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Chapter Text

The cold of the cell was so fierce that it might as well have been fire, burning Link’s skin every time he placed his hands against the bars. He paced back and forth across the stone floor, swinging his arms and rolling his shoulders in a vain attempt to bring heat back to his limbs. His breaths puffed out in ghostly vapors. His teeth clattered together so hard it felt like a drumbeat in his ears. 

“Link?”

Link clenched his eyes shut and stifled a groan. He didn’t want her to see him like this. 

He squared his shoulders and set his jaw, hoping to mask how miserable he felt. When the owner of the voice turned the corner and stopped outside of his cell, it took everything in him not to fall to his knees and weep. 

Princess Zelda stared across the bars at him, her green eyes wide with shock and pity. She was bundled in a fur cloak, her hair braided under the thick blue hood. She wore gloves on her hands and boots on her feet, and though her cheeks were flushed and her breath left her mouth in ghostly wisps, she seemed much warmer than he felt. 

Her hands curled around the icy bars of the cell. “You must be freezing in there!” she exclaimed. “Not even a blanket?” 

Link tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “Obviously they don’t think thieves deserve blankets.” 

Zelda’s fingers went to the tie that held her cloak around her neck. 

Link shook his head. “No, don’t do that. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” 

Zelda huffed in annoyance. “I’m the princess. The worst I will be is reprimanded.” 

“At least wait until you’re about to leave. I can’t stand to watch you freeze.” 

“And you think I can stand to watch you?” 

The thick cloak fell from her shoulders, exposing a long-sleeved dress that did look better suited to fend off the cold than Link’s threadbare tunic. She passed the cloak through the bars, and Link took it greedily. He wrapped it around himself and sighed as the warmth enveloped him. It still contained some of the heat of her body, and it smelled like her. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, stepping closer to the bars. 

Zelda nodded. “Of course. I’ve already written an appeal to my father to soften your sentence. Hopefully you’ll only have to spend a few more days here and get off with a warning.”

“Zel, you can’t do that. You can’t play favorites as the princess. You know the law better than I do. You know what the penalty is for stealing.” 

Zelda rolled her eyes. “You were hardly stealing. Plus, an investigation has officially revealed that the Duke of Necluda really was overtaxing the people and skimming some of the gold off the top. What you stole didn’t belong to him in the first place. He’s the real thief here.”

Link shot her a humorless smile. “And yet which of us was caught nicking the man’s purse?”

Zelda blew out a harsh breath through her nose. “Link, I could have helped you. If you had just told me—”

Link shook his head. “No. You have too much on your plate as it is. You didn’t need to shoulder my problems, too.” 

“But you’re my friend, Link. Friends are supposed to help each other.” 

Link pulled her cloak further around him and stared down at his feet. “I didn’t want you to pity me.”

Yet despite this, Zelda was staring at him with nothing other than pity. He had been down on his luck for months now, scraping by through performing odd jobs for Castle Town civilians, attending school just for the meals provided to the children. He was just trying to make ends meet until his sixteenth birthday, when he would be able to enlist in the royal guard, where food and housing would be included in the job. He couldn’t wait to have a full belly and a warm mattress to sleep on at night.

Now, his prospects had all been lost. Even if the news broke that the Duke of Necluda had been overtaxing his citizens, he was still powerful enough to be able to prosecute Link to the fullest extent of the law. Link would be sentenced to many years in prison or labor camp. Perhaps one or two of his fingers would be removed as penalty. He could kiss his dreams of becoming a royal knight – of spending more time in the company of Zelda – goodbye.

And all because of that small jangling purse on the duke’s hip. Because of the never-ceasing grumbling in his stomach. Because of his nimble fingers.

“There’s something I must ask you,” Zelda said, leaning closer to the bars.

Link leaned in as well, unable to resist the way she always drew him in. Even during the earliest years of their friendship, when they were simply two children attending the same school in Castle Town, he was drawn to her. He was the only child in his class brave enough to befriend the princess. She had been placed there for the purposes of socialization and had been removed promptly after the death of her mother, instead receiving her education through Sheikah tutors and priests of Hylia who emphasized the importance of strengthening her bloodline’s connection to the goddess. Still, they had remained in contact for years, always making time to see each other during the princess’s outings to Castle Town.

He could deny her nothing. 

“What do you want to ask?”

“The investigators could not find the money you stole from the Duke. Where did you put it? Did you hide it somewhere?”

The question sent a burning heat into Link’s cheeks. He looked to the side, to the bars in front of him, anywhere but Zelda’s face. How could he explain his rash, stupid decision?

“I gave it away,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You what?”

“There was a beggar on the street, just a few blocks away from the Duke’s parade route. I pitied him. I knew that I had the energy to provide food for myself, but he was old. He could hardly hold his head up. I gave the purse to him because he deserved it more than I did.”

Zelda reached through the bars and gripped onto Link’s arms. The contact sent bolts of lightning shooting across his skin. “Is that why you were caught? Because you stopped to give him the purse?”

Ashamed, Link nodded.

Gentle, gloved hands smoothed over his shoulders, soft and encouraging. It had been a long while since he’d been touched with so much affection. Not since his father had died, leaving him with nothing.

“You are too good for the state of this world,” Zelda said. Her voice was sad. “You deserve better than what the Duke will try to give you.”

Link curled his freezing hands over hers, holding her close. If only the bars didn’t separate them, he would have reached across and enfolded her in a tight hug. “You think too highly of me.”

Zelda shook her head. A tear was beginning to form in the corner of her eye, and Link reached to wipe it away. When his thumb made contact with her skin, she flinched. “Your hands are so cold.”

He tried to jerk his hand back, but she caught it in both of hers, bringing it to her lips. Her breath ghosted, warm and soothing, over his raw and cracked knuckles. Link leaned his forehead against the freezing bars.

“I will do my best to secure a pardon,” Zelda whispered to Link.

Link sighed. “It’s no use, Zelda. I’m as good as dead.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“I just wish I had kept my hands to myself. Maybe…maybe then I could have stayed on the course to become a royal knight.”

Behind Zelda, a booming voice called, “Princess! The time for visitation has ended. Please return to your guards.”

Zelda looked helplessly down the hall she had come from, then back to Link. “I have to go.”

Link had so many things he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her he was grateful to her. That he cared so much about her. That the memory of her face was the only thing keeping him going in this cell. 

That he loved her.

Instead, all he could muster was, “Goodbye.”

It happened so fast that Link wasn’t sure it was real. One second, Zelda was staring at him across the bars, tears spilling over her eyes and freezing on her ruddy cheeks. The next, she was reaching into the cell, seizing his face, and pulling his lips to hers.

She kissed him like this was goodbye, like this was the first and last time their lips would touch. Her fingers were strong and steady on his face, and though she was likely as inexperienced as he was, her mouth moved with a ferocity that displayed her desperation.

Before Link could gather his wits about him and kiss her back, she released him and stepped away from the cell.

“I’ll come to visit as often as I can,” she promised. Then, she dashed away, leaving him alone with only the impression of her lips against his and the comfort of her cloak upon his shoulders.

— — — 

The verdict came swiftly, just a few days later, despite Zelda’s attempts at an appeal. A public whipping, followed by five years of hard labor at a stone quarry in Necluda. Considering that death by hanging was a viable option, Link should have been grateful. 

But he could not bear the thought of Zelda witnessing his public humiliation. He could not bear to be made a slave under the thumb of the Duke.

There was… a passing fancy, one that tugged on his heartstrings as violently as it had the day he stole the Duke’s purse. One of the jail guards was especially keen on taunting the prisoners, and he foolishly let his keys hang on the outside of his belt. No doubt the sound of the jangling was meant to incite the prisoners’ fury, to remind them that he was the one who held their freedom.

It would be all too easy for Link to swipe them from his belt before his whipping was to take place.

But then…where would he go?

~ Five Years Later ~

 Link locked his legs around the thick tree branch, the rough bark scraping against his thighs through the thin fabric of his pants, and listed to the side until he was nearly hanging upside down. The arrow in his hand felt like an extension of his arm, melding seamlessly with the string of the bow as he pulled it taught. 

“It’s a stupid tournament,” he grunted. He licked his lips and narrowed his eyes, focusing his attention on the processional of soldiers making their way through the Minshi Woods, away from the military training camp. His hands remained steady as he breathed down the shaft of the arrow. Just one more second…

“The king announced that the winner would get the chance to court the princess!” the Korok Chio said, dancing down the bough of the tree. 

“What?” Link cried, just as he let his arrow fly. The projectile whizzed past the rope that was his true target and embedded itself in the flank of a chocolate brown horse. The horse whinnied and reared up, startling the captain that sat astride it. 

“Shit,” Link cursed, and he flipped from the bough of the tree, drawing the forest dweller’s spear that he kept strapped to his back. The soldiers were already preparing to flee, some of them scrambling to pull the deposed captain onto their own horse. “It’s the Lost Bandit!” they cried out, their faces gaunt with worry. 

“What about the medicines?” one of them called. 

“Leave it, or he’ll take everything we’ve got!”

Link was already starting toward the contingent, the spear gripped in his hands. He had to work to hide the smirk that threatened to bloom on his face. Had his reputation really earned him this much fear? 

By the time he broke the tree line, the fabric of his thick cloak whipping out behind him, the last of the soldiers had already galloped back down the path, leaving behind the injured horse still laden with heavy saddle bags. 

“Bokos,” he spat after them. He crouched before the horse and laid a hand across its flank. The arrow was embedded deep in the muscles. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to it, before dislodging the arrow. The answering screech left his ears ringing. 

“I wasn’t aiming for you, I swear,” he said soothingly, rubbing a hand over its heaving side as a few Koroks appeared from between the trees. Reaching into his pouch, he produced a tiny glass bottle, within which danced a tinkling fairy. It was his last fairy, but he couldn’t stand to see this creature suffer. And he hadn’t stolen a horse before. 

Link uncorked the bottle and let the fairy do its healing work while he began the process of sifting through the bags attached to the saddle. Like he thought, the vast majority of storage space was filled with elixirs. He smiled triumphantly. 

Then, he noticed Chio standing close by, and he remembered why his arrow had gone so errant in the first place. 

“You said the winner of the tournament would be given a chance to court the princess?” he asked, even as the horse’s wound slowly began to close up. 

Chio’s entire body trembled in excitement. “Oh, yes! The king opened the tournament for anyone to join!”

Link began the arduous process of trying to get the horse back to standing. The horse, though no longer injured, was not exactly keen to put pressure on its hind leg. “And this is the princess? Princess Zelda?”

A chorus of excited giggles answered him from all of the gathered Koroks. 

“You need to join the tournament!” one of them called, jumping up and down.

Link rolled his eyes as he finally coaxed the horse to his feet, now fully healed. “I can’t. I need to deliver these elixirs to the sick house in Kakariko. You know they can’t afford any healing tonics during the winter.” 

“But the princess—“

“The princess is a princess. I don’t stand a chance.”

“But you’re the best at—”

Link whirled toward the Koroks with unexpected rage. “It doesn’t matter what I’m best at!”

The little woodland creatures jumped back and huddled together, scared of the anger behind his eyes. Link’s shoulders immediately deflated. “I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s just…I don’t know what you think I’m going to be able to accomplish. I’m a wanted criminal, so the king would never let me court the princess even if I’m the best by a mile. And…I haven’t seen the princess in five years. I doubt she’d even care to see me.” Not after I abandoned her like I did. 

“But you were best friends!” cried one of the Koroks.

“You were in love!” interjected another. 

Link laughed humorlessly and grabbed the horse’s saddle. It was a sturdy mount, well bred, perfect for his journeys around Hyrule. He hurled himself into the saddle in a single movement. “I don’t know if you can truly be in love that young,” he said, scowling. 

Chio shook his little head. “But…aren’t you in love with her now?”

Link turned his head just enough to gaze south, toward Hyrule Castle. He would never admit it to anyone, but Chio was right. He was in love with the princess. He’d been in love with her since they went to school together in Castle Town, since they first started playing make-believe in the castle gardens, imagining scenarios where he would be her knight and would rescue her from evil monsters. He’d been in love with her since his father died in the line of duty and left him destitute, since she’d held him as he broke down at his father’s funeral. 

He’d been in love with her for nearly his entire life, and that love had never waned. Not since that kiss they had shared in the castle prisons, the last time he had laid eyes on her. 

And yet, he had simply walked away. He hadn’t ever tried to go back.  

After escaping his imprisonment, Link had hightailed it to the Lost Woods, the only place in Hyrule that no one dared to try their luck navigating. It was there that Link had discovered his elusive ability to see the silly, giddy, sometimes annoying woodland spirits that took him to their haven within the woods. 

That was when he became the Lost Bandit. 

He was an outlaw, a criminal, an untrustworthy commoner. He stole from the nobles and the dukes who had enough money to wipe their asses with gold leaf, and he distributed that wealth to the weak, the young, the sick, those who could not hope to care for themselves. 

He told himself every day that it was a noble cause, that he was actually doing the right thing. But he was public enemy number one in Hyrule. No amount of fancy swordplay and archery would change that fact. 

He wheeled his horse back toward the path that led toward Kakariko, ready to distribute the elixirs to those who had fallen ill as the winter set in. 

“I’m not joining the tournament, and that’s that,” Link said with finality. 

Later that week, Link joined the tournament. 

Chapter Text

Link paced back and forth in front of the Deku tree, gnawing on his nails until they were bitten to the quick. This was stupid. This was so stupid. He should stay here and keep on doing what he’d been doing. He shouldn’t join the tournament. 

And he definitely shouldn’t draw the sword that had been sitting in front of the Deku tree for the last five years. 

He had discovered the sword the first time he’d come across this place, when he had stumbled into the clearing of the Korok forest, withered and hungry, covered in scratches and barely holding his head up. He had leaned against the hilt for support, and the thing had sent a jolt of electricity across his body so painful that he blacked out for a second. 

Since then, he’d tried to pull it more than a few times. Every time, he held on a little longer. The last time, just a few months ago, he had actually shifted it within its pedestal, enough to make him sure that it would slide right out one day, given he had enough strength. 

He stared up at the Deku tree, who remained agonizingly silent. “Well?” he asked, spreading his arms. “Do you have any better ideas?” 

The wizened face did not move. Link waved a dismissive hand. “Asshole.”

The truth was, if he was going to enter that tournament, he needed a real sword. Not the wooden forest dweller’s sword that he always kept strapped to his back. A real one, with a deadly edge, like the ones he trained with in Kakariko under the Sheikah’s secret instruction. 

Sucking in a breath, he stepped up to the pedestal and wrapped his hand around the purple and green hilt. The energy in the sword wafted over his skin, sending the hairs on his arms standing on end, but it didn’t hurt this time.That was a good sign, at least. 

He joined his other hand on the sword. Glancing around at the assembled Koroks, he spat, “No one better stuff berries in my underpants if I pass out this time, or someone’s getting used for target practice.” 

The Koroks giggled, and Link rolled his eyes. 

He pulled up on the sword. 

It offered a measure of resistance at first, as it always did. Link felt his energy drain from him, and his arms began to shake as he continued to pull. 

Between his feet, the blade slid up a few inches. 

He did not count it as victory, instead gritting his teeth and redoubling his efforts to yank the damned thing out. It was agony in every muscle of his body. 

The blade moved again. Link let out a breath and sucked another one in, closing his eyes as the last of his energy faded away. Heat crept up his neck, over his cheeks, and nausea swirled in his stomach. Blackness hovered at the edges of his vision. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

Just before he was about to pass out, the sword came free. 

It did so with such gusto that Link lost his balance and landed flat on his rear end on the hard stone platform. He groaned and cursed, but the delighted screeching of the Koroks was enough to direct his attention from his sore ass to the blade resting on his chest. 

He sat up and lifted the sword in his hand with a triumphant smile. 

“Ha!” he cried. He turned to the Koroks and pointed the tip of the sword at all of them. “No more berries in my underpants for you!” 

“You have done well, hero.” 

The Deku tree’s voice shocked Link into scrambling to his feet. It was rare that they spoke to each other, the tree preferring to stand guard over this strange sword rather than have any conversation with him. 

Now, though, the tree stared down at him with eyes that seemed to pierce right through Link’s body. 

“That sword indicates your position as the champion of Hyrule, the one who will join in the battle to stop the Calamity.” 

Link glanced down at the hilt in his hand. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The tree was speaking nonsense. There was no hero. And the word “Calamity”…he had heard it a few times while traveling around Hyrule, though he paid little attention to gossip outside of which villages were facing the most hardship and what ways the Duke of Necluda and the other nobles in power had pressed their thumbs on the scales of wealth. Where had he heard it last? Kakariko? Yes, that seemed right. Something about a Great Calamity that had been foretold by an oracle. Something that had not been seen for thousands of years. 

There was talk of unearthing some strange Sheikah tech in response to the Calamity. Link knew about that, at least. Zelda had gone on and on about the intricacies and capabilities of ancient Sheikah technology, but she had failed to mention what it might have been built for. Or perhaps he had just forgotten. It seemed a likely possibility, given how long it had been since he last saw her. 

“You will learn more as you come to terms with your role,” the Deku tree said. “For now, keep the blade safe. It will guide you toward your destiny.”

Link lifted the sword and stared at his reflection in the clean blade. He wasn’t sure how a sword could act as a guide, but the Koroks and the Deku Tree had always been prone to speaking in riddles. It didn’t matter, anyway. He had a sword now. He was ready to join the tournament. 

— — — 

The tournament was being held at the grand coliseum just north of the Great Plateau. With the addition of his new horse, which he had named Cocoa after his favorite dessert, Link was able to reach the exchange near the coliseum within a day. He rode in under cover of night. The villagers of Kakariko were always very generous in their gifts to him, and he was dressed in a soft Sheikah outfit with a mask covering the lower half of his face. His dark blue cloak — Zelda’s cloak — had become synonymous with his position as the Lost Bandit, so he had reluctantly rolled it up and stored it in one of his newly-acquired saddlebags. Instead, he wore a black cloak to match the Sheikah disguise, the hood pulled low over his hair, which he had rubbed with coal dust to dye it an unassuming shade of black. There would be no one here who could recognize him as the infamous outlaw. Hopefully.

Campsites had been erected all around the exchange, and campfires blazed before every tent, surrounded by laughing men all keen to gossip about their odds in the tournament. A strange sense of foreboding settled upon Link. Perhaps he would have to face more fierce competition than he thought. 

In the far corner of the huge camp, Link spied the royal tent. It was larger than all of the structures in the exchange, nearly glowing in the torchlight that reflected off the purple canvas. Guards stood at attention around the perimeter, but their posture was relaxed. They obviously weren’t suspecting anything to go amiss before the tournament started. 

There was still a line of prospective competitors just outside the royal tent, all waiting for their turn to sign up for the tournament. Link decided to set up his own camp first, preferring to wait until the crowd had died down before throwing his own hat into the ring. He was still a wanted criminal, after all. 

It took him very little time to pitch his meager tent and throw together some dinner over a small fire. He made sure to settle far from the other tents, and he gave off an air of aloofness so no well-meaning contestants would attempt to strike up a conversation. Luckily, nobody did, and he was able to enjoy his meal in silence. Aside from the constant chattering of his never-ending trail of Korok companions, of course. But nobody could hear them, anyway. 

When many of the fires had died down and most of the crowd had gone to sleep, Link finally slipped from his tent and made the trek toward the royal encampment. There were still a few strong-backed men in line waiting for their chance to sign the ledger, but when Link joined the queue, nobody else stepped up behind him. He was to be the last man to put his name in the running. 

As he stepped closer to the tent, he realized with a jolt that the table with the list of sign-ups was not unattended. In fact, sitting across from the grinning, swooning contestants was Princess Zelda herself, draped in a new dark cloak to ward away the cool air of the night. Link felt as though he was going to be sick. 

She was more beautiful than Link had imagined she’d grown to be. A braid stretched across the top of her head, but the rest of her hair was loose and long, falling down her back in a golden waterfall. Her face had lost much of its childish roundness, but her eyes were still wide and innocent. Link always loved how it felt to be on the receiving end of her appraising stare. But his palms were suddenly sweating, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He didn’t expect to see her so soon. He had entertained fantasies of winning the tournament with a flourish, rushing up to the royal box, and whisking her into his arms. He imagined kissing her in front of the crowd of onlookers, claiming to everyone around him that she was his, that she would always be his. 

He did not predict the look of utter boredom and contempt that was hewn into the features of her face. 

When it came to his turn at the table, he felt as though his heart might burst from his chest. He couldn’t contain the trembling in his hands as he signed his alias on the paper, and then glanced up, toward the princess. She looked pointedly away, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Link clenched the pen in his hand to keep himself from launching over the table and gathering her in his arms. 

“You seem troubled with this whole affair.”

The sentence left his mouth before he thought it all the way through. Startled by himself, he dropped the pen to the table and took a step back. Surely talking to the princess without being addressed was a breach of etiquette. What would she do to him? Call the guards? Smite him down with her words? Should he reveal his identity to her now, before he was outed by this simple sentence?

Her eyes drifted over to him, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Would you believe you’re the first one… to…”

She trailed off slowly when their gazes met. Link’s stomach swooped when her eyes blazed with recognition. Was he really that obvious? Even with his hood, and the scarf covering his face, and the black coal in his hair?

But she didn’t seem to be sure. Her eyes narrowed, and a crease formed between her eyebrows that always appeared when she was trying to solve a puzzle. Link was suddenly struck with the urge to reach across the table and press his thumb against the crease like he would have done five years ago. He marveled that he still had that reflex, even after all this time. 

Ugh, this was bad. If he had known he would be this affected by the very sight of her, he might have just stayed in the Lost Woods instead. He couldn’t perform in the tournament with such a distraction in the back of his mind. 

He held her gaze, unsure whether he wanted her to recognize him fully or not. In the end, his selfishness won out. 

“It’s me.”

He regretted it immediately. He had no idea if she knew he was the Lost Bandit or not. Regardless of whether or not the royal guards had attached his identity to that of the bandit, he was still a criminal. Link had still escaped Hyrule prison and had circumvented his punishment for stealing from the duke. 

Zelda’s eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath through her mouth. “Li—ow!”

She stood up so fast she slammed her knees into the table in front of her, nearly upending it. Link placed his hands on the surface to steady it. 

“Don’t say my name,” he hissed at her. He hated giving her an order, but he couldn’t risk getting caught. “It’s me. Just sit back down and act like I’m another candidate.” 

Slowly, but with reverent awe in her expression, Zelda lowered herself back down to her chair. Her hands shook as she placed them on the table. “H-how did you—where did you—what have you been—”

“Shhh, Princess, you can’t act so surprised to see me.”

Zelda closed her eyes and did a very convincing job of schooling her features back into nonchalance. When she gazed back up at him again, it was with that look of boredom that had been on her face before. He was nothing if not impressed. “Did nobody recognize you on your way in?” she asked. 

Link gestured to the covering still wrapped around the lower half of his face, obscuring everything but his eyes. “Nobody here has gotten this close to me since…” He hesitated, swallowed thickly. “Anyway, nobody will recognize me.” 

“Did you come here to—“

“Princess, just by talking to you here I’m putting a target on my back.” He glanced around, making sure no one was watching their interaction. “Do you have freedom to leave your tent tonight?”

Zelda shook her head. “No, I’m kept under guard. But Link, I—”

“Do you want me to explain what I’m doing here?”

She nodded, biting her lip. 

“Do you have your own tent?”

“Yes, it’s the small one on the east side of the camp.”

“I’ll find a way to sneak past the guards in a couple of hours and find you. I’ll explain everything, alright?”

Zelda nodded again. 

Link hesitated, tilted his head. “Is…are you alright if I come to you?”

He saw her suppressing a smile. Her face was as red as a hearty radish, and a glimmer in her eyes told him all he needed to know about how she felt about him coming to her. “It’s more than alright, Link. I can’t believe—”

“I’m sorry, Princess. I have to go. I’ll be at your tent in two hours, okay?”

“Okay. Two hours.” 

Link forced himself to turn away, tugging his hood further down over his face. He was stupid. Utterly and completely stupid. What did he think he was going to do here? Did he think he could escape his past? Escape his present? The mere sight of Zelda in the flesh had caused him to reveal his identity without a second thought. She turned him into an utter fool. 

But oh, how she exceeded every imagining that Link could have conceived. Holding his tongue around her was an impossibility, he knew that now. He would just have to trust that she still felt the same fondness for him that he felt for her. 

— — —

Link had no trouble finding Zelda’s tent, seeing as it was one of the largest in the camp. She had claimed it was small, but small to a royal was astronomical to a commoner like Link. Perhaps the disparity in their lives had grown too large for them to circumvent anymore. He had no idea if she would even care for him after knowing where he’d been. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He was tired of the constant back-and-forth of his thoughts. But he had a feeling that they would continue for a long while, or at least as long as he was competing in this tournament. 

The guards were easy to slip past, especially with the softness of the soles on his shoes and the way the Sheikah cloak allowed him to blend in with the darkness of the night. He regretted bringing the sword from the glade, seeing as it was rather flashy, but something had prompted him to strap it to his back before leaving. 

He didn’t want to simply enter the tent without at least announcing his presence, so he crouched at the back corner and imitated the call of what used to be one of Zelda’s favorite birds. 

Zelda’s voice answered immediately through the thick fabric. “Link?”

He lifted up the edge of the tent and ducked inside. 

Despite the rustic exterior that the tent attempted to portray, the inside was akin to a royal chamber. Or at least what Link imagined a royal chamber to look like. The servants had brought an entire bed with them, which was decorated in all kinds of silk throws. A settee rested on a pile of rugs in the center of the tent, and lighted lamps hung from the ceiling at even intervals, casting the whole place in a warm, intimate glow. 

Zelda stood in the center of the tent, wearing a long purple nightgown with a thick robe tied over it to ward off the chill of the wintery night. She gazed at him with an expression full of wonder and astonishment. 

It was like no time at all had passed between them. She looked into his eyes and knew his very soul, and after so many years of being alone with the Koroks, his knees went weak from the intimacy of it. 

He wanted to run across the room and scoop her up into his arms. He wanted to pick up exactly where they had left off, with his lips on hers, only with no cell bars between them this time. He made himself stay still, though his heart beat so hard in his chest he was sure Zelda could hear it all the way across the room. 

Slowly, he raised his hands to lower his hood. “Princess.”

Instead of responding, Zelda took a step toward him. Link remained still, choosing to hold her gaze and allow her to have control of the room. He didn’t want to spook her. 

He resisted the urge to groan and rub his hands over his face. He had spent too much time alone in the woods if he was treating her like a scared chipmunk. 

She reached toward him, arm outstretched. He held his breath as her finger hooked into the top of the scarf that covered his mouth and nose and pulled it down, past his chin. He was grateful he had had the wherewithal to shave that morning when the warm, sweet air of the tent wafted over his exposed skin.

Zelda let out a shaky breath. “I thought…for a moment, I thought I had imagined it.”

“Imagined what?” 

The fingers in his mask reached up to curl around his cheek. Her skin was cold and clammy. Her hands shook. “You,” she whispered. 

Link covered her fingers with his own. He marveled at the closeness of her, after so many years. How could she still look at him with those wide green eyes and not find it within herself to hate him? 

The answer came swiftly when she whispered, “Where have you been?”

It was that one question that brought all of his hopes crashing down around him. 

Link swallowed thickly. “You…you don’t know?” 

Zelda’s lips parted, soft and glistening and oh so, so tempting. “How could I? You escaped so long ago. I looked for you everywhere. On the streets of Castle Town, in the stone quarries in Necluda…I couldn’t go on a full manhunt for you, seeing as you were a wanted criminal, but…everywhere I went, I tried to find you.” 

Link closed his eyes to try to keep the despair at bay. She didn’t know who he was. Who he truly was. The identity of the Lost Bandit had remained a secret to her. 

He couldn’t bear to ruin this moment with the truth now. 

“I…I’ve been traveling. Staying on the move. I didn’t want anyone to get suspicious about…you know…who I was—am.” 

“You didn’t think to write me? You could have used a code. I would have figured it out.” 

Link’s fingers tightened around hers, keeping her palm firmly pressed to his face. “There haven’t been very many opportunities for me to find postage.” 

His half attempt at a joke made a small smile curl the edge of her mouth. She threw her arms over his shoulders, drawing him close, and practically wrapped herself around him. Link’s hands fell to her waist, and he scrunched up his eyes to keep himself from openly weeping. He hadn’t been hugged since…well, he couldn’t remember the last time. Her body was warm, soft, every inch of her nightgown silky and smooth against his fingers. He wanted to remove his gloves and feel her against his palms, but he contented himself with burying his nose against her neck and inhaling her as deeply as he could. Her shampoo was just the same as it always had been. The smell had been lost years ago from the cloak she had given him, so he forced himself to memorize it here, lest he never have another opportunity. 

He would have stayed there for an eternity if he could have. But the joy shattered when Zelda froze in his arms, and a terrified gasp left her lips. 

His first instinct was that someone had come into the tent. He released her so fast that she stumbled away from him and had to catch herself on the edge of the settee. But there was no one else there when he turned to investigate. 

“What?” he asked, whipping his head around. “What is it?” 

“Where…” Her knees buckled, and she lowered herself to the settee. “Where did you get that sword?”

Chapter Text

Link stared at Zelda, his whole body frozen with confusion. “Um…”

She gestured toward the hilt that protruded over his shoulder. “Draw it. Please.”

With careful movements, Link reached behind him and pulled the well-crafted sword from the makeshift leather sheath he had fashioned with the help of the Koroks. It didn’t match such a fine blade, but it was the best he could do. 

The blade seemed to sing as he held it aloft, the gem in the center of the hilt reflecting the light from the lamps overhead. Zelda’s eyes grew impossibly wider. 

“Link…” she breathed. “Where did you find this?”

Link wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t tell her he had discovered it in the Lost Woods. The Lost Bandit was known to make his home there, and Zelda was intelligent enough to connect the dots. Instead, he said, “Well…I was exploring a cave system in Akkala, and…I found it in a chest.”

Zelda’s green eyes jumped to his face. “In a cave? ”

His face burned hot from the lie. “Yes.”

“Do you have any idea what this sword is?”

Link twisted the hilt back and forth in his hands, examining it from all angles. “Uh…no?”

“This…this is the Master Sword, Link.”

“The Master Sword?”

“Yes! Don’t you know that the crown has been searching for this for nearly five years?”

Link gripped the hilt tighter. “This sword? Why this one in particular?”

Zelda stood up from the settee again and approached him slowly. “Just after you escaped from the prison, an oracle foretold the Great Calamity. She said that a monster would rise up to destroy Hyrule and all of its people, and that it would happen within our lifetime. Only the descendant of the goddess, paired with a hero who would draw the Master Sword, could hope to stop the destruction it would wreak. We have been searching for the hero for years now. This tournament is an attempt to draw all of the best fighters from all of Hyrule, hoping to sniff the hero out before the Calamity comes.”

Link’s stomach did a little jig within his abdomen. Suddenly, the declaration that the Deku Tree had given him made a lot more sense. The tree had called him a hero. Had mentioned the Calamity. 

But… he couldn’t be the hero that saved Hyrule. He was a blight, a scourge that the nobility was actively trying to dispel. Someone had gotten something wrong here. 

And yet…the idea of giving the sword to anyone else, of letting some other hero wield it…it felt like an abomination. This sword was his. 

“How do you know that this is the Master Sword?” Link asked, resting the blade across his gloved palm. “I mean…couldn’t this just look like it?”

“Link,” Zelda said, reaching out to curl her fingers over his around the hilt, “I am the descendant of the goddess who will join the hero in the fight against the Calamity.”

Link’s hand tightened under hers. “You?”

Zelda nodded. “I’ve spent the last five years trying desperately to awaken the powers of the goddess that should be within me, to no avail. My father and the priests of Hylia cannot understand why it has yet to show itself. They think that the lack of Hyrule’s champion  may be preventing me from awakening my full potential. I have not felt the presence of the goddess, or any message from her…until now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…I can feel the spirit within this sword, Link.” She pulled the hilt from his grip, and he released it reluctantly, allowing her to cradle the hilt and the blade in her outstretched palms. “I cannot understand it yet, but it calls to me. There is no doubt in my mind. This is the Master Sword of legend.”

Link and Zelda both allowed their gazes to drift over the shining blade. In his mind’s eye, Link replayed the solemn declaration of the Deku Tree and the raucous cheering of the Koroks that occurred when he drew it. He should have asked more questions. 

“I think it does belong to me,” Link admitted. He reached out and pulled the hilt back from Zelda’s palm. “I can feel a connection to it that I’ve never felt with any other weapon.”

He reached to sheath it at his back again, but Zelda held out a hand to stop him. “You cannot compete in the tournament with that sword, Link.”

Link froze with the blade halfway over his shoulder. “Why not?”

“If my father sees it…there will be a great uproar in the camp, and you will be caught in the center of it. The tournament will be stopped immediately, and…who knows what they’ll do to you when they find out that you’re the man who stole the Duke of Necluda’s purse and escaped from sentencing? It’s best if you leave it here with me until I can find a way to discreetly alert my father that the Hero has been found.”

Link’s throat swelled up with fear. Being revealed as the Hero and the boy who skimped out on his sentencing was one thing. Being revealed as the Hero and the man who stole every ounce of gold from every noble he could possibly find was another thing entirely. Who knew what they would do to him? But if this Calamity was as bad as Zelda said, there was no way he could leave her to face it alone. 

Reluctantly, Link set the blade down on the settee. “I’ll leave it here, then. For now. Until we can come up with a plan. But I’ll need a new sword for the tournament.”

“Thank you, Link. Tomorrow is the archery portion of the competition, so I’ll have time to procure you another blade, I promise. Do you have a bow?”

He nodded.

“Good. I…I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for you during the games.”

Slowly, Link tore his gaze from the Master Sword and trained it back on Zelda’s face. Now that the issue of the sword had been placed to the side, her eyes were wide and adoring again, looking at him like he was the sweetest piece of fruitcake on the dessert table. His heart leapt into his throat. “Thank you.”

She fidgeted with the tie of her robe and said, “Before you leave…may I ask…why did you come to compete in the tournament?”

Link shifted from foot to foot and reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “Well…why is everyone else here?” he laughed halfheartedly.

“You…wish to court me?”

Link licked his lips and forced himself to stand resolutely before her. The time for second guessing could come later. He would have plenty of time to mull over what to do with the Master Sword, what to do about the Calamity and his identity as the Lost Bandit. Right now, he was reckoning with one thing: the very reason he had dared to come here in the first place. 

“If you might accept courting someone like me…yes,” he answered. “I know that I didn’t write you. And that I skipped town on you without so much as a goodbye. But…I’m here now. I’m here because I’m done staying away from you. You’re the only person I’ve thought about for the last five years, Zel.”

The familiar nickname sent a pretty blush dancing across Zelda’s cheeks. When she smiled up at him, her eyes were glimmering. “Link…the true nature of this tournament is a ploy to scope out the hero, yes. But the whole reason that my hand is being used as bait is because I’ve absolutely refused every suitor who has come to call on me. Because…well, my heart has only ever belonged to one man.”

Link tilted his head and smirked at her. “That one man being?”

Zelda smacked him lightly on the arm. “Don’t be an idiot, Link. Of course it’s you. It’s only ever been you.”

Link took a step closer to Zelda, so close that he could catch another whiff of that damned shampoo that seemed to always haunt his dreams. “Zelda, I hope you will forgive me if I do something utterly unseemly. I do have to finish something you started, after all.”

Zelda looked at him with a challenge in her eyes. “You know I never like to let things go unfinished.”

Between one breath and the next, Link’s lips were upon hers, finally paying back the kiss she had left him with when they were just teenagers. He had hoped to make this moment grand and romantic, a swoon-worthy reunion that would leave Zelda breathless. But his nerves had him fumbling as he reached to wrap his hands around her waist. 

Her laugh ghosted against his mouth, and then her fingers were in his hair, and he didn’t have the wherewithal to warn her that she would get coal dust on herself because suddenly her lips were pressing back against his with a passion that astounded Link. He dug his fingers into her spine and felt her curl into him like a powerful wave crashing into a sturdy rock. 

Link resisted the urge to laugh. He was kissing the princess, descendant of the goddess. What felt like dozens of impossibilities had already occurred tonight, so what was one more? The Lost Bandit, most dreaded of Hyrule, had the kingdom’s most precious jewel in his hands, and he was stealing her away right under the noses of the nobility. 

But that was not the biggest impossibility. 

The biggest impossibility was that he, Link, a commoner without two coins to rub together, a lovesick fool who had never moved on from his childhood sweetheart, was kissing that childhood sweetheart in the glow of the lamplight. And she was kissing him back. The Lost Bandit could take a hike for a few minutes. Right now, he was just a boy holding the girl of his dreams in his arms. He could live in this fantasy for years. 

All too soon, their lips parted, though they remained entwined around each other. Long golden lashes fluttered over flushed cheeks as Zelda opened her eyes to stare into Link’s face. 

“I hope you win,” she whispered.

Link gripped her tighter, hoping to convey his resolve through the strength of his arms. The tip of his nose touched hers.  “I will,” he promised her. “For you.”

— — —

The Great Plateau did a decent job at blocking the winter winds from gusting through the gathered crowds, but the air was still biting as the archers lined up inside the coliseum for the archery contest. Link was glad for his cloak, though he wished he had been able to don the one he always wore. The fine quality of the fabric from the castle never failed at warming him, even in the coldest of winters. But the Koroks had sewn a large leaf onto the back of it several years ago, and that leaf pattern would mark him as the Lost Bandit in no time at all. Better to suffer under the thin black cloak from the commoners of Hateno than to be placed in iron chains. 

His forest dweller’s bow had the capability of shooting three arrows at once, but Link opted for only one during the tournament. He didn’t want to show off this early in the running. 

The targets had been arranged in a long line opposite the coliseum. Overhead, hundreds of nobles and rich Castle Town residents gathered to observe the spectacle. Link saw more than a few rupees changing hands as the archers took their practice shots before the games began. He chose to bide his time, knowing that practice shots would only make him a target of scrutiny earlier than he wanted. 

A Rito had been placed next to him in the ranking. He was tall and blue-feathered, and he wore a strange blue scarf around his neck. His practice shots, while accurate, contained a fair amount of flourish that drew the attentions of admirers. Link rolled his eyes under his hood every time he proclaimed his imminent victory. 

“I was chosen as the Champion to pilot Vah Medoh!” the Rito said to anyone who would listen. He grinned at the onlookers, his preening quickly becoming too much for Link to handle. “Only the best of the best would have been chosen by the monarchy for such an important task. You’ll see soon enough, won’t you?”

Soon, the archers — nearly one hundred in total — were all instructed to take their places across from their targets, and three arrows were handed out to each. The king stood up in the royal box, and a hush fell over the crowd. 

“Welcome, one and all, to the tournament of champions!” he called. “You have traveled from all over Hyrule for a chance to prove your mettle and show you have what it takes to be the Hero of Hyrule!”

A roar of applause shook the coliseum. Link’s gaze slid from the king over to the princess, who stood demurely, her back straight, her gown falling in perfect pleats about her waist. He could not catch her eye from so far away, but as she looked over the gathered contestants, his skin warmed with the memory of kissing her just the night before. 

“As you all know, the winner will not only receive the mantle of the Hero, but he will also receive a cash reward, and the opportunity to court my daughter, Princess Zelda, if she so chooses. May the best warrior win!”

Another round of applause from the citizens. Link flexed his fingers around his bow. He was confident in his abilities, but the welcome speech had made all of this feel much more real. He felt as though he were balancing on the edge of a dagger, poised to fall into fire if he made so much as one misstep. 

He narrowed his focus only to the target before him as the archers were instructed to pick up their first arrow. Link lifted his bow and notched his own arrow against the string. This wasn’t a tournament. This wasn’t for the princess’s hand. There was only him, his bow, the fletching of the arrow tickling his cheek, the red target just ahead. 

He pulled the string back, and the bow creaked as the wood bent to accommodate his strength. 

“On my count!” an announcer cried. 

Link aligned the tip of the arrow with the center of the target. There was very little wind in the coliseum thanks to the tall cliffs to the south, but there was a slight breeze coming in from the entrance to the north. Link corrected his aim accordingly. His tongue darted out between his teeth to wet his lips.  

“Begin!”

The arrow went flying. 

It slammed into the bull’s eye with a satisfying thunk , and Link relaxed his grip on the string with a sigh. First arrow down, and he was already well ahead of the pack. 

“Impressive shot,” the Rito next to him said. Link raised his eyes to his feathered companion and risked a glance at the Rito’s target. A bull’s eye as well. Apparently he wasn’t just all talk. 

“I’m Revali,” the Rito said, bowing at the waist. “Champion of the Rito.”

“Yes, I heard you saying as such,” Link said, nodding his head in greeting. “If you are already Champion, why bother joining the tournament?”

Revali laughed heartily as he reached for his second arrow. “What better way to show that the monarchy made the best choice than to display my skills for all to see?”

Link picked up his own second arrow and fitted it against the string. “Do you wish to court the princess, then?” he asked, lifting the bow again. 

Revali took aim beside Link. “Oh, no. That sentiment is nothing but folly. Everyone knows that the princess will refuse every man who tries to claim her hand.”

Link breathed down the shaft of the arrow and could not help his smirk. Not every man , he thought. He let the arrow fly. 

Thoughts of Zelda had distracted him, so when the arrow struck the target, it hit a little to the left of the first. Still well within the bull’s eye, but not as accurate as he would have liked. He clicked his teeth in annoyance. 

He reached for his third arrow and notched it in his bow. Making the last shot was easy; the arrow struck halfway between the first two, all three in the very center of the target. 

The first round was called, and the judges tallied the scores. A few archers — perhaps about two dozen — were eliminated from the next round for not reaching the scoring threshold. 

The targets were moved back, and the next round commenced. Revali remained steadfastly beside Link, but a new contestant was placed on his other side, one who did not greet him but instead made all three of his shots in quick succession. 

Link followed his lead, not wanting to look like he was dilly dallying when the man next to him was all business. He put all three arrows in the bull’s eye and turned to one of the attendants to get a drink of water. Another round was called, more contestants were eliminated. By the time the third round commenced, only twenty archers remained. 

Link still did not deign to look at the contestant to his left, instead taking his time with the next shots to ensure he remained inside the center of the target. He did not miss a single time, though the target had been moved back a significant amount this round. 

A cheer went up from the crowd when the archers for the final round were announced. Link and Revali made it through, plus two more archers who had managed to sink their arrows into the bull’s eye from such a far distance. The last man to succeed was the competitor to Link’s left. 

With only five archers remaining, the crowd began to grow more frenzied. Every target was removed except one, and the five competitors were told they would be shooting one at a time to secure their place in the first round of the tournament. They would each get three shots in a row, and the closest to the center would win. 

Link was placed at the back of the pack, so he had plenty of time to watch the others make their attempts. Revali was surprisingly graceful with his arrows, outperforming two of the others during his turn. The second to last archer was the one who had not introduced himself to Link. It wasn’t until he stepped up to the line and sent a sly grin to the royal box that Link finally recognized him. 

When he did, Link’s entire body froze in abject terror. 

The Duke of Necluda was shooting for the princess’s hand. 

Chapter Text

Link was still wearing his hood and scarf to conceal his identity, but he couldn’t help ducking his gaze down when the Duke turned to flash a smile at the crowd. The man couldn’t have been older than fifty, but his hair was already graying with age, and his tanned skin wrinkled around the corners of his eyes as he flashed a wicked grin at the royal box. Duke Ghirahim was his name, though he much preferred to be referred to as just “Your Grace” or the Duke of Necluda. Any indication of informality or familiarity would be met with a swift strike of the Duke’s hand. He was the most power-hungry of all the nobility, and often strong-armed, blackmailed, and bribed the other dukes and counts into passing legislation that benefited him above all else. Necluda was rich in farmland and well-populated, meaning that he had wealth enough to match the king himself. Link had stalked his caravans plenty of times, had made away with chests of gold from his many different houses, had turned the Duke into his primary target during all of his years of thievery. And now here he was, just a few steps away from him, and the Duke was none the wiser.

Link didn’t know whether to be terrified or smug about it.

The most infuriating thing about the Duke, by far, was his competence. It was one thing to be rich, and another thing entirely to be rich and smart about it. His guards were well-trained, his money well-invested. Link had been a hair’s breadth away from being caught multiple times during his thievery, sometimes even by the Duke himself.

That competence showed when the Duke picked up his bow, took aim, and sent an arrow flying into the very center of the target. It was the best shot any of the archers had made in the final round, and Link did not miss the confident sneer that arose on Ghirahim’s lips when he reached for the next arrow.

The Duke’s second shot landed on the edge of the bull’s eye, and his third landed right next to his first, securing him as the top scorer of the tournament. Revali offered him a graceful nod, though Link could see a sneer of distaste on the Rito’s expression. Perhaps Link would grow to like Revali after all, despite his pompous attitude. Any enemy of the Duke was a friend to Link.

The Duke bowed toward the screaming crowd with a flick of his cape. Link had a whole list of names he wished he could have hissed as he took his own place at the shooting line.

The crowd was hardly paying attention to the final contestant. With three arrows within the center mark, the Duke had more than secured his win for the first day of the tournament. There was no way a no-name commoner without a knight’s training could outmatch him. 

Link notched his arrow and drew the string back. The center of the target was barely more than a speck in the distance, but Link had hit smaller targets with worse wind conditions plenty of times. He let out his breath, slowly, feeling it whistle down the arrow’s wooden shaft.

His first arrow hit the outside edge of the bull’s eye.

“Damn,” he cursed, lowering his bow. The Duke’s presence had thrown him off. He needed to aim better on his next two shots, or the Duke would outmatch him.

His second arrow flew – and landed dead center. Link did not turn to the crowd, or gesticulate wildly, or even try to send a wink toward the princess. His next shot needed to reach the very center as well, or it was all over.

“Good luck beating my score,” the Duke murmured over his shoulder. “I’ve been trained by the greatest archers in the Hylian military. No one can outmatch me.”

We’ll see about that, asshole, Link thought to himself as he raised his bow for the final time. He imagined that the bull’s eye was the Duke’s tiny little head, just waiting for an arrow to strike it. He thought of all the ways he could punish the Duke if, by some miracle, he was given the chance to court the princess. If he was made prince consort, he could strip him of his titles. Take away his lands. Remove his rupees and dump them into Hylia River for the commoners to find. 

Actually, that didn’t sound too bad.

His tongue between his teeth, Link released the bow string. He watched the arrow sail in a smooth, straight line toward the center of the target far away. His whole body tensed as it neared, hoping against hope that it would be enough to equal the Duke’s score—

The tip tore through the shaft of the arrow in the center, striking the target with a thump that seemed to echo through the entire coliseum. 

Silence fell like a hammer upon an anvil over the crowd. Even the Duke had frozen, his face paling as he beheld what had just transpired. 

Link had split his previous arrow perfectly in half.

Screams of surprise and a thunderous round of applause finally brought Link back to the present. He wanted nothing more than to jump atop the judge’s table, fling off his cloak, and show everyone there that the Duke of Necluda was nothing, nothing at all, compared to the skills of the dreaded Lost Bandit.

Instead, he suppressed his smirk, bowed lightly toward the Duke, and strutted to the coliseum’s exit without so much as lowering his hood.

— — —

 That night, Link was invited by no fewer than eight members of the nobility to dine around their campfires. Link’s first inclination was to decline, but garnering a reputation as a recluse could only serve to make others more suspicious. Better to be an aloof, well-meaning Hylian than a dangerous shadow who lurked at the edges of the camp.

He sent his Korok companions off into the woods, claiming that his dinner would be far too boring for their sensibilities, what with all the stuffy nobles turning their noses up at everything beneath them. The forest spirits agreed without complaint, and Link heard them devising a new game amongst themselves as they waddled away from the camp. Hopefully that would buy him a few hours without their obnoxious giggling. 

Link sat down beside the fire of one of the richest counts and risked lowering his face scarf to partake of the delicacies. Roasted venison with a sweet maple glaze, potatoes baked in the coals of the fire, fresh vegetables carted all the way from the castle gardens; though Link could cook a mean stew in the heart of Korok forest, this put most of his hastily-scrounged meals to shame. He had to work very hard not to moan when the first bite passed his lips.

Though Link had received an invitation directly from this Count, no one around the fire made much of an effort to talk with him outside of vague introductions and congratulations concerning the first round of the tournament. They all seemed too engrossed in their own conversations, all of them having come from riches and being unable to converse with anyone below their station due to a simple lack of common interests. It was fine by Link. He was happy to fill his belly either way.

He knew he was toeing the line of being caught when a group of soldiers approached the fire, their eyes bright with drink. One of them, a tall redhead with a scar on his face, still had a chalice of wine in his hand even though they all looked to be on duty.

Link would rather not have a run-in with the law this early in the tournament, so he decided to take his leave. He set down his plate, pulled his scarf back up over his nose, and waited for an opening.

Link watched as the red headed soldier crossed toward the Count, his grip light on his chalice of wine. In the end, Link couldn’t help himself.

He stretched out his foot and caught the soldier around the ankle.

The soldier’s wine spilled down the front of the Count’s shirt, and the soldier landed in the man’s lap. A fit of shouting and protests erupted from all of those around the fire as Link jumped to his feet and approached the struggling men. He grabbed the soldier’s shoulder, yanking one of the golden buttons off his epaulet as he did so, and helped him to his feet.

“Are you alright?” Link asked, flattening his hands down the soldier’s wrinkled military uniform. Another golden button disappeared between his fingers. “You took quite a fall there! Here, let me—oh, bother,  I’m so clumsy, my sincerest apologies!” He said the last sentence as he pushed the soldier backward hard enough to send him sprawling to the ground. His fellow cadets rushed to help him out, and Link turned his attention to the Count. 

The Count was squealing about his state of dress and the stains that the red wine would leave on the pristine white shirt.

“Oh, dear!” Link cried, sinking into a crouch before the stuffy noble. “Surely you have a handkerchief on you! Allow me to find it for you.” He stuffed his hands into the Count’s many pockets, palming a handful of rupees but leaving behind what seemed to be a lady’s undergarment. Link had to resist the urge to chuckle as he pulled his hand away. 

“Ah, I can’t seem to find anything, but not to worry, sir!” Link patted the Count’s chest and unfastened one of his several broaches as he did so. “Do you have towels in your tent? I’ll fetch you something!”

The Count didn’t even deign to look Link in the eye as he said, “Yes! Yes! Get the towels, quickly!”

Link stole between the tent flaps before anyone else around the fire rose to their feet. The inside was an egregious display of wealth, so much so that Link stopped in his tracks and let out a low whistle. He pattered about the room, pocketing a few gold coins from a pile on the man’s nightstand – who brings a nightstand to a tournament? – and searching for the towels in question. Another broach disappeared into the folds of Link’s cloak, followed by a ring and a necklace from a jewelry box near the foot of the bed. Link had been doing this for so long that he knew exactly what would go unnoticed by a wealthy man like the Count. Likely, he would assume that the jewelry was lost through the act of traveling here from Castle Town.

By the time a serving maid came into the tent, searching for those towels, Link had already gathered a neatly folded pile in his arms. He pulled down his scarf and flashed his most charming grin at the girl. “Not to worry, dear,” he said. “The Count sent me in here to retrieve them.”

The girl pulled the towels from Link’s hands with a relieved smile, and Link slipped out of the tent after her without a single glance thrown his way by any of the other dinner attendees. His pockets and his stomach were heavier, and his heart was lighter. At least something good had come from that invitation.

He took a circuitous route back to his camp, making sure to be seen by a large number of people so he would have an airtight alibi should the Count go looking for his missing jewelry. He had it all down to a science at this point.

When he finally returned to his tent, many of the campfires in the exchange had been left to die, and only the hardcore carousers were still awake. Link patted the flank of his new horse, fed him some apples from his saddlebags, and then bent to crawl into his tent for the night.

He felt the intruder before he saw them. There was another presence tucked in the corner of his tent, trying unsuccessfully to hide a lamp under a blanket so as not to be seen. Link had a knife pulled from his boot and was halfway across the tent when a familiar voice cried, “Wait! It’s me! It’s me!”

Link froze in his tracks, his heart hammering out a drumbeat in his ears. “Goddesses, Zelda, you scared the hell out of me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth, wishing he could take back the way he just swore in front of the princess, but she didn’t give him any grief for it. Before she could say anything, he slid the knife back into his boot and asked, “What are you doing here?”

Zelda uncovered the lamp, sending a dim yellow glow over the tent that was far too cramped for someone like her. Not to mention messy. His bedroll was unmade, a couple of his saddlebags had been strewn haphazardly against the side of the tent, his dirty clothes were rolled up in a pile in the corner, and…and…

And his Lost Bandit cloak was clutched between Zelda’s trembling fingers.

Link locked eyes with the princess, who glared at him so fiercely he was surprised he wasn’t turned into dust on the spot.

He was so busted.

“What is this?” Zelda asked, raising the cloak toward Link. 

Link settled cautiously into a crouch, ready to leap from the tent should she show any signs of wanting to call for his arrest. He would have to leave his one tent behind, but he could probably grab a couple of bags before hightailing it back to the Lost Woods. He was perfectly positioned to make an escape.

But he would hear her out first. 

“It’s…your cloak,” he said, trying to play it cool. Maybe she was just angry that he had never returned it? “Remember? You gave it to me on the night I—”

“Link, don’t be coy.” She shook out the cloak and held it above her head so that the imprint of the Korok leaf was clearly visible. Link cursed himself for ever wanting a symbol to designate himself as the Lost Bandit. “This cloak? Really? You’ve been using my cloak for this?”

“For what?”

She lurched across the tent faster than Link anticipated and seized the tip of his ear, pinching it between her fingers hard enough to make him wince. “You should have told me the second you saw me that you were the Lost Bandit. Are you really this stupid? What if I had alerted my father that you’re the Hero of Hyrule without knowing your secret identity? Hm?” 

She yanked his ear, then slapped a frustrated hand across his chest. “You’re an idiot, Link! You could have gotten yourself killed! And coming here? Are you kidding me?” She shook him by the ear, rattling his head. 

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop! Shit, Zelda, OW!” 

He tried to twist his ear from her grip, but she held on tighter. He reached for her wrist to pry her off, and their movements turned into a small tussle that ended with Link pinning one of Zelda’s hands against his own chest while she mercilessly hit him with his own cloak in her other hand.

“Do you want someone to hear us?” Link finally hissed. She hesitated, and he took the opportunity to rip the cloak from her fingers and seize her other wrist. “You need to stop hitting me.”

Zelda bared her teeth at him and sent her heel into his stomach. His breath burst from his mouth, and he bent over with a groan, releasing her wrists. 

“You clearly haven’t been hit enough,” Zelda snapped. 

Link blinked the stars from his eyes and forced his breath down his lungs. “Okay,” he wheezed. “Okay, I deserved that one.”

“You need to tell me the truth, right now.”

“The truth about what?” 

Zelda raised her hand to strike him again, but he held his palms up in surrender. “I’ll tell you anything, I swear! I just need you to be a little more specific.”

Zelda’s nostrils flared in the dim lamplight. She seemed to deliberate on her questions. Finally, she asked, “Did you steal the Master Sword?”

Link’s eyes widened. “Of course not!”

“Link.”

“I swear, I didn’t. It was in a glade in the Lost Woods. I hadn’t been able to pull it for the last several years, but I was able to get it out of its pedestal before I joined the tournament. That’s the real story. I’m telling the truth.”

“Did you know what it was when you drew it?”

“No. I knew it was probably magic, but that’s it. The Deku Tree isn’t exactly forthcoming with information.”

Zelda’s breath left her lips, and she lowered her hands. “You actually spoke to the Deku Tree? The ancient spirit of the Lost Woods?”

Link nodded. “I can take you there when this is all over. I can prove it.”

Zelda glanced around the meager tent and inhaled very slowly. Likely to calm herself down. Link was grateful for it, as his ear still hurt. 

“You’ve been the Lost Bandit this whole time.” She didn’t say it as a question, but Link nodded anyway. 

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Link admitted. “I hadn’t seen you in five years. I didn’t even plan on talking to you that first night…I had no idea what you knew about me. And when I saw you…all I wanted to do was kiss you.”

Despite her indignation, Zelda’s cheeks pinked. 

“And then,” Link continued, his stomach twisting into knots, “well…you were so much more perfect than I had ever imagined. You’ve grown so much…and I’m far from the boy you left in the castle dungeons, Princess. I’m not…” He cleared his throat. He considered downplaying everything he’d done, trying to make it into something smaller than it was. But Zelda deserved better than that. “I’ve caused more violence than you think. I’ve…I’ve hurt people, and I’ve done some really, really dangerous things. I didn’t want you to look at me differently. I didn’t want… you to see a monster when you saw me.”

Link chewed on his lower lip, unsure if he should continue talking, feeling like his explanation was not nearly enough. When she didn’t respond, Link began to reach for her, but hesitated. “Do you…um…do you plan to turn me in?”

Zelda’s head fell into her hands, and she let out a groan of frustration that Link felt in his very bones. “No. I don’t think I am.”

Relief flooded him so acutely that he nearly collapsed onto his bedroll.

“But, Link, you have no idea how complicated this makes things. Duke Ghirahim has been obsessing over you. Just last month he proposed that the crown allocate half of the royal guard to him to utilize in a manhunt for you. My father refused, so the Duke has turned to hiring mercenaries. You have hundreds of people out looking for you. If you’re revealed as the hero…I can’t promise I can control what will become of you.”

Link pulled his hand back and ran it over his hair, smearing some coal dust over his palm in the process. “When has my life been anything other than complicated?” he laughed humorlessly. He let the silence sit between them for a moment, and then asked, “Now that you know what I am — who I am — I understand if you never want to see my face again.”

Zelda sighed and closed her eyes. “The Lost Bandit has caused plenty of grief to the nobility and has made life hell for those in charge of legislation, myself included. Everyone has a different idea of how to deal with you, and nobody seems to care about the problem of the nobility overtaxing their citizens, refusing to allocate funds to the poor, or anything else. You are the primary topic of every council meeting, and it has driven me and my father to the edges of our patience and sanity.”

Link’s shoulders slumped, and he passed a palm over his face. Misery seized him. Of course his actions could not be overlooked by her. Of course she would despise him after learning of his identity. He could only fall to his knees and thank the goddesses that she at least had the heart not to turn him in yet. 

Gentle fingers touched his forehead, prompting him to look up. He was met with the silver-limned eyes of his most beloved. 

“That being said,” she continued, her voice softening. “You…you are the only one holding the line against the ruination of Hyrule’s poorest citizens. While my father flounders, trying to find proof of embezzlement against nobility who have much more power over him than you might think, you are doing the work of making sure those thieves do not see the fruits of their labor. I would award you with a knighthood if I could, Link. You have done more for my subjects in five years than I can ever hope to do in my entire lifetime.” 

Link’s lips parted in shock. “You really believe that?”

Her hands framed his jaw, tiling his face toward hers. “Of course I believe that, Link. Knowing that it’s you I’ve been admiring all this time…It just makes me that much happier that you’re the one I’m meant to partner with in all of this.”

Link’s throat burned, and he swallowed to keep himself from losing his cool completely. “Really?”

“Really.” 

“Even after everything I’ve done?”

Her eyes tightened with concern as the reports of his various crimes no doubt flashed through her mind. But her words assuaged his fears. “It’s strange, I’ll admit. I never thought my sweet, demure childhood best friend would be capable of such things.” Her thumb traced down his cheek, and Link had the strange feeling that she was trying to imagine what he used to look like, with the baby fat in his cheeks and the cherubic look in his eyes. No doubt he appeared very different to her now. Nearly a stranger. She bent closer and whispered, “But at the same time, it does not surprise me in the slightest.”

He tilted his head to kiss her, but she dug her fingers into his cheeks to hold him steady. She narrowed her eyes at him in the way that always put him completely at her mercy. “I hope you know I’m still absolutely furious with you,” she said. 

“I have no doubt,” he replied. “I do deserve it.”

“And my actions from here on out are not an indication that my anger has cooled.”

Link had to work his jaw very hard to contain a small smile. “I will not read between any lines, I swear.”

“Good.”

She kissed him, softer than she had last night, her lips sliding across his like he was a porcelain statue. He straightened to meet her, his skin bursting into flames in every place they touched. Every kiss between them seemed precious, a jewel stolen just for him. He did not know what would happen at the end of this tournament, if he would even win the chance to court her like he wanted to. He didn’t know what would happen when Zelda finally told her father that he was to be proclaimed the Hero of Hyrule. He could be facing anything from parades and accolades to the end of a hanging rope. 

His kisses stuttered at the idea, but Zelda pressed forward, scooting closer until she was practically sitting in his lap. He wound his arms around her waist and tugged her against him, losing his thoughts in the soft shape of her lips. The time for worrying would come later. And later would be upon them much sooner than he would like. For now, he just wanted to be here, with Zelda, her breath warm, her pulse pounding in time with his own. 

When they broke apart, he did not let her pull away. Instead, his lips climbed down her cheek, across the soft curve of her jaw, toward her pointed ear. He was half tempted to bite her there, just as payback for the way she had pinched his own ear, but he decided to be gentle instead, sealing his lips over her pulse on the side of her neck. 

“I will be in so much trouble if I’m found like this,” Zelda sighed. Despite her words, she craned her neck to the side to give him better access. 

Link moved his lips over the curve between her neck and shoulder and just barely resisted the urge to suck a bruise into her skin. He smirked as the reality of their situation hit him. “Not only are you out of your tent, but you’re being thoroughly kissed by the most wanted criminal in all of Hyrule.” 

Zelda caught his face in her hands and pulled his mouth back up to hers. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

Soon, the tent was filled only with the sounds of their soft sighs and quiet moans as they kissed each other into oblivion. By the time Zelda climbed off Link’s lap, he had been lavished with at least three love bites on his neck and shoulders, and he pouted that he didn’t get to return the favor. 

“You’ve got that scarf,” Zelda teased as she ran a finger through her hair to comb out the tangles Link had created with his hands. “My dresses are much more revealing.”

“I’ll be sure to use that to my advantage later— ouch!” Link’s teasing words were cut off when Zelda flicked him on the nose. 

She made to crawl toward the tent flap, but she stopped and turned to look over her shoulder. “Oh, I forgot the whole reason I came here. I brought a sword. It’s under your bedroll. I made sure it didn’t belong to anyone who would miss it, but I would still find something to disguise the crossguard so nobody recognizes it.”

Link grinned at her. “What would I do without you?”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Probably get yourself killed. It’s a miracle you’ve survived this long.”

He moved to crouch next to her and stuck his head outside the tent to make sure the coast was clear. “Will you be alright getting back to your tent?”

Zelda nodded. “If I’m caught, it just means a tighter leash for me tomorrow.”

Link took Zelda’s hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. He wished he could give her something. Anything. She had already provided so much, had forgiven him for more than he deserved. He pressed one last kiss to her lips, as a goodbye. 

“I’ll try my best to win again tomorrow,” he promised her. “And I am sorry, truly, for keeping the truth from you. I should have told you the moment I saw you.”

Zelda squeezed his hand. “You split an arrow in two today, Link. I have no doubt you’ll win all three competitions without breaking a sweat. And I do forgive you. On the condition that you do not keep any more secrets from me.”

Link nodded his assent. 

Zelda pulled open the tent flap. 

And stifled a scream in her palm. 

Link yanked the tent flap open to see what had startled her, but all he could see were his ever-present Korok companions, having returned from playing games in the surrounding woods. They waddled toward the tent with giggles and ringing bells, but nothing else seemed to be amiss. 

“What is it?” he asked, pulling her back inside the tent. 

“What—what are those things?” Her voice was shrill when she spoke. 

“What things?”

Zelda pulled the tent flap aside again and pointed. “Those! Those—creatures!”

Link looked back out, only to find the Koroks had gotten closer, their leafy smiles brightening at the sight of his face.
“Link!” one of them screeched. 

“Guess who won our game tonight?” another called. 

Link slowly turned his gaze back on Zelda. “You mean…the Koroks?”

Zelda had pressed herself against his side, but her expression was more curious than frightened. “Do you know them?”

“Do you see them?”

“How could I not? There are nearly a dozen! And…what are they?”

Link was so caught off guard by the fact that Zelda was gazing at his woodland companions that she had to shake his shoulder to get his attention again. “Link, what are these things?”

Link couldn’t help his laugh of wonder. “They’re forest spirits from the Lost Woods. They make their home with the Deku Tree, but they’re all over Hyrule. Up until now, I’ve been the only one who can see them.”

Zelda’s mouth fell open in shock. “So…they must be connected to the goddess. If you and I are the only ones able to witness them.”

Link shrugged. “I guess so. But I don’t think it’s the boon you’re thinking it is. They’re annoying little shits.”

He froze at the curse, sending a sideways glance to Zelda, but she only laughed. She watched the woodland spirits through the gap in the tent for a few seconds longer. “I think they’re sweet.”

“Great,” Link joked. “Maybe they can follow you around for a change.”

Zelda turned to him, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him into one last kiss. “I expect to learn more about them and the Lost Woods later.”

“I’ll work on my report,” he promised. 

With that, she slipped out of the tent and made off toward the other end of the camp, leaving her taste in Link’s mouth and her smell on his clothes. The Koroks waved to her as she passed by them, and she sent a very princess-like wave back. 

Link flopped back onto his bedroll and heaved a great sigh. Joining this tournament was turning out to be one of the best ideas he’d ever had in his life. 

Chapter Text

Link tugged down the edge of his face scarf just enough to fill his mouth with a swig of lukewarm, unrefreshing water. No one seemed to be paying him much attention, as all of the competitors were much too focused on predicting the events of the second day to size up their opponents.  

The contestants had been divided into groups of five and given time to strategize for…something. The event had been kept a secret from them, and only the roar of the crowd overhead gave any indication of what they would be facing. The groups were kept in a waiting room below the coliseum, where most of them took to polishing their swords or taking practice swings in the middle of the wide dirt floor. 

Link had no idea how the groupings were sorted out, but the four others he was matched with seemed competent enough. Three of them were Hylians: a royal guard named Pipit, a farmer from Akkala named Dovos, and a blacksmith from Castle Town named Gondo. The fifth member of their band was a Goron who introduced himself as Daruk. He, like Revali, wore a bright blue sash across his chest, marking him as one of Hyrule’s chosen champions. He had not participated in the archery contest yesterday, but he had been permitted to join today’s festivities to display his skills to the kingdom. He immediately brought the group together with a jovial grin and a loud, trumpet-like laugh that broke any tension that might have been brewing between the contestants. 

None of them had any idea what they would be facing up there, so they inventoried their individual skills and made as many plans of action as they could. Link was competent in his fighting abilities, but his leadership and communication left much to be desired after five years of speaking with no one but the Koroks. He was grateful that Daruk seemed to be the take-charge type. 

They were not the last group to be called, but the pool of contestants had dwindled significantly by the time they were ready to take center stage. Link was just glad that the Duke had not been placed on his team. More time in close quarters with his archenemy just meant more opportunities for his ruse to be discovered. 

The coliseum roared with noise as the five of them stepped, blinking, into the sunlight. Link’s fingers itched to pull the new sword from his back, but he forced himself to remain calm, his head held high. He had wrapped the sword’s hilt and crossguard in strips of black fabric. Between that, his black cloak, and his black Sheikah outfit, he was sure he looked more like a shade than a competitor. 

“Our next group contains the winner of yesterday’s archery contest!” an announcer bellowed as the group spread out in a line and walked toward the center of the arena. “It is yet to be seen whether having this winner among their ranks will be a boon or not! He can handle his bow, but how well can he handle a sword?”

Link wasn’t opposed to a little showmanship every now and then, so he drew his sword and flipped it in his hands a couple of times to show that he was just as confident going into this round as he had been with the archery competition. He had been trained by the Sheikah for the last several years of his life, and he was confident in his skills with a blade. If only he knew what they were going up against. 

As if in answer, the announcer directed the audience’s attention to the far side of the coliseum, where a large wooden door had been erected over a wide opening. 

“And what will this plucky group be facing off against today?”

On either side of Link, the four others drew their weapons. They would not be fighting each other, at least. Would it be another group of contestants? A group of trained knights? Something worse?

The wooden door slid upward. A hush fell over the crowd, and Link felt his skin grow cold. 

A growl from the darkness sent the contestants taking a step back. 

Something worse, indeed. 

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good, ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer called. “What will the creature be?”

A column of flame erupted from the opening, spewing more than halfway across the arena in one searing blast. Link dove to the right with Pipit, while Daruk, Gondo, and Dovos rolled to the left. Link’s cloak narrowly avoided getting singed. He flapped it in the air to make sure no sparks had snagged the fabric. 

The flame disappeared, and their opponent stepped into the ring. Strong, clawed hands. Heavy hoofbeats. A gaping maw. Beady red eyes. 

“A lynel!” the announcer shouted. 

Gasps of surprise and even a few screams of terror rippled through the audience. Link’s stomach plummeted. It was not just a lynel. It was a white-maned lynel. One of the more fearsome versions of this beast, outmatched only by the rarely-seen silver lynel. 

It was five against one, but still, the odds didn’t look good.

Daruk’s voice carried over the arena, shouting orders to the group. “Spread out! Keep it occupied, and sneak around from behind when it’s distracted!”

Right. He had to move. He shoved Pipit’s shoulder, sheathing his sword at his back as he did so, they both broke into a dead sprint toward the outer edge of the coliseum. Link wasn’t sure if he wanted the Lynel to follow them, but it did anyway, drawn by their movements. It reached back and pulled a club from over its shoulder with claws that blinked in the sunlight overhead

This was not going to go over easily.

“He’s headed this way!” Pipit screeched, redoubling his speed.

Link hit him on the shoulder. “On the count of three, we split, okay? Make him hesitate so the others can get him from behind.”

Pipit nodded. Link wasted no time. “One, two, three!”

Link dug his heels into the ground and skidded to a hasty stop while Pipit sent a burst of energy through his feet and peeled away. Link turned on the ball of his foot and began running the other direction. Sweat trickled down his neck. Despite the winter cold, he found himself wishing he could rid himself of his cloak.

“Hold it steady!” Daruk’s voice boomed over the arena, and Link risked a glance over his shoulder. The lynel had chosen to come after him. Why did he decide to do this again?

“Son of a bitch,” he spat, then drew his sword from his back and skidded to a stop. The others wouldn’t get a chance to pounce if he continued to lead the lynel on a wild goose chase. He squared his feet and turned to face the approaching beast, raising his blade between them. 

The lynel charged toward Link, its meaty fists swinging the club back and forth hard enough to send gusts of air billowing around Link’s cloak. He held his ground, sword angled toward the beast’s chest. His teammates had not yet circled back around. They could not afford to have the lynel veer off course.

The lynel’s hooves pounded into the ground louder than a drumbeat, each one vibrating up Link’s legs. Closer. Close enough to see the whites of its eyes. Then—

Whoosh. The lynel’s fiery breath blasted from its maw before Link even saw it take a breath. He yelped and dove to the side, rolling to the ground to avoid being singed. A puff of dust exploded around him from the impact, blinding him enough that a bolt of fear raced down his spine. Where was the lynel? Was it—

“Watch out!”

Link rolled to his feet just as something slammed into the lynel’s massive body from the side. The lynel hit the wall of the coliseum and sent chunks of debris raining down around the vicinity. From within the cloud of dust, Link could see a bright orange glow emanating from the body of the Goron Champion.

“That’s how it’s done, little guy!” Daruk laughed. He curled into a ball and rolled away from the lynel. He came to a stop beside Link, and they both watched as the lynel shoved itself away from the destroyed coliseum wall and shook its head like a dog.

“What did you do?” Link asked, incredulous.

“Just a special trick I’ve got up my sleeve,” Daruk answered with a hearty laugh.

The lynel fixed its beady eyes on the two of them, and Link decided he didn’t need to ask any more questions.

“Looks like it’s got a vendetta!” Daruk shouted. The next thing Link knew, his Goron companion had rolled into a ball again and disappeared.

The lynel charged after Daruk with clear hatred in its eyes. Link watched the Goron move, impressed by his speed, and was only distracted by the sight of Gondo and Dovos desperately trying to find an opening to attack the lynel from behind. It was just too fast for either of them to get an edge.

Link sheathed his sword and tore across the arena toward them, an idea springing into his head. How many times had he played similar games with the Koroks, flipping them around tree branches and trying to get them to land in specific spots at certain times? This couldn’t be much different…he hoped.

“Daruk!” Link shouted at the rolling ball of rock. “Lead it to us!”

He hoped the Goron got the message as he skidded to a stop in front of the two burly men. “I need—” he gasped, doubling over in an attempt to regain his breath, “I need you to throw me.”

“What?” Dovos asked, incredulous.

“Give me a boost!”

Unsure what else to do, Gondo and Dovos turned to face each other and held out their palms. Following Link’s suggestion, Daruk was leading the lynel in a long arc, and he would be passing by the three gathered comrades in mere seconds.

“When it gets close, lift me up before you duck for cover.” Link sent a quick prayer to the goddess that the lynel would remain too distracted by Daruk to swing its club toward the blacksmith and the farmer. “If I miss, get back together and I’ll meet up to try again.”

Link turned to look over his shoulder toward Pipit, who was jogging up to meet them. “Be ready to give support!”

Pipit nodded and drew his own sword just as Daruk went whizzing by the two other Hylians. Link watched the lynel’s approach for half a second, calculating, and then broke into a dead sprint toward Gondo and Dovos.

One, two, three, four, five steps — he bent his knees and sprang forward. One boot landed in their outstretched palms. Their combined strength lifted him up, and suddenly he was soaring, careening upward and forward, right toward the monster’s head.

He was going to miss. He was going to land directly on the thing’s head, it was going to bite his foot off, he was going to—

He slammed against the lynel’s back hard enough to send sparks dancing in his eyes. He let out a string of curses that would have sent the Koroks running if they were here, but forced himself to dig his fingers into the lynel’s spine and pull himself onto the beast’s back.

Just like riding a horse. A wild, dangerous horse with fire-breath and claws that could rip my face off and—oh, shit.

The lynel skidded to a stop, nearly flinging Link off its back, and then began to roar and buck in a vain attempt to fling its unexpected rider. Link plunged his hand into the lynel’s silver mane, drew the sword from his back, and conked the beast right on the top of its head with the sword’s pommel.

“Now!” he screamed in what he hoped was the general vicinity of his team. The lynel huffed and swayed, but before it could regain its bearings, three swords bore down on it from all angles. Pipit stabbed his blade into the lynel’s flank, Dovos drove a claymore toward its belly, and Gondo went straight for the heaving torso. In the distance, Daruk turned around and began making his way toward the group. Link angled his sword toward the lynel’s neck, ready to deal the killing blow.

The lynel reached behind its head, hooked its claws into Link’s shoulder, and tore him from its back. Pain exploded along Link’s arm, and he cried out as he was flung to the dirt.

The monster raised itself up onto its back legs, front hooves flying, and Link closed his eyes, preparing for the end.

A loud, bell-like chime echoed through the arena, ringing in Link’s ears. The impact of the hooves never came. Instead, Link opened his eyes to see Daruk, his body glowing with some sort of orange shield, swinging a giant club toward the lynel’s face. It smacked the monster backward with a sickening crunch. The other three jumped back, but there was no need. The lynel was dead.

It disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, leaving nothing behind but the blood on the weapons of the five warriors.

Daruk turned to Link with a smile. “That was a close one, little guy!”

He reached to help Link up, but Link was a little more focused on the raw and bleeding gashes that were currently pouring fire directly into his veins. He tilted his head back and groaned. He had forgotten to pack more fairies in his bag.

His winning streak was going to end on the second day. 

“Congratulations!” the announcer called into the arena. “You have defeated your monster! Scores will be tallied, and the rankings for the final day of the tournament will be announced tomorrow morning!”

Link didn’t care. If he didn’t get some sort of healing magic, there was no way he would make it through the next portion of the tournament. He might as well call it quits.

“Nice job out there,” he managed to grunt to Daruk between clenched teeth. The Goron helped him to his feet with surprising gentleness, despite his size.

“Don’t worry, little guy,” Daruk said. “The royal medics should be able to get you fixed up in no time.”

But Link knew he couldn’t go to them. He was already risking too much being here in disguise. All it took was one person to recognize him, either as Link or as the Lost Bandit, and he would be a goner. The best he could do was run back to the Lost Woods with his tail between his legs and pray that he would find another way to help the princess. 

His group walked back to the coliseum exit, where they were welcomed by the other competitors who had gone before them. Shouts of congratulations and cheers were thrown by both the contestants and the audience, but the sound was muffled in Link’s ears. His vision swam as more blood dripped down the length of his arm. 

“You’re not looking too good, little guy,” Daruk said. “You need help getting to the medics?”

Link waved a hand in dismissal. “No, I’m fine.” 

The announcement of the next group was his saving grace. As those surrounding him turned to observe what monster the next competitors would be facing, Link took the opportunity to disappear into the crowd.

— — —

Link was halfway through packing his provisions back into his saddlebags when he glimpsed two hooded figures approaching his campsite. He pulled his scarf back over the lower half of his face, wincing when his poorly-bandaged arm rubbed against the fabric of his tunic, and warily watched them approach. It was the middle of the night. Link had not stuck around long enough to find out how well everyone else had fared, and he had spent most of the evening painstakingly attempting to staunch the bleeding in his arm – to little effect.

Link did not reach for his weapons as the two visitors drew near, seeing as they did not arrive with a contingent of soldiers to arrest him. It was possible that it was simply two well-meaning audience members trying to track him down and give him their congratulations. Still, he positioned himself close enough to grab his new sword should it come to blows.

The taller of the two figures slowed to a stop, and a pale hand reached out to pull the second one up short as well. A familiar voice called out behind the cloak’s hood. “Are you planning on leaving?”

Link let out a slow breath. “Princess?”

In answer, Zelda lowered her hood, exposing her long golden tresses and a glare that could melt iron.

Link took a cautious step back and nodded toward the second figure. “And…who is this?”

The second figure lowered their hood, and Link nearly stumbled over the Koroks at his feet. Red scales, soft yellow eyes, a kind and gentle smile.

“Mipha,” Link breathed. He hadn’t seen her since he was a kid, when she came to visit on a diplomatic mission from the Zora kingdom. Link’s father had been assigned to guard the Zora visitors and often brought his son along as a playmate for the young princesses. Mipha had grown into a regal and powerful figure, just as Zelda had. Beneath her hood, Link could see the edge of a bright blue sash over her shoulder, marking her as another one of Hyrule’s champions.

Link didn’t know whether to swing onto his horse and run away or sink to one knee before the princesses. The indecision left him gaping openly at the two of them.

Zelda moved forward, breaking the silence. “We need to work quickly. Come, Mipha.”

She grabbed Link's uninjured arm and lowered herself to the ground, tugging him down with her. Slowly, mechanically, he sank to his knees. Mipha joined him on his other side.

“Wh-What’s going on?” Link asked, incredulous. Zelda’s fingers unbound the ties of his cloak and pushed it off his shoulders, allowing a chill to brush across his skin. He was too confused to protest.

“I need to give you information about tomorrow,” Zelda said.

Link’s eyebrows pinched together. “I can’t fight tomorrow. You saw what happened to my arm.”

Mipha’s voice finally filled the space between them, quiet but confident. “That’s why she brought me along. I’m here to heal you.”

Link could only blink stupidly at her as Zelda reached for the hem of his tunic and began to pull it over his head. It took both her and Mipha several long seconds, but eventually his bare skin was exposed to the chilly winter air. Link bit back a curse when his eyes landed on the linens, already soaked through with blood. 

“You should not have been injured like this,” Zelda began as Mipha began to unwind his terrible bandaging job. “Your team faced the fiercest monster by far, and I fear there may have been foul play involved.”

“What do you mean?” Link asked, grimacing through the pain of Mipha pulling the bloodstained linens from his arm.

“You did not do a very good job with this,” Mipha commented.

Link snorted. “It’s not like I could have gone to the medics. I did the best I could.”

“Link, you need to listen to me,” Zelda interjected. She cupped his jaw and pulled his gaze back to hers. “The other groups faced nothing worse than two Moblins in the competition today.”

“What?” Link exclaimed. “That’s not fair!”

“Exactly,” she responded. “When I asked around, no one knew why you were made to fight the lynel. It was a last-minute change. It was brought over by the royal guards from their military training camp nearby, and there seems to have been a lot of money disseminated among the tournament runners, with none of them willing to say where they got it.”

Link scowled. “The Duke.”

Zelda nodded. “My thoughts exactly. I don’t believe he knows your true identity, but he certainly has a vendetta against you for beating him in the archery tournament yesterday. And after your success today, you have an even bigger target on your back. You have to be aware of everything around you.”

Link opened his mouth to defend himself, because of course he’d been watching his back, but his attention was drawn away when Mipha placed a hand over his wound.

“Ouch!” Link protested. He nearly ripped his arm from Mipha, but she held tightly, and a soft white glow began to emanate between her fingers. Suddenly, Link’s wound began to grow itchy and hot.

Link couldn’t contain his shock. “You were able to figure out your healing powers after all?” he asked, remembering her determination as a child to perfect her magic.

Mipha nodded. “It’s a good thing, too. You would not have had use of this arm tomorrow if Princess Zelda had not summoned me.” She raised her eyes to Link. “Do not worry about my presence here. I will keep your secrets. Zelda has already informed me about your being chosen as the Hero of Hyrule.”

Link swung his incredulous gaze back to Zelda, who wore an expression of determination. “This is bigger than us all, Link,” Zelda said. “We need every ally we can get, especially with the other discovery I made.”

Link blinked in surprise. “How much did you get done while I was having my ass handed to me by a lynel?”

Zelda huffed, and he couldn’t tell if it was in annoyance or trepidation. “I actually spent the majority of the day trying to figure out the best way to reveal you as the hero, absolve you of your crimes, and convince my father to allow us to work together against the Calamity. You are not an easy case to defend.” 

Link chewed his cheek in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

Zelda waved a dismissive hand. “Part of our plan will involve discrediting the Duke, who is your primary adversary. I did some…unsanctioned digging into his personal finances, and…well…I discovered that the Duke has been giving money to the Yiga clan.”

“The Yiga?” Link gasped, jolting enough that Mipha scratched his arm. He hissed. The Zora princess shot him an unamused glance, and he grimaced back apologetically.

“Yes, the Yiga,” Zelda continued. “If my assumptions are correct, the Duke is heavily involved with the people trying to bring about the Calamity’s destruction. So, not only are you his enemy as the boy who escaped his sentencing, but you are also his enemy as the Lost Bandit, his enemy in the tournament, and his enemy as the Hero of Hyrule.”

Link ran a hand across his face. “Great. Like he needed another reason to hate my guts.”

“That’s why I’m slowly bringing in the champions as allies. They will be able to vouch for you and hopefully stand between you and the Duke if anything should go awry while I come up with the best plan of action.”

“Why don’t I just leave the tournament? I can wait in the Lost Woods until you have something better formulated.”

Zelda shook her head. “The Duke scored the highest in the games today, with you only barely falling behind.”

“That son of a bitch scored higher than me? After I helped kill that monster?” Link spat. “What, did he buy his scores, too? I’d like to have a word with the judges on that one.”

“Link, you need to set your ego aside for a moment,” Zelda warned. He rolled his eyes, but huffed out a breath and gestured for her to continue. She placed a calming hand over his and said, “If the Duke wins the tournament, I will be obligated to give him a chance to court me.” The statement made all three of them wrinkle their noses in disgust.

“He will secure a cash prize,” she continued, “and he will have an opportunity to claim the title as the Hero of Hyrule. No one knows that you’ve drawn the Master Sword except us. This tournament has been publicly touted as a way to scope out the man most likely to become the hero. If the Duke claims that title, he will be able to sway nearly all of the council members and other nobility in any sort of legislative decision. Anyone who opposes him will be blackmailed or threatened into conceding. We cannot let him have the victory of being the hero in the eyes of the public.”

Link rubbed his hand over his face in thought. “So why don’t I just march up to the king’s box tomorrow with the Master Sword?”

“Do you remember my first assumption when I found out you were the Lost Bandit?” Zelda countered.

He did. She thought he had stolen the sword. Which, in all honesty, was a fair assumption.

“What if I hide the fact that I’m the Lost Bandit?”

“You’ve helped enough commoners throughout Hyrule that they would know your face. No matter what, word would get out. Plus, your story about finding the Master Sword in a chest in Akkala doesn’t really stand to reason. The primary theory has always been that the Master Sword resides in the Lost Woods, and nobody has been able to navigate inside to reach it.”

Link looked between Zelda and Mipha, helplessness pressing down on him from all sides. “So then…what do I do?”

Zelda breathed out a long, slow breath. “My idea, as it stands, is this: win the tournament. Show all of the nobles that you have what it takes to be the hero. Then, before your identity as the Lost Bandit can be discovered, you can go into Lost Woods and pretend to draw the Master Sword. The sword, along with your victory in the tournament, will help you prove yourself to the nobility. Then, even if you are revealed as the Lost Bandit, my father will have no cause to doubt your claim and he will have no choice but to exonerate your crimes. Plus, your reputation as the Lost Bandit will earn the support of the citizens of Hyrule. The only person who will lose is the Duke.”

Link gritted his teeth as the skin on his arm began to burn hot under Mipha’s touch, but he forced himself to examine Zelda’s plan. “It’s not a bad idea, but it hinges on a lot of things going off perfectly. There’s no guarantee I can win the tournament tomorrow. I don’t even know what I’ll be doing.”

“It’s paired duels,” Mipha said. “Your opponents will be assigned based on your ranks from the previous days. Each contestant will fight in three rounds and will be scored on how quickly he disarms his opponent. The player with the top combined scores from all three days will be declared the winner.”

She pulled her hands away from Link’s arm, revealing baby pink skin that showed no trace of his previous injury. Link rolled his shoulder experimentally, swung his elbow back and forth, and gave Mipha a grateful, if not incredulous, smile. “That’s amazing.”

She blushed and lowered her head. “It’s nothing.”

Zelda cleared her throat to get Link’s attention, and he whirled to face her.

“You can duel, can’t you?” Zelda asked.

Link nodded. “Yeah, I can duel fine. I learned from the Sheikah warriors in Kakariko.”

“He’ll have no problem winning over Impa’s approval,” Mipha interjected.

Zelda took hold of Link’s hand and squeezed it between both of hers. “You need to win tomorrow. Everything else can be left to me. Just focus on beating your opponents. And watch your back. You have no idea how many people the Duke can get on his side. And…I would advise you to not leave your Lost Bandit cloak out for anyone walking into your tent to see.” She gave him a look, and Link’s face burned red.

After assuring herself that Link’s arm had been fully healed, Mipha rose to her feet, and Link and Zelda followed.

“Thank you,” Link said, glancing between the two of them. “I owe you both so much.”

Mipha waved a hand. “I am grateful that you are the one chosen by the goddess, questionable life choices aside. You are the heart and soul of Hyrule.”

With that, she raised her hood, turned, and walked away from Link and the princess.

Zelda’s hand on Link’s arm drew his attention back to her. “Will you be alright tomorrow?”

Link nodded. “I will now. Thanks for bringing Mipha here.”

“Were you planning on running away?”

Link scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Not so much running away as…planning a strategic retreat. I was going to hide out in the Lost Woods again until I could find a way to contact you about this whole hero business. I didn’t think I could win the tournament with the state of my arm.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “No, I suppose you couldn’t.”

Feeling bold, Link stretched his hand out and cupped her cheek in his palm. “I wasn’t going to abandon you again, though. I promise, I had every intention of returning for you.”

“I would have tracked you down if you didn’t,” Zelda said. She reached up and tapped a spot on his shoulder, right where it sloped to meet his neck. “Surprised Mipha didn’t mention these.”

Link’s fingers went to his neck, and mortification made his face heat. He had forgotten all about the bruises Zelda had left on his skin with her lips.

Zelda laughed, and Link wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in a fierce hug. “You always did love embarrassing me.”

“I have five years to make up for.” Zelda nuzzled her nose into his bare shoulder, and Link swore he could feel her smile.

Chapter Text

The announcer’s voice rang out over the arena: “Match one, finished!”

Link’s lungs burned in his chest with every searing breath he took. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, sticking his hair to his skin beneath his hood. His blade scraped along the dirt as he bent to catch his breath, the ties of his cloak digging into his windpipe hard enough to nearly choke him. Pipit held a hand over his bloody forearm and flashed Link a surprisingly cheerful smile. 

“Nice work,” Pipit grunted as the announcer called the duel in Link’s favor. “Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that your injury didn’t turn the tides in my favor.”

Link rolled his shoulder back, deciding not to mention the magic that had healed his arm the night before. Instead he held a hand out to Pipit, who shook it with vigor. “You didn’t do so bad yourself,” Link offered. He hoped his eyes conveyed real camaraderie under his lowered hood. 

Pipit trudged off to the coliseum’s exit, hopefully to a healer to treat his various injuries. Link shot a glance up toward the royal box, where Zelda leaned over the edge, doing her best to look bored. Link caught the hint of a smile on her face as he made eye contact with her. It took everything in him not to blow a kiss in her direction. 

One duel down, two more to go. 

He was ushered back down to the waiting area the groups had been sequestered in the day before, where he was given water and a snack to tide him over while he waited for his next duel. A few competitors shot him dirty glances, knowing that he was definitely in the top rankings, if not the number one spot. Link kept his sword close by in case someone tried something he didn’t like. 

Across the room, the Duke was laughing with a few of his fellow nobles, having also won his first duel. A sour taste filled Link’s mouth, and he had to work very hard to swallow down his hunk of bread. He wanted to walk across the room and shove that bastard’s head through the wall. It would certainly solve a lot of his problems very quickly. 

More than an hour later, Link was summoned for his second duel. It was against some royal guard Link hadn’t seen before, and he wasn’t nearly as friendly as Pipit had been. Their swords clashed against one another, once up high, once down low. This man was much stronger than Pipit, and he seemed to want to flaunt it. He brought his sword down with a powerful thrust that twinged Link’s newly-healed shoulder. Link’s boots ground against the dirt as he skidded back a few steps. He did not like being pushed back. 

Link bared his teeth, and his eyes darted up and down the man’s body, looking for an opening. It took him much longer than he would have liked to find one. He danced forward, sliding his sword under the man’s guard, and made a clean slice along the outside of his thigh. First blood was drawn, the fight was called, and Link was escorted back to the waiting room. 

“Nice job, little guy!” Daruk’s voice boomed over the gathered contestants as Link sat down in a secluded corner. The Goron approached Link with a wide smile and stretched his palm out toward him. 

Link shook his massive stony hand with only a hint of uncertainty. Zelda had said that she was gathering allies from among the Champions, but he had no idea which of them were aware of him being the hero. 

“Thanks,” he responded. “Are you dueling, too?”

Daruk waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, that’s not my style. But Urbosa, the Gerudo champion – she’ll be out there. Wouldn’t want to be caught on the other end of that scimitar.”

Link chuckled under his breath. If he were being honest, he didn’t really mind the idea of partnering up with all of these champions. Daruk was fun. He was already friendly with Mipha. Revali could be a pompous ass, but he seemed to have his heart in the right place. He wasn’t sure about Urbosa, but if she was anything like the others, he was sure they would get along just fine. 

He wished he could say so to the champion in front of him, but someone called for Daruk’s attention, and the Goron was drawn away. Link pulled a knee to his chest and watched the Goron greet the other competitors with a small smile on his face. 

As the sun reached its zenith overhead, Link walked into the center of the arena to finish off his last duel. He should have known it would happen, given his luck, but he still couldn’t help the way his breath stuck in his throat as his opponent turned to face him. 

A tall Gerudo woman with a bright, champion-blue skirt and voluminous red hair stared down at him with a raised, assessing eyebrow. 

Urbosa. 

She flashed him a smirk and whirled her scimitar in a circle. “Hey, Hero.” Her voice was teasing, and quiet enough that nobody nearby could pick up what she was saying. “Heard you might be joining our little team soon.”

Link drew his sword from his back and squared off as the announcer prepared to call the beginning of their duel. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. She was way taller than him, all muscle. And she flipped that scimitar with an expertise that came with a lifetime of training. Would he lose right here, to a member of the very group he hoped to be a part of?

“Did the princess tell you?” he asked. He touched his blade to hers, then took three steps back. 

Urbosa shrugged. “She told me enough. But I get to test your mettle for myself.”

“Begin!” the announcer shouted. 

Urbosa swung down toward Link’s head with a power that jarred him. He barely raised his sword in time to catch her swing; sword met scimitar with an almighty clang. Link’s arms trembled under the force of her blow. 

“Nice reflexes,” Urbosa said. He swallowed hard and slid the edge of his blade along hers to give himself room to push back. 

His boots kicked up a cloud of dust as he lunged to her left. She swiped toward his now exposed left side, but he leapt out of the way. She swung to his right side. He batted her blade aside with the flat of his own. She was much faster than he had anticipated, given her height and stature. Fast and powerful could be a lethal combination. 

“Good on your feet,” she noted. 

“What, you thought I wouldn’t be?” Link teased, finding his confidence somewhere in between her fourth swing and her fifth. 

She jabbed toward his head, and he ducked under her guard and thrust his sword toward her exposed stomach. He almost had her then, but her hips swung back, avoiding his attack. Damn. 

“Good eye.”

“Stop judging me.”

“I will do as I please.”

Their blades clashed again, putting Link on the defensive. He danced back one, two, three steps. She was tall, and she liked to keep her blade high, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to get under her guard again. The only issue was how fast she was. He had no way to guarantee that she wouldn’t bring her blade down right onto his head if he went for her torso.

He feinted to her left, but she anticipated it and caught his blade just before it grazed her calf. He resisted the urge to curse. So close. 

“Watch where you’re aiming,” she grinned as she pushed him back. “I don’t want an unsightly scar.”

Link was getting annoyed now. “With Mipha on your team, I don’t think that’s something you’ve got to worry about.”

She swung her scimitar in a wide arc, but he dove to the side and tucked into a roll that allowed him to maneuver behind her. She turned, ready to match his blade, but he was faster. The tip of his sword poked just under her ribs, slicing a shallow gash into her skin. Even though he had drawn blood, he still had to duck down as her blade whooshed over his head, nearly slicing off a few errant strands of hair. 

Urbosa’s nostrils flared when the announcer called the winner. “You’re fast.”

Link shrugged. “Comes with the territory.” 

Urbosa sheathed her scimitar and pressed a hand to her side to staunch the bleeding before it reached her vibrant skirt. “I suppose you’ve earned my blessing. For now.” She held out her free hand toward Link. 

Link took it with a glint in his eye. “Am I supposed to thank you?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

“Then thank you.”

Urbosa smiled. “Be good to my little bird. My blessing can easily be revoked.”

With that, she turned and strutted out of the coliseum, leaving Link to enjoy his victory. 

— — —

He was led back to the waiting room below the coliseum even though he had already won all three of his matches. Perhaps they simply wanted to keep him from the adoring crowd before announcing him as the victor. There was no way he could lost the tournament now, right? Unless the Duke had some other trick up his sleeve. 

The rest of the duels were carried out slowly, and one by one, the pool of contestants dwindled. Soon, Link was the only one left. He paced along the length of the room, rubbing his hands together to calm his nervous energy. Why hadn’t they called him yet? Were they going to bring the royals down here to declare him the winner before announcing him to the crowd? 

His thoughts swirled with fantasies of how he would respond to Zelda should he win the tournament. A large part of him wanted to sweep her into his arms, dip her low to the ground, and kiss her for everyone to see. Another part of him wanted to sink to one knee before her and ask her to marry him. But he knew that he had to play it cool if he wanted Zelda’s plan to go off without a hitch. He had to be slow. Careful. Two things he was not good at being. 

A set of four dancing lights dashed into the room from the open doorway. Link halted, but did not cry out. Instead he sighed as the lights burst into puffs of smoke, revealing four grinning Koroks. 

“We watched you from the stands!” one of them cried, jumping up and down. 

“You’re doing great!” another one interjected. 

Link glanced around to ensure he was truly alone before kneeling down before them. “How’s the competition going? Am I going to win?” 

Chio, one of the Koroks closest to Link, wagged his little limbs. “All the others are almost done! You’re definitely the best of all of them.”

Link had no idea whether that was supposed to be a generalized compliment or an actual assessment of the outcome. He rolled his eyes. 

A guard stepped into the room. Link perked up immediately, jerking to his feet. The Koroks disappeared in flashes of smoke.  

“Follow me,” the guard said, gesturing to the doorway. Link took a step, but the guard shook his head. “Leave your sword behind.”

Link drew it from his back and leaned it up against the wall. Perhaps Zelda had told one of the guards that he had borrowed the sword, and he was simply giving it back. No matter. The Master Sword was his true blade, anyway. 

He followed the guard up the stairs toward the main portion of the arena. His hands were trembling, and he hid them in the folds of his cloak to keep it from showing. He was certainly the winner. Why else would they keep him there? 

The sun was slowly making its way down to the horizon when Link stepped back into the coliseum. The crowds had been roused again for the announcement of the finalist, and they screamed and cheered when he stepped into the arena. 

He expected the announcer to shout his alias, to proclaim him the Hero of Hyrule, to invite the king and the princess down from the royal box to offer him congratulations. 

Instead, the announcer said, “And here we have our second finalist, here to participate in the official tiebreaker match!”

Link’s steps faltered. Tiebreaker? What? Who had tied with him? He had won the first competition. He had gotten second place yesterday. He had won all three of his duels today, and quite handily at that. 

The guard gestured him toward the center of the ring. Link lifted his eyes to his opponent. 

Of course. The Duke of Necluda. Why the hell would it be anyone else? 

On instinct, Link reached over his shoulder for his sword. But his hands met empty air. 

He turned to face the guard who brought him here. “You made me leave my sword downstairs.”

The guard nodded. “Change of rules. Standard-issue weapons for both of you, to ensure a fair fight.”

Another soldier entered the arena with a simple royal guard’s sword in each hand. He handed one off to the Duke, and the other to Link, who hefted the blade experimentally. He took a few practice swipes, just to get the feel of it, then reluctantly turned to face the Duke. 

The Duke stared at him with eyes that screamed confidence. Link wasn’t sure he should meet his gaze for very long, for fear that this monster would recognize him as the scrawny kid that stole his coin purse five years ago. He disguised himself well enough as the Lost Bandit that he was sure there was no risk of being discovered that way. Still, with how often he targeted the Duke, he didn’t exactly like being this close to him. 

“First blood?” Link asked the guard who had handed him his sword. 

The guard shook his head. “Until surrender.”

“What?”

“You duel until your opponent surrenders.”

Link grimaced at the notion. He could hold his own for a long time if he had to, but if he knew anything about the Duke, it was that he was equally stubborn. Likely, they would both beat each other to a pulp before one of them cried off. Sweat slicked Link’s fingers, gathering inside the leather of his fingerless gloves. He swallowed and readjusted his grip on the sword’s unfamiliar hilt. 

The Duke raised his sword with a grin that send a shiver down Link’s spine. “You should forfeit while you have the chance, worm.”

The sound of the Duke’s voice made something feral writhe inside Link. He bared his teeth at the Duke and hefted his own weapon. “You wish.”

They touched their blades together cautiously, then each took three steps back and waited for the beginning to be called. Link glanced up at the royal box. Zelda was gripping the edge of the balcony hard enough to turn her knuckles white. When Link made eye contact with her, she gifted him with the barest hint of a smile, and a nod that said I believe in you. You can do this.

“Begin!”

The Duke bounded forward with surprising spryness considering his age. His body moved like a dancer, well-trained, every move carefully practiced. His sword went straight for Link’s middle. He didn’t care if he killed Link in this duel or not.

Luckily, Link didn’t care if he killed the Duke, either.

Link struck the Duke’s blade with his own and pushed it out of the way. He pressed his offense, striking out in retaliation. Their swords met several times between them, each parrying the other’s blows with relative ease. The sound of clashing metal drowned out the cheering of the crowd around them. It was just him and the Duke.

They both backed off at the same time and returned to staring each other down across the small space between them. Link took a step to the side, and the Duke countered, his heavy boots kicking up clouds of dust in the air. 

The Duke struck out again, and Link reached to meet his blow, but he wasn’t prepared for the feint and ended up floundering enough for the Duke to drag the edge of his blade along the outside of his right thigh. 

The gash burned like hellfire. Link cried out in pain and dropped to one knee as the Duke backed away. He could have pressed his advantage, but the smile on the Duke’s face told Link all he needed to know.

He enjoyed toying with his victims.

“You’re nothing but a brat,” the Duke spat as Link used the hilt of his sword to push himself unsteadily to his feet. Blood was already soaking the outside of his dark pants, hot and wet,  but he could still put pressure on his leg. Somewhat. He growled at the Duke and took a step forward.

The Duke danced around Link, edging to the side. Link kept his eye on the man’s blade and just missed the grab that the Duke made toward his head. 

The Duke’s meaty fist seized the edge of Link’s hood and yanked it backward, jerking Link’s head back alongside it. Link heard the sound of tearing fabric as the hood was ripped from the rest of his cloak. It spared him from being choked by the strings around his neck, and Link thanked the goddess that he could not afford cloaks with thicker fabric. 

The Duke pressed up behind him, bringing his arm around his neck. Before he could grapple him, Link jammed his elbow into the Duke’s gut and twisted around to slide the edge of his sword under the Duke’s ribs. 

Duke Ghirahim hissed in anger. Link grinned and stepped away. He had evened the playing field. 

The Duke’s eyes flew to Link’s face, which was now uncovered, save for the scarf over his nose and mouth.  

The Duke’s eyes flashed in recognition, and Link’s stomach dropped. 

“You,” the Duke growled, raising his blade again. “You’re the little shit who stole my purse.” 

Despite the pain radiating up his thigh and the way his breath seared in his lungs, Link lowered his face scarf and flashed the Duke a cocky grin. “Should’ve killed me when you had the chance.” 

The Duke roared. 

Their swords clashed in the center again. Thrust. Parry. Swing. Jab. Sparks flew from the metal, searing the back of Link’s retinas. 

Clash. Clink. Scrape. It was the longest of all of Link’s duels, and he was beginning to lose some of his confidence. The Duke was a lethal combination of cunning and obstinate, a reflection of Link’s own dueling virtues. They crashed together, they broke apart, they tried to maneuver around one another, and the other always caught the trick.

Link’s tongue was dry in his mouth. He swallowed, trying to find the moisture he so desperately needed. His stamina was running out. 

Link pressed forward, risking himself in order to move around the Duke’s guard and stab him in the chest. But the Duke caught Link’s blade on the cross guard of his own sword and held it there, the bind bringing them in close together.

“You’ll pay for what you did to me,” the Duke growled. Where their swords were locked, Link suddenly felt the Duke’s strength give. Link’s blade shot forward, the tip sliding toward the Duke’s shoulder—

The Duke raised a hand and punched Link squarely in the cheek

Holy Hylia, that hurt like a mother—

“Want to cry off?” the Duke taunted. He had released his grip on his sword and risked his own injury in order to land that blow. The punch had landed on the curve of Link’s cheekbone, swelling up his eye immediately, causing his vision to go blurry with tears. He tasted metal on his tongue. 

A blade glinted in the sunlight, the only warning Link got before the Duke lashed out toward his chest. It was only instinct that had Link raising his hilt and catching the Duke’s blade right before it sank between his ribs.

“I will not,” Link muttered back, and then he descended upon the Duke in a flurry of blows that had the Duke hopping back like a scared bunny. He tore a gash in the Duke’s sleeve, leaving a wound on his upper arm. He grazed the outer edge of his ribs hard enough to make the Duke wince in pain. He needed to end this. Now.

Their swords clashed in a bind near their heads. Each of them pressed their strength into the blades, unwilling to give even the slightest inch. Link had nothing else to lose. To gain a modicum of strength, he placed his gloved palm on the edge of his sword, right where their blades crossed, and pressed with both hands. The sword dug into his palm, producing a bloody gash, but the maneuver was working. The extra strength edged the crossed swords toward the Duke’s face.

The Duke jerked back, straightening his arms, putting more space between them. Link sneered, thinking he had nearly won.

In the sunlight overhead, Link noticed the dents in his blade for the first time. While the Duke’s sword was still sharp and clean as a whistle, Link’s sword was covered in blemishes and scratches, an old blade that had not been well-maintained. And it was bending a little too much. 

He realized what was about to happen with just enough time to push himself from the path of the Duke’s blade.

Link’s sword snapped in two with a quiet clink — too soft to be heard over the roar of the crowd. The top half of his sword fell to the dirt between their feet. 

The unexpected snap allowed the Duke to shove Link back, leaving him with nothing but a hilt and a two-inch blade sticking out the top. 

Link gaped at the sword. How had—that wasn’t—

He raised his gaze to the Duke, who grinned like a wolf and said, “Should know better than to use another man’s sword.”

He raised his boot and kicked Link squarely in the stomach. 

Link went flying. His back hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from him. His sword hilt skidded across the dirt. Link began to move immediately, but before he could push himself back to his feet, a heavy, sweaty body materialized over him. The sunlight glinted off a deadly blade above his head. 

“Yield!” the Duke roared, bringing his sword down. Link caught the cross guard on his forearm, the blade just inches from his neck. The jolt seared through his whole body, his arm cracked, and he groaned through clenched teeth as he fought to keep the blade from descending toward his throat. 

“Yield,” the Duke growled again. “You do not have what it takes. You have no sword. You have no way of defeating me.” He pushed his whole body down onto the sword. Link’s arms were trembling so hard that the blade vibrated next to his ear. If his strength faltered, he was a dead man. 

“You sabotaged my sword!” Link accused him. 

“Oh yeah? And who will the monarchy believe? I am the most powerful noble on the council. You are nothing more than a thief, a commoner.” 

The carvings in the hilt dug into Link’s forearm. The Duke’s breath was hot and sour, his body encasing Link on all sides. 

“You will never be a Hero,” the Duke sneered. 

Link kicked him in the groin. 

The Duke howled in anguish and bent forward on impulse, giving Link the perfect opportunity to smash the hilt of the Duke’s own sword right into his nose. 

“Link!”

The cry erupted from many voices at once, all of them high-pitched and accompanied by the jingling of little bells. In a puff of colorful smoke, four Koroks appeared around Link. 

Link shoved the Duke off of him, rolling him to the side as blood started to gush from his broken nose. 

“Use this!” 

Link hardly even looked at the Koroks. His body reacted on instinct. There was a flash, and suddenly a new sword was in his hand, hilt gleaming in the light. 

Link wasn’t sure how he did it, what with the fog in his brain and the swelling in his eye and the blood still seeping from the wound on his thigh, but suddenly he was on top of the Duke, pinning him down at the hips, the edge of his new sword pressed right up under the Duke’s jaw. 

“I am the Hero,” Link seethed. The sword cut into the Duke’s flesh, creating an angry red line that began to trickle down the column of his neck. The Duke choked and spluttered as Link bore down harder. “You will yield to me. ”

The Duke opened his mouth. “I…I y—”

“Seize him!” 

Several hands grabbed Link at once and tore him from the Duke’s prone body. Link yelped and lost his grip on the sword. It clattered into the dirt.

Link reacted on instinct, yanking himself away from those who held him. But every time he managed to shake off a hand, two more took its place. Soon, he was surrounded on all sides by men in the royal guard uniform, his arms held back, a knife pressed against his throat.

Link jerked again, though with much more caution this time. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You are hereby being taken into the custody of the royal guard until further notice.”

He could not turn his head to see who spoke. Two gloved hands framed his face from behind, immobilizing him even further. His heart picked up in pace, which should have been impossible.

A booming voice echoed down from high above their heads, and all of the hands on Link tightened. “What is the meaning of this?”

Link raised his gaze to the royal box, only to find the king leaning over the railing. The king’s skin was red with anger beneath his bushy white beard, and he glowered down at the scuffle that had taken place below.

“Your Majesty.” One of the guards stepped forward, and Link recognized him as the same man he had dueled earlier today. He pointed back toward Link and grinned up at the royal box. “I am pleased to announce that we have captured the Lost Bandit.”

Chapter Text

 “Did you see where that sword came from?”

“—like he pulled it out of thin air.”

“Do you really think he’s the Lost Bandit?”

For the first time since the tournament began, the crowd was writhing with hushed whispers instead of frenzied cheers. Zelda tried to ignore them as she followed her father down the stairs toward the main floor of the coliseum, but the mutterings were everywhere, surrounding her, placing her in a cage not unlike the one they would place Link in should he be convicted of his crimes. She had been the only one to see the Koroks when they brought the Master Sword to their friend. To everyone else, it was like a miracle.

Zelda’s mind whirled with strategies for cleaning up the mess the guards had made. How had they discovered Link’s identity? Would the presence of the Master Sword, paired with the magical way it had appeared, be enough to absolve him of blame?

Dirt clung to the bottoms of her shoes as she trod across the arena floor in her father’s wake. Down here, the air was heavy with the tang of blood, spilled on the ground from the dozens of duels she had just witnessed. She had conjured several fantasies in the last two days of stepping into this wide-open space to meet Link. How she would rush into his arms, how he would pick her up and spin her around before kissing her in front of hundreds of people.

Never in her fantasies did she imagine the knife held to his throat, or the wild frenzy in his eyes, or the hatred on the faces of dozens of soldiers as they held him steady.

Zelda’s father slowed to a stop before the gathered men, his thick robe trailing in the dirt. Duke Ghirahim had staggered to his feet already, and one of the soldiers handed him a handkerchief to press to his broken nose.

“You will explain yourself in full,” the king said to Captain Ingo, the one who had stepped forward to accuse Link. His leg had been bandaged where Link had cut him in their duel, and he seemed very pleased with himself. Zelda wanted to wipe that smug look right off his face.

“Last week, I was delivering a supply of elixirs to the training grounds near Minshi Woods,” the captain began, bowing slightly to the king. “There, my party was attacked by the Lost Bandit, and my horse and the elixirs were stolen. I have discovered this man to be in possession of that same horse.” He pointed toward Link like he was accusing a child of breaking his toy. 

The declaration stirred Link up, and he struggled against the hands that held him. “You have no proof! That’s my horse!”

The king nodded in agreement. “How do you know that it is the same horse?”

The Captain grinned far too wickedly. “He did a fair job at disguising it, but I recognized the markings beneath the layer of coal dust that this man smeared it with. And the horseshoes were branded with the royal seal.”

“Couldn’t he simply have been given the horse by the Lost Bandit?”

The Duke, having finally staunched most of the bleeding from his nose, interjected, “He’s the one who stole my coin purse and escaped sentencing five years ago!”

At that accusation, the king’s focus turned to Link. Zelda’s heart was hammering against the back of her throat, and she seemed to have lost her stomach somewhere back in the royal box. Her mind raced with possible explanations she could offer, but she worried that too many protestations would simply throw more suspicion on the two of them.

There was fire in Link’s gaze, fire that defied the hands that held him. His eye had swollen shut, and his pants had been stained crimson from the gash the Duke had bestowed on his leg. Still, he cut an impressive figure, his jaw tight and his fists clenched as the king took a step toward him.

Zelda’s father reached out and brushed a hand over Link’s hair. Link scrunched up his nose, and he seemed to be resisting the urge to duck away. The king’s palm came away smudged with black coal dust, and a few strands of dirty blonde hair peeked out from the sea of black on Link’s head. 

“It is you,” the king breathed. “You look so much like your father now.”

Link’s nostrils flared, but he did not speak. No matter how close the king had been to Link’s father, it did not excuse the crimes he had committed.

The king took a heavy step back and turned to Captain Ingo. “Do you have any other proof to back up your accusations?”

In answer, the captain gestured to one of the soldiers at the back of the pack surrounding Link. The young man stepped forward, a familiar saddlebag hanging from his hand.

Link squirmed against the soldiers. “That’s my personal property! You have no right to—”

The saddlebag was upended onto the arena floor. First, the items revealed were what could be expected. A change of clothes, a pair of clean boots, another set of gloves, some socks and undergarments. But as the soldier shook it, stranger things fell atop the pile. A set of knives. Something that looked suspiciously like a lock picking kit. Wraps for shoes to soften footfalls, scarves and hats to disguise his hair and face. Then, a pile of jewelry. Broaches. Necklaces. Golden buttons that resembled the ones attached to the guards’ uniforms a little too closely. A purse heavy with rupees.

“These jewels had been reported missing by a count who had invited this man to his bonfire two nights ago,” the captain explained. The king pursed his lips.

Zelda looked up at Link, her heart sinking. His eyes softened when he looked at her, full of unspoken apologies. How could he have been so foolish?

The soldier reached into the bottom of the bag and produced a tightly-rolled cloak. Zelda pressed a hand to her mouth to hide her despair. If her father had not yet been convinced, this would spell it out plainly.

Link closed his eyes and tipped his head back toward the sky.

The soldier lifted the cloak up and shook it out vigorously. The Korok leaf on the back was placed on display for all the world to see.

The crowd went wild with accusations.

“Put him to the death!”

“Send him to the stocks!”

“Let me come down there and have a go at him myself!”

The Duke’s face, already flushed with anger, turned positively purple. Before anyone could stop him, he rushed toward Link and swung his fist at his face again.

Link jerked back in time to avoid another blow, but the Duke wasn’t done. He raised his arms to strike again, and he was only stopped when the king bellowed, “ENOUGH!”

The Duke froze. The soldiers froze. The audience went quiet again. In the deafening silence that followed, Zelda took her chance.

She stepped forward and said, “Link is the Hero of Hyrule, Father.”

The king turned a glare upon Zelda that frightened her. She knew that it was not her words that had caused it, but still, she used careful, precise movements as she bent down and picked up the sword that had been discarded by her feet. “Look. He wields the Master Sword. He won the tournament. You cannot put him to death.”

The king’s face lost all color at the sight of the sword.

“Lies! Thievery! This man clearly stole the sword for his own selfish gain!” The Duke’s voice rose in volume, and he stomped toward Zelda with fire in his eyes. She skidded away, but he reached for the hilt and jerked the sword from her grasp.

He cried out and dropped it to the dirt immediately. His chest heaving in surprise, he stared down at his hand, now stained red with burns.

Zelda picked up the sword again. “See? That is all the proof you need! Only the hero can wield this weapon.”

She held it out to her father, who dragged a tentative finger across the hilt. He hissed and removed his finger the second it made contact.

“This proves nothing,” the Duke snarled. “He is responsible for the loss of millions of rupees from our estates. He has fabricated—”

The king held up a hand, silencing the Duke. His jaw tightened beneath his beard, and his shoulders were tense beneath his embroidered robe. He gazed down at the Lost Bandit’s cloak, then at Link’s face, then at the Master Sword, then the pile of rupees and jewels. Quietly, under his breath, Zelda heard him whisper, “Goddess help me.”

“Father,” Zelda pleaded again, cradling the goddess’s sword to her chest. “You must believe me. He is our only chance against the Calamity.”

The king’s voice sounded like sandpaper when he said, “Zelda, you know as well as I that his man should be punished for his crimes. He will be tried, and evidence will be given, but if he is the Lost Bandit as they claim, my hands are tied.”

“He will be put to the sword,” the Duke interjected. “It is the only solution I will accept.”

The king shook his head. “If this man is the Hero of Hyrule, I will not allow his beheading. No matter his crimes, I will not allow my daughter to face the wrath of the Calamity alone.”

The Duke looked ready to scream. Even the guard captain opened his mouth to protest. But the king simply said, “I must confer with my council. Take him into custody for now. His sentencing will be carried out in the next two days.”

“No!” Zelda cried, tugging on her father’s robe. “No, you can’t do this! He won the tournament, he is the rightful hero!”

The king cast her a heavy look. “He must face justice for the crimes he has committed, no matter his status as the goddess’s chosen.”

“The only crime that has been committed is the overtaxing of our poorest citizens by the corrupt nobility! He was only returning the wealth to the population it was stolen from!”

The Duke scoffed at her accusation, but she trained her attention solely on her father. Her voice was reaching dangerous levels of volume, and she knew that it was likely not helping her case. Still, she dug her nails into her father’s arm. “Please,” she begged. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. “Please, Father, you cannot do this. I…” She turned to Link, who looked ready to snap. His hands shook. His eyes were wild with fury. But his gaze was fixed resolutely on her. She knew that, should they unhand him, he would run straight for her. Her heart fluttered like a bird against her ribcage. “I love him, Father.”

The king reared back in surprise, as did nearly everyone present. Everyone except Link, whose lips tilted up in a sad smile.

“You love him?” the king asked. His tone carried more confusion than accusation.

She did not look away from Link when she answered, “With all my heart.”

“And…and does this criminal return your love?”

Link straightened. In a quiet voice, a voice meant more for lovers in the dark than for criminals facing their death, he said, “Zelda, my darling…I love you more than life itself.”

Zelda’s heart lifted. Her skin tingled. For a moment, a wave of heat overtook her, so fiercely that a strange white glow creeped into the edges of her vision. One blink, and it was gone, and all she could see was Link’s bright blue eyes boring into her own.

“Preposterous. Your Majesty, have this prisoner taken away at once!”

The Duke’s voice shattered the heavy silence, and the soldiers seemed to remember themselves. They looked toward the king, waiting for his orders. The king swallowed. “Take him away.”

“No!” Zelda screamed as the soldiers began to guide Link toward the coliseum exit. She had no idea what the audience heard of the exchange, but the sight of Link being led away seemed to stir them up. They began to cheer, their voices dripping with disdain as he was shoved forward. The soldiers did not hold back in their treatment of Link, and he was half pushed, half dragged across the dirt floor by several violent hands. The roughhousing seemed to snap something in Link. He snarled at the soldiers who held him, and he bucked and writhed in their grasp. It took more than six men to subdue him and lead him out of the coliseum.

“He’s nothing more than a rabid animal,” the Duke said as Link attempted to bite the hands closest to him. “Feral. Like the dog he is.” 

— — —

Zelda tried her best to visit Link that night, but the guards around her campsite had been doubled, and every time she stepped foot outside her tent, at least three men attempted to crowd around her. 

Still, she could see Link’s position clearly from the edge of her campsite. He had been chained to a tentpole just outside of the Captain’s lodging. Though there were many guards stationed to keep anyone from reaching him, several dozen people formed an angry mob around him, shouting obscenities and insults to Link in exchange for all the wealth he had stolen from them. It was hard to see him among the gathering crowd, but every time Zelda caught a glimpse, his head was lowered, his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

Urbosa was a welcome sight after several hours of watching him stew under the mob’s scrutiny. She sent the guards back to their patrols with a stern look and took a seat beside Zelda to watch the altercation. 

“He has a strong spirit,” Urbosa said, crossing her arms. “He will endure.”

The Master Sword rested against Zelda’s shoulder, and she trailed her fingers down the blade, imagining that it was Link in her arms instead. “I’m terrified about what they’re going to do to him.”

Urbosa shot her a sideways glance. “If your father knows what’s good for him, he will keep him alive.”

Zelda leaned her cheek against the winged crossguard. “The Duke is powerful. My father is only one man. What happens when the Duke rallies the council against Link?”

“The Champions will stand up for him as best as we can. We all have grown fond of him, Revali notwithstanding. Though I think the Rito’s disdain only comes from the fact that Link beat him in the archery tournament.”

 Zelda’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and she choked on her words when she said, “I don’t think I can watch him suffer.”

Urbosa reached out and draped an arm over her shoulders. “I will go check on him later tonight. I’ll bring him food and water, and I will send along any message you give me.”

Zelda leaned into Urbosa, accepting the Gerudo warrior’s warmth and comfort. “Tell him…tell him I love him. And that I’ll do everything in my power to keep him safe.”

— — —

Link was chained to the back of a cart the next morning and made to walk beside the horses on the road to Castle Town. Though he had remained quiet during the night, the morning brought new vigor. Anyone who came near him got kicked. Anyone who jeered at him received a glare that could melt iron. He nearly bent one of the boards of the cart with the strength of his arms, and he had to be secured to a sturdier portion to keep him from breaking loose. He continued to jerk violently against his chains as he was dragged behind the never-ending caravan.  

Zelda was whisked away by Urbosa and Mipha, who seemed keen to keep her from watching Link’s plight. They kept her firmly tucked inside the royal carriage, cradling the Master Sword in her arms. They spoke briefly of strategy, of how they might stand up for Link, but without knowing how the council would decide his fate, their ideas quickly dissipated. They rode the rest of the way back to the city in tense silence. 

The sun had set by the time they rode up to the castle. Zelda burst from the carriage and ran to the back of the caravan to see how her beloved thief had fared. He leaned against the wooden cart, his chest heaving, his face red with fury. His injured eye had lost some of its swelling, but a deep purple bruise had formed around it. His leg, at least, had been bandaged. Probably not very well, seeing how heavily he favored the other. When he saw her, he forced a painful grimace. “Hi, love.”

She started toward him, but several guards suddenly materialized between them, blocking her way. Urbosa’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Come on, little bird. There’s nothing you can do for him now.”

A noise of protest left Zelda’s lips, and she lunged for Link again. Urbosa’s arms, strong and sure, wrapped around her waist. 

“No!” Zelda cried, like an obstinate child. “Let me go!”

Link strained against his chains to get to her, his teeth clenched as he tried to slip his hands through the cuffs. But there was no use. Urbosa dragged Zelda away, and he was left with nothing but chafed and bleeding wrists. 

— — —

The trial went about as well as Zelda expected. Link was not even permitted to be present to defend himself as the council brought charges against him concerning the wealth he had taken from them. False witnesses testified to seeing him steal significantly more than was found within his saddlebags. Others delivered stories of violence and recklessness that painted Link as some sort of wild animal. Given his behavior when he was captured, it wasn’t a difficult story to spin.

The only thing that saved him from facing the sword was the stalwart defense of Zelda and the four champions. The Master Sword refused to be held or even touched by anyone but the princess, proving that it was the real weapon blessed by the goddess. There was no denying that hundreds of people had seen Link wield it, not to mention the fact that it had seemingly materialized out of thin air at his most dire moment.

The champions testified to the likelihood of him being the hero, noting that he would have won the tournament had he not been interrupted by the guards, and stating that they all felt drawn to him as the goddess’s chosen.

Zelda even testified to his character, telling stories of his father’s prowess as the king’s personal guard, reminding the nobles of the scrawny little kid who used to follow her around the palace for years, and spinning the tale of his life into one of sadness and desperation that drove him to stealing just to stay alive. Which was not untrue.

Still, even though some of the nobles recalled fond memories of Link as a child and even claimed that he could have been a great knight one day, they did not relent on their position. He should be punished for his crimes.

The Duke advocated for his beheading. It was only the steadfast fighting of the princess and the champions that got him out of that sentence.

Instead, he would be publicly flogged, and he would be imprisoned in the castle’s dungeons until the Calamity reared its head. Only then would he be permitted to fight at the princess’s side. And everyone in that room knew that, should Zelda fail to awaken her powers, the Lost Bandit would perish at the hand of the Calamity either way.

Zelda was permitted to visit Link in the dungeon that night and inform him of his sentence. It was far too reminiscent of the fateful night five years ago, the last night that Zelda had seen her best friend. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she readied herself for the sight of him behind bars again.

She had dressed herself in her warmest clothes and hidden a blanket beneath her cloak to provide Link with some sort of comfort in the cold. The guards sneered at her as she passed them and descended the steps to the freezing cells where Link was kept.

“Link,” she called, making sure to keep her voice quiet. She expected him to run up to the bars and stick his hands through, but there was hardly any movement or sound.

All she heard in response was a quiet, “I’m in here.”

She followed the sound of his voice down the rows of empty cells and discovered him in the furthest one. She couldn’t help her gasp when turned to face him.

Instead of being left to roam freely about the cell like last time, Link had been chained to the floor by his wrists. He did not have enough room to stand, and instead he sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, his whole body shuddering in the frigid air.

She gripped the freezing bars and pressed her whole body against them. “Why did they do this?”

He offered her a humorless smile. “Didn’t want to take any chances, I guess.”

He still wore the torn black cloak from the tournament, which seemed to offer a little comfort. Zelda pulled the small blanket out from under her own cloak and tossed it carefully through the bars, making sure that it landed within his reach. He pulled it across his lap with a grateful nod.

“So,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “when will I lose my head?”

Zelda knelt down in front of the bars until she was close to eye-level with him. His chains clinked against one another, ringing far too loudly through the empty room. “You aren’t going to be beheaded. You’ll be publicly whipped tomorrow, and you’ll be kept in here until the Calamity comes.”

Link released a heavy sigh. She couldn’t tell if it was one of relief or one of fear. “I guess that’s the least of what I deserve. Will I be put to death after we defeat the Calamity, then?”

Zelda chewed the inside of her cheek before saying, “Most people believe that the Calamity will kill you before we seal it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I still haven’t awoken my powers.”

“Oh.”

Zelda pulled her cloak more tightly around herself. “Will you be alright? Do you want me to bring you some food or water?”

Link shrugged. “I don’t know if I want anything in my stomach come tomorrow morning.”

She nodded. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“Will I be moved back here after the flogging?”

“I doubt you will right away. They usually leave the…the criminals tied to the whipping post for at least one night.”

Link scrunched his eyes shut and rubbed his thumb along his temple. The bruise under his eye had darkened, contrasting with the rest of his pale and haggard face. Zelda wanted to squeeze between the bars and pull him against her chest, run her fingers through his dirty hair, hold him until he fell asleep in her arms. Instead, she stretched her hand into the cell, knowing they would not be able to reach each other, but grasping for him all the same. He opened his eyes and moved to take her hand, but the chains around his wrists stopped him short.

“Ah,” he groaned, wincing when his wrists rubbed against the irons.

“You shouldn’t have tried to twist free,” Zelda admonished.

Link raised his eyes to hers. “You don’t know the desperation that comes with facing your own death.”

Zelda frowned. “I do. Every day that I stand at the goddess statue and fail to awaken my powers, I do. I know it’s not the same, but…I understand a little.”

Link’s shoulders slumped immediately, and he ran a hand over his face. “I suppose we are two sides of the same coin.”

Zelda leaned her forehead against the bars and traced her fingers along a pattern in the stone floor. “Do you remember when we were children, and we were playing hide and seek tag down here?”

Despite the circumstances, the corner of Link’s mouth turned up in a smile. “You accidentally locked yourself in one of these cells.”

Zelda nodded. “The one on the other end. I was so embarrassed, I didn’t want you to go and get a guard to let me out.”

“But I did anyway.”

“You wanted to tag me and win the game.”

“And I did,” he said with a grin.

She chuckled lightly. “You always were an obstinate child.”

“And you weren’t?”

Zelda met his gaze, blue as a clear sky, free and open, like he would likely never be again. “I think I loved you even back then, you know.”

Link pulled the blanket up to his chin and smiled softly at her. “I know I loved you back then.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Are you kidding? You’re the princess. Back then, I thought I couldn’t get any lower. I was the son of a guard. I wasn’t a knight. I only went to school with you because all of the guards’ families were given extra funds for education. And when Father died, and I got nothing…I knew I would never be able to truly reach you. And now here I am, having somehow dug myself even lower.”

“You’re still a hero in my eyes,” Zelda said. “You’ve helped so many people.”

“And look where it’s gotten me. People are still dying on the streets. Taxes are still rising. And I’m here, chained to a dungeon floor.” He looked up at the ceiling. “You should leave before I drag you down with me.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Zelda replied. “We’re in this together, whether we choose it or not. The goddess has declared it.”

Link maneuvered himself so he could lie down across the floor, his arms bent awkwardly to accommodate his chains. “Maybe the goddess made a mistake.”

Zelda opened her mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe the goddess had been mistaken in choosing them. He was brave like the hero, with a good heart and a singular determination to help others. But she was nothing but a figurehead, a girl who passed out in frozen springs trying to beseech a goddess who wouldn’t listen. She had spent the last five years devoting herself to nothing but her prayers, and where had it gotten her? She might as well have been chained to the floor beside Link for all the good she has done for her people.

“I have the Master Sword in my room,” she ended up saying instead.

Link nodded. “As long as it’s not with the Duke, I don’t care where it is.”

“Have the Koroks come to visit you?”

Link nodded again. “I told them to get lost.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

This time, he shook his head and did not speak.

Zelda wanted to break the bars in half. She wanted to tear this whole place to the ground, wanted to steal him away and hide with him in the Lost Woods to the end of her days. Instead, she drew her hand back and tucked it in her cloak. She opened her mouth to speak, but Link interrupted her.

“Will you be watching tomorrow?”

Zelda knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “I have to attend all public whippings.”

“Can you…could I ask you to look away when they do it? I don’t want you to see me like that.”

“Link,” she said, her voice catching on a sob that wanted to escape.

He turned onto his side and looked at her. “Please,” he said. “I don’t want you to look.”

She wanted so badly to obey his wishes, but she knew in her heart that she had to watch what they did to him. She had to understand, to feel each lash alongside him. They were in this together, whether they liked it or not. She closed her eyes. “I’ll try.”

He rubbed a dirty hand across his mouth. “I know I should want to escape again and run as far away from here as I can, but right now…goddesses, Zelda, all I want to do is hold you. And it’s killing me.”

“I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

“You really want to be in the arms of a criminal? A thief?”

A tear slipped down Zelda’s cheek, one that froze in the frigid air of the cell. “I do,” she answered resolutely. “You stole my heart away a long time ago.”

Chapter Text

Link’s cloak and tunic had already been removed when the guards tugged him toward the whipping post. A gag had been fit between his teeth, tied tightly around his head, probably to keep him from stirring up the crowd as the herald read his crimes aloud. Zelda knew that there was no risk of that. He had never wanted to be a public figure. 

Contrary to his previous behavior, he moved with a slow solemnity behind the guards, his eyes boring holes into the ground between his feet. The crowds shuffled out of his way as he was led in a short procession to the place of his humiliation. 

There were hundreds of people gathered in the town square to witness this spectacle. Citizens were standing on their balconies, looking out their windows. Onlookers jostled each other on the cobblestone floor. Even the alleys and side streets had been filled. Zelda wasn’t sure if they had come of their own volition, or if the royal guards had forced them to see what would happen if someone should try to continue Link’s legacy. Despite the sheer amount of people present, there was a hush over the entire square that unsettled Zelda to her core. 

Looking around, she realized that Link had had a direct impact on many of these people. This was one of the poorest neighborhoods in Castle Town, and the Duke likely chose this location as a way to show them where they stood. Right beneath his polished leather boots. 

The Duke in question was grinning from ear to ear on a podium that had been hastily erected for high ranking members of the nobility. Zelda was satisfied to see that his nose was still swollen, the skin around it dyed a sickly greenish-yellow from when Link smashed it with his own sword hilt. 

Urbosa’s hand gripped Zelda’s shoulder from behind, an anchor to the earth when all her heart wanted to do was sprout wings and fly far, far from here. Her father stood on the podium with the Duke, looking like he, too, would rather be anywhere else. 

“He will endure,” Urbosa said, repeating her words from the night Link was arrested. Zelda knew he would endure. He had endured too much already. But that didn’t mean it would be painless. 

“I’d like to throw that Duke off the top of Hebra Peak,” Revali grunted under his breath. Daruk tugged nervously on the end of his beard. Zelda wished that Mipha could have been there too, but she had been called back to her Domain to resume her duty to the crown. Urbosa would have to leave that night, and Daruk and Revali would not be far behind. Soon, only Zelda would be the one standing between Link and the Duke. 

“This man stands accused of the following crimes,” a herald announced, unfurling the long scroll that detailed Link’s various escapades. He began to read them off. Accusations of thievery from various estates. Abduction of livestock. Attacks on traveling caravans and royal patrols. He had done far more than he should have been able to in such a short timespan, and he had done it all alone. 

As they read his list of crimes, two guards unlocked one of the irons around Link’s wrist. Zelda could see it in his eyes, the temptation to run, to knock out the soldiers who held him and make a break for it in the crowd. But the moment passed when they threaded his chains through the rings on the post and reattached them. 

“Because of his crimes, the accused will endure twenty lashes from the whip and will remain in the square as an example to those who wish to do the same.”

Zelda reached up and squeezed Urbosa’s hand. 

“You don’t have to watch, little bird,” Urbosa said. 

But she did. She had to try. He would have done the same for her. 

No, he would have rescued her before she ever reached this point. Perhaps she was just too weak to defend him like she should. 

Captain Ingo was the one who held the whip in his hand. Zelda wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair, that someone who hated Link should not be the one to dole out his punishment. But no words would come to her tongue. 

The captain tested the whip. The crack rent the air loud enough to make the whole crowd flinch. Tears sprang to Zelda’s eyes, and she blinked them away. She wished she could see Link’s face, but his back was to her, and he had pressed his forehead to the rough wood of the whipping post. 

All too quickly, the whip sailed toward Link. 

In the end, Zelda wasn’t strong enough. She looked away before it struck. 

A few onlookers gasped when the first lash was dealt. Zelda had endured her fair share of public whippings, so she got away with only the slightest intake of breath. Urbosa cradled her head against her shoulder, squeezing tightly as the whip cracked again. 

Two lashes. Three. Four. Five. 

By the time the whip came down upon him for the sixth time, tears were staining Zelda’s cheeks. 

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. 

Zelda’s stomach twisted, and she pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle her sobbing. Link’s gag kept him from crying out, but the silence of the crowd allowed a soft groan to be heard when the eleventh lash struck. Somehow, that quiet groan was worse than the sound of the weapon that assailed him. 

The fifteenth crack of the whip pulled a sound of pity from Urbosa. To the side, Revali let out a shuddering breath and muttered, “I’m surprised he was able to stand that long.” 

He must have fallen to his knees, then. Zelda tried to raise her head, if only to catch a glimpse, but Urbosa curled her fingers into Zelda’s hair and held her close. 

Only five more left. Zelda mouthed the words of the countdown with every crack. She was sure the captain wore a smile, one that shone on the faces of the nobility as well. 

Over Urbosa’s shoulder, Zelda could see those who had no wealth. Those whom the nobility strove to crush under their boots. The eyes of every other citizen there burned with a fury that mirrored Zelda’s own. There had to be a way to stop all this. There had to be. 

Nineteen. Twenty. 

The whip fell to the ground, and Zelda blew out a breath. 

The first part of his punishment was over. But the rest had only just begun. 

There was a buzzing in Zelda’s ears as Urbosa tightened her hold. Wetness stained her cheeks, sobs sticking in her throat that she did not have the strength to fight. A feathered Rito wing brushed against her back, followed by a soft, apologetic hum from Daruk. 

She couldn’t look at Link. She had failed him. Had failed to be as strong as him. She knew that the sight of him, collapsed against the whipping post, would be too much to bear. 

Zelda let the tears consume her as Urbosa led her away. 

— — —

Link’s breaths seared out of his lungs with every exhale. He knew that the whipping would hurt his back, but he had no idea how much it would hurt everywhere else. His head swam with dizziness, a pounding headache attacking his temple. His arms ached from the pain of trying to hold himself upright while the lashes were dealt. His fingers were stiff as rocks. His tongue was parched beneath the fabric of the gag in his mouth, and his molars throbbed. He had been tasting blood for a long time, but he couldn’t spit it out. 

He was too exhausted to stay awake, too agonized to sleep. He knelt before the whipping post in a helpless daze as the afternoon wore into evening and then into night. He painted a picture of misery that was too clear to ignore. 

He did not know if the stars were blinking overhead, if anyone peered at him from their bedroom window, or if any guards patrolled the square to keep curious passerby from taking a closer look at him. All that he knew was the rough wood of the post in front of him, the air squeezing in and out of his lungs, and the fire that burned across his whole body. 

Footsteps echoed off the cobblestone square. Link squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his forehead against the whipping post, hoping to keep the passerby from seeing exactly how much pain he was in. His knees ached. How he wished he could sit properly, or lie down, or even find the strength to stand up. Almost anything would be better than this terrible kneeling position, his arms dangling above his head, his wrists still bound in cold irons that had long-since rubbed his skin raw. 

A cool hand touched his forehead, and he flinched away with a muffled cry. When he opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of the last person in the world he wanted to see right then, but the only person who could make everything right.

Zelda crouched before him, the fog from her breath close enough to wash over his skin. Tears were already forming in her eyes at the sight of him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. If she was a mirage, hopefully that would be enough to banish it. If she was real, she would know he wanted her to go away. He had already been humiliated enough today.

Fingers curled around the back of his head and tugged at the tie that held the gag in his mouth. He tried to yank away from her, but he had nowhere to go. Soon, the gag was falling from between his teeth, soaked in saliva. His response was automatic, though he was in the presence of the princess. He spat the contents of his mouth upon the cobblestones between his knees. He could not meet Zelda’s eyes. Simply could not. It was all too much to bear.

Zelda lifted the corner of her cloak toward his mouth. He shied away, but she said, in her most commanding princess voice, “Stop it.”

He remained frozen as she wiped his lips with the well-made fabric.

“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice came out raspy, and he cleared his parched throat, though it did very little to actually solve the problem. 

“It is my choice to make,” she responded forcefully. She was not wearing the same outfit she had worn to attend his whipping. Then, she had been adorned in a fanciful gown, fit for a princess. Now, she wore a simple tunic, trousers, and a dark cloak, eerily similar to the one she gave him five years ago. 

She looked up at the chains that bound his hands to the post, and he could see the calculations in her eyes, followed by the look of defeat when she realized she did not have a way to free him. 

“Go home, Zelda,” Link commanded. “I don’t…I can’t protect you here.” 

Zelda reached into her cloak and pulled out a medium-sized bag. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she rummaged around inside. “I had hoped to be able to treat your wounds with a poultice I made, but they look worse than I thought. I can’t place the poultice until I wash the wounds out.” 

“You can’t wash them.”

“There’s a pump just across the square.”

“That water doesn’t come out clean. You’ll have to boil it.”

Her face paled, and she squeezed her fingers around her bag. “Then…then I’ll sneak back to the castle and get some clean water.”

Link let his head drop against the post with a dull thunk. “Zelda, please. Stop this madness. It’s my responsibility to bear.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it when another set of steps announced the presence of a stranger. These were slower, more unsure. Link was in too much pain to turn around and see who it was. Zelda pulled the hood of her cloak past her head to try to hide her face, but the stranger didn’t seem to be upset that she was speaking to him. 

A voice cut through the quiet, the voice of a woman, warm and confident. “Here, use this. I boiled it this afternoon.” 

Link craned his neck just as the unfamiliar woman bent down and set a bucket of clear water on the cobblestones before Zelda. Behind her trailed two children, a boy and a girl. The boy carried another bucket of water, and the girl carried a pile of fresh linens, pointedly looking away from the oozing wounds on Link’s back. 

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. “This…this is perfect. Thank you. What is your name?” 

“Telma,” the woman said, bowing her head. Then, “Are you…Princess Zelda?” 

Zelda hesitated only a moment before nodding. Link wasn’t sure if it was safe for the woman to know that the princess had snuck out of the castle, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to report it.

The pain was clouding his thoughts too much to allow him to contribute to the conversation. 

Zelda placed a hand on the edge of the bucket. “Thank you, Telma. Your kindness will not go unrewarded.” 

Telma shook her head. “Oh, no. I will not accept anything in return. I came here to wash his wounds out myself. The Lost Bandit provided funds for my family two years ago, when my daughter fell gravely ill. He saved us. He saved many people in Castle Town with his generosity. Trust me, there is no shortage of villagers willing to lend a hand.”

Surprised, Link gathered the energy to meet the woman’s eyes. He did not recognize her. But then again, he wouldn’t recognize many of the people he helped. He strived to work from the shadows to prevent capture, giving the funds only to the safest contacts within each village who then distributed them to those in need. Telma gazed back at him with a soft expression on her face, almost motherly. Not that Link knew much about what that looked like. 

He could not muster another word, not with his back aching so agonizingly, but he hoped that the look in his eyes portrayed his gratitude. He would have done more for these people, stolen over and over, even if it meant he would always face the same fate. 

Telma smiled at him. “You are a hero, young man. No matter what anyone else tells you.” 

If Link had any more energy left in his body, he would have wept. 

Zelda grabbed a clean rag from the pile and dipped it into the bucket of clean water. At first, Link thought she would place it over his back. He braced himself against the pole and held his breath to prepare for more pain. 

Instead, she held the soaked garment to his lips. 

He sucked the moisture from it on instinct, wetting his parched throat with a grunt of relief. 

“Children, go back to your father. The princess and I will finish this together,” Telma said. 

The children turned obediently back toward home. They did not disguise the fear in their faces at the sight of Link’s back. Hopefully it would not give them nightmares. 

“You don’t need to get your hands dirty like this,” Zelda insisted as she dipped the rag into the water again and gave Link another drink. The touch of water on his tongue had never tasted so miraculous. 

“You, the princess, are telling me this?” Telma said with a light laugh. “As I said, Your Highness, there are many who would be glad to lend a hand. I had to keep a crowd from forming here by assuring everyone I talked to that I would come to dress his wounds. I didn’t want to draw the attention of the guards, which would no doubt happen if hundreds of people rushed to help him.”

Hundreds of people? Hundreds? He could not believe that so many would volunteer to aid him. And all because he had given them a little money? 

He swallowed another mouthful of water from the soaked rag and turned to Telma. “Thank you,” he rasped. 

Telma dunked a clean rag into the water and leaned toward him, positioning herself behind his back. “I’ve dressed a few of these before. You may not be thanking me here in a moment.”

With that, she wrung the water from the rag onto his torn back. A groan clawed its way out of Link’s mouth when the water made contact with his skin. His stomach heaved, but he had only bile to spit out. 

Zelda pressed a cool rag to his forehead, wiping the sweat from his flushed face. “Shhh, my love,” she soothed, trying to keep him quiet. “You can’t draw too much attention to yourself.”

More water fell across the gashes, and he heard the drops hit the cobblestones with wet splats. 

“I wanted nothing more than to rush between you and the whip today,” Telma said. “There were many people ready to step in. But I am ashamed to say that the presence of the soldiers kept us at bay.”

Link shook his head, his breath shuddering from the pain. “T-There would have been a r-riot. And it wouldn’t have gone in your f-favor.”

Soon a new rag was drawn lightly across his skin. Zelda pressed a gentle hand over his mouth to muffle his groans. Though agony ripped through him, he knew it was necessary, so he sucked in a breath through his nose and blew it out sharply, gripping his hands around the chains to keep himself grounded. 

Zelda continued her ministrations from the front, soothing him with her words as she dragged cool rags across his forehead, across his bare shoulders, down his chest. She gave him more water to rinse the bile from his mouth, and then she began to pepper his face in soft kisses. One on each cheek, one on the tip of his nose, several across his jaw between his ear and his chin. Her lips did wonders at distracting him from the pain of Telma dragging the rag over the wounds, but he still winced and cried out when the rag trailed over particularly sensitive spots. 

“You’re so brave,” Zelda whispered to him, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. He hardly heard the content of her words, focusing instead on the cadence of her voice to keep himself from passing out. 

“Your Highness, you said you brought a poultice?” Telma asked after what felt like an eternity of cleaning. 

Zelda held up her bag and scooted away from Link’s line of sight. “Yes. I mixed it with crushed herbs we have in the palace gardens.”

There was a period of silence as Zelda pulled out the poultice for Telma to examine. Link heard the mother make a noise of surprise. 

“This is well crafted,” she said. “Lost Bandit, you are certainly fortunate to have someone like the princess to help you.” 

He knew it. And he knew he didn’t deserve an ounce of what she gave him.

Zelda turned back to Link and rubbed a hand down the length of his arm. “I have to help her with this part,” she said.

“No.”

A new voice joined the fray, this one male, accompanied by the sound of a door shutting across the square. Link looked over his other shoulder to see a man walking toward them, his hands cupped around a bowl filled with something hot and steaming.

“Pumm,” Telma said, her voice admonishing, “I told you I would handle it myself.”

“You need an extra set of hands so the princess can see to it that he does not lose his courage,” the man answered. He crouched down before Link, holding out the bowl with a smile. “Care for some pumpkin soup?”

Truthfully, the smell was intoxicating to Link, despite the pain in the rest of his body. Full of rich spices and warmth that would comfort him in the cold winter air. He had not eaten anything in so long. His stomach growled when the bowl was brought closer.

“I’ll feed it to him,” Zelda said, pulling the bowl from Pumm’s hands. She stirred the soup with the wooden spoon, blew across the surface to cool it off, and held it to Link’s lips.

He would never admit it to her, but the soup soothed his pain more than Zelda’s kisses. He held it on his tongue, memorizing the taste, before letting the warm liquid fall down his throat with a soft, appreciative hum.

“Shit, that’s good,” he said, opening his mouth for more.

Zelda smiled. “Surprised you’ve held your tongue this long.” She pushed another spoonful between his lips. Behind him, Link could hear the sound of Pumm and Telma stirring the poultice and applying it to strips of clean linen. He was not looking forward to the sting of those being applied.

“Can I drink it directly from the bowl?” Link asked. He was not above begging if he had to.

Zelda shook her head. “I will not have you throwing up all over your clean linens. One bite at a time will have to suffice.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but another spoonful of soup was pressed against his tongue instead.

“Have you tried the blacksmith?” Pumm’s voice interrupted Link’s enjoyment of the soup.

“I don’t think we can risk it. The sound of voices can be ignored, but hammering on irons is harder to mask.”

“Still, he might have a trick to opening them.”

Link looked up at the chains around his wrists. Were they wanting to break him free from them? Would these people really risk their lives to help a complete stranger?

“I’ll send my Kina to him and see if there are any tricks.”

Pumm whistled, and a light stretched out across the square as a door was opened in response.

“Yes, Papa?” came a young girl’s voice.

“Go ahead and wake Gondo up for me, will you darling?”

Link raised his head. “Gondo?”

“He’s our blacksmith,” Telma explained.

“Yes, I…I fought with him in the tournament earlier this week.”

Zelda pressed another spoonful of soup between Link’s lips. “There are many people who are willing to help you,” she said with a soft smile.

Link swallowed the soup and craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Telma and Pumm. “You really don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to risk your lives by helping me. It’s not worth it.”

Telma shot Link a look that cowed him immediately. “What about you risking your life for five years to supply funds, food, and clothing to those less fortunate?”

Link shook his head and looked away. “It’s different. You are being abused by the nobility. I have the skills needed to fight back, and I wanted to put them to good use.”

Telma huffed. “And I have the skills needed to bandage your back.”

“And I have the skills to bring you pumpkin soup,” Pumm added.

“You have no right to tell us where we can put them to use,” Telma finished. “Your Highness, you might want to take a break from the soup for a moment. This will likely sting.”

Zelda nodded, set the bowl on the ground, and rose up on her knees to hold her palm over Link’s lips again.

Pumm and Telma pressed the bandages against Link’s back. He tried to stay still, but the poultice felt like pure flames against his skin, and he arched his back and strained against his chains on instinct to get away.

“Shhh,” Zelda whispered. She gripped his head to keep him still, even as he moaned against her palm. “It’s okay. Just a few seconds longer.”

“Hold him steady,” Telma said, laying another strip of linen across his spine.

Tears filled Link’s eyes, and he started shaking his head, begging Zelda to make them stop. She carded her fingers through his hair and refused to let him go, even as tears slipped down her own cheeks.

Finally, the stinging lessened. Link blew a harsh breath out of his nose, and Zelda released his mouth with a sigh. Link sagged against the whipping post with a groan of dismay.

“All that’s left is to wrap him, and he should be good to go,” Telma said. She edged closer to Link, and soon her arms were around him as she wrapped a roll of linens around his torso from behind.

“Papa!”

Kina’s voice echoed over the square, and Pumm rose to his feet. “What is it?”

“Gondo said he might have a key to the irons. He’s looking now, and he says he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Telma and Pumm were quiet after Kina went back into her house. Link strained to look over his shoulder at him, not daring to hope.

Finally, Telma said, “I have extra bags I can pack with food and water.”

“I think my neighbors have a spare cloak,” Pumm added.

“Wait,” Link protested, “you’re not going to—”

Telma interrupted him, “If we can get you out of here, we will do everything in our power to make that happen. He’ll need a horse—”

“I can get him a horse,” Zelda interrupted. “I have access to the royal stables. And my Sheikah guard is aware of our situation. All I have to do is go back to the castle and tell her, and she can bring my horse to the outskirts of Castle Town.”

Telma grunted. “But then, how will you escape?”

The silence that followed that question was deafening. Link wanted to twist around again, but his muscles hurt too much, so he resigned himself to staring at the whipping post as he said, “She can’t come with me.”

Zelda’s face fell. “Can’t I? You know there’s nothing left for me in the castle. I’ve spent years trying to—” She cut herself off with a click of her teeth and cast an embarrassed glance at Telma and Pumm over Link’s shoulder.

Pumm scooched around Link’s side so Link could see his expression while he spoke to Zelda. “Princess, we have heard of your difficulties awakening your powers.”

Zelda’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed red.

Pumm continued, “The nobles gossip in the town square because they do not believe that the citizens are worth hiding information from. But we have heard all about it. We hear much more than you think. I think you should go with him. What better opportunity to strive to awaken your powers than being with the Hero himself?”

Link raised his head, incredulous. “You know about me being the Hero?”

Telma moved to kneel in front of Link as well. “There were plenty of servants and citizens at that tournament, Link. They saw that you were about to win. They saw you pull the Master Sword out of thin air. We may not be the most educated, but we know what the legends have foretold. You are the Hero who will save us.”

Link scoffed and shook his head. “Yeah, right. Look at me. I’m chained to a damn whipping post.”

Telma narrowed her eyes. “And you are about to be set free. We are helping you because you once helped us. And because we know that you are the one we can trust to protect us. You have shown it time and time again. With every rupee you delivered back to the citizens of Castle Town and Necluda and everywhere else. You did not realize it, Hero, but you have been building an army in your wake. There are few who would not lend a hand to you if you would ask for it.” She trained her eyes on the princess as she finished, “We were surprised to find out of the princess’s affection for you, but it just proves our point more. Of all of the nobility, the princess is the only one who has strived to help the citizens of Castle Town. Her work with the Sheikah technology has led to the development of more effective elixirs for the winters. We will gladly help her, too.”

Link’s mouth fell open, but before he could respond, a new set of footsteps echoed through the square.

Telma and Pumm gathered the linens and the buckets of clean water together. Zelda stuck close to Link as a familiar figure came into view, keys jingling on his belt with every step he took.

Gondo smiled down at the four of them and held up an iron key. “Ready to get the hell out of here?”

Chapter Text

Gondo fit the key into Link’s iron chains with a wide smile. “I’ve got a duplicate of every key I’ve made. The soldiers always care more about the strength of the iron than who can unlock them.”

Link’s arms dropped to his sides as soon as he was released. Immediately, he sat back on the cobblestones and stretched his legs out in front of him with a soft moan of delight. He wanted to lie down right there in the middle of the street, but his back still ached so fiercely that he settled for tilting his head toward the sky and breathing in the cold night air. 

Telma and Pumm rose to their feet and turned to face Gondo. “We need to pack them provisions. There are…”

The rest of their words faded into the background as Zelda settled next to Link and picked up one of his wrists in her hands.

“These look bad,” she said, clicking her tongue as her thumb dragged across his ruined skin. It hurt, but he didn’t want her to stop touching him. She was his anchor, the only thing that was convincing him that all of this was real. 

Link shrugged. “I can handle them.”

“And this?”

Her thumb brushed the bruise under his eye, still tender to the touch. He hissed and flinched away.

“Sorry,” she said, settling her hand back in her lap.

Link stretched out a weak and shaking arm and tucked a strand of her hair behind her pointed ear. “Thank you for coming out here. It was stupid, and I’m furious with you…but thank you.”

She raised her eyes to his. “Can I please come with you?”

Link pinched his lips together. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to come. In fact, having her as a companion would make him the happiest thief in Hyrule. But he didn’t want to put her in danger. Didn’t want to make her suffer. Didn’t want her to realize that she made a mistake after a few days of bathing in rivers instead of heated baths, sleeping on bedrolls instead of feathered beds.

But he had never been very good at saying no to her.

He leaned forward and took both of her hands in his. “I want you to understand exactly what you’ll be facing should you come with me. I don’t have a castle, or a carriage, or even a furred cloak anymore. I don’t have banquets I can set for you or things to entertain you with. I have the clothes on my back – which don’t count for much, considering I don’t even have a shirt on – and I have the few possessions that I’ve managed to collect in the Lost Woods. That’s it, Zel. That’s all I can offer you. I’ll do my best to protect you, but…even the Master Sword is out of reach now.”

Zelda chewed the inside of her cheek. “What if I gave you a few more supplies?”

“You can’t, love. If you go back to the castle, there’s no guarantee you can sneak back out to me again. It’s all or nothing.”

“What about the Koroks? They were able to retrieve the Master Sword. Can’t they procure a few supplies for us from the castle since they can’t be spotted?”

Link glanced to the side, unsure how to respond. It was a fair idea, but the Koroks weren’t always the most…reliable of companions. More often than not, they got distracted by their own whims when given a specific task to complete. It was why he almost never used them for heists and banditry.

“We…we can try,” Link said, nodding. “But we’ll have to make sure we’re poised to run as soon as possible. I can’t guarantee they won’t make a mess of your rooms and alert the guards to your absence.”

Zelda brought his hands to her lips and pressed a tender kiss to his knuckles. “Even if they are unsuccessful…I do want to go with you. I can’t promise I’ll be the most helpful companion, and…I know there are some things that I will sorely miss, but…I don’t think that my powers will awaken at the castle. Perhaps being with the hero in the very place he drew his sword will be the thing that sparks them.” 

Link squeezed her hands and stared at her with burning eyes. “I can’t give you anything,” he repeated. He needed her to understand this. He did not want to be faulted for what he lacked. 

She reached out and hovered a hand over his heart, right above the edge of his bandages. “All I want is this,” she breathed. 

He curled his hand over hers and pressed it flat to his chest. “It’s already yours.” 

Telma, Pumm, and Gondo finished their conversation and turned to them with smiles on all of their faces. Telma reached a hand toward Link. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.”

— — —

The darkest part of the night was upon them by the time Impa led a horse out to an alley near the edge of Castle Town. Her eyes were gaunt, her face pale when she set eyes on the princess. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said as Zelda took hold of the bridle and held her mare steady. 

“I do,” Zelda assured Impa. “You have seen my failure firsthand, and you know I can no longer stay in the castle. I have the support of the Champions. I will not be alone.” 

“Do you have everything you need? You should have given me a list of supplies.” 

“And alerted the guards to my absence?” Zelda shook her head. “It would have been folly. Trust me, I am well-equipped.”

Link stepped out of the shadows, dressed in a borrowed brown tunic and cloak, his stiff gait the only thing belying his injuries.

Impa’s eyebrows pinched together at the sight of him. “You really trust him to care for you?”

Zelda settled a hand on Impa’s arm and gave her the most reassuring smile she could muster. “He will protect me. I promise.”

Link lifted a heavy bag and hooked it onto the mare’s side. The townspeople had supplied them with as much as they could spare, evidenced by the bulging rucksacks at Link’s feet. “We should have procured two horses,” he said under his breath. “Two of us and these bags will be too heavy for her.”

“I can walk once we’re out of the city,” Zelda offered.

“Absolutely not,” Link argued.

“You are seriously injured.”

“And you’re the Princess.”

“I’m not having this discussion with you right now.”

Impa cleared her throat and bowed slightly to the princess. “If that is all you need, I will take my leave. I don’t want anyone to grow suspicious in my absence.”

Zelda rushed forward and folded Impa into her arms, squeezing her tightly. She did not know when she would see her next, and the thought made her heart ache fiercely. Impa hugged her back with a soft sight. 

“I will do everything I can to discredit the Duke’s influence,” Impa said, “but I can make no promises.”

Zelda nodded. “We’ll be back soon. I promise. You and the citizens of Castle Town will not be left alone.”

With that, Impa turned back to the castle and disappeared into the shadows.

Link appeared behind Zelda almost as stealthily, startling her. She squeaked in surprise, but he simply tilted his head toward the glowing castle and said, “The Koroks should be returning any minute now.”

“Then let’s not waste another second.” She turned toward the horse. Link gripped her arm and boosted her into the saddle, though she needed no help.

He reached up and grabbed onto the saddle horn. “Scooch back. There’s not enough room.”

Zelda frowned down at him and inched herself even closer to the horn. “You are not riding in front.”

“Zelda—”

“Do you really want me pressing up against your back right now?”

His face went pale, and he avoided her gaze, a rosiness highlighting the side of his neck. “Fine,” he grunted before stepping into the stirrup and swinging up behind her.

“Hylia forbid you let me do something for once,” Zelda grumbled as he braced her thighs with his own and settled his hands on her hips. He squeezed her close, and Zelda couldn’t help her smile. Ten minutes together, and they were already bickering like the old friends they used to be. 

She steered the horse toward the outer gate and began walking her forward, her eyes scanning the ground for any signs of the Koroks. She had no idea how quickly they could appear, or what their constraints were concerning the material world.

It wasn’t until they were nearly out of the city that she got her answer. Five floating lights zipped down a side street, followed by the sound of jingling bells. Link dismounted faster than she could react and knelt before the lights.

With a soft pop, five Koroks appeared in the small alley. Between them, they carried the Master Sword and a bag stuffed with strange lumps that made Zelda quite nervous. None of the clothes she had asked for took that shape.

“We got it, we got it!” one of the Koroks cheered, hefting the hilt of the Master Sword with a grunt.

Link picked up the sword and smiled. “Nice work. Did you get what the princess asked for, too?”

Another Korok nodded and waved a stubby limb toward the bag. “Plus some fun goodies!”

Link cast a wary glance up toward Zelda, and she squeezed the bridle in her hand. “No time to investigate,” she sighed. Link shook his head, hooked the bag and the sword onto the saddle, and swung back up behind her.

“Let’s go, before she loses her stamina,” Link said, gesturing down to the horse.

Zelda wasted no time. She spurred the steed forward, and soon they were leaving the cobblestone streets and trotting across the dirt roads, their only possessions strapped to the saddle beneath them.

— — — 

They took turns riding in the saddle once Castle Town was far behind them. Neither of them lasted very long for the walking stretches, what with Link’s injuries and Zelda’s lack of overall stamina. By the time they settled down for lunch, the sun doing little to warm the chilly winter air around them, her feet were positively aching in her boots.

She parsed through the bag that the Koroks had packed for her and was dismayed to find that they had shoved several of her Sheikah tomes inside, as well as the Sheikah slate that she had been studying on Purah’s behalf. Such valuable research being stolen from the castle would not go unnoticed, and would only spur on those who wished to hunt Link down.

“You know that they will have guards surrounding the Lost Woods soon enough,” Link said, applying a little more of the poultice Zelda had brought with them against his scabbed wrists. “Stealing Sheikah research, not to mention kidnapping the princess–”

“You didn’t kidnap me.”

Link shot her a look. “Did you leave a note that says otherwise?”

Zelda’s face heated, and she looked away. “No.”

“They’ll come after me with even more resolve than before.”

Zelda stared back toward Castle Town. Her home stood out like a thorn against the landscape, a monument to all of her failures, to the desecration of the nobility. “I know.”

“We’ll have to consult the Deku Tree and see if he has any wisdom on how to proceed. Do you think we’ll be able to visit the four champions and garner their support? Or will they be required to arrest me on sight?”

Zelda pulled her knees to her chest and leaned her cheek against one of them. “I don’t know. I can send letters to Urbosa. She will be the most likely to defy the crown for our sake. But the more important question is how we can awaken my powers to stop the Calamity.”

Link rubbed his thumb between his eyebrows. “Yeah…there are a lot of things to consider.”

“We’ll rest first. Get you healed. You can’t very well fight off a monster with an injured leg and back.”

With that, they resumed their journey to the north.

They arrived at the Lost Woods as the sun was setting. The golden rays cast long, ominous shadows on the forest floor below. Despite Zelda’s confidence in Link, uncertainty swirled in her belly as she dismounted and joined Link at the forest’s edge.

“I was able to bring the horse I stole through, but it spooked pretty easily,” Link said. “We’ll have to blind yours to keep it from running off and getting lost forever.”

Zelda nodded and went to find something they could use to cover the horse’s eyes. After digging through their saddlebags and coming up empty, she eventually removed her new furred cloak and draped it over the horse’s face. Her mare snorted and nickered, but Zelda secured the cloak to her head before turning to Link with what she hoped was a confident smile.

Link held a hand toward her, and she slid her palm against his.

They walked into the Lost Woods together.

Zelda wasn’t sure what to expect, but the sudden intrusion of the darkness upon her vision was abrupt enough to make her whimper in fear. One second there was sunlight peeking through the branches overhead, and the next, she was surrounded by mist and darkness with only the vague shadowy shapes of the trees to orient her.

Link’s hand was steady in hers. “Just keep walking,” he said, low and quiet.

They came upon a lit brazier that crackled with blazing flames. Here in the mist, the light was enough to make Zelda squint. Link released the horse’s bridle and bent toward the bottom of the brazier. When he straightened again, he gripped a torch in his hand, which he ignited on the flames.

“Hold this for me?” he asked, holding the torch out. Zelda took it with clammy hands and allowed him to seize the horse’s bridle again.

She expected him to start off immediately, but he took a moment to study the light of the brazier, his eyes following the burning embers as they floated from the tips of the flame. Finally, he turned to his right.

“This way,” he urged, stringing her along. She held the torch aloft and nearly tripped over herself in her desperation to stay close to him.

The fallen leaves crunched beneath her boots. The wind howled through the air, tugging at her clothes and her hair, whistling through the empty trees in a way that made the entire forest groan. Goosebumps crawled up her spine, raising the hairs on her arms.

Every now and then, Link would pull them to a stop and stare at the torch in Zelda’s hand with a furrowed brow. After a few moments, he would turn a seemingly random direction and continue forward, his steps confident despite his limp. No wonder he was the only one who could navigate through this place. She would have lost herself within minutes. 

They passed a few more lit braziers on their journey, and Zelda wondered how they were lit at all, considering nobody came here besides Link. She wanted to ask, but her voice was stuck in her throat. She feared that any noise she made would invite the tree limbs to reach down and snatch her up, or a monster to barrel out of the mist and attack her. 

“We’re almost there,” Link said, sensing her fear. He laced his fingers with hers and gave her a gentle squeeze. Somehow, that one small gesture made her steps feel a lot lighter. 

They passed between two tall rock formations, the tops of which disappeared into the mist just above their heads. Zelda gazed around her with barely-concealed wonder. Below them, the dead leaves gave way to soft grass that bent easily beneath their boots. 

Ahead, a hollowed-out tree trunk designated their path. Zelda hesitated, but Link quickened his pace, dragging both her and the horse along in his wake. Even though the trunk stretched high above them, Zelda still ducked when she walked through, afraid that spiders or birds would swoop down and land in her hair. 

It wasn’t until they were halfway through the hollowed log that she began to hear the music. It was soft, like a band playing several streets over in Castle Town, but it grew louder with every step they took. Link shot her a sheepish smile. “I think the ones that were with us warned the others we were coming.”

They left the shelter of the overturned log, and Zelda’s mouth fell open in shock. 

The light was a little brighter here, though the thick canopy of trees still obscured much of the sun overhead. Grass grew high above their knees, but the trees were inviting instead of menacing, draped in bright green moss and positively bursting with life. The air was heavy with the scent of nectar and resin, as opposed to the cold, dead smell of the Lost Woods just steps away. Soft giggles tumbled through the air all around them. 

Link tugged Zelda alongside him, his steps more sure as they neared the center of the forest. Overhead, the forest spirits danced along the tree boughs. 

“Welcome home, Link!”

“We missed you!”

“Will you come play a game with me?”

Shouts of joy and welcome surrounded them on all sides. Zelda’s fear transformed into an awestruck wonder. 

Her boot brushed against something hard. She looked down and was surprised to see that they stood before a flat triangular platform, the center of which contained a short, empty pedestal. 

Link gestured to it as he pulled her up onto the platform. “This is where I drew the sword, in case you wanted proof.”

Zelda shook her head. “I haven’t doubted since the night you told me.”

Above them loomed the largest, widest tree in the forest. Zelda had to crane her neck to look up its wide trunk, and even then the tops of the branches disappeared in the fog that still lingered overhead. In the center of the trunk, a carved, wizened face began to speak. 

“Welcome back, Hero. I see you have returned with the carrier of the goddess’s magic.” The tree’s mouth formed the words, but Zelda still could not believe that the voice was echoing out of it, so deep and sincere that a shiver wracked her body. 

Link stared up at the tree and cracked a smile. “I got into a little bit of trouble, but I’m here now. And I need your guidance.”

The Deku Tree – for that was the only explanation for this arboreal vision – replied, “You are injured. And you are tired. Come, rest. The time for guidance will come, but you cannot hope to defeat the evil that looms if you are unprepared for your journey.”

The mention of rest narrowed Zelda’s focus inward. She had not slept for more than a day. Neither had Link. They had spent the entire day running as fast as they could to the safety of the Lost Woods, and neither of them were thinking very coherently. 

Link turned to Zelda and gave her a sheepish smile. “Well, then,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Would you like to see my home?”

Chapter Text

Link didn’t disguise the way his hand was shaking as he clasped Zelda’s fingers and led her right into the Deku Tree’s navel. Part of the trembling came from the lack of sleep, of course. He hadn’t exactly been dreaming peacefully in his cell, so it had been several days since he last experienced true rest. Part of it was leftover from his injuries, which had begun to smart and sting from the overexertion of their mad dash from Castle Town. And part of it was just plain nerves. He was terrified to show Zelda exactly how he had been living for the last five years while she had been pampered with maids and banquets and warm fireplaces. He did not want to be a disappointment to her. 

The three rooms inside had been kept tidy, thank the goddess. Nothing would be more mortifying than Zelda stepping on a pair of dirty socks as she made her way into his home for the first time. A fire had been stoked beneath the cooking pot in the center, basking the whole place in warmth. A few of his pilfered items had been stored around the perimeter of the main room. He didn’t have drawers or wardrobes, so most of it was kept in bags – a few for his clothes, some for his boots, some for the various weapons and trinkets he hadn’t gotten around to sorting. The vast majority of it, of course, was stolen. He always felt some measure of guilt keeping items for himself, but it certainly made living here alone a little less depressing. There were stacks of books taken from passing carriages and a few bits and baubles here and there just to add a touch of personality to the space. Anything of real value had been sold off and distributed to the nearby villages long ago.

Zelda stopped in the center and sent a long, sweeping look across the entire space. Link watched her anxiously, sure that some measure of disappointment would cross her features, that she would wrinkle her nose and shake her head and demand that he return her to the castle at once.

Instead, she pointed to one of the alcoves. “What is that?”

Link followed her finger to the place where one of the koroks, Natie, was busy arranging mushrooms on makeshift counters. His face heated.

“Uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, when I first started living here, they were curious about the conventions of…well…stealing. I tried to explain it to them, and for some reason a few of them really caught on to the idea of a store. Natie sells mushrooms, and the other place is sort of a… general shop, of sorts. I give them little trinkets to sell off when I come back from traveling.”

Zelda turned toward him, her eyebrows raised. “Who do they sell to?”

Link fidgeted and shrugged. “Well…just me, really. I give them rupees to shut them up. They usually sneak the rupees back into my bags, or I find them around the Deku Tree since they don’t exactly know what to do with them.”

To Link’s surprise, Zelda pressed a hand to her mouth and giggled. Her eyes brightened, and she turned to him with a wide smile on her face. “That’s adorable.”

Link relaxed. Nothing seemed to have turned her away. Yet.

“I’m, uh…” Link started, tugging at the bottom of his borrowed tunic. “I think I should try to wash up a little bit. I haven’t really been clean in a few days.”

Zelda cocked her head to the side. “Do you have a bath here?”

Link blushed. “Just a river. Is…is that okay?”

Zelda seemed to contemplate for a moment before shrugging. “I suppose it’s as good a place as any. Do you want me to help you with your bandages?”

It took some time, and no small amount of wincing and grunting and resting by the river bank, but Link managed to clean himself of the muck and mire that had been clinging to his skin for the last several days. He did have to yank on a clean pair of pants and beg help from Zelda to wash parts of his upper body, seeing as his bandages restricted his movement in ways he did not anticipate. She did not begrudge him his weakness, instead dragging a clean, soapy cloth across his shoulders with all the care of a nurse caring for her charge.

He pulled on a new clean tunic and returned to the Deku Tree’s navel to give Zelda privacy to bathe and change as well.

He stopped at the foot of his bed and grimaced. Of course he was going to sleep on the floor, but his back ached in protest at the notion. Still, he forced himself to pull his spare, less-than-comfortable bedroll from beneath the bed. He shook it out before draping it on the floor. He had just started to pull some extra blankets from the bags near the head of the bed when Zelda’s voice interrupted him.

“What are you doing?”

He turned to face her, and his heart almost stopped. In all their years of friendship, Link had only ever seen Zelda dressed in the royal garments of a proper princess. Even when she was in her nightgown the first night of the tournament, she had still been covered in an embroidered robe, shining with wealth.

Now, she wore a simple cream-colored gown with ties at the front, no other adornments anywhere to be seen. It had been gifted to her by one of the Castle Town residents, all of whom had spared nothing when equipping them for their escape. The simplicity of the clothes, paired with the wet strands of hair that dripped onto her shoulders and the bare feet that trod softly on the mossy floor were almost enough to undo him completely. The mask of the princess had fallen away. She was Zelda. Fierce, intelligent, brave, cunning, capable. But no longer the princess. Not here, anyway.

“Um,” Link said, straightening fast enough that his back strained. He winced and gripped harder to the blanket while he waited for the pain to pass. “I’m… just getting my bed ready for tonight.”

Zelda took a step forward, and a crease formed between her eyebrows. “No, absolutely not. You will not be sleeping on the floor with your injuries in their current state.”

She reached for the blanket clutched in his hands, but he held fast and pulled it to his chest. “Well, I’m not going to be making the princess of Hyrule sleep on the floor, either,” he protested.

Zelda glowered at him, and he glowered right back. Truthfully, he didn’t care where he slept at this point. He just knew he wanted to sleep.

“We can share the bed,” Zelda said.

Link took a step back, appalled. “What?”

Zelda turned toward the bed and began pulling the covers down on both sides. Her hair fell in front of her face, but it did little to hide her blush. “You’re injured. We’re both exhausted. It’s not like we’ll be… doing anything. No one is here to report us, and it’s not like sharing a bed with me will make anyone hate you more than they already do.”

“Zelda,” Link began, heat pooling on his cheeks. “It’s not just that…I know that we’re alone, but I’m not…I don’t…”

Zelda turned and sat on the edge of the bed. “We can talk more about it tomorrow. And if you want, we can also come up with a different sleeping arrangement. But please…I’m exhausted. You’re more tired than I am. You desperately need rest, and the floor is not going to give either of us what we need. I don’t have the energy to argue about this.”

With that, she lifted the covers and slid her legs under them, releasing a relieved sigh when her head fell onto the pillow. “Come on, Link. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Uncomfortably, Link set down the blanket in his hands and shuffled to the other side of the bed. He didn’t want to argue anymore, either. He should have put up more of a fight, but the sight of her body sinking into the mattress was far too tempting. 

Link settled on the bed, the familiar smell of the sheets a soothing balm to all that had assailed them in the last several days. He couldn’t help the deep sigh that escaped his lungs. 

“I told you,” Zelda said, turning on her side and propping herself up enough to adjust the blanket over them both. 

Link nuzzled his face into the pillow. “You can’t fault me for at least attempting chivalry.” 

Zelda laid her head down onto the opposite pillow. They faced each other, neither of them touching, neither of them sure what to do next. Link was so exhausted, he was surprised he didn’t just fall asleep right there. It was only the wide eyes and soft pink blush of the princess that kept him from succumbing to oblivion. 

“Are you comfortable?” Link asked, tucking his arm under his head. 

She brought her hands together under her chin and nodded. “It’s much more… inviting here than I expected it to be. I thought you were sleeping on the ground and scrounging for your food for the last five years.” 

Link’s lips curled into a smile. “I’ve done my fair share of that, but the koroks and the Deku Tree have always been kind when I’m in their forest. I’ve wanted for nothing here.” He hesitated, then licked his lips and scooted an inch closer. “Well, almost nothing.”

Zelda’s hand stretched out between them, sliding across the smooth sheets before halting halfway to Link. He stared down at it, unsure what she expected from him. 

It was ridiculous. She’d been on his lap before, their lips pressing together hungrily in his tent. He still bore some of the marks her teeth had left on his skin. 

But that was different. They had just reunited for the first time in five years. The weight of the tournament and the revelation of his role as the Hero pressed upon them, spurring them to take full advantage of every moment they had together. 

Now, the way forward was uncertain. They were alone in a forest with no plan in place. Link still suffered the pain of his wounds. And Zelda was far from her home, away from everything she had ever known. She was frightened, he was sure. They both were. 

Suddenly, the memory of his own first night within the Deku tree sprang to his mind. He recalled his fear, his loneliness, his uncertainty concerning what he should do to help those he loved. How he had curled up in this very bed and wept that no one was there to hold him. 

The memory made his decision for him. 

Instead of grabbing her hand, he whispered, “Can you turn to face the other way?”

Zelda’s eyes widened the slightest amount, and her lips tilted down into a frown. Slowly, she turned over, until all Link could see was her long blonde hair cascading over the pillowcase. 

He inhaled deeply to gather his courage. How was it that he could face down a lynel with ease, but the thought of holding the woman who loved him made his hands tremble? 

He released his breath and wrapped his arm around her waist. 

Her response was a soft, “Oh.” 

“Is this okay?” he asked, tugging her toward his chest. She was warm, the fabric of her borrowed nightgown soft where it bunched beneath his hand. 

Her fingers found his arm. “Yes,” she sighed. 

He slid his other arm under her head, curling it around her body so she was fully encased in his embrace. She leaned back, and he pressed forward until their bodies were completely aligned. Her hair against his cheek, her spine curling into his chest, his knees pressing into hers. He closed his eyes and breathed her in, filling his lungs with her scent. 

Impulsively, he raised his leg and draped it over her. She chuckled under her breath. He felt it in the movement of her sternum against his wrist.

“Sorry,” he said into her hair, smiling bashfully. “I went a long time without being close to someone like this. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” 

She pulled the blanket up over both of them. Soon, there was no sensation except for her. Her scent in his nostrils. Her warmth between his arms. Her silhouette filling his vision. Her soft breathing. It was all her. Only her. 

I love you, he wanted to say. He wanted to tilt her head back toward him and kiss her. But he wasn’t sure how to do that. Wasn’t sure how to behave now they were here, alone. They had done so many things out of order. 

She pulled his arms tighter around her, and his anxious thoughts dissolved. Time for contemplation would come later. Now, it was time for rest. 

It took him longer than he expected to fall asleep like this. He was so used to sleeping alone. Every time she moved, he jolted awake, squeezing her close to his chest. She seemed to have just as much trouble finding rest. Every now and then, a shudder would run through her, and he would press soft kisses against her temple and the crown of her head to calm her. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to. They used the language of their bodies to comfort each other. Gentle squeezes, soft caresses, every touch precious in the remote woods, away from everything else. 

Eventually, Link succumbed to the exhaustion that pulled at him. In his dreams, Zelda held his hand, drew his arms around her, and kissed him into oblivion. 

— — — 

Link opened his eyes to a pounding headache, agony in his back that made him groan into Zelda’s hair, and a parched tongue that felt like sandpaper in his mouth.

Stirred by his uncontained noise of pain, Zelda opened her eyes. She had been half-pinned beneath him in the night, and she pulled her arm out from under him with a grunt before sitting up. “What is it?” she asked, reaching for his face. He wanted to roll on his back, but the pain was too great. Instead, he flipped onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow with a moan of agony.

He barely registered the feeling of her slipping from the bed. He just stayed there, waiting for the pain to pass, praying to the goddess that something, something would give.

“Here, sit up,” Zelda finally said, touching his shoulder with gentle fingers. It took him a long time, but she was patient, and soon he was sitting upright and reaching for a flask of water she held out to him.

He let it coat his tongue before turning his head and spitting it onto the floor.

“What?” Zelda asked, her voice shrill.

Link wiped his mouth and held the flask back out to her. “Did you get this from the river?”

“No, from the small pond outside. I thought—”

“That water isn’t clean, Zelda. You have to get it from a better source. No standing water.”

She jerked the flask from his hand and rushed out of the room again, returning a few minutes later with her eyes downcast. She held the flask back out to him.

He took a long swig, letting the cold water soothe his parched throat. When he finished, he reached out and settled a hand on her arm. “It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

Zelda looked pointedly away. “I did know, though. I just…I never had to think about where the water came from in the castle. It was something I knew in my head, but…”

He squeezed her elbow. “It’s okay. Take a breath. This is your first day here. You’ll get used to it.”

She looked up at him with eyes that were limned with silver tears, and she hugged her arms to her chest protectively. “I’ll learn. I swear, I’ll learn as fast as I can.”

Link tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know you will. I never had any doubt.” He pressed a hand to the bandages that wrapped around his torso and chewed the inside of his cheek. He wished he had a fairy to speed along his healing, but he had used his last one on healing the horse that had eventually led to his capture. He knew that he could reliably find fairies at the top of the Deku Tree, but his injuries would not allow him to make that kind of climb.

It seemed as though he would be relegated to the sidelines for the next several days.

He just had to trust that Zelda was a fast learner. 

— — — 

That first day was hell for Zelda. Link was obviously in pain, but he was trying his best to hide it from her, to little effect. Zelda changed his bandages using the spares the citizens of Castle Town had packed in their bags, and she helped him hobble outside to get some fresh air. Still, it didn’t feel like enough.

Outside, she floundered as he tried to direct her through washing their travel clothes in the river and gathering a few supplies for their meals. She didn’t want to admit that she had never done her own laundry before, but Link was probably able to figure it out. 

The koroks, at least, pointed out some of the edible herbs, vegetables, and mushrooms for her to pick for their food. But her fingers were clumsy as they plucked the fungi from the ground, and she accidentally harvested a few vegetables before they were ready to be consumed. She had studied plenty of these in the castle greenhouses, but there were so many species variations that she ended up ruining far more than she expected.

At one point, she tripped and fell-face first in one of the shallow ponds surrounding the Deku Tree. An hour later, still dripping, she skinned her knee on tree bark in an attempt to reach a particularly ripe apple. Her mind was ready for this forest, but her body simply was not. She blew her hair out of her face, frustrated with herself, and refused to meet Link’s gaze every time she set a new edible morsel on her slowly-growing pile.

For lunch, Link sat beside the cooking pot and helped Zelda prepare a simple meal of roasted vegetables that were surprisingly difficult to get right. She under-salted and over-cooked, but she still refused to let him help, noticing the way he winced every time he tried to move his arms. He ate every bite, but she could see the disappointment in his features at the taste, which only served to make her feel more miserable. 

He fell asleep after lunch, much to her relief. She did not want to continue floundering under his scrutiny and botching her attempts to fit into the life he had carved out for himself here. While he slept, she gathered a few herbs that she had seen growing around the clearing and used them to replenish the poultice that she had used to treat his wounds. 

When he awoke, she was busy mashing the herbs with a mortar and pestle she had found in one of his bags. When he questioned her, she snapped at him. Actually snapped at him, just for asking what she was doing! 

She was not doing very well. 

She procured a bottle to store the poultice and washed out the bowl in the river, then came back and apologized to him for having such a short temper. He assured her that there was nothing to be sorry about.

He cooked dinner in silence. They ate in silence.

It was nothing at all like she had imagined her first day alone with Link. She had dreamed of tender kisses, sweet laughter, dancing in the moonlight. Instead, she had succeeded in disappointing him at every turn. 

When they were done eating, and the sun was beginning to set overhead, Zelda settled on the floor beside the cooking pot and said, “I thought this would come a lot easier to me. I studied so much of the wild in books and in the Sheikah research labs. But out here…it just seems so…so much. ”

Link scratched at his leg, where his bandage was hiding beneath his pants. “Studying this in a lab and actually applying it are two very different things.”

She wanted to scream in frustration at his patience and gentleness with her. “I know that in my head, but it doesn’t make it any easier when I’m actually trying to apply it without you doing it beside me.” She looked down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just…it was a childish fantasy, but I always imagined that if I ever found you again, our days would be a lot less frustrating. And — you know — more…romantic.” 

Link was silent for a moment, and Zelda’s face and neck heated. In an attempt to move past what she had just foolishly admitted, she reached for their plates and gathered them in her arms. “Sorry,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll just wash these.”

Link held out a hand and began to rise, grimacing as he did so. “Wait, no — I’m so sorry, Zelda. I didn’t even think…I was just trying to get us situated, and…I can be more romantic if you want.” 

Zelda laughed humorlessly and shook her head. She couldn’t even meet his eyes. “Sweet Hylia, I’m not asking for that. I’m just…” She readjusted her grip on the plates. “I’m trying to be…honest, I guess? I’m not sure how I feel. Or how I want to feel.” 

Link reached across the space between them and settled a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find it,” he assured her. “We have a lot on our plate. A lot of changes to face. We’ll find our rhythm.” 

She raised her face to his. He seemed earnest. He didn’t look angry with her, as he should have been. Instead, he took a step closer to her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that astounded her. 

She swallowed. “I should go wash these plates.”

Link shook his head. “We can wash them in the morning. You don’t have to do it all at once, Zel.” He slid his hand down the length of her hair. “Take a breath. I’m injured, you’re tired. There’s chores to do, yes. But nothing has to be done on a schedule.”

Her eyes burned as he took the plates from her hand and set them on the floor beside the cooking pot. Then, he reached out and folded her into his arms. 

She leaned her head against his shoulder and gripped his tunic, too afraid to wrap her arms around him for fear of aggravating the lashes on his back. But just this—just the gentle embrace, the steady warmth—it was enough to release some of the tension from her shoulders. 

“I’m trying,” she said into his tunic. It sounded like a plea. 

He rubbed his hand down her spine. “I know, darling,” he said. “All things considered, you did very well today. And you’ll do even better tomorrow. And the day after that.”

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut and breathed him in, imagining that there was nothing in the universe except his arms around her. He was right. They would find their rhythm. It would be hard. But they would do it together. 

Chapter Text

Zelda knelt before the goddess statue in the center of the Deku Tree and clasped her hands together in prayer. It had become her nightly ritual to do this, but still her powers refused to show themselves, no matter how hard she tried. 

It had been a confusing and tumultuous few days, to say the least. Link slept most of the time, but when he was awake, he was usually trying very hard to perform tasks well outside of his current physical abilities. They had more than a few tiffs when Zelda attempted to stop him.

Zelda strived to give herself some grace with learning the ropes of forest dwelling, but every time she failed to cook a meal to perfection or floundered in an attempt to help Link carve shafts for new arrows from fallen tree branches, she felt the weight of her presence a little more. She was a burden, a regret that Link would carry and not speak of. 

Some of the little “goodies” that the Koroks had packed from her room were actually some of the few things keeping Zelda sane. There were the Sheikah tomes, which she took to studying during Link’s many naps or late at night when she couldn’t sleep. But they had also packed things like her science notebooks and even her personal diary, which she had promptly hidden from Link, lest he find out exactly how much she had pined for him during their years of separation. The science notebooks were invaluable when it came to developing ways to improve day-to-day life here in the Korok forest. She rigged up a pulley system to pull the clotheslines up and down with ease. She was halfway through designing a way to section off portions of the river so they had a place for bathing, a place for washing, and a place for gathering drinking water. 

And yet, it still did not feel like enough. 

She was absorbed in her prayers, desperately praying for the goddess to grant her some wisdom in living here, when one of the koroks approached her slowly. 

“Miss Princess?”

Zelda glanced down at the little korok with a raised eyebrow. She still could not tell them apart by name yet, and a blush heated her cheeks when she addressed the sweet creature. “Yes?”

The korok sketched the smallest bow, something she did not encourage, but something all of them did anyway. “Mr. Hero wants to see you on the pedestal.” 

Zelda bit her lip to keep a smile from showing. Since the Koroks began calling her Miss Princess, they had taken to calling Link Mr. Hero to match, much to Link’s dismay and annoyance. 

“Did he tell you what he wanted?” 

The korok shook its head and gestured with a stubby arm. “Just come along!”

With a sigh, Zelda rose to her feet. It was late, and she was already dressed in her nightgown. But she would not refuse Link if he needed her. She would do anything to ease his burdens.

She stepped out of the Deku tree and walked toward the pedestal that once contained the Master Sword. Link’s silhouette was visible there among the glowing lights in the trees, shifting from foot to foot. His soft green tunic and loose cotton pants made him look warm and cozy, and she wanted nothing more than to run into his arms. But she held herself back, unsure what steps to take in this strange dance they had been performing. At night, they held each other close, neither of them broaching the subject of different sleeping arrangements after that first night. During the day, they had hardly so much as kissed or professed their love, too entrenched in their own worries to pay the other much attention. 

He turned to face her when she approached, his eyebrows raised. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” Zelda answered, stepping onto the cool stone platform. She rubbed her hands awkwardly up and down her arms. “What did you need from me?” 

Link frowned. “I thought you needed something from me.” 

Zelda pointed back to the Deku Tree’s navel. “One of the Koroks told me you wanted to see me?”

Link closed his eyes and shook his head. “That’s what Pepp told me. They’re playing some sort of game.” 

Zelda’s mouth curled up in an amused smile. “Trying to lure us out here? For what?” 

As if that were the cue they were waiting for, the Koroks in the trees began to perform. 

Zelda had grown accustomed to their music since arriving here. Many of them played instruments or sang together for their own enjoyment, but it was usually a cacophony of noises that served more as a distraction than a comfort. 

But this…this was a symphony. A soft, slow beat. A lilting melody. Harmonies that rose and fell as if the forest itself was taking a breath. It wrapped around Zelda, lifting her sunken heart, and she glanced up at Link to gauge his reaction. He did not seem annoyed, as was his usual emotion when it came to the korok’s tricks. Instead, he seemed pensive, biting half of his lower lip as he watched the koroks dance along the tree boughs. 

Then, a little shout from above, from a korok that Zelda still did not recognize: “Dance with her, Mr. Hero!” 

Zelda’s gaze shot to Link’s. His cheeks had grown flushed, and he stared at her with wide eyes, his lips slightly parted at the notion.

“I…”

“Dance!” another korok yelled.

Zelda’s face heated, and she swallowed the lump that rose to her throat. As awkward as she had been feeling lately, she had to admit that she wanted to dance with him…very badly.

“Dance! Dance! Dance!” Soon, the entire forest was alive with the chant, drowning out the music and ringing in Zelda’s ears over and over again.

Link threw his hands up in the air. “Alright, you little shits!” he called. Then, he turned to Zelda with a sheepish smile. “Care to humor them?”

Zelda bit her lip to hide her smile. “Is it just because they’re asking, or do you really want to?”

The question made Link’s face soften, and his mouth tugged up at the corners. “I do want to.”

“Then by all means.” She dipped into a curtsey as she would have at the castle, only to find Link staring down at her with uncertainty painted across his face. “What?”

“Uh…I don’t really know the court dances.”

“Oh…” She didn’t know how to hide her disappointment. “Do you know any dances?”

Link shrugged. “I know some village dances from the east.”

“I don’t know those,” Zelda said, frowning.

The music lifted again as the koroks’ chants died down, exposing a slow, lullaby-like beat. Zelda closed her eyes and listened to the melody for the moment, trying to find a dance that would work for both of them. “Maybe we can just find our own rhythm.”

Link’s eyes sparkled. “Yeah, like that’s been working out for us in the last couple of days.”

Zelda took a step closer to him and held out her right hand. “I think we’re… getting better.”

Link’s hand curled around hers, lifting it up so their palms were pressed together. His other hand found the curve of her waist, then slid around to the small of her back, pulling her close until she was completely aligned with his body. “Is this okay?” he asked.

She settled her hand on his shoulder. “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

He began to sway them back and forth, awkwardly at first, then more confidently once he found the rhythm with his feet. He avoided her gaze at the outset, staring instead at their intertwined hands, or at the forest around them.

“I’m sorry,” Zelda said, unable to hold her tongue. “I know we said after the first day that we’d find our rhythm, but I feel like it still hasn’t happened yet.”

Link shrugged. “It’s okay. I never said it would happen in a day, or even in a week. You’ve just gone through one of the biggest life changes you’ve ever had to face, and I’ve been too injured to ease you into it. Our circumstances are working against us.”

“Still, I thought—”

“Zelda, stop. You’ve been apologizing every day you’ve been here. It’s okay.”

“But we keep being so distant from each other.”

Link closed his eyes and sighed. “I know.”

“Because you’re angry and disappointed with me.”

Link’s arm tensed around her waist, and he finally met her gaze. “ What? ”

Zelda opened her mouth to explain, but the words were lost on her tongue from the intensity of his eyes. Instead, she said, “Well…aren’t you?”

“Zel…goddess bless me, I am not angry with you.” He ended his sentence with a small, surprised laugh. “I’m angry at myself. And disappointed with myself. Because I got myself arrested and flogged and made it so that your first few days here were horrible.”

Zelda’s fingers clenched on his shoulder. “None of that was your fault.”

Link shook his head. “If I hadn’t gone to the tournament, or if I hadn’t been so cocky about my wins, I might have been able to get out unscathed.”

“If you hadn’t gone to the tournament, I would still be in the castle, about to marry the duke. And you would still be here.”

The notion made Link’s lip curl up in disgust, and he held her tighter, as if to protect her even from the mention of the Duke. 

Zelda’s stomach clenched, and suddenly the reality of what they had been struggling against settled atop her shoulders. Swallowing hard, she said, “Have we just been projecting our own frustrations with ourselves at each other this whole time?”

Link froze for a second, contemplating her words, before a laugh barked out of his mouth. “Yeah…yeah, I guess so. I’ve been certain you’ve been the one angry with me this whole time.”

Zelda couldn’t help her own laugh as she shook her head. “I’ve never once been angry at you.”

“You could have told me.”

“You could have told me!”

They laughed together, and Zelda felt some of her tension ease. These last few days of uncertainty – the awkward conversations around dinner, the strange avoidance of each other, the lack of kisses or affectionate words…all of it could have been avoided if they had just looked outside of themselves for one second. And yet, being here, with him…just this one conversation was enough to ease a little bit of that burden. She was a fool to think it would all be solved so quickly. More likely, they would have several conversations just like these, assuring themselves and each other of their devotion. 

Zelda stared into Link’s eyes, her relief palpable in her smile. His own smile could have doused the entire clearing in light.

He kissed her before she even registered how close he had gotten. His lips pressed to hers, firm and insistent, speaking of his own relief. Her hand on his shoulder slid into the hair on the nape of his neck. He dropped her other hand and curled his fingers around her waist, pulling her forward until she was bending into him, their bodies so close she could feel the heat of his skin through his tunic and her nightgown.

Before she could tilt her head and deepen the kiss, Link pulled away and touched his nose against hers.

“I love you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry I haven’t been showing it very well.”

Tears sprang to Zelda’s eyes, and she cupped his face in her palms. “I love you too,” she replied. She dropped a small kiss to his lips. “I haven’t been showing it very well, either.”

Link shook his head, grinning. “We’re both idiots.”

“We had circumstances working against us.”

Link kissed her nose slightly, inciting an even deeper blush. She wanted to burrow herself in his arms and stay there for the rest of the night. He squeezed her tightly, as if he was thinking the same thing, and said, “I think five years apart made more of a difference than I anticipated. But…I’m going to keep fighting for you. I never stopped loving you, and I’m planning on loving you for a long, long time.”

Zelda curled her arms around his neck and pressed a longer, deeper kiss to his lips. That was all the answer she needed to give. He held her close, his fingers digging into her back, and kissed her until the music died down around them and all that was left was the satisfied giggling of the koroks and the creaking of their secluded forest home.

A smile sprang to Zelda’s lips as they were kissing, and Link pulled back enough to raise a suspicious eyebrow at her. “What are you thinking?”

She grinned and extricated herself from his arms. “Oh, nothing…just…” She took a sly step closer to the Deku tree’s navel. Then, she burst into a run. “Race you to the cooking pot!”

“Hey!” Link’s affronted voice followed her across the glade, and soon his heavy footfalls were in pursuit. Her heart raced and the back of her neck burned with the knowledge of his proximity. She couldn’t stop her delighted laugh as they raced over the forest floor.

She had just stepped through the threshold of their little home when Link’s strong arms seized her from behind and lifted her up. She squealed and laughed, kicking her feet out, but he held her fast against his chest while he reached out and kicked the cooking pot to secure his victory. She wriggled in his arms, still mindful of his wounds, and cried out in dismay. 

“I win,” he grinned, letting her turn in his arms to face him.

“Shut up.” She pulled his face toward hers and kissed him. 

“You know, maybe I should start putting you through some exercises, seeing as I was able to catch you with my injuries,” he teased her. “You used to beat me when we were kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve had other things on my mind.” 

“Sure, but you’re here now. Starting tomorrow, we’ll get you nice and trained up so you can run with the Lost Bandit.” 

Zelda didn’t want to admit how much the thought thrilled her. “Can you teach me archery, too?”

He pressed his hands into the small of her back. “Your wish is my command, Princess.”

— — —

It was a clear, cloudless day when the small contingent of soldiers guided an opulent carriage through Bubinga Forest near Blatchery Plain. The party would have preferred to take the northern trail around the plain, but a hastily-erected sign on the road had warned of flooding from the swamp and directed them to the seldom-used path through the woods. The four soldiers were on edge atop their mounts. Two swords were already drawn, and eyes darted all across the dappled clearing, searching for anything amiss. Inside the carriage, a countess from Faron talked merrily with her lady-in-waiting, unaware of any present danger. She had paid handsomely for this escort back to Castle Town to join her husband for the emergency council meeting, and the king’s soldiers would no doubt protect her from any wayward monsters.

Ahead of the procession, an arrow sprouted in the middle of the path. 

The two horses in the front startled, but the soldiers calmed them down, even as their own necks began to bead with sweat.

The fletching on the arrow was forest-green, and the shaft was hand-carved. That was never a good sign.

The whole caravan slowed to a stop, the two horses in front of the carriage nickering in protest.

“Keep your eyes on the trees!” one of the soldiers shouted as he dismounted to investigate. He crouched before the arrow, heart thundering. Something had been wrapped around the arrow shaft, and his skin crawled with foreboding when he reached for it.

He pulled the piece of paper free and unfurled it. The letters made his gut tighten.

Mind your head.

Another arrow whizzed just past his ear, prompting a very unmanly screech to erupt from his mouth.

“It’s the Lost Bandit!” he cried, running toward his horse. Instead of fleeing, he drew his sword. “Find out where the arrows are coming from!”

The four soldiers broke off from the carriage as even more arrows began to fly – two impaled themselves into tree trunks, another landed between a horse’s hooves, causing it to rear up in fright. Yet another bounced off the shoulder plate of one of the attending soldiers and elicited a scream of terror.

“They’re coming from the north!”

“No, from the west!”

“Watch the tops of the trees, he can climb higher than a cat!”

As the soldiers began their wild goose chase, none of them noticed the dark figure drop down from the canopy overhead, landing noiselessly on the roof of the carriage. The countess had stuck her head out the carriage window, searching for the source of disruption, but she did not think to look above. If she had, she would have received the bounty for the criminal’s capture.

The figure bent down, produced a pocket knife from within the folds of their cloak, and sawed through the ropes binding the two large trunks to the carriage.

Ahead, arrows continued to fly, though this time with less consistency. A soldier spotted a figure jumping from one tree to the next, and he spurred his horse forward with a cry of fury.

The largest suitcase was lifted into the tree canopy and nestled in a cluster of branches before the second one followed. No one saw the tiny forest spirits dragging the trunks across the boughs.

When the suitcases had been carried a safe distance away, a strange bird whistle filled the air.

The arrows stopped flying as the figure in front disappeared from view.

The soldiers canvassed what seemed like every inch of that woods, from east to west, from north to south. And yet none of them glimpsed the perpetrator.

When they returned to the carriage, sweaty and exhausted, all that was left on the top of the carriage was a large korok frond. The soldiers glanced at each other in dismay.

The Lost Bandit was back.

And he seemed to have an accomplice. 

Chapter Text

Zelda’s breath seared out of her lungs as she jogged to the previously agreed upon rendezvous point near the edge of the forest. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck, and sweat trickled down her spine. The cool winter air felt wondrous against her flushed cheeks as she pulled her hood down around her shoulders.

She expected to see Link outside the line of trees, standing next to his treasure with a smirk on his face. But there was no sign of Link in the distance. 

She slowed to a stop before breaking the line of trees. She had the location correct, she was sure of it. They had gone over their plan three times before the carriage was even visible on the horizon. Had he been captured? Discovered?

Panic seized her in its icy grip, and she clenched her fingers around the forest dweller’s bow Link had lent her. She plunged straight down from the high of her victory like she had just leapt from the peak of Mount Lanayru. She couldn’t go on without Link. If the soldiers found him, they would find her soon enough.

She whirled on her heel, drawing her hood back up. She would have to go get him. She would track him down like he had taught her in the Lost Woods, and then she would—

“Gotcha!”

The canopy rustled overhead, and suddenly a large figure dropped down in front of her with a burst of laughter. She shrieked in surprise and swung her fist out on instinct. Her punch collided with the figure’s chest, and he cried out, “Ow!”

Zelda froze. Link was dangling upside down, his knees hooked around a tree branch, his cloak falling about his head in a curtain of fabric. His face was just barely in line with her shoulders.

“You idiot!” she gasped, landing another punch to his shoulder. “Do you know how much you scared me?”

Link’s delighted laughter could have rivaled that of the koroks. “I saw with my own eyes, love.”

She slammed her hands against her hips and glowered at him. “We were supposed to meet outside the woods. ”

Link shrugged. “Do you know how hard it is to carry two huge trunks through the treetops, Princess?”

She whirled on her heel and started to march away, but he reached out and tugged her cloak, pulling her back.

“C’mooon,” he said, still smirking. “Don’t be a spoilsport. You pulled off your first mission! You should be proud!”

“I think my first mission was escaping the Lost Woods under the nose of the royal guard last week.”

“True. But this time you actually stole something. Maybe I’ll get to give you a pretty new dress.”

Zelda wrinkled her nose. She knew the countess they had stolen from, and she knew all the frills and buttons and bows she liked to attach to every available inch of fabric on all of her outfits. “I think I’ll pass on this one.”

“Then how about a kiss?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. It would have been endearing if his hair wasn’t sticking up at all angles and his face wasn’t turning red from all the blood rushing to his head.

Still, he was too cute to resist. She cupped her hands around his cheeks and kissed him, upside down as he was. When she pulled away, he flipped himself expertly to the ground and hooked an arm around her shoulders. “Trunks are at the meeting point,” he said, giving her another smacking kiss against her temple.

“So you did get there before me.”

He grinned. “Just a little.”

They walked out of the woods together as if they were two lovers taking a stroll instead of two bandits that had just stolen a fortune from one of the members of the nobility. Zelda reached up and tapped the hilt of the Master Sword, which stuck out over Link’s shoulder under his cloak. “I still don’t think you should be carrying this around.”

“How else are people gonna know who I am?”

Zelda quirked an unamused brow at him. “Pretty sure they’ll know when all their stuff is stolen.”

“Maybe I just want to use the sword as a reminder of what’s really important.”

She squeezed his hand and resisted the urge to stare toward the castle. Learning banditry and survival in the Lost Woods was one thing, but she still hadn’t found a way to unlock her sealing powers, even in such a magical place like the Deku Tree’s home. The sight of the Master Sword, while it might be a comfort to Link, only served to make her more nervous. 

The two trunks they had stolen lay nestled in the grass, surrounded by koroks who seemed far too pleased with themselves for having assisted them with this mission. After three months of living within their forest, she finally learned to tell them apart, and she grinned affectionately at each of them when they greeted her.

“We should get these out of here before another patrol or caravan comes along,” Link warned, bending toward the trunks. He lifted one of them onto his shoulders with ease and turned to her with a smile. “Your steed awaits, m’lady.”

Zelda stared down at the remaining smaller trunk, her lip curled in distaste. “Sure, but she’s all the way back at the fort. You really think I can carry it that far after what I just did in there?” She hooked her thumb back toward the woods.

Link grinned and turned toward Fort Hateno. “The faster you pick it up and move, the sooner it’ll be over, darling.”

Zelda grumbled under her breath as she bent to hoist the trunk unsteadily in her arms. It was a little lighter than she expected, but still she knew she would be caked in sweat by the time they reunited with their horse.

Link had better have a plan for dinner by the time they reached the fort.

— — —

The weather became bitter cold the closer to Mount Lanayru they trekked the next morning, even though winter was supposed to be subsiding soon. The residents of Hateno would have to wait several more weeks before they saw the first signs of spring due to their proximity to the mountain. 

Zelda was grateful for her furred cloak that she had taken out of the castle, but her relative warmth waned whenever she saw how Link shivered under his own threadbare cloak. He had never commented on how much he missed his Lost Bandit cloak during their three months together, but she could tell it still weighed on him. She had offered on many occasions to give him her new cloak and sew a korok leaf on the back, but he had vehemently refused every time. He didn’t want to see the princess shiver anymore than she liked to see the hero shiver. 

They walked beside Zelda’s horse as they approached the village of Hateno from the north, well away from the main road. Her horse had grown stronger since they left the castle, no longer just being used for casual day rides by the royals, but still she could not hope to carry two trunks and two riders at the same time. By the time they neared the village, Zelda’s feet were positively aching. Link may have worked on her endurance, but she still had much more to learn. 

“My contact said that the Duke has been at the castle for more than two months,” Link said as they drew near the quaint little houses, “but I want to confirm his absence before we go in.”

Zelda didn’t object. While the Duke didn’t live in Hateno, it was still one of his most prosperous villages, so of course it meant that he raked them over the coals more often than his other settlements. He was more dangerous here than anywhere else. 

It seemed as though the village was in the middle of a celebration. Ribbons decorated the houses, red and green and blue and yellow, draping down over doorways and across windows. Candles flickered inside the window panes, creating a strange yellow glow over the city even with the sun still shining overhead. Evergreen wreaths decorated the front doors of all the shops, and bells chimed every time one was opened.

“What’s going on here?” Zelda asked as Link slowed her horse to a stop behind one of the buildings and pulled his hood back over his head.

“I think it’s their winter festival,” he answered. “Inviting the onset of spring.”

Zelda gaped at the village. She had been here before on diplomatic visits, but she had only ever stayed at the Duke’s house and gone riding in her carriage through the village proper. Approaching it as nothing more than a commoner was like visiting an entirely foreign world.

Link disappeared between two buildings with a promise to return in a few minutes, and Zelda leaned against her horse and observed the village from the outside. Smells wafted past her nose, ones that made her stomach grumble. Roasted meat, honeyed apples, cinnamon and nutmeg and clove. Oh, how she missed spices. Link did his best with what was available in the Lost Woods, but the spices in the castle kitchens were wholly unmatched. If she were a dog, she would be drooling over the kitchen fires already. 

She had missed the presence of people, too. Three months in the company of no one but Link and the forest spirits had started to grate on her patience. She loved Link, and she would never trade that time for the world, but it was nice to see a face that didn’t belong to her beloved. Nice to hear laughter that wasn’t high pitched and accompanied by the sound of maracas.

Down the street, a musician started to play an instrument. A trumpet or saxophone, something brassy that made Zelda think of the orchestra concerts she used to attend with her father back at the castle. It cut through the air, adding to the warmth created by the candles and decorations and the food roasting outside.

Tears pricked at her eyes. She would never admit this to Link, but there were parts of castle life that she sorely missed. Waking up to a fire already roaring in the fireplace. Stuffing her feet into warm slippers. A tray laden with a steaming pot of tea and buttery pastries waiting by her bedside. Oh, how she missed pastries. They had no oven in the Lost Woods. What she wouldn’t give to have a crumbly, buttery pastry on her tongue.

By the time Link returned to her, a tear had slipped down her cheek. She hastily ducked her head to hide it, but there were few things about her that Link did not observe.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, pressing his fingers to her chin to lift her face toward his.

She sniffed and looked away. “Nothing. I just…the festival looks so nice.”

The sentence did nothing to belie her internal struggles, and Link seemed to understand immediately. His shoulders dropped, and his brow furrowed as he wiped another tear from the corner of his eye.

“I understand,” he said, pitching his voice low. “It’s hard. Do…do you want to go back to the castle?”

“No!” Zelda said immediately, grabbing the front of his cloak. She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I just…” She trailed off, unsure how else to word her frustrations.

“You just miss people?”

She nodded.

To her surprise, the corner of Link’s mouth lifted up in a soft smile when she said that. “Well, you’ll like my news, then. The Duke’s still confirmed at the castle with his entourage, and most of this village has never seen my face. Those that have—well, let’s just say there’s little risk of being reported here. There’s not a single person in Hateno who’s very fond of the Duke. So…” He winked at her, his whole expression roguish and teasing. “Would you like to go to the festival with me?” 

She risked a glance toward the village, where that trumpet still played, loud and clear and inviting. “Won’t they recognize me as the princess?”

“Do you make many visits out here?”

“No.”

“Send any portraits this way?”

“Not that I’m aware of. And I haven’t had a portrait made in more than two years.”

“Then anyone who sees us will see a simple Hateno visitor with a green-eyed beauty on his arm that is way too pretty for the likes of him,” he said with a grin.

Zelda blushed and shoved his shoulder. “You should give yourself more credit. You are very handsome.”

This time, it was Link’s turn to blush. He kissed her nose, then turned to untie the two trunks from either side of Zelda’s horse. “Let’s get these to my contact first. Then, I’ll show you what village life is really like.”

— — —

An hour later, Zelda found herself holding onto Link’s arm as he guided her through the busy streets of Hateno. She felt a little out of place in her simple cream dress from the Castle Town residents, what with the brilliantly dyed dresses of the women patrolling the streets and the men in bright coats to ward off the winter chill. Still, she had decided to enjoy this day to its fullest, not knowing when they would next get to partake in something like this.

Link bought both of them mugs of hot apple cider, which they sipped slowly as they perused the wares being sold by the village residents. There was homemade jewelry and embroidery, spare ribbons for the festivities, chocolates and creamy beverages and toys for all the children. Children ran through the streets, screaming and giggling as they chased each other between the buildings. Women gossipped outside of the stores, and men haggled over the prices of the wares the same way they did in the Castle Town markets. It was so different from what Zelda was used to, and yet every inch of it felt like home. 

Link did not have many rupees to spare – he usually gave all of his spoils to the villagers and only accepted what they pressed into his hands – but he did cave to purchasing bowls of warm beef stew, which they ate outside the inn, watching the villagers on their merry way. 

Zelda saw the source of the music outside of a dye shop just down the street from the inn. A group of musicians traded off serenading the villagers with their instruments, and a few passersby dropped rupees into their hats as tips. She closed her eyes and hummed along with the music. When the innkeeper brought over buttery croissants, she tore into it like a ravenous wolf. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so incredibly happy. 

When the sun reached its zenith overhead, offering a little warmth to cut through the winter chill, the musicians struck up an upbeat tune and began inviting a few villagers to dance in the square.

Children rushed across the cobblestones before the musicians, jumping and spinning around in an imitation of the dances they likely saw their parents perform. Soon, a man led his wife into the fray, spinning her expertly before seizing her waist and guiding her around the square in an upbeat jig that had Zelda laughing into her bowl of stew.

Within mere moments, several people had joined the dance. They linked arms and skipped in circles around the children, then divided into lines and rushed across the cobblestones toward each other. The men twirled the women so hard their skirts whirled up around their knees. The children stomped their feet to the beat and clapped for their parents as they danced in circles. There were lifts and jumps and spins and jigs, all of them so much more energetic and bright than the drab court dances Zelda participated in at the castle.

When Zelda glanced toward Link, his foot was tapping to the beat, and he was grinning like a madman at the gathered villagers. 

“You know these dances?” Zelda asked, gesturing at the whirling skirts and cloaks.

Link shrugged one shoulder. “A few. You’re not the only one who gets frustrated with vagabond life.”

A bright-eyed young woman wearing an apron approached their table with a smile. “Well, I’ve never seen the two of you here before! You both from out of town?”

Zelda ducked her head on instinct, but Link leaned back in his chair and flashed her one of his signature boyish grins. “Just passing through. Thought we’d partake in your festival for the day.”

The woman glanced between Link and Zelda. “She your sweetheart?” she asked Link. 

Zelda blushed, and Link reached across the table to take her hand. “Sure is.”

“Are you two thinking of taking part in the ceremony, then? I’m worried nobody’s going to volunteer this year, seeing as our youngest couples aren’t even out of school yet.”

At this, Zelda finally raised her head to address the woman. “What ceremony?”

The woman smiled. “It’s a Hateno tradition. An old wives’ tale that any couple who gets married during the winter festival would guarantee a fruitful spring. All based on superstition, obviously, but the whole town gets involved. The ceremony takes place in the common house at the end of the street. There’s a feast, and dancing—”

“Wait,” Zelda interrupted, her pulse quickening at the notion, “you hope a couple will just… volunteer to get married during the celebration every year?”

The woman nodded. “It’s bad luck if you plan it in advance. Most couples just go with a regular wedding outside of the festival, but a few have done it on a whim. Last year, we had three couples hoping for the spot. One got it on a lottery, and the other two got hitched later. So we’re running low on candidates.” She said the last sentence with a raised eyebrow at the two of them. “Anywho,” she continued before Link or Zelda could say anything else, “you two need any more stew?”

She took their bowls and bustled away, and Link and Zelda stared at each other across the table, their faces red as Hylian tomatoes.

“She certainly drives a hard bargain,” Zelda said, reaching for her mug of cider.

Link rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Sure does.”

They said nothing else on the subject, even when the woman came back with two more bowls of stew, free of charge.

They perused more of the festival for the remainder of the afternoon and into the early evening. Zelda used the crafts on the tables and the little games set up in the square to distract herself from her desire to check out the Sheikah research lab being constructed just outside of the village. She had heard of the plans before running away with Link, and she wanted more than anything to poke her head in and view the progress. Likely anyone who would be working on the building was partaking in the festival, so there would be no opportunity to go inside. But it still didn’t stop her from staring at it longingly. Only Link’s constant presence and his proclivity for slipping sweets into her hand that she was sure he had nicked from some of the more well-dressed sellers was enough to distract her. 

When the sun finally began to set, a call went out down the street to invite everyone into the common house for the ceremony. Zelda assumed they would take their leave then, but Link shrugged and said, “Hey, it’s a free meal. Never wanna pass those up when they’re offered.”

So she allowed him to take her hand and guide her down the street as if they were just part of the village festivities. The people were a sea of reds and greens and golds, flushed cheeks and smiling faces, laughter and chattering. Despite what the Duke had stolen from them, these people seemed content with their lives. Happy to have a warm meal on the table and a hand to hold. The nobles, in contrast, had all the wealth in the world and still walked around the castle with what seemed like permanent scowls on their faces. Zelda wanted this . She wanted a home. A family. A purpose beyond her role as the goddess’s descendant.

She pressed herself into Link’s side and sighed. Perhaps, one day, they could have that together.

They found places at a long table toward the back of the hall, decorated with a crimson runner and evergreen centerpieces. Roast beef was served up on the simple wooden plates, ale was passed around for the older folks, and more apple cider was sent to the children’s tables. Zelda took one sip of the ale and wrinkled her nose at the taste. Link laughed at her and downed his mug and hers in quick succession. Soon, a delighted flush was painted across his cheeks and freckled nose, making him look younger and carefree, like the boy she had first fallen in love with.

After dinner, a hush fell over the crowd. A man stood up on one of the tables and raised his mug in a warm greeting.

“That’s Gaepora, the village mayor,” Link whispered into Zelda’s ear as the man accepted a smattering of applause. “He’s my contact here.”

“Welcome, one and all, to our annual winter festival!” Gaepora shouted, waving his hands in greeting. “It is my honor to lead this ceremony every year and usher in the welcome spring alongside my fellow villagers. The goddess has blessed us momentously this year!”

“Hear, hear!” a few villagers shouted, raising their mugs.

“And her blessings have continued on, even into this very morning! As you know, our not-quite-benevolent leader, Duke Ghirahim of Necluda—”

At the mention of the Duke’s name, boos and jeers erupted from the crowd. Some even went so far as to shake their fists in defiance of their Duke.

Zelda shot a surprised look toward Link, but he just raised an eyebrow. Below the table, his knee began to bounce up and down.

“Duke Ghirahim,” the mayor continued, laughing at the jeers, “has raised our taxes by—”

Another round of booing drowned out the numbers he spouted. This time, Zelda’s mouth twitched up into a smile.

“But I have good news! Much of our rupees have been returned to us by a dear friend of mine, the Lost Bandit! What was stolen from us is rightfully ours once again!”

Link’s epithet sent an explosion of cheering through the crowd before the mayor could even show off the wares that Link had brought. The two trunks from the countess were lifted onto the table next to the mayor, and their contents were overturned. Dresses, jewelry, and purses full of rupees spilled out in a waterfall of overabundance, greeting even more cheers from the crowd. Link, still flushed from his drink, somehow turned even more red and hid his face behind his hands.

“Because of his— ahem —generous donation,” the mayor said, eliciting low chuckles, “we will be able to provide funding for the school for another year.”

This time, the children started cheering first. It seemed as though this man couldn’t get through a single sentence without a loud reaction from the crowd. Toasts and blessings were all lifted to the Lost Bandit, wherever he was. Very few knew that he was sitting among them that very second.

“Now, now,” Gaepora said, using his arms to settle down the crowd, “on to the main event of the night. We have a ceremony to start, and our priest of Hylia is ready to marry any lucky couple who decides to step forward and usher in the springtime. So, as always, I open the floor to any volunteers!”

Despite the cheering and the booing from earlier, the response from the crowd was much more subdued this time. Heads looked this way and that, searching for any couple who might take part in the ceremony. Grandmothers nudged their granddaughters, drinking buddies kicked each other under the table, but no one stepped forward. Link’s leg was vibrating so hard under the table, Zelda was worried it would come right off.

“C’mon, everyone!” the mayor prompted. “Surely there’s a lucky couple out there who will take the honor? Remember, you get to stay in the inn’s honeymoon suite, free of charge!”

Some laughter followed that statement, but still nobody spoke up.

Until—

“I’ll do it.”

Zelda’s attention snapped upward so fast that she twisted her neck. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. She was dreaming. She had misheard. That wasn’t…

But no, it was Link’s voice. It was Link who was standing up, raising his hand in the air, his jaw set resolutely. It was Link who swept his gaze over the whole of Hateno, daring them to stop him.

And it was Link who looked down at her, eyes wide and face flushed, only to ask, “Zelda, will you marry me?” 

Chapter Text

All of the other people in the room disappeared as Link held Zelda’s gaze. There was no mayor, no villagers watching their every move, no doubt wondering who these two strangers were. It was just Zelda’s golden hair, Zelda’s green eyes, Zelda’s rose-petal blush. That was all he saw when she parted her lips and breathed, “I will.”

They were the two most beautiful words he had ever heard. Assuaging every fear he had ever harbored in his heart. 

She was going to marry him.

Applause rang out over the hall as Link took Zelda’s hand and pulled her to her feet. He hardly heard it. His focus was zeroed in on the way his blood rushed in his ears, the way that Zelda’s fingers – now growing calloused from the training he’d imparted on her with a bow and a sword – tightened around his, like he was the only thing keeping her upright. He tucked her hand into his elbow and led her to the mayor at the front.

The mayor, one of the only people in this entire hall who knew exactly who Link was — and knew the rumors of the company he kept— gaped at them openly. 

Gaepora’s eyes were wide as the moon when Link drew himself up short before him. “Link…” he said under his breath, eyes darting between him and the princess, “are you sure?”

Link nodded. “I am.”

Gaepora turned to Zelda. “Your Hi—”

Zelda held up a hand. “Just Zelda here, thank you. It’s a much more common name than you might think.”

His face turned red as holly berries. “And you both truly wish to do this?”

“Yes,” Link and Zelda said at the same time. Link’s heart thrilled at the determination in her voice.

Gaepora cleared his throat, then plastered on a smile as he turned to face the audience of villagers. “It looks like we have our volunteers! Visitors in town for our winter festival, and what better way to welcome them than by giving them the wedding of their dreams, eh?”

A few cheers and whistles followed his words, and the mayor turned his smile back on the couple. “Alright, you two, I will not stand for the guests of honor to be married in those drab clothes. Let’s get you ready for your wedding!”

At his proclamation, a group of women stepped forward and gestured for Link and Zelda to separate. Zelda looked up at Link, unwilling to be parted from him, but he nodded confidently. “Go,” he said, smiling. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

She disappeared behind a flurry of skirts, and Link was dragged to an adjoining room by another group of women.

— — —

Nearly an hour later, Link had been utterly transformed. The women had stripped him down to his undershorts and scrubbed him within an inch of his life so that his skin smelled like pine and cinnamon. His plain beige tunic was replaced with a deep, forest-green shirt with ties at the collar and a belt around his waist. He was allowed to keep his black pants, as he was shorter than most of the men in the village, but the women sewed up a couple of tears and scrubbed out a few stains before deeming them wedding appropriate. When he slid back into them, still a little damp, they looked as good as if he had just purchased them. 

His brown boots were polished, and his hair was combed and tied neatly back. A dark, one-shouldered cape with gold trim had been fastened to him, a little more ostentatious than he was used to, but still striking. He wished he could cap the whole outfit with the Master Sword, but he had left it with Zelda’s mare in an attempt to keep himself from being recognized.

The women deemed him suitable and left him alone in the room to finish the preparations for Zelda. In the main hall, he could hear the clambering of the other villagers as they readied the place for the ceremony. It was all so strange, and yet the only detail he could fixate on was the fact that he was about to marry the Princess of Hyrule.

Apparently, that detail was not lost on the mayor, either. The second Link was left alone in the room, the mayor burst through the door, red-faced and puffing.

“Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?” Gaepora asked, walking far too briskly up to Link for his comfort. He stood more than a head taller than him, and he cut quite an imposing figure. 

“Yes, I’m aware,” Link said, crossing his arms. “I love her, and she loves me. We’ve been living together for the last three months, and it is only proper that I give her the wedding she deserves.”

“Link, you have no idea how much danger this will put you and the princess in. I have no power here. The Duke has been at the castle for two months now, and since then the king has raised the taxes on the kingdom tenfold. I can’t pay anyone to protect you. I can’t even protect you myself.”

Link shook his head, incredulous. “The king raised taxes? Why?”

“He didn’t say. A proclamation was made a month ago, when you were still trapped in the Lost Woods. It had the royal seal and everything.”

What the hell? That didn’t make sense. From all that Zelda had told him, the king was the one fighting the nobles concerning the taxes, not the one raising them. Had the Duke discovered dirt on the king and used it to strongarm him into submitting? Was the Duke somehow using the manhunt for Link and Zelda to justify the tax hike to the king? 

Before Link could say anything else, Gaepora seized his shoulders. “Marrying the princess will just place you into deeper waters. I can’t watch you continue to tie yourself to the crown like this. It’s not right.”

Link took a step back, affronted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gaepora pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “Link, you know I have nothing but respect for you. You have helped our village countless times, and there are many people here who owe you their lives and their livelihood. There is nothing that I would deny you. But this is the princess, Link. The princess who is said to have been kidnapped by you. There have been more than a few raids on this village – violent raids – in an attempt to drive the two of you out. You are putting yourself in more danger by doing this, when you could save her and yourself by returning her to the castle. And she is putting herself at risk of losing her crown and her standing by marrying you. Think about the future, Link. I’m begging you. Think of her future.”

Link tugged at the end of his voluminous cape and scowled up at Gaepora. “I am thinking of her future. If she goes back to the castle after living with a single man for three months, do you really think that she’s not going to lose her standing then? Especially after she publicly declared her love for that same man? I have not laid a hand on her, but I doubt anyone would believe her words or mine. At least, in the eyes of the public, marrying her can preserve her honor. But at the castle, her reputation is already in tatters, and marrying me will not change it. She was already suffering before I came. She still has yet to awaken her sealing powers, Gaepora. If she goes back, she goes back to nothing.”

Gaepora shook his head. “You aren’t doing her any favors.”

“I would take her back to the castle in a heartbeat, if that’s what she wanted,” Link insisted. “She doesn’t want to go back there. She wants to stay with me . I am doing her every favor in the world by giving her freedom. Giving her a chance. Teaching her the skills to defend herself instead of forcing her to pass out in cold springs day in and day out. And on the point of my safety, I have already spent five years being the most wanted man in Hyrule. Marrying Zelda won’t send me any higher than number one.”

Gaepora pressed his lips together tightly and held Link’s gaze. Link did not back down. This was the right decision. He would never make Zelda go back to the castle if she didn’t want to. And marrying her would give them a better standing amongst the people, knowing that the Hero and the Princess were on the same team, were partners in every sense of the word.

And…he loved her. He had dreamed of marrying Zelda since he was a child. What better reason than that to take her as his wife?

“I’m going through with this,” Link said, squaring his shoulders. “You said you would deny me nothing. Please, don’t deny me this. It is the only thing I’ve asked of you in the last five years.”

Gaepora deflated, his breath shuddering out of his mouth as if he were withholding another lecture. Finally, he nodded. “Alright. I will not fight you on this anymore. I have said my piece. She is wise, and she knows the choice she makes, as do you.”

Link nodded. “Thank you.”

To Link’s surprise, Gaepora wrapped his arms around Link in a hug that nearly crushed his ribs. Link sputtered in surprise as his face was pressed into the burly man’s chest.

“You are a true Hero, and I knew that before you drew the sword,” Gaepora said, squeezing him even closer. 

Link patted the mayor’s back awkwardly. “Thank you?”

Gaepora released him and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll admit I’ve grown very fond of you in the last several years, and not just for what you bring to my community. It’s just…I never thought I’d see you do something for yourself, even if I might disagree on what that something is.”

Link’s face burned fiercely, and he rubbed his mouth with his palm to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Gaepora. I’ve grown fond of you, too.”

A fatherly hand rested on Link’s shoulder. “Of course, my boy. Now, since there seems to be no changing your decision, let’s go get you hitched.”

— — —

 Link had never actually witnessed a wedding before. He knew, in theory, what they were like. Zelda had described many noble weddings to him, and they always sounded exceptionally dull.

But this wedding didn’t seem like that kind of wedding. For one, instead of everyone dressed in their finest, most stuffy clothes, the villagers were decked out in ribbons and holly crowns. They were not sitting still in pews like in the Temple of Time. Instead, they sat at the long tables, conversing and laughing amongst themselves as Link was led to the front of the room. A statue of Hylia had been moved inside the space, and a wreath had been placed atop her head. A priest of Hylia stood before the statue, and Link only knew he was a priest because he stepped forward and introduced himself. He wore no priestly garb and flashed a jovial smile that contrasted with the harsh frown lines of the priests that Link had seen during visits to the castle as a child. Link couldn’t help but grin back when he gave the priest his name and the name of his future wife. 

Damn. His future wife. He couldn’t believe he just thought those words. 

Instead of rings, which Link and Zelda did not have to give each other, a plate of fresh, steaming bread and a roll of golden ribbon were placed on a table right next to the statue of Hylia. Link had no idea what either of those were for. He hoped to the high heavens that it didn’t show. 

He stood awkwardly at the front of the common hall, waiting for his bride to arrive, unsure if he should smile and wave or bow his head reverently to Hylia or do something in between.

He was about to turn to the priest and ask when a few Hateno villagers shouted, “Turn around!”

Link’s head snapped up, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Turn away from the door!” another villager laughed, lifting a finger toward Link.

Link pointed to himself. “Me?”

A whole table laughed and nodded at him.

Link turned and placed his back to the door. He didn’t like it. Not being able to see who might be sneaking up on him never went over well. But the violinist from the band in the back corner suddenly began to play a soft, slow song, and a hush fell over the crowd, settling Link’s discomfort. 

Zelda had just arrived.

He heard the door of the common hall creak open, and he heard a few soft coos from the older women of the village. Link looked at the priest. “Do I turn back around now?” he hissed.

The priest shook his head. “The bride will tap you on the shoulder and give you permission to look at her. It’s one of the ways that you both indicate your consent to the union.”

Link had never heard of that, but it seemed as though he was going in blind to the vast majority of this wedding business, anyway. The back of his neck prickled in anticipation. He could feel her stare on his shoulders, sense her radiant smile.

Zelda was going to be his wife.

Oh, shit. Zelda’s going to be my wife.

The thought was enough to make his knees weak with excitement.

A soft tap on his shoulder had him whirling around so fast that he nearly lost his footing. He blamed the two drinks he had earlier when his face heated and his stomach lurched and his jaw dropped to the floor.

Zelda was a vision.

She was always stunning, of course, but the Hateno villagers had somehow transformed her into the perfect balance between princess and commoner, someone who looked equally at home in a castle ballroom as the Korok Forest.

She wore a dark green corset with lacing in the front and puffy white sleeves that covered her arms and cinched at her wrists. Her tea-length, red velvet skirt swirled around her calves. A sprig of holly adorned her hair, tucking it behind one pointed ear. He wanted to kiss every inch of her flushed face, tug her into his arms and never let her go.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, taking her in slowly from head to toe.

Zelda grinned. “You like it?”

“Zel…I…I’m speechless.”

She stepped up to the goddess statue beside him with a brilliant smile. “You look quite dashing in green,” she said, reaching out to touch the end of his long sleeve.

“I’ll wear it every day if that’s what you want,” he said.

The priest cleared his throat, and Link and Zelda turned their attention toward him, blushing when they realized that the entire village had probably heard their words.

“My fellow villagers,” the priest began, gesturing to the audience. “We gather here every year at this festival hoping to end our night with a union like this one. And we are grateful that this young couple has stepped up to take part in such a longstanding tradition.” He gestured to Link. “If you would take your bride’s hands.”

His bride. His bride.

Link hoped that Zelda didn’t notice the way his palms sweat when he seized her hands in his.

“Link,” the priest said, turning toward him. “Do you take Zelda to be your wedded wife, in sickness and in health, whether rich or poor, during seasons of blessings and seasons of hardship?”

They had seen all of that together already. He had run through castle halls with her and sipped from crystal goblets, he had recovered from injuries and eaten berries taken from the wild underbrush. They had traveled further than they ever thought possible, faced hardship and uncertainty and unwavering opposition. But they had weathered it all together. Link squeezed Zelda’s hands and said, “I do.” There was no tremor in his voice.

“And do you, Zelda, take Link to be your wedded husband, in sickness and in health, whether rich or poor, during seasons of blessings and seasons of hardship?”

Zelda’s eyes were daggers piercing through him into the deepest depths of his soul. “I do.”

“Now, we invite you to partake in this bread as a pronouncement of blessings upon your marriage. It represents the hope that your plate will never go empty, and that your love will know plenty in every season.” The priest gestured to the loaf of bread. Zelda picked it up, looking about as lost as Link felt.

“Break it in half together,” the priest whispered to them, prompting a chorus of low chuckles from the attendees.

Link took one end of the loaf and Zelda took the other, and they both tore the bread perfectly in two.

“Your hearts represent two halves of a whole,” the priest continued. “You will both feed each other from the portion in your hand, a picture that represents giving your heart to the other for all eternity.”

Link had the suspicion that the priest was explaining these traditions only for their benefit, but he appreciated the effort. He tore a hearty piece from his half of the loaf, and Zelda tore one from hers. They pressed the morsels between each other’s lips.

The bread was buttery and flaky, and the piece practically melted on his tongue. He resisted the urge to moan out loud in front of the entire village.

“Now, as our final tradition,” the priest said, reaching for the golden ribbon. “I will tie your hands together and proclaim a blessing upon you from the goddess. Please clasp hands again.”

Link and Zelda scrambled to put the bread back on the table and do as he ordered. Link took Zelda’s left hand in his right and held it toward the priest. This tradition, at least, he was somewhat familiar with. The priest bound the ribbon around their wrists, wrapping it three times to represent the three goddesses who were said to pour their blessings out alongside Hylia.

Zelda turned toward the priest. “No vows?” she asked.

The priest raised his eyebrows. “Do you have any prepared?”

Zelda looked at Link, and Link’s eyes widened. He had no vows prepared. Did she?

It seemed as though she did, because she squeezed his hand and said, “They’re short, but…I want to say something.” She breathed in, slowly, through her nose. “I love you, Link. I loved you as a child, and I loved you when we were separated, and I love you even more now. I vow to love you forever, to follow you wherever you go. No matter what may come our way, no matter what we face, I vow to be by your side through it all.”

Link glanced down at his boots before he got choked up. Sweet Hylia, did she have to be this perfect?

He took a deep breath, then raised his gaze to hers again and forced the words out of his mouth, coming straight from his heart. “Zel, you are the bravest person I’ve ever met. I vow to be brave alongside you, no matter what happens, no matter what we may face. I vow to uplift you and show you how important you are, and I vow to be by your side through it all.” He stole a few phrases from her vows, but they were the best he could do. Judging by the tears forming in her eyes, it seemed she found them acceptable, at least.

The priest raised his voice in a prayer to the goddess, and Link bowed his head in reverence, listening to the blessings that were poured out. Little did their witnesses know that he was tying himself to the goddess’s very bloodline, the one who represented Hylia’s divine love for the people of Hyrule. He himself was the goddess’s chosen. It felt oddly right, marrying Zelda like this, within the presence of the very people he strove to protect. Everything he was fighting for was right here in this room. This ceremony was the perfect proclamation of his duty to Hylia and to her people. He couldn’t have chosen a better way to do it.

“Now, as priest of Hylia, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest exclaimed. “You may kiss your bride.”

Link was surprised. Zelda had described wedding ceremonies as long and solemn affairs, filled with sermons and hymns and long vows from the bride and groom. But the Hateno villagers seemed to think it was over, judging by the deafening roar that sprang up from the tables. Zelda looked just as shocked as he felt. But Link wasn’t about to argue for a longer ceremony. 

He stepped forward, curled his free arm around his wife, and kissed her full on the mouth.

— — —

The celebration lasted long into the night. Dessert and champagne was shared among all the villagers, and Link partook in so much cake that he felt like his stomach would explode if he ate any more. Zelda’s cheeks became even more flushed from a glass of champagne, and she grinned freely and accepted congratulations from all of the strangers with grace.

Every time a villager would shout for them to kiss, Link would waste no time in seizing Zelda’s face and planting one right on her lips. She did her fair share of grabbing his collar and pulling him to her mouth, as well, usually to much more hollering and whistling. 

Just before the dancing started, a child pushed open one of the double doors at the end of the hall and screeched, “It’s SNOWING!”

Laughter and applause followed his proclamation, and instead of the tables being pushed out of the way, the villagers streamed into the streets of Hateno to begin their dances.

Link and Zelda were offered the first dance of the evening. Link had expected the musicians to play a slow, romantic song just for them. Instead, they struck up an upbeat tune that immediately had the villagers clapping their hands and stomping their feet.

Link led Zelda into the center of the gathering, but Zelda protested, “I don’t know any of these dances!”

Raising their joined hands above their heads, Link grinned, “Just follow my lead.”

He spun her around so fast that her skirts fanned out around her knees, eliciting delighted giggles. Then, seizing her waist in one hand, he led her in a dance around the circle, their steps closer to jumps and skips than actual practiced movements. The villagers whooped, Link gestured for them to join, and soon couples were flooding the cobblestone streets in a whirlwind of skirts and cloaks.

Link seized Zelda’s waist with both hands. She pressed her fingers to his shoulders and allowed him to lift her high in the air, spinning her around while she threw her head back in an explosion of laughter. He had never seen her look so free. His heart had never felt so light.

They danced until they could no longer breathe, then took refuge from the cold inside the common hall for more dessert, and then danced again, and again, and again.

It wasn’t until Zelda sagged against Link’s chest, her breaths coming out in short bursts, that the mayor clapped his hands and announced that it was time for the festival to end. The villagers gathered around Link and Zelda to shower them with well-wishes and blessings from the goddess. Link wrapped his arm around Zelda’s waist and drew her close, planting one last kiss on her lips for the benefit of those in attendance.

Wolf whistles and loud ribbing followed them up the street to the inn, where Link wasted no time in scooping Zelda into his arms, kicking open the front door, and whisking her away to the honeymoon suite.

It was, with no uncertainty, the best night of Link’s life. And when Zelda pressed him up against the suite’s door, her mouth warm and desperate against his, he knew it would only get better from there.

When the lights of the village finally dimmed, and the citizens returned to their own homes, the Lost Bandit fell asleep with his wife between his arms and wanted for nothing more. 

Chapter Text

At first, Link had no idea what it was that dragged him from his blissful dreams of Zelda’s soft skin and shining eyes. 

And then, he heard the screaming. 

Zelda still lay sprawled across his chest, her hair tangled in his fingers. She was still sound asleep, but he did not give her any consideration when he sat up fast enough to jolt her off of him.

“What’s happening?” Zelda croaked, her words slurred as she blinked herself awake. She could no doubt sense the tension in his shoulders as the screams grew closer — followed by the smell of smoke. 

“Something’s wrong,” he answered, lifting the corner of the quilt and sliding out of bed. Zelda shook her hair out of her face, eyes still groggy, and watched as he pulled his pants on and jogged to the window.

When he opened the curtain, his skin went cold.

Hateno was on fire.

The blaze had started at the very end of the street, and already it was spreading across the thatched rooftops with a hunger that paid no heed to the freshly fallen snow. Families streamed out of their houses in various states of dress, some still in nightgowns and others pulling cloaks around bare shoulders as they ran for their lives. Children clung to their fathers’ necks. Men and women climbed through broken windows to pull out precious pets and loved ones who had slept through the beginning of the blaze. 

On the east side of the village, far away from the fire, the town bells began to ring in earnest. 

“We have to get out of here,” Link said, searching the floor for his discarded wedding shirt. He tugged the forest green tunic over his head and reached for his boots as Zelda slid out from under the covers. She glimpsed the blazing inferno outside, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Get dressed,” Link commanded. He kept his voice calm, but his pulse was racing. Was it an accident, this fire? Or was this a purposeful strike? He saw no sign of the Duke, but that didn’t mean anything in this chaos. There were plenty of ways to get around the village without using the main street. 

Zelda pulled her cream dress over her head with shaking hands and tugged the red pleated skirt on after it. Why had he not retrieved their saddlebags from their horse? Why had he not sent someone else to do it? 

He stuffed his other foot into his remaining boot as she reached for her corset.

“No time!” he said, tossing her boots toward her. “You’re covered. We’ll get your cloak at the horse.”

She yanked on her boots with shaking fingers, and Link helped lace one while she laced the other. Outside, the blaze was growing brighter, the screams getting louder.

“Go, go, go!” he said, pushing her toward the door. She raced out of the honeymoon suite and down the steps to the main portion of the inn. Link lingered in the hallway, where three other rooms had their doors shut tight. Two of them were unlocked and empty, thank the goddess. The last one was shut tight, and he banged on it with both fists, shouting to alert them to the fire. Once he heard moving around inside, he raced down the stairs to join his wife.

“Where did you put the horse?” Zelda asked as they rushed into the busy street. A few people had already started organizing a bucket brigade to begin dousing the fire. Some went for the water pumps, others ran for the wells further up the street. A woman tripped and fell in front of them, and Link reached to help her up. Behind the inn, he could hear the sound of horses’ hooves. 

“Just up the street, there’s a stable,” Link said to Zelda, pointing toward the east. That was another blessing — if he had chosen the western stable, their horse might already have been a goner. “Go, get her saddled.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have to help the others. Just go!”

Zelda raced toward the stables, and Link turned to face the burning flames. It seemed, at first glance, that most everyone had managed to evacuate the buildings before they caught fire. Many of the citizens were gathering as much water as they could to douse the flames, while others herded the children and the elderly toward safety.  

A group of men caught Link’s attention, all of them gathered just outside of a house that was already starting to blaze.

“She’s in the bedroom on the top floor!” A woman was screaming as two older villagers attempted to break down the door.

Link sprinted toward the house before he could come up with any sort of plan. Without slowing his speed, he sprang toward the wall with all the height he could muster and caught himself on the lower lip of the second-story window. He hauled himself up by his fingertips and used his fist to shatter the window, gritting his teeth through the pain of the glass slicing his skin.

He tumbled into a bedroom that seemed empty at first glance, but the sound of crying drew his attention to a small crib in the corner. A toddler had pulled herself onto her feet, and tears were streaming down her ruddy cheeks. Smoke was starting to fill the house. Link tugged the collar of his shirt over his nose to protect himself as he lifted the toddler into his arms and raced back toward the window. Just when he stepped onto the window ledge, the roof collapsed into the room behind him, sending a wave of smoke and debris and heat beating against his back.

He held the baby close to his chest and swung himself out of the window, landing on both feet right outside the house.

The woman screamed and wailed as Link deposited the child into her arms. He didn’t have time to accept her thanks. Instead, he rushed past the bucket brigade that was forming down the middle of the street and headed toward Gaepora, who was directing the able-bodied villagers in whatever way he could. Some were pushing shovels full of snow in a line a house or two down, creating a barricade of cold to keep away the fire. Others were filling buckets from water pumps and throwing them over the yet-unburned houses to keep the wood from catching. They were making progress, but still the fire raged. 

“What do you need?” Link asked, chest heaving from his exertion as he approached Gaepora. 

Gaepora’s eyes widened when he saw Link, and he seized him by the shoulders. “You need to get out of here. Now!”

“What? No! I’m staying to help. Have all of the buildings been—”

“Link, royal soldiers were spotted outside of the city limits. We believe they were the ones who set the fire.”

“Royal…” That wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. There was no way that the soldiers would set fire to the village under their protection. There must be some other explana—

“You can’t risk being caught. I’ve got everything under control here. You need to get out, now!”

A shout rang through the village, followed by the sound of galloping hooves. From behind the blinding flames burst a contingent of soldiers on horseback, their helmets drawn over their faces and their weapons raised. They nearly barrelled through the bucket brigade, and the villagers scrambled to get out of their way, losing precious water in the meantime. 

One soldier drove his horse to the center of the street and removed his helmet. On instinct, Link shrank back into the shadows below one of the still-intact buildings. 

It was Captain Ingo. His dark hair shone with sweat, and his eyes blazed with anger and determination and something that looked a little too much like pride when there was still an inferno blazing behind him. He swept his gaze over the surrounding buildings, both those that were ablaze and those that remained intact.

“Villagers of Hateno!” he cried, raising his glittering sword. “Word has come to us that you are harboring the notorious Lost Bandit amongst your ranks. What we ask is simple: hand over the criminal to the custody of the crown, and you will be spared.”

The bucket brigade continued to move water down the line, and the presence of heavier snowfall on the roofs of the more eastern building was slowing the flames. But Link knew that these soldiers could easily light more fires if they did not get what they wanted. A few of the villagers faltered, and some held each other close in the wake of the threat. 

Squaring his shoulders, Link took a step into the street. 

Two hands seized him, and a hand was slapped over his mouth. On instinct, he writhed and squirmed in the arms of his captor, until Gaepora’s voice hissed, “Don’t even think of going out there. You will not give them what they want. We can contain the blaze. You need to find your wife, and you need to run.”

“No one is going to step forward?” Ingo asked, turning his horse in a circle. The villagers all ignored him, still focused on saving their precious belongings and loved ones. The captain of the guard scraped his sword across his helmet to garner more attention. “We have more kindling and more sparks if anyone needs further convincing!”

Link bit the fingers of the mayor to make him release his mouth. He growled, “I won’t let him hurt your people just because he wants me.”

“He won’t—”

“Sir, over here!” 

Three soldiers appeared from up the street, on their feet instead of on horseback, but still well-armed. Link’s heart quickened. They had the whole village surrounded. If he was going to find Zelda and help the villagers, he would need to move fast. 

He shook off Gaepora’s hands and stepped into the shadows to face him. “I won’t abandon you,” he said, “but you’re right. I’m not keen to get myself captured, either. I need to find Zelda and—”

“We found her trying to lead a horse out of the stables, Captain!”

Link’s skin went ice cold, and his stomach plummeted halfway to hades. He whirled around, praying to the goddess that they hadn’t found her. 

But no. There she was. His wife, still in her beautiful red wedding skirt, clutched between two soldiers who seemed to be having a difficult time holding her back. She screeched her defiance and thrashed within their grip. Her boots kicked for their kneecaps, their toes, their groins, every area Link had taught her to aim for. And yet they managed to keep her subdued between the two of them, holding her arms in their strong grip. 

“Let go of me, you sons of bitches!” Zelda screeched. A few villagers rushed forward to intercede, but they were held at bay by the points of spears and swords. Zelda continued to shout choice words at the soldiers as she was dragged before Ingo’s horse.

Link sprang forward. 

“No!” 

Gaepora grabbed his collar, and two more villagers, seeing Link, rushed forward and seized him before he could make his presence known. A hand was pressed firmly to his mouth, and he screamed into the man’s skin with a fury that he could feel deep in his bones. In the middle of the chaos, Captain Ingo did not hear his outcry, or the struggle that came from it. The three Hateno citizens wrestled Link out of sight of the spectacle, shoving him behind a house. 

“Get him into the cellar,” he heard Gaepora command. There was a squeak, and then Link was being manhandled down into a small, dark room, all three men straining to keep him subdued. 

“You bastards!” he shouted when one of them let go of his mouth. “That’s my wife! Let me go!”

“You can’t risk being caught!” Gaepora shouted when he had pulled the cellar door closed behind them. “There are dozens of them out there. You cannot help her alone, you cannot save her alone.”

“I can’t just do nothing!” Link protested, still fighting to be freed. It was only out of respect for the villagers that he didn’t start handing out concussions. “They can’t take her back to the castle. I swore I would protect her!” 

“My village is on fire,” Gaepora hissed. “My villagers are in disarray. I can’t provide backup, and you are too valuable to risk. I will tie you up and leave you down here if I have to.”

Link spat on the ground at his feet. “You piece of shit. You’re just going to let her go?”

“If the alternative means losing both of you, then yes. You have to think critically.”

Link elbowed one of the men in the sternum, prompting him to release his arm. Taking his chance, Link rushed toward the cellar entrance. 

He heard the clang before he realized that Gaepora had found a shovel. Then, everything went black. 

— — —

Zelda used every ounce of her strength to try to break herself out of the soldiers’ hold, but they kept her still despite her thrashing. She strained to bite them, to kick them, to do anything to free herself. 

It was only Ingo’s fierce, victorious smile that brought her up cold. 

“Look at this,” he purred, leaning down from his horse. “We’ve found the Bandit’s little whore.”

Zelda ground her teeth as she looked up at him. “Go to hell, pig.”

Ingo clicked his teeth. “What would poor Daddy say if he heard you speak like that, hm? Our bright little princess, brought down so low. Nothing but damaged goods now.” Zelda spat at him, and he reared back with fire in his eyes. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”

One of the men who held her shoved her head forward, and a rope was tied around her wrists, restraining her further. Her eyes traced the surrounding village, the slowly dying flames, and the villagers who seemed ready to rush into the fray again. There was no sign of Link, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or dismayed that her husband did not reveal himself. 

Ingo’s hand seized her chin, pulling her face back upward. “Where is your thief, Princess?” 

Zelda swallowed thickly. “He’s not here.”

“Liar. Two thieves took suitcases from a countess just a few miles from here. You’ve been traveling together.”

“We were,” Zelda said, taking a breath to keep her voice from wobbling, “but we separated. He went ahead to scope out the soldiers on guard around the Lost Woods, and I was going to meet up with him once I got the horse’s saddle fixed.”

She had nearly been out of the stables with the horse by the time she was caught. She hoped that Link would find it…wherever he was. 

Ingo’s nostrils flared, and he looked as though he was struggling to believe her. Still, the longer they stood there, the more the villagers seemed to be rallying, ready to interfere between the soldiers and the princess. The swords couldn’t hold everyone back. 

Ingo huffed. “Fine. If the thief won’t make himself known, perhaps having his slut at the castle will be enough to drive him out.”

He turned to the rest of his soldiers. “We found one of our targets. Let’s return to the Duke. If the Bandit doesn’t show up, we’ll start burning down more villages until he reveals himself.”

The two soldiers behind Zelda seized her arms and drove her forward as the soldiers wheeled their horses around and began making their way down the road. 

“You won’t get away with this!” a woman cried from among the gathered villagers. “The Duke cannot keep doing this forever! One way or another, he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Ingo grinned at the villagers. “Bold words from a village who just lost half its housing.”

With those parting words, he dug his heels into his horse’s sides and galloped away from the smoking wreckage of Hateno. Zelda was led after him, her boots gliding reluctantly over the cobblestone. She turned this way and that, searching the gathered crowd for any sign of Link. She found none. A few villagers watched her go with thinly veiled rage in their eyes, their jaws clenched, their fists tight at their sides. A man stepped forward, but Zelda met his gaze and shook her head. She would not be the reason for any of their deaths. They were the people she was fighting for. She just prayed that Link would make the right decisions regarding her capture and put the safety of the people first. 

Just outside the village, a cart had been hooked up to a horse, and hay had been strewn inside. Zelda was tossed into the back of the cart, her ropes threaded through a gap in the wood. If she had a knife, she would have used it to cut through the ropes the way Link taught her. But it seemed as though they had come prepared to catch the Lost Bandit, and anything short of Link’s tricks would not be enough to free her. 

In the wake of the fire, the cold of winter bit her exposed skin. Her cloak was still in the saddlebags in Hateno. If they did not offer her a blanket, it would be a long, cold trip back to the Castle. 

She stole one last glance back at the village, and her heart sank. What was she going home to?

— — —

When Link finally came to, his head felt like it was splitting from the inside out. Instead of the cellar he had been knocked out in, he found himself lying in a bed. What was worse, Gaepora leaned over him, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. 

“Link,” he said when Link reached to rub his eyes, “are you alright?”

Link sat up and reached for Gaepora’s neck. “You traitorous ass,” he growled, squeezing his fingers around his throat, “Where is she?”

Gaepora tried to pull Link’s hand off his throat, but the dizziness did that for him. Link’s fast movement proved too much for him, and his fingers slackened before he fell back against the pillows. Still, anger seethed beneath his skin. 

“Where is she?” Link asked again, trying to put all of his fury into his stare. 

It seemed to work, because Gaepora’s skin went pale and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “She was taken.”

“You let her go? ”

“The fire was enough to distract most of the able-bodied villagers, and those who tried to intervene were threatened at sword point. I didn’t want to risk your life or hers, but I will also not allow my villagers to risk their own lives.”

Link closed his eyes and passed a hand over his face. “You have no idea what they will do to her when she gets back to the castle.”

“And what would you have done if they had captured you? Do you think you would be able to protect her from inside a dungeon cell?”

“I wouldn’t have gotten captured!” Link spat at him. “I would have killed those bastards, every last one of them, before they laid a hand on my wife.”

A muscle twitched in Gaepora’s jaw. “Well. We each made choices in haste this morning, I suppose. There is no use in wasting energy being angry over it. The fact of the matter is, my actions have landed you here. You have a horse. You have the support of the village. You have your head still, and you are free. So, what are you going to do now?”

Link sat up again, slowly this time. He was still wearing his wedding clothes, his tunic blackened with soot and his pants ripped at the knee. Deciding not to waste his time giving Gaepora the swift ass-kicking he deserved, Link slid out from under the covers and reached for his boots. “Where is my horse?” 

“She’s at the stables, alongside your saddlebags.”

“Your general store has arrows, yes?”

“Of course.”

“I’m taking all of them. And no, I won’t be paying for them.”

Gaepora’s hands clenched atop his thighs, but he managed a curt nod. “Yes. Fine. Whatever you need.”

“I need food. And water. And first aid supplies.”

“Okay. I’ll gather anything you ask. Do you need weapons?”

No. He had the Master Sword, and he had a bow and arrows. That was all he would need to storm the castle and return his wife to her rightful place at his side. He would make all of them pay. Every single soldier who was here, terrorizing the village for a shot at capturing Link. His retribution would not be swift. 

He stood up and brushed his hands down the front of his tunic. Food, water, weapons. Cloak. He needed his cloak. Had Zelda left hers in the saddlebags? Shit, she must be freezing. 

Perhaps, if he moved fast enough, he could intercept her before they got to the castle. But that notion faded from his mind when he caught sight of the sun shining through the bedroom window. 

He turned to Gaepora. “How long have I been out?”

Gaepora rose to his feet and fidgeted with his hands. “Um…five hours.”

Five. Hours. He was going to strangle Gaepora as soon as he finished murdering the Duke. 

Link jabbed a finger at the mayor. “You’re damn lucky I need you to get her.”

Gaepora’s eyebrows drew together, more confident this time. “I still believe I saved your life. You would have run out there in front of dozens of soldiers, unarmed, with no plan as to saving your own hide.”

Link was about ready to throw punches, but he forced himself to keep that energy in reserve. He would need it if he was going to take down the Duke. 

“Come on,” Link said, gesturing for Gaepora to follow him. “Let’s go.”

“Link, you can’t just go galavanting off by yourself. I need to know what your plan is.”

Link turned every ounce of his righteous fury onto the mayor, the man who stopped him from rescuing the woman he loved. 

“My plan,” Link spat, “is to rescue my wife. At whatever cost.”

Chapter Text

Zelda had never been so angry in her entire life. She was positively seething by the time the cart pulled up to a side entrance of the castle and Captain Ingo dismounted to untie her ropes. She knew that she had gone off with Link of her own volition, but hadn’t most people assumed she was kidnapped? Would her father really stand to see her dragged through the servants’ hallways in three-day-old clothing, her hair unkempt and unwashed?

And on that note, had her father truly sanctioned the burning of one of his most profitable villages?

No, this did not sound like her father at all. All of these actions positively reeked of Duke Ghirahim’s influence. She had severely underestimated how much power he had. And yet, she had to wonder what he was holding over her father to make him agree to such drastic moves. 

She squared her shoulders as she was roughhoused into the castle, assuming the dignity of the princess once again. She was cold – one of the soldiers had offered her a blanket out of pity, but that had been left behind in the hay cart. The stone walls of the castle did nothing to stave off the goosebumps that erupted down her arms. The smell was familiar, and yet she felt like a stranger walking through these halls. She was no longer the princess, abandoned by the goddess. She was a warrior. A thief. A woman who would not be cowed by some power-hungry Duke. 

She did not waste her breath in trying to get answers to her questions from the soldiers or from the captain. They had all made it clear that they would not engage with her on the long trek from Hateno to the castle. Which only further incensed her, because she was still the princess. Her time in the Lost Woods had not stripped her of her title.

She was led toward the inner sanctum without much ceremony. Suspicion pricked her spine. Had her father ordered a formal hearing to greet her? She had expected to be led to his office or his bedroom. 

When she stepped into the sanctum, her dirty shoes staining the polished floor, her eyes flicked toward the throne on instinct. What she saw there made her gut squirm with nausea.

Her father was not sitting on his throne, regal and smiling below the symbol of the Triforce, his body framed by royal banners. Instead, the Duke sat where her father should be, his leg draped lazily over one of the armrests. A stain upon the royal household. 

“Well, well,” The Duke said, his voice tinged with disdain enough to make Zelda feel sick. “The prodigal princess returns.”

“Where’s my father?” she demanded, quickening her pace to the middle of the room. She hated that she had to look upward to see him, that he was in a position to stare down his nose at her like she was some sort of rat. The soldiers unhanded her, leaving her hands free. “I demand to be brought to him at once!”

Captain Ingo stepped up beside her and bowed to the Duke. The traitorous snake. “Your Grace, we caught her in Hateno. The plan you came up with was, indeed, enough to drive her out.”

“And yet you failed to capture the Lost Bandit alongside her?” the Duke growled. He planted both feet on the ground in front of him and curled his fingers around the armrests of the throne. “Does he care nothing for the people he claims to serve, or do I have to burn down every forsaken village in Hyrule to get him to show himself?”

Ingo jabbed his thumb toward Zelda. “This one says they were separated, and that he wasn’t in Hateno. I don’t know if she’s telling the truth, but apparently he’s not very taken with her anymore, if he was willing to abandon her like that.”

Zelda snarled. She wanted to scream that Link had not abandoned her, that she herself had seen him rushing to help the villagers put out the fire. But she had been unable to find him among the crowd of villagers as she was led out of the smoking wreckage.

No, he was better than that. He had a plan. He wouldn’t have allowed her to be captured if he didn’t think he could get her back. She was his wife, after all. He would come for her. 

The Duke passed a weary hand over his face. “Fine. Strike against Deya next. Maybe break their dam and flood the place. The Lost Bandit will have to reveal himself somewhere.”

Zelda, tired of being ignored, furious with the blasé way he had just ordered the destruction of an innocent village, took a step forward to garner the Duke’s attention. “You would strike against the people of Hyrule for the sake of one man? You would burn precious property, drown innocent civilians, just for a chance at revenge?”

The Duke leaned forward, his steely gaze intense on Zelda’s. It was as though he could see right through her, and she didn’t want to admit how much it terrified her. “I would burn down all of Hyrule for a chance to break that thief’s neck.”

Zelda bared her teeth. “Where is my father?”

A grin split the Duke’s lips, disgusting and infuriating enough to make Zelda want to tear his face off. “Would you like to join him?”

“Yes,” Zelda answered. “I would like to speak to the actual ruler of Hyrule.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’re asking for two different people in that case.” He rose from the throne and peered down his nose at her. “You see, after the princess was so mercilessly kidnapped, her father was simply too distraught to lead the country in the way he should. With no other heir to claim the responsibility in the meantime, I graciously volunteered to run the monarchy in his stead.”

Zelda shook her head. “No. He would never sign his power over to you.”

“Well, do you see him here, denying me?” the Duke spread his arms, glancing around the sanctum. “I see no one. Not a soul who would oppose me.”

“I will oppose you,” Zelda insisted.

“No, you will not,” the Duke growled. “You will mind your pretty manners, and you will give me the prize that was supposed to be mine when I won the tournament.”

“You didn’t win the tournament,” Zelda protested. “You—”

“I did!” the Duke shouted. His voice echoed through the empty sanctum, and Zelda hated herself for flinching. “I won. It is my right to court you. It is my right to take you as my bride.”

Zelda wanted to rush forward, climb up to the throne, and pommel the man. But Ingo shifted closer, anticipating her every move. She knew she would not make it to the throne without being intercepted. Instead, she said, “I never agreed to marry the victor.”

The Duke’s nostrils flared. “I will take you, as is my right as victor. You will not like the consequences if you refuse. Then, when poor Daddy finally succumbs to his ailing health, I will become king of Hyrule.”

Zelda was suddenly grateful she had not been given food, because she was sure she would have lost the contents of her stomach at his declaration. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. So many defenses she wanted to make. And yet, all she could say was, “You will still have no power. I am to become the ruling monarch if the king dies.”

The Duke tilted his head, looking down at her like she was a small, innocent child who had just asked a stupid question. “My dear future wife, who is to say that you will still be alive?”

Zelda’s skin went cold. “You would organize a coup, then? Depose both my father and myself from the throne? No one will back you. No one will support you in this!”

“I have the support of the royal guard. I have the support of the most powerful clan in all of Hyrule. I have the support of the nobility, those who are sick and tired of seeing your weak father flounder in the face of this banditry crisis. I have everything I need, dearest. It is time that the monarchy ceases its weakness. I will lead Hyrule into a new age of prosperity. I will unleash a power unlike anyone has ever known. Anyone who thinks himself better than me will taste the wrath of Hyrule’s chosen.”

Zelda’s words left her, and she gaped at him. She had no plan that sprang to her mind, no action she could take to deny him this. She didn’t even know the full extent of his reach, or when his plan to marry her would be enacted. She simply…froze.

“I see you are overcome with gratitude for my plan,” the Duke sneered. “Ingo, take her to her father for now. I’m sure she will be grateful for a family reunion.”

— — —

Link threw Zelda’s cloak over his shoulders, his heart twinging when the familiar smell reached his nose. He barely resisted the urge to pull the fabric up to his face and inhale deeply, and only because Gaepora was right there too, hooking bulging saddlebags onto Zelda’s horse. 

“I need to go,” Link urged, bouncing on the tips of his toes as Gaepora double checked the straps. 

“You’ll be no help to anyone if you’re not properly equipped,” Gaepora admonished.

Link, patience waning fast, grabbed the saddlehorn and hoisted himself atop the horse in one swift movement. The Master Sword was a familiar weight upon his back, now resting in a new sheath that had been given to him by the town’s blacksmith. He turned the horse toward the west, where his wife had been taken. 

“Do you have a plan?” Gaepora asked, holding onto the stirrup so Link couldn’t gallop away. 

Link scoffed. “Get her back. Kill anyone who gets in my way.”

“Have you ever actually killed anyone before?”

Link balked at that for a moment, his stomach swooping. No, he hadn’t. Hurt people, sure. But killed? 

Still, his determination didn’t wane. “It doesn’t matter if I have or not. If Zelda’s hurt…” He trailed off, too furious to even reach the end of that sentence. 

Gaepora nodded solemnly. He patted Link’s knee. “I’m going to send a few men after you. You don’t have to wait for them, but in case you need backup…I want you to know that they’ll be on their way.”

Link looked down at the mayor, gratitude suddenly swelling up in his throat. “Thanks. You might want to send messengers to nearby villages too. The Duke won’t be happy that the captain didn’t get me.”

Gaepora nodded. “Already done.”

Link took up the reins in his hand and squeezed them hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “I’m leaving now. Unless there’s something else you’d like to do to stall me?”

Gaepora shook his head. “No. My work is done, if only because I know you won’t suffer any more words of advice.” He reached up and placed a steady hand on Link’s arm. “Get her back for us, son. And make that Duke pay for what he did to his people.”

“Trust me,” Link growled. “I will.”

— — —

It wasn’t until Zelda descended the fourth set of stairs that she realized where she was being led. And her fury was stoked all the more for it. 

She turned to the two soldiers who guided her down, Captain Ingo having been left in the sanctum far above. “You’re taking your sovereign to the dungeons?”

One of the soldiers shook his head. “Not my sovereign, Highness. I don’t tend to trust royals who go galavanting off with criminals.”

Zelda’s lip curled in disgust. “Your lack of loyalty astounds me.”

The other soldier piped up, “And where was your loyalty when you disappeared? When the whole kingdom banded together in an attempt to find you? If you ask me, I’ve got more loyalty to Hyrule than you do.”

That shut Zelda up fast. She stared resolutely ahead, unwilling to let them see her tremble. They brought her down, down, to the lowest depths of the castle, where she was turned down a long hallway lined with cells. A place that was looking far too familiar for Zelda’s liking. 

“Third one,” the soldier commanded, prodding her in the back. She stumbled and fell against the freezing bars with a grunt while the man reached for his keys. 

A soft, incredulous voice drifted between the bars at her cheek. “Zelda?”

Zelda’s head jerked up so fast that she nearly slammed her forehead against the cell door. “Father?” 

His Majesty, King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, was crumpled in the corner of a dungeon cell, a threadbare blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his beard unkempt, his brow unadorned with the crown that had always sat upon his head. 

“Father!” Zelda cried, just as a rough hand seized her arm. A key was jammed into the cell door’s keyhole, and then Zelda was shoved roughly inside before the cell was locked behind her. 

“You two can get all chummy in there until the Duke calls for you,” the soldier said, pocketing his keys. “See you at the wedding, Princess.”

The two soldiers laughed as they disappeared down the hallway, leaving Zelda alone in the cell with her father. 

The king stood up with a groan. He wore a set of silk pajamas, rumpled and covered in dust. Had he been taken from his bed in the night? How long had he been locked up like this?

“Zelda,” the king breathed, and then his arms were around her, strong and sure, pulling her tight against his chest. 

Zelda suddenly didn’t care about the rifts that had come between them in the months leading up to her escape. The angry fights about her time spent researching, his disappointment every time she failed to awaken her powers. All of that disappeared in the wake of this hug, so strong and comforting and warm and everything she needed in that moment. She buried her nose in his chest and breathed in his comforting smell, obscured as it was by the dank and dusty smell of the dungeons. “Daddy,” she wept. She hadn’t called him that in years. But right now, when everything else seemed to be falling apart, it was the only word she could say. 

“My little girl,” Rhoam said, squeezing her tight, “what happened to you? How did you get here?”

She shook her head, unsure where to begin. “T-They found me in Hateno. I was trying to escape, and—and—”

“Hateno? My dear, what were you doing in Hateno?”

Well, that was a long story. She probably shouldn’t lead with the fact that she was now married to the Lost Bandit, not after three months of silence on her end. Raising her head from her father’s chest, she said, “It’s…complicated.”

Rhoam brushed a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “We have nothing but time down here, sweetheart. Tell me everything.”

And so Zelda did. 

It took her longer than she expected to explain Link’s appearance at the tournament, their unexpected freefall into love, and her decision to sneak out of the castle to tend to his wounds. She told him of the Castle Town residents who had helped them escape, and spoke of the time she spent training with Link in the Lost Woods in order to join him as the Lost Bandit. His eyebrows rose toward his hairline when she described her first — and apparently last — heist against the countess. Finally, when she forced herself to recount the events surrounding their visit to Hateno, and the marriage that resulted from it, Rhoam had to take a step back and brace himself against the far wall. 

“That’s…a lot to take in,” he said, massaging his fingers into his temples. 

“Are you angry with me?” Zelda asked, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. The cell was getting colder as night drew nearer, but she refused to ask for the one blanket he had been given. 

Rhoam sighed. It was a deep, wistful sigh that Zelda felt all the way down to her bones, carrying with it all of the grief and uncertainty that Rhoam had been shouldering during her absence. “It’s strange,” he finally said, his voice low. “I should be upset about a great number of things…and yet I find myself most discouraged by the fact that I was not there to give you away.”

Tears sprang to Zelda’s eyes, and she rushed toward him, arms outstretched. “Oh, Daddy,” she cried, hugging him around his middle again. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry about all of this. About the Duke, about running away…If I had known that it would lead to this—”

“My dear, none of this was your fault. Please believe that. I should have stood up to the Duke long ago. I thought he was just money hungry, and I was able to mostly keep legislation in place to protect the poorest citizens. But with you gone…I’m afraid I let my guard down in my grief. He got the better of me, Zelda. And now you must suffer the consequences for my blindness.”

Zelda shook her head. “I’ll find a way out, I promise. He doesn’t yet know I’m already married. Perhaps I can use that to my advantage. Keep him from the throne a little longer.”

“What can we do inside a dungeon like this?” the king asked, his shoulders shaking. “My time in here has already ailed me greatly. I am weak, and I am losing more of my strength every day.”

Now that he said it, Zelda did see the deep purple bruises below his eyes, the creases in his forehead, the slight tremor in his hands whenever he squeezed her. He had to get out of here soon if he wanted to make a full recovery. 

Zelda took his hands in hers. “We’ll come up with a plan. I know we can. And…I believe that Link will come after me, too.”

Rhoam’s eyes shone with sadness and uncertainty. “Will he? Even with the threat of the Duke hanging over him?”

Zelda nodded. She could feel it, just as she had felt the spirit in the Master Sword. She knew that he was coming, that he was on his way even now. “He will, Father. He loves me. But even more than that, he loves his people. He loves Hyrule. He would never let the Duke retain power without doing something to fight back.”

Rhoam curled a hand around Zelda’s head and brought her face back against his chest, seeking comfort just as much as she was. “Let us hope you’re right, daughter. At this point, it would take divine retribution to bring the Duke to his knees.”

Zelda nuzzled her face against Rhoam’s chest, and for once, she mustered a smile. “I know. But he is the Hero of Hyrule. He’s the closest thing to divine retribution we can hope for.”

Chapter Text

Link had just emerged from between the Dueling Peaks, his horse’s sides heaving from exertion, when he felt something…strange. It was not a feeling he could pinpoint, not a rumbling like that of an earthquake or a blustery wind indicating a storm. No, he could see it in the flocks of birds that suddenly erupted from the nearby trees. He could smell it in the air, strange and metallic. He could feel it in the way the horse’s breaths stuttered between his thighs. There was nothing amiss at first glance, and yet he was struck with a sudden, violent unease. 

It seemed he wasn’t the only one. 

Four pops portended the appearance of a few of his Korok friends, and Link had to yank on the horse’s reins to keep from trampling them underfoot. Both he and the horse fixed wild, uncertain gazes on the Koroks as they waddled up to him. 

“Do you feel that, Link?” Chio asked, arms trembling. 

“There’s something wrong,” Pepp added. 

Link raised his gaze to the north, where he could just barely make out the shape of Castle Town and Hyrule Castle in the distance. Yes, something was wrong. Was the Calamity on its way? Had it already been unleashed? He had assumed that it would make itself known in a massive wave of power, an explosion, an earthquake that could be felt through all of Hyrule. Right now, it was just a strange intuition, a prickling at the back of his neck, an unease deep in his gut. 

“You shouldn’t go there,” Chio said. His voice was small, weak, much less energetic than usual. “Mr. Hero, I really think you should come home. Where it’s safe.”

Link adjusted his position in the saddle and shook his head. “No. I can’t go home. I need to get Zelda.” He glowered down at his woodland friends, brows furrowing. “Where were you when we were in Hateno?”

Natie jumped up and down. “Well, you said we had to leave whenever you were kissing Zel—”

“Alright, fine. Whatever,” Link said, face flushing. “That rule still stands. But you should be paying more attention from now on, okay? I might need you in the next couple of days. Or the next few hours.”

Pepp nodded, his leaf face quivering with determination. “Of course! We’ll help you get Miss Princess back! We’ll do whatever you need.”

Link nodded. “Good. Now, stay close.”

He kicked his heels into the horse’s sides, and they took off again. 

— — — 

Dusk was settling over the city when Link arrived in Castle Town. He left his horse tied to a small tree just outside the city, giving her plenty of room to graze. It was too dangerous to bring her into the city with him, not when he was already so recognizable. Better to remain in hiding and make his way slowly than risk getting caught. 

He pulled his hood low over his face as he stepped through the alleys, keeping to the shadows to avoid any detection. Already, he could see signs of the Duke’s influence in Castle Town. More soldiers patrolled the streets than before, helmets shining in the moonlight, all of them clutching weapons close to their chests instead of keeping them sheathed. Any citizen still on the street avoided them like the plague. Though the night was still young, many of the buildings were already closed, their windows shuttered.

Link knew he should make his way straight to the castle, but the nagging feeling of something approaching would not let up. The Duke was aligned with the Yiga clan, which was notorious for supporting the rise of the Calamity. If the asshole tried something fishy, someone needed to know about it. 

And he knew exactly who to look for. 

A few minutes later, Link was crouching below a small windowsill and raising his knuckles to rap against the windowpane. His heart beat in his throat, and he prayed that she would be the one to answer. 

He knocked again. Then, a third time. 

Finally, the window slid open, and a familiar voice called out, “Whoever’s knocking on my bedroom window better have a good reason to—”

Link shifted so that the light from the bedroom fell across him, exposing the lower half of his face. Telma’s face went pale, and her mouth dropped open. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” she hissed at him, lowering her voice. She leaned out of the window so that she was closer to Link, taking in his countenance. “The Duke will string you up by your toes if he gets the chance!”

Link shook his head. “I know, I know. But listen, I’m in a tough situation, and I don’t have time to explain all of it. I need something from you.”

Telma pressed her lips together. “What is it?”

“I need you to go to the Royal Ancient Tech lab, or send someone you trust instead. It’s just northeast of the castle. There are Sheikah scientists who work there, and they should be able to contact the pilots of the Divine Beasts.” Link prayed silently that the information Zelda had told him in the Lost Woods was true, that the ability to communicate between the Beasts and the castle would allow the champions to get to their strongholds in time. He had no other course of action he could take. “You need to tell them to go to their posts and hold vigil, at least for the time being. There’s something…happening. I can’t explain beyond that. Tell them that the message comes from the Hero of Hyrule.”

The lines on Telma’s face seemed to deepen in concern. “What’s going to happen? Should we evacuate the city?”

Link swallowed. “I don’t know. It might be a hunch. It might be nothing. But if you can get out easily and safely…personally, I wouldn’t take a chance on staying.”

Telma’s fingers tightened on the windowsill, and she bit her lip. “And what will you do? If there’s something wrong, I—”

Link shook his head. “I have my own path to follow. Please, this is all I ask. Can you do that for me?”

The nod that Telma gave was enough to flood his entire body with relief. “I can.”

“Thank you.”

Link turned to slip back into the shadows, but Telma reached out and snagged the back of his cloak. He hesitated and glanced back at her over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Be safe,” Telma admonished. “We’re all in your corner here, you understand? You aren’t in this alone.”

Link held her gaze resolutely. “I know.”

With that, he vanished in the shadows again, and Telma pulled her window shut. 

— — — 

The castle was darker than Link remembered, the halls bathed in shadows where lamps and torches used to remain lit long into the night. Link was grateful for the cover of Zelda’s cloak as he snuck his way through the outer gatehouses and toward Zelda’s bedroom. He knew the route by heart — he had snuck over here many nights as a young teenager to spend more time with Zelda after school. The soldiers remained unaware of the blind spots he had used even so many years ago, and he was able to traverse his way to her window with relative ease. 

When he cracked open the window and slid inside the darkened room, he knew that something was amiss. 

Zelda was not here.

The fireplace was cold, the bed made neatly, the surfaces covered in a fine layer of dust. It seemed as though no one had been in here since Zelda ran away with him more than three months ago. 

So…where was she?

Ready to turn this entire castle upside down to find her, he turned toward the door. But something caught his eye, draped over a lounging chair. Despite the circumstances, a satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

His old Lost Bandit cloak, Korok leaf and all, beckoned him like a long-lost friend. He tugged at the ties of the cloak around his neck and replaced it with his old familiar draping in a heartbeat. If the Duke wanted to draw out the Lost Bandit, then Link would give him exactly what he desired. 

— — —

“Princess! Time to get up!”

Zelda squirmed from her resting place against her father’s shoulder, her cheek sticking to the silk of his pajamas. Her neck ached, and her back twinged when she lifted her head. Her father was already awake beside her. Had he been keeping vigil over her sleep?

Behind the bars, Captain Ingo sneered at the two of them. He fit a key into the cell lock and slid the door open. 

Zelda rose unsteadily to her feet, and Rhoam made to stand as well, but Ingo held up a finger. “Ah, ah. Just the princess, please.”

Rhoam rose all the way up and settled a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “What do you plan on doing with her?”

“The Duke has requested her presence. That is all you are privileged to know.”

The king’s brows drew together in fury. “I am your king . You do not get to keep information from—”

Zelda placed her hand over her father’s. “It’s alright, father,” she said. “I can defend myself if necessary.”

Rhoam bared his teeth at Ingo. “If anyone so much as lays a hand on her—”

“—you’ll remain right here, where you have no power,” the captain finished. He stepped into the cell, seized Zelda’s elbow, and tugged her out the door. 

Rhoam pressed up against the bars as soon as the cell closed behind them. “Zelda!” he shouted, his voice thick with fear. 

“I’ll come back, I promise!” Zelda assured him. She had no idea if that promise could be kept, but she made herself say it anyway. Anything to set her father at ease. 

Ingo dragged her through the castle’s dark hallways toward the sanctum. Zelda did not ask any questions, knowing that she would receive no answers, but she threw several glares at Captain Ingo during their trek. When she was directed into the sanctum, she made sure to put as much distance between herself and the captain as possible. 

The Duke, no longer lounging above her on the throne, paced back and forth along the sanctum floor instead. He seemed…worried. His clothes were disheveled, his hair hanging in front of his face, unkempt, like he, too, had just woken up. Only a few of the braziers were lit. Most of the sanctum was draped in darkness, sending an eerie shiver up Zelda’s spine.

When the Duke spied Zelda, he increased his pace across the sanctum and seized her by the wrist. 

“Unhand me!” Zelda protested, twisting her arm from his grip. “What is the meaning of this? It’s the middle of the night!”

The Duke ignored her and fixed his eyes on Ingo. “Any sign?” 

“Not yet,” the captain answered. His face was haggard. “But there are…disturbances.”

Zelda scowled between the two of them. “What is going on?” 

“We are getting married,” the Duke asserted. “Now.”

Zelda’s heart sank into her toes. “What?”

“There is a…complication. I must secure my ties to the throne tonight. The priest of Hylia will be here presently, and we—”

Zelda drew herself up as tall and as proud as she could and said, “No.”

The Duke’s eyes flashed with irritation. “As I said yesterday, princess, you do not get a say in this matter. Or would you like to find out what I’ll do to dear old daddy if you refuse?”

Zelda squared her shoulders, just as she had seen Link do whenever he was preparing to fight, and answered, “You cannot marry me. I have already been wed to another.”

That brought the Duke up cold. Normally, he had an answer to everything. But at her pronouncement, his mouth gaped open like a fish’s and his face lost its color. “You lie.”

Zelda shook her head. “I do not lie. You may find proof of my marriage in your village, the one you saw fit to burn. I was married in front of several witnesses, by a priest of Hylia. You have no claim to my hand.”

The Duke bared his teeth, his usual sneer replaced with a violent snarl. “You tied yourself to the Bandit?”

“I tied myself to the Hero,” Zelda countered. “If anyone is to become king in the event of my death or that of my father, it is Link. The very criminal you despise. How does it feel, Ghirahim? Knowing that your enemy has a greater claim to the throne than you do?”

In a whirlwind of movement, the Duke lurched across the space between them and seized her face in his hands. He pinched her cheeks so hard that she squeaked in pain, and he brought her chin up toward him, leaning down so they were nearly nose-to-nose.

“You have no idea what you have done,” the Duke growled. “You were my prize from the very beginning.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Zelda answered blithely. 

Within the folds of his cloak, the Duke produced a knife with a bejeweled handle. Though it was meant to be used more for decoration than for utility, the blade was plenty sharp as he pressed it up under her ribs. Zelda froze, hardly daring to breathe, for fear that the knife would pierce her skin. She glanced toward Captain Ingo for help, but he simply stood there, smiling softly, his hands behind his back like a perfect royal guard. 

“It seems as though you have no desire to protect your own life, then,” the Duke muttered. His breath, hot and sour, pressed against her face. She had to fight the urge to gag. “If you are no longer able to marry me, then you have no other use for me.”

Zelda inhaled sharply, but didn’t respond. Her attention had been diverted elsewhere: over the Duke’s shoulder, where a strange shadow shifted behind the firelight. 

“I meant to keep you alive long enough to bear an heir for me,” the Duke continued, “but now, the longer you draw breath, the more of a threat you become to my glorious purpose.”

“And what is that purpose?” Zelda asked, forcing her attention back to the Duke. Had she actually heard the sound of jingling bells, or was that her imagination? “As I said, you will not be king.”

The Duke’s jaw flexed, and she could see a plan forming in his eyes as he spoke. It was one thing for him to be powerful and wealthy, and quite another thing altogether for him to also be cunning. It made her sick. 

But that sickness was quashed when another shadow moved across the second floor platform.

“The Calamity,” the Duke finally said. His jaw set in the wake of his decision. “That is the answer now. Without the princess to seal the darkness, the great beast will tear apart the Hero who comes to slay it. Then, with all of the heirs to the crown so easily disposed, I will be able to make a bid for the throne.” His angry frown slowly morphed into a self-satisfied smile as his plan clicked into place. “Perhaps I will take up the Hero’s sword and slay the monster myself, just to twist the knife further. No one will suspect me, because the monster will kill anyone who stands in my way.”

Zelda, fury simmering beneath her skin, grew tired of listening to him. In one swift movement, she drove her elbow into the side of his arm, knocking the knife back. Then, she lifted the edge of her red wedding skirt and stomped on the Duke’s toes as hard as she could. 

The Duke hissed and bent over on instinct, allowing Zelda room to smash the heel of her palm into the Duke’s chin, driving his head back. 

Captain Ingo rushed forward and seized Zelda before she could make a break for the exit. His hands gripped her wrists, twisting them behind her back, holding her steady as the Duke regained his bearings. She thrashed in his hold. She had been so close. 

Now only a few steps away, the Duke straightened, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “You little bitch!” he shouted. 

He surged forward, raising his arm. The knife’s blade glinted in the firelight. Zelda pressed back against Captain Ingo’s chest, preparing for the blow. 

“AAGGHHH!”

An arrow stabbed through the Duke’s forearm. The knife in his hand fell to the floor with a clatter, and blood seeped through the sleeve of his shirt. Ghirahim clutched his arm and unleashed a string of curses that rang through the whole sanctum.

Zelda could not help her relieved sigh.

The Captain’s grip on her lessened as his attention was drawn upward, toward the portion of the sanctum that was still bathed in shadow. No sign of the attacker remained, no moving shadows or twang of a bowstring. Still, Zelda knew exactly who it was. 

And so did the Duke. 

“Show yourself!” Ghirahim screamed, whirling in a circle. The arrow remained in his arm, and he held it steady with his free hand, his face gaunt from the pain. “Show me where you are, coward!”

Another arrow sprouted out of nowhere, this time right between the Duke’s feet. He stumbled backwards with a gasp and jerked his attention toward the far corner, where Zelda could just barely glimpse a small movement. 

A peal of high-pitched laughter bounced across the floor.  

The Duke turned to the Captain. “Summon the guards. Now! And get me my sword!”

Ingo’s grip barely slackened on Zelda. “What about her?”

The Duke snatched Zelda and twisted her so that she was encased in his arms, her back to his chest. His hands framed her face, thumbs pressing hard to her jaw. The arrow, coated in his blood, bumped against her collarbone, and she had to swallow down the bile that rose in her throat. 

“If you shoot one more time, I snap her neck!” the Duke screamed. 

Ingo raced toward the sanctum’s closest exit, but the doors swung shut before he could barrel through. He skidded to a stop. In the wake of the slamming doors, a strange giggling sound flitted through the air. 

“Over there!” the Duke shouted, pointing to another exit. The Captain ran, but those doors, too, closed on their own. This time, the Captain rammed his shoulder into the door, trying to push it open. It didn’t budge. 

“Something’s blocked it from the outside!” he called. 

The Duke growled as he stuck his toes under the hilt of his knife and kicked it up to his outstretched hand. Before Zelda could spin out of his grip, the blade pressed under her chin. 

“Show yourself!” the Duke screamed. Around them, several booms echoed through the chamber as every single sanctum exit slammed closed. More giggles and ringing bells filled the air. Despite the knife lodged under her chin, a smile pulled at the corner of Zelda’s mouth. 

On the second floor, the brazier next to the throne flared to life, casting a warm orange glow over the throne. Zelda blinked in the sudden light, and the Duke whirled her toward the north portion of the sanctum to stare at the throne’s new occupant.

Link lounged across her father’s chair, one leg draped over the other, pointing his strung bow almost lazily toward the Duke’s head. His hood pooled around his shoulders and left his face exposed. He still wore his green wedding tunic under his cloak, his whole countenance rumpled and disheveled, but still alluringly handsome. Zelda wouldn’t be surprised if her heart decided to grow wings at the sight of him. 

“Hello, again, love,” Link purred. “Did you miss me?”

Zelda couldn’t help her delighted grin. “You certainly took your time getting here.”

“I had to send a message to some friends.” 

Zelda had no idea what he meant by that, but she was grateful for his presence nonetheless. 

The Duke’s fingers twisted into her hair, pulling her chin back further, reminding her of their real predicament. A sharp sting sliced across her throat as he dug the blade harder into her skin. She gasped. The gash was shallow, but warm blood still began trickling down the column of her neck. 

Fury sparked in Link’s eyes, and his hand tightened on his bow. “Let her go, Duke,” he commanded. “It’s me you want, not her.”

“You have no leg to stand on, Link,” the Duke snarled. “One wrong move, and I cut her throat.”

Link tilted his head. “Then what will stop me from sending an arrow through your heart if you do?”

The Captain rushed back up to the Duke. “Your Grace, the exits are all barred. I can’t—”

“Shut up!” the Duke shouted. His voice was rising in pitch and volume, and Zelda could feel his frantic heartbeat against her back. “Shut up, you insolent fool!”

Link rose to his feet. Two arrows were notched in his bow, both of them pointed directly toward the Duke. One misstep, and Zelda was sure he could end Ghirahim’s life with ease. 

“You kill her, I kill you,” Link said, lifting his bow so that the fletching of the arrow brushed against his jaw. “Or, you can let her go. Crawl back to the rat’s nest you call an estate. And we return to our regularly scheduled game of cat and mouse. It’s your choice, Duke.”

The Duke’s hand tightened on Zelda. He was panicking. She could feel it in his heavy breaths, the jerky movements of his limbs as he walked her backwards, away from Link’s bow. Blood from the wound on his arm dripped onto her cream shirt, staining it as red as the last rays of dusk. She had no way of knowing what Ghirahim would choose, whether the act of spilling her blood was worth his own death. 

Beside her, Captain Ingo glared daggers at Link. He had a sword at his side, but he had yet to draw it. If the sweat beading his brow and the bobbing of his throat was any indication, he feared Link more than the Duke did. 

Link rolled his eyes. “You have five seconds to decide, or I send an arrow through your skull, instead. Five.”

“You would risk shooting the princess just to get to me?” the Duke shouted. 

“I know how to aim, unlike you. Four.”

The knife pressed further into Zelda’s throat, earning a whimper from her. Link was gambling a little too freely with her life. 

“Three.”

“You won’t get away with this!” 

“Two.”

The entire castle shuddered. 

The Duke gasped, his knife trembling against Zelda’s skin, and she stumbled back against him in the wake of the sudden movement. Link’s brow furrowed, but his countdown stopped as small pieces of debris rained down around them. 

Something was very, very wrong. 

The stones of the castle groaned. The floor trembled. The Duke’s knife fell from her throat. 

The floor of the sanctum cracked open like the shell of an egg, and a geyser of red and black malice erupted into the castle. 

Zelda heard Link’s cry of surprise as he disappeared from sight. She used the momentary distraction to drive her elbow into the Duke’s ribs, needing to get away, far away. As fast as possible. The malice spewed higher and higher, reaching the ceiling far above, splattering the once-pristine walls. 

The Duke released her without a fight. But she had nowhere to run. Already the malice was pooling across the floor toward her feet, bubbling and gurgling even as the geyser slowed to a stop. 

“Wha—” the Duke breathed, but his voice was carried away by a roaring that split the air and made Zelda double over with a shriek. 

A flash of blue burst through the storm of malice on the other end of the sanctum. Link’s sword parted the substance, and she could see him making his way over to her, but slowly. Too slowly. 

The doors were still barred. The koroks had barricaded them, but would they know enough to let her out? 

She had to try. She took two steps toward the nearest entrance before a strong arm banded around her waist from behind. 

“Oh no, you don’t, bitch.”

Captain Ingo’s voice sent her skin crawling. She kicked back, striking her heel into his knee. He howled in pain, and she turned to face him, her fist swinging toward his nose with all the power she could muster. His bones crunched beneath her knuckles, sending a wave of pain across her hand. Still, neither she nor the captain let up. 

He drew his sword, but Zelda stepped within his reach, wrapping her fingers around the hilt to keep him from striking at her. 

All the while, malice continue to spread like the plague across the floor. 

Somewhere in the distance, the Duke was screaming. “Kill her! This ends here! Kill them all!”

Zelda lifted her knee and drove it straight into the captain’s groin. He howled, and Zelda twisted the sword from his grip. She just barely managed to fit her hands around the hilt the way Link had taught her when the Captain lunged again, hands stretching toward her face. 

She raised the sword, screaming in protest—

Captain Ingo skewered himself on his own blade before he could correct his trajectory. 

Zelda’s breath left her as she felt the weight of his body on the sword. His eyes burned with fury and shock and betrayal. With a gasp, she let go of the hilt, as if that could correct the action she just made.

Captain Ingo fell to his knees, his boots and pants squelching in the oncoming pool of malice. 

“He’ll kill you all,” he growled. 

Zelda didn’t know if he spoke of the Duke or the Calamity. Either way, she was sure that one of them would achieve that goal. 

“ZELDA!”

Her husband’s voice broke the haze that had descended around her. Link was racing across the platform above, his cloak whipping about him, his bow and sword slung across his back. She watched as he launched himself toward a long, billowy tapestry and swung down with expert precision to the first floor. The second his boots struck the stones, he drew the Master Sword from behind his shoulder. 

She sprinted to meet him, her limbs moving mechanically despite her racing mind. Had she….had she just….

“We have to get out of here!” 

She collided with Link as he said this, wanting nothing more than to be supported by his arms. Instead of embracing her, Link seized her shoulder and spun her toward the nearest exit. “Go! Go, now!” 

The crack in the center of the sanctum yawned wider, drawing Zelda’s attention. The Duke…where was the Duke? He had just—

“You’ll go nowhere!”

The Duke stood over Captain Ingo’s prone body. His eyes smoldered as he tore the sword from his back with a wicked squelch. “I will feed you to this beast with my own hands if I have to!”

Link pushed Zelda behind him and raised his sword. “I can let us all out,” he said, voice quivering. “Is this really worth your own life?” 

The Duke did not waste his breath. He charged forward, sword flashing, spittle flying from his mouth, and Link met him in the middle with his own blade. The collision of their swords rang across the entire chamber. 

They descended into chaos, swords clashing against one another hard enough to send sparks flying through the air. Zelda used the distraction to make a break toward the exit. This close, she could just see two Koroks, their bodies trembling in fear, braced against the door. 

“Miss Princess!” one of them wailed. “What do we do?” 

“Open the door!” Zelda screamed. The Koroks squealed and rushed to obey her command. Soon, a pool of moonlight stretched across the sanctum floor, falling over the puddles of malice. They had a way out. 

“Link!” Zelda screeched. “We have to run!” 

But the Duke was driving him away from her, back toward the center of the sanctum, where the crack was growing ever wider. 

Zelda scanned the surrounding area for something — anything —that could help. Link had taught her to fight. If she could intervene, if she could get the Duke away from him… 

There. The Duke’s bejeweled knife, sticking out of a pile of malice. Zelda hiked her skirts and raced toward the blade, scooping it up in one hand as she passed by. When she raised her eyes to Link, what she saw made her heart stop. 

The Duke had forced Link back into a pool of malice. The second the substance touched Link’s boots, he cried out in pain, allowing the Duke to sweep his legs out from under him and send him sprawling to the floor. Link tried to recover, but the malice clung to him, sapping at his strength. Zelda was almost there, just a second away—

The Duke grinned. Lifted his sword above his head, ready to deliver the killing blow. 

“NO!” 

With the knife raised, Zelda forced herself between them. 

Light exploded. 

It blinded everything in sight, distorting her senses, wrapping around her until it was the only thing she could see and smell and feel and taste. Within her gut, power swirled, spreading to her limbs, her head, her heart. 

Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light dimmed. The Duke had been blasted away. The pool of malice was no more, only a patch of sizzling stone in its wake. 

Behind her, Link croaked, “Zel?” 

She turned around, her entire body buzzing with energy. The malice that clung to Link’s clothes had burned away, leaving him looking reenergized, his cheeks flushed with new life. His eyes and his mouth gaped wide open. He looked at her like she was a goddess. 

It was over. She had saved them. She had unlocked her powers in time. She reached toward Link, hands stretched toward him to help him up. 

Before their fingers brushed, the sanctum floor cracked open below their feet with a thunderous roar and swallowed them whole.  

Chapter Text

Link couldn’t see anything beyond the blinding yellow light that cocooned him on every side as he fell into the recesses of Hyrule castle. He knew that he was suspended in midair, that his fall had been slowed considerably by what could only be Zelda’s magic. He could feel the rush of air around him, but that was where his knowledge ended.

It took only a few seconds for the light to finally recede, and when it did, he was left lying on a wide stone floor, gazing up at the glowing image of his wife standing over him. The ceiling stretched far above their heads, glowing a malicious red, boiling the blood in Link’s veins. 

Behind Zelda, the Duke struggled to his feet, groaning in protest.

And to his left…a massive creature was beginning to stir.

Link had little energy left to make sense of the situation. All he knew was that Zelda was in danger, he was in danger, all of Hyrule was in danger. If they didn’t defeat the Duke and seal away this beast, everything they loved and cared for would be doomed.

He jumped to his feet as quickly as he had fallen. Zelda stared, wide-eyed, at her hands, which continued to glow with the onset of her powers. Before the Duke could regain himself, Link seized her wrists and pulled her close to him. There was no time for second guessing, no time to come up with another plan. They had to fight, plain and simple. 

Link was confident he would fight until his last breath. 

“We can do this, okay?” he muttered to Zelda, squeezing her fingers. “Together. Like we’re meant to.”

Zelda’s green eyes bore into his, wide and fearful. Still, she nodded. “Together.”

 Taking a step back, Link bent down and picked up the Master Sword. It glowed an unearthly blue, brilliant in its radiance, beckoning him to use it. The weight of it was heavy in his palm, but comforting all the same. 

The Duke turned to face them. “What in Hylia’s name…”

Link raised his sword and pointed it at the Duke’s chest. “Don’t even think about touching us. Don’t lift a single finger, got it?”

The Duke’s face darkened, and he moved forward despite Link’s command. On the other side of the room, the massive form continued to twist and move, spindly legs cracking out from a bulging, pulsing body. It sounded like an avalanche falling down Death Mountain. 

Calamity Ganon was awakening. And Link would not have the Duke interfere.

“You will get what’s coming to you,” the Duke spat. Link wondered why Zelda bothered catching this asshole with her light magic, but he wasn’t about to question his wife’s decisions.

“If we don’t defeat the Calamity, all of Hyrule will be ruined,” Link said. He knew it was fruitless to reason with the man. He could see the crazed look in his eyes, the way his face purpled with rage the more that Link spoke down to him.

“As long as you die alongside them, I don’t give a damn,” the Duke said.

Link rolled his eyes. “Suit yourself, you piece of shit.” Then, turning toward the beast, he hefted his sword.

The monster growled and moaned as its legs uncurled from its body, striking outward across the floor. It lifted its head, pulsing with malice, and raised one of its many arms, its skin looking more like the stone of Sheikah tech than actual monster hide. Link gulped and readjusted his sweaty hands on the hilt of his sword. This…this was going to be a lot.

Beside Link, Zelda stepped forward, hand outstretched. Light poured from her fingertips.

As if sensing her presence, Ganon whirled around, insect legs crushing the stones beneath it, and unhinged its giant maw. The roar that it produced shook the castle down to its foundation. Was killing this beast even possible?

A whirl of fabric caught Link’s attention as the Duke, hair flying wildly in every direction, began to rush away from the beast. His face was frozen in fear, and though he had nowhere to go, Link was sure he’d never seen the man move so fast.

In one swift movement, Ganon stretched out a massive arm and scooped the Duke up in one of its hands.

“No!” the Duke screamed, thrashing within the creature’s hold. Link, on instinct, stepped in front of Zelda to protect her. But Ganon was solely focused on the Duke. “Unhand me! I’m not the one you want! I’m not—”

The crunch of his bones replaced his voice when the Calamity swallowed him down. 

Link’s breath caught, and his sword arm faltered. There went the most powerful man in all of Hyrule, eaten in one bite. And here Link was, a lowly thief, not even trained as a knight. A vagabond, wielding only a little skill with a blade and a bow. What could he hope to do against this creature of hatred and power? What could he hope to accomplish with this toothpick of a sword in his hand? 

Fingers curled around his shoulder from behind, and he flinched. But it was only Zelda, her skin swirling with light, her eyes, for once, laced with calm. 

“Together,” she said. 

The affection for her that swept over Link like a wave nearly sent him to his knees. He set his jaw and nodded. “Together.”

Zelda took a step forward, then another, her hand going toward the Calamity, who set his sights on the two of them. His eyes glowed with the rage built over thousands of years. Link raised his sword, ready to pounce, ready to do whatever it took to support Zelda in the sealing of this beast. 

Before Zelda could cast her magic upon Ganon, a strange sound reverberated through the entire chamber. 

Link couldn’t figure out what the high-pitched whining was. Like nails on glass, a fork upon a porcelain plate, it distracted both him and Calamity Ganon enough that neither of them anticipated the attack from above. 

A beam of blue light plunged down from the hole in the center of the ceiling and struck Ganon right on his back. The monster writhed and thrashed under the column of power. Link gasped and stumbled back, fearful of this new development, but Zelda cried out, “It’s the Divine Beasts!” 

By Hylia. It was . Link’s message had gotten to them on time. He wanted to fall to his knees and say every prayer of thanks he knew. 

With a cry of fury, Zelda’s body exploded into a beam of light that joined with the azure blast, assaulting Ganon on every side. Link didn’t know where to look, or where to strike. The monster roared his protest, screeching as the attack from the beasts and the brilliant light from the goddess herself overwhelmed him. Link was beginning to think that they could handle this on their own. 

But no, regardless of how the Calamity was stunned, it still screamed its determination into the chamber. Link’s sword flashed as Zelda’s light dimmed. 

When the glow faded, Link wasted no time. He rushed forward, blessed blade sparking, and struck the beast on his head with all of his might. The edge of his sword scraped along the monster’s skin with a screech that made Link’s ears ring, but still he found soft flesh underneath. The blows sent the Calamity into a fit of even greater screaming, and he reared back with all of his limbs, weapons whistling through the air. 

“Look out!” 

Zelda’s disembodied voice was enough of a warning to send Link jumping back before a burst of energy poured out of the Calamity’s body. It shook the floor, unbalancing him. The axe in one of the monstrous arms came sweeping toward him, and Link ducked under it and rushed forward again, slicing his sword across every surface he could possibly find. 

This monster had far too many limbs. One of them appeared out of nowhere, blasting Link backwards until his back hit the wall and he slumped to the ground. His breath wheezed out of him, and pain exploded behind his head. Still, he forced himself to his feet with a groan. His princess was still fighting, and so would he. 

Stones skittered under his feet as he rushed forward again. He ducked under the monster’s giant arm and stabbed the point of his blade up under the beast’s chin. It shuddered, but still it just wouldn’t die. 

High above him, light blasted into view once more. If Link squinted, he was sure he could just manage to make out the silhouette of his wife in the center as she raised her hand and sent a ray of divine power directly into the beast. The distraction was enough for Ganon to swing one of his spindly legs in a circle, slamming directly into Link’s knee. 

He heard the crunch of bone before pain exploded up his leg. He sank to the floor with a cry of pain as Zelda seared the Calamity with all of her divine retribution, chest heaving as he tried to breathe through the agony. Oh, goddess, he was doing nothing compared to her. And yet…

“Strike him once more!” Zelda cried from up above. Despite the burning inferno in his leg, Link pushed himself one last time to his feet and hefted the Master Sword. 

Together, he and Zelda slammed their weapons into Calamity Ganon; her light magic radiated over the monster’s entire pulsing body, and Link’s sword delivered the killing blow, blade carving through flesh like butter. 

With a roar that shook the castle, Calamity Ganon collapsed to the floor and disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

Link dropped the Master Sword to the floor and fell to the ground after it, a string of curses exploding from his lips as he looked at his shattered knee. Sweet Hylia, that was going to take forever to heal. 

Zelda materialized next to him in a flurry of sparkles, causing him to jerk back. She didn’t seem to notice his awe, instead kneeling before his broken leg with a look of pity. “Is it painful?”

Link leaned back on his palms and sucked in a shaky breath. “Nah, it’s like getting a massage.”

She scowled at him. He ventured a smile, despite his anguish. 

Outside the chamber, an almighty howl rent the air in two. 

Link and Zelda locked their gazes, faces going pale. Zelda was the first to voice what Link feared wasn’t true. 

“He’s not done,” she breathed. 

Link reached over to grip the Master Sword. “Castle Town.”

Zelda rose to her feet and bent to help Link to his, using her shoulder to support him. He didn’t know how she did it, but one second they were deep under the castle with no path to the surface, and the next they were surrounded in white, glittery light, before being deposited in a field of grass far outside of Hyrule Castle. 

Link looked at Zelda in wonder. “You’re incredible.”

He expected a smile, but her gaze was fixed over his shoulder, her eyes wide with terror. Link was almost afraid to look. 

But he did. And what he saw made his blood run cold. 

The Calamity had not succumbed. No, the malice that had swirled within the palace sanctum was creating a whirlwind in the middle of Hyrule field. Where thousands of citizens were currently congregating, having evacuated Castle Town in the wake of the Calamity’s emergence. 

Screams of fright and wailing children assaulted Link’s ears on all sides. The crowd formed a half circle around the mounting storm, all of them cowering in fear before the onslaught of malice. The people rushed like a tidal wave to the east, away from the beast’s reach. But Link knew that all it would take was one step, and half of them would be crushed underfoot. 

“LINK!”

The cry was familiar, and Link’s head whipped around on instinct. A woman was rushing toward them, trailed by several more citizens wielding weapons of various makes. Telma, Pumm, Kina, Gondo…even the royal knight that Link had fought with in the tournament, Pipit, had apparently defected from those serving the Duke and was directing the citizens away from the onslaught of the Calamity. 

“What are you doing here?” Telma asked. “What is that doing here?” She pointed toward the Calamity, which was slowly taking some sort of wild, massive boar shape. 

“We were fighting it under the castle!” Link answered, his voice too loud for their proximity. “We thought we had defeated it, but it came out here instead!”

Zelda gripped Link’s arm, holding him upright as he limped toward the people who had helped him. The crowd surged around them, jostling them back and forth, sending more pain across Link’s injured leg. “I think it knows who we’re trying to protect.”

“Where’s the Duke?” Telma asked, gaping at Zelda. “Didn’t he have you in the castle?”

Link and Zelda glanced at each other. The Duke was gone, crunched between the Calamity’s massive teeth. Link couldn’t say he was sorry for the man, but he was the reason that Link and Zelda were in the castle in time to stop the Calamity in the first place. Perhaps a quick end to the horrid Duke was the best for all of them. 

“He’s dead,” Link said, frowning. “The Calamity ate him.”

Despite the harrowing situation, a smile bloomed on Telma’s face. “Can’t imagine that wicked man tasted any good.”

“But now we have to defeat the beast,” Zelda insisted, pointing to the swarming malice. “Is there anything you can do to help us?”

Pumm’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to Pipit. “Is there a horse nearby they can use?”

Pipit nodded immediately. “Wait here, I know where to find one.”

He disappeared into the crowd. Link turned to Telma again, but was met with the outstretched hand of Gondo. He was gripping a large bundle of arrows, well-crafted and deadly sharp. “I was doing to use these in case we had to face down monsters in the evacuation, but you need them more than I do.”

Link didn’t have time to argue. He took the arrows and placed them in his quiver, which had been running dangerously low. 

Within seconds, Pipit returned leading a fine war horse, a rich chocolate color with a pure white mane. She was already saddled. “Here,” he said. “She belonged to—”

“Captain Ingo!” Link shouted, delighted that the horse he had pilfered from the captain so many months ago had made a return. She was a good steed, unflinching in the face of danger. Link grinned as he reached to brush his hand down her nose, but his smile faded quickly when his eyes went back to the beast. His arrows would do nothing against something of that size. There was no way he was going to be able to defeat it and protect all of these people at once. 

Zelda took hold of his arm and pushed him toward the horse’s saddle. “Get on!” she cried. “I have an idea!”

He wasn’t about to argue with his wife. Gondo helped him into the saddle, which proved difficult with his injured leg, but soon he was sitting up toward the saddle horn to create enough room for Zelda to be boosted on behind him. She gripped his waist with both of her arms, her presence at his back a steady stream of courage. 

“Go!” Telma said, pointing to the Dark Beast. “We’ll get the others out of the line of fire!” 

Link nodded down at his gathered friends. “Thank you,” he said. 

“No time for gratitude, you idiot!” With a slap on the horse’s rear, Telma sent Link and Zelda back off into battle. 

Link leaned over the horse’s neck and gripped the reins, willing his mount to go faster toward the forming beast. They tore over the expanse of Hyrule field, grass bending under the horse’s hooves, each jolt sending Link’s brain rattling in his skull. The smell of sulfur and smoke filled his nostrils, and he had to breathe through his mouth to contain his urge to gag. Ganon lifted his head toward the sky and let out a roar that sent most of the Castle Town citizens screaming in dismay. 

“What’s the plan?” Link called over his shoulder. 

In response, Zelda took the forest dweller’s bow from Link’s shoulder and wrapped her hands around it. He was dimly aware of light shining from her palms, imbuing magic into the bow. When the light faded, she handed the bow back to him. 

“I imbued it with sacred power!” she cried over the rushing wind. “When we get close, I’m going to face the beast. I can sense its weaknesses. I’ll show you where to strike!” 

He glanced back at her, fear gripping his heart. “Will you be safe?”

In response, Zelda leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I swear, I will be as safe as I can.”

They were nearing the beast now, and Link felt Zelda shift back, preparing to disappear. 

“I love you!” he shouted to her, wanting it to be the last thing she heard should something bad happen to the both of them. 

Her smile sent waves of courage crashing over him. “I love you more than anything.”

She vanished in a flash of divine light. 

Link pulled an arrow from his quiver and notched it in his bow, watching with satisfaction the way that it glowed between his fingertips. When he raised his sights toward the beast, a flash of white illuminated the monster’s side. 

“Strike the glowing points!” Zelda’s disembodied voice was like a soothing balm in his ear, and he drew back the arrow with the same confidence he used in the tournament. The horse continued to gallop beneath him, moving him around the circumference of the beast. The arrow shone against the darkness overhead. The wind was blustery, and he had to work to correct his aim, his mind performing calculations within seconds. 

He released his shot, and it plunged into the roaring malice with an explosion of radiance. The beast screeched in protest. Three more shining lights formed on the Calamity’s other side, and Link spurred his horse on, drawing another arrow. 

A rumble shook the entire field, and Link’s heart sank when a blast of power ripped out of the monster’s maw, aiming straight toward the running citizens. Zelda’s glowing light intercepted the beam, but Link could hear her scream as it did. The monster was draining her power, and fast. 

He shot three arrows in quick succession at the monster, striking it as fast as he could. This thing would not hurt his wife again.  

“He’s weakening!” Zelda cried, victorious despite the fatigue clear in her voice. 

“Show me another!” Link commanded, notching another arrow. 

Between the monster’s legs, another burst of light appeared. His arrow sank into it within seconds. 

The monster pawed at the ground with his massive hooves, roaring in pain as Link assailed it with more and more divine arrows, blessed not only with Zelda’s power, but with the faith and reverence of the very people he had dedicated his life to provide for. One arrow, two arrows, three, four. His vision narrowed to nothing but the horse beneath him and the beast above him. Nothing but Zelda’s voice in his ear. 

Finally, “Look up, Link!”

He did at her behest. And what he saw made his stomach clench even while a smile bloomed across his face. They had almost defeated it. They were almost done. Above the monster’s maw, a bulging eye appeared, ringed in holy light. It seemed to stare right into Link’s soul, challenging him, daring him to attack once more. Link would absolutely rise to the bait. 

“It’s the core of him, the root of his power!” Zelda cried. “Strike it!”

He wasted no breaths. His arrow zinged through the air, a mere speck compared to the size of the Dark Beast, and impaled itself in the eye with a blast that shook all of Hyrule. 

The beast reared up on its hind legs, and Link had to credit his horse for being brave enough to face this monstrosity down, because she didn’t balk once. Not when malice ripped through the air, not when a blast of thunder shook the ground, not even when the entire raging monster dissolved into nothing but ash and darkness. 

The silence that followed felt like a blow. Link pulled back on the reins, slowing his mount to a stop. His ears rang in the aftermath of the final roar. Still, he was on high alert, searching every which way for evidence of the beast, sure that he would be back once more, that they had not truly defeated it yet. The sky was still dark, the citizens still running toward the east side of Hyrule field. 

“Zelda?” he cried, standing up in his stirrups. He winced when his injured knee throbbed, and he collapsed back down on the saddle with a grunt. She did not answer. “Zelda!” 

A flash of light drew his attention, sailing slowly down from the sky. Link wheeled his horse around and urged it forward, his heart in his throat. 

When the light dissipated, Link dismounted and hobbled forward, hands stretched out. 

Zelda raced between his arms the second her feet touched the ground. She was alive. She was alright. Her skirt was matted with mud, the sleeve of her shirt ripped. Her hair had tangled around her ears. But she was alive. They had done it. 

“Link,” she cried, gripping his waist, pulling him even closer, “he’s gone!”

“We did it?” he asked, burying his hands in her hair. “They’re safe?”

She nodded and pressed her forehead to his. “The people are safe, Link. We did it.”

Link didn’t even give himself a chance to catch his breath before he kissed her. His lips pressed hard against hers, desperate to remind himself that she was here, that they had succeeded in their roles. He kissed her mouth, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, her chin. Anywhere he could reach, he pressed desperate kisses, gripping her tight enough to feel her heart beating against his. 

“I love you,” he breathed against her skin. “By the goddess, I love you so damn much.”

“I love you too,” she wept. Tears streamed down her face, and he alternated between wiping them away with his fingers and kissing them away with his lips. Soon, under the onslaught of his desperate kisses, she began to laugh. 

“It’s alright, Link,” she insisted, pressing a hand over his mouth to keep him at bay. “I’m alive. I’m here.”

He rubbed his nose along her cheek and squeezed her until both of his arms trembled with the force of it. “We did it.”

She nodded. “We saved Hyrule.”

Chapter Text

Link hissed in pain as he scrambled over the pile of rubble that blocked the castle hallway. The splint that Telma had placed on his leg, while an impressive contraption of leather-wrapped metal and buckles, was doing absolutely nothing to ease his agony.

He said as much to Zelda, who simply scowled at him over her shoulder and said, “She said it wouldn’t help if you didn’t also lie down!”

Link turned his nose up at her. “Like I’d let you come here alone.”

She turned down another hallway, Link’s hobbling gait the only thing keeping her pace slow. He’d already chewed her out for running into the castle before he could send a team in to investigate the wreckage. Their uneasy compromise was reached only when she allowed Link to accompany her inside. She refused to stay in Castle Town without knowing whether her father was alright.

A few people had already been rescued from the castle – some servants who had been trapped in their quarters, and a couple of noblemen who wailed at the state of their dress. Link flipped them off as they passed and barely resisted cuffing one around the ear. People had died, and they were worried about their clothes? Teams were scouring the whole castle, searching for more survivors, but Zelda had her sights set on the castle dungeons.

The stairs down to the cold, dank rooms were agony on his broken knee. He cursed and spluttered his way down the steps, earning himself several more sour looks from Zelda. Despite their squabbling, Link’s heart was positively overflowing with affection and adoration for her. And he would never deny her this, only wanting to keep her safe in the process.

“Father?” Zelda called as they stepped into the hallway lined with cells. Some rubble littered the passage, and there were fissures on the walls and cracks in some of the bars, but otherwise the place looked unharmed. That was, until they came into sight of the first cell and beheld the pile of rubble that had filled the entire space.

Zelda’s face paled. “Father!” she screamed, louder this time, rushing down the hall toward her father’s cell. Link raised his gaze to the sky and prayed that they would not find him crushed to death in his cell. He couldn’t stand the thought of Zelda’s heartbreak if that happened.

Zelda skidded to a stop in the middle of the hallway and pressed her whole body up against a set of bars. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes slipped closed.

Link increased his pace, ready to wrap his arms around her and pull her head away from the sight of her father, but a voice drifted out of the cell, halting him in his tracks. “Zelda?”

Oh, thank Hylia and the three goddesses. King Rhoam was alive.

Link stepped in front of the cell door and peered in to see the king sitting up against the wall, his face drawn and pale, his hair and beard snarled around his cheeks. Dirt and dust riddled his silk pajamas. 

And a boulder sat atop his right leg.

When Link came into view, King Rhoam’s eyes widened even further. “Link…Zelda. You’re alive?”

Zelda curled her hands around the bars and gripped them tight enough to turn her knuckles white. “I am, Father. We did it. The Duke is head, we defeated the Calamity.”

The king closed his eyes and tipped his head back, letting it fall against the stone wall behind him. “Praise the goddess.”

Zelda turned to Link, her expression pleading. “Can you pick the lock?”

Link patted down his shirt. “I don’t know if I have anything I can pick it with. I’m still in my wedding clothes.”

Zelda harrumphed and reached for her head, but her hair was not held back with a pin. Her fingers flexed in anger. “We need to get him out!”

“I know, sweetheart,” Link assured her. He reached down to one of the belts that held his leg splint in place and undid it. It took him a second, but he managed to work one of the thin strips of metal free from its leather covering strapped to his leg. Tongue between his teeth, he bent the strip of metal and jammed it into the cell lock.

The king raised an eyebrow. “Quite resourceful.”

“I am the most wanted thief in Hyrule,” Link responded cheekily. Rhoam looked pointedly away, a flush coloring his cheeks beneath his beard. Link swallowed and focused his attention on the lock. Probably shouldn’t be calling attention to his criminal history in front of his father-in-law. 

Within a few seconds, the cell sprang open, and Zelda rushed toward her father.

“Link, help me with this,” she said, pressing her hands flat against the boulder that had crushed the king’s leg.

Link dropped the piece of metal to the floor and limped to join her. Together, they managed to roll the rock to the side, exposing the bruised and bloody leg beneath.

Rhoam heaved a sigh of relief when the pressure was removed. “Thank you both.” He raised his eyes to Link. “And thank you, especially, for saving my daughter. And for destroying the Calamity. I know it was probably very difficult to do alone, but—”

“I wasn’t alone,” Link interrupted, ignoring all rules of propriety that might have applied to speaking with the king. He settled a hand on the small of Zelda’s back, pushing her in front of him. “She did most of the work, actually. I just aimed where she showed me.”

Rhoam’s gaze went to his daughter, and surprise lifted his features. “You…you actually awoke your powers?”

Blushing, Zelda nodded. “I did. Thanks to Link.”

Link shrugged. “All I did was almost die.”

Rhoam frowned, but Zelda was already moving past it. “We have to get you out of here,” she said, reaching toward her father’s hand. “Can you stand?”

In response, Rhoam braced his back against the wall and pushed his good leg underneath him. Link’s own knee throbbed, but at least it was just a shattered bone. Judging by the state of the king’s leg and the length of time he spent under that boulder, he might lose everything below his knee. Link raised his eyes to Rhoam’s and saw the silent plea not to say as much in front of Zelda. Link decided to keep his mouth shut.

Gotta get the in-law points somehow. 

Zelda propped her shoulder under Rhoam’s arm and supported him on his bad side. Link, feeling suddenly awkward, limped back and gestured to the exit.

“I would offer to help, but…” He glanced down to his own leg, still half-tied in its splint.

Rhoam shook his head. “You have nothing else you need to do, Link. Both of you are to be commended for what you’ve done here today. Link, I plan to exonerate you of your crimes. All of them. From this moment forward, you are no longer a criminal in the eyes of the law. And Zelda…” He turned teary, affectionate eyes onto his daughter, who stared up at him with nothing but relief. “I owe you an apology, for how I’ve treated you. I want to make amends. Make things right.”

Link watched tears well in Zelda’s eyes, and he would be damned if his own eyes didn’t go misty at the sight. “We should get you out of here. We’ll have time to talk later,” he insisted. Anything to keep himself from breaking down in front of his wife’s father.

As they walked from the dungeon, the king’s words rang in his head. I plan to exonerate you of your crimes. 

He couldn’t believe it. He was no longer a criminal…just like that? 

Some part of him mourned it. He’d been the Lost Bandit for so long, he had grown quite proud of the moniker. He wanted to help Hyrule in whatever way he could, and losing that ability somehow felt like a stone weighing on his chest. 

But then…the reality of his situation crashed into him. When he married Zelda in Hateno, he hadn’t exactly been thinking of the far future. Truthfully, he had simply wanted to declare his love and devotion to her and remain by her side until he was inevitably killed by either the Duke or the Calamity. For the last several months, his death had seemed just around the corner, and each day could have been his last. 

And now…he had his whole life ahead of him. He had his wife, he had freedom. And, because of who is wife was…

Holy shit. He was going to be crowned Prince of Hyrule. Had already been carrying that title since the moment he spoke his vows to Zelda in Hateno. 

The thought slowed him down, and he stared, wide-eyed at the surrounding rubble. Rubble of his castle. Because he was the prince. Because he was part of the royal family now. 

Zelda glanced over her shoulder, her brow knotted with concern. “Link? Are you alright?”

Despite the shock coursing through him like a bucket of ice water dumped on his head, he smiled at her. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m going to be just fine.”

— — — 

The citizens of Castle Town banded together over the next several days to carry out rescue missions in the castle, care for the wounded, and begin to construct pyres for those whose lives were lost in the wake of the Calamity. Link helped wherever he could, but the strain he placed on his bad knee proved to be too much, and Telma refused to let him stand for more than an hour every day. Instead, he was put to work in her home, ripping apart old clothes and soaking them in disinfectant to make bandages for the wounded. It was frustrating to no end. He wanted to be reconstructing, climbing parapets, handing out jewels to those whose houses were destroyed. 

And yet, despite his infirmary, hundreds of people came to see him at Telma’s place. He felt like an object on display, an animal kept in a cage while people paraded past him, offering him gratitude and congratulations. He knew he didn’t fully deserve it, especially when he saw the bandages and the limps sported by over half the population or heard of the casualties that had occurred in the wake of the Calamity. The frustration of sitting still and the guilt that gnawed at his chest were enough to nearly drive him to the edge of insanity. 

The only thing that served as a comfort was the presence of his wife. Zelda was the picture of the perfect princess, organizing relief efforts, getting her hands dirty with rebuilding, pulling thousands of rupees from the royal coffers to distribute among those who had suffered losses. But even though she spent the days surrounded by adoring crowds and well-wishers, she never failed to come back to Telma’s spare room by the end of the day and crawl into bed next to him. Never ceased to run her hands down the length of his chest and tell him all about the restoration efforts. It brought him immeasurable joy to see her so happy. 

Within a few days, all four of Hyrule’s champions arrived in Castle Town. Their first order of business was to track down Link in his lodging and thank him profusely for the warning he had sent to them on the night the Calamity had appeared. Because of his foresight, they had been on high alert when rushing to their Divine Beasts. When faced with the Blights that attempted to possess their contraptions, all four Champions successfully defended their strongholds and seized control in time to deliver the blow to the Calamity. 

With their arrival came a celebration that took over the entire city. Banners were hung on dilapidated storefronts, vendors served fresh food, bonfires were lit and everyone dressed in their finest clothes to pay homage to the end of the Calamity and the end of the horrid Duke of Necluda. 

Link’s korok friends hopped around the celebration, stealing food and playing games in the alleys and positively fawning over the princess. Link didn’t miss the lingering looks from the citizens of Castle Town every time he bent to talk to one of them, but he couldn’t imagine ignoring the little sprites who helped him so much in the fight against the Duke. Maybe they weren’t so annoying after all. 

The four Champions were honored in a sacred ceremony just outside the castle walls. Zelda was publicly hailed as the savior of Hyrule. 

And Link, Lost Bandit, scourge of Hyrule, thief extraordinaire…he was crowned the prince consort in front of the entirety of Castle Town. 

— — — 

Link laced his fingers between Zelda’s as they strolled through the newly-cleaned castle hallway toward Zelda’s bedrooms. There were still parts of the castle that had yet to be restored, but special care had been taken to give the saviors of Hyrule their own space, something that Link wasn’t going to complain about. He appreciated Telma’s generosity, but he was more than happy to finally be alone with Zelda. 

His newly-healed knee still ached, so he slowed his pace for a moment, trying and failing to hide his grimace. Zelda rolled her eyes, pulled him to a stop, and reached to adjust the crown atop his head. 

“You had a big day today,” she said, gazing lovingly at him. “I’m surprised you’re not calling for a feast to be delivered to our rooms.”

Link waved a hand dismissively and patted his stomach. “I snuck plenty of food from the coronation vendors. If I have one more bite, I’ll probably explode.”

Zelda grinned. “So, Prince Link. What do you think you’ll want to do with your new title?”

Link wasn’t sure he was ready to have this conversation already, not so soon after the coronation. He had been mulling over it for days, trying to figure the best way to go about it. His cheeks flushed red, and he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, uncomfortable beneath Zelda’s intense stare. “You really wanna know?”

Zelda crossed her arms. “Of course I want to know. I cannot guarantee to accomplish it, but if you truly have an idea—”

“I have hundreds of ideas,” Link admitted sheepishly. “I want to make sure that nothing like what happened with the Duke ever happens again. I want to raze his estate to the ground, give back every single rupee he stole from his people. I want to rebuild Hateno. I want to audit the rest of the nobles and make sure they’re not overtaxing their people as well. I want to cut down the budget for the castle and lower taxes all over Hyrule. I want to build roads, and infrastructures that will help people, and make sure that—”

Zelda held up a hand to stop him, but a smile was etched onto her face from ear to ear. “Link, that all sounds absolutely wonderful. But we should try to do it all one at a time, okay?”

Link balked, eyes widening. “You agree with all of it, though?”

Zelda reached out and took his hands. “Of course I do, Link. I plan to stop standing idly by while people like the Duke take advantage of poor, helpless citizens. I’m in this with you, Link. I will use every ounce of power I have to dismantle that same power from the inside…if that makes sense.”

Link reached out and pressed his palm to the side of Zelda’s face, adoration bubbling up in his chest. Goddesses, he loved this woman so damn much. “It certainly makes sense. And it sounds absolutely perfect.”

“Good,” Zelda smiled, leaning her cheek into his palm. “I can’t expect to crown the Lost Bandit as prince consort and not expect some radical changes to be made.”

Link surged forward and kissed her, hard. She squeaked in surprise against his lips, voice high-pitched in laughter, and threw her arms around his shoulders. He kissed her fiercely, fingers digging into her waist, pulling her closer and closer until there was no space between them at all. He didn’t care that they were still in the hallway, that any moment they could be caught engaged in a less than polite act. But to hell with it, he was the prince. He could kiss his wife wherever he wanted. 

“I love you so much,” he muttered against her lips, sliding his kisses across her cheek and down her jaw. “You’re the perfect woman.”

Zelda craned her neck up, allowing him to press more kisses down the column of her throat. “I love you too, Link.” Then, she released a heavy, melancholic sigh. 

Link pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Blushing, Zelda stared at the ground. “Just a silly thought.”

He nudged her chin, prompting her to look back up at him. “What?”

She bit her lip, then said, “I just…it’s kind of sad, don’t you think? That you’ll never steal anything again. Feels like the end of an era.”

The corner of Link’s mouth lifted in a sly grin. “Who said I’m not going to steal anything anymore?”

Zelda’s eyes widened, and suddenly Link’s arms were around her waist, throwing her up and over his shoulder. She shrieked as he stole her down the long, padded hallway. 

“Stop!” she cried, laughing as she struggled against his hold. “Unhand me, you scoundrel!”

“Sorry, Princess, but I’m afraid a crown doesn’t negate my sticky fingers,” he chuckled. He increased his pace, the hallway ringing with his laughter, and bore Zelda the rest of the way to their bedroom. 

When he finally set her down, the princess who had stolen his heart landed an impressive punch to his arm and said, “I suppose I should have expected it. Once a bandit, always a bandit, after all.”

Link curled his arms around his wife’s waist and grinned down at her. “You know me so well.”