Chapter Text
Zelda had rarely been bold.
Stubborn? Of course. Determined? Absolutely. But bold? Not so much.
Which is why she never expected to wake up in a cheap bed in a tavern halfway across Hyrule Field next to a strange man she’d only met the night before with all their clothes scattered along the wood floor. She especially didn’t expect to be comfortable in his arms and not rushing to get out before anyone could see her awkward walk back towards the stables with hair that was too messy and clothes that were too wrinkled.
She was nervous that this man would wake up and regret their night together, or worse… recognize who she really was in the light of day.
She’d like to blame it on the drinks they’d shared in the tavern below the inn at the stables, but in truth, she’d barely had enough to feel a buzz, and it had been hours before they’d gone to her rented room.
No, she had a strong feeling that her sudden boldness was coming from a place that longed for the freedom that was about to be taken away from her the next day. She wanted to do one final rebellious act before resigning herself to having a permanent guard (who was notorious for his unrelenting serious nature and borderline awkward silence), forced into constant prayer (worse even than she was now), allowed to do little to no research (which was her pride and joy in life), and more time being locked in her room because it was too dangerous elsewhere.
One more day until she was trapped in a life that she never wanted.
She was the Princess of Hyrule, and here she was sneaking around the outskirts of Hyrule Field, longing for an escape that she’d never be allowed again after tomorrow. Running away had been her first thought, but with the portended return of the Calamity, she knew she couldn’t shirk her duties that much. She at least had to keep trying to unlock her powers until the very last moment, if need be. Hopefully, sooner.
She’d planned it all and yet nothing had gone the way she’d expected except the beginnings of her adventure: her closest maid knew that she was going to run away for one night only, to find a sense of freedom before she was trapped. Her maid would cover for her, and she’d return the next day, and all would be well before the dreaded meeting would take place.
Zelda wasn’t concerned about showing her face freely at the inn. For years, she’d either been out of the public eye, deep in prayer, or quite literally veiled and sheltered from untoward influences—because the Hylian Priests claimed that wearing a veil made her pure enough for the Goddess’ power to awaken. Whatever the ridiculous reason was, she was glad of it now. It allowed her this rogue act of freedom.
Typically, she simply didn’t go out in public, only familiar to those who lived or worked in the castle. There was a slim chance any of them would be permitted out this far from their post, and if they were, even they might not be able to tell if it was really her.
Because, of course, it wasn’t usually her out there. Her trusted body double stepped into most public events where Zelda’s voice wasn’t required. It had become a part of their routine since the attacks on Zelda’s life grew more frequent.
So, the number of people who would recognize her face was limited only to her most inner of circles. Freely exposed as she was actually provided her more cover. The princess without her veil? The princess without her escort? The princess this far from the castle?
Well, it must be someone else then.
It had been the perfect storm of circumstances that allowed her to be in her rented room for the night with a young man who didn’t seem to sense her charade, despite her bringing him into her world as part of an act that she knew had the potential to go very, very wrong if she wasn’t careful.
It had hardly been her fault, though. He’d practically charmed his way into her bed.
Well, no, that was giving him too much credit. From what Zelda could tell, it was a natural charm coupled with heroic timing. He got too tongue tied in her presence, and he’d had too much initial hesitance to pursue anything more than a casually dropped flirt for her to believe he’d put on any charm with the intention of ending up in bed beside her after getting to know her more…intimately.
It started at her meal prior to sunset the day before Zelda’s admittedly pleasant wake up call.
Zelda checked into the adjoining inn above the tavern and was enjoying simply taking in the fresh air and not the perfumed halls that made the castle have its own unique, occasionally unbreathable aroma.
The crowded room was packed with energetic people, and lively with jovial music from fiddles and accordions that Zelda swayed to, unlike the slow—beautiful, but slow—string instruments that sometimes hummed in the background of court sessions. These strings were fast, asking to be kept up with. Begging to be danced to.
She’d ordered a drink, unsure what it was. She was accustomed to wine, but she let the barmaid decide for her, asking for something cheap. Her pallet had been finely tuned for years, and she wanted to taste something that wasn’t reserved for royalty.
It was disgusting, but she sipped it slowly, hoping to acclimate herself to the taste while she watched a couple spin each other around before stumbling away from the tables to get another drink at the bar, stepping and clapping in tune with the beat as they did. She minded her own business, enjoying the simplicity. Enjoying the freedom. Enjoying—
“Hey gorgeous; you here alone?”
She made a face and turned to see a man from the next table over leaning far too close to her. She angled her chair away so he couldn’t reach her without falling. From his inability to keep eye contact, swaying, and disgustingly foul breath, she had high hopes that if he reached for her, he’d simply fall on his face.
Zelda was a public figure. She was not unaccustomed to the occasional unwelcome comments, the stares, the objectification. She was a source of much gossip already, and rarely did any of it shine brightly in her favor. Though she was new to taverns, she was not new to blatantly ignoring people when they irritated her.
So, she did. And he kept staring.
Goddess, she’s just here to get away for her last day, not to deal with this. She turned to him sharply. “What?”
“You here alone?” he asked again.
“No. My friend is here.”
“Haven’t seen anyone.”
“Yes, well, they’ll be back any moment.”
“I can keep you company while you wait.”
Zelda shuddered, taking a sip from her drink. “I have a keen feeling I’d prefer my own company to yours.”
“What a bitch. You should’ve been grateful for my attention.”
He sat back and Zelda grinned. Well, he wasn’t talking to her anymore, at least. She slid a chair over to keep one between them and returned her attention to the stage. But the music sounded flat in her ears now; instead, they were ringing with the conversations the drunk table next to her, voices led by that man.
They ranged from offended remarks, to lewd compliments: ones that are only polite in a drunk mind, or only given with poor intentions.
She’d made the barmaid aware of their persistence and noticed her and the other staff checking in on her, so she didn’t feel unsafe, just uncomfortable. Because they ordered another round of drinks, grew louder as they spread their attention to her and the surrounding tables and began their barrage of words again.
Zelda’s breathing sped up for a moment at the stark realization that she was here without a guard. Back home, she could say whatever she wanted to shut unwanted attention down, but out here, she’d chosen to go it entirely alone.
And taverns had a much higher tolerance for poor behavior from its paying customers than royal balls with drunk noblemen surrounded by half an army did.
Zelda dropped her head in her hand and took another sip of her drink, hoping that the music would eventually drown them out.
It didn’t.
And it didn’t drown out the new voice that joined.
“There you are!”
Zelda’s heart leapt out of her chest, ready to bolt out the door at the notion of being caught here. But standing beside her was an unfamiliar man with messy, long blonde hair tied back in a horrible ponytail that hardly did any good, staring at her with bright, cerulean blue eyes. He held a sword in his hand, the hilt of it wrapped in parchment and twine, almost as if it were newly purchased, save for the exposed blade. But he held it away from her, not a threat, just a possession, like many others in the tavern carried. He wore a layer of visible chainmail under a quarter sleeved shirt, a style of mail that was particular to the Knights of Hyrule.
Zelda made a face, unsure if she was resigned to being caught, or grateful just to get away.
The drunk man at the table glared at her at this stranger’s approach. The knight seemed to notice and took a deliberate step to the side to block her view from the unruly group. Still loudly, he spoke only to Zelda. “I nearly thought you forgot we were going to meet. I mean, wait, that was tonight, right? Not Tuesday?”
His eyes shone with a hidden question that she caught clearly: do you need help, or want me to leave?
And her body responded in a way that clearly her mind couldn’t decide for her. She sagged in relief that he hadn’t figured out who she was. Or, he hadn’t let on, anyway. He wasn’t announcing her title and dragging her off.
Honestly, it would be a relief to spend her only free night not listening to that group. Maybe this would shut them up, especially since this stranger had miraculously lined up with her own faked story about a friend. So she nodded to the knight. She had a bit of inherent trust for him just on principle since she’d grown up surrounded by the Knights of Hyrule. Perhaps that wasn’t the best reason ever had, but it settled her nerved for now.
“Yes, that was tonight! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you at your table. Would you like to sit here? Or is there a spot elsewhere that you were sitting?”
“There’s a spot,” he said with a polite nod, pulling her chair out for her and leading her to another table with his things still there. He went to sit in his chair, but he stopped and moved around to the other side of the table, changing seats.
Zelda turned to see what reason he might have had.
He took the seat facing the glares of the group, letting Zelda’s back be to them.
“My hero,” she whispered with a grin, finally sitting.
Perhaps it was in their training to look intimidating when they wanted to, because he looked over her shoulder at something that was going on. There was something about him was radiating an energy that even had Zelda glancing nervously at his sword. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him before, but she didn’t think he looked quite so fierce when he’d stood beside her table. He narrowed his eyes just enough, and the rowdy table went silent.
And just like that, he turned his attention back to her, his eyes soft and wide and blue and she couldn’t find an intimidating feature about him, especially once a polite smile started to spread along his mouth in a subtle greeting.
“I can leave you alone in a few minutes,” he said to her. “It just looked like they were bothering you. Well, sounded it, anyway. I couldn’t stand hearing them run their mouths. I hope it wasn’t impertinent of me.”
And in that moment, Zelda felt a weight lift off her chest. She was safe. This wasn’t a knight sent from her father to bring her back home, this wasn’t him getting her away so he could call her Princess and let her know she was being watched for her protection. This was just a soldier in her kingdom being a decent human. One who was willing to leave her alone. No knight who knew she was the princess would dare to leave her alone in a tavern if they wanted to keep their life.
“They were. And you were hardly impertinent; you gave me a clear opportunity to decline your help. So thank you.”
The young man—about her age or maybe slightly older since the average soldier didn’t start their careers out as Knights— carefully set his sword down within reach beside him and waved over the barmaid to let her know Zelda had moved, before paying for Zelda’s replacement drink as an apology for the behavior she’d had to endure. Zelda hadn’t even had the chance to stop him before the rupees were out.
“Mind if I sit with something for a few minutes, or do you want me to make my excuses?”
Zelda smiled and gestured to the chair he was already in as her invitation to stay. He was cute. Charming, even, in his polite insistence that he could leave. Physically attractive too, but she tried not to focus too much on the details so she wouldn’t feel the fluttery nerves of a crush on a stranger she was actually spending more than a passing moment with.
Once he’d ordered a drink, he discretely held out his hand to shake hers.
“Sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself. Link.”
“Zelda,” she’d responded, taking his hand. But she was too quick, and cursed herself for not using a fake name. Gratefully, there were likely at least three ‘Zeldas’ in this room alone thanks to the popularity of it, and no alarms seemed to go off in his mind, because he smiled and sat back comfortably, casually turning to watch the musicians with too much intent.
Link didn’t want to bother her.
Zelda would have thought him completely disinterested in her company if he didn’t keep glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and fix his messy ponytail and roll his shoulder so he could look at her without seeming obvious.
Maybe her crush on an attractive stranger was mutual.
Or maybe the soldier hurt his arm and she was being selfish.
Zelda glanced around the room, still unfamiliar with most of the intricacies of a place like this. There was a clearly defined group of people who wandered around with trays of food and drink in their hands, much like the servants of the palace did. They were far less formal and uptight than she was used to seeing, but it was refreshing in many ways. One brought Link and Zelda their drinks: some foaming drink, and a cheap, watered-down wine that Zelda nursed while she looked at the other patrons.
A young woman was checking in with the owner; he was scratching his head in confusion while explaining something, gesturing around in the process. The men at another table beside her had just been given their third fill of alcohol, though Zelda didn’t know enough to recognize it on sight unless it were wine, and it wasn’t. She couldn’t figure what most of the drinks were aside from her own. And she would never blow her cover by asking Link such a simple question as to know what he was drinking when it was likely obvious, given how many were drinking the same thing. The woman playing the fiddle on the stage tapped her foot to the beat, and Zelda longed to know whether it was conscious or subconscious.
These were her people. Full of life, or sickeningly drunk, whether polite or rude…these were the ones who would die if she failed to unlock her power to seal the Calamity.
The thought made her sick. Even here, she couldn’t escape the pressure of duty.
She took a drink.
“Are you alright?”
She looked over at Link, almost forgetting he was here. “Yes, sorry. I’m just… lost in thought.”
Hesitating, he went to turn his attention back to the music before letting out a breath and turning to her instead. “I’m an ear, if you need one. Strangers are the easiest people to talk to. Once you know you have to see someone again and again, there becomes this pressure to say all the right things. But with a stranger, you can say anything, and they’ll never know you any better.”
Zelda felt a smile tug at her lips. “I like that. In that case, I’ll take you up on it. I’m under a lot of pressure at home. I mean… life-changing levels of pressure. And I ran away for the night just to be able to escape it for a moment. But I still can’t because it’s always nagging at me. And I just wanted to enjoy an escape, but my mind won’t let me.”
Link nodded as she spoke, taking a sip of his drink before playing with the handle. “Believe it or not, I understand. I’m in a similar dilemma. In a few days, my entire life is going to be different from what I’ve always known, and I’m not sure I’m ready for it yet.”
“Is it a wedding? Those are… big deals,” Zelda mused, though still a little curious to hear his answer. Was she here crushing on a married man who was simply generous?
He laughed. It was low and awkward and nervous, and Zelda wanted to hear it again. “No, I’m not in a relationship. Well, maybe I am with my job. But that’s all. You? Is a wedding causing you your stress?”
She blushed at this game, these poorly hidden questions. Even if they went about it a bit inelegantly, she was glad he seemed about as good at this as she was, which admittedly was pretty bad. She felt, for the first time ever, that she was on an even playing field with someone, and it made her more comfortable than she could ever have imagined.
She crinkled her nose and made a face, shaking her head. “Hardly. I’m kept much too busy for that.”
He nodded, his eyes glistening a bit at her answer. Needless to say, Zelda was more than a little happy to hear that this stranger was single. It made her feel less guilty for having already developed a little crush. And she was less hesitant to admit that he was certainly attractive by conventional standards, but there was something about him that seemed to be a particular taste level that made Zelda feel unique in her draw to him. Something about him was particularly wild. Or maybe it was just the poorly tied, messy hair.
“You’re married to your job, then? What is it?” Zelda asked once she realized she’d simply been ogling him for several seconds. A simple question to keep the conversation from dying. She knew he was a knight just from his armor alone.
His smile faltered and he hesitated again. “It’s, um, I’m a soldier. I’m… specially trained. So, I don’t usually get a rest. And you? What keeps you busy?”
Not a brag, it seems. Being a Knight of Hyrule required talent and skill, and he didn’t use it on her as if to impress her, as some other Knights had done at parties and balls while too drunk to keep from embarrassing themselves.
She ran her finger along the rim of her glass. “Research. I research whatever I can to try to… guide me in the right direction, I suppose. Well, it’s not the whole truth of what I do; that’s just putting it very simply.”
He shrugged. “I’m a simple man: I accept whatever you’re willing to offer to share. I think everyone’s entitled to a few secrets, even when others try to pry them away.”
“I wish I had that luxury.”
“I honestly don’t have it either, but I still believe people are entitled to it.”
“Are we just martyrs, then?” she laughed, taking another sip. “We give ourselves up so others don’t have to share our fate.”
He chuckled along and raised his glass to hers. “Glad to have met a fellow soul.”
She clinked hers against his and took a sip.
Link nodded at her near-empty drink. “Want another? On me.”
“Thank you, but no. Once I get warm, I stop. I’m always cold, so if I feel warm, I know it’s the last drink.”
“You’re warm now, I take it?”
“A bit.” Zelda blushed. Wine? Tipsy? Present company? She wasn’t sure what had made the room so warm so quickly.
“Do you need to get some air?” Link asked.
Zelda looked around before nodding. “Yeah. That sounds good, I think.”
She stood up and began walking towards the door when she realized she was alone. She turned back to Link expectantly. He’d been watching her leave, but when she stopped, he almost looked confused.
Zelda pointed to the door. “Aren’t you coming?”
Link nervously stood, pushing the chair too far back, stumbling in his haste. “Do you want me to? I didn’t want to impose. Or, I didn’t know if you needed time to yourself and I was overstaying my welcome.”
Zelda grinned. Goddess, he was cute. “You’re good company, Link, but I’ll part with you if you’ve somewhere else to be. Or if I’ve overstayed.”
Link hurried around the chair and fished another rupee from his pocket. “No! Goddess, no. Let me just settle up from my drink earlier.”
She waited by the door and stared out into Hyrule Field as she thought about her future.
Thousands of small moments were about to be stolen from her, moments like talking to a stranger in the night. No, now she’d be watched every second of every day. A permanent guard meant the loss of her freedom—what little she had, anyway—and meant that she’d never meet another stranger in a bar, or sneak out for a final adventure. She’d be thrown into the depths of the Goddess Springs while someone held her down until her powers emerged, because that’s all that was left to do. She’d tried it all. There was little else. That was what made her a failure.
But here? She could see the sky unobstructed by towers or the shine of the Guardians at work. She could see it all, all the possibilities that lay out in the fields, and the lakes. There was an openness, and she was about to be caged.
“You alright?” Link asked again, leaning beside her.
“Just thinking about how things will be soon. It’s not a pretty look.”
“Expectations,” he scoffed.
She smiled at him. “I know.”
Zelda pointed to a spot overlooking the water. It was a ledge with a decent drop, but the skyline was almost too amazing to pass up. With the waning of the sun, the orange glow cast a perfect outline of the palace and Castle Town.
“Beautiful,” Link said, echoing her thoughts. He toyed with the long sword that he’d tied to his belt. “Reminds me that there’s something worth fighting for.”
“The Castle does? Or the sky?” she teased.
He smirked in her direction. “All of it reminds me. I see a lot of death with my job, and just taking a second to look at everything puts some things into perspective.”
“When you live there, it’s easy to forget.”
Link turned to her. “You live there, then?”
Zelda closed her eyes, regretting how quick she was to answer yet again. For someone who did a lot of introspection and had worked a great deal on self-control, she couldn’t understand how she’d twice managed to let an important detail slip like that.
“Yes,” she said, recovering as quickly as she could. “I live in Castle Town.”
Not a lie, per se.
“I’m from Hateno, and you don’t get these sights out there. None with the castle, anyway.”
“Hateno?” Zelda said curiously, looking around herself, trying to get a distinct orientation. “What in Hyrule are you doing out here in the outskirts of Western Hyrule Field, then?”
Link sat down in the grass. “I was stationed out at the garrison in the Maritta Exchange. There have been some issues in the nearby plains with bokoblins, moblins. Not to mention a few Yiga have been terrorizing that area.”
“Not at the Tech Lab though, right?”
His face lit up. “You know the area well?”
Oh, shut up, Zelda.
“I know people in the lab. I’ve visited a few times.”
“Researcher; I should have figured that one out. Of course you’d know people there. But no. Nothing directly threatening the lab. There’s always a risk with Yiga, but that lab is a booby trap. Even the Yiga would be hard pressed to get in there with all that Sheikah tech protecting everyone.”
Zelda shuddered at the thought of the Yiga, especially when they were so close to Purah and Robbie. “Where are you headed? Isn’t it more important to fight the Yiga out there?”
“Well, Carok Bridge is out; no travel over it for now, so I was making my way around to the Hyrule Garrison when I stopped here to eat.”
“Carok Bridge is out? Again?”
Link grinned. “You know my turf well. Have we met?”
“I’d absolutely remember you,” she said quickly. Again, too quickly.
But he eased her nerves when he nodded and red crept up his neck. “Yeah, same to you.”
And with that, they were both blushing.
Link cleared his throat and shrugged, recovering first. “I just do as I’m told. If they tell me something’s wrong with the bridge, I go around.”
“Well, I—”
Zelda was interrupted by the familiar drunk laughter of the group from earlier. They made their way outside, taking their drinks, seemingly oblivious to the two of them.
Until one called out to her.
“Hey, pretty lady! Wanna join us?”
Rolling her eyes, she glanced uncertainly at Link.
With him around, her instincts kicked in, years of training and careful safety conditioning.
Her father’s instructions came back to her. “In matters of safety, you defer to your guards, Zelda. You never know what’s out there, be it Yiga, or someone ill-will towards you. The guards know best how to handle these situations.”
The man whistled.
Zelda scoffed and turned fully to Link. “Do I ignore them? Or just say no?”
He looked at her curiously before shaking his head. “I doubt they remember what the word ‘no’ means anyway,” Link whispered, checking over his shoulder to see what they were all doing.
“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you!” the drunk man called again, staggering over.
Twitching, Zelda looked at Link again. His hand was on his sword, watching, but not moving.
“I don’t know what to say!” She pushed her hair away and tried to sound firm. “No thank you!”
Wrong answer.
“You’re gonna, gonna, be gonna be that rude to a gentleman like me? That’s dis-s-ss-srespectful”
Zelda honestly thought he drunk man was about to throw up, but he kept walking. Or, staggering.
Link looked back at Zelda. “Mind if I—?”
“Oh, be my guest. I don’t want them near me.”
He stood and finally grabbed his sword, spinning it around with a casual ease and fluidity that none in the group could have hoped to manage in their current state. And then he stabbed the blade into the dirt in front of him before leaning against the hilt.
He didn’t have to say anything, simply stand there with the challenging look in his eyes. One that basically screamed his readiness to fight them all off, and with the weapon that he had, and their current inebriation, it would be easy.
The group backed up and the one specific man rejoined his friends as they headed down the trail.
Link sat back down, keeping his eyes over his shoulder for a few moments before looking at Zelda as she let out a long breath.
“Thank you. I’m not used to that kind of confrontation. They’re insistent. I didn’t know if they’d leave after a conversation. I don’t do this a lot.”
“Because you’re a noble?”
Zelda froze. Of course she’d been found out. There was nothing about her that screamed ‘worldly’. She must have reeked of some sort of wealthy privilege.
“It’s the accent,” he elaborated. “Well, the accent is a pretty solid indicator. But you have a few details in your story that seemed off. And that? If you live in Castle Town, you’d deal with drunken fools like them often. You wouldn’t need me.”
She finally managed to make her brain work again.
There was no point lying, but if there was one thing Zelda was good at—when she paid enough attention to her words— was convincing people of things. Hopefully, he’d stop at’ noble’ and never get to ‘Princess of Hyrule.’
“Goddess, I’ve been foolish. I’m from a prominent family, and there’d be shame and scandal if it were found out that I’m here. This was the stupidest thing I’ve ever tried to accomplish. No wonder you saw through it easily.”
Link shook his head dismissively. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. And your secret is safe with me. You have my word, for what it’s worth. But if you ever sneak out again, you should work on that accent. And maybe don’t stare at beer with quite so much confusion, too.”
Pushing more hair from her face that kept falling each time she looked down, she played absently with a strand.
“I’ve had ale. But the color was different, I didn’t know what you were drinking.”
He smiled and nodded. “I could tell. I would have offered you to try some, if you’d wanted.”
“You’d share a drink with a stranger?” she asked, unafraid to ask a more uppity unaware question with that much of her cover blown. Or, she assumed from the casual way he would have shared his glass that her thinking was uppity, at the very least.
Link scoffed. “Please. I’m hardly afraid of swapping a little spit if you aren’t.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “That… that didn’t sound the way I’d meant it… to sound.”
Zelda bit her lip and fought back laughter. She was sheltered, and undeniably lacked worldliness, but she was hardly that naïve.
“No, I don’t think you did. But there are only a few things in this world that frighten me, and ‘a little spit’ is not one of them.”
He choked and started to cough. “Just some spit, sorry,” he said before groaning. “Goddess, help me stop talking about spit.”
She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped that time. “Don’t worry, Link. We all have some,” and she put her hand on his knee.
Familiar. That’s how it felt.
Zelda wasn’t usually a casual flirt, especially not with men she’d just met. But he made it easy. There was just something about him that made her feel at ease. She lifted her hand off his pants before nervously laughing. “Sorry.”
She was concerned she’d broken him. He stared intently at his knee long after she’d moved her hand. She’d hate to see him shut down on her when she was enjoying his company. “I’m sorry,” she said again, gesturing to his leg. “I- I didn’t meant to make you uncomfortable. It was such a natural reaction; I’ll have to watch myself in the future.”
“No,” he said, finally snapping out of it. “No, you can touch me however you like.”
For a moment, he paused, but he quickly stood up and walked away, running his hands over his face. “Fuck the Goddess above and let me die before I say another embarrassingly moronic thing around you.” He spun to face her. “I didn’t intend for it to sound like that either.”
“I figured,” Zelda laughed, standing up and crossing the gap he’d created. “Are you always so articulate, or do I make you nervous?”
“I- I don’t… I don’t know what you…” he sighed, relenting. “Yes, you do, a bit. And they’d be good nerves if only they wouldn’t make me a fool.”
She stood just away from being nose-to-nose with him and shook her head. “I don’t think you’re a fool. Far from it.”
She licked her lips and leaned closer to him.
And pushed a strand of his unruly hair aside, grazing his skin lightly as she did before moving away from him.
She could hear Link let out a harsh breath and turned to give him a mischievous smile that she teased him with.
Link was an open book. His face was a clear indicator of his emotions. If not his face, it was clear in his eyes as he processed it all. From stress and nerves and a pinched brow, to a spreading grin as he shoved his hands into his pockets and followed her.
“So,” Zelda started, relaxing as she walked away from the setting sun, “You’re observant, aren’t you? More than most.”
He ran a hand through his hair and returned his hand to his pocket. “Yeah, it’s part of my job. I… watch out for people. I’m specially trained, I guess. I… my job… I have to protect important people, and that means feeling out lies of anyone who’s trying to get close.”
“That sounds like you have a few stories.”
“I do. But not really about that. I’ve done a bit, but my biggest job is coming up. So. Yeah. I did once find a Yiga who was trying to sell me a bug.”
“A bug?”
“A bug.”
“I’d have bought the lie,” Zelda teased. “All those bug merchants around? A totally believable lie.”
Link laughed, light, airy, entrancing, like it wasn’t used often enough. “You’d be surprised, My Lady.”
“Oh yes, joke about me not finding the nearest bug merchant. Of course, if I wanted a bug, I’d simply go get one myself rather than pay for it. That’s half the fun.”
“You catch your own bugs and everything? Wow. You’re my dream woman.”
Zelda felt her face flush and peeked out the corner of her eye at him. Thankfully, he appeared just as red.
Brave. Be brave, Zelda.
Her hand reached out and tentatively took his, pulling him along with her. “How do you feel about frogs?”
And that was what led to several hours’ worth of conversation. Silly stories, hardships, it didn’t matter. If there was a conversation to be had, they found it.
They’d gone outside at sunset, but the moon had long since risen, and the night air grew colder. Fires and torches kept the outside lit and warm enough for them to take a stroll several times, to sit alone by the fire, to lean against the nearest tree and talk while trying to reach branches that were just out of reach.
Through their time together, they’d moved from shy, tentative touches: a brush on the back of one’s hand in a pretense of walking just a bit too closely, or a hand on the leg or arm while laughing at a joke. Then, Link was brushing the hair from her face, not careful in where his hand caressed her skin as she’d done earlier. Zelda had taken his hand when they’d gotten up to walk a bit, and when they’d taken a short break by the fire to warm up, she’d swallowed her nerves and leaned against him, feeling an immense relief when he relaxed and wrapped his arm around her.
It was like every touch broke down a barrier that Zelda didn’t know was there to begin with.
She’d never been naturally social. Introverted by nature and nurture, she preferred the solitude of restricted research and the company of a good book. In her various courtships, she’d never made the first move. Oddly, it was her father who often did for her, devising a courtship that could become a good match in the future. The few times she’d courted someone not chosen by her father, the other had been the first to act. Where was that wall as she eagerly grabbed Link’s arm just so she could hold more of him while they walked under the moonlight again.
The world was dangerous. Yiga were everywhere. Strangers were dangerous. Friends were traitors. She’d been taught this. Safety had always been her expected priority, because without her, the world would simply die. Where was that caution as she walked the dimly lit path with a man she’d met only hours ago?
Finding it too easy to talk to this perfect stranger, Zelda started telling stories about her life—with details carefully excluded— that ranged from her governess that she’d scared off when she was a child, and her favorite that stuck with her and became a second mother, to the bees she used to chase and how she’d end up covered in welts before stupidly doing it again.
She told him about her mother’s death and how it had wrecked her, but how she’d been so afraid to let it show. She’d felt she needed to be strong for her father. For everyone. But no one had been strong for her.
And he’d taken her hand and told her about a time he thought he’d lost his father in a battle, a rockslide separating them. He’d screamed and pulled at rocks until his hands bled, and had never stopped blaming himself for not saving his father, only for another team to have found him alive days later, but too injured to ever fight at his perfect skill level ever again.
Zelda could find a cure for that, one day. If his father was unable to fight due to a bone or a muscle, or perhaps a damaged nerve, she was sure that she’d be able to come up with a device to aid in hand function and that the key to it had to be in the mechanisms of a Guardian’s leg, which controlled each sharp claw individually.
“… but of course, if I somehow managed to sneak into the lab, I’d still likely need weeks of research that I cannot do without their equipment. Unless… Unless I ran a EGE test with some of the herbs I have in storage. If I can manage to use a paste created with taraxacum erythrospermum and zingiber officinale with some of the last brew of antitoxin I created, then I might be able to get some of the fluid to coagulate just enough that I can get a sample. And if I can get that to the lab. And if the results are what I think they’d be, then I can start the process of understanding motor function for individual appendages specific to your fathers condition. Of course, if it’s not what I think, then I’d have to… but once it’s going we could start a whole project devoted to—” Zelda stopped and took a breath. “Sorry. I’m going on and on.”
Link shook his head, watching her with a smile. “Don’t be. I like hearing you get excited about this. Passion is something to be proud of. And you left out what would happen if that test wasn’t what you’d think.”
“Oh! Right! So, first off, if I can’t acquire the necessary tools, it’s game over, but if I can and the test is negative or inconclusive after several attempts, then it’s back to square one, which would mean…”
Time passed in odd ways. To Link and Zelda, it felt like they’d talked for days or weeks. And while Link was more than happy to just listen to her, Zelda wanted to know more about him. By the time they’d made a wide circle around the tavern, Zelda could list all the garrison’s he’d been stationed at in Hyrule, and where he hid letters from his family when he was away. How close he was with his uncle. They sat by the fire, and she admitted to her occasional tantum, which sometimes involved running away but mostly involved prolonged periods of objectionable silence.
He was unsurprised to learn that her favorite book was an incredibly large tomb called Hyrule Historia, only found in the best libraries these days. Her second favorite, she admitted, was a romance novel that her maid had dropped once, and Zelda had borrowed it only to buy her own, now-worn copy. He knew that she’d once hidden several stolen books in a crawl space so she could read them in the dim candlelight at night and then return them as soon as she’d finished.
Link’s friends had been close with him growing up, and he’d become particular friends with several Zora children he’d lived with for a time. His first kiss had been with his cousin’s cousin who’d been over to visit. And though there was no blood relation, he still cringed when he told the story which he refuses to tell anyone other than Zelda.
Zelda’s first kiss had been nothing short than a great experiment. Despite her title, Zelda had been kissed many times. When she was younger and curious about the concept, she’d enlisted at least three participants to help her figure out what it meant. It could have been upwards of five, but now, she couldn’t remember if the other two had agreed to help. Ever the scholar, she’d compared them, asked them questions, written notes, and then left them without a hint of feelings gained.
Link looked on longingly, but Zelda missed it as she was engrossed in both their stories.
They’d talked about morality, mortality, fate, destiny, choice.
They soaked it in like a sponge as the other spoke. Because never, never had Zelda found it so easy to speak to someone else.
He was attentive, asking questions, encouraging her to elaborate, wanting to know more. She was hard pressed to find anyone who knew the ‘real’ Princess Zelda who didn’t go on about the Goddess, and how Zelda must be this, or Zelda must be that, taking her stories from her and making them their own.
And the feeling wasn’t lost on Link either. He had friends. He had colleagues. But when he was working, which was most of the time, he rarely spoke to others, and his social skills had diminished a bit. But with Zelda, he’d managed to settle his nerves enough that he could laugh and smile without fear of repercussion. Because she didn’t expect the world of him, like everyone else did.
“You’re cold,” Link said hours into the night, noticing her goosebumps and shivers that she’d developed when they sat by the dying flames of a forgotten outdoor sitting area. “Want to go back in for wine, or I can build up the fire?”
“If you build a bigger fire, I’m sure we’ll be fined since we’re still on the tavern’s land. And I’ll fall asleep on you.”
He nudged her. Their arms were flush with each other, in her personal space with wholehearted permission. “Nothing wrong with that.”
She smirked at him. “Except that I already paid for my room hours ago.” She made a face at the sky. It had to be… six hours since meeting Link. Maybe more. Yet it felt ages longer.
Turning to him, she grabbed his hand. “Get a room for the night and we can get breakfast in the morning. You don’t need to ride to the garrison in the middle of the night. That way, we don’t have to say goodbye tonight.”
“I’m dreading that inevitability,” he admitted, taking her hand more comfortably in his. “Zelda, I wish, so badly, that something more could come out of this. But you know I can’t.”
“I know. Me too.”
She was a noble with a position at court, a prominent family, and a reputation that wasn’t to be tarnished. That was something she made clear as soon as she started to feel those butterflies she’d tried to stave off. And he’d understood.
He was going on a permanent assignment that would keep him from a personal life. And the inescapability of his inevitable mission could end in his death. He’d told her that much. And she’d understood.
Link never even intended to find another person in the world who interested him. He’d been perfectly content with his youthful fun, and after today, he was prepared to put all of his other potential futures aside: his job was too important now.
But there was a kink in his armor, and as she looked over at him with pleading eyes, that crack grew. “Okay, let’s see if there’s anything available.”