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Zelda rolled her eyes.
“It’s Gerudo Town, Link, what could happen? It’s probably the safest place in Hyrule next to the castle.”
Link had his doubts — he’s fought assailants away from the town gates before — but he supposed with Urbosa and Impa with her, he shouldn’t worry too much.
He will anyway.
“You stay in the bazaar and I’ll meet you when it’s time to go home. Relax a little!”
Sure, as if that were possible whenever she was out of his sight. And just how much relaxing could he do when he was forced to babysit him ?
Zelda was joining Urbosa, Mipha, Impa and Purah for Galentine’s Day, a Gerudo tradition that had sprung up in answer to Valentine’s Day for the many vai disappointed by the voe in their lives. And since many Gerudo dispensed with voe all together, it had turned into a day to spend with your friends, to relax and have a good time. Zelda had been looking forward to it for weeks and Link wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of her having a relaxing day away from the worries of the kingdom and the pending calamity. Not even his own anxiety over her safety.
Then, at almost the last minute, she was informed that her cousin, confusingly also named Zelda, was visiting from a distant kingdom. The two princesses met at the castle with all due pomp and circumstance, and Link’s princess was overjoyed to add one more to her Galentine’s Day party. There was only one problem: Zelda’s cousin had brought her own companion, the hero of her kingdom. Also named Link. What were the odds?
Certainly not in Link’s favor.
Things got off on the wrong foot almost immediately.
“You don’t have a lot to say, do you?” the brown-haired hero asked him, feet planted wide, hands on his hips, chest puffed out. The stance of a hero, of a man confident in his status. He’s a few inches taller than Link, and just a little bigger, and while Link had never felt compelled to compare his size to anyone else, for some reason, it rankled with the hero. And while Link preferred to keep his mouth closed and his thoughts to himself, the hero couldn't seem to shut up, constant mouthfuls of charming patter streaming from his lips at all times. Link found he resented him for being somehow more , a little bit of everything Link wasn't.
On the road to Gerudo, Link was pleased to see the hero jump into action without hesitation when a large pack of moblins and bokoblins beset the party. He was less pleased to watch his counterpart casually blip bokoblins out of existence with some beam from his short sword rather than jump into the fray, while Link narrowly avoided losing a finger to a moblin, then had to spend some time cleaning bokoblin guts off of the Master Sword and out of his hair.
The hero did not misinterpret Link’s glare at him.
“Doesn’t yours do that?” the hero asked, incredulous. Link only responded by angrily wiping smoking purple blood from the blade of the Master Sword.
“Well excuuuuse me, Mr. Knight,” the hero muttered under his breath.
By the time they reached Kara Kara Bazaar, Link had had about enough. All he could think about was getting a bath to wash off the travel dust and moblin goo, then settling in to a large meal and plenty of cold drinks at the inn while they wait for the party to get back from the festivities in the city. But it seemed he was destined to not get even that much, for as soon as the ladies left, the hero made to follow them. Link grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back, gesturing sharply at the hero to follow Link into the bazaar.
“Gerudo Town is that way, though.”
Link tried to swallow his irritation, pausing to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he turned to face the hero. It seemed Link’s famous stoicism was no match for the obnoxious hero, as the other man paled a bit at the unamused expression on his face. But he was determined to stay the course, keeping his arm outstretched and pointed at the distant city, shimmering in the desert heat. Link shook his head in response and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the bazaar. They were not interrupting Galentine’s Day.
“Are you suggesting we let the girls go off by themselves? What if something happens?”
The girls . Link rolled his eyes. Zelda had become a terror with the Sheikah slate, giving even white-maned lynels a run for their money. He’s sparred with Impa and her clones himself and nearly didn’t make it. Mipha may not be able to conjure geysers in the desert as she does in the saturated lands of Lanayru, but her spear is still plenty sharp. And he’s seen Purah kick Robbie enough times before to respect the scientist’s strength. Zelda’s cousin had taken out a few bokoblins with her boomerangs. Add to that Urbosa, a formidable warrior on her own with power over lightning, and no, he’s not worried about their safety at all.
The hero seemed to realize this at the same time, but then his face lit up as a new thought occurred to him.
“Besides,” the hero said cajolingly, “wouldn’t it be better if they don’t have to fight to protect themselves? If we’re there, we can keep any threats away from them, leaving them to truly relax all day.”
Link wanted to argue, but — he’s got him there. While Link had every confidence the women could take care of themselves, he was also determined that they have this day, as relaxing and free from care as possible. The hero was triumphant when he realized he'd won.
However, Link was not above a little petty revenge. He gestured the hero ahead of him, and followed along, letting the hero lead the way. The man barely paused for breath amidst a steady litany of complaints: it’s way too hot here; it’s so unfair that his Zelda left him behind, he never gets to do anything fun; maybe the Triforce of Wisdom was not so wise in its suggestion that they come here. Link followed the hero toward the gates of the city, but made sure to hang back a bit, not willing to associate himself with what was about to come. He watched with no small amount of glee as the hero confidently approached the two guards at the gate and attempted to stride right into the city, only to be tossed back on his rear into the sand.
“You could have mentioned that they don’t let men into the city,” he grumbled as he took Link’s outstretched hand and got to his feet. Link only smiled slyly, then gestured him over behind the shrine that sat near the main gate. The hero watched curiously as Link reached into his enchanted bag and pulled out a wad of silk and gold chains that tinkled with gems and golden coins, then promptly began to strip his clothes off.
“Whoah, hey!” the hero spat before spinning around. Link shrugged. He’s a soldier and had slept and bathed around other people for as long as he can remember. He has no trouble undressing in front of an audience. He dropped his belts, pulled off his bracers, then his shirt and pants until he was just in his underwear. Then he began the painstaking process of putting on the layers of silk and gemstones, fought with the top a bit to get it to sit right, tugged the sirwal up so it wouldn’t slip down, then hooked the head covering and veil on before tapping the hero on the shoulder. Link spread his hands in a gesture meant to ask, So, what do you think?
The hero’s face got even redder than it did when Link began to take his clothes off.
“I … you …” he sputtered in confusion, before Link gestured down at his clothes, then jerked his thumb at the walls of the city. The hero’s face cleared.
“Oh! So we just have to dress up to get in. No problem.”
Link had expected a lot more resistance, or at least quite a bit of complaint from the hero. He hadn’t been prepared for such an easy acquiescence, and waited with some interest as the hero fished around in his own bag before pulling out a wad of brightly colored taffeta and tulle.
“Good thing I grabbed one of Zelda’s old dresses and put it in here. I did not want a repeat of what happened the last time we were attacked at a formal ball!”
Link decided it was best not to ask.
The hero shook the dress out triumphantly, then gave Link a look.
“Do you mind ?”
Link rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance before turning his back. There was quite a bit of rustling, and cursing, and then the sound of a seam tearing before: “Okay, you can turn around again.”
The hero was a vision. Swathed in the brightest, poofiest dress Link had ever seen, the hero’s skirt billowed in yards of tulle around his hips, the fuscia fabric gleaming in the desert sun. He’d even taken off his ridiculous hat and hastily smoothed his brown hair back into a neater style. The dress’s bodice sagged in front, designed for breasts the hero did not have, but he dug into his bag and pulled out handfuls of socks and handkerchiefs and began to stuff them in until the shape was right.
“I have a magic bag too!” he declared, misinterpreting Link’s raised eyebrows.
Satisfied with his stuffing job, the hero shook out the skirt of the dress, then reached back into his magic bag and pulled out earrings, a pearl necklace and a pair of slippers. Just when Link thought he was done, the hero fished out a tiara and settled it onto his brown hair with a flourish.
“So, what do you think?”
He looked ridiculous. There was no way this outfit would get him in the gates. Link remembered one time his veil slipped and the guards tossed him out so fast he barely had a chance to taste his hydromelon juice before he was spitting out sand. Link was tempted to tell the hero as much, but decided once more to let him find out for himself. Instead, he shrugged, made a “lead the way” gesture, and the two headed back toward the gates.
Link had to admit he was impressed. He had rather figured the hero would whine and moan and want to sneak into Gerudo Town like so many other men try to do, to climb its walls and skulk about and try to evade the guard. Link had imagined he’d have to argue with him about putting on the vai disguise, and the hero would finally give up and go back to the bazaar to wait for their respective princesses to return. He was even more impressed when the guards didn't bat an eye and the two were allowed to stroll right through the gates. Perhaps all it takes is a little respect.
The two heroes managed to discover the party just as they left the spa to head toward the Noble Canteen. The ladies were laughing and chatting, clearly having a good time, and the two voe hung well back in order to avoid detection. Their disguises might've been enough to satisfy the guards, but both heroes knew it would never pass the sharp eyes of their clever princesses. Both Links ducked behind a wall, watching as the ladies climbed the stairs to the canteen and settled into the open air pavilion. Urbosa called for a round of the bar’s signature drink, the Noble Pursuit. The heroes settled in just below them, sitting on the street in the scant shade afforded by the wall of the canteen, the stone cool against their backs. They weren’t hiding, or spying, no, of course not! They were simply taking a break from the heat of the day in a cool part of the city that just happened to be right below the Noble Canteen.
The two heroes listened to the calm sound of the ladies’ voices as they floated down from the canteen, dozing in the heat of the late afternoon. The women talked about this and that, but it wasn’t long before the pleasant company and the alcohol content of the drinks led to an airing of grievances.
The Calamity, the trials of piloting a Divine Beast, the annoyance that was the Yiga Clan, the superior results of the use of hot-footed frogs in elixirs, the relative merits of certain stones in properly whetting your best blade — no topic seemed overlooked. And though they had vowed at the outset that voe were not to be discussed that day, for it was Galentine’s Day, a day for vai and vai alone — it seemed they just couldn't help themselves.
Purah was annoyed at Robbie’s showboating in the lab, only because it got in the way of her own posing. One time they nearly gave each other a black eye when they both flung an arm out dramatically at the same time. Mipha mentioned Sidon’s many escapades and how they kept her on her toes while adroitly avoiding discussion of romance all together. Impa hinted at a secret lover, and the group tried to guess who it might be once she revealed he would likely not meet with their approval. Urbosa simply regarded the group with a sense of smug superiority, commenting that voe were never her interest and she was glad she avoided all of the nonsense.
Zelda sighed mournfully.
“I think Link likes me … Well, I want to think he likes me.”
Link perked up, roused out of his sun-baked stupor at the sound of his name. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the hero had done the same.
“I know he does things for me, like that incense. But he’d never admit to it, never says anything at all! My maids were the ones who told me all about it.”
The hero elbowed him, hard, and Link theatrically clutched his side while giving him an incredulous look. The hero only glared at him and rolled his eyes.
“I only wish I knew for certain … I wouldn’t want to, I don’t know, make a move on him, or something, only to discover I was mistaken . I mean, it seems impossible that someone like him might have feelings for someone like me.”
Link closed his eyes and let his head thump back against the cool stone wall behind him. The elation he felt at confirmation that she returned his affection was drowning in the shame that he was also the source of her unhappiness. He could hear the misery in her voice, could practically see the way she hid her expression behind her hair, the way she twisted her fingers together in her lap. That she might think she could be unworthy of him , all because he was such a coward —
“Oh Princess, don’t say that! Remember the fruitcake?”
That was Impa’s voice. Zelda made a noise of agreement.
“That was all his idea. He even baked it! But he insisted I pretend it was my idea.”
The traitor! There was a round of scoffing and derisive noises from the other ladies.
“Seriously?” the hero hissed at him. Link emphatically put his finger to his lips, willing the hero to silence as the conversation continued above them.
“That voe just needs someone to shock some sense into him,” Urbosa said, and there was the sound of snapping fingers and the crackle of electricity, raising the hair on his arms and filling the air with the smell of ozone. Impa cackled in delight while Mipha gasped in astonishment, and Urbosa’s laughter boomed out at their response. Zelda seemed to not have noticed any of it.
“If he’d only say something, just one thing to let me know how he feels …”
There were murmurs of commiseration from the other ladies. Link felt at a loss. How could he possibly begin to express the depth of the love and regard he had for Zelda with mere words? Words had never been his strong suit; they didn't come to him easily. He had always expressed himself better through his actions; through keeping her safe, making her life easier, and finding small ways to make her happy. Words had always been her sphere, spilling easily and eloquently from her mouth, pouring in a continuous stream from her pen. That was her true power, goddess blood aside; Link was sure Zelda could easily debate the Calamity into sealing itself.
But clearly his actions just weren't enough, weren't enough to counteract the doubt that festered inside Zelda after so much struggle in the face of disappointment after disappointment. Link studiously avoided looking at the hero, unable to stomach the smug look he was sure adorned the hero’s face. However, the hero doesn’t let Link get away with avoiding him.
“No worries! I know exactly how to talk to a princess,” the hero whispered to him.
“I can teach you all the right things to say —” he began, but he was interrupted before he could impart his sage advice to Link.
“Your Link doesn’t say enough, and mine says too much!” declared another voice. Zelda’s cousin sounded as exasperated as Zelda was mournful. The hero’s mouth shut with an audible snap.
“He’s infuriating! Always begging for a kiss, constantly talking as if he were the goddess’ gift to Hylian kind.”
Now Link did look at the hero, and had the satisfaction of watching the smug look slip off his face.
Link heard the tinkle of ice in a glass; it seemed Zelda’s cousin needed a fortifying sip of her Noble Pursuit before she delved into the many ways her Link had failed her. Urbosa called for another round; it seemed the ladies would be needing it.
“I wish he’d just … shut up sometimes, listen to what I have to say. Just be there for me, instead of … instead of always trying to be a hero!”
For all of his confidence, it seemed the hero’s method wasn’t successful either. Link reached out to give the hero’s shoulder a squeeze in commiseration.
“I do love him, I really do. I know I couldn’t do it without him. I only wish he’d close his mouth for once so he stops sticking his foot in it.” Link could practically hear the princess’s crossed arms and annoyed expression.
After that, the ladies’ voices settled into a low chatter that didn't quite carry over the wall to where the heroes sit.
“I can’t understand what they’re saying,” the hero pouted.
Link shrugged. After the earful they both just received, did they really need to hear more?
“We should go up there.”
Link turned an incredulous look on the hero. Was he serious? The ladies may be drinking, but they’re not drinking so much they wouldn’t recognize both of them if they showed up in the bar.
“No, not in there. Up there!” he said, pointing above them to the top of the wall that surrounded the bar. Link shook his head at the hero in vehement disagreement. But the hero had succeeded once in getting his way with Link, and he was willing to keep trying.
“What if —” the hero began. Link turned his head away and folded his arms across his chest, clearly indicating he would not be pulled into whatever scheme the hero was cooking up.
“What if,” the hero continued, ignoring Link’s attempt to shut him down, “they say something else about us?”
Link hunched in on himself, turning as far away from the hero as he could. It seemed entirely too selfish to think the ladies’ conversation might once again settle on their love lives — or the lack thereof. And yet … curiosity tugged at him, despite his best intentions.
The hero could tell he’d almost hooked Link. “What if they say something that helps us fix this?”
Link sighed and loosened his arms, then thumped his head once more on the stone wall. This was a bad idea. But … They could climb up on the crates, conveniently stacked against the wall, then lie on top of the wall that surrounded the bar. The awning that covered the veranda would hide them from view …
He thumped his head again, hoping to knock some sense into himself. He couldn’t believe he was allowing himself to be talked into such a terrible idea, they were sure to get caught …
“I bet those crates would get us close enough …”
Link groaned, and thumped his head against the wall one more time, a little harder, just for good measure. Then he waved his hand at the hero, got to his feet, and climbed up on the crates. With a bit of scrambling, the hero soon joined him. Link ran his hands over the wall, looking for a good handhold.
“Does this look like a dress I can climb in?”
Link shrugged at him. The hero gave Link an assessing look, glancing between him and the top of the wall. Before he could even think to protest, the hero planted his hands on Link’s shoulders, vaulted himself up, then, bracing his feet on Link’s hips, scrambled to a stand on his shoulders. Link staggered to keep them both upright, nearly toppling off the crates before he got his balance. Apparently the dress allowed the hero to climb people more easily than walls.
"No peeking, now!" the hero cautioned.
As if he could see anything past the fluffy skirt of the dress. Link was offended that the hero thought he would even consider such a thing! Not that he’d been spared a glimpse of the hero’s boxers (white with red hearts), unavoidable as the hero scrambled past Link’s face in a cloud of tulle and lace petticoats.
Unfortunately, even thus stacked, the hero still was a few inches short of the top of the wall.
“Boost me up!” The hero hissed down. Link wasn’t sure if the hero thought Link had suddenly grown a few inches, or what, but standing precariously on tiptoe seemed to be enough to let him reach the edge of the wall. Link then grabbed him by the ankles and pushed him the rest of the way up, despite admonishments from the hero to “not be so handsy.” Link wondered if it might be possible to boost the hero right over the wall and into the waiting maw of a Molduga.
Once the hero was secure at the top of the wall, Link climbed up after him, and they stealthily made their way closer to where the ladies had gathered. Link was right, the awning did conceal their position on the top of the wall. He could see Zelda below him, and inched himself out, anxiously hoping she said something else about him. Which seemed pretty self-centered, once he thought about it, but he’d been lucky this far …
The women’s voices were still a murmur below them, but Link could swear he heard his name again, and one look at the hero told him he wasn’t just hearing things. If only they could get a little closer … Both heroes edged themselves farther out, hanging precariously over the edge, when suddenly, a sinister voice rang out across the city plaza.
“Princess! At last I find you without your hero to protect you!”
Astor! Link thought, and exchanged a shocked look with the hero. The hero may not have known Astor, but he certainly knew the tones of trouble when he heard them. Link only hoped Kohga hadn’t tagged along as well — but the Yiga master’s tittering laughter soon ended that dream. And wherever Kohga was, Sooga wasn’t far behind.
“Ugh, really ?!” Impa yelled. “These guys?!”
Impa was not usually quite so … vehement, Link thought, and realized with no small amount of dread that it likely meant the Noble Pursuits were mixed extra strong that day. Normally he would have no qualms in leaving the women to protect themselves against such a threat, but they had been drinking, and … did they even have their weapons with them when they entered the bar?
“Kill them! All of them!” Astor cried. Yiga streamed over the wall, and Astor unleashed a fleet of hollows — evil clones that glowed with malice.
Link was allowed to dither only a bit longer before the hero hissed “What are you doing? Go!” and shoved him right off the wall and into the fray. Link wasn’t sure if the hero meant to follow, but he didn’t give him the choice, grabbing his outstretched arm and yanking him down with him. The heroes landed with a thud and, though considerably disoriented by the fall, Link was able to look around and assess the situation.
Mipha was fending off Yiga foot soldiers with her spear, while Purah was busy whacking them with some ancient tech weapon she had recently developed. Impa was in some sort of face off with Sooga that consisted of burning glares exchanged across crossed swords. Urbosa was attempting to electrocute Kohga, who teleported about the veranda as quickly as she charged her lightning bolts. The many Noble Pursuits she’d had by that point were not helping her aim, as far as Link could determine, but she seemed to be holding her own and having a great time to boot.
Which left the two Zeldas to face what remained: the hollows. Link had faced them before, evil malice clones of his friends that silently attacked him, seemingly drawn from the fear of seeing your allies turned against you. And today was no different: The hollows were exact copies of the two Links.
Zelda was doing her best to fend off the multiple, swiftly-moving clones of her knight attendant as they surrounded her. The Sheikah Slate spat out a constant stream of runes, locking some clones into stasis, catching weapons with magnesis and flinging them back into the fray, sending ice blocks careening through the horde, and exploding bombs as quickly as she was able to generate them.
“Link!” she cried, surprised when he appeared at her side. But there wasn’t time for more, as the hollows sped at them, and he only had time to unsheath the Master Sword and began taking out the hollows as quickly as Astor was able to generate them. He and the princess made such a good team, fighting back the hollows side-by-side. Once he might have believed that would be enough to show her that he would always be there for her when she needed him, but her surprise at his appearance made him realize she needed a stronger confirmation.
As Link and Zelda took out the hollows, and the other ladies swiftly beat back the Yiga, Astor seemed to see the writing on the wall and called for a retreat. Link slashed the last hollow out of existence and turned to see how the hero fared. He and his Zelda had fended off all but the last, persistent hollows as they came toward the princess, lips pursed to take a kiss whether she wanted to give it or not. The hero zapped his last hollow away before spinning to take in the scene: his princess, out of boomerangs and trapped against the wall, the final hollow in his shape closing in on her.
“Hey!” the hero yelled. “At least ask first!”
In an impressive feat of acrobatics Link did not expect, the hero did a standing forward flip, landing right in front of the hollow just as it reached his princess. Uncertain what might happen if the malice hollows were to actually touch anyone, Link dashed forward. But he was too late.
“Ow! Hey!” the hero cried as the hollow landed the kiss he so often asked for. “Back off!” He shoved the hollow away, giving Link an opening to strike it down.
“Thanks,” the hero muttered, rubbing the faint red burn in the shape of puckered lips on his cheek where the hollow kissed him.
“Surprise kisses aren’t so much fun after all,” he grumbled.
“Link?!” Zelda’s cousin cried. “When … is that my dress?”
The hero gave a twirl. “It suits me, don’t you think?”
“I … I suppose it does. You followed us?”
Link and the hero exchanged sheepish looks.
“Well, Link here was sure something was going to happen, and despite me telling him you ladies can take care of yourselves, he insisted we follow you just in case!”
Zelda’s cousin folded her arms and gave her hero a look.
“Really. He said all of that, huh?”
The hero had the grace to look embarrassed in the face of his princess’s skepticism and Link’s annoyed glare.
“Well, maybe not in so many words …”
“Well,” Link’s princess said, “I must say I’m glad you came along after all. I don’t know if we could have defeated those hollows on our own! And I’m certainly … impressed at the lengths you went to to ensure our safety.”
Link flushed, suddenly remembering how he was dressed; Zelda had never seen him in this disguise. He hoped it made it clear to her that he would do anything for her, but the memory of those silent hollows, manifestations of her fears, swarming her and trying to bring her down, made a sick feeling bloom in his middle. She would need more from him than actions if she were to believe he was there for her in more ways than just protection.
Zelda’s cousin shuddered. “Those ghost things were so creepy! The way they just kept coming after me! And they looked just like you!
“But then you were there, willing to take the kiss for me! It was the most heroic thing I’ve ever seen you do!”
“It was?!” the hero asked, stunned.
“It was,” Zelda’s cousin smiled. “So heroic, I could just kiss you!”
“You could?!”
“I could!” And she pulled him in by the shoulders and planted one of the biggest, most dramatic kisses Link had ever seen on the hero’s lips.
“You kissed me!” the hero managed to choke out. “After all this time, you finally kissed me!”
“Well excuuuuse me, Link!” the princess laughed.
“Wow. That’s … really annoying, isn’t it?”
“It is. It really, really is. Luckily I know a good way to shut you up.” And she kissed him again.
Link was happy for them, but the wistful look on his princess’s face sent a stab of guilt right through him. Big, showy displays were definitely more the other hero’s style, but once they returned to the castle, Link planned to make it up to her.
Galentine’s Day was over, and they made their way back home to the castle. Zelda said goodbye to her cousin, and Link shared a firm handshake with the hero.
“Don’t leave her hanging for too long,” he said, before they departed for their kingdom.
But despite everything he had overheard the day before, Link still felt too shy to simply show up on the princess’s doorstep, heart in hand. But as he watched Terrako caper about the princess’s feet, he had an idea.
A morning in the fields, redolent with the scent of early spring flowers, yielded a bouquet of 15 Silent Princesses. And a quick stop before they left Gerudo Town meant Link had all the wildberries he needed to make Zelda’s favorite flavor of fruit cake. He then easily recruited Terrako to his side with the promise of the gifts brightening the princess’s day.
On the way up to her room from the kitchens, Link rehearsed what he would say. Very few people in the kingdom had ever heard his voice. It wasn’t that he couldn’t talk, but more that he just … didn’t. Being one of the youngest soldiers to join the ranks of the Hyrulean army meant his voice made him stand out from the ranks even more than his size did. Then, as he got swept up into the princess’s company, his opinions and comments seemed inadequate against those of such illustrious minds as Zelda’s, Impa’s or Purah’s.
So he simply stayed silent, performing his duties as needed and swinging his sword as required. Even when he pulled the Master Sword, and was named a Champion, it seemed better to let Zelda’s wisdom lead the way, or Urbosa’s experience, or Mipha’s kindness, or Daruk’s forthrightness (and not give Revali’s acerbity any ammunition).
But Zelda didn’t know that the only reason the Master Sword awoke to him was his desperate wish to keep her safe above all else, that the only reason he did anything he did was for her. Because he'd never told her. And so here he was at her door, sweaty palm clasped around a rapidly wilting bouquet of flowers, fruit cake balanced on a shaky hand. Terrako, unusually wise for a Guardian, helpfully reached out a claw and tapped on her door.
“Oh! Link! And Terrako!” Zelda paused, taking in the flowers and the cake. “Are those for me?”
All of Link’s carefully rehearsed lines flew out of his head the moment he saw her. He was too out of practice in conversation, and he struggled mightily against the desire to simply thrust the cake and flowers at her and then flee from her tower and back into the castle. Instead he called on his courage, and stood his ground.
“Um. Hi,” he said. Zelda’s mouth fell open. Was this the first time he’d ever really said anything to her?
“Terrako wanted to …” Link paused, and looked down at the little Guardian, who only looked back at him, its single blue eye swirling gently in encouragement. “No. I wanted to give these to you.”
“I was hoping maybe … maybe we could talk?”
He finally lifted his head to meet her eyes, and relief coursed through him at the look on her face. She welcomed him into her room, her smile as bright as the sun.