Work Text:
Ganondorf was the Vice-Lord of the Gerudo Fleet. He was militant by nature, but his hunger to defend his people was second only to the woman he called his leader. He told the council of assembled lords: “We must be rid of him immediately. One week he’s been here and he’s upset trade, put us at odds with pirates, and violated the code of conduct that we maintain with other fleets.”
Vice-Lord Mipha at her father’s elbow frowned. “You cannot blame him for being ignorant of our codes of conduct.”
Scathingly: “That’s if you believe his fairy tale of having fallen from the stars.”
Impa, Commander of the Fleets Collective, turned to the young woman at the side of the table calmly. “Zelda. You have interacted with him the most. Do you believe his tale?”
All eyes fell on Zelda.
She was yanked from her work this morning. She was underdressed, wearing oil and overalls, and the goggles around her neck smelled like a hasty breakfast. She lifted her chin. “His mech’s like nothing I’ve seen, ma’am. Captains. Not a dent on it, even after going at it with extreme prejudice. Nevermind the thing can fly: I’d like nothing more than to get a look under the hood and–”
Ganondorf interrupted, “Are we really going to trust the testimony of the girl with a hard on for machines?”
Zelda fired: “I work hard from the ground, sir. I know my work. I know that that boy’s mech is totally incongruous to every other relic from the past we’ve ever scrounged up, and even if he’s not from the stars he’s packing firepower the likes of which we've never seen."
Daruk grinned. “Ha. You heard the little lady.”
Zelda did not appreciate the epithet, but she appreciated the support. Ganondorf did not challenge her again.
Lord Dorephan frowned. “Do you believe he can be a threat?”
She frowned. “It’s no lie that he can do a lot of damage, captain. But there’s a difference between can and did.”
Impa chuckled. “He did punch a sizeable hole into the hangar wall while fleeing with you thrown over his shoulder as a hostage.”
Zelda looked to the side and blushed a little.
Urbosa nodded. “I think I’ve heard enough. I vote that we ally ourselves with this boy.”
Ganondorf folded his arms. “What’s your reasoning, Captain?”
“As the girl says: he could blow the entire ship to bits a dozen times over with his pretty mech, but he hasn’t. Means that we have something of value to him.” Her eye took on an excited gleam. “I wonder what it is.”
Daruk agreed, “Sounds like we should ask.”
Dorephan hummed, “And who would act as intermediary?”
Impa offered, “I believe it would be best to be approached by a face he already knows.”
All eyes fell on Zelda.
She stared at them. “What.”
-
Zelda was so annoyed.
It was true that she knew the language of the ancient world, but her mother taught it to her because it was impossible to figure out the coding and instructions without knowing the language. Damn if she could speak it though!
The first few days of trying to talk to the boy from the stars was just trading mispronounced words and searching for a lingua franca.
Zelda didn’t like wasting daylight speaking to him. He was preternaturally clean. His face was so flawless he didn’t seem real. His eyes were penetrating: she intellectually knew that he didn’t understand a word she was saying, yet it didn’t feel that way. She had work elsewhere to do.
She asked, “Are you hungry?”
The mechanical voice spoke over his low tones, “What is hungry?”
“I don’t know it in ancient language.” She patted her stomach. “Here. Empty?”
His eyes brightened in amusement. “Yes.”
“[Yes.] That’s what that means. [Yes, I am hungry.]”
Finally, the mechanical voice did not erase his: “Yes, I am hungry.”
Zelda was so annoyed. He was cute.
-
Three months later, Fi loudly chimed that perhaps Zelda was not good for his health, because his heart rate bumped up each time he saw her.
Link went red very thoroughly. Zelda stared at him.
She began to smile.
“Sh,” he told her.
“Did I say anything?”
“Sh!”
Zelda continued to smile at him as she approached. Link was annoyed his blush had yet receded. The day was hot enough.
Fi remarked, “Lieutenant. I suggest–”
Link muttered, “[Fi, hibernate.]”
“[Yes, Lieutenant.]”
Link flinched when Zelda dropped beside him, making herself a seat out of his side and floor. “Did you kick her out?”
Link stared ahead. “Revali taught me an expression: three is a crowd.”
Zelda laughed.
He watched her laugh. Her face was dirty from work again. In the beginning her dirtiness bothered him to no end. He could not pinpoint the exact day when he learned to find it endearing. Against every instinct, he swiped his thumb down her nose. It came away black.
She looked no cleaner.
She laughed at his expression of disgust. She laughed louder when he rubbed his thumb on her shirt.
Zelda said, “Can I look at Fi’s controls again?”
She waited as his console presented a translation of her spoken words. He answered stiltedly, “Okay. Why?”
“I find it interesting. The user interface is, well, it’s alien for lack of a better word. Beats me how you fly it.”
His pause was longer this time. His words were more stilted. “Fly with me?”
“What do you mean?”
He stood, pulled his suit over his arms, and offered her his hand. “Come with me.”
She took his hand and followed him to the head of his mech. He hopped in with easy grace, and her eyes lit up when the console came to life. Fi came back online automatically, but she had no more remarks about Link’s unsubtle affection.
Link made a come hither motion.
Zelda leaned into the cockpit. She was almost cheek to cheek with him. She stuck her hand through an immaterial display. “What does this mean?”
“Come in. Sit.”
“Huh? Huh? In the cockpit?” She looked at his spread legs. She doubted that he was being overfamiliar. From what little she overheard from his conversations with other men, he had no interest in–-or very likely no awareness of–-sexual courting.
She stood and said, “Okay,” but did not know where to put her feet. She misaveraged and fell, and Link caught her and settled her between his legs with her back to his chest.
“Okay?” he asked. She flinched. His voice was sweetest when it was a whisper.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Did I hurt you?”
“Mm-mm.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Revali says I am a clumsy ass too.”
“Hey! I am not! And stop taking cues from Revali!”
She heard the smile in his voice: “Ready?”
“For that?”
He readjusted his grip on the controls. In the next moment, the cockpit closed. For only a heartbeat they were in abject darkness. She was not afraid: but she was instantly aware of the heat and smell of Link behind her, the weird sensation of his pilot suit, his calm breathing, and she was annoyed that she was pinning too much value on their closeness.
She was ashamed. Intimacy did not carry the same connotation in his mind. Mind out of the gutter, Zelda!
Meanwhile, poor Link was struggling to figure out why he was inexorably pleased that Zelda was content to sit in his lap.
Light flickered on smoothly. Zelda gasped: the darkness was replaced with a total vision of the world. She could see the floor of the hangar, the open sky, the wall behind them, all at once.
“Link! This is amazing!”
Link smiled. “Repeat after me.”
“Alright?”
And he said something that she barely understood. Zelda repeated with imperfect intonation, and Fi replied, “[Secondary pilot accepted. Please hold. Scanning biometric data.]”
Zelda whispered, “What’s she doing?”
“Fi is, um, learning you. Necessary, to help you fly.”
Zelda gasped. “I can fly?!”
His head bobbed in a nod, and it was not only the graze of his hair and cheek on her ear that made her beam in joy.
Link pulled them out of the hangar. She did not protest. It seemed far more complex to take off than it was to maintain altitude. They flew above the fleet and the horizon had never looked farther than it did today. Link placed her hands on his and he swayed gently left, gently right.
“Good,” he said, and removed his hands. With nowhere else to put them, he mindlessly wrapped them around her waist. “Left. Right. Read the wind. Yes. Good, Zelda.”
Zelda gave up. She was sweet on him. She had a crush on this young man who was happy to grant her access to wanton destructive power. She could happily listen to him praise her all day, but the tutorial was cut short by the chief mechanic’s irate call:
“What the heck do you think you’re doing, Linky?! You’ve got half the fleet in conniptions! Are you taking off or what?”
Link grimaced. “[What is she on about?]”
Zelda whispered, “Did you get clearance to take off?”
“No.”
“Link–-”
“Too excited.”
Zelda blinked. Did he mean–
Purah blurted, “Wait– Zelda? Zelda, are you flying Link’s mech!?”
“...yes.”
“But, wait wait wait is he in the cockpit with you?”
Link shamelessly replied, “Yes.”
Purah huffed. After a moment, “You guys don’t need to elope, y’know. Half the fleet is in the betting pool on when you get together.”
“Purah!”
“I’ll fudge some documents that you’ve got permission to be in the air for an hour but just this once, y’hear me? We’ve got paperwork for a reason!”
“Yes.” Link bobbed his head. His lips briefly brushed Zelda’s shoulder. She shivered. “I understand. I am sorry. Thank you, Purah.”
Purah snorted. “I like him for you, Zelda. He’s polite.”
Zelda grit her teeth. “Get off my comms.”
“Ha! Have fun, you two.”
When they were alone, totally alone, even Fi was silent in deference for their privacy, Link admired the way Zelda intuitively got a handle of the controls. He asked, “I do not understand something Purah said.”
“Hm? What’s that?” She lowered their altitude. She raised their altitude. She was looking at a gauge and wondering what it referred to.
“What is an elope?”
The mysterious gauge immediately had less than half of her attention. “It’s when people run away to be married.”
“What’s married?”
She looked over her shoulder in shock. “Stars above, they did a number on you.”
He could only tilt his head in confusion.
“Do you have any sense of companionship? Kinship? Brothers in arms? Any form of love?”
“...I had a commander.”
“ That’s it? As a frame of reference that’s hardly anything!”
Link was quiet and kept his arms wrapped around her waist. It took a moment for her to recognize that he was hurt.
“Sorry.” She was so disappointed with herself. He asked for help, not to be judged. “Humans are social creatures. They need other people.”
“I can survive with Fi.”
“ Survive, sure. But you got a hell of a lot of crossed wires in that pretty head of yours and your socialization skills are better only than Revali’s.”
After a moment, “Sarcasm?”
“No, I’m being serious.”
He pouted.
“Having others depend on us and depending on others, pooling skills, resources, each other’s time and company and affection, these are the things that make life worth living. It’s not about duty. It’s not about being worth something to someone else.”
Link listened to her talk and watched her breathe.
“On a smaller scale, humans form attachments to individuals. These might be from family groups, like fathers and daughters, or friend groups like me and you. Some relationships are between people who are attracted to each other romantically. They engage in the ceremony of marriage so that others know they have become kin by choice, because they are in love with each other.”
Link was quiet.
“Do you understand?”
“Not really. Can I get your permission?”
“What? For what?”
He replied.
“I don’t know what that word means.”
And he could ask Fi, but he liked this privacy.
“You have my permission.”
He was surprised. “But. You don’t know…?”
She sighed in amusement. “Didn’t I just say you’re my friend? I trust you. Whatever it is, go for it.”
“Mm.” And so, he rest his chin on his shoulder and hugged her a bit more intentionally. “This okay?”
“It’s fine.” Her voice was tight.
“You are my friend.” He was overjoyed with the concept. “I am your friend.”
Zelda was not disappointed but if she was being honest with herself she had been expecting a kiss.
-
“What do you mean you’re not together?”
“He doesn’t know what a ‘together’ is.”
“Well get a move on, will you? Dinner is on Ganondorf’s tab for three months if the two of you get together before the solstice.”
“Auntie Urbosa did you bet on my love life?”
-
Revali didn’t get the chance to deliver one of his rare praises before Link had skipped out of his cockpit and booked it into the interior of the ship like his tail was on fire. To himself Revali remarked, “What the heck is going on with him?”
Fi reported, “The lieutenant has recently recovered an article of significance for Secondary Pilot Zelda,” like a snitch.
Revali muttered something about him finally finding his dick, and Daruk cheerfully slapped his back and called, “Aw, lay off the little guy. You know what your first love was like!”
Revali could not hear him over the sudden ominous clicking in his neck.
Link skidded to a halt at the entrance to the busy hangar. He dodged a fleeing Robbie, ducked Purah’s wrench meant for Robbie’s head, briefly helped Paya with something heavy, and found a seat in Zelda’s dirty workstation. She was beneath something. She was cussing voraciously.
“Zelda. I found you a–”
BONK! “Ow!”
“Oops. Your head. Anyway, I found you a–”
She pulled herself from beneath the something and shot him a murderous look. “Link!”
“Happy to see me?”
She blushed but sneered. “Maybe.”
He showed her the device. “Happy to see this?”
“YES!” She jumped to her feet. “You found it! How in the world did you find it? Where did you find it? Take me there right now!”
“Can’t. Whalesquid migration. Unsafe.”
“Never mind. I’ll take Fi myself–”
He grabbed her wrist. “Safe in three days.”
“Link!” She cuddled the device. “What am I supposed to do with myself for three whole days!?”
He shook her hand. “Happy to see me?”
She was very very bad at hiding her smile. “Not at all.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Sarcasm.”
“You’re getting better at this.”
-
Three days later, Fi careened away from the fleet at such speed that all spectators knew at once that it was not Link behind the wheel. She was a competent enough flier now that Link no longer flinched when she orchestrated a barrel roll, but he was quick to take the controls back from her if she talked about weapons systems.
They landed at the site of the ruins of an old world. The fleet would be here several days later to collect what the scouts had found. Meanwhile, a handful of men and women remained at the site to protect their stake. They visibly cheered up when Link’s mech returned.
Fi said: “Confirmed: no threats in area.”
Zelda said the right words to request a schematic. Her pronunciation was still boorish, but her vocabulary was deepening. She was a gifted analyst. Link said, “You would be good in the war.”
She frowned. “Can’t say that pleases me much.”
“Not compliment?”
“Maybe from where you’re from. But the more I heard about your war the more I think it’s a rat race. Fighting until you die? Fighting for fifteen years to get permission to get laid? No thanks.”
“Get laid?”
“Never mind.”
“Humans not born from eggs.”
“I said never mind!”
His arms were comfortable around her hips. He watched her apply her knowledge as an engineer to her new knowledge as a pilot and make fast preliminary work of identifying the relics of this ancient world. Zelda was impressed, but it all looked old and primitive to his eyes. He was bored quickly.
Zelda did not outwardly react when Link rest his head on her shoulder. “Jeez, you can sleep anywhere.”
“Not sleeping.” He shifted.
“Are you alright? I know between Revali and Impa you’ve been working like a dog.”
“Repair ship.”
“Sure but…”
“Don’t mind. Lots of free time.”
“Barely! You only get one day a week!”
“Mm-hm.”
Zelda abruptly had a lot of hate for the war that stripped her star boy of culture and leisure and life.
“I asked Daruk, what is marriage.”
“Oh?”
“Mm. He calls it…binding. Sharing life with someone. Trusting someone to support. Support each other forever.”
“Well–”
“Like me and Fi.”
Zelda threw her head back and laughed. “Actually, that’s pretty apt!”
“Why you are not married?”
“Me? Lack of interest, I suppose. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, but relationships take a lot of time and energy if you want to make it work.”
“Why?”
“Marriage isn’t simple. Folk who think it is got it wrong, my grannie would say that. It takes being vulnerable and being truthful and knowing yourself, heck, I’m the worst person to talk to about this seeing as I’m not married myself.”
“I want your opinion. You are the smartest person I know.”
“Ha! I’m flattered. More than Fi?”
“Fi is not a person.”
“Easy to forget that sometimes.” Was he lonely?
Link shifted again. She wished he wouldn’t. It was distracting to be reminded that she was not in a chair, but his lap.
They returned to the surface, again to the sound of cheers. The scouts had nothing to do: Mipha would be sure to whip them into shape when she caught wind of their lax behaviour. The wind would be kind for a few days longer, so there was no fear of rain and most slept under the stars.
Link thoughtlessly bound his resources to Zelda’s. He gave her his money–-“I don’t know how to trade.”--and took her food–-“You don’t know how to cook.”--and he lay down with her in the hammock as though it were habit.
The worst part was that Zelda could not be embarrassed. It all felt natural.
They were not teased for their closeness, not by the scouts and not by anyone from the fleet when they finally arrived. No-one looked in askance at Link working with Purah’s team rather than Revali’s, or Zelda wandering around Revali’s team rather than her own. Impa smiled when Zelda was caught cussing in Link’s foreign language and the way Link pinked in embarrassment at her fluency made Daruk outright laugh. Furtively, when he thought no-one was looking, the miserable Ganondorf slipped Urbosa a substantial amount of coins.
Mipha visited Zelda’s home to catch up and gossip and whispered, “I have noticed that Link has made himself at home.”
“Huh? You can tell? But the place is so clean.”
“Precisely.”
“Hey!”
Mipha giggled. “I am glad for your happiness, my friend. Love looks good on you.”
“Oh! Oh, it’s not like that.”
“Beg pardon?”
“I know that there is a betting pool on about when we’re getting together, but Link and I aren’t like that.”
“Betting pool? Zelda: the bet was resolved months ago.”
“What?”
“Yes, Urbosa won the pot. She predicted that you two would be together before the solstice.”
“Wha–but we’re not!”
Mipha shot her a doubtful look.
“We’re not!”
“My friend, you live together.”
“We’re cohabitants! And he had nowhere else to go!”
“You’re rarely seen apart–”
“Is it a crime to enjoy each other’s company?”
“And the way he looks at you–”
“He needs to read lips, he’s not used to words yet–”
“Come now, you’re just being obtuse.”
“Me! I think it’s on the rest of you to assume that just because I have a good relationship with my good friend then that means that we’re romantically entangled.”
“Well. Does he know that you’re not?”
“What?”
Abruptly they weren’t alone. The front door was open, so no-one heard Link come in nor how much he heard. He said, “Hi Mipha,” and put a bowl of fruit on the table between them and patted Zelda’s hair as he wandered off, but Zelda wondered why he looked so sad.
Zelda later asked, “Are you allowed to tell me about your primary pilot?”
Fi replied, “In the event that my primary pilot Lieutenant Link is incapable of performing his duties, Secondary Pilot Zelda will be designated as Primary Pilot and assume command. As of today, this protocol is unnecessary.”
“Not about duty, Fi. I’m talking about his health.”
“Quantitative data about my respective pilots is available to both pilots. By Lieutenant Link’s direction, Secondary Pilot Zelda is permitted to access this data.”
She blinked. “I am? But he and I didn’t even discuss it. Never mind. Can you tell me why he’s been so bummed lately?”
“Lieutenant Link’s emotional state is within parameters of a healthy operable soldier.”
“Sure, but he’s not within parameters of a happy person. Do you know the difference?”
“Secondary Pilot Zelda is permitted to make changes to my diagnostic software as required.”
“Stars above, do all secondary pilots have so much freedom?”
“Negative. These permissions were allowed by Lieutenant Link upon recognizing your status as his wife.”
“...are you joking, even the machine is shipping us?”
“Negative. Marital status of my pilots is not the result of independent conjecture. This information was issued by Lieutenant Link himself.”
Zelda fled.
She raced up stairs and past disgruntled workers and through sunbeams and rusted corridors. She did not know how she found him with her maladroit careening, maybe something about living together for several months told her more about him than she consciously recognized, but she did find him. He was sitting on a railing eating snacks.
He hid the snacks when he spotted her.
“How very rude! Give me some!”
He smiled and handed over the waxed cloth, but there wasn’t very much left. “Were you running?”
“Yeah. Yes. Water?”
He offered his. “Why?”
“I was looking for you.”
He frowned.
“No nothing’s wrong, you trigger happy squid.” She laughed. “Is it true that we’re married?”
He frowned more. “...yes?”
She laughed.
“Why…?”
“When did this happen? I was totally unaware!”
He finally looked horrified. “But we live together.”
“And?!”
“And we share resources.”
“You stealing my food and me stealing your money doesn’t sound like sharing, but carry on…”
“And Revali said married people sleep together.”
She snorted. “He’s not wrong, but that is not what we’ve been doing.”
“I don’t understand.”
Zelda grabbed his shoulders and kissed him. He clearly did not know what to do but he clearly did not dislike it. He flinched when her lips moved against his but relaxed just as quickly. And then she licked his bottom lip and he flinched again.
Perhaps she was overwhelming him.
She drew back. “Sorry, sorry. Overzealous, huh? I just got so excited. Haha!”
“What was that?”
“That, my love, was a kiss.”
Link’s skin and eyes were bright and good, and that’s how he should have been looking this entire time. She took his hands and squeezed them. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to notice, my love. I promise to do better. We should go on a date.”
“We didn’t go on a date yesterday?”
It was Zelda's turn to blush. Had she seen anyone else walking through the market arguing over produce and holding hands she might have assumed them a couple too.
“We should go on another one!”
“Okay.” Of course he wouldn’t complain.
She kissed his cheek. “You know what’s funny?”
“What’s funny?”
“What’s funny is that we’re going to have to tell everyone that the conditions of the bet hadn’t been met before now.”
“Oh.” He winced. “Poor Urbosa.”