours.” He quotes a line from Carik, Zelda’s favorite Sheikah court poet. “And gaze upon a sun-kissed world in a field of fragrant flowers.”

Since their dinner a few evenings before something has shifted between them and she welcomes the change. With the approaching promise of summer, her spirit has been improving and it feels like a veil is being lifted.

“What would Carik think, hearing you quoting him?” Zelda muses, setting the book aside she’d been reading and rising to her feet. 

Carik had been a not-so-silent rival to Link before the Calamity fell. He’d spent the remainder of his days composing sonnets to aid Link when he returned. His protégé, Kass had given Zelda a book of Carik’s poems when she and Link had visited him after the Calamity’s defeat. She’d been surprised when Kass shared a beautiful song Carik had composed that was a tribute to her and Link’s love.

“Carrot? Nothing complimentary, I’m sure.” His lips curve into a mischievous smile when Zelda snorts at the nickname before he shoves his hands in his pockets and gives her a questioning look. “It’s a beautiful, clear day and I’ve let the horses out to graze. Would you consider sitting outside with me?”

Zelda glances out the wall of windows that offer an expansive view of the green pasture and azure blue sea beyond. Epona’s deep chestnut coat and Star’s golden yellow shimmer in the afternoon sunlight. Their tails flick, indicating their contentment as they graze, cutting down grass allowed to grow tall. Link is hoping they’ll breed soon and produce a stunning dappled filly.

Worry twists cold in Zelda’s belly thinking of how she’s not had her monthly cycle since she’s returned. She’s afraid the trauma of her transformation has left her infertile or worse, she didn’t return fully human. Will Link still want her if it turns out she can’t bear children?

Looking back at him, he still stands patiently in the entry waiting for her to decide. Zelda shakes off her doubt and looks back at the horses. The scene is idyllic and would make a perfect study of nature. Perhaps it’s time for her to be a little more adventurous, even if that was taking a few steps outside the front door. Collecting her Purah pad, charcoals, and sketchbook from the kitchen table, Zelda joins Link. His eyes light up when he sees the tools she’s chosen and retrieves a blanket from the basket by the door. 

Choosing a spot near the horses, Link unfolds the soft blanket and spreads it on the grassy knoll. Kicking off her shoes, Zelda stretches out her legs and lifts her chin to the sun. A sea breeze carrying the faint scent of salt and brine ruffles her hair, tickling the nape of her neck.

Link lays on his back beside her, crossing his arms behind his head, and soon he is dozing, a contented smile gracing his lips. Zelda marvels that even though he’s never regained all his memories, some things remain unchanged - like his ability to fall asleep anywhere. When asleep the worry melts away from his face, leaving his visage youthful and unlined. She wonders what he was like before fate pulled him firmly into her embrace. There’s no one left to ask who would know.

Turning to a blank page in her sketchbook, Zelda opens her charcoals and begins outlining his profile. Capturing the way the sun casts shadows across his cheekbones and brings out the subtle highlights in his messy hair, her heart swells with love for him. She takes note of every detail–the warmth of the sun on her head, the soft whickers of the horses, and the gentle rhythm of Link’s breathing. It’s a perfect moment, forever frozen in time on the page before her, and Zelda doesn’t realize she’s weeping until teardrops splatter across the page.

Chapter Text

Sharp, searing pain in his side. Extremities growing cold. Warm, salty tears on his lips. Muffled crying, begging him to wake up. Wake up, Link .

Link sits up, right arm aching, and runs a shaky hand through sweat-soaked hair. Just a dream. He takes deep breaths, to still his racing heart, and reaches for the glass of water on the bedside table—only to freeze when the whimpers resume. Not a dream. 

Shoving the blanket aside, he springs from his bed, and crosses the hall, stumbling to a stop in Zelda’s doorway. She’s huddled on her side in the middle of her bed, knees drawn to her chest, with one hand on her abdomen and the other covering her face.

The full moon, shining through her window bathes her white nightdress in an eerie silvery light. A shiver, cold as ice, runs down Link’s spine when a vision of a Yiga, disguised as a crying Zelda trapped in a cage atop Dueling Peaks, flashes unbidden through his mind. Will she pounce on him, attempting to slit his throat if he draws nearer? 

“Zelda?” He keeps his distance, still uncertain if this is a dream or reality.

Jerking at his voice, Zelda removes her hand to reveal a pain-etched face. “Oh!” She stills and after a moment slowly sits up, hand pressing against her stomach. 

Shaking off the wariness, concern floods through him, and without hesitation, Link is at her side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands hover over her, assessing her condition. She doesn’t appear to be injured as far as he can tell. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She sniffs and unable to look at him, averts her eyes to stare past his bare shoulder. Even in the pale light Link can see her deep flush. Link’s cheeks heat, realizing in his haste to check on her he’s only wearing his sleep shorts. He’s about to apologize for his indecency when Zelda utters:

“Cramps.”

Indiscretion forgotten, Link realizes Zelda hasn’t needed her usual remedies for her menses for the past three full moons. Relief floods him that what plagues her is something easily treatable. “I’ll make the herbal tea that’s helped in the past.”

He stops by his room to quickly put on a pair of loose pants before descending the stairs. While he brews water to steep the soothing amoranth and cool safflina Link wonders why it took so long for her body to adjust to being human again and if Zelda had been worried. She’s been hesitant to talk about the effects, if any, the transition has had on her, and he berates himself for not pressing the matter. In his poor attempt to give her the space he thought she needed, perhaps Zelda has misunderstood Link’s inaction as no longer caring for her.

Once the tea is ready, Link adds honey to the steaming cup and fills an octo balloon with the remaining hot water. Placing them on a tray, he arrives upstairs just as Zelda emerges from the washroom. 

Spotting the heating pad, her chin trembles when she tries to smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Zelda, I’m glad you did. Is this, uh, the first time since…” Link trails off, handing her the balloon, and follows her back to her room. Setting the tray on the bedside table he remains by the bed, as Zelda sinks back against her pillows and holds the heating pad to her abdomen. 

“Yes, and it’s a relief, honestly. I thought…” Zelda lets out a shuddering sigh and reaches for the mug. “Never mind.” She takes a sip and smiles at Link from behind the mug. “You remembered, I like honey.”

He nods, mutely, shuffling his feet. She’s relieved, so that must mean she’s been concerned. Link’s heart grows heavy with guilt for not being more attentive. She looks small and vulnerable, and the way the moonlight turns her hair platinum, makes his heart ache with longing for the time before they fell. He’d hold her, rubbing gentle circles against her back until she fell asleep. He can’t assume that’s what she still wants, so he waits.

Zelda clears her throat and Link glances up to find she is looking at him through her long lashes, a slight worry line between her brows. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she asks, “Will you stay with me?”

Link is settling beside her before she finishes the question, careful not to jostle the tea. Leaning against the headboard, he wraps an arm around her slender shoulders. When she rests her head against him with a quiet sigh, he closes his eyes. Breathing in the light, floral scent of her, he allows himself to relax into this moment he’s been given to hold her close once more. 

Chapter Text

When she’s feeling better, Zelda allows Link to convince her to ride to the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab to visit Robbie and Jerrin. Before they depart, Link stops by Grantéson’s stall to pick up a letter for his parents. When Link returns he has a thick package that he places in a saddle bag.

“What is that?” Zelda watches him easily vault into Epona’s saddle from her perch. Star snorts and shakes his mane, pawing the ground, eager to start the journey. She gently tugs on the reins, the way Link taught her so, so long ago, and the stallion settles.

“Grantéson is sending the latest dream home catalog. He’s hoping his parents will buy a house closer to Tarrey Town.” Link clicks his tongue and they head up the path toward the high cliffs of Akkala where the Tech Lab stands.

They keep a steady trot, the companionable silence only broken by the clip-clop of the horses' hooves, and the occasional chuff as they flick their manes and tails. Zelda doesn’t miss the way Link’s shoulders tense as they approach the bend in the road that overlooks Rist Peninsula. He digs his heels into Epona’s sides, spurring her into a canter. Zelda glances down the rocky slope to the swirling peninsula. From Link’s journal, she knows that’s where the final dragon tear pool had been. 

Urging Star on, Zelda catches up and pulls alongside Link. “Are you all right?” 

Link looks over at her, shaking off a distant look in his blue eyes and giving her a crooked smile. “Never been better. I’m glad you decided to come with me.”

“It’s like old times,” Zelda recalls how pre-Calamity they’d visited northeast Akkala once when Robbie was looking for a plot of land to build a satellite lab. The lonely cliffs afforded an unobstructed view of the vast heavens. “Maybe we could stargaze tonight if the weather holds.”

Link looks up at the clear blue sky. “It’ll hold.”

When they crest the hill, the Tech Lab comes into view and the clang of a hammer on metal rings through the air. Jerrin greets them warmly as they come to a stop and Robbie pokes his head above the bulky parts strewn across the lawn.

“Look what those Yiga did to my Cherry! They were using her as a tailoring dummy, Princess! A tailoring dummy!” Jumping up, he runs his hands through his disheveled white hair.

His statement confuses Zelda, but she smiles warmly at the enthusiastic welcome. “It’s good to see you too, Robbie.”

“Yiga took over the lab while Robbie and Jerrin were away.” Link informs her as they dismount. “I cleared them out, but the damage they wrought on the building and its contents was extensive.”

“ That is an understatement, Link!” Robbie shakes an accusing finger at Link as if he had something to do with the state of things. Link merely chuckles in response and hands Jerrin Grantéson’s package.

Zelda spends the day assisting Robbie in reassembling Cherry, a task she finds she enjoys immensely. As they work, Link helps Jerrin, hauling the heavy crates filled with Zonai technology the Yiga left behind. He stacks them behind the lighthouse for Robbie to inventory later. In the evening they share a cold supper and when Zelda mentions studying the stars, Robbie offers them the use of his observation deck and telescope. 

While Zelda studies the night sky through the telescope, Link sets out their bed rolls and the cushions and blankets Jerrin gave them beneath the overhanging roof.

“It was kind of Robbie and Jerrin to allow us to stay the night.” Squinting through the lens, Zelda spies Dinraal undulating across the sky and her heart tightens in her breast. 

She turns away from the telescope to find Link staring at the red dragon, as well. Even though his expression is blank, the way he clutches the cushion in his hands indicates he’s having a flashback. She can see the slight tremors in the rigid muscles of his arms.

“Link.”

Zelda takes a hesitant step toward him, longing to reach out and brush back the hair that falls in his eyes as he shakes off the memory. When he focuses on her the relief that floods his face takes her breath away. 

“You’re really here?”

“I’m really here.”

Chapter Text

Settling on the blankets, Link focuses on stilling his racing heart as Zelda points out constellations to distract him as Dinraal glides past their line of vision. Spotting a falling star further eases their jangled nerves and takes their minds off the fear of what could have been.

Despite Link’s prediction to the contrary, storm clouds roll in, obliterating the clear view they’d briefly enjoyed. They retreat to the shelter of the overhang, and Link’s thankful for the respite, as stargazing with Zelda has left his head aching with the flood of other hazy memories. He has a faint recollection of sitting with her on the parapet between her bed chambers and study, looking up at the night sky. That had been once upon a time when Hyrule Castle was whole and the Calamity had yet to rear its ugly head. Link thinks they may have shared their hopes and dreams, but chasing after the images only causes them to dissipate more and his temples to throb.

Giving it up as a lost cause, Link settles back on the cushions, closes his eyes, and listens as Zelda talks about air pressure and how it equates to weather. Visiting Robbie and Jerrin hass been a good call. She’s been more engaged, peppering science facts into their conversations, and pulling the journal from her pocket to make notes throughout the day. 

“Did you know when cats wash behind their ears it means a storm is imminent? They can sense the drop in barometric pressure.”

“We should get a cat.” Link suggests when she stops for breath, and his voice catches. The ‘ we ’ was out before he realized and there’s no taking it back now that it’s floating in the ether. 

He cracks his eyes open and turns his head to gauge her reaction. She’s staring wide-eyed up at the slats above. The air between them is suddenly thick with anticipation that has nothing to do with the storm outside. It feels like an eternity before Zelda turns her head to meet his gaze. Link steadily holds her eyes, even though his stomach is trying to somersault out of his body through this throat.

“A cat, huh?” Zelda’s lips curl into a smile that sends Link’s stomach settling and heart soaring. “We could name him, Nimbus.”

“What if it’s a girl?” Link takes a chance and reaches for her hand. He thinks he might weep when Zelda threads her fingers through his like she used to… before. 

She’s alive, human, and slowly coming back to him. He has to remind himself to take it slow. Link isn’t sure what he’ll do if they take this promising step forward only to fall back two or more. He’s afraid to ask Hylia for help, but the prayer is out of his mind and winging to the heavens before he can reel it back.

Zelda’s grip tightens and her laugh is like a gentle breeze that lifts Link’s spirits further. She hasn’t sounded so carefree since the day she returned to him. “How does Celeste, sound?”

“Odd name for a cat, but whatever you want.” You can have , Link silently finishes the thought. It seems they’ve forged another bridge drawing them to each other, but he doesn’t want to scare Zelda back into her solitude.

Far out on the horizon lighting flashes over the sea and fat drops of rain begin to patter on the roof above. At the moment they are sheltered from the storm, but the course of the wind could change in an instant. 

Chapter Text

Zelda can’t remember the last time she’s slept undisturbed through the night. Her heart nearly burst when Link took her hand the previous evening. They’d fallen asleep with their hands still clasped tightly, but reaching out beside her now, Link’s bedroll is cold, and she finds herself alone. Voices mingle with the clatter of dishes below her, and the familiar aroma of freshly baked honey rolls and mushroom omelets wafts up the spiral staircase.

It’s a meal Link’s made for her countless times when they travel together. When she swallowed the stone she’d known what she was sacrificing -  this memory, her life, the hope of seeing her Hyrule again and returning to Link’s arms. She’d done it willingly in the hopes it would be enough to save Hyrule and him. 

Her stomach seizes with the phantom pain the transformation wrought on her. She never thought then as she felt her body and soul being stripped away she’d be sitting here feeling the warm sun on her skin, hearing her friends’ voices, overwhelmed by the smell of a breakfast made by the man she loves.

Zelda’s eyes burn and her chin trembles. She blinks rapidly, trying to prevent the flow of tears, but one escapes to trickle down her temple into her hair. Staring up at the slats, Zelda allows the tears to pool in her eyes and run down her face. She isn’t sure why she’s crying, only that fear and grief have an irrational grip on her senses. 

“Zelda?” Link’s call is followed by footfalls on the stairs.

Sitting up, Zelda brushes furiously at her face, wiping away any evidence of her lapse. If Link finds her in this condition, he’ll worry, and she’s caused him enough of that to last several lifetimes over. She bows her head so her hair obscures her face and starts folding up the bedrolls.

The scuff of Link’s boots announces his arrival and Zelda watches him through the curtain of her hair as he kneels beside her. “Let me help you with that.”

His fingers brush the back of her hand when he reaches for the bedding and a shiver runs down Zelda’s spine. When he touches her, it’s like a lightning strike. Zelda can’t stop the deep ache that threatens to consume her and she begins to tremble. She swallows the lump lodged in her throat, as her mind reels. The fear of losing herself or him for a third time is almost too much to bear.

She glances at him and falls into the depths of concerned ocean-blue eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Zelda should have known he’d see right through her. Feeling the tears threatening, she tries to force them back with a watery smile and fails. “I… I’m afraid.”

Setting the bedding aside, Link pulls her into an embrace. Zelda wraps her arms around his waist and buries her nose in his shoulder, breathing in his rich woodsy fragrance. 

“What are you afraid of?” His soft voice  in her ear as he gently strokes her hair is all the catalyst she needs. 

Clutching his back, her fingers grip the tunic she’d made and hidden away for him before they fell. She loves him so much it hurts, and she breaks.

“I’m not the same, Link.” 

Link tightens the embrace, offering her strength and comfort. His touch radiates soothing warmth, anchoring Zelda in the moment. “I know. I don’t expect you to be the same. No one does, Zelda. So, please let that fear go, and focus on living.” 

“I want to, I do.” Taking a shuddering breath, Zelda pulls back to look at him. “Yesterday was good, wasn’t it?” 

She doesn’t think she deserves him, but she’s certain, now more than ever, that she can never let him go. When Link nods, Zelda tries another smile and thinks she succeeds.

Chapter Text

Link’s heart pounds as he races through the house looking for Zelda. The visit with Robbie and Jerrin and her subsequent breakdown has exhausted her, and Link had been hesitant to leave her that morning. However, they needed supplies and she insisted she’d be fine for the few hours he’d be gone in Tarrey Town. 

His panic rises to epic levels as he calls her name and checks the last room, only to find it empty. Sprinting downstairs, he rushes outside, hands in his hair, and turns in a slow circle wondering where she could have gone. He forces himself to scan the sky above, but it’s thankfully clear of any celestial body, clouds, dragons, or otherwise. Grantéson’s voice cuts through Link’s whirling thoughts, informing him he saw Zelda heading up the path toward the Rasitakiwak Shrine not long ago. 

Link shouts a harried thanks as he runs up the hill to the shrine that overlooks the house. He cleared out the constructs long ago, but he hurries all the same. His body vibrates with tension as the elevator descends at what feels like an agonizingly slow pace. Jumping off the platform before it completely settles, Link moves into the dimly lit, cavernous space. 

After the machinery’s rumble ceases Link can hear a faint melody echoing through the large hall. That’s new, or he never noticed it before. Once his eyes adjust he follows the sound of the music, looking around pillars and in the darkened corners of the room as he progresses.

Approaching the doorway that leads to the cella, relief floods through Link when he sees Zelda standing in front of Rauru and Sonia’s statues. Her hands are clasped at her breast and she softly sings. Link strains to make out the words, but it sounds like she’s singing in an ancient Hylian dialect. Mesmerized, he pauses at the threshold to observe. As she sings, her hands begin to glow and she opens them, revealing her secret stone. 

Link’s heart seizes in his chest, as he holds back a gasp. How can she be so calmly holding it? Doesn’t she remember the physical pain it caused her and the mental anguish him? It takes all his willpower not to charge to the altar, knock the cursed stone from her hands and smash it to smithereens with his sword.

Instead, he clenches his fists and tries to even out his ragged breath while Zelda continues to weave a sorrowful melody that floats in the air around them. The golden light she holds pulses in time, casting eerie shadows over Rauru and Sonia’s stony visages as she draws to a close.

When the last of her echoing voice dissipates and the glow fades from her fingers, Link straightens up and steps inside. His voice comes out in a trembling rasp when he speaks. “Why do you have your stone?”

“Oh!” Zelda startles, eyes darting to the side when she turns and sees him. Her cheeks redden, but she quickly regains her composure, and clasps her hands in front of her, hiding the stone from sight. “I thought maybe if I came here… with the stone, I’d feel their presence. But, I suppose they’re truly gone.”

Sighing, she pockets the wretched stone as she approaches Link, and holds out her hand. He hesitates, wanting to pursue her reasoning behind using the stone. Despite her melancholy, she seems content. He’ll ruin the moment if he voices his misgivings. Link shoves his trepidation to the side and focuses on trying to enjoy the time with her he’s been given. 

Hoping she won’t feel how much he’s shaking, he takes her hand and leads her out into the large antechamber, leaving the ghosts of the past behind them. 

Zelda looks over with worry in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

He nods, looking into her emerald green eyes, shining with unshed tears for her long-lost mentors. Link longs to kiss away all the pain and remind her of what they once had. 

Zelda must sense the direction his thoughts have taken, since her flush deepens and she ducks her head, twisting away to gaze at the ceiling. “What was the puzzle in this one?”

Link’s disappointment is tangible, but maybe he deserves to feel this way. He can’t help thinking if only he’d been better, stronger, none of this would have happened. He’s to blame for her being lost, and forced to swallow the stone.

“Running over constructs with a concrete slab and shooting them with a cannon.” Link points where the vehicle he’d modified still rests against the wall. She used to love studying the Sheikah technology and had come more alive helping Robbie. If she wasn’t ready for a kiss, perhaps…  “Want to see if it still works before we go?”

“Of course! I imagine you enjoyed that immensely.” Zelda releases his hand to pull her journal from her pocket. “Mind if I take notes?”

“How are you going to do that if you’re steering?” The way her eyes light up makes up for his fear, her distance, and is the best reward Link’s ever received inside a shrine.

Chapter Text

Nervous. Link appears nervous as he stands in the doorway of her study, holding a sheaf of parchment in one hand and tapping the side of his thigh with the other. 

“There’s, uh, something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”

Zelda’s stomach knots with anticipation as her mind flashes back to another time he looked at her with the same furrowed brow, chewing the inside of his cheek, just as he is now. Zelda hasn’t seen him this wound up since the early days in Hateno. Facing a former princess to ask her to be his was seemingly scarier to him than facing down the fiercest of beasts. 

After he’d assured her that he didn’t expect her to be the same, she’d thought he’d tell her then that he still loved her. The fresh flowers he brings her every time he leaves to visit Tarrey Town for supplies or spends the day hunting are sweet gestures, and the looks she’s caught him giving her when they’re sitting by the fire in the evening reading bespoke of his devotion. 

Perhaps, if she hadn’t been so timid in the shrine, he’d speak the words of love and affection she longs to hear. She knew he’d been upset that day, seeing her with the secret stone. She could practically hear his racing heart, matching the astounded look on his face.

She doesn’t know why she felt so guilty and hid the stone away, as if that would make him instantly forget. Surely, he understands her need to connect with Rauru and Sonia, who’d been like parents to her. Her heartbeat had quickened when instead of scolding her, the fear in his eyes had melted into desire. Zelda knows that look well, but she’d turned away the other day, like a silly schoolgirl. 

Link clears his throat and Zelda realizes her mind has wandered and she’s staring at him. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his cheeks redden. Shifting his feet, he continues:

“As you know, Hudson is planning a celebration for Mattison.” Link places the small pile of missives on her desk. “He suggested we invite some of our friends. It’s been a while since we’ve seen them… I’d like us to consider it.”

Us. It’s the second time he’s referred to them as a couple. How long are they going to dance around the subject of where they stand with each other? Squashing the disappointment welling inside her that he hasn’t come to discuss their relationship, Zelda looks down at the stack he’s set in the middle of her desk. He’s written short notes and left room for her to add her own or at least sign her name. She swallows, looking at his messy scrawl, knowing how difficult writing is for him now with his restored, but weakened right arm. 

Zelda sniffs. If she isn’t ready to fully open up to him, how can she expect him to? He has his own struggles to overcome and yet, she knows his sole focus since she’s returned has been to make sure she has what she needs to recover. 

She looks up to find the worry line between his brows has deepened, and he’s shoved his hands in his pockets. “Is it too soon, Zelda?”

He always defers to her wishes. He never asks anything of her. What does it mean that he’s asking now? Aside from Purah, they’re really his friends, Zelda’s merely by association. Her stomach knots with tension. He’s telling her without using the words, that he misses them. Purah confided in Zelda before they departed Lookout Landing, that Link kept all the sages active. Since his friends couldn’t be with him all the time, having their spirits at his side while he scoured the kingdom looking for her was the only thing that kept him going. 

Guilt washes over her that she’s kept him from them. Has it been so long she’s forgotten she’ll do anything for him—in a heartbeat?

To answer his question, Zelda pulls the quill from the inkpot on her desk and writes a brief note before signing her name next to Link’s.

Chapter Text

Star and Epona’s whickers underscore the faint ‘thwack’ of metal on wood. Rising from where she tends their small, rooftop garden, Zelda brushes her dirt-covered hands absently over her trousers before leaning against the railing to observe Link practice swordplay on a wooden mannequin behind the house. He dances gracefully around the stationary opponent, moving with an ease and precision ingrained in his muscles from countless battles, despite his fragmented memories. As he spins and lunges, the dim twilight the glowing blue sword leaves a faint, ethereal trail in its wake.

It’s become their evening ritual since settling in here for Zelda to work in the garden while Link spars during the ‘witching hour’, as Zelda’s chambermaids used to call the time between sunset and moonrise. It’s a time when the shadows grow long, the light is grey suffused with a faint golden glow, and magic hangs heavy in the air.

These moments harken back to a time long ago when Zelda was a powerless princess observing her appointed knight, all while thinking he held his destiny as firmly in his hands as the sword he wielded. However, she was just as wrong then as Zelda is now when Link falters coming out of a final turn and the sword’s hilt slips in his grasp, and glances off the dummy’s shoulder, sending wood chips flying. There’s no mistaking his frustrated growl as he lowers the sword, balefully eyeing the blade imbued with the ancient power of a goddess.

Glancing up, the hard look in his eyes softens when he sees Zelda gazing down at him. Sheathing the sword, he scales the side of the house as agile as a cat and joins her in the garden.

“There are stairs.” Zelda laughs, shaking her head at him when Link leans back against the railing beside her.

He rolls his right shoulder while gripping it with his left hand and grimaces sheepishly. “Probably should have used them.”

“Let me help.” She reaches over, gently places her palms against his shoulder, and calls upon her power. Her hands glow and she sends the warmth into his aching muscles. 

Link flinches and pulls away, averting his eyes to gaze over the sea. The air between them grows heavy as if a storm has suddenly stirred up out of nowhere. “Don’t… don’t waste any more of your power for me.”

Furrowing her brow, Zelda drops her hands to her sides. “I don’t think it’s a waste to help you.”

“I know you don’t.” Reaching behind him, Link pulls the sword from his back and lays it on the railing. “We’ve never talked much about… this… how it was returned to me repaired as if Hylia had just forged it… but I think I need to.”

Bowing his head, Link places his hands on the blade and Zelda is taken aback when a tear splashes on the exposed metal between his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut to stem their flow. “Do you know how difficult it was for me to pull this from the Light Dragon’s forehead? She writhed beneath my feet, Zelda, trying to buck me off, and I knew it must be agonizingly painful. Her anguished cries as I wrenched this cursed blade out of her skull haunt my dreams.”

Zelda sighs, her heart aching, and places her hand atop his. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t recall when I was a dragon.”

Link shakes his head and turns to look at her through the curtain of his hair, blue pain-filled eyes still shining with unshed tears. “Maybe not, but I saw the final tear memory and how painful the transformation was. I know you must remember that, and that’s nearly more than I can bear. This sword has never been enough to save you, and the sacrifices you’ve been forced to make because of my failures are too great.”

“Stop this! We’ve both suffered and sacrificed.” Zelda’s throat constricts, and she presses her lips tightly together. She can’t allow herself to cry. If she does, she knows Link will shove his own hurt and anguish down deep once more. It’s a blessing that he’s finally opening up to her. Once she feels in control, she places her hands on either side of his face and tucks his hair behind the delicate points of his ears to see his face clearly. 

His eyes widen in surprise at the sudden touch and Zelda sees the same longing for forgiveness in them she feels. She’d turned away the other day out of fear when he looked at her nearly the same way. Today, instead of speaking further, Zelda closes her eyes and crushes her lips against his. When she feels Link’s arms encircling her waist, she allows her tears to flow—their saltiness joining his and blending with the bittersweetness of a long-awaited kiss.

Chapter Text

When Zelda's lips meet Link’s, it feels like the sun bursting on the horizon, and soothing warmth spreads through his body. His arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. They kiss with a fervor that sends a shiver down his spine, and his knees tremble with the weight of his desire. Deepening the kiss, time seems to stand still as he loses himself in the intoxicating taste and touch of her. 

Zelda is pliant in his arms, pressing herself against him, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. Link feels like he’s been starving for this moment, and now that it’s happening, he doesn’t want it to end. After so much time apart, kissing her feels like the first time–foreign, new, and exciting. However, he can’t keep his mind from wondering if this is the best thing for them. Resuming the physical aspect of their relationship could complicate things. They still have unresolved issues, and have only begun to open up to one another again, building back the trust that’s been lost. 

As much as he wants to stay lost in her embrace, Link, reluctantly breaks the kiss, but keeps Zelda close, pressing his forward against hers. “I missed you so much.”

“I know. So did I.” Zelda’s voice is breathless, her fingers caressing the back of his head. “All I did was talk about you when we weren’t busy trying to defeat Ganondorf.”

At the mention of Ganon’s name, Link’s heart feels like it’s trying to claw its way out of his chest. Zelda stills her fingers in his hair when his shoulders tense and his arms stiffen about her. He releases her waist and takes a step back, feeling the magic of the moment dissipating. 

“I don’t know why I mentioned him,” Zelda whispers, dropping her hands to her sides.

Link takes several steadying breaths, trying to still his racing heart. He knows Zelda didn’t mean to bring up the man who’d been the root cause of all their misery and pain since the very beginning. Even though after Link smashed Ganondorf’s secret stone with the Master Sword and Link watched him implode in the atmosphere over Hyrule, how can they be certain he’s truly gone? They thought it was over when they sealed away the Calamity, but that had turned out to only be a temporary measure, while something even more horrendous still slumbered beneath the castle. Link realizes he has much more healing to do than he thought, and he isn’t certain his fear will ever be fully laid to rest. 

He looks at Zelda to find her face has crumpled, a deep worry line forming between beautiful green eyes reflecting a sudden sadness Link knows he’s put there. He reaches out a hand to gently cup her cheek. “It’s okay. I just need more time.”

“We both do.” Zelda closes her eyes, and places her hand over his, pressing her face into his palm. “I’ve caused you so much pain. I’m so sorry.”

Link knows they need to take it slow, and she may decide she can’t love him anymore, but he can’t let her think for a moment longer that he cares for her less now than he did before.  Pulling her into a tight embrace, he buries his face in her hair. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry, Zelda.”

Chapter Text

Even though he’s installed a prayer room at home, Link kneels before the goddess statue at the center of Tarrey Town. It’s a force of habit ingrained in him from his youth that has become as second nature as breathing, even if he’s long forgotten the why and wherefore. Zelda briefly wonders if she should do the same, but can’t quite bring herself to. The irony isn’t lost on her as she stands silently waiting for him to pray, just as he used to do every morning and night for her. 

Her mind wanders, trying to recall a time from before the Calamity when she observed him praying and can’t think of one instance. It’s something he kept from her then so she wouldn’t feel worse that he had a closer connection to Hylia than Zelda did. He’s different now than he was then. His memory loss has left him open and free in a way he never could or would allow himself to be before. He doesn’t remember things he kept hidden from her, and for that Zelda is grateful.

When he rises, Link brushes red clay off his tan trousers, but faint stains remain. He’s foregone his Champion’s tunic for the more practical Hylian garment he’s dyed forest green. Zelda thinks perhaps the color suits him just as well as the Champion teal. 

A cool breeze stirs the air, and Zelda pulls Link’s midnight blue cloak she wears over her travel clothes, closer to her. It smells of him and even though he’s at her side, adds an extra layer of security. An elderly couple stands nearby beneath a shelter, enjoying the pleasant morning. The woman smiles kindly over at them and Link offers a friendly wave in return, before taking Zelda’s hand.

He guides her to an oddly shaped outcropping of rock with statues of various monsters battling on display. 

“Kilton has a penchant for the monsters of Hyrule,” Link explains as they approach and an odd little, short, blue man, with an eager expression, emerges from the structure. “So, if Grantéson’s tip is true, he may have what we’re looking for.”

Kilton’s eyes practically light up with joy when he sees Link. “Link! Have you brought me a new picture?” 

“Not today, Kilton.” Link chuckles, and squeezes Zelda’s hand. “Rumor has it you have a new monster for sale.”

Zelda doesn’t think the man’s mouth can grow any wider, but his lips spread into a smile that stretches the span of his face. “I do! I do, but she’s a fearsome little beast, Link!”

“Surely nothing I can’t handle.” 

In answer, Kilton’s eyebrows rise to his hairline as he turns away to retrieve a wooden crate with holes along the side. A faint mewling can be heard from within, and he pauses, hands on the lid. “I must warn you, she has devil eyes that glow in the dark!” At the sound of Kilton’s voice, the meowing increases to a much louder, higher-pitch. Scowling, he taps on the crate’s top. “Quiet you!”

The crying ceases, and a small, white paw pokes out of one of the holes, batting at the air, before withdrawing. Crouching down, Zelda peers at where the paw had been and sees a glowing yellow eye gazing back at her. The meowing begins again in earnest.

Kilton covers his ears and rolls his eyes. “Oh, she makes a terrible noise!”

Link eyes the box, a mix of amusement and curiosity on his face. “Don’t be so dramatic, Kilton. Open the crate.”

“Okay, but remember, you asked for it.” Kilton shrugs before pulling off the lid, raising it like a shield in front of him and quickly jumping back several feet.

Even though she’s certain Kilton is being ridiculous, Zelda takes care as she peers over the side of the crate. She’s greeted with a soft Mew?’ from a small, fluffy white kitten with large ears sitting timidly in the corner of the enclosure. It stares up at her with round, golden eyes, and Zelda’s heart melts immediately. Without any hesitation, she scoops it up, feeling its tiny claws gently prick her skin when it begins nuzzling her chest.

Turning to Link, Zelda raises an eyebrow in question. With a nod and a tender smile, Link pulls a leather pouch off his belt and turns to Kilton.

“How much for your ‘fearsome beast', Kilton?”

Chapter Text

As Link and Zelda are finishing breakfast a few days later, Grantéson stops by on the way to his stall with a letter from Hudson, requesting Link’s assistance once more with the skating rink. She doesn’t miss the light that comes to Link’s eyes at the prospect of trying out Hudson’s improved invention, and Zelda insists she can handle things around the house while he’s gone.

Unlike the last few times he’s left her to her own devices, she has every intention of clearing away the breakfast, tidying up the kitchen, and tackling the laundry that’s piled up. After he leaves she sits at the table a few moments longer sipping her cooling tea and gazing out at the hazy horizon, where the deep blue of the Akkala Ocean meets the pale blue of the clear sky. It’s beautiful here, peaceful and quiet, but also lonely, and Zelda has to wonder why Link chose this location. She’s never thought to ask until today and is glad for the company of their latest addition.

Speaking of the devil, as Kilton would say, and recalling how the diminutive man had seemed genuinely frightened of the fuzzy, white kitten, Zelda ducks her head beneath the table to find her licking her mouth. 

“Has Link been feeding you bacon under the table again, Celeste?”

The kitten’s answering ‘chirrup’ is followed by her pouncing on Zelda’s bare toes, before scrambling up her leg, attempting to claw her way onto Zelda’s lap. 

“Ouch, Celeste!” Zelda giggles, plucking the kitten from her shin before Celeste’s tiny claws can pierce her skin and sets her on her lap. Rubbing the kitten roughly behind the ears, as Zelda and Link have discovered she likes, Celeste squeezes her eyes shut and lifts her chin to give Zelda better access.

“He’ll be back later,” Zelda assures. “In the meantime, let’s wash the dirty clothes.”

Pushing her chair back, Zelda carries Celeste upstairs to her bedroom and drops the kitten on top of the garments in her hamper. She carries it to Link’s room to collect the clothes from the basket in the corner. When she opens the lid, her breath catches, seeing his original Champion’s tunic balled up on top. Even though she made him a new one, he hasn’t been able to part with this one, and still wears it on occasion.

Zelda shakes out the threadbare garment, that after a century and everyday wear and tear, has seen better days. The color has faded to a pastel blue and the darns in the elbows can be seen. Holding it to her nose, Zelda breathes in the essence of him, a fine mix of sweet grass, leather, and wood smoke, and closes her eyes recalling their recent kiss in the garden. It had opened a floodgate of feelings that had been as exhilarating as they had been overwhelming. She now finds herself longing to pick up where they left off but knows Link is right to take things slowly.

With a reluctant sigh, she tosses it on top of Celeste, who growls her displeasure before jumping out of the basket. Adding the rest of Link’s clothes, Zelda hauls the now full and cumbersome basket downstairs and outside to the well.

While Zelda retrieves the washtub and soap from beside the paddock where the horses doze, Celeste dives into the basket once more to burrow in the clothes. Dragging the tub across the lawn, Zelda fills it with water from the well, pulls Celeste from the pile, and sorts the clothes into light and dark piles. The kitten slows down the process by continually pouncing in the basket, pulling out garments, swatting at Zelda as she tries to retrieve items, and making her laugh. Eventually, Zelda triumphs over the little beast and finishes sorting. She begins washing the clothes, scrubbing, wringing, and hanging them on the line. 

Soon enough she becomes immersed in the work, humming and contemplating what she could make for dinner if she has the energy. She’s just hanging the last pair of trousers when she hears Link calling her name before he appears around the corner of the house. Zelda peers over the line she’s pulled down to pin the waistband and beams at the bewildered look on his face.

“Surprised?”

“Very.” He walks over and kisses her temple, and Zelda feels a pleasant flush warm her cheeks at his touch. “This must have taken you all day.”

“I enjoyed it, actually.” It felt good to be contributing more and not simply existing. “Celeste helped.”

Link grins and Zelda’s heart flip-flops in her chest at the sight. Since their brief discussion and adopting Celeste, he’s been in better spirits.

“Where is she?” He looks around the washtub and in the empty basket.

“I’m not sure, I lost track of time,” Zelda admits, becoming worried.

“She’ll come when it’s dinner. I’ll feed the horses and then we can go inside, okay?” He heads to the paddock, where Star and Epona whinny greetings. Epona nudges his shoulder, and Link fondly rubs her nose. Zelda follows after him to retrieve the fresh water bucket.

Link is pulling the oats bag down from a shelf when he looks down. “What the…” Trailing off, he leaves the bag and crouches down. “Zelda, that’s my shirt.”

“What?” Zelda moves to stand behind him and begins giggling when she sees Celeste curled up on top of the Champion’s tunic. “Oh my!”

Shaking his head, Link reaches out to scratch Celeste behind the ears. She cracks her eyes open and begins purring, tiny paws kneading the pale blue fabric beneath her. “I guess this is a sign I need to let that old shirt go.”

Zelda kneels behind him, draping her arms over his chest to rest her chin on his shoulder. Her heart swells when he leans into her embrace and covers her hands with one of his own.

Chapter Text

Their newfound bliss is the balm Link has been longing for, and while he’s hopeful he and Zelda are back on a path that will bring them closer, they never finished the conversation they started the other day in the garden. He’s been hesitant to continue it and bring up the Secret Stones, but the thought that there are still six stones in existence that someone could abuse like Ganondorf weighs heavy.

While they’re washing up after dinner, Link summons the courage to broach the subject. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation about the Master Sword and how it was restored.”

Zelda pauses drying the dish she holds, and Link doesn’t miss the worry that flashes in her eyes before she blinks it away and looks at him. “Oh?”

Swallowing, Link hopes what he’s about to suggest will be another step toward healing and moving on. “When our friends visit, I would like to speak with them about gathering up all the remaining stones, destroying them with the sword, and then lay it to rest, once and for all. I can’t… I don’t want it to define who I am anymore. It has caused me nothing but grief.”

Zelda’s expression grows thoughtful and she presses her fingers against her throat where the stone would rest if she wore the choker. “I understand your feelings regarding the sword, but why would you want to destroy the stones? They’ve helped me and the new Champions hone our skills.”

“They’re dangerous. What if another madman tries to take them?” Link’s nerves ratchet up, and he clenches his fists, as his mind races to the possibility of someone attacking Zelda again. She’s powerful, but so had been Sonia, and Ganondorf still managed to kill her. The thought sends a chill trickling like ice down Link’s spine.

“All the more reason to keep them. You can seal the sword away and always retrieve it if we need it again. If we destroy the stones, they’ll be irretrievably lost.” Zelda’s voice is firm, breaking into Link’s waking nightmare, brooking no argument. She resumes drying the dish she holds signifying the conversation is over, but Link refuses to let it go that easily and dares to press further.

“I’m the only one who can use the sword. Ganondorf made it clear anyone with the will can possess those stones. If they’re destroyed they can’t be stolen or swallowed.” As soon as the words leave Link’s mouth, he wishes he could reel them back in. The sudden tension emanating from Zelda is nearly palpable. 

“You don’t trust me.” Her voice trembles with barely restrained anger, and two red splotches appear on her cheeks.

“That’s not what I meant.” Guilt surges over Link at her accusation, and his heart aches at the hurt look in her eyes. He trusts her more than anyone else in the world, but his fear of what can happen to her is too much to bear. “You’re misunderstanding me, you don’t need the stone, and neither do the new Champions to utilize your gifts. Just like I don’t need the Master Sword.”

Zelda’s eyes glaze over, still focusing on his previous statement and not hearing his reasoning. “You’re afraid I’ll swallow it again.”

“I’m afraid, but not of that.” Link takes the dish she’s clutching and sets it aside to hold her hands. Her knuckles crack when he clasps them too tightly,, but he carries on, not caring about the pleading note in his voice. “I’m afraid of losing you again. I’m tired of allowing ancient artifacts to dictate our fate. Let’s free ourselves from their grasp once and for all. Please, Zelda, consider it.”

Zelda lets out a shuddering breath and stares into a middle distance past his shoulder. When she finally speaks, it’s in a whisper and she can’t seem to look him in the eye. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Link’s heart sinks, and stomach twisting into a tight knot of disappointment, he drops her hands. He knows from experience by the closed look on Zelda’s face, that it’s pointless to press the matter further. Instead, he stiffly nods, trying to push down his deep dismay as they continue cleaning in an awkward silence. The clinking of dishes and the rustling of the cloth are the only sounds in the room. The weight of unspoken words hangs between them, and Link has no idea how to smooth things over. As much as he wishes he’d spoken more eloquently, he can’t take back what was said, and doesn’t want to. It’s what he wants, and has no idea what he’ll do if Zelda chooses the stones over him.

Chapter Text

Tension wafts from Link in waves, and when the washing up is finished, he mutters a half-hearted goodnight and heads for the stairs. With a concerned chirrup Celeste springs from the nest she’s made in Zelda’s embroidery basket to follow him. Zelda remains frozen at the sink, the cloth forgotten in her hands. Usually after supper, Link builds a fire and they sit by the hearth reading, or Zelda sews while he whittles or cleans his weapons if he’s gone hunting that day. Zelda’s heart clenches at the change in a routine, she realizes now has become comforting, and a pleasant way to end the day.

A chill falls upon her, and shivering, she drops the cloth on the counter to retrieve Link’s cloak from the hook by the front door. Pulling it close around her, she breathes in the scent of him before moving quietly toward the stairs. She doesn’t know why she’s tiptoeing, as if walking on eggshells when Link surely can’t hear her from his room. Zelda imagines him sitting on his bed, with Celeste in his lap, gently stroking her behind the ears.

Placing one foot on the bottom step, Zelda hesitates. What will she say to him if she rushes up the stairs to his room? His disappointment when she told him she needed to think about destroying the secret stones nearly cut her to her core, but what was there to think about? In her heart, she knows he’s right. The stones are dangerous, but all she can think is that at the time she thought he was accusing her of misusing the artifact. 

She can’t expect Link to understand that by possessing the secret stone, Zelda feels like she is somehow connected to Rauru and Sonia. Their ghosts may have faded away, but perhaps they still reside within the stone to guide her, like the sword's spirit guides Link. If she explains it to him that way…

Zelda shakes her head. No, he won’t understand because it’s very clear that Link intends to put the sword back on its pedestal and wash his hands of it once and for all. Zelda doesn’t think he will change his mind regarding that, no matter what she says. Worry churns in Zelda’s belly. What will happen to their relationship if she keeps the stone? Link is very understanding, but Zelda doubts he’ll forgive her any time soon, if ever, if she chooses the stone over his wishes.

Pattering at the window draws her attention as she moves away from the stairs, her heart aching. A squall has blown in from the sea, and she can see rain coming down in sheets outside. Far out over the ocean lighting flashes, but it’s too far away for it to be followed by the accompanying sound of thunder. It’s chillier in the drafty main room of their home and kneeling by the hearth, she takes the dull iron blade and flint from the tinder box. Her fingers tremble, either from the chill or Zelda’s fear she’s irrevocably ruined things with Link, and it takes several tries before she successfully lights the fire. 

Settling on a cushion, Zelda reaches for her embroidering basket and takes out a half-finished purple blouse she’s working on to replace the clothes she lost. It’s painstaking work that she once detested but now finds soothing. As she works, she mulls over Link’s fear of losing her again. That’s something she can relate to, and try as she will, Zelda can’t stop the memory of leaving him closer to death than to life in the Shrine of Resurrection. Or the fear that had surrounded her when she hadn’t known if he’d survived the fall into the chasm. That dread had only been assuaged when the broken Master Sword appeared on the alter in the Temple of Time, and Zelda had sensed his presence across the centuries that separated them.

A stab of pain brings her back to the moment and looking down, Zelda sees a bead of blood welling up on the pad of her index finger. Sticking it in her mouth, she tastes the sharp tang of iron. It’s tangible proof that she’s alive, as is Link. Miraculously, they’ve been given a third chance. Zelda will be very foolish if she throws it away.

Thunder booming loudly overhead pulls her from her indecision, and a startled whinny outside is followed by a flash of gold streaking past the windows. 

“Star!”

He’s always been skittish, running away at the slightest noise, but how did he get out? Zelda realizes in his distraction, Link has forgotten to close up the paddock for the night. His bedroom door crashes open and she hears his footsteps rushing down the stairs. She turns away from the window in time to see him strapping on his scabbard and quiver as he runs out the door into the stormy night.

Chapter Text

Link quickly equips Epona with her saddle and harness and swings into the saddle, spurring her on with a shouted “Yah!” that’s lost on the wind. Rain pelts them as he rides along the ridge, trying to see Star’s golden coat in the dark. It’s nearly impossible except when the lightning lights up the sky for a brief moment. Epona tosses her head when the thunder rumbles, but otherwise, she stays true to the course Link has set. With the next flash, Link curses when he thinks he sees gold far down the embankment toward the churning sea. Between the treacherous terrain and the monsters that roam the shore, he’ll be lucky if he can bring an unscathed Star back. Zelda will be heartbroken if her horse breaks his leg or worse.

Tugging the reins to the right, Link guides Epona down the steep slope, made more treacherous by the pouring rain. The fierce sea-salt-laden wind whips his hair, and his heart pounds in his chest, as Link squints into the gloom to determine if the golden glimmer on the shore is Star or a trick of the light. As they near the bottom, the crash of waves against the shore of Malin Bay underscores the roar of the wind. 

He brings Epona to a halt and pushing his rain-slicked hair back, searches for the elusive golden horse. He hears a faint high-pitched giggle moments before the wind hurls icy rain in his face and a wizzrobe appears hovering a few feet away. Yanking on the reins, Link urges Epona to trot away and circle around as he pulls his bow and a fire arrow from the quiver on his back. 

The snickering wizzrobe disappears and Link squints, trying to see the tell-tale puddles they leave as they prance in the air. Gripping the bow, he nocks the arrow and pulls back the line. The string is slippery in the rain and his arm trembles from the heavy draw. Link berates himself for failing to lower the tension to compensate for his weakened muscles. 

Manic laughter to his left, has Link swiveling in the saddle, and letting loose the arrow as the wizzrobe appears. He curses when the projectile misses their head by mere millimeters to fizzle out in the churning sea beyond. With a gleeful shout, the wizzrobe shoots jets of ice from their scepter in retaliation. Raising his bow arm to shield his body, Link jerks the reins to move Epona from the line of fire. Link hisses when sharp shards of ice tear at the sleeve of his tunic, leaving stinging slashes in their wake.

“Link!” 

Tulin barrels out of nowhere, a bright, white streak appearing in the night. He has his bow at the ready and pierces the surprised wizzrobe square in the head. With a shriek, it turns a purplish-black before disappearing with a faint poof.

“Ice shooting, buddy.” Link chuckles when Tulin grimaces at the terrible pun.

Tulin whips around in the air, and dives down, scooping up the glowing blue scepter the wizzrobe dropped. “Check this out!”

He waves the wand, leaving a frosty ice-blue circle in the air between them, and grinning through the center. Link marvels at Tulin’s youthful exuberance. He can’t recall a time he’d ever felt that way at Tulin’s age. After the unsuccessful conversation with Zelda and his failure to take down a wizzrobe, Link is more certain than ever it’s time to pass the torch or in this instance, scepter. 

“Princess Zelda’s worried about you. She told me you ran after Star?” Tulin flutters in the air beside him, rain streaming from his slick feathers. It’s difficult to tell in the dark night and rain, but Link thinks he might be as tall as him now. He’s growing up fast.

Putting his bow away, Link nods and clicks his tongue, spurring Epona to trot along the shore. “I think he’s down here. I was about to check when the wizzrobe ambushed me. You showed up just in time. Thanks for the assist.”

Tulin keeps pace with Epona and whistles softly for Star every now and then. As the wind begins to die down, Link thinks he can hear a whinny and searching ahead sees a faint glimpse of gold on an outcropping being battered by crashing waves.

“There!” He points and Tulin flies ahead to perch on a jagged boulder not far from a bedraggled Star. The horse whinnies mournfully as Link approaches.

Dismounting, Link takes a bridle from the saddle bag and traverses the slippery rocks. Star shies away at his approach, skittish from the stress of his flight and being trapped on the rocky outcropping.

Shushing softly, Link runs his hand along Star’s nose as he slips the bridle over his head. Once secure, he holds the lead firmly and leads Star to shore. It’s only when the strap is tied to Epona’s saddle and they’re heading back to the house does Link allows himself to let out a long breath. He doesn’t fully relax until they crest the hill and he sees Zelda standing in the doorway anxiously awaiting their return.

Chapter Text

Star’s escape and Tulin’s sudden arrival curtail any further discussion regarding the secret stones for the immediate future. Zelda still isn’t sure what she’ll say to Link, and is happy for the reprieve, especially when a knock on the door, reveals Riju standing on the other side. Beyond them, Riju’s entourage is already erecting a large, colorful tent that will be their quarters while they are in Akkala. Her guard, Buliara stands by the front stoop, spear in hand observing the operation and barking commands when the workers aren’t doing something to her satisfaction.

Riju throws herself at Zelda, her anklets and bracelets jingling pleasantly when she pulls Zelda in for a firm hug. “It’s so good to see you! Thank you for inviting us.”

Zelda doesn’t bother to correct her that it was Link’s initial idea, and smiles warmly at her friend when they part. “Of course. Please, come in. You must be tired from traveling. I’ll brew us some tea.”

Riju makes herself at home on a cushion by the table and gazes out the panoramic windows. “I’ve never been this far from Gerudo before. It’s so different out here — it feels wild and uninhabited.”

Aside from the garrison that had been stationed at the Citadel, there weren’t very many people in the past who made the region their home. Zelda has noted that the trend seems to be changing as travelers visiting Tarrey Town discover the beautiful, lush green countryside. 

“It’s a hidden gem.” Zelda sets the kettle over the cooking fire, and rifles in the cupboard for the tea tin and her delicate porcelain cherry blossom tea set she reserves for special occasions. 

“Indeed.” Riju turns away from the windows to watch Zelda work. “Where’s Link?”

“Oh, Tulin arrived yesterday, so Link took him out to show him the surrounding area and hunt. I imagine they’ll be back shortly.” Setting the tea set on a tray, Zelda sprinkles tea into the pot before removing the kettle from the heat and adding water. She carries it to the table and sits down before serving the tea.

Riju accepts the cup Zelda offers and plops several sugar cubes from the bowl in until Zelda is certain the sugar to tea ratio has dipped strongly in favor of the sweetener. Stirring it with a spoon, Riju takes a sip, lightly smacking her lips and declaring it delicious, before folding her arms on the table and leaning toward Zelda. “I’ve got a secret!”

“Oh, what’s that?” Riju’s excitement is infectious and Zelda smiles as she pours a splash of milk in her tea, forgoing any sugar.

Red lips curving into a big smile, Riju’s eyes brighten. “I’ve found my true love. Of course, Buliara doesn’t approve,”—Riju rolls her eyes—“but I don’t care what she thinks. My love’s name is Alaura, and she’s intelligent, strong and gorgeous. I don’t know how I ever managed before without her.”

True love. The words tumble over in Zelda’s mind. Riju makes it sound so simple and easy to be with the person she loves. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Eyes brightening, Riju’s smile widens. “She’s helping set up camp, but I’ll introduce you and Link to her later. Speaking of, how are you two doing?”

“We’re all right…” Her eyes flick to Riju’s earring and sees her amber stone sparkling innocuously in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Link said he wanted to speak to their friends about the stones, so… “Link has asked me to consider destroying the secret stones. He’s afraid of them falling into the wrong hands again.” 

“Hmmm.” Riju sets down her cup, and rests her chin on a closed fist, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “That is a troubling possibility, but you seem to disagree with him.”

“I am hesitant to take such a drastic action,” Zelda agrees, glad she decided to bring up the subject with Riju, and garner a third, perhaps more unbiased opinion. “Don’t you need it to utilize your gift fully?”

“No.” Riju reaches a hand to lightly finger the stone dangling from her ear. “Link is the one who helped hone and harness my gift. The stone merely allowed him to call upon my power when he was searching for you, and I wasn’t able to physically be by his side.”

Riju leans back on her cushion, her eyes thoughtful as she studies Zelda. “If it’s validation you’re looking for to help make the final decision, I agree that the risks outweigh any further benefit they offer. We didn’t need them before, and in the end, they aren’t what helped us defeat Ganondorf and his forces. It was teamwork, and that we have in spades, no?”

Zelda nods, realizing what Riju is saying is what Link had been trying to articulate yesterday. “When he suggested it, I shut down. I keep hoping I’ll sense Rauru or Sonia through the stone.”

Frowning, Riju’s brows pull together. “We’re in the land of the living, Zelda. The ghosts of the sages, Rauru and Sonia have done what was needed and hopefully, have found peace in the spirit realm.”

Riju’s words make Zelda pause, the rim of the cup at her lips, warm steam misting the skin beneath her nose. Her heart clenches in her chest, recalling the hurt look in Link’s eyes when she’d said she would have to think about it. Her consummate love for Link had initially unlocked her power, and now she realizes it was her filial love for Rauru and Sonia that had helped her hone it, not the stone. Love has always been at the core of her power. How could Zelda have forgotten that? 

Chapter Text

Laughter from the Gerudo soldiers and the savory smell of the red-tusked boar Link and Tulin had brought back from their hunt fills the evening air. Sitting on a stool, Link occasionally turns the spit, and fat drips off the crispy skin to sizzle in the crackling fire. 

He looks across the flames where Zelda sits, her journal in her lap, a forgotten self-inking quill dangling from her fingers while she stares blindly into the fire. He wonders what she’s been writing that has her lost in her thoughts. If they weren’t arguing, he knows she’d freely share what she’d recorded in her diary with him if he inquired. It’s been a while since he’s seen her retreat into her mind like this, and he knows he’s to blame. 

Riju steps out of her tent holding the hand of a young Gerudo captain, named Alaura, who towers over her, and whom she’d introduced to Link earlier. Buliara follows close behind, a disapproving look on her face. No one will ever be good enough for Riju in her eyes. But it’s clear from the way Riju glows, that Alaura makes her happy, and she deserves that. 

Link sighs, it’s what he wants for himself and Zelda. He’s laid his soul bare to her, and there’s no taking back what he’s confessed as his deepest desire—to live a life with her, free from the burden of a past, present, and future that hinges on the whims of a fate carved on a long forgotten stone tablet. However, he wishes he’d waited to ask about the stones, or better yet, had written in his journal and left it out for Zelda to find. 

Since their friends’ arrival, he and Zelda haven’t had a chance to talk to air things out. Maybe that’s for the best since Link isn’t even sure what he’ll say. I’m sorry doesn’t seem good enough. Besides, it has become a running joke between the two of them the number of times they’ve said ‘I’m sorry ’ to each other. It’s lost all its meaning.

Spotting Zelda’s distant look, Riju nods firmly at Link before sitting on the bench beside Zelda. She playfully tugs the quill from Zelda’s fingers, tickling her beneath the chin with the feather, and drawing her out of her reverie. When Zelda’s eyes focus they alight on him, and a pensive smile graces her lips. The firelight flickers over her face, highlighting her cheeks, and casting her eyes in shadow. Melancholy hangs in the air between them, and Link wonders at the smile and what it means. 

“When’s that boar going to be done, Link? I’m starving!” Tulin flutters down from the rooftop garden with a muslin bag filled with Hyrule herbs, hearty radishes, tomatoes, and Hylian mushrooms.

“By the time you make the salad, buddy.” Link reaches over to ruffle the feathers at the back of Tulin’s head. 

Tulin bats Link’s hand away. “Hey! Cut that out! Fine, I guess I have to do everything for this meal! Kill the boar, harvest the vegetables, and make a salad! Anything else you need, Your Highness?” The grin on his face gives away his delight at being made useful.

“Bring the wine when you come back.” A glass of Mellie’s aged plum wine will take a bit of the edge off Link’s nerves.

When  Tulin returns with a large wooden bowl filled with salad and a crate containing six bottles of wine cushioned by straw, the boar is ready. Link is happy for the distraction of carving meat and serving it to their guests. When Tulin takes his nearly overflowing plate to sit by Buliara, Riju, and Alaura, Link realizes Zelda is no longer sitting on the bench, nor has she come by to partake of the food and wine. Scanning the small clusters of Gerudo soldiers, she is nowhere in plain sight. Laying the carving knife on his stool, Link wipes his hands on a rag and shoves it into his pocket. Perhaps the crowd has overwhelmed her and she’s retreated to the house for a break.

His stomach rumbles, but his concern to ensure Zelda is safe overrides the urge to eat. Link heads to the front of the house, and just as he’s coming around the corner, Zelda steps out the front door.

Link slows his momentum, stopping a few feet from the stoop. Zelda clasps both hands in front of her, a nervous habit she’s had since he’s known her. A way to protect herself when she fears recrimination is imminent. Usually from her long-dead father, Rhoam. Link cringes, hating that he’s the one who’s drawn that mannerism from her.

“Can we… talk?” Her voice shakes, the dying rays of the setting sun glinting off unshed tears that shimmer in her eyes. In any state, she’ll always be beautiful to him. 

Can they talk? Yes, of course, always. Even though they haven’t smoothed things over, having her here in front of him, her porcelain skin glowing ethereal in the silver moonlight, all Link wants to do is hold her, kiss her, love her.

He nods, and a glimmer of a smile graces her perfect lips.

Chapter Text

They sit on a grassy knoll, sharing a plate and eating in silence, working up to the conversation to come. The roasted boar meat cools and the tossed salad wilts in the moonlight sparkling like diamonds on the calm Akkala Sea. Link uncorks the wine, with a soft pop, and pours two glasses. 

Gazing over the sea, Zelda leans on one hand, legs tucked beneath her. It’s beautiful, the peacefulness only broken occasionally by the faint laughter of their guests drifting from the far side of the house. Her fingers brush against Link’s when he offers a wine glass, sparking her nerve endings. She meets his eyes, and Zelda finds herself breathless, drowning in deep pools of clear azure blue. 

She longs to kiss away the hurt that still lingers there, but instead, she blinks, breaking eye contact first. Link says nothing, simply resting his arm on a bent knee as he takes a sip of wine.

Sighing, Zelda wraps her hands around the cup, as if it contains a hot drink and not umeshu. Swirling the wine, she watches the whirlpool the movement causes, until she summons the courage to speak.

“I don’t like it when we argue.” Her voice comes out uncertain, breathier than she intends, and she glances at him to see if he’s heard.

His eyes are guarded when he answers. “I don’t either.”

Zelda lifts her glass to her lips, breathing in the sweetness of the plum wine mingling with the savory boar meat. She takes a sip, trying to gather her thoughts. Sitting here, alone with Link in a tranquil setting, would be romantic, if not for the tension that resonates between them. He drains his wine without further comment, and Zelda notes the bandage on his arm he allowed her to dress when he’d returned from retrieving Star. Tulin has confided in her that Link faltered, missing a shot that should have been easy. He’s tired, ready to step aside and let someone else take on the hero’s mantle.

They’re both older, exhausted… disillusioned. Zelda worries about the next chapter of their lives, but if one thing is certain, after her conversation with Riju–Link has always been all she ever truly needs or wants. 

“We thought after the Calamity we were done, and we were wrong. Do you really think if we destroy the stones and return the sword to its pedestal we can start over again?” Brows knitting together, she turns to face Link, seeking his reassurance. 

“I do,” he softly responds, reaching out to lightly trace over the worry line creasing her forehead, smoothing it away with his gentle touch. 

Zelda scalp prickles from the tender caress, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. Before he can pull his hand back, Zelda clasps it in her own, fingernails digging into his palm. “I want to believe that, but I can’t help feeling there’s still unfinished business waiting to crash down over us again.”

Her heart races when he shifts his hand, interlacing his fingers through her, eyes flashing determination in the moonlight. “As far as I’m concerned, the only unfinished business is us, Zelda. It’s time to save ourselves, once and for all.”

It’s the third time he’s referenced what they were and could still be if given the opportunity. Save themselves. The concept sounds foreign in her ears, but so enticing. Zelda wants to take that chance and run away with him, but fear holds her captive in its grip. 

“I’m afraid,” she confesses, tears welling up in her eyes. 

Releasing her hand, Link moves closer to wrap his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in. Without hesitation, Zelda leans into the embrace, taking comfort in his unwavering presence. Pressing her nose into his shirt, she breathes in the faint scent of washing soap and campfire. When he presses a tender kiss to the crown of her head, a lump forms in her throat. 

“So am I.” Link gently runs his hand up and down her arm, comforting, soothing, as she quietly sniffles.

Being courageous doesn’t mean you’re never afraid. He’d told her that once, a lifetime ago when they finally began opening up to one another. He always reads her so easily, even when Zelda isn’t sure herself what she needs or wants. This quiet, secluded haven he built before she even returned is a testament to that, as if he knew she’d need this solitude to find herself again.

“Why’d you choose this lonely place to build a home?”

His hand stills on her arm, and he doesn’t answer right away. When he finally speaks, his voice is husky, filled with emotion. “To be close to you. The Light Dragon knew when I’d found the last glyph. She altered her trajectory, dropping from the atmosphere to a level that could be reached—here, and she shed a final tear. After that I knew I could always find, and visit her everyday here, around sunrise.”

Zelda’s heart swells with his confession. She’s always known his love for her knows no bounds, but the thought that he’d spend the remainder of his days here, visiting a beast who had no recollection of that love nearly takes her breath away.

“Then it’s decided–we’ll destroy the stones, together with our friends.” She’ll do anything for him–take a Guardian’s deadly laser beam, swallow a stone, destroy artifacts to save him, to finally be with him and be free. And she knows even when he says he can’t do it again, he’d do the same for her, as many times as it takes.

Chapter Text

“Thanks again for the invite, Goro!” Yunobo slaps Link on the back, causing him to nearly lose his footing. Link grabs the railing and uses the round stopper Hudson attached to the front of the roller skates to steady himself.

Despite the chattering voices, laughter, and click-clack of wheels rolling around Hudon’s rink, Yunobo’s voice carries across the barn, turning heads.

“Glad you could make it, big guy.” The nickname rolls off Link’s tongue and stirs up faint memories of jovial, larger-than-life, Daruk, who always had a smile on his face and an encouraging word to share. It feels like his boisterous spirit would approve.

“Yes! My friends!” Sidon exclaims. “It’s been rejuvenating to see you all again and in good health!”

Link nods. Sidon and Yunobo have enough energy and enthusiasm between the two of them to go around. Shrieks from the center of the rink, draw his attention and he looks to where Mattison and her friends are holding hands and skating in circles. Tulin swoops back and forth over the rink, playfully nose-bombing the girls, causing them to squeal with laughter.

Past them, on the far side of the rink, he sees Zelda, surrounded by her friends, Riju, Purah, and Yona. Catching him staring, her emerald green eyes sparkle in the shimmering light cast by the brightbloom chandelier, and the radiant smile she gives him has Link’s heart skipping several beats. Ever since their talk, they’ve steadily been making their way closer to where they’d been while making plans to dispose of the secret stones in a respectful manner that will honor the long-dead first king and queen of Hyrule and their sages. Zelda wants to travel to the Sky Islands one final time and have a ceremony in the crumbling Temple of Time. As much as it will be painful for both of them to revisit that place, Link knows it’s the right thing to do.

“My friend! Are you still with us?” 

Blinking, Link looks up at the towering Sidon, whose eyes are filled with concern. “Sorry.”

Sidon nods, looking across the rink at the women. “Admiring the fair Princess Zelda, no doubt?”

The flush that tinges Link’s cheeks is all the answer he needs to give, and has Sidon chuckling, and clapping him on the back much as Yunobo had. Link fears he’s going to be black and blue by the end of the evening if they keep that up.

“How is the wooing coming along? Yona and I expect an invitation any day for your nuptials.”

Link grimaces, feeling the heat rising until his entire face is flaming. “Let’s get through your wedding first, Sidon. Besides, we’re taking it slow. We still have some things to work out.”

“What’s there to work out?” Yunobo’s asks, eyebrows rising to his hairline. There’s a loud crack when he snaps his fingers. “I know what you should do! Use a tried and true Goron line to sweep her off her feet, Goro!”

Link is sure whatever Yunobo is going to suggest will not work on Zelda, but he shrugs and against his better judgement, asks anyway, “Like what?”

“Roll over to her and ask ‘Are you a boulder?’” Yunobo’s grin turns conspiratorial. “When you have her attention, close with, ‘Cause you’re crushing me!’ Works every time!”

“She’s not a Goron, Yunobo.”

“Then, try this one, my friend! It charmed Yona instantly!” Sidon puffs out his chest, revealing sharp, white teeth when he smiles down at Link. “Say this to the princess–‘I’ve got a bucket of bright-eyed crabs!’”

Yunobo and Link exchange pained expressions, before blinking mutely at Sidon. His grins falters. “Yona assured me it was the most charming thing she’d ever heard.”

“There’s no accounting for taste, big brother.” Link grins impishly, before stepping onto the rink, leaving a flabbergasted Sidon and guffawing Yunobo behind. “I’ll be back.”

He makes a slow circuit of the rink, weaving in and out of the energetic children zooming by him, and chuckling at Tulin’s antics as he flies past, ruffling Link’s hair.

As Link passes by Hudson and his tall, red-heaaded wife, Rhondson, Hudson gives him two thumbs up. “My Mattison is over the moon with the Skate-a-Rama!”

Link smiles his approval for the improved rink name and changes course. Seeing his approach, Zelda excuses herself from her friends to meet him at the railing. Link coasts, using the stopper to gracefully stop in front of her. “Want to take a turn around the rink with me?”

“Maybe.” Zelda firmly holds the railing, rolling one foot and then the other behind her, testing her stability on the skates. “What were Sidon and Yunobo teasing you about?”

“Giving me questionable advice about what I should say to you.” Link offers her his hand, and skates backward, guiding her to the entrance to the rink. 

“Oh?” Zelda raises an eyebrow, lips curling into a smile Link hasn’t seen since before the Upheaval. The one that lights up her entire face. “What did they suggest?”

“Cheesy lines I told them I didn’t need.” Link gives her his mischievous smile.

Her cheeks pink prettily as she steps into the rink, gripping his hands tightly. “Are you sure about that, hero?” 

Link shakes his head, faint memories swirling in his mind of a younger, embittered Zelda throwing that title carelessly over her shoulder at him. “Haven’t heard that in a long while.”

She smiles coyly, but says no more, allowing him to effortlessly pull her around the rink. After a while, she moves her feet in time, skating on her own, but keeps a tight hold on his hands. Her shining eyes and bright smile tell Link not only does she like roller skating, she loves it.

Chapter Text

She’s lost count of the number of turns they’ve taken, and her legs tremble, her muscles unused to so much exertion. The warmth of Link’s hand pressed lightly against the small of her back, keeping her upright and balanced, sends pleasant tingles up her spine. Zelda leans further into him, allowing him to guide them slowly toward the exit. He knows without her saying that she’s growing weary.

The prolonged exposure to the sights, sounds, and smells of the skating rink is nearly sensory overload for Zelda. She hasn’t realized how accustomed to the peace of the lonely Akkala home she’s become. It’s a test of her skill to tune out the cacophony and focus on smaller things to stay centered. The way the brightbloom chandelier spins above their heads, sending sparkling dots of light dancing around the rink. The upbeat music of the small band in the corner. The smell of fresh-cut and sanded wood.

Purah perches on a railing, Purah Pad in hand, documenting the event and taking pictures. Sidon and Yona have pulled Capson aside and are no doubt asking if he’ll officiate their wedding, while in a corner of the rink, arms intertwined, Riju rests her head on Alaura’s shoulder. Buliara stands behind them, fists on her hips, eyes roving, looking for phantom interlopers.

Amidst the music and laughter, Tulin chases a recklessly rolling Yunobo around the outside of the rink, weaving in and out of startled bystanders, who jump out of their way.

When she and Link exit the rink, Zelda sits on a nearby bench to rest while Link procures refreshments. When he returns, he hands her a cup of cool spring water before kneeling to unlace his skates and hers. His bowed head, long lashes casting shadows across his cheeks harkens back to a time so long ago when she, surrounded by their dear friends, bequeathed the title of Champion upon him.

She doesn’t know why she called him ‘hero’ earlier, but he hadn’t seemed to mind. It had rolled off her tongue like an afterthought. Perhaps it was being in the presence of their new friends, conjuring up ghosts from the past.

“You’re more than a hero and Champion to me. You know this, yes?”

Link lifts unguarded, clear blue eyes that say more than words ever could. “I know.”

Zelda longs to kiss him, and wordlessly convey all he means to her, but Purah approaches them, brightly smiling.

“Let me take a picture of all the Champions to commemorate this festive event.” She waves their friends over. Zelda nods, even as sadness washes over her that the moment between her and Link has been lost.

Rising, Link offers her his hand. When she takes it, he gently presses his thumb against the top of her hand, grounding her in the moment. Riju lays her hand reassuringly on Zelda’s right shoulder, as Tulin flutters to stand at her side. Sidon claps his arm around Link’s shoulders, grinning broadly and Yunobo squeezes his bulky frame behind them all.

A sense of deja vu envelopes Zelda and she barely hears Purah order them to say ‘Hateno cheese!’ She musters up a smile in time for the flash and click from the Purah Pad.

“Check it! Not bad, if I say so myself!” Purah announces, turning the pad around so they can see the photo. “I’ll be sure you each receive a copy!”

Gazing upon the picture, Zelda feels her smile wan. It’s so similar to the one that hangs in their home in Hateno—Zelda and Link are surrounded by their long-dead friends, Urbosa, Mipha, Revali, and Daruk. Purah had taken that one, too, and this new photo is an eerie reminder.

The spirits of their fallen comrades from another lifetime, seem to linger in the shadows of the barn, giving Zelda a chill that causes gooseflesh to rise on her arms, and prickles the back of her neck.

The cacophony of emotion within her is becoming overwhelming, and Zelda’s looking forward to returning to the peacefulness that has been her life in Akkala with Link as her constant source of comfort and companionship. The quiet moments they’ve spent together have filled the void that has been within her since her return.

As their friends disperse, Zelda feels Link’s gaze lingering on her instead of the photograph. Twining his fingers through hers, he squeezes her hand. When she meets his gaze, his eyes crinkle with a smile and she sees her love reflected there, reaching to the depths of his soul.

Chapter Text

Zelda is quiet and reserved the days following their friends departure. From a brief conversation Link shared with her directly after Mattison’s party, before Zelda fell asleep, she confessed that enjoying a festive moment with their friends has triggered long slumbering grief for the previous Champions. It hadn’t helped matters when Link retrieved Mineru’s construct from his Purah Pad before Purah returned to Hateno and entrusted it to her, requesting she remove the secret stone without damaging the machinery. Mineru had fallen silent since they defeated Ganondorf, and Link assumes she’s moved on, but Zelda remains uncertain, claiming Mineru’s spirit would not leave without first saying farewell.

While they had a formal ceremony several years ago to commemorate their long departed friends, perhaps Zelda needs to recognize theirs’ and the ancient sages' sacrifices to save Hyrule. With that thought in mind, while Zelda naps, Link gathers the materials needed to construct floating lanterns. Celeste joins him in the rooftop garden, where he’s chosen to work, sprawling across the thin parchment that will comprise the sides of the lanterns, and soaking up the afternoon sun. 

He soon becomes lost in the work fashioning twelve simple lanterns out of bamboo and parchment. Once complete, he picks up an ink pot and brush, that he has to pry out from beneath Celeste’s paws, and with broad strokes, paints the names of the sages and Champions in shaky, but legible Hylian calligraphy. It doesn’t help that Celeste continually paws at the brush in his hand or tries to drink the dirty water he’s set aside to clean the brush.

Link’s just pushing her away for what feels like the thousandth time and lifting the twelfth lantern, debating whether or not to paint Rhoam’s name upon it when he hears a scuff followed by a stifled yawn behind him. Looking over his shoulder, his heart thuds loudly in his ears when he sees a tousle-headed Zelda wearing one of his soft work shirts that reveals a goodly amount of her bare legs, standing in the doorway, a questioning look in her green eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Time seems to come to a standstill as he takes in how breathtakingly beautiful she is. From her small toes curling against the warm wood of the deck to her flaxen hair reflecting the late afternoon sunshine, she’s perfection in the flesh. Celeste bats impatiently at the forgotten brush in Link’s hand, pulling it from between his fingers, and splattering ink on his trousers. Growling softly, the kitten pounces to gnaw at the pointed end. 

Zelda’s giggle draws Link from his trance. Heat courses through him and his cheeks flame when he realizes he’s still staring.

“I thought perhaps, you’d like to sail lanterns on Lake Akkala this evening, to honor our friends and mentors who’ve passed on?” Link belatedly answers.

Despite the tears that spring to Zelda’s eyes at his words, the corners of her pink lips turn up. “That sounds lovely, Link.” 

Stepping closer, she kneels to scoop Celeste into her arms. He nods, his chest tightening as she rises gracefully with Celeste pressed against her shoulder and heads back to her room. It’s good to see her returning to the vibrant woman she’d once been, and Link hopes the lanterns will help lift more of the melancholy that still befalls them on occasion.

After an early supper, they walk hand-in-hand down the road to the north end of Lake Akkala. The butte atop which Tarrey Town sits has all but disappeared in the growing darkness, and the lamps in the windows and torches on the streets twinkle like stars in the night sky.

Link sets the lanterns just above the waterline, having decided to leave the twelfth one plain, to commemorate all the souls that were lost in the battles waged against the Calamity and Upheaval. Zelda follows after him, placing candles in the cradles within and lighting them. Once completed, they send each one adrift, offering up silent prayers to the heavens. The lanterns’ glowing soft light is reflected in the smooth glassy surface of the black waters. Sitting side-by-side on the sandy shore, Link and Zelda watch them float serenely away. 

“I’m ready to pick our life back up in Hateno.” Zelda’s voice is barely audible over the lapping water, rustling leaves in the trees, and the restless crickets chirping in the long grass.

‘Our life’. The words kindle a long dormant longing in Link, fanning it into a roaring flame. Their shared life consisting of her students’ laughter in the morning, and lazy afternoons where Link dozed beneath the apple trees in the orchard while Zelda worked in her well study. Quiet evenings spent sitting on the embankment behind the paddock, listening to the soothing whickers of their horses, watching the sunset fireflies appear to dance amongst the trees. Reading by the fire for an hour or so before retiring to bed.

Looking over at Zelda, Link finds she’s studying him, a soft, shy smile gracing parted lips he yearns to kiss. Without a word he leans forward, gently cupping her face with trembling hands, and captures her lips with his.

Chapter Text

Link kisses Zelda, and it’s not just a kiss to chase away all their hurt and regret, like the one they shared on the rooftop garden. It’s a kiss that promises a new beginning, brighter and better than the one before. Zelda’s palms, pressing against the center of his chest, emit a heat he feels through the layers of his tunic, and the blackness behind his eyelids blooms red. He knows if he opens his eyes, her hands will be glowing bright. 

He doesn’t possess magic as she does, he can only relinquish to her the two things of his that have always been hers to take. He pours the essence of his being into the deepening kiss, offering her his heart and soul like a prayer. Letting her know that he’s hers, drinking in that she’s his when her hands slide through his hair.

Her delicate fingers, tugging on the long strands, send pleasant tingles rippling down his neck and spine. His hands slip from her face, to her shoulders, along the velvety soft skin of her arms, to her slender waist, pulling her closer. To be holding her in his arms is a dream he never wants to wake up from. He needs her as surely as he needs air to breathe. Without her he’s nothing but a nameless swordsman aimlessly walking the earth. She’s the sunshine of his days and the moonbeams and starlight of his nights. 

They are two sides of the same coin, destined to always be together–never truly parted even if separated by time and space. The taste of the wildberry crepes they had for dessert lingers on Zelda’s tongue and lips, testifying she’s here–human, alive and well. Link’s mind becomes a whirlwind of emotion–a deep-seated sense of love and affection for her that surpasses logical thought takes root. And this time he welcomes it without apprehension, taking the refuge her sweet lips and tender touch offer. She completes him as none other ever has or will. 

A soft breeze whispers through the trees and grass, rustling leaves, and carrying the promise of a gentle spring rain. Pressing one hand against the small of her back, his other slips though her silken locks, cupping the back of her head and stirring up the faint scent of her floral soap. 

It’s nearly sensory overload, leaving his head spinning and feeling as if he’s floating on air. She’s magic and light and all things beautiful and bright.

A tiny discontented sigh escapes Zelda’s swollen lips when Link forces himself to break away. Her hair is a halo of gossamer strands glowing in the moonlight, and her glittering veridian eyes look back at him with open adoration that steals Link’s breath away. She’s the lovliest thing Link has ever seen, and more precious to him than life itself. 

Resting his forehead against hers, their breath mingles enticingly, and Link opens himself, allowing his love for her to finally consume him. He tenderly traces the contours of her ear as he tucks a strand of hair behind the elegantly pointed tip. 

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispers, kissing the pulse point on her neck just below her jaw.

Her eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, leaving faint traces of the tears that cling to them. “Nor I, you.” Zelda’s soft breath in his ear reignites the flame of desire within him that’d been smothered for too long.

Link feels like he’s been given sustenance after nearly starving to death, and surely he’ll never have his fill. When she caresses his face, and pulls him closer, he gives in completely, and kisses her again.

Chapter Text

On their third day of traveling to Hateno, they stop at Dueling Peaks for the night. It’s Zelda’s least favorite stable, but it’s getting late, and Celeste’s plaintive meows have gradually increased to ear-splitting howls at being cooped up in her traveling basket.

While Link haggles with the owner, Tasseren, convincing him to allow Link to exchange his unused pony points for two Malanya horse hair beds, Zelda unlatches the lid. Celeste springs out, landing on all fours and hissing her displeasure before leaping onto a nearby haybale.

“Don’t go far!” Zelda calls after her, removing an overnight bag from Star’s saddle bag. 

Thanking the stablehand, Rensa, when he takes the horses’ reins and leads them to the barn, Zelda wanders to the edge of the stable perimeter. Beneath the canopy of a nearby stage, a musical troupe is setting up. A short roly-poly of a man directs them from his spot by an easel emblazoned with the name, Stable Trotters. Traveling musicians. That’s something new, Zelda doesn’t recall from before. She marvels that despite everything she and Link have been forced to endure, everyday life goes on. She supposes it’s a blessing that the common Hylian has no idea the cost of such freedom, to travel the roads of Hyrule unmolested by Guardians, monsters, or otherwise.

She moves as if in a trance further out onto the plain, following the deepening shadows of the night that encroach to cover Blatchery Plain and Ash Swamp. Zelda despises this place with every fiber of her being, but try as she might, she can’t seem to stop the tread of her feet. She leaves faint silvery footprints in the flattened, dew-drenched grass as she approaches an overgrown hill of crumbling rubble standing in the center of the swamp. When the squishing sound of her boots in the damp mud seeps through the sudden roaring in Zelda’s ears, she stops.

It was here, on a rainy night, one hundred plus years ago that Link was felled by a Guardian’s laser because she’d unlocked her power too late to save him and the other Champions. But the sword he’ll wield for just a short while longer had instructed her on how to save him. If Link’s correct, and Zelda dares to hope, it seems they’ve come full circle.

The swamp and surrounding area have long been cleared of the hulking remains of the Guardians that littered the area. They’ve been stripped of any valuable machinery and the strong, durable metal melted down to be repurposed into all manner of weapons–swords, lances, bows, and shields. 

She looks to the walls of Fort Hateno that have been repaired, and are now patrolled by several of the new guard that Link trained. Beyond is one of many army camps set up through all the regions of Hyrule, to protect and uphold the peace.

Zelda startles when arms wrap around her waist, until Link whispers in her ear. “What are you doing out here?”

Turning in his arms, her gaze locks onto his bright blue eyes. Otherwise, he’s silhouetted by the flickering flames from the stable beyond, and a soft breeze blows his hair to obscure his face. If not for his warm hands on her hips, Zelda would think he’s a ghost. To be sure, she catches the stray locks of hair with her fingers, tucks them securely behind his ears and presses her lips to his. They’re soft, pliable, and real, and return her kiss without hesitation. 

The faint strains of a waltz drift over the deserted plain, and when they break apart, Link takes her hands, placing one on his shoulder while keeping the other firmly in his grasp.

“Dance with me.”

“Dancing? Here?” Zelda shakes her head, taken aback. He can’t be serious, dancing upon the site where he’d died in her arms. Even after all the years, she can still feel the cold dampness of the swamp counterpointed by his warm blood seeping through her gown.

“It’s time to let it go, Zelda. All of our past failings and regrets.” Link presses his hand lightly against the small of her back, and begins guiding her in a languid circle there on that soggy, muddy plain.

Despite her misgivings, with each step, she feels a little more of her fear and remorse flutter away on the wings of a silent prayer.

Chapter Text

A delighted high-pitched squeal rings through the Hateno school yard when a little girl with two black pigtails quivering on top her head sees Zelda and Link appear at the gate.

“Professor Link!” Launching herself off the sunken balance wheels she wraps her tiny arms around his leg and holds on for dear life. 

It’s the best kind of hug from a toddler and with her vice-like grip there’s no shaking her off. Not that Link tries very hard. “Hi, Narah.”

“Professor Link?” 

Link pauses tousling Narah’s hair and his cheeks heat when he sees Zelda’s bemused expression. “Uh, I may have stepped in a time or two while you were gone.”

“Really?” She raises her left eyebrow, and studies him as if she’s seeing him in a whole new light. Link’s nervously rubbing the back of his neck before he can stop himself.

“Professor Link, tell that mean old grumpy pants, Professor Symin, Nebb and I are old enough to go to school!”

“Sorry, Narah, I must defer to Headmistress Zelda on that one.” Link extricates himself from Narah's clutches just as shouting prefaces Symin’s class pouring out the school door. When they see Link and Zelda standing in the school yard, the four students’ faces light up and they rush over to encircle her and batter her with questions:

“Professor Zelda! Where’ve you been?” “What did you bring us?” “Will you tell Professor Symin and Professor Link to stop giving us pop quizzes?” “I like the quizzes.” “Nobody asked you, Azu!”

Zelda’s laughter is bubbly, light, and her eyes dance with delight. “Please, one at a time.”

“Professor Zelda! We learned how to make monster curry!” Azu tugs on her hand, hopping up and down to garner her attention.

“And Professor Link told us all about the Princess and ancient Hero,” Aster informs her, and Karin chimes in, sighing, “He sounded like he was brave.”

Sefaro’s lips curl disdainfully, scoffing at the dreamy look in Karin’s hazel eyes. “Aw, the ancient hero sounded lame to me. I could’ve taken him, right, Professor Link?”

“Sure could, Sefaro.” Link looks over the students’ heads and mets Zelda’s glowing emerald eyes. 

“History and cooking? Will wonders never cease?” Zelda’s teasing smile matches her light-hearted tone.

Link returns her smile. She’s the wonder. As the children continue to pepper her with questions, Link steps back, giving Zelda space to enjoy this long overdue moment. She’s back where she belongs, surrounded by her adoring students. They drag her to a nearby tree and settle in the cool grass, looking expectantly at her. Zelda pulls gifts she brought them from her bag–monster figurines from Kilton’s and hands them out. 

“For my future students this fall.” Narah’s eyes shimmer with tears when Zelda gives her figurines for her and her brother, Nebb.

As the children are playing with their toys, Zelda leans against the tree, eyes sparkling with amusement as she listens to their animated chatter. No matter where she goes, she always touches the hearts of those around her with her warmth and kindness. Teaching and helping others grow is where she’s always shined the brightest. How carefree and happy she is compared to the sad girl from so long ago and the depressed woman from just a few months back. Link knows better than to think it will be all sunshine and roses for them, but he hopes they’ll have more good days than bad going forward.

Turning her attention away from her students, Zelda catches his eye and beckons him to join her. When he sits beside her, she takes his hand and leans against his arm, sighing contentedly, and speaks softly, her voice barely a whisper on the wind.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed this until now.”

“They adore you. And so do I.” Link gives her a tender kiss just behind her ear, that never fails to make Zelda scrunch up her shoulder. She covers her mouth, giggling softly behind her hand.

“Ewwww! Professor Link just kissed Headmistress Zelda.” Sefaro wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Did you two get married or something while you were away?”

Link shrugs in answer. Not yet, but if he’s learned anything over the course of events, he’s no longer going to wait for the perfect moment to present itself. He realizes as he sits beside the love of his life, every minute good or bad spent with her is a perfect moment.

Chapter Text

Not long after that blissful day in the schoolyard, Link asks Zelda to marry him. Sitting on the sandy shore of Hateno Bay, toes digging into the cold, wet sand, the blazing sun warming their blond heads, and having just broken apart from a kiss, he hands her a perfectly shaped scallop. Something flashes between the creamy pink shells, and her already racing heart from the heated kiss, picks up speed, as if heading to an unseen finish line. 

When Zelda carefully lifts the top shell, an exquisitely handcrafted ring of Zora silver and Gerudo gold filigree, dotted with tiny polished Rito sapphires and Goron diamonds cut to look like silent princess flowers sparkles in the sunlight.

Zelda tries and fails to swallow the sudden lump in her throat and blink away the tears springing to her eyes before giving it up as a lost cause. When she looks back at Link, he’s shifted to one knee and says simply:

“Marry me.”

Her ‘Yes’ comes out as a cracked, blubbery noise she barely understands, but the way Link smiles crookedly at her with shining blue eyes that match the glittering ocean before them, tells her he needs no translation. 

Plucking the ring from its case, he wordlessly slips it on her finger. It fits perfectly, and he tells her he commissioned the ring long ago when he’d taken his Zora armor to Yona to be repaired. When he explains that the gold, silver and gemstones came from the former Champions weapons, her heart breaks just a little. Not for herself, but for those dear friends from another time who never had the chance to love and be loved the way they so richly deserved. Zelda nods, feeling tears pricking her eyes once more. 

Link gently cups her face and wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“No, it’s beautiful… perfect, Link. I’m just… it’s just… we’re getting married.” Zelda can’t seem to get a handle on her emotions. They’re a swirling mass of happiness, sadness, fear, and excitement vying for dominance. The combination makes her lightheaded, as if she’s been drugged. She smiles widely, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She thinks she might look deranged.

“You’re practically speechless… and turning purple.” Link’s own cheeks are pink, reflecting her giddiness. He kisses her with smiling lips.

She covers his hands with hers, and happiness bubbles with her. Never in her wildest dreams since the first time they kissed had Zelda ever dared to think this day would ever come. If her father were still alive, would he give them his blessing? Zelda has no doubt Rauru and Sonia would be the first to announce the glad tidings. 

Link wraps an arm around her shoulders, and pulls her close. Resting her head on his shoulder, she holds her left hand out, focusing on the facets of the gems glittering in the bright afternoon sun. The familiar sensation of Link’s hand, gently running up and down her arm, along with the smell of the briny sea and the rhythmic crash of the waves soothes her chaotic thoughts and emotions. 

“I would have waited, but…” Link trails off, his hand absently continuing its course along her arm.

She hears the worry and concern in his voice and draws her arm back, wrapping it around his waist. The weight of the ring, connecting Zelda even further to Link, is comforting. Pushing the veil of any lingering fear and uncertainty aside, Zelda focuses on this precious moment. If they’ve learned anything through all the trials and tribulations that have been thrown at them they need to cherish the here and now they’ve been given. 

“I’ve never been happier in my life, truly, Link. I’m ready to leave our past behind us and focus on our future and rebuilding a better Hyrule together.” She turns her head, tilting her chin toward him. 

As their lips meet once more, Zelda’s eyes flutter close and she surrenders herself to the crashing tide of her emotions. She allows herself to be swept away, fully embracing every dream they’ve ever dared to hope for. 

One day in this quiet village, they will start a family. In the years to come, with Link by her side, Zelda is certain Hyrule will overcome its past and be on a path toward eternal peace and prosperity. They will share their incredible journey with their children and show them the beautiful home in Akkala where, despite all the odds, their love triumphed for the third and final time. 

Chapter Text

Zelda’s startled gasp when Mineru begins to fade from sight breaks Link’s heart. It’s clear she forged a deep bond with her ancestors, and if she deserves anything, she deserves to be loved and have someone besides him and Impa tell her how proud they are of her. He doesn’t have more time to reflect upon it, since it seems their friends must have had some meeting beforehand to recite a pledge of fealty to Zelda. Except, none of them seem to remember all of it and trail off one-by-one half-way through. It’s the thought that counts and if the way Zelda’s eyes are shimmering and she smiles the watery smile that always makes Link want to pull her into his arms and kiss the tears away is any indication, she’s been made verklempt by their effort.

A heavy crumbling sound behind Link draws his eye and he turns his head to see, with Mineru’s departure, the mechsuit has collapsed and lies in pieces. He’s surprised when his eyes burn at the sight, and he blinks several times. Even though Purah had successfully removed the secret stone, the machine had remained intact for the journey to the floating archipelago. It seems Mineru has truly passed on to the spirit realm. He catches Zelda’s eye and sees she’s come to the same conclusion–it’d been Mineru’s spirit, not the stone that held the machine together.

Nodding, Zelda steps to the altar, and Link does his best not to allow the vision of her standing in the exact same spot, wearing an ancient dress, holding her secret stone, while fear and determination play over her features as she debates what she’s about to do, consume him.

She catches his eyes and all he sees on her face is eager anticipation for what their future will bring. Today, she’s not alone, but flanked by Yunobo and Riju. Steadily holding her gaze, Link takes the Secret Stone from the construct Purah hands him and moves to stand between Tulin and Sidon. Once he’s in place Zelda places her stone in the center of the stone pedestal. They all follow suit until the six stones form a circle. 

“Today you made a vow to stand with me to bring forth an everlasting peace to the kingdom of Hyrule. I am honored to have you at my side, and together I know we can make a difference in the lives of our people.” Zelda takes a moment to look at each of them before resting her gaze upon Link. “This chapter is closing, and our final act will be to destroy the stones to ensure they can never be used for evil again, and to seal the Master Sword in this altar around which we stand.”

They’d spent many hours debating if this was the right choice, or if they should journey back to the Lost Woods to return the sword to its pedestal there. In the end, Zelda convinced Link the power emanating from the Temple of Time was just as sacred as that of the Great Deku Tree. It seemed fitting for the sword to be returned to a resting place that mirrors that of its origins described in the ancient texts that told of the first hero. 

Raising her hand, a soft golden light emanates from Zelda's fingertips and flows into the stones. As the stones begin to glow brighter, she sings the ancient melody Link had first heard her sing in the shrine. The light in the stones grows brighter and brighter and when it reaches the point that it's nearly blinding, Zelda nods to Link as she continues singing.

The Master Sword’s hum harmonizes with Zelda’s song when Link pulls it from his scabbard. Holding it aloft, the glowing blue blade pulses in time to the music. Even though he’s prepared for this moment and asked for it, Link hesitates. The sword has never spoken to him with words, but he has always had an innate sense of what it wanted him to do. He feels it’s power vibrating down his arm to his core, and he knows it’s ready to be laid to rest. A weight lifts from his shoulders as he grips the hilt with both hands and turns the blade to point toward the altar.

Locking eyes with Zelda he sees the same burden lifting from her as she pours her power into the stones and when she smiles he knows it’s time. Link plunges the blade between the glowing stones, fusing its power with Zelda’s. As the sword sinks into the pedestal, the stones shatter and absorb into the blade. 

They all shield their eyes from the blinding light that blooms around the sword as it seals itself in the stone. Zelda lowers her hands to her sides as her song comes to a close. The sword’s hum fades away along with the brilliant blue as it falls into a deep slumber. 

The sky has darkened to a deep indigo as the sun sank closer to the horizon during the ritual. Stars are appearing, dotting the heavens above with their twinkling light. Several streak through the atmosphere, blazing a trail. 

“Make a wish!” Purah’s chipper voice breaks the silence.

Link smiles. Zelda told him long ago falling stars aren’t stars at all, but pieces of debris from space, burning in the atmosphere. He knows Purah knows this, but she’s never been able to fully let her childlike wonder go.

He meets Zelda’s eyes, glowing brighter than any star, shooting or otherwise. The only wish he ever made over and over every time he chased a falling star has already come true.

--

Me, I’ll take her laughter and her tears

And make them all my souvenirs

For where she goes, I’ve got to be

The meaning of my life is she

She by Charles Aznavour and Herbert Kretzmer

Chapter Text

Zelda 

As Cece fusses over Zelda during her final fitting, Zelda knows she should be happy. In two days’ time, with all their dearest friends surrounding them, she and Link will be exchanging vows beneath the Unity Bell in Tarrey Town. She’s been yearning for this day for even longer than she’s realized. Zelda knows she wants nothing more in the world than to be with Link.

The fluttering she feels in her chest, like her heart can’t be contained and is trying to escape, should be because she can’t wait to see him waiting for her at the altar. Not because she’s terrified this is all a dream and she’s going to wake up and find herself either still battling the Calamity, or floating above Hyrule as a mindless dragon. She doesn’t remember the latter, but Link has told her enough to know that that might have been a fate worse than death if she’d never been able to return to him. 

For both of them.

He told her a bit, the rest she’s gleaned from his diary. There are no secrets between them, but there are some things neither of them can voice. When they try, their throats constrict and tears soon follow. Zelda never thought she’d see the day that Link cried. The first time she saw tears shimmering in his clear blue eyes, he’d turned away, embarrassed when he realized she’d seen how deep his vulnerability went. 

At least, where she’s concerned.

She wonders if they’ll ever fully be able to communicate everything they suffered when separated. For now, reading each other’s diaries will have to suffice.

In some ways, it’s more intimate to read the thoughts freely given to a blank page. There can be no misunderstanding when it’s there, plain as the day is long. And some of Link’s entries are so heartbreakingly long. But the broken man she pictures when she reads between the lines of the pages in his diary isn’t the man she wakes up to every day.  

She’s so in love with him it hurts—in a good way.

It’s just pre-wedding day jitters. That’s all. 

They can’t spend their lives worrying about potential regrets. If they’ve learned anything, it’s that they need to embrace the present and cherish each and every moment they’ve been given.

Zelda takes her own advice to focus on the present and turns on the pedestal to see the fit of her dress from the side. The bell sleeves drape elegantly along her forearms when she presses her hands against her belly. Taking a deep breath, she feels the empire-waisted bodice pinch around her chest and beneath her arms. Had it been this tight at the last fitting with CeCe? As she twists her torso, the beaded satin sash of her simple chiffon gown sparkles in the bright sunlight slanting through the window above a table strewn with bolts of colorful fabrics. 

Even her golden locks flowing just past her shoulders in loose waves seem to glow in the warm, yellow light. If Link saw her, he’d smile and tell her she looks like an angel. The anxiety twisting her belly into tight knots subsides when Zelda thinks about that smile and how he reserves it for her eyes only. 

“Someone’s put on a few pounds since the last fitting, I see,” CeCe tsks. Finger against her red painted lips and tilting her head to the side, she squints an eye. “What has that man been feeding you? Lasli!”

Cece’s strident voice chases the soothing image of Link’s smile away, scattering it like leaves in the wind. Lasli scurries out of the back room where she’d been adding the final touches to the bridesmaid garments, tailoring tape draped around her neck and a pin cushion strapped to her wrist. She appears as frazzled as Zelda feels.

Zelda tries to ignore CeCe’s insensitive comment and musters a weak smile. The designer doesn’t know the insecure thoughts that have been swirling in Zelda’s brain. Or that Zelda’s insomnia means she’s been getting up in the middle of the night and stealing down her well with a cup of hot cocoa to look over research notes or lesson plans. Until Link, hair tousled and sleepy eyed, climbs down the ladder to take her back to bed.

Their ‘shared’ bed. Perhaps that’s why she’s nervous. The wedding, for all intents and purposes, is merely a pesky formality, but what if Hylia decides she’s displeased they put the cart before the horse? Why does Zelda even care what Hylia thinks at this point in her life? Where was the goddess when she and Link were trapped in the pouring rain in the middle of Blatchery Field? Or when Ganon awoke and sent Gloom tearing through Link’s arm and Zelda plummeting to the past? Or when she’d had no recourse but to swallow the secret stone and Link was forced to wrench Hylia’s precious Master Sword out of the skull of the Light Dragon?

Zelda chokes, and the corners of her eyes sting with tears.

Link wouldn’t be happy if he knew she still sometimes harbors these thoughts. He wants so much to put them to rest and move on. But it’s always been easier for Link to let things roll off his shoulders and lock them away deep within the recesses of his mind. 

“Oh, darling!” CeCe once again breaks into Zelda’s thoughts. “I didn’t mean to make you cry! We’ll get you fixed up in a jiffy and your husband-to-be will think you are as lovely as a springtime rose. Don’t you worry!”

When Zelda glances in the gilded tri-fold mirror, Lasli gives her an encouraging smile around a mouthful of pins as she takes measurements. A blush creeps up her bare chest and spreads to her cheeks when Lasli delicately wraps the tape around her breasts and raises an eyebrow as she notates the new number. 

With a heavy sigh, Zelda raises her arms so Lasli can pin the dress along the seams where it will have to be let out. 

Link

Link’s nostrils burn every time he breathes as he waits inside the Kochi Dye Shop for Sayge to return with his and the groomsmen's wedding garments. The pungent odors of chemicals and the Goron spice his wife, Senna, used to season the curry simmering over the open fire hang thickly in the air. The back of the shop where Link waits is cluttered with bolts of fabric in every shade imaginable. 

Digging a fingernail into the soft wood of the counter, he notes it’s splattered with various colors. It reminds him of an abstract art piece Pikango showed him once, and it gives him an idea for an art lesson with the kids. When he and Zelda return in a few weeks’ time from their honeymoon.

After opening the boat race in Lurelin, Bolson had decided to repurpose the abandoned pirate ships into floating inns. He’d insisted on giving Link and Zelda a gift of a luxury suite on one. Their ship is set to depart from Malin Bay the day after the wedding and would sail down the coast, stopping at several ports of call along the way.

Their students had been disappointed when they had informed them a few days ago that they were going to be married in Akkala and would then be taking a vacation. It had broken Zelda’s heart when Karin and Aster had started crying at the news. He’d had to spend the remainder of the evening consoling her with the promise that the children still loved her. In the last week or so, she’s been overly emotional and high-strung. He can’t say he’s seen her in such an agitated state since she was a teenager trying to unlock her power.

She’s assured him numerous times that it’s simply nerves, not about marrying him, but that everything goes as planned. Link’s stomach twists tightly, trying to tie itself into a knotted pretzel. He’d be lying if he said he isn’t anxious, too. They’re two days away from officially becoming husband and wife, but as far as he’s concerned, they’ve been married in Hylia’s eyes for far longer. They’d lived as such before the Upheaval, and eventually again after. Having a ceremony officiated by Kapson beneath the Unity Bell with all their friends as witnesses is merely a formality.

Zelda had been surprised when he’d told her it was a common practice in Hateno for couples to test the waters, in a manner of speaking, before actually tying the knot. You don’t know you’re truly compatible until you share the same space. It tends to bring out a person’s true personality–eventually. 

Not that they didn’t already know. They’d been through enough for their true selves to have been revealed. High stress situations tend to bring out the worst in someone. So, they knew Zelda lashed out when she felt like her back was being pressed against a wall, and Link clammed up. That Link told terrible jokes that made her roll her eyes even as her laughter filled the air like windchimes dancing in the wind. That Zelda could make him flush red as a tomato with a mere look from beneath long lashes.

Living together hadn’t revealed anything new, except that once they moved in together, she’d ruined him for all eternity. He’d never be able to love anyone else. 

“Here we go!” Sayge appears from the back room, his arms draped with a pile of garments, with Sefaro close on his heels. He drops all but one onto his son’s outstretched arms before giving Link his full attention.

Link shakes off the reverie as Sayge holds up a traditional white linen tunic with loose sleeves. A pair of breeches the same color as the blue satin trim remain draped over his arm. 

Sefaro bounces on his toes, the groomsmen’s garments in his arms fluttering with the movement. He’d been sure to let Link know he’d helped his father with the silver embroidering on the tunic’s trim. Link doesn’t have a favorite among his students, but Sefaro reminds him the most of himself at that age - eager to please and prove himself. 

Sayge looks Link over with a practiced eye. “No need to try it on. I can tell just by looking at you that your measurements haven’t changed.”

Link’s grateful for that. He hadn’t relished the thought of standing still with his arms out to his sides while Sayge hems and haws over the fit of a tunic that is loose to begin with. 

Nodding, he inspects the outfits Sefaro is holding. When Link holds up a kerchief for Yunobo, his heart tightens in his chest. The scarf for Tulin causes his breath to lodge in the back of his throat. And sudden moisture, that threatens to turn into a deluge, springs to his eyes when he comes to the final garment, a sash for Sidon. 

Forcing out a heaving breath, he blinks the tears away, keenly aware that Sayge and Sefaro are eagerly watching him to assess his impression of the outfits they’ve labored over. Link tries to shove the images of his and Zelda’s long deceased friends wearing similar garments to the back of his mind, but their voices whisper in his ear all the same.

I only wish for you to be happy.

Way to go, little guy! 

Take care of my little bird for me.

Does the princess know what a fledgling you truly are?

Over time, the memories of them have turned bittersweet. Their friends' spirits live on in their hearts. Link has no doubt that wherever they may be, they’re still watching over them.

His heart unclenches and he manages a grateful smile. “These are perfect, Sayge, Sefaro. Thanks.” 

While Sayge wraps up the clothes, Link drifts to the door. Glancing down the lane, he notices there isn’t a soul outside Cece’s shop other than Sophia. He wonders if Zelda is still there or if she’s already headed home. He’s tempted to sneak a peek on his way past, but decides against it when Sayge hands him the thick parcel. While they don’t usually like surprises, Link doesn’t want to rob himself of the thrilling surge he’s certain will course through him when he sees Zelda approaching him to stand by his side beneath the Unity Bell.

Zelda

Sitting on the floor of their humble Hateno home, Zelda presses the back of her hand to her mouth. The nausea had struck swiftly and without warning, and she’d barely made it to the bucket, usually intended for mopping the hardwood floors, stored beneath the stairs. Their snow white cat, Celeste, sits halfway up the stairway and pokes her head between the railing slats to warily look down at Zelda. After she is sure her human isn’t dying, she resumes washing herself behind the ears.

Link, however, would be beside himself with worry for her, not caring about how her sickness could potentially postpone their happy day. If he were here. Thankfully, he'd left earlier to pick up the flower crowns Koko had crafted for them to wear during the ceremony. 

If this had been a Royal wedding held within the Temple of Time’s hallowed walls, the couple would wear circlets made of the finest gold, silver, and gemstones that were representative of the traditional floral wreaths the commoners wore. When they’d been planning the event, Link had presented her with crowns he’d commissioned along with her engagement ring. He’d been surprised, understandably so, when she informed him she didn’t want a formal wedding.

She loved their simple life in Hateno, teaching the children by day and holding each other by night. When she’d told him that, you would have thought she’d just given him the moon.

And here they are, preparing for such an event. One that will represent what she and Link have become since all of this had started over a century ago.

She no longer views him as her knight, and she no longer feels like a princess. When she expressed to him her preference for crowns made from real flowers, he hadn’t even batted an eye. He’d set aside the beautiful gold and diamond circlet for her and the silver and sapphire one for him, and given her a tender kiss on the top of her head. 

But, if she’s sick, there isn’t going to be a simple wedding with flower crowns beneath the Unity Bell in Tarrey Town tomorrow. Her stomach roils, threatening another round of vomiting, and Zelda silently curses Hylia. This is not the time for her to come down with a stomach virus. 

Taking a deep breath, she steadies herself as another wave of nausea washes over her. Thankfully, she doesn’t feel as if she needs to retch again and slowly pushes herself up off the floor. She wipes her hand across her clammy brow as she takes a drink of water.

Perhaps Purah will have a remedy that will at least see Zelda through tomorrow. She’ll cross the unsteady bridge of taking the cruise later. She’s never suffered from seasickness in the past, so hopefully by the time they disembark, this bug will have run its course. 

Despite her stomach threatening mutiny, she somehow manages to make her way up the winding lane leading to the Hateno Research Lab without another incident. As soon as Purah opens the door, she takes one look at Zelda and pulls her into the musty lab. Usually the smell of old books, ink, and fresh parchment is like a soothing balm, but one whiff and Zelda’s churning stomach has her looking for the nearest wastebasket.

Eyes widening behind her over-sized red spectacles, Purah lunges for a crate filled with rusty Guardian parts and dumps it on the floor. They clang and clatter, a few bouncing about her as Zelda drops to her knees and vomits into the moldy crate.

“Oh, Princess! You don’t look so well!” Purah, always one to state the obvious, lowers her glasses to peer at Zelda over the rims.

Tears stream down Zelda’s cheeks, and she’s not sure if it’s from heaving up the meager contents of an empty stomach or her despair that their wedding is ruined. She weakly lifts her head to look at Purah. “Help?” 

“Well, first we have to figure out the cause, and then I’ll see what I can do.” 

Purah kicks the Guardian parts aside, sending them rolling beneath the long wooden table in the center of the lab. She pushes away a pile of parchment covered with schematics for a new and improved Purah pad to clear a space and gets to work.

Zelda gingerly sits on the stool beside her and, leaning her elbow on the table, rests her head in the palm of her hand. Purah takes her temperature, shines a light in her eyes, looks in her ears and up her nose, makes her say ‘ah’ while she aims the light at the back of Zelda’s throat, and checks her pulse. She even takes a lock of Zelda’s hair and rubs it between her thumb and forefinger, humming tunelessly as she cocks her head to the side, a thoughtful look on her face. How any of this is going to help Purah narrow down Zelda’s ailment is beyond her. 

Purah pulls her magnifying goggles down to cover her eyes and scans Zelda from head to toe, making her sit up to focus on her problematic stomach. While those pictures upload to the Purah pad sitting on the edge of the table, Purah pricks Zelda’s finger and squeezes a few drops of blood onto a microscope slide.

A concerned ‘hmmmm’ that turns into an inquisitive ‘oh snap?’ when Purah examines the slide underneath a microscope has Zelda’s mind running on overtime thinking of what could possibly cause those reactions. When the Purah pad pings, signaling the pictures are stored in the compendium, Purah snatches it up. Rapidly flicking her finger over the screen, she pulls up the photos. Her fine white eyebrows rise up her forehead to meet her hairline. 

“It’s just as I suspected! Check it!” She flips the device around so Zelda can see the screen.

If she hadn’t already been feeling faint, what Zelda sees there would certainly have done the trick. Oh, how is she ever going to break the news to Link?

Link 

Koko gives Link the sternest look he’s ever seen, and he’s seen plenty of those over the years–mostly from a princess who hadn’t been so fond of him once upon a time. He takes a few steps back when Koko waves a half-finished crown in his direction with her other hand, silent princess and blue nightshade petals scattering across the rough top of her stall.

Mouth puckering in disdain, she pokes a finger in Link’s chest. “Listen, mister! I told you they’d be ready at noon! Come back later!”

Link smothers a grin. ‘Mister’. When had he reached the ripe old age that anyone younger than him calls him that? Shading his eyes, he squints up at the sky. The sun is practically blazing straight down into the center of the village. His scalp tingles with the warmth of its rays. It’s noon, but there’s no arguing with a little girl. Especially one as strong-willed as Koko.

Giving her a nod of assent, Link turns away and catches Dorian’s eye where he stands guard at the bottom of Impa’s home. The older man gives him a sympathetic shrug. Link wishes he’d known Koko is behind schedule. Even with shadows beneath her eyes from another restless night of sleep, Zelda had looked especially beautiful that morning. The morning sun cresting Ebon Mountain had set her golden hair ablaze until she practically glowed brighter than any falling star. 

She’d rested her flaxen head on his shoulder as they sat by Firly Pond drinking their morning tea. If he closes his eyes, he can still smell the faint scent of apples that always clings to her hair. He could have lingered at home before traveling to Kakariko and enjoyed that peaceful moment with her for a little while longer. 

Zelda has made sure they follow every tradition and old wives’ tale that will ensure their marriage is a happy and long-lasting one. To that end, she insisted Link spend their last night at the inn in Akkala with his friends. The next time he’s supposed to see her is when she’s walking down Tarrey Town lane.

While he’s sitting by an open fire, looking up at the sky, drinking Goron ale and reminiscing with Sidon, Yunobo, and Tulin, she’ll be doing whatever women do when she gets together with Yona, Riju, and Paya. Zelda had mentioned something about hair washing, facials, manicures, and by the time she’d gotten to pedicures his eyes had glazed over. Link absently rubs his upper arm, where he still sports a yellowed bruise from when she punched him.

It’s the best battle wound he’s ever received.

The door to the Sheikah chief’s home whispers open, and Paya appears. She wears Impa’s wide-brimmed straw hat with the confidence of the leader she’s become. She’d been the first to tell Link what he’d known deep inside but had been hesitant to admit, thinking perhaps it was a false recollection—that he was in love with Zelda. Back when his memories were still scattered about like pieces to a puzzle. It took awhile, but eventually he’d gotten them all back in the proper place.

They’ve made plenty more since then. Good, bad, and those that encompass the daily routine of living and enjoying life. Those are his favorites, and the ones that will probably stay with him the longest, when he’s older and his memory starts to slip again. Doing all the little things they never were able to do when the weight of the world was bearing down on their shoulders. 

Lingering over rice balls and herbal tea watching the sunrise in all its glorious shades of pink, yellow, and purple break the horizon. Walking hand and hand through Hateno to the schoolhouse on the hill. Cooking dinner together and Link indulging Zelda’s penchant to experiment with the ingredients. There’s been more questionable, hardly edible meals than delicious ones, but watching her work through the creative process makes them all taste like the best thing he’s ever eaten.

He stops at the bottom of the long staircase as Paya descends, a gentle smile gracing her face. She’s always had a calm aura, even when she was a stuttering mess who could barely string three words together. When she reaches him, she sits on the bottom step, and Link joins her, resting his arms on his bent knees. A few chickens strut past, softly clucking as they watch Koko weaving flowers and greenery together in a tight braid.

“She’s started over numerous times.” Paya’s voice is barely a whisper on the wind, floating in the air like the cherry blossoms spiraling down from the trees surrounding the goddess pond across the way. “She wants them to be just right.”

Link watches Koko meticulously weaving the flowers, tongue poking out of her mouth as she stays laser focused on the task at hand. Her unwavering dedication reminds him of Zelda spending hours in her study pouring over ancient texts and tomes. Leaning back on the warm steps, Link closes his eyes, the image of Zelda’s bright green eyes filling his head. The echo of her voice regaling him with facts is like a sweet lullaby ringing in his ears.

Koko weaves royal blue and silver ribbons to fall elegantly down the back of one of the crowns as a final touch. When she’s done, she studies it from all angles before she’s satisfied and holds it up for Link to see. 

“Well, Mister?”

Koko has mastered the art of weaving flowers and ribbons in intricate patterns. The wreath she presents is as delicate and beautiful as its intended wearer. His heart quickens, and anticipation settles in the pit of his stomach, making itself at home imagining what Zelda will look like. A vision in white, with a wreath of her favorite flowers nestled in silken hair as fine as spun gold. He has no doubt she’ll look like a fairy princess, all magic and light.

Zelda

Standing amongst the vegetables and flowers in the rooftop garden of her and Link’s Akkala home, Zelda absent-mindedly runs her fingers through the ribbons of the flower crown Tulin had dropped off earlier. It’s an exquisite wreath. The silent princess and blue nightshade twine together so tightly amongst the lacey greenery, it’s difficult to tell where one flower ends and another begins. 

The merry voices of her friends carry from inside where they are readying themselves for the wedding. When they’d come out of the spare bedroom, Zelda had frozen in place, her breath catching in her throat. Riju’s royal blue wrap skirt and Yona’s sash draped elegantly across her figure called Zelda back to a time when she’d presented her dear departed friends with similar garments. Urbosa would be so proud of the leader Riju has become, and Yona carries a sweet disposition so similar to Mipha’s, Zelda has no doubt they’d have been fast friends.

Below, Epona and Star whinny as Grantéson outfits them with Royal harnesses and hitches them to the carriage waiting just outside the front door. In a few minutes they’ll make their way to Tarrey Town, where Link is waiting. Her one and only true love.

Zelda’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, and her stomach clenches, twisting itself into a knot so tight, she’s not certain it will ever come undone. Thankfully, Purah had been able to give her a potion that, as long as she takes it regularly, will curb the nausea. Zelda still feels a bit queasy, but she can’t tell if it’s her stomach still trying to rebel or the nervous energy swirling like a whirlpool deep within her. 

Today, they will be bound for all eternity in holy matrimony. 

Her heart quickens, hammering in her chest faster than a hummingbird’s wings. The thought of exchanging vows and publicly declaring their love fills her with a euphoria like she’s never felt before. She wants it and him more than life itself. And there’s so much in their future that’s going to bring them even more joy. Zelda can’t wait to share every moment life brings, whether good or bad, with him.

With the thought comes the first faint chime of the bronze Unity Bell being rung in Tarrey Town, signaling the start of her and Link’s momentous occasion. 

“Zelda, it’s time.” Paya’s voice, soft as silk, is followed by a warm hand gently coming to rest against Zelda’s shoulder.

Zelda takes one more look out at the vast ocean that spreads as far as the eye can see before she turns to face her friend. Paya’s waist is wrapped with a royal blue obi, and she’s pulled her white hair into a loose bun. A single tear drops down Zelda’s cheek, and she brushes it away with a knuckle. Paya looks so much like Impa had a century ago, Zelda sniffles and can only manage a watery smile.

Nodding in understanding, Paya gestures to the flower crown Zelda still holds in her hands. “Let me.” 

She nestles it in Zelda’s hair, arranging the ribbons to flutter freely among the tresses. Zelda has left them to fall naturally around her face and shoulders, the way Link likes it best.

By the time they reach the carriage and Grantéson helps her inside, Zelda’s whole body is trembling like a leaf. Riju takes the seat beside her, and without saying a word, clasps her hand, offering reassurance. As the carriage gets under way, Zelda closes her eyes and allows the rocking of the wheels over the uneven path to calm her jangled nerves. As they approach Tarrey Town’s gate, a waltz, played by the Stable Trotters, carries on the wind to underscore the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses hooves.

Through the carriage window she sees Link standing beneath a canopy of vibrant flowers, and Zelda’s head swims. His golden skin and white tunic practically glow in the early afternoon light, and even from this distance, she can see his piercing blue eyes. The planes of his face are revealed by a blue ribbon neatly tying back his dark blond hair. He’s never looked more handsome, and the way her stomach flips and her heart races, she feels as if she’s seeing him for the first time.

There’s so much she wants and needs to tell him. Zelda longs to run down the path straight into his loving arms and bury her nose in his neck to breathe in his soothing woodsy scent. Link was, is, and always will be her rock that holds her steady through any storm.

Link

Link blinks in the bright sunlight when he steps outside, and as his eyes adjust he focuses on the small assembly gathered together. Impa sits at the front between Purah and Cado, and Link is certain he sees her wipe a tear from her eye as he walks by. Even though Bolson is sitting near the back, Link can hear the loud snort over the ringing bell when he blows his nose into a pink polka-dotted handkerchief.

The Stable Trotters begin to softly play a waltz as Link takes his place beneath a canopy of flowers. When he sees Epona and Star round the bend, towing a carriage, his stomach plummets practically to the tops of his boots, as if he’s just leaped off a cliff and unfurled his paraglider. He’s thankful his closest friends surround him. He can feel their positive energy, supporting him through this joyous occasion as much as they had through all the trials and tribulations they’ve faced in the past. 

As the carriage draws nearer, the sweet expectation swirling within him as he waits for Zelda is like a fine wine. But, as soon as she steps out of the carriage, that anticipation flares into a fire that burns so fiercely, he’s certain he’s going to burst into flames.  

The flowing white skirt of her simple wedding down billows about her legs, creating the illusion she’s walking on a cloud. Royal blue piping accenting the neckline of the modest but form fitting bodice draws the eye to exactly where CeCe intends, Zelda’s creamy skin and elegant neck. She’s arranged her hair the way he likes, and blue and silver ribbons and strands of her golden hair flutter behind her in the refreshing sea breeze. Her favorite flowers, woven into the crown she wears, glitter like stardust in the afternoon sunlight.

She’s never looked more radiant, and Link forgets how to breathe until Sidon places a hand on his shoulder. Link claps his mouth shut, his teeth clacking so loudly in his ears, surely all their friends gathered around the altar have heard it. He only has eyes for her, and can’t tear his gaze away as she steps closer at an agonizingly slow pace. It takes all his years of training to be a stoic knight to remain standing still as a statue.

Swaying, his head swims when she finally stops in front of him, a heady aromatic mix of floral and apple swirling around her. He takes her hands as much to steady himself as it is that he can’t bear another moment of not touching her. As soon as their fingertips touch, a thrill runs through him, setting his scalp to prickle beneath the flower crown and rooting him to the spot. 

“You’re beautiful.” His chest constricts as he speaks, and the words come out more breath than vocalization. He feels exactly as he’d felt the first time he ever saw her. She’d left him speechless then, and it’s only by the grace of Hylia he’s ever able to utter anything comprehensible in her presence.

A becoming flush graces her cheeks when she tells him the same, and she is far lovelier than any sunrise Link has ever witnessed. He falls into eyes as sparkling green as dewy grass, that glow with open adoration for him, while Kapson binds their clasped hands in a velvet soft ribbon. 

The bond of destiny the hands of fate thrust upon them had long become more than happenstance before this day. But the vows they speak weave in the air between them, and the simple silver rings they exchange forge a connection far more meaningful and long-lasting. The bell tolls once more, signaling the completion of the ceremony and the beginning of their official union as husband and wife. 

A thrill runs through Link when he tenderly caresses her face and Zelda slips her arms around his neck. The following kiss tastes of promise and a love that has and will stand the test of time. He savors the moment, barely aware of the flower petals raining down from the canopy above and the cheers and applause of their friends.

When they part, Zelda keeps her hands linked behind his head and leans in closer. Her breath ghosting along his cheek sends shivers down his spine. With her lips pressed close to his ear, she whispers, “We’re having a baby.”