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Confessions
When Link was struck by a Silver Lizalfo while defeating a monster camp, Zelda did not expect him to fall in battle.
Sure, he had lasted until every monster had been slayed, and still a little bit more, carrying on as if his body hadn’t been poisoned, so — when he fell from his horse, almost an hour later as they rode back to Hyrule Castle, Zelda thought he had fallen for good.
Her foot got stuck in the iron stirrups as she rushed to him; she only didn’t fall because the goddesses knew that two of them wounded would bring further disarray to their plans and prophecies. She stumbled toward him; he lay unconscious on the dirt, and she shook him desperately to awaken him.
He remained unconscious; though he still breathed and his heart still beat, Zelda panicked. They were in the middle of Faron Woods, having come from Spring of Courage, and there was no village, no stable near them — it was them and the wilderness, and she worried she wouldn’t be able to aid him in time.
She blinked her tears away — she couldn’t afford to mourn for his loss when his life was on her hands.
Forcing herself to think straight, she studied her surroundings while keeping a steady hand on him — she wanted him to know that she was there. There was a cave, not so far away, where they could find shelter; she knew what to do next.
Carrying his limp, heavy body had not been easy; she was weak, not just of mind — as her father would often point out — but of body, too. She spent so much of her time dedicated to her praying that there wasn’t time for anything else; it seemed, too, that her praying had always been in vain.
She brought him into the cave, and lay his head over her pouch, hoping to bring him some comfort. He was feverish by then; she was sweating. She pulled his tunic, revealing the place where the venom had entered his body; it was green.
He startled her when his hand touched hers — he had slipped back into consciousness.
“Link!” she gasped, “You’re going to be okay.”
He tried to hold her arm; his grip was weak.
“I-I have read in some book — I can make you an antidote,” she stuttered, running her hands through his sweaty hair; she tried to convey calm in her eyes, but he wouldn’t stop looking at them. “I will fix you. Trust me?”
He gave her a firm nod seconds before his eyes went up his skull; he had fallen unconscious once more. She choked out a sob she didn’t know she was holding and pressed her forehead to his chest; she sent a silent prayer to the goddesses and set off to find the items to heal him.
Zelda raised his neck just enough so he’d drink the elixir; he coughed and choked on it, and she was resolute that he’d drink it to the last drop. Once he did — she laid his head on her lap, her back against the walls of the cave, and she waited.
There was nothing left to do but to wait and pray that her memory had remembered the proper ingredients. Though her anxiety sat at the pit of her stomach, she didn’t have the strength to envisage a life in which he didn’t survive; the world would be doomed if he died, but her heart would bear the biggest loss of it all.
As she waited, one or two teardrops would fall down onto him. She apologized every time, but he was sleeping, so he never forgave her for it.
He was sleeping — until he wasn’t, and she only learned he wasn’t when he uttered with his eyes closed —
“You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes widened, and she — she thought she was the one hallucinating, especially as she stared down at him and saw his expression perfectly still. She must have been imagining things, exhausting creeping on her, so she chose to ignore it altogether.
Link, however, wouldn’t.
“So tall. So beautiful.”
She stared at him some more — and a chuckle left her.
“You have a fever. You’re delirious.”
“You’re not tall?”
“You’re just remarkably short,” she placated, her thumb running gentle circles on his forehead. “Rest. You need to save your strength.”
He sighed ostensibly; she thought he went back to sleep.
“But you’re beautiful.”
She blushed.
“Link.”
“You’re not?!”
Redder than a rose.
“ Link ,” she warned him, “get some rest, please.”
Unlike anything she could have expected, he raised his hand, weak and lethargically, and tapped her nose.
“Boop.”
She was lucky the cave was dark, and that he was out of his mind, too, so he wouldn’t see the consternation on her face.
He left his finger there, and she didn’t have the heart to chasten him for it.
Never mind that she was the princess and he was just the knight designated to her — right?!
“Your nose is funny,” he said once he didn’t get any reaction from her, “so round, and soft.”
“You’re beside yourself, Link,” she told him. “It’s just a nose.”
“It’s your nose,” he said, “so it’s more special.”
“Excuse me?!”
“You know,” he brought his hand down at last, “because it’s yours.”
For her sake — she stopped rubbing his skin.
“It’s just a nose,” she reiterated.
“You’re just you,” he said and then crackled a laugh. “And you’re so beautiful.”
Damn him and his head on her lap — she wanted to run away.
“Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”
“ Link .”
“Has no one ever told you how beautiful you are?!” he asked, offended, and even tried to stand up — she had to hold him back. “That’s treasonable. High treason. The whole kingdom should be ashamed.”
Chewing on her cheeks, she tried to imagine she was anywhere else.
“Zelda.”
Her daydream didn’t take her far; his calling of her name, so indecorous for a knight of his rank, tied her to the reality she was trapped in.
“ Zelda .”
“Yes, Link?”
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, then made a face, “Huh—I don’t think I’m allowed to say that to you.”
Too late .
“You’re not,” she said strongly, hoping her reprimand would quieten him.
“Am I allowed to be lying on your lap?!”
She winced — he was right, the optics were not in her favor, but no one would walk into them in a dark cave in the middle of Faron Woods; she, however, had no choice but to fall victim to his unprompted flattering.
“You need to rest,” she defended herself, “it’s more effective to get some rest when you’re comfortable.”
He hummed.
“I am comfortable,” he conceded. “Don’t think I would be comfortable lying on the King’s lap, though.”
She chortled.
“I don’t think he would either.”
“Are you comfortable?”
Oh, it was a trap — wasn’t it?!
His eyes shot wide at her absence of a response, and he tried to roll off of her right away.
“No no no no,” he protested when she tried to keep him in place, “you’re not comfortable . You must always be comfortable—”
“Link, please—”
“I will not be the one to bring you down, not ever,” he insisted, twisting his body until he had fallen off her lap. “I won’t be able to live with myself otherwise.”
“Link—”
“Are you more comfortable now?”
With her hand on her forehead, she decided it was easier to go along with it.
“Yes.”
“Good. I like it when you’re comfortable. And happy. Comfortable and happy.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t like it when you’re sad.”
“Okay.”
“I think the goddesses should go fu—”
“Link,” she stopped him, “don’t say that.”
“Ok. I won’t. Because you asked me not to.”
“Thank you.”
“Zelda?”
“Yes, Link?”
“I’m getting really ‘eepy,” he muttered, “can we go to sleep?”
She wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night, for someone needed to keep watch — she wouldn’t tell him that, though.
“Yes, we can.”
“Okay,” he said, relieved, tossing and turning until he found a comfortable position — she only didn’t think it would be nestled next to her. Her heart beat fast inside of her, and, after minutes of silently pondering, she brought her hand back to his hair; he sighed contently — her touch seemed to have brought him ease. “Nighty night, Zelda. Love you.”
She heard his words all right, and her heart fluttered for the rest of the night.
When Link woke up the next day, his fever was gone, and the brave, stoic warrior came back.
He jumped the moment he opened his, confusion written all over his face. Next to him — Zelda had made breakfast.
“Morning, Link,” she greeted him with her usual grace, though — she kept her eyes at her meal, never daring to look at him. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Better?” he asked, his voice hoarse, “Was I ever feeling — worse?”
She frowned, and her curiosity won over her dignity — she looked up at him.
“You don’t remember…?”
“Remember… what?!”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, “you—you got stung by a Lizalfo. You fell from the horse and I brought you here for shelter while I made an elixir. How are you feeling?”
His eyes stayed unusually wide, like he didn’t believe any of that. Not because he didn’t trust her, but for he lacked the memories to sustain her claim.
“Link? How are you feeling?”
He offered her a nod, and she was content enough with that answer. In truth — she was relieved he didn’t remember; she wasn’t ready to unpack everything that he had revealed the night before.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?!”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “like that.”
She blinked blankly.
“I don’t remember anything since I defeated that monster camp,” he admitted, “Lizalfo’s poison can be deadly if not treated with haste.”
“I am aware,” she said, “breakfast?”
Awkwardly, he dragged his body closer to hers; her cooking skills were noxious, always had been, yet he took it without complaint, with a soft curve of a smile on his face.
Color drained from her face — he really was in love with her .
“What?”
“What?!”
“You’re staring again.”
She blushed and retreated to herself.
“Nothing, it’s… nothing.”
“Princess, did I — did I say or do something wrong? Something that might have offended or upset you?”
He sounded so genuine — her expression broke into a soft smile.
“No, you… you didn’t say anything wrong at all. On the contrary.”
She didn’t offer him anything further, and he respected her space, busying himself with her food without ever making a face. Zelda didn’t stop beaming until they arrived at Hyrule Castle again.