Chapter Text

Day 1

With quick steps, Zelda fled the stream of warm air rushing out from the store entrance to keep the harsh winter day outside. She was about to smooth her hair out when her eyes lingered on the items on the shelves. Whoa. So much pastel.

"Can I help you with something, Madame? Are you looking for yourself or someone else?" A sugary smile attached to a middle-aged woman greeted her.

"I… no. Not for me." Hidden in her coat pocket, she experimentally poked her index finger in her stomach. Maybe she needed to stop getting her breakfast from the small bakery with the cu—anyway. "I'm looking for something for my cousin, she is expecting her first child." And can't talk about anything else other than the perfect little family they would be, Zelda mentally rolled her eyes.

"Oh, how wonderful! Is it a boy or a girl?"

Zelda blinked. She should have anticipated that question—she could hardly tell the woman that she zoned out every time Paya talked about the pregnancy and that she had ditched the gender reveal party. "Actually… I would prefer something neutral. I'm not a big fan of gendering everything."

"Ah, yes." The woman laughed. "Beige and gray are the new trend colors anyway." Zelda followed her through the small store, carefully, to avoid bumping into the tiny wooden rattles, crocheted animals, and other stuff she couldn't even fathom the function of. They stopped in a section where the colors ranged from off-white to beige to light brown. Why not fire red? Or bright yellow? It would at least be easier to spot the baby when he or she crawls off.

"I think… the quilts over there are fine." Zelda pointed at a pile of small blankets, forcing the vendor to fold the little olive cardigan that she held up and put back again.

"Oh, a good choice! I didn't assume you wanted to spend so much money. They are hand-made."

Exactly what I need. Zelda grinned to herself and waved off. "Don't worry, I value well-crafted work." 

It was one of many things she adored about Castle Town. The tiny shops, packed with valuable goods—some Saturday afternoons she just drifted through the stores and took it all in. It had been half a coincidence that she moved into the pulsating, urban quarter during the last year of her studies, but even a few years later she didn't think she would ever get tired of it. The old tailor in the Tingle's Alley had sewed the evening gown that she wore to her parent's silver wedding and the young man with the wool and fabric store had helped her through the emergency of when she needed a set of mittens and a hat for auntie Purah's last-minute birthday invitation.

"They are made from the finest cotton and the lining is goat wool. There is no softer wool than from West Necluda's goats." The woman scrunched her nose in an attempt to look adorable. "Perfect for a baby's soft skin."

Zelda held the quilt up, fingering the fabric. "Wow. It's nearly a little too perfect for hand-made."

"Well." The vendor raised her eyebrow. "We keep an eye out for good quality. Only the best for Castle Town's smallest residents."

"Oh." Zelda laughed a little too high. "Of course. It's just… Ah, anyway, I'll take it. It's just what I was looking for."

On the way to the counter, Zelda rolled her shoulders under her coat. The warm air made the wool itch and being confronted with all these cute, tiny, perfect items for happy little families didn't help.

Her phone buzzed while the vendor wrapped a ribbon around the folded blanket. Paya.

'Zelda! Look, we got the pictures from the photographer!' The message was adorned with a bunch of heart-eyed emojis. Her phone loaded at least five pictures, but Zelda only took the time for the first.

Paya in a dream of pink lace, her husband Sidon standing behind her and holding her belly with the softest expression on his face she had ever seen.

'Can't wait to see you for the holidays, Zelly! It's been too long! Who knows how much time I'll have once the bebe is here…'

Absent-mindedly, Zelda slid her credit card through the slot, typing on her phone with her thumb.

'Just finished your gift, darling! You’ll love it. The photos are beautiful. Reserve me a seat on the couch when you take a break from Papa's political excursion!'

Patiently, the woman behind the counter held out a pastel-colored shopping bag at her. Zelda took it with a nod and managed to return her polite smile well enough.

The cold winter air that hit her heated cheeks once she left the store was a relief for more reasons than one.

Chapter Text

Day 2

"Like this?" The fairy lights knocked against the big shop window of Link's little bakery, held up with outstretched arms by his colleague Mipha. 

"Yeah…" Link crouched, raised, tilted his head to the side. "Let me look from outside. They are for the people on the street and not for us, after all."

"Sure, take your time, boss. It's not straining at all to keep them up for minutes at a time." Mipha blew a playful raspberry.

Link pointed his two index fingers at her on his way into the whirling snowflakes. "You'll think again when you see your year end bonus — everybody loves a shiny, sparkling bakery in Hylia's month!"

Through the window, Mipha poked her tongue out, but Link only gave her a thumbs up and slipped back into the warmth. The lights perfectly illuminated the wooden shelves where he stored the fresh bread in the early morning hours. 

"Ok, now the Mighty Thistles?" Mipha had already dragged the basket with the freshly cut plants towards her. The Mighty Thistles had a long tradition in Hylia's Day decoration—their thorns symbolized Hylia's and the Hero's suffering during their endless fight against evil while the fruit stood for their refusal to give up on their land and for the hope to start anew. Well, in the less poetic words of his grandmother: running on love, blood, and spite. 

Link glanced from the tin clock over the entrance towards the alley that stretched in front of his shop. They were still in that sweet hour after the people scurrying in who were too busy for a real lunch and just grabbed a sandwich, and before the first old ladies indulged in the pleasure of not caring for calories anymore and stuffing themselves with cake. "Nah," he denied Mipha's overeagerness, "let's drink a coffee as long as there is still time. I'll do that later or on the weekend."

With a shrug, Mipha kicked the basket back behind the door and climbed on a highchair at the small counter. "Well, then I'll have a coffee with milk, best boss."

"Because you have so many," Link deadpanned.

"Doesn't make it less true."

The chime of the door rang just when Link shoved the mug towards his friend. A blue-haired man poked his head in, his braids dusted in a thin layer of snow. He gave Mipha a big smile and a wink, then turned towards Link in their very own greeting ritual. 

"Idiot."

Link nodded back at him. "Bird brain."

"Revali, Link, can't you just… greet each other like normal people do?!" Mipha groaned but stood up to kiss the tiny water drops from her boyfriend's lips nonetheless.

"At least he treats you well, yes?" Revali wrapped his arm around her, moistening her dark brown apron with melted snow.

"Always." Link blew over his own coffee in mocked airiness, but he quickly lowered his gaze when Revali bumped his forehead against Mipha's.

"I just came in to tell you that we can leave directly after your shift. I changed some things so that I'm free early."

"Oh," Mipha breathed, "thank you! You have no idea how excited I'm about this trip!"

"Well, I do, that's why I make room for you. But I have to go back now. Don't let your coffee get cold. Hylia knows that's the only thing the idiot is good at."

"I wish you a nice weekend, too, bird brain."

Revali smirked, tipped his head, and after a last kiss from Mipha, he disappeared into the icy world in front of their shop window again. 

Splash!

Well. Not without doing his part on the decorations, regarding the now smashed snowball on the part of the pretzel sign over the entrance that was Link's name. Bird brain with a cursed good aim.

"I can clean that up," Mipha sighed.

"I don't mind. The sun will solve that problem tomorrow. No reason to bother." Link waved her off. "So… Skiing this weekend in Hebra?"

Immediately, Mipha's whole body straightened and she beamed brighter than the fairy lights behind her. "Yes! We have our own cabin and it's going to be super cozy and romantic!" 

"Sounds good."

Mipha's golden eyes flashed one last time before she remembered her manners. "And you? Any plans for the weekend?"

Link shrugged and pointed his thumb to the backroom. 

"Again? But the weekend has more hours than you have to work. Daruk takes over at noon on Saturday and Sunday."

"Yeah. Maybe I'll shop for some gifts or visit Nana."

"Exciting. Why don't you grab a friend and go to one of those Hylia's month parties? You'll never meet your significant other in the sheltered accommodation of your grandma."

"I don't care about the flippancy of those events."

Mipha grabbed her empty mug, disappeared in the backroom, and after the cover of the dishwasher squealed, she was back on the threshold with crossed arms. "I'll tell you what's up. You are afraid. Not everyone is a cheater like your ex, you know."

Link stared into the sip of cold coffee left at the bottom of his mug before he downed it with a grimace and met Mipha's gaze. "I just don't like to get my heart broken. That's all."

Chapter Text

Day 3

As usual, it was the heavenly smell of fresh bread that let Zelda's feet find their way into 'Link's Bakery'. It had been this way when she discovered the little bakehouse months ago, and it was the same now.

She glanced at her phone, mainly to check the time. Three messages from her father, but she would deal with that later. It was still relatively early, maybe she was lucky enough that the baker was still there. Ahem. Not that she had memorized when he usually left, this was solely based on the one time she happened to see him leaving for his apartment on the other side of the street.

She wiped the snow off her feet before she entered the bakery, and caught his blue gaze straight away, with the door still in her hand.

Her mouthed "Hi!" was rewarded with a wink, that he shot her while his current customer was gesticulating towards the shelves with loaves of bread behind him. She inhaled and her head lolled back. Nothing shot relaxation into her veins like the special mixture of smelling brewed coffee and fresh bread. The dark wood of the shelves, the hand-written tags, and the warmth that radiated from the oven in the back room added up to the bakery being one of her feel-good places in Castle Town.

"Hi." Well, and of course, the baker with the quiet voice and the bluest eyes she had ever seen played a role in that, too. Link, if the name of the bakery was any indication. "Coffee with whipped cream?"

"Yes, please." Her coffee taste was a crime and she knew it, but something about the first coffee her grandmother had served her with that knowing wink, saying "I've decided you are old enough now, don't tell your parents" stuck with her. And maybe the little quirk in Link's lips, when she ordered it the first time months ago, drew her back to the bakery, too.

"Something to eat, too? I still have… uh... wild berry cupcakes and…" he disappeared under the counter, "apple pie with cinnamon."

"I was just asked if I'm pregnant." She rolled her eyes. "So maybe no sweets today."

"Ouch." He grimaced and had the decency to hold her gaze instead of ogling her stomach. 

"Do you still have bagels? I skipped lunch because I quit work early today to get some Hylia's Day gifts from my list."

"Ah, no." His eyes flickered through the bakery. "But I can make you something else, Mipha can deal with the rest of the customers."

"It's alright, I can just—"

"I don't mind," he interrupted her. Halfway through her blush, her stupid phone buzzed again. "Sorry." She sighed and pulled it out. "My Papa always thinks his matters are so important that they require an immediate answer and—," she muttered while her finger hovered over the answer button. "I already ignored three of his messages."

"Go ahead," he said and laughed, "I don't want you to get in trouble. Coffee is ready in a second, food will take me a few minutes."

After her father had complained about the first two messages she hadn't answered and began with the third, Link nudged her a mug over the counter, and for a moment she drowned in the way his bangs fell in his eyes instead of listening to the complaints. Did he wear a chef's hat in the back room? That would look more funny than cute.

"... Are you listening, Zelda?"

Uh…

"Excuse me, Papa, I'm on the road, it's rather loud here."

He tutted. "I praise you and you don't even listen. What I meant to ask is if you can make the traditional Loftwing's nests for Hylia's Day? Since the bread you baked was so wonderful your mother and I thought that would be a walk in the park for you. It would be nice if we didn't have to drive to the bakery on top of all the preparations."

Zelda closed her eyes. No matter what she did, her parents always expected more of her.

"Well, the bread was one thing…" Most importantly, the bread had—unknown to her parents—not been made by her, but by the very baker who was currently preparing her a sandwich. "I have never tried Loftwing's nests. I think it's safer to just buy them, Papa."

His laughter boomed through the speaker. "Nonsense. They will be perfect like everything you touch with your golden hands."

"Alright… I… Let me see what I can do. No promises, though."

"Ah, no need to play it off, little bird. I knew we could count on you. Your mother will be delighted! She is always so proud of you. That's all I had, I don't want to bother you."

Too late, Zelda thought after she had ended the call. With a weary sigh, she rubbed her face, remembering at the last second not to smear her eye makeup. 

Her parents… was there such a thing as over-supportiveness? From her childhood, she remembered the other kids whose parents scolded them when they didn't achieve the role of the prima ballerina or came in second in sports. Her parents were not like this. They had always supported her and Zelda had overachieved in a lot of ways. But then, silently, support turned into well-meant, yet, excessive encouragement. And expectation. It reached a stage when they didn't listen anymore when she said, I can't do this. At some point, she was too tired to even argue with them, so she began to take advantage of Castle Town's urban scene and give their expectations a helping hand. And now it seemed like Link's bakery was in for another 'assistance'.

Dipping her spoon in the cream and licking it clean, she waited for the other customers to go and Link to come back. What was he doing, a three-course menu? 

His co-worker—Misa? Mika?—gave her a professional smile, and since no one was around, she figured, she could just as well ask her instead.

"Say, do you take preorders for Hylia's Day?"

"Yes, of course." She took a Slate from under the counter, waiting for Zelda to start.

"Oh, excellent. Well, I need Loftwing's nests. Uhm… 20 should be enough."

"Sure. You can pick them up on Hylia's Day from eight o'clock to ten. But," she said and tipped her head in the direction of the back room, "Link won't be here. Sorry."

Zelda narrowed her eyes at her. What in Hylia's name… Was… was she that obvious with her flirting?

"Oh!" Zelda startled when she forced her thoughts back to her schedule for the holidays. "Oh, I can't pick them up on Hylia's Day. I'm already with my family then and I can't…"

"Preorder them there, then."

No… that would blow everything up. She could hardly tell her family on Hylia's Day of all days that she had been only pretending to do everything herself. 

"Ah, unfortunately, the only bakery in the village has long closed and the next is an hour away. It's alright, I'll think of something. Thank you."

"Try it yourself?"

Zelda tried to decipher her expression. Was she mocking her? Or did she mean it? But… baking bread—how hard could that be? With the best recipe?

"Ok? Maybe that's a good idea. Would you give me a recipe? Your bakery products are the best."

"Oh." She gave Zelda a sweet smile. "Link doesn't give out his recipes. But on the Sheikah Net, some people have claimed to have solved the mystery."

"Oh, well, I'll take a look." 

Zelda lowered her gaze again and scraped the rest of the cream out of her cold mug. She wondered if this conversation would have been different with Link who now rushed to her with a plate of sandwiches, muttering something about bread that needed to be taken out of the oven. 

Well, she could always come back and ask him for help, couldn’t she?

Chapter Text

Day 4

"You told her the Sheikah Net tale?" Link grabbed the handle of his hand brush harder and pushed the crumbs towards the edge.

Mipha tapped the threshold twice to signal Daruk who had taken over for the evening shift that she had a load of fresh rolls for him. "Yes?" She frowned at Link when Daruk had relieved her from the baking sheet. "That's your policy: don't give out recipes but tell them to try themselves. They'll fail, come back to us and never doubt us again."

"Yeah, okay, but…" Link bit back his next words. Why did she ask Mipha and not him? Maybe she really came for the bread, but that didn't mean she had to give him bedroom eyes whenever she showed up. He couldn't shake the feeling of a missed opportunity. It would have been nice to talk a bit, even if it was just business.

"But what? Just because Barbie asks, you screw the rules?"

"B—what?!" Link nearly dropped his tool.

"The girl has written 'fake' all over her painted face, and her fancy ISHA bag."

"Mipha, you…" 

You have no idea how she lights my day up with her smile in the dark morning hours when she pushes half-asleep through the door of my store. You have no idea how adorable she can be when she yawns a 'hi' before I press a coffee with whipped cream cream in her hand. You have no idea how much I look forward to seeing her green eyes winking at me when the tiredness of waking up at night gets to me.

"Mipha, what?" She asked and mocked him by pointing a finger at him wrapped in the cloth she was using to dry some dishes. "You know that I'm right. Miss Upperclass doesn't care for a baker, anyway."

Link tossed his brush into a drawer under his workplate and snatched a broom instead. "You don't know her."

"And neither do you."

The crumbs on the floor came together to a little pile under his swipes. Of course, he knew nothing about her. He didn't even know her name. But didn't Mipha tell him two hours ago to go out and have some fun? He didn't plan on buying her a sparkling ring for Hylia's Day—a little flirting and getting to know her better was all he wanted. Why should that be wrong?

Feeling Mipha's gaze upon him, he turned around to see her twisting her dishcloth, leaning her back against the counter.

"I'm serious. Don't fall for her."

Half of the crumbs missed the dustpan caused by Link's energetic swipe.

"She is a customer. I flirt with my customers all the time, that's half of the reason the bakery is so successful, I guess."

"But you don't hand your secrets out to any of them."

"I never said I would give her the recipe. Seriously, what is this, an intervention?"

Mipha slapped the cloth twice against the oven before she grabbed one of the mobile shelvings with the prepared rolls for tomorrow and pushed it in their cooling chamber.

"I'm worried, okay?" She activated the door mechanism and the panel slid close with a smack. "I see how you look at her."

"I look at her how I want." Link jerked the ribbon of his apron loose and tossed it into the box for the laundry service. "Don't you have a boyfriend who you can scold for looking at women you don't approve of?"

"You know that I don't mean it that way. But you said that you don't want to get hurt again, and with her, you are setting yourself up for heartbreak."

Geez, he had enough of this. His day had been outstandingly good with a lot of customers and even seeing her twice. She didn't always come in a second time in the afternoon, but today she had and he hadn't missed how her eyes searched for him before she was even through the door. Why did Mipha have to ruin everything? He took his coat from the hook next to the door and slipped his arms into the sleeve, shrugging the tailored shoulders in place. Maybe he should ignore Mipha, but of all his regulars she could choose to pick on, the blonde woman had grown on him.

"Since when do false fingernails disqualify someone as dating material? You are just being mean," he said.

"Look at you, now we are suddenly talking about dating." Mipha was now stretching and folding the dough of wheat bread with too much force.

"Do that with love, you're ruining the bread," muttered Link, turning up his collar. She stopped.

"That's what I mean. You are as soft as a cinnamon roll. She is the kind of woman who gets bored when she gets what she wants. You will fall for her and she'll toy with you until she has something new."

Link stared at his friend. Since when was having a heart a crime? And why was Mipha so against her? Yes, she cared a lot about her looks, but the sparkle in her eyes when she flirted with him was genuine. 

"Enough." He grabbed his bag and marched to the door. "I don't want to hear another word of this nonsense." 

A second later, he popped his head through the door again. "Mipha? Enjoy your weekend in Hebra."

"I will." She smiled back. "See you on Monday, boss."

"Don't break your leg, I'll never find someone as competent as you for Hylia's month."

"And you don't mess with your Nana. That can end worse than a broken leg."

"True." Link laughed, closed the door, and hurried through the snow across the street to his apartment, shoving the unpleasant conversation away.

Chapter Text

Day 5 

When Zelda heard Link laugh for the first time, it was nothing short of annoying. It wasn't that his laughter was unpleasant, no it was quiet, bright, and nearly contagious. Nearly. She would have considered joining in if he wasn't laughing at her.

Maybe it had been foolish to believe that a little bit of fluttering lashes could pursuade him into helping her. Maybe she had misinterpreted his lingering gaze and teasing comments and he had not been flirting with her. Fine. But was that a reason to laugh his ass off when she shoved a printout of the Loftwing's nests recipe that she had tried over the counter and asked him where she had gone wrong?

She had followed Mila’s (Mira’s?) advice to look on the Sheikah Net right when she got home. There was still a bit of time until Hylia’s Day, but she never had a knack for baking in general, so she didn’t expect her first try to be successful. 

And what a disaster that first try had been.

Although she had followed the recipe meticulously, the stupid dough had stuck to her fingers until she had to wash it all off. So she resorted to more flour than her search results had suggested. But with more flour, the dough had been too crumbly to even think of combining it to form a braid, or even something that looked remotely like a nest.  

She hadn’t even baked the mess. 

And now Mr. Sweet- and Smartass-Baker was laughing at her for trying a recipe that had a lot of comments “Exactly like in those tiny bakeries in Castle Town! Traditional recipe!”. 

Just when he wiped a tear from his eye, she crossed her arms and huffed. Enough was enough.

“Sorry!” He squealed, but she wouldn’t let him get away with it that easily. 

“What exactly is so funny?” She leaned in, making sure that her eyes were narrowed.

“Aaaah, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—”

“Well, you have. You are being mean.”

He rubbed his face. “No, let me explain.”

“Please do.”

“I’m not laughing at you. I wouldn’t dare. But the comments under this are a gem.”

Zelda scrutinized him. “They say it’s like a traditional Loftwing’s nest.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. I don’t know what this is.” He gave her the sheet of paper back. “But it has nothing to do with what we do here. Look,” he said, still panting, and pointed at the ingredients. “They use baking powder. That’s a cake. Or whatever. But not bread.”

“Oh.” Reluctantly, Zelda looked him over. If he hadn’t been laughing at her, he was forgiven. Maybe.

“Whatever the result of this is, it won’t be close to our Loftwing Nests at all. You need yeast to make them.”

He still looked slightly guilty when he rubbed his nose—and she was not beneath taking advantage of it. “Give me yours, then?”

His nose wrinkled into adorable folds and he rubbed his palms at the sides of his apron. Then he abruptly turned to the espresso machine. Since she was still the only customer, the coffee he was putting together had to be for her. Yes. Whipped cream found its way into the mug.

"No." He placed the beverage in front of her and swallowed. "I don't give my recipes out. Professional secret."

"Ok," she sighed, "I'll just tell my parents that we won't have any this year. It's ok. I mean, it's just bread, it's not that important."

Before the silence stretched too long, another customer came in to pick up a late breakfast. Quietly, Zelda sipped her coffee. Or she tried to—under the cream, the coffee was still burning hot. Pressing the burned tip of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she considered her possibilities. She could tell her parents the truth. That would be the most honest variant, and maybe they would finally stop placing exaggerated expectations on her. But before they reached that point, they would be incredibly disappointed. 

Or she could continue to try on her own. Maybe she had more luck with another recipe and if she managed, they would have a true reason to be proud of her for once.

"Hey." Big blue eyes looked at her. The customer must have left again. "I messed this up, sorry. First I laughed and then I told you off."

"Well." She lifted her mug. "I got a free coffee out of it."

He shot her a lopsided smile. "Look, I can't give you what we normally do. But there isn't only one recipe—I can just create another one. As a gift for a regular."

Zelda stood up. "You would do that?"

Now he grinned, turned to the display, and formed a tag with his fingers. "We'll sell both this year. 'The Loftwing's nests, created for the cute blonde who is the highlight of my workday'."

Her mouth dropped. And she had doubted that he teased her before. Now he was definitely heavily flirting. Wow, okay. 

She cleared her throat.

"Zelda. The other line is too long for your small tags."

"Zelda." He let her name roll off his tongue. "Zelda's Loftwing's Nests. Sounds good to me." His smile was soft and inviting, and now he chuckled, and, oh yes, he was forgiven. "I'm Link. But I guess you figured as much, I'm not exactly subtle about it."

"Yeah, I—" She made a lame gesture towards the entrance of the bakery where the brass sign dangled in the winter wind.

"Okay, I need some time to try things out. How about you come back tomorrow and I'll let you taste what I have and give you your recipe? Same time as today."

"Wait." Zelda shook herself out of her stupor. His kindness and his flirting had somehow frozen her ability to think. "Are you serious about this? And what do you want for it?"

Shrugging, he came over to collect her empty mug. "It's a gift. I create new recipes all the time, don't overthink it."

"Oh wow. I think that's the kindest thing anybody has ever done for me."

He stopped with the mug in his hands, cocked his head, and frowned. "Not sure if that tells more about me or more about you."

"I—I don't know." 

It was vexing, his blatant honesty. She wasn't speechless very often, but but he had managed to make her go blank twice with nothing other than attention and directness.

And unlike the other days, when the image of his blue eyes found its way into her reveries, now the thoughts of their conversation accompanied her long after she left Beedle's street.

Chapter Text

Day 6

After he had given her the recipe, Link didn't see Zelda for a couple of days. On Monday, he had a day off to make up for taking Mipha's shift on Sunday, and on the next two days, she didn't show up. 

He tried not to overthink it. He was able to think of 12 reasons for her absence off the top of his head, so it had decidedly nothing to do with Mipha's point of "She gets bored when she has what she wants."

With a sigh, he slipped into his coat, telling Mipha he would shovel snow to make the shop windows accessible. The snow that had been falling since last night had finally let up, so there was no point in postponing it anymore. Thankfully, the front side of his building wasn't very broad so he was done quickly. What got him worried, however, were the icicles hanging from the eaves. He managed to bring the longest two down with the stick of his snow shovel, but the rest was just out of reach. Mipha wouldn't be of much help since she was even shorter, but maybe Daruk could…

"Need help?" A voice asked behind him, and he could hear the smug expression on Zelda's face before he had turned around fully. There she was, back straight, grinning down at him, a cloth-covered basket on her hips. Of course, she would jump at the first opportunity to rub in that she was an inch taller than him (at most!). 

"Hi." He smiled. "Do I hear an offer?"

She gave him a look, pressed the basket in his hand, and took the snow shovel. Lazily, she let the stick clatter over the icicles so that they fell—clang, clang, clang—behind her. Her heels crunched on the wet pavement and Link swallowed when he forced his gaze up from her swaying hips. 

"How was that," she teased when they exchanged the shovel and basket again. 

"You have the job," he offered dryly.

"Thanks, but I assume that a physics major is a bit overqualified." Her smile lingered a moment before she pointed at his coat. "Hm, I nearly didn't recognize you with that fine jacket."

"Ah, thank you.” He stroked the dark gray, combed wool on his front. “My grandma is a retired tailor, she made sure that I care for quality."

"I like that, too." She leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "Half of the reason why I'm a regular here."

Link leaned forward as well until they were closer than necessary and waggled his eyebrows. "And the other half?"

"Hot coffee with whipped cream."

He chuckled when the wind blew a strand of her hair in his face. "Of course. So, that's the reason you are here today?"

Sighing, she leaned back again and lifted her basket. "No… I tried your recipe."

"Oh? And?"

"Look for yourself." She pulled the cloth from the basket, revealing a handful of… coals. Or at least something very similar. Link didn't laugh this time. He remembered the hurt glint in her eyes too well to be so careless again.

"Ouch. That's not what you wanted them to look like."

"No…" She sighed deeply, covering the mess again. "This isn't going to work. I spent a lot of my free time in the last few days trying to get it right. You won't believe it, but this is the best attempt and I haven't even tried to braid yet."

Link leaned the snow shovel against the wall, checking through the window if Mipha seemed to need him. Then, he pushed his hands in his pockets. "Zelda… I know it's not my business, but why is this so important to you? Just tell your parents that you'll get them somewhere."

She shifted, making eye contact again and again. "My parents… I brought some bread the last time I visited and they thought I made it. They are always so proud when they think I've done something myself that… I didn't have the heart to correct them. And now it’s gotten out of hand."

"You think they'll be disappointed when they find out."

"It's…" She squinted her eyes shut. "It's not only the bread."

"Oh."

"Yeah. They have built up a picture of their perfect daughter and… goddess, why am I telling you all this?"

"Because you can't tell it to someone else?" He asked half-heartedly. "And—and I asked, technically."

"Anyway." Tipping her shoe in the snow absentmindedly, she peeked into the basket again. "I came to ask if you could maybe… help me to learn it?"

Link's heart rate kicked up a couple beats. She wasn't asking him out, but it was close enough for now. Mipha would kill him when she found out. 

"So, you are still determined to make them yourself so that you don't lie to your parents, this time around?"

She nodded. 

"Well," he said, "I can hardly say no then, can I?"

"You can always say no. I don't want to be a bother." 

Her eyes told another story. Pleading, they looked at him through her painted lashes, ready to tear up if he said something wrong. Out of calculus or earnestness, he couldn't tell and he hated that Mipha had planted this doubt in him. Mipha wasn't wrong—in his soft-heartedness, he often ran the risk of being taken advantage of, but what did he have to lose? A wasted hour or two, nothing more. He wouldn’t fall head over heels for Zelda just because of a baking session. 

Right? Right.

So, he asked, “What about tomorrow?”

A big smile spread on her lips. "I’ll come in after work?"

"If that's the time you came the other days in the afternoon, then yes." He mirrored the smile. 

After they had exchanged their goodbyes, he grabbed the shovel again to go back in, but he couldn’t resist looking back at her. Of course, she caught him staring when she turned for a last wink, but he didn't care because it meant she had looked back, too. Another smile danced on his lips until a customer passed and gave him a brisk greeting. Oh. Right. He was at work. He’d better get back inside, or Mipha would give him another earful.

Chapter Text

Day 7

Ever since Zelda slipped through the door of the backroom of Link’s bakery, she felt like an idiot. From the moment she stood in the middle of the room, swapping her cloak with a work coat, to tying her hair into a bun and covering it with a baker's hat, she was so lost.

She didn’t know what she had expected. Of course, Link didn’t use a simple kitchen mixer to knead his dough. On the working surface stood two impressive kneading machines and another, a giant one, was set up directly on the tiled floor. 

It was silly, it truly was, but only now it hit her, that Link maintained the bakery for his living. This room was a workspace. Nothing more, nothing less. Clean, practical surfaces, tools she couldn't fathom the function of in perfect order, and so much stainless steel. Everything seemed to be made of stainless steel.

Maybe the warmth of the shop had fooled her. It was easy to forget that even a cozy bakery, full of wood and soft light on the forefront, was a business. Hylia knew that she had spent enough money here.

At least Link tried to make it easy for her. He ignored her clumsiness, spared remarks about her silly outfit (of course he looked like he was born into the white vest and his bandana with which he covered his neat ponytail), and distracted her nervousness with a ready smile.

"Do you want to start right away?" Link asked. "I still have a thing or two to prepare for tomorrow, you can watch to get a feeling for how I work, if it's too much."

"Can you read my mind?" she laughed nervously.

"No. But your body language, yes."

"Oh." 

Goddess, this had been such a stupid idea. All of this. She should have told her parents the truth and asked him out for a date, no need to mix things up and make a fool out of herself. When they were finished here, she would have to look for another bakery because she was too embarrassed to step into this one ever again. Not to mention that he would lose interest in her the moment he realized what a useless idiot she was.

Too late.

So she watched his hands forming a pile of dough into what she assumed would be rolls later, his motions too quick for her to discern what exactly he was doing. It looked a bit like he turned them inside out until the surface was all smooth. 

He glanced over to her through his long lashes, another smile pulling at his lips. "I'm tucking the dough under again and again to have a tight skin on the upper side." He held one up. "Look? The seam is now on the bottom and when I bake them tomorrow, they'll keep their round form."

One raw roll after the other found its way into a deep baking tray.

"You should make a Sheikah Net Channel."

Snorting, he slid the full tray in a mobile shelving.

"What? Like the Chocolate-Man. Just with bread." She smirked. "You have what it takes. Good at explaining, nice, handsome…"

He stepped up to her and reached for something on the counter without bothering to ask her to draw aside. He was close enough that she could nearly feel his warmth although he didn’t touch her. Nearly. 

"You think I'm handsome?" His question was dripping with amusement.

"Come on," she deadpanned, "that can't be the first time someone has told you."

"No." He tried to suppress his grin while he put a bag of flour on the counter, now at a safe distance to her. "But it's always nice to hear it from someone I want it to hear from."

Zelda laughed. "You are a horrible flirt."

Now, his smile softened. "Anything to help you relax, Zelda."

She sneaked a glance at his back when he pulled some other ingredients out of the shelves and drawers. How did he do that? Again, he had thrown her off her guard and she still had to decide if she liked that or not. It was confusing to be so transparent towards someone without trying to. Not even her friends, let alone her family, were so attentive and she’d known them for years whilst she barely knew Link’s name.

“Zelda?” He leaned casually against the counter, a pile of ingredients next to him. “Come on, let’s start.”

“Of course. Sorry.” Slowly, she tiptoed over to him.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that my first rolls were rock-hard? My Na-Grandma disposed of them directly into the bin.” Chuckling, he leaned forward and pulled her closer by the sleeve. “She didn’t even deem them worthy for the gulls.”

“Ouch.”

“Nah, she was right. Okay, I need to know which possibilities you have when you are with your family. Do you have access to a stand mixer?”

Zelda frowned. “Yes… I think so. They have a large kitchen and every gadget you could think of.”

“That’s good. I can’t let you knead the dough manually with your nails anyway.”

Instinctively, Zelda curled her fingers to hide her colorful nails.

“It’s only because we are in the bakery. At home you can knead dough with painted nails all you want.”

Zelda didn’t correct him that they weren’t painted, but coated in gel, and stared at the first line of the recipe he had pinned on the wall instead. Dissolving the yeast in a small amount of water was the first step. Link silently watched her work, offering a quiet word of encouragement or correction here and there. It was nice, actually.

At least until she had finally set the kneading machine to work. Then, his workmate burst through the door with a handful of empty baking trays. The redhead stopped abruptly when she discovered them, the trays in her hand clattering together. “What is she doing here?”

Zelda rubbed her knuckles on her work coat. Was she talking about her? Well, there was nobody else, so she swallowed her irritation and answered. "Link kindly shows me how to do the Loftwing's Nests. I couldn’t manage on my own. I'm Zelda, by the way."

"Mipha." Oh. Not Melitta. 

Mipha's gaze flickered between them before it rested on Link. "A word?"

"Nope." He flipped the switch of the kneading machine to turn it off. "Just speak your mind if you feel you have to."

"Link, we talked about this."

"We did. And you told me your opinion and I told you mine." He lifted the dough hook with too much force. "I'm just helping, okay? It's not a date."

"Okay, okay, just…" Mipha groaned silently, placed the trays on a free surface, and vanished through the door again.

If Zelda had felt out of place before, it was nothing compared to now. What was that, for Hylia's sake? And that Link didn't think of their agreement as a date… shouldn't sting as much as it did. Maybe she shouldn't be surprised, she didn't make the best expression with her clumsiness. He must think she was useless.

"Sorry," he muttered when the door had clunk shut, "Mipha is a bit over the top sometimes."

"Is she… I mean are you?"

Eyes popping open, Link waved off. "No! She has a boyfriend. We are friends, but she's a bit overprotective."

Zelda's thoughts lingered on what he said for a moment, but then she decided she didn't want to know why she was someone Link needed the protection of. It was nonsense anyway, harmless was her middle name. She would surely not betray his trust and post anything she learned here on the Sheikah Net or whatever Mipha was afraid of.

"Okay…" She peeked into the bowl. "That looks better than anything I tried on my own. Now braiding… that's the true challenge, right?"

Link awaited her gaze with crossed arms and an amused tilt of his lips. "That's what you have done until now? What about letting the dough rise overnight?"

"Oh. Uhm…" She fought against the flush that entered her face. "I didn't think it was important."

"It is." He laughed. "It helps to let the gluten build a structure and gives taste to the result. You can't hurry the progress. Good bread needs time. Like lo—"

"Wine?"

Closing the bowl with a lid, he didn't react right away, but then he said, "Yeah. Like wine."

In the end, Zelda left the bakery with a not-date for the next day to finish their work and the information that Link enjoyed a good glass of wine, similar to herself. And just like that, she knew the perfect gift to thank him for helping her so willingly—the wine merchant in Linebeck's Avenue was the place to be.

Chapter Text

Day 8

"By the holy three, this is ridiculous!" Zelda flung her piece of dough on the work surface and stomped her feet. She had opted for flat boots today, so the sound wasn't very impressive, but Link couldn't suppress his laughter nonetheless. 

"Are you laughing at me on top of this misery?" she asked and pouted. 

"Nope." Grinning, he picked up her abandoned piece and handed it back to her. "But you are adorable when you are mad."

She shut her mouth.

Pretending to wipe up some flour, Link turned his back to her to grin a little more. It was cute how bad she was at taking his compliments. Every time he said something nice, she couldn’t cover how taken aback she was and he unabashedly took advantage of that fact.

“Can we take a break? Some coffee or something?” She asked, sighing and rubbing her gloved hands over her cheeks. “Maybe your workmate can make us some, uhm, Daruk was it?”

Link nodded. “I’ll ask him if he can spare a minute.”

When he was back a moment later, Zelda had already disposed of her gloves and made a gloomy face.

“Hey.” Link stroked her arm. “You’ll get the hang of it eventually. Look, two days before you still needed help with the dough and yesterday you managed it all on your own.”

“Yeah, okay, the dough is one thing. That’s like the experiments I did in the university. But I’ll never get this stuff in an acceptable form. I’ve been trying yesterday and today. I’m ridiculously clumsy, no need to pretend I’m not. Just say it.”

Link leaned in her space. “You are not. It is difficult. I know of a baker who refused to braid anything and made his own variation of each traditional piece. We have all different talents.”

“Except me.”

“I bet that’s not true.” Link slowly raised his hand to stroke the flour she had smeared on her face from her cheeks, but he was not prepared for her eyes to tear up when he did so. “Tell me a bit about you. You are a physics major?”

She sighed. “It’s the one thing I’m good at, yes. But nobody is interested in it because it goes above their heads.”

“Uh, well. I can’t keep up with details either, I’m more the applied chemistry type. How does fat influence the structure of the dough, things like that. But—”

Daruk popped his head through the door. “Link? Is this coffee with whipped cream correct???” 

“Yeah.” Link laughed, walked over, and relieved him of the mugs. “Don’t ask.” He came back to Zelda and gave her the drink. “So, what about your work? Tell me more.”

She gave him a strange look. As if she couldn’t believe he was interested in her answer.

“You know what I do, it’s only fair if you share something, too,” he tried to persuade her.

“I ended up in medical engineering,” she said slowly, her fingernails clicking on the porcelain of the mug when she cradled it. “We develop robots for medical purposes.”

“Oh, wow, that’s cool. Like these robots that can perform knee surgery?”

“I’m more specialized in lab robotics which help automatize and speed up processes. Things that make examining samples easier and more accurate. If… if you are really interested, I can share more when we know each other better.”

“Top secret?”

“Yeah, some of the details for sure.” She laughed, finally. “Stealing ideas is a common problem in med tech. Not that I think—”

“Yup, here too.” Link picked up their empty mugs and placed them in the dishwasher. “And I don’t think you would either.”

“Unlike Mipha.”

Link huffed. “Mipha is alright, don’t overthink her behavior. She likes to worry about the people around her, that’s all. Let’s try again?”

He didn’t want to talk about Mipha. She hadn’t called him out on Zelda’s presence in the bakery after he had refused a private conversation with her two days ago, but she didn't need to. The look she had given him when Zelda again knocked on the back door of the bakery yesterday had said it all. And why did she have to behave like this in front of Zelda? The poor woman had been so nervous on that first day anyway, why give her more reasons to be? Daruk had given them an "Oh, hi," when he had discovered that Link wasn't alone in the back room and that was it. Needless to mention that they were both more relaxed today.

Shaking his head to get rid of the gloomy thoughts, he peeked at Zelda. She had a funny knot in her rope-like section of dough that didn't look at all how it was supposed to do. "Shall I show you again?"

"You shall," she sighed.

He took his own piece. "Make a loop. Then, you twist the loop. Like this."

Her fingers stuck through the rope of dough in all impossible places and she threw her head back. "Look at this mess!"

"Okay, maybe the problem is that I'm standing in front of you so that you have to do it mirror-inverted." He moved to stand beside her. "I'll do it again."

No luck either. But maybe the reason for that was that now their elbows were touching and that she stole glances at him instead of concentrating on her craft. 

She rested her shoulder against his. He waited in vain for her to withdraw again, so he shifted behind her with a smirk.

"We'll do it together," he murmured and placed his arms around hers. Only now that he touched her warm fingers he registered that she had forgotten to put disposable gloves on again, but he refrained from correcting her. They were making the Loftwing's nests only for her, anyway.

"Loop, twist—" He stopped because his voice came out more hoarse than he had expected. Was it his heartbeat that quickly thrummed between them? Or hers?

"Here you go."

Her eyes lit up when she discovered that she—well they—had finally managed an acceptable form. She twisted in his arms to press a kiss on his cheek and he blushed, causing her to chuckle. "You are adorable when you are flustered, Li—"

"Li-hink!" A voice interrupted them. "Nana is here!"

Eh—What? His brain was too slow to switch from flirting with Zelda to realizing that his grandma had walked into them, so he did the only thing that came to his mind. Muttering, "good work," he kissed Zelda right back on her flour-dusted cheek.

*************************************************************

That's how the Loftwing's nests are supposed to look like! We'll see if Zelda ever manages on her own. 😄

Chapter Text

Day 9

"Oh! Link! You didn't tell me that your girlfriend is here!"

Blinking, he released Zelda and rubbed his nape. 

"She isn't my—"

"Be a good boy and introduce us.” Link’s grandma came over with open arms, chuckling at his embarrassment. “I taught you better manners than this."

“Zelda… this is my grandma—”

“Just call me Nana like everybody else, sweetheart. What a pleasure to meet you.” She shook and shook Zelda’s hand.

“Likewise.” Zelda managed to turn her surprised expression into something similar to a smile.

“Oh!” His grandma beamed, “I’m sure Link has already told you about me. We are rather close, you know. Ever since his good-for-nothing parents left to”—She snorted exaggeratedly—” see the world and I took care of him.”

“Yes, Link mentioned you… once or twice.” Zelda was stiff as a stick when his grandma patted her arm and gave her a “let-me-look-at-you” once over. Oh, wow, he needed to help her and soon.

“Nana, Zelda is here because I’m showing her how to make Loftwing’s nests for Hylia’s Day. She promised her family to make some this year and I’m helping her out. You know that they are not easy to form.”

“How wonderful!” His grandma peeked at the pile of badly-braided rolls behind them. “Don’t worry about Hylia’s Day, sweetie. I’ll be fine on my own. Of course, you’ll go with your girl to visit her family.”

Link stared at her a moment too long. What on Hylia’s green earth was her problem? He was surely not going to visit one of his customer’s families for Hylia’s Day instead of his grandma. 

“Nana! I’m celebrating Hylia’s Day with you like we did every other year. Zelda and I are not, I mean, she is not—” The “my girlfriend” was lost in his grandma’s gasp for air.

“I don’t want to hear another word of this nonsense, Link!” She turned to Zelda. “No need for that sad face, girl. I have no plans of standing in your way.” Back at Link, she scolded, “Of course, you are going to support her and stay at her side for the holidays. I can’t believe we are arguing about this.” In a sudden change of mood, she chuckled. “I’m not unhappy about it anyway. Maybe I can finally make a move on my hot Bingo seat neighbor at the Hylia’s Day celebration.”

“Your hot… Bingo… seat neighbor?” Zelda stuttered.

“Believe it or not, but 80-year-old guys can be hot, too, when you are 77 yourself, girl.”

“I—I can imagine.”

Link didn’t think she could, regarding her confused expression, but the love life of his grandma was the least of his problems right now. What had he gotten himself into now? He didn’t want to miss Hylia’s Day with his Nana! It was always a nice evening with all the grandpas and grandmas in her residential accommodation. He didn’t want to miss out on the great food and sitting alone at home instead because he didn’t manage to tell her the truth. No, that wouldn’t do.

“Nana, you somehow got the wrong idea.”

“Oh, no, it’s alright, really. Don’t worry about me.” She gathered her long leather cloak and was about to turn. “I’m already on my way out. I just wanted to see my boy, but I can take a hint.” With the door handle already in hand, she called back, “Maybe we can find a better day to meet? A lunch, perhaps? With both of you, of course.” She waved for the last time. “I’ll see myself out. Nice to have made your acquaintance, Zelda!”

"Na—"

The door clung shut and nobody said a word.

Repeatedly, Link rubbed both hands over his face. “Oh, Goddess above. I’m so sorry.” He peeked between his fingers to Zelda who still stood there with her mouth open. “My mom calls her Tor-Nana for a reason. She really can be a hurricane.”

“Tor-Nana?” Now, the tension left Zelda and she snorted dryly. “That’s an awful pun.”

“Awfully correct, if you ask me.”

Zelda shook her head, grinning, and somehow that made his shoulders drop back in place and he chuckled with her. “Again, I’m sorry that you were roped in. You’ll celebrate Hylia’s Day with your family and I with my grandma. No harm done as soon as I’ll explain everything to her.”

“Actually…” Zelda’s gaze was hefted to the spots of flour they had left on the floor. “When she said it, I thought… I mean, only if you want, of course, but the last few days were really nice and…” She pointed at the working surface. “Let’s be real, I won’t manage this.”

Link leaned forward to get a better look at her face. “Uhm… Are you proposing that I come with you?” Strangely enough, she nodded, and her eyes only widened when he asked, “As… as your fake boyfriend?”

“If that is what you… I mean if you are comfortable with that?” she said, all the courage falling off from her like crumbs wiped from a table.

He wrestled for a moment with this idea in his head. Their meetings had been nice. A few days with her family would allow him to get to know her better and maybe he could then decide if she had what it took to date for real. The only problem was… being close to her already shot warmth in his cheeks and sparks through his veins—he would get even more attached than he already was. It was a bad idea. Did fake dating ever go well? He would get his heart broken once again and lose a regular on top of all that.

“It’s alright, Link,” she whispered, her voice so quiet that he could barely hear it over the jazz music trickling in from the front room, “It was just a crazy idea.”

“No, wait! Of course, I’ll do it.” 

Oh. Oh, he was such an idiot. He barely hindered himself from flipping his index on his forehead when she smiled and he melted into a puddle. 

Hylia, help him.

Chapter Text

Day 10

"Do you think she bought it?" Zelda snickered in her scarf when they dashed through the door of the department store restaurant. 

"Are you crazy? Of course, she did," Link muttered.

Zelda sneaked a last glance over his shoulder to see if his grandmother was still waving at them from her table.

Then, Link added, "You fluttered your false lashes at me like an anime character in love!"

"Good." She grinned up at him from the next step of the escalator, but instead of watching the products on display rolling by, she asked. "Do you care for anime films?"

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"Me, too. I have a small collection at my parent's house. Maybe we can watch one of them if my family is getting on our nerves."

"Sure."

She turned and felt his gaze on her perfectly coiffed updo. At least she thought he looked at her, but maybe that was only wishful thinking. She had to remind herself that she wasn't asking for a movie night in terms of… a date night. No. They were pretending. 

It was the weekend after they had agreed to their little stunt. They had decided to spend the day together to get to know each other better so that they wouldn't blow everything up on the first evening. A date to make the fake-date believable, so to say. Thus far, everything worked out and they had a good time. The holidays were going to be fun, for once.

"Oh, no!" Abruptly, Zelda stopped right at the end of the escalator so that Link stumbled into her. 

"Whoa, Zelda?" 

"I forgot that you need a suit for Hylia's Day!"

"A suit?" Link pulled her from the end of the escalator behind a giant tower of chocolate fairies so that they didn't stand in the way. "Why do I need a suit? I thought everything is at your parent's home? I mean, I do have a suit."

"Is it fancy?"

"It's a suit."  

"Thought so…" She sighed. "I know a place, don't worry."

Link chuckled and shook his head when she began to march in the direction of the exit. "You know a place for everything in this city. I've lived here all my life, but you showed me places today I've never heard of."

"Is… is that a compliment?"

"Of course."

"Oh. You’re welcome." Zelda used the cold air that hit them outside as an excuse to hide her blush in her scarf. He needed to stop complimenting her! It wasn't that she didn't like compliments in general, all her family members brimmed with praise for each other. Link only gave one here and there, but he offered them so casually that she began to believe that he meant them and that… wasn’t good for the “fake” in front of the fake-dating operation. 

After a short walk through Castle Town’s snowy alleys, they ended up in front of a small shop window that showed only two articles—a dark suit and a dress coat. 

"Fairy Queen?!" Link scratched his head. 

"I think it's a reference to the fairy tale in which the hero gets different colored clothes from the fairy queen. The one with the Windfish," Zelda explained and pushed the door open. "They don't sell, you can only rent. I'll do that, don't worry. I got you into this mess after all."

He shrugged. From what she could tell, he wasn't overly interested in fashion. His coat was of fine quality, yes, but underneath he wore a standard pair of jeans and a hoodie.

The shop owner had nothing fairy-like about him although the shop policy forced him to squeeze himself in a green fairy costume, which didn’t make him less competent. Zelda showed him a picture of her dress and before Link had finished admiring the rows of tuxedos, the man was back with an armful of clothes. Link tried them one after the other until Zelda and the shop owner simultaneously called “this one!“ when he pulled the curtain back. 

“Uh… velvet? Are you sure?” Link stroked over his sleeve, glancing again and again at the mirrors in the changing room. “What became of ties that match the dress?”

“Let’s pretend we didn’t hear that,” the shop owner said loudly behind his hand and patted laughing Link’s shoulder. “It’s perfect, boy. You two will be the couple of the evening.” He left to give them some privacy and Zelda took his place at the entrance of the cubicle.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to. You can wear your own if you are more comfortable with that.”

“No.” He shook his head and tore his gaze from the mirror to nail her down with his blue eyes. “Since we are already faking, we’ll do it properly.” His gaze lingered when she mouthed—“thank you”—and she craved the words that she could see him forming in his head, but he didn’t voice them.

She closed the curtain when the image of burying her fingers in the velvet to pull him closer under a bouquet of Mighty Thistles wouldn’t leave her eyes. It was easier to find the courage for her next question without looking at him, anyway. 

“Link?” she asked when the rustling of clothes had stopped and she heard him tie his shoes. “I’m aware that we already spent the afternoon together, but I have one other place… you said you like a good wine, and I wanted to thank you for doing all this for me and—”

The inside of the changing cubicle had become completely still. Zelda bumped the back of her head against the pillar she was leaning on. Now she had overstepped and her perfect holidays—fake or not—would collapse like a house of cards. She held her breath before she tried again, “Link?”

Deliberately, the curtain moved to the side. "Do I need another fancy suit to go there?"

The air left her with a puff. "No. Just you and me, as we are."

He held her gaze, a smile slowly spreading on his face. And when he said—"In that case, I'd love to"—she wasn't sure anymore what exactly they were talking about, but she smiled back and that seemed to be enough of an answer.

Chapter Text

Day 11

"Hey boss, what are you doing here?" Mipha asked as soon as the back door had clanged shut after her and she began changing her jacket for her workwear. "Isn't today your day off? I mean, I have no problem with leaving if I'm not needed here." 

"Just making some Hylia's Day gifts. Too lazy to make a mess at home with worse equipment."

Link crouched to watch the melted chocolate that dripped through the sieve, leaving perfectly round pralines on top. He squinted one eye shut to keep his slight headache at bay when he raised. Mipha had finished washing her hands and dressing in a scarf to cover her hair and joined him.

"Some? You are making chocolates for half Hyrule." 

"Yep. And I'm far from finished."

"You sure your Nana should eat so much of them? Isn't diabetes a thing in her age group?"

"Nana hates chocolates." He chuckled. "Even if I make them."

Mipha switched the ovens on to preheat them for the afternoon round of bread and rolls and went over to the cooling room to get the prepared mobile shelvings. Just when Link sprinkled white chocolate as decoration over the chocolates, curiosity took the better of her, and she stepped up to him. "You won't tell what’s up—" With a frown, she stopped. "Is that you or are the chocolates infused with liquor?"

Link flashed her a grin. "You told me to go out, remember?"

Bouncing up and down in excitement, Mipha covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, my goodness, you are hungover and you are grinning like an idiot! What's their name? Where were you? Did you get laid?"

"I had a very nice evening at the winery in Linebeck's Avenue. Did you know that they have a little bar, too?" Bathing in her boundless curiosity, Link put his tool back and leaned casually against the counter. "Very intimate. You should take Revali there for your anniversary."

"Maybe I will. But tell me more! Are they the reason for all these chocolates, too?"

"Yep."

Chuckling, Mipha checked the temperature of the oven and crossed her arms. "You are going 'all in', right?"

"Never hurts to be polite. And I can hardly show up for the holidays with empty hands."

"You are going to visit them for the holidays? How long is that already going? And what about your Nana?!" Mipha brimmed with excitement now, and Link's grin grew and grew. This was too funny.

"Don't worry, it's nothing official. Just a favor. And Nana… kind of gave us the idea."

The gears turned in Mipha's head and she only shrieked out of her trance when the oven beeped. "Okay," she said while she closed the door after shoving the first tray in, "who is it? I need a name to gush."

Link only answered when she had filled the oven with the remaining trays and pressed the button for the steam.

"Zelda."

The smile slipped from Mipha's face like snow from a roof.

"I know what you think. Don't worry. It's an agreement and we both know that it's only that."

"What kind of agreement? Nothing along the friends-with-benefits-line, I hope? That always ends with one falling for the other and it's no secret who that will be."

Link carried his chocolate-smeared tools over to the sink and began to fill it with hot water. "No. Nothing like that. You know that I'm not the type for that. And neither is she, as far as I can tell."

Mipha studied the floor, the oven gloves in her hands forgotten. "Link, I hope you don't mind my concerns. I don't mean to stand in the way of your happiness. If you find with her what you are looking for, I will no longer say a word."

"But?" With an eye roll directed at himself, Link rubbed the bubbles from his sleeves that had landed there when he had trashed the tools in the sink at her words.

"My brother Sidon is married to one of her cousins. I saw her at the wedding reception two years ago." She tapped the oven gloves against each other. "Never mind that she doesn't even recognize me. But what got me worried is how she treated her boyfriend for the two days."

Finally, Link wiped his hands on a tea towel and turned to give her his attention. "And that was how?"

"She just ignored him. He tried so hard to please her—he did everything for her. From carrying her clutch to bringing her drinks, everything. And she didn't care."

"Hm."

"She left without him after church because she forgot about him. He had to take a cab."

"Ouch."

"That's what I'm saying. I don't want you to be treated like this."

Link took a deep breath, feeling his pulse thrumming in his head. "I understand your concern, Mipha. I do. And I promise to remember your advice, okay?"

Mipha pressed her lips into a smile. "I hope I'm wrong."

"She gave me no reason to believe what you told me has anything to do with me. Plus, we are both upright about the fact that we are not dating."

"I know." Mipha sighed and peeked through the window of the oven, very well knowing that the rolls inside were far from ready. "But the heart is a wild spirit who doesn't care for what the mind thinks."

Link offered her a lopsided smile before he cautiously moved the chocolates aside to make room for more. "That's the fascination of love, isn't it?"

Chapter Text

Day 12

The trunk lid of Zelda's car opened with a whizz and Link stared baffled at the inside of her luggage space. An enormous suitcase filled nearly every inch of the small trunk and the little remaining space was stuffed with various items that he believed to be gifts for her family. "Where exactly shall I place my stuff, Zelda?" he cried amusedly towards the front door where she was already sitting behind the wheel.

"Oh. Oh, sorry. I forgot…" She struggled to her feet from the seat and joined him. "Uhm… your bag can go on the back seat and… maybe the chocolates here?" Squeezing some of her gifts a little, she made room for his box. "Maybe you can take this one in your hands on the way? I don't want it to get dusty." She handed him a soft shawl.

"Sure."

After a little more ruckus, they had stored everything to both their satisfaction and set off to the mansion of her parents. Zelda had offered to pick him up and he had spent the last ten minutes waiting for her in the cold, questioning himself, her, and everything else. Sometimes, killing time was also a mood killer. 

Maybe it was normal to have second thoughts about spending the holidays at someone's side he only knew from a couple of not-dates. Faking a relationship—that was out of his comfort zone. So why did he sit in her electric runabout, holding one of her gifts like a hatrack anyway?

He had several reasons, but the most significant were:

A) he was curious about the woman who excelled in physics and robotics, but was too anxious to tell her parents the truth about a white lie, 

B) he caught himself thinking about her laugh, her wit, and how her lips would feel on his too often to let the opportunity pass,

C) and lastly, he was—and that might be the most important reason of all—an idiot.

An idiot with boxes full of chocolates for people he only knew very little about and exactly that needed to remain unnoticed. 

"So, your family… Anything I should know? An uncle who kissed the family cow and was banished or something?"

"No." She smiled sweetly. "All perfectly happy married couples. Well, or perfect careers in the case of my aunt Purah and my cousin Granté." Her smile wavered. "I'm the only black sheep of the family. Still tinkering with robots like a little girl instead of having cute babies and a steep career."

"You save lives with your work, Zelda. Indirectly, but still." Link shook his head. "Are you sure we want to go there? We can turn around and visit my Nana. The old peeps of her house would love you."

"They are alright, I promise." She steered the car on a country road and the buildings interchanged now with snow-covered fields. "Just all of them at once can be a bit much."

"Great." Link stretched his legs as best as he could. Not that he was overly tall, but they had to put his seat further towards the front to make room for his bag and the suit. Perfect career, huh? They probably wouldn't be very impressed by a baker, but he didn't care that much about other people's opinions. He did what he loved for a living and that was more than most people could say.

“Are you nervous?” she asked from beside him after a while. “You’re so quiet.”

“No.” He sighed, not quite willing to admit where his thoughts had spiraled when he saw the winter wonderland flying by. “Not nervous… it’s just… this reminds me…" He closed his eyes for only a second. The stung he had felt for so long didn't come, but that didn't mean the memory was pleasant. "Last year my ex and I had big plans for the winter holidays, visiting my grandma and all that, but that was before I found out he cheated on me. And this year… I’m on my way to visit your family, but... it’s fake.” Another sigh left him. “It just feels a bit odd, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay,” she said quietly, “I thought it might be because you changed your mind. I’m sorry about what happened with your ex.”

“I ignored the signs… but yes, it was an overall shitty phase of my life.”

“I never understood why people cheat at all. Why not make a clean cut?” Accidently, she turned the wiper on and hurried to switch it off again. “But I’m one to talk. I’ve been single for years.”

“Hmhm.” Link discovered the deep fold between his eyes when he looked out of his window and smoothed it out. Didn’t Mipha say she had a boyfriend at Sidon's wedding? His fingers curled in the smooth shawl on his lap and he decided to change the topic.

“This is from the wool and fabric store you showed me, isn't it? I saw it on display. It’s cozy. For whom is it? I need to learn the names.”

Now, she signaled much too early and covered her mistake with a nervous chuckle. “It’s for my aunt Purah, she loves knitted stuff.” She clicked her teeth. “But maybe… don’t mention that I… uh… bought it.”

Link tipped his head towards her. “They think you made it.” For a moment, only the snow-capped trees of the forest they passed rushed by. “All of the gifts?” It was more a realization than a question. Of course, why should it be only the Loftwing’s nests? 

More trees flew past him until she muttered, “You must despise me.”

Absent-mindedly, he stroked his flat hand over the shawl, his eyes following a muddy drop making its way to the edge of the windshield. 

“No.” He looked back at her, wondering if her eyes had become glossy or if it was just the low winter sun glistening in them. “I wonder what makes a woman like you feel that she can't be herself."

She didn't answer. Not with words at least, but the shiver going through her told him that he was close enough to the truth. He hadn't anything to add anymore, so they remained silent until the mixture of gravel and snow of the drive to her parents' house crunched under the car. 

The mood between them shifted again as they tried to get her suitcase out of the car and Zelda nearly landed on her backside when she lost her balance. 

"What in Hylia's name did you pack in there?" Link laughed the tension away when they had finally heaved it to the ground where she could thankfully make use of the wheels.

"Just a few clothes and gifts for the best boyfriend in Castle Town." Her eyes flashed with mirth and Link shut his mouth abruptly. Right . Boyfriend for three days. 

His bag was only half the size of hers, and since she claimed she would get the gifts later, they had no trouble reaching the mansion. 

Inside, everything was stuffed with antique furniture and alike, but he made sure not to look like an ogling peasant. Instead, he kept his gaze on the massive, white-haired man who hugged Zelda.

"Papa? This is Link."

Her father greeted him with a nod and a few polite words but set to his task of reading a hunting magazine soon. Very soon. Link tried not to frown. He wasn't unhappy with the lack of attention, on the contrary, given the nature of their… arrangement, but shouldn't her father be a bit more interested in the first man his only daughter brought home in years? That was a bit odd—

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when Zelda slipped her hand in his and smiled at him. "Come, I'll show you everything."

Only now did it occur to him that they had never talked about the degree of faking. She squeezed, whispering something about luggage, her room, and later, but his thoughts were too muddled to make any sense of her words. 

Oh, Hylia, this would be a fun holiday.

Chapter Text

Day 13

Bubbles. If only Zelda could concentrate on bubbles, nobody would notice how uncomfortable she was. Bubblegum, bubble baths, soap-bubbles—she just had to keep her eyes on the bubbles in her champagne glass and everything would go well. Bubble wrap, bubbles in her belly when Link smiled at her—uh, oh, no—maybe not that kind of bubbles. 

"Oh, it's perfect for a little family like us!" Her cousin Paya gave her another set of pictures of their new house. "We have been looking for an eternity for the perfect family home, but now we finally found it. And the neighborhood is so nice, our little one will find so many friends!"

Zelda took a big sip from her champagne. 

Most of the family members had arrived at her parents' home in the meantime, and while tomorrow—Hylia's Day—would be a rather formal event, today was meant to be a casual evening. They had gathered in the living room, lounging around on the big couches and of course, Paya and Sidon had other good news to share. Because being happily married and expecting a child wasn't enough. Therefore, bubbly for everyone (except Paya) and sweet smiles all around.

Her father patted Sidon on the back when he explained that there was even enough room for an outdoor kitchen, but was interrupted by her mother squealing, "Oh, look! It even has a second kids room!"

"Isn't that wonderful?"

Zelda tried to zone out again. Paya was a sweet girl and they had been close all their lives. She was happy that Paya found her soulmate in Sidon and that everything came to her so easily. It was just that Zelda was at such a different point in her life that the whole excitement gave her the impression that she was left behind. 

With a start, she realized that she had pressed herself to Link's side more and more during the conversation. She shifted back to give him space and offered a weak smile. She didn't want to overdo it again. Not like this afternoon when she had taken his hand at the spur of the moment to bring them out of another uncomfortable situation. Foolishly, she had forced herself on him and he felt obliged to follow her lead. What should he do anyway?

Once again, she had ruined an opportunity. She had planned to test the waters during the holidays, to see if he might be interested in more with her, now that he was here. But somehow, she had managed to give him the impression that every move she made was a part of their trick.

With an internal sigh, she returned her focus to the conversation—just in time to see her uncle Robbie smiling at her.

"And you, Zelda? Still no plans to settle down?"

Hastily, she swallowed another sip before she answered when he raised his eyebrows at Link.

"I'm very happy with my apartment in Castle Town, to be honest. I couldn't imagine tending to a house and a garden at the moment."

"Zelda knows the city like nobody else, it's impressive," Link said, straightening his posture a little. "Even for a local like me. She should take you all for a tour one day."

Robbie's gaze lingered and then he shook his head in the direction of her parents. "In love with a city, hm? Doesn't look like you'll get some grandchildren anytime soon."

"Well," her mother said, "Your Granté isn't much ahead or did I miss something? One day, Zelda will find the one, and then we'll talk again."

"Mom," Zelda hissed into her now unfortunately empty glass.

"Ah, well," with a pat on his belly, her father interrupted their conversation. "Someone needs to take over the mansion anyway one day. We'll look for something smaller, then. Your Mom and I have already decided on that."

And they didn't even think of asking her? Zelda's fingers cramped around the stem of her glass and she ducked her head to breathe out.

"Hey," a voice whispered. Ah, right, her fake boyfriend was here as well. Goddess, how had she managed to drive her life in the ground like that? How had following her interests after finishing university led to this?  

"Zelda." Link wrapped his arm around her and tugged her closer. W-what? He pressed his lips close to her ear, whispering, "We still have to prepare the dough for tomorrow."

She swallowed thickly. Of course, he was pretending. Fake, everything was fake, but in his moment, in the safety of his arm, she wished nothing more than it would be real. She wanted that someone was on her side in all this, that she could share a look with someone who would remind her that she was not alone. And maybe a small part of her wished that this someone could be Link.

She breathed. She couldn't have that, but she didn’t turn his support down, no matter if it was fake or not.

Paya took the opportunity to tell everyone the results of her last scan after Zelda had muttered an excuse for them. 

In the kitchen, Link switched the bright ceiling lamp on and Zelda flinched. Now she would look like a sick ghost on top of all the misery. 

Okay, baking. How was she supposed to bake now? Where might the ingredients that the housekeeper had bought for them be?

"Uhm, Zelda?" 

She whirled around. 

"Hm?"

"Before we start…" Link scratched his nape. "Do… Do you need a hug? You were really tense on the couch."

Open-mouthed, she stared at him. This man was a gem. 

"Would… would that be weird?" she asked.

"Because we are just…" He trailed off and shrugged before a small grin played around his mouth. "Only one way to find out."

It was not weird.

Chapter Text

Day 14

Usually, Link felt at ease in any kitchen. Especially in his own spaces, be it at home or in the bakery, but he had cooked and baked in everything from makeshift pantries on a campsite to full-blown restaurant kitchens. 

The moment after he had finally let go of Zelda, however, was different. He didn't regret offering the hug—she needed it. But now she was suddenly skittish, tugged drawers and doors open, made a mess with the bag of flour, and nearly bumped into him with the box of milk in her hands and he stood in her parents’ kitchen like a toddler who had lost his guardians in a supermarket.

"Zelda? Are you alright?"

"Yes," she squealed, clattering a bowl on the workspace. 

Maybe the champagne? But she had a lot more wine when they were at the winery, one glass wouldn't make her nervous and blushed like this. 

He shrugged it off and began to help her. She had forgotten that they needed butter, so he stared into the giant fridge until he found a pack. Once they had everything set, she began to weigh the yeast to dissolve it into the water. Helplessly, she looked into a drawer with kitchen utensils, poking at this and that. Grinning, he stepped closer and pulled the right one out. 

"You don't cook or bake very often, do you?" he asked, amused.

"Are you only now figuring that out?" She began to stir the yeast water and sighed. "I'm a terrible housewife in general."

Silently, he gave her the salt to dissolve it in the rest of the water, his gaze flickering to the little smear of mascara under her eyes where she had secretly wiped away a tear earlier with her back to him.

"Is that the reason for your aversion towards these domestic things?" He nodded in the direction of the living room.

Her hands paused on the stand mixer and she looked at a spot above his head. "No… not really. It's more… I like my life. I love my job and I love living in the city." She laughed humorlessly. "And it's not that I have a partner, to begin with. If that was different… Maybe." She slapped the mixer. "I just don't understand when this became a competition."

"It's not. They make you think that. Don't let them force you into something that you don't want." He took a deep breath, emotions he hadn't thought about for a long time suddenly constricting his throat. "A child is the decision of a lifetime. You can't change your mind halfway through."

Her eyes snapped to him and she abandoned her task completely. The air in the kitchen became thick when he refused to look away again. He wasn't sure why he didn't. Maybe he waited for her to prove that she was a superficial fashion girl, that she only cared for her reputation as a perfect daughter by giving him a polite smile. It never came.

"Tell me about your parents." Her gaze became piercing, glittering, mascara-smeared eyes daring him to obey her. 

Oh. Oh. Damn it. He hadn't expected to be so weak for her no-nonsense look so soon.

With an eye roll, he reached for the stand mixer and switched it on. 

She switched it off. "I'm serious."

He laid his fingers over hers and pressed the switch once more, staring into her eyes.

"Link."

Off.

On.

Off—on—off—on.

"Link!" With a huff, she pulled the plug.

"Fine," he hissed, undecided what to do about the smug grin that appeared on her lips. He had a good mind to just rage-kiss it from her face, but he had no desire to add a burning cheek to his misery.

She raised her eyebrow at him when he gritted his teeth without saying a word.

"So…" she began, her words provokingly slow, "Nana told me that she took care of you when your parents couldn't."

"Couldn't..." He snorted the word out. "They could have well enough."

"What happened, then?" Her voice softened to warm butter.

Link leaned his back against the counter, pressed the heels of his hands in his eyes, and drew a heavy breath in. Zelda's hand gingerly squeezed his forearm and it was nearly enough to tip the lurking moisture in his eyes over. Skies, he hadn't talked about this in so long. 

"They… they've always been globetrotters. Rucksack on the back and nose in the sun, that kind of person. When I was born, they simply took me with them." He poked his finger into a spot of flour. "I learned swimming in the springs of Faron and ice skating in Hebra.”

“That sounds cool, to be honest. But then? What happened? A blow of fate? An accident?” Zelda hung on his lips, still squeezing his arm.

“School, that’s what happend.”

“School?!”

“Yeah. When I turned six, they tried to homeschool me. Well, wherever home at that time was. But since they aren’t able to keep a schedule or at least stick to a plan, it didn’t work out.”

“Oh.”

Link sighed quietly. “We returned to Castle Town and I went to school there. It was nice—I found friends and we didn’t have to part after a few weeks. The months went by, but my parents grew restless.”

“They left you at your Nana and went back to traveling.” Zelda’s hand fell to her side again.

Link looked at her for a long moment, finding solace in the fact that she grasped the essentials so fast.

“At first, they only were away for a few weeks, but weeks turned to months until they only visited for a couple of days every year, making a ruckus when they were here.” He shook his head. “They still send packages with souvenirs and toys.”

“Toys?” Zelda frowned. “Oh. You are still a kid in their heads.”

“Yup.”

“Wow, that’s awful. How can someone abandon their own child like that?”

Link crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t think they see it that way. They probably thought I would be happier in Castle Town and at some point they had been long enough away to lose any connection to me.”

“Still awful.”

“I guess so.” He offered her a smile. “Can we continue?” Snatching the cord, he tried to push the plug back in the socket, but she laid her hand over his.

“No. I will hug you now.”

“Oh, will you?” He chuckled when she straightened her posture in determination and narrowed her eyes at him, sincerely awaiting his protest. 

“Guess there’s nothing I can do about it, then.”

“No,” she said, tugging at his arm.

“Zelda?” he mumbled into her hair when she had wrapped her arm around his waist and her perfume hit him once more. “Thank you.”

When they separated again to finish the dough, they were both more at ease. Maybe two hugs were enough to get used to it.

Chapter Text

Day 15

Link squinted his eyes when Zelda switched the lamp to their room on—the dim light in the living room had made him drowsy. And maybe the wine to which Zelda's family had moved on to when they returned from the kitchen. Thankfully, the others had been discussing the latest local scandal, so no one had bothered them when they clang their own glasses and chatted the hour away. 

"Okay…" She began to walk through the room—well, it was more a suite. "Over there is the bathroom, feel free to unpack your stuff. I assume you don't need too much space." She laughed at her own joke, the wine making her smile more readily. 

"Ah, and you can use the closet if you want. Look, your suit is already here." She made a sweeping gesture. "This was my room, but now my parents use it as a guest suite. Some of my stuff is still here, so if you want to watch a movie—"

She came to an abrupt halt, flushing like their red wine. 

"Zelda?"

He twisted, following her gaze. Then, he took another look through the room.

"We have only one bed and no couch."

"Yes," she admitted hoarsely. "There used to be one..."

"So it's either we share the bed or I sleep on the floor."

She blinked rapidly. "I will not make you sleep on the floor. You are the guest."

"Well." He crossed his arms. "And I will not agree to you sleeping on the ground either."

"Great."

"Come on," Link gestured towards her, "it's only a big deal if we make it a big deal."

"It will be weird."

"The hug wasn't weird," he argued.

"That was a hug!"

Link's smile became smug. "Following that logic, sharing a bed should be less weird since we'll be touching less."

She stood there a moment, thinking, her face still red. It was cute, how worried she was—it was just platonic bed-sharing. He had done that with various friends before at sleepovers or vacations and it had never been weird. With a shrug, he began to unpack his stuff to give her space. Maybe she needed a moment.

When he snatched his toothbrush and walked over to the bathroom, she twirled around, pajamas pressed to her chest.

"Hm?"

"Please tell me that you don't sleep naked," she muttered, hiding her face in the clothes.

Link bit his lip to stop his laughter. He sneaked up to her and whispered from behind, "Not on the first night, babe. Maybe you’ll have more luck tomorrow."

"You!" Zelda shot her eyes open and tried to slap him with the pajamas. Link ducked under her strike, finally laughing. Oh, she had it coming with how easily she got flustered! He caught her wrist, softening his laughter to a smile. "I'm sleeping in undies and a shirt, is that modest enough for you?"

His grip on her wrist loosened and his fingers brushed over her hand until their fingers were half-entangled. Accidentally. Because why would she linger? He withdrew, answering her eye roll with a wink, and disappeared into the bathroom.

It took a bit of quiet shuffling until they had everything set up and with every passing minute, the tension between them grew. He was tempted to turn and stare into his phone to wait out until she had fallen asleep, but that seemed even weirder than lying on his back next to her.

"Link?" Zelda whispered. "Is… is this okay? I can get up and ask my parents for a bedroll. I don't want to make you uncomfortable just because I'm too clumsy to bake."

"I'm alright as long as you are." He turned towards her, propping himself up on his elbow. "I've shared a bed with someone in a much more uncomfortable situation than this, so don't worry about me."

"As in?" she asked quietly.

"The night I realized Ganondorf cheated on me."

"Your ex."

"Hmmm."

She shuffled and her green irises lit up in the moonlight like the eyes of a straying cat in the night. "I'm sorry. For everything."

Link resisted the urge to put a curl behind her ear and drew a circle on the mattress with his index finger instead. "I would say, it's nothing, but I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well, everything. I dragged you here into the middle of my chaotic family without knowing about your parents." She made a smacking sound as if she chewed her bottom lip, but he could only see her eyes in the dark. "And the holiday situation with your ex, too."

"It's alright. You didn't know, but I did. Most parents are better at parenting than mine, I'm used to that." He stopped the motion of his finger. "And for my ex… I'm over it. It's been a year and I learned plenty about myself since then. He… he was a lot older than me and, well. Although we had a good time in the beginning, I think I was in the relationship for the wrong reasons.”

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

He shrugged his free shoulder, whispering back, "I tried to close a gap in my life, but that ended in an unbalanced relationship."

She hummed quietly.

"I think," he added and chuckled, "for me, it works better when both are a bit messed up."

“Like?” He heard her swallowing.

You. But of course, he couldn’t say that or the remaining days would be weird as hell—He wasn’t sure if she would take it kindly that he more or less accused her of being messed up with her all-time goal of appearing to be perfect. So, he shrugged again. “I’m just looking for a real person because I would feel stupid next to a Miss or Mister Perfect. The only must is honesty.”

“And faithfulness.”

Link resumed tracing patterns on the linen. He had thought so many nights about these questions without ever telling anyone. “That’s not necessarily the same. If… if Ganondorf had come to me in earnest and admitted that he made a mistake—maybe told me what we were lacking that eventually brought him into that situation, I—I would have considered carrying on.”

A quiet hum was her answer and it made Link peek up. Her eyes were closed. “Hey!” He laughed. “Are you dozing off while I’m baring my soul to you?”

He took advantage of the shared cover, trying to tickle her, only remembering with a bolt the involuntary intimacy of their situation when he touched her stomach through the thin pajamas. 

“No!” She laughed, fighting him off until she had one of his hands clasped between them and the other pinned to the mattress. “I didn’t sleep! I just process better with my eyes shut.”

“You are what—oho!” He pulled her closer by their joined hands until they were nearly face to face. “Zelda.exe has stopped working because the handsome man in her bed has shared his philosophical thoughts with her.”

“Oh, goddess, did you just make a robot joke?”

“Yep.”

“Nobody is allowed to make robot jokes in this house apart from me.”

"Oh?" He reduced his voice to a husky whisper and her eyes widened, much to his amusement. "And what are you going to do with me now?"

"Kick you out." He could only discover her grin in her voice and her twinkling eyes. "Or marry you. I haven't decided yet."

"Well, it was more a programmer joke, anyway," he murmured, hyperaware that she had only let go of the hand that had pinned him to the bed—the other was still caught in hers.

It was a pity that he couldn't see her properly because in a situation with more light, he had definitely risked a glance at her lips. He closed his eyes anyway, half-hoping that she —oh-o— something firm and soft brushed his lips. 

It was the pad of her thumb. 

"Well, well, look at the handsome man in my bed now. He's talking himself out of both options."

She let go of his hand, turned to her back, and chuckled before she bid him goodnight. 

He suppressed his reflex to chase after her hand and buried his face in the pillows. His heartbeat refused to calm down, and he had the faint idea that the ghost of her touch on his lips was the reason for that.

Oh, Hylia, not falling for her was going really great. 

Chapter Text

Day 16

Zelda awoke to a cold, empty bed. That was nothing unusual, but the fact that her thoughts immediately circled around Link was new. The room was quiet and a half-open door revealed the view into the dark bathroom. Her gaze flashed to his bag. Still there. Why should he leave now, anyway? If anything, the moment to go had been yesterday night. Heat washed over her face again. How could she forget about the sleeping situation of all things? She should have been prepared; her parents changed the interior of the mansion all the time. She was lucky enough that he was so understanding, kind, and uncomplicated.

After a shower and a little make-up, she started looking for him. In the kitchen, the living room, or the library—she couldn't find him. Just when she was about to ask her parents, she saw a puff of white air outside in the winter garden. Was he smoking??? Grabbing a blanket from the couch, she slipped through the door to greet him. "Good morning."

He looked up from his book. "Hi. Didn't see you coming."

"I hardly found you. And then I feared you were smoking."

"Nah, only tea." He put his book aside to take a sip from his steaming cup, a smirk playing on his lips. Rays of the morning sun shimmered on his pink-dusted cheeks. Together with his tea, the book, and his fine coat he looked like he was a model straight out of a winter magazine—maybe an advertisement for the nostalgic porch swing he had tucked himself away in.

"You feared I was smoking, yes?" He leaned forward, the old swing squealing. "Why would that even bother you? Any plans to kiss your boyfriend for the formidable gift he got you for tonight?"

Oh, she was done with his attempts to get her flustered. That might have gotten her the first few times, but she knew him well enough now to see that he only wanted to tease her.

She leaned down to him until the cold radiating from his cheek hit her skin. "I might. But the last time I kissed him on the cheek, he was so flustered that I'm not sure he liked it." 

Pulling back, she studied his face. It was impossible to tell if he blushed. She wished he would.

He met her eyes from under his lashes instead, cocking his head just enough for her to notice. "He kissed you back, didn't he?"

Their eyes stayed locked for a moment and she tried to grasp onto something in the vibrant blue. Did he feel the same tug in his belly as she did? Were his flirts a mere game for him or did his touch linger on purpose? 

“Zelda?” Great, her father called her at the most fitting moment. Maybe she would get her answers tonight—her gift could be the key in making some progress.

“Zelda!”

With a sigh, she tore herself away and answered. “Yes, Papa?”

“Ah, here you are.” Her father popped his head through the glass door. “Aren’t you a bit chilly, boy? Anyway, if you want to use the kitchen, now’s the time. I need to prepare the Spicy Meat and Seafood Fry soon.”

“Yes, we are coming. We need something for breakfast anyway.”

Her father made room for them to come in, but when she slipped out of the blanket, he remembered something else. “Oh, and Granté is arriving soon. Be prepared for some bragging on his part, I read that his department outdid their figures this year.”

Of course they did. “Thanks for the heads-up, Papa. I’ll think of a good story to counter him.”

“You are my best girl, Zelda.”

“And your only one.” She replied, their old banter never failing to make her smile softly.

In the kitchen, she pulled some cake from yesterday out of the fridge as on Hylia’s Day, sweets for breakfast were allowed for once. Link munched his piece in record time and then he switched to work mode and began humming to prepare their baking task. With a lopsided smile, he finally offered her a piece of dough. Right. The reason he was here in the first place—her inability to tell her parents the truth paired with her inability to bake a decent Loftwing’s nest.

Loop, loop, twist? No. With a frustrated groan, she glanced at Link’s row of perfectly braided nests on the baking tray.

“Hey.” He stepped up to her and enclosed her hands with his still cold fingers. “I should have thought about this before, but you can just make a simpler form. Hylia won’t strike us with lightning if we don’t braid them like this.”

“You realize that now, after I broke my fingers a hundred times?”

“Sorry?” he mumbled sheepishly and cast his gaze down.

“Okay, how do I do it?”

“You can make two ropes, intertwine them, and put them together like a nest.”

She tried—and succeeded! 

“Look! I did it!”

Link cautiously picked her piece up and laid it to the others, smiling at her from over his shoulder. “If I were a Loftwing, I would settle down in your nest.”

"Goddess, Link!" She snatched a new piece of dough and rolled her eyes. "Stop being so cheesy!"

"Bread and cheese? Sounds perfect to me." He chuckled, having decidedly too much fun with his awful jokes. She nudged his shoulder with hers, trying not to think about kissing that everlasting smirk from his pretty face for too long or she would run the risk of doing it. Not yet. She had to be sure that his flirting wasn't fake.

The door to the kitchen flew open when she had managed another two nests.

"Hey Zel! Happy Hylia's Day and all this nonsense!"

She didn't have the time to turn before her cousin Granté had picked her up for a hug. 

"Oof. Hi there."

Granté grinned like an idiot and waved the woman behind him closer. "Zelda? That's Prima." He puffed his chest out, grabbing her hand. "If she seems familiar, that's because she's the heir to the Great Ton Pu hotel chain."

"Granté, darling, I told you to stop that." Prima chuckled and swiped her long brown hair behind her shoulder.

"Ah, you would have told them anyway in the next five minutes," Granté teased with a wink.

Zelda put her best smile on and struggled not to be impressed by the beauty of the celebrity. "Uhm, yeah, sorry for the mess, we are making Loftwing's nests. 'We' means Link and I."

"Hi." Link waved.

"Ah, a surprise guest. Or maybe not so much a surprise." He winked again while Zelda tried to figure out what he meant.

"Anyway, we are going to move into our rooms and look for dad. See you later for dinner!"

She stared after them until Link tapped her shoulder. The frown on her forehead began to give her a headache.

"I guess I have to add 'celebrity girlfriend' to 'brilliant career' on Granté's list." She groaned quietly. "Now I'm the only one left who is unable to get herself a partner."

"Zelda…" Link rubbed his hands on the too-big apron that he had borrowed from her father.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to dump that on you."

"It's alright," he sighed and they set quietly to work again.

When Link put the tray in the hot oven and poured a cup of water on another tray, he lingered even when the fizzling sound of the steam had ebbed. "Zelda?"

"Hm?"

"Why… Why does your family ignore me?" He crouched to take a look in the oven and leaned his head against the handle. "Shouldn't they… I don't know. They are all very reserved towards me."

Absent-mindedly, Zelda rubbed her hands longer than necessary under the water of the sink. "I think they are just busy with their own stuff. It's not about you."

He hummed, but when she looked over to him to meet his gaze, he had hefted his eyes towards the contents of the oven. His playful mood was gone. Something had shifted and the way he drew his shoulders up told her, it was nothing good.

Chapter Text

Day 17

Dinner went better than expected. After Link had been more or less ignored by another family member this morning, he hadn't been very keen to sit at a table full of people who treated him like a ghost. 

Maybe he was overthinking it. Zelda herself had been nothing but kind and flirty since they arrived, but something about the whole situation didn't sit right with him. Even if they were busy with themselves, shouldn't they care about the first man at her side in years? It didn't bother him at first—the less attention he received, the less likely it was that their little lie was discovered. But by now, it was clear that something was off. 

So it was a pleasant surprise that he sat next to Sidon during dinner—when Link dropped that he was working with his sister, Sidon loosened up and they chatted the dinner away.

Their Loftwing's nests received a lot of praise, but as usual, Link didn't pay much attention to words, but actions. The bread was served with the traditional pumpkin soup and a little prayer to the Hero of old so that his soul might be reborn again in the face of Hyrule's peril. What caused Link to chuckle in satisfaction was not only the glare that Zelda's father gave Granté when Zelda's cousin attempted to grab the third one, but that her mother ate two as well. Before dinner began, her mother had told Zelda a tale about the absolute nightmare that were carbs for staying slim and healthy. So much for that.

So, overall, dinner had lifted his spirits enough that he didn’t mind the juvenile tune that Zelda’s mother played on the harp when they switched to the living room. Fairy lights hung from the ceiling like lianas and it was tradition that the couples danced to the Goddess Song without getting tangled up. He had always skipped this custom with his Nana—as long as they celebrated at home, they didn’t dance because it was usually just the two of them and in her new home, the harp came from a tape and the fairy lights were a mere decoration.

Here, it was very different. Zelda floated in his arms, smiling his little missteps away. He held her closer than necessary—the cutouts on the back of her long evening gown made skin contact easy and maybe the fluttering of her lashes when she corrected his posture until his hand rested in one of the openings had made him bold. She stepped between his feet at the next turn and brushing her cheek with his, she whispered in his ear, “Ready for your gift?”

He coughed, the intimacy in her voice catching him off guard. “Aren’t we… ah... waiting for the Great Fairy to knock on the window for... the gifts?”

Zelda’s husky voice in his ear together with her body pressed against his gave him a lot of ideas about what she could give him and most of them were not suited for a family celebration. Skies, how was he supposed to sleep with her in the same bed— platonically —if she kept touching and teasing him like this?

“No, since there are no kids around this year, we’re going to skip that. The others begin with the gifts, too.” She laughed and took him by the hand, her long golden hair tickling his neck. 

They were faking. 

They were faking!  

He had to repeat it in his head until his stupid pulse stopped kicking up.

She led him over to where baskets dangled from ropes spanned across the ceiling interchanged with more fairy lights. Each person had a basket with gifts. His was expectantly empty apart from a single Mighty Thistle and a black envelope that had written "Link" in curvy, silver letters upon it. Hers, however, was filled with small packages, carefully wrapped and decorated with pearls and ribbons.

"You go first," he mumbled, suddenly keen to get over with the exchange in case she didn't like his gift. It hadn't been very hard to find something for her—during their trip through Castle Town's shops, this and that had caught her eye, and all he had to do was come back the next day and pick something. But what if she had only looked at the items to distract herself?

"Oh, Link!" She flew around his neck. Well. Maybe she did like it. "How did you know? I’ve wanted a pullover like this forever!"

"Uhm." He scratched his neck when she had released him again. "Well, you couldn't take your eyes off it when we were in the shop and I thought…"

She became very quiet—the good kind of quiet, not the unnatural. And her eyes firm on him, fingers of one hand buried in the soft wool, the other clutching his arm, she breathed, "I love it. Thank you."

His voice came out equally soft, but for once he didn't mind. "You are very welcome."

Her fingers twisted awkwardly in the sleeve of his velvet suit and the moment stretched until she broke it to say, "Now your turn."

Clearing his throat, he reached for the envelope. She blushed under her makeup before he had even broken the seal. "It's okay if you don't—"

"Let me see what it is before you play it down." He chuckled and pulled the content out. Two tickets, colored black and deep red, appeared. He turned them to read the text at the back, but Zelda had already started babbling.

"These are tickets for the little theatre on Epona's street. They play a mixture between mystery stories and comedy, it's really good. I don't know if you've been before since you love murder mysteries—it's kind of an insider's tip. And of course, you are free to go with whoever you want, we don't have to..." Her blush had extended to the tips of her ears and Link couldn't help but stare. Did she… Did she give him tickets to go to the theatre with him? As in a date? A not-fake date? Or was she just dealing out insider tips?

"I'm sure I'll love it, Zelda, thank you." He motioned her to lean in and began to whisper. "Is… is this fake, too? Or are we really going to do this?"

She sucked a breath in before she answered. "Link, I enjoyed the last—"

A squeal interrupted her. It was so loud that they accidentally bumped their heads together.

"Ohgoddessohgoddessohgoddess!" Prima jumped up and down, fanning herself with her hands. "Guys, look at this!" She stretched her left hand out, letting out another squeal. "Granté asked me to marry him! Oh Goddess, yes! I'm going to marry, we are going to marry! It's going to be so extra!"

The stupor that had befallen everybody at her outburst lifted and they all talked at once, showering the couple with hugs and congratulations. 

Zelda unfroze as well, but before walking over to her cousin, she muttered through her teeth, "Didn't they just meet?"

Link offered an awkward handshake after Zelda had hugged them, but nobody really cared anyway. Zelda's father produced several bottles of champagne from somewhere and Prima's ring was admired by Paya, Sidon, and Zelda's mother.

Robbie stood behind his son, patting his shoulder. 

"That's our boy, right, Jerrin?" He squeezed his wife with his free arm. "Not messing about the important things in life. Good job, lad."

Zelda walked slowly backward to avoid the attention of her family, but it was too late. Robbie made a pointing gesture at her that involved his fingers and his arms. "You should take a leaf out of his book, Zellie. Your robots can wait. You are not getting younger."

"I'm 28." Her voice quivered, but anyone apart from Link noticed. 

Robbie winked. "Just saying."

Link gulped, but as much as he wanted to be supportive—fake dating was one thing, but a fake engagement was not up for debate.

"Zelda…" he muttered and laid his hand on her smaller back. "I think we forgot the chocolates in the kitchen."

She turned in slow-motion, her eyes already glittering. "The… Oh! Yes, the chocolates!"

They didn't even make it through the kitchen door before she threw herself in his arms and began to sob.

Chapter Text

Day 18

“Come on,” he murmured into her hair, “Let’s at least go inside.” He walked her backward, trying and failing to kick the door shut behind him. With an outstretched arm that threw them both nearly off-balance, he managed to give the handle a push.

“Did you hear that?! They all have their lives in perfect order and I’m the only one who is a failure.” She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling in an attempt to get rid of her tears. “I still have the same job I applied for after university. No career, no managerial responsibility, nothing. I got one raise in the last few years and that was just because we all got one and Granté is the freaking CEO!”

Link patted her back, but she was just getting started. “Paya just bought a house for her perfect family and stupid me thought at least Granté would—I don’t know what I thought. I love them all, they deserve it. But why can’t I be a bit like that?”

She sniffed back her snot so loud and unladylike that Link had a hard time not to chuckle. “Look at me, I spoiled them all with self-made gifts, and for what? I’m still told I should be more like them. Well.” Another sniff. “Maybe not so self-made.” She slapped a pack of napkins that laid on the counter. “And now I’m ruining the borrowed suit of my fake boyfriend because I’ll never be able to attract someone for real. My life is a mess. I’m a complete mess.”

“Done?”

“What?”

“I asked if you are done with beating yourself up.” Zelda had released him between the second and the third outburst, so he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

“No, I’m not, thank you very much!”

“Then go ahead, I’m listening.”

“Link, what do you—urgh, you are not better with your sweet little bakery and your perfect Loftwing’s nests! Look at you, you look awesome in everything and you are nice and attentive and—”

Link bit his lip. What a shame that she stopped, now that it was getting interesting.

She deflated, leaning her arm and her head against the fridge. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude to you. You are the last to blame.”

“I only heard a bunch of compliments.” Finally, Link allowed himself a little grin, but then, he became serious again and stroked her arm. “I’m a baker, Zelda. I spent three years learning nothing else, of course, I’m good at what I’m doing. Put me at your workplace for a few hours and you’ll have a bigger mess than a twisted piece of dough.”

Zelda let go of the fridge, crouched to pick up the pack of napkins, and turned them in her hands. “Okay, fair.”

“Speaking of your work. Do you love what you are doing?”

She pointed the edge of the pack at him. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are doing. But yes, I love my work.”

“That’s good. Do you want to be a CEO?”

“Hell, no.” She seized him up with a heated look. “Okay, fine.”

He leaned slightly in her space and continued. “Are any of them allowed to tell you if and when you should get married?”

Huffing, she rolled her eyes.

“Good.” Link said. “Then don’t give them that power.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I never said it’s easy.”

She growled and Link wasn’t sure if he had achieved anything by making her angry instead of sad. The pack of napkins rushed down to the counter and Zelda stomped her feet, undecided where she should go. In the end, she marched around the kitchen block for lack of alternatives and ended up with her finger pointed at his chest.

"You and your damned honesty. Can we go back to yesterday when you just offered me a hug?"

He softly enclosed her hand in his and tugged her closer, wrapping his arm around her back. "You are mad because I'm right. You let them drive you in front of them although you don't even care about half of these things."

"Why do you do that, dealing with my mess?" Since she was cuddled against his chest, she looked up at him for once, her eyes swollen, but hopeful. He wished they would never have that spark of pointless self-pity again.

"Isn't that what friends do?"

She gasped.

"What?" He chuckled and squeezed her waist. "I told you about my messes and you’ve told me about yours. You are crying on my shoulder and I'm hugging you. Sounds pretty much like friends to me."

"That… would be nice."

He held her a moment longer, slowly getting absorbed by her perfume, by his hand on her back, and her warmth all over his chest. Smoothing out a wrinkle in the sleeve of her gown, he asked, "Are you ready to go back? We can't stay here forever."

She wrinkled her nose. "That's a pity. Oh… but I can't..." Detaching herself from him, she twirled around, yanked a drawer open, and snatched two spoons. She cracked a smile towards him while she threw them in the freezer.

To say he frowned was an understatement. "What on Hylia's green earth are you doing, Zelda?"

"You'll see. But now let me look at your suit." She drove her fingers over his collar and he followed them with his eyes like a cat followed a laser pointer. Oh. Make-up stains. 

Zelda tinkered with a rug from another drawer and was back at him in a beat. She started to rub at the stains, her leg casually placed between his, her hand spread on his shoulder. 

After holding his breath for half a minute to hinder himself from laying his hands on her waist, he slowly breathed out again. Who would have thought that such a random, domestic scene would nearly be the last straw to crush his lips on hers? Tomorrow. Maybe he would kiss her tomorrow when it was only the two of them on their way home. In case they were not faking. Were they? He couldn't tell anymore. But now was not the time—now everything was chaotic enough as it was.

In his determination to not kiss her, he had missed that she had retrieved the spoons from the freezer. 

With little curses spilling from her lips, she laid them on her eyes. What the…?

He cleared his throat. "What…what are you doing?"

"The cold helps to reduce the swelling so that I don't look like a hysterical sniveler."

"Oh. Like when you sprain your ankle."

"Yep."

"I'll keep it in mind for the next time I'm the sniveler."

"As if."

"More likely than you think. And now come on, you look fine. They'll call for the result of your pregnancy test in two weeks if we stay any longer."

She screeched, more in laughter than in outrage, "Oh my goddess, Link!" 

At least she was laughing again, he thought when she took his offered arm, so maybe the rest of the evening would be alright.

It was only later, deep in the night when Link stared at the pale moon in front of Zelda's window and thought about the strange situation he had brought himself into, that he realized that Zelda had indeed never answered his question if the theatre visit was a real date or not. 

But maybe she didn't have to. 

His gaze traveled down to their cover where she had curled up herself at his side, the space of the previous night gone. Maybe she gave her answer in the way her hand snuck around his chest while she was sleeping. 

"Good night, Zelda," he whispered into her hair before he closed his eyes. "Happy Hylia's Day."

Chapter Text

Day 19

The next morning came with a pleasant surprise. Zelda had just stored her gifts in her suitcase and thumbed through the baking book with Link that he had also sneaked in her basket when the excited voice of her mother carried over to them from the hallway. Not a minute later, Zelda was buried under a tangle of arms and red hair.

"Hello, Riju," she greeted the teen who grinned broadly at her, showing her fire-red braces.

"Hi, Zel! Can I see your gifts!"

A 'tsk' rang over from the door. "Riju, don't be rude. You haven't even greeted everybody." 

Urbosa, Zelda's Mom's best friend, walked over to them, giving both Link and her a handshake. After they exchanged their introductions, Zelda inquired, "Where's Nabs?" Turning to Link she added, "Her wife, Nabooru."

"Ah." Urbosa shook her hand next to her face. "You know we have our deities. She isn't into Hylia's Day traditions as such and if she's uncomfortable, I'm the last to force her to participate."

"But you don't mind?" Zelda asked, her brows knitted together. 

Urbosa huffed out a laugh. "I don't care much for religion in general, and if there is the chance to see you all in one place, I'm not going to miss it."

Zelda beamed at her. Urbosa and her had always had a special bond, mainly because the woman was so pleasantly low-stressed.

"We can't stay long, though, but an hour is better than nothing, right?" She smiled at them. "Any chance that there are some leftovers from your Dad's cooking?" She leaned in, her eyes glittering mischievously. "I might not care for Hylia, but that doesn't mean I don't like your traditional food."

"Oh, I'm sure there are!" Zelda attempted to leap up, but Urbosa waved her off.

"I'm fine on my own. But Riju chewed my ear off the whole way when she heard that you all got new stuff yesterday."

The girl in question quickly looked to the ground, her hands clamping her phone. She peeked at Zelda and then at Link when Urbosa had left the room. 

"Are you Zelda's boyfriend? Did you get her a gift, too?"

Zelda exchanged a glance with Link. Lying to a child felt wrong, but the truth was too complicated. 

"Link got me a pullover I've wanted since forever."

"A pullover? Buh, that's so boring. I hate it when my mom Nabs gives me clothes for our holidays."

Link had raised the baking book in front of him and chuckled unabashedly behind it. Zelda couldn't resist giving it a little push so that it hit his nose.

"Ouch!"

"He got me this book here, too."

Before she had finished her sentence, Riju had snatched the book from Link.

"Zelda is learning how to bake so I got her a good book for beginners." Link rubbed his nose dramatically and gave her a half-hearted side-glare. "I'm a baker, so I know which books are good."

"Well, I wouldn't want to bake something for you because it's impossible to impress you when you are a baker," Riju mumbled while she looked through the recipes.

Link leaned back and smiled at no one in particular. "I'm happy as long as it's made with love."

Riju rolled her eyes and Zelda chuckled. "Don't mind him. He loves being cheesy."

That earned her a punch in the side, but Riju didn't care for their antics and pointed at a picture of some cookies. "Oh, look at that! Any chance that you've made something for the holidays that I can try? I love sweets!"

Link leaned over the book. "Cookies? No. But I made chocolates for everybody. Ask Paya if she will share with you, she has some without liquor."

Riju closed the book with a snap. "Good idea! I wanted to ask her and Sidon for a favor anyway!" She wiggled her phone on her way out. "There is a holiday challenge in the ‘Lense of Truth’ community. Don't tell mom Nabs that I'm doing that, but since you are all in full Hylia's Day mode here, I thought I could participate, too!"

Zelda looked at Link in bewilderment when the door closed with a bang. "Any idea what she is talking about?"

"Lens of Truth is the new social network, Masks is practically dead for young folks."

"I know what Lens of Truth is," she retorted with no real venom in her voice. "I just have no idea what this challenge could be."

He shrugged. "Me neither, but I guess she’ll tell us."

"Maybe." Zelda sighed, her gaze traveling over the high shelves of her family library, finally settling on the baking book, then hopping to Link. "Do you think we have to go back to the living room to join the others?"

A snort and a sly grin was his answer.

"What?"

"Looking for excuses to put it off? I'm sure there are some poetry books here. If you think I'm so cheesy, snatch one and teach me better ways. Maybe you’ll bring out the literary man in me."

Well . With a pointed look she stood up to fetch a book. She dropped back on the hard 19th-century-settee next to him, leaving slightly less space between them. The spine cracked when she opened the book at a random page and so did she when he scooted closer until their knees touched. He was close enough that she could smell the herbal tea that she had made earlier for them on his breath and yet, she wanted him closer. 

“...To regain his strength. Fulfill his fate, ” Link spoke half-aloud. Right. They were reading. “You picked the tale of the Hero of the Wild.” He pointed out. “Now tell me that’s not a sappy love story.”

“It’s not! Imagine how she fought for him for a century and then he made his way back to her, slowly remembering what they meant to each other.”

“The hero, the princess/hand in hand/must bring the light back to this land— that’s the cheesiest line ever.”

The heat that radiated between their bodies settled slowly on Zelda’s cheeks. She had the urge to poke him, but she didn’t want him to move an inch away from her, so she only hissed, “You are evil because I picked it. It’s my favorite fairy tale and you aren’t going to change anything about that.”

She held her breath when he leaned in and pointed at another line. “Mine too. This is my favorite part: The princess's love for her fallen knight awakens her power.”

“Oh? Why?”

Before he could answer, the door flew open again and Riju marched up to them, her phone still in her hands.  

"Hey there, guys! Mom Urbosa asks if you can bring us and Robbie and Jerrin to the station, Zel?"

Zelda closed the book and laid it cautiously on the baking book. She couldn't wait to get out of here to finally have some real alone time with Link. 

"Hm. I would say we'll take you there on our way back, but we don't fit in the car with six people."

"I can stay here, don't worry," offered Link, "’I’ll just finish the book I'm reading. It's no problem. We’ll leave when you come back."

After some polite back and forth, Zelda agreed. She didn't want to sacrifice her drive back alone with Link anyway, not even for Urbosa.

"Ooooh, but before we go… about that challenge…" Riju dragged the words, bouncing from one leg to the other.

"Hm?"

"It's a kiss challenge."

"A what—" Zelda shifted alarmed, bumping accidentally against Link's knee.

"Yes, who gets the best kiss video of their relatives or friends wins." Riju beamed, her braces sparkling, but then her smile dropped. "I couldn't ask Paya and Sidon since she is feeling exhausted. Granté said they couldn't because Prima has to watch her PR." She rolled her eyes. "Your parents offered a short peck, but that's not it… well. And I'd rather not show you what Robbie and Jerrin did. So, it's up to you two." She pleaded with big, round eyes. "Please… just this once."

Zelda's mind raced during Riju's explanation, but she came up with—nothing. "Riju, we can't—"

"Exactly," Link interrupted her. "We can't let her down."

What?

He couldn’t be—she searched his eyes—he was serious. This was crazy! She wanted to kiss him for a while now, but like this? But it was too late. While his blue gaze had pulled her in like a magnet, she had already nodded. She watched the small, shy smile on his lips grow until he was too close to see his mouth. No. Not close enough. But then, he suddenly was and it was all softness and tea and Link. The tension of her shoulders left her when she let herself fall into the kiss, into the perfect pressure of his lips and maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t as crazy as she had thought. His hand cradled her cheek for the last parting of lips, for the last teasing for more behind his teeth that he didn’t let her have yet. He bumped his forehead against hers, his murmured “Wow” carrying over to her. 

Her lashes fluttered, but she pressed them shut, wanting nothing but yank him in for another one, to chase the ‘more’ he had refrained from giving her, to have him kiss her, love her for always and forevermore.

“Oh my! That’s it!” Riju cheered while Zelda slowly returned to the library. “I’m soooo going to win!”

“Zelda! Riju!”

“Oh, oops.” Riju laughed and slapped her while Zelda wasn’t even finished blinking. “We want to go now, I forgot to tell you.”

Urbosa appeared in the doorway, ushered them to go and Zelda followed in trance. Nearly outside the room, she turned back to Link and his mouth had turned into that small, shy smile again. She laid two fingers on her lips, his warmth still there, and whispered, “I’ll be right back.”

His smile grew.

Chapter Text

Day 20

He had kissed her. Yes, the circumstances had been less than ideal, but Link had thought so, so often about kissing her in the last few days, that he couldn’t help himself and just… took the opportunity. And she had kissed him back!

He tugged his collar up and snuggled further into the cover of the porch swing. Unlike yesterday, when the sun shone into the winter garden, the weather was overcast and cloudy today and the air was not nearly as warm. He had brought a lukewarm tea with him—the rest of what Zelda had made earlier for them—but he didn’t feel like drinking it yet. Too fresh the feeling of her mouth on his, too precious the taste of her lips on his.

Peals of laughter from the living room reached him—despite the cold, he didn’t want to close the door in case someone accidentally locked him out. He was being slightly unsocial, he knew that, but after the moment in the library, he preferred staring into the garden and not-reading the book on his lap over forced small-talk.

The look she gave him over her shoulder, fingertips on her lips, that had not been fake, had it? No, it couldn’t be. They had kissed. Nobody faked a kiss, right? Well, he hadn't left her much time to think, but still…

How long was she away? Half an hour, maybe? He needed to talk to her, to hear with her words that she felt the same flutter in her belly when she looked at him. It must be. He couldn't be wrong again. Not after all the mess with Ganondorf, where he had ignored his gut feeling telling him something was off when his ex began to trail off on the phone as if his focus was on something else. Or rather someone else, in this case. He felt around inside him for that sting of betrayal that accompanied him for so long over the last year, but he found nothing but fuzzy feelings. Breathing the cold air, he closed his eyes. Kissing her had been so… right.

Her family had been odd towards him, but she was not her family. Maybe they would warm up when they visited again. Maybe not. But that hardly mattered, they wouldn't visit every weekend when they had a whole city to discover together and so many kisses to share. Silently, he snorted to himself. Look at him, his head in the clouds before she even officially told him that his feelings were requited.

He popped his eyes open again because he couldn't tune out the voices from the living room. Maybe he should go back in, it couldn't be too long until Zelda came back and they would drive home. Finally, he took a large sip from his cold tea—and paused.

"I can't believe that she went through with that. Look at the poor boy, completely smitten."

"Yeah… the kiss was definitely over the top."

"I bet she has borrowed the suit for him," a female voice, probably Paya, added. 

"He could pull it off, though, he looked very handsome." Sidon. And they were talking about him. Link quietly sat down again, avoiding any rash movement to hinder the swing from squealing. 

"I didn't even catch his name." Link closed his eyes and could visualize Prima flipping her hair over her shoulder while she spoke. He should go in to interrupt them, but he stayed glued to his seat.

"Link," said Sidon. "I talked to him during dinner, he is nice."

"Hah, you are wasting your time, it's not that we'll see him again." The air in the winter garden turned frigid and Granté wasn't finished with his analysis. "She's toying with him like with all the others."

Link swallowed, harshly. There were not many ways to misunderstand what they were saying, but still, he stupidly clung to the smile Zelda had shot him when she left.

"I don't understand why she's doing that. Why break heart after heart for something as mundane as bread?" Paya heaved a sigh. "Remember that poet she organized herself as a fake-boyfriend for our wedding? He was so in love with her and for what?"

Link slumped, squeezing his eyes shut when the swing made a squeaking, metallic noise. 

He wasn't Zelda's first fake boyfriend. 

She hadn't asked him due to a string of circumstances, but because she did this every time she needed something she couldn't do herself. 

Burying his face in his hands, he tried to fight his tears. He was such an idiot. Everything had been fake from the start, just like the gifts she pretended to make herself. Mipha had warned him. She had warned him from exactly this scenario. Everything about her is fake, don't fall for her. And he? He had gotten entangled in the fluttering of her false lashes, her easy smile, and her pretended coyness. Like the soft-hearted idiot, that he was. 

Inside, they shared more stories about more escapades. 

“Oh, and don’t forget that artist! His paintings weren’t even good.”

“And that scholar she needed to translate the family history tome… wow.”

“I wonder if uncle Rhoam still buys it or if they’ve finally realized something is off.”

Link slipped further down the swing, fighting to maintain his composure, each sentence cutting to his core. This was why they had all been so uninterested in him. They knew it was fake. They had known it from the beginning. Maybe her parents were unaware, but they clearly didn't think it was something serious, probably because Zelda had brought a lot of "partners" back home over time. Not that it mattered, now.

Oh, he was so, so stupid. Again, he had ignored all signs. Even more than before! Mipha had taken him aside because she cared for him and he hadn't listened. He wanted it to be true and had made the same mistake all over again. 

With trembling hands and wobbly knees, he stood up and took his book. He needed to get out—there was nothing left for him here. His chest ached when he pushed the door open and his face burned. Granté, Prima, Paya, even Sidon, stood open-mouthed and they all followed him with their eyes when he put his chin high and stalked through the living room.

He called a cab and fetched his stuff, leaving the suit for Zelda to return to the shop. She should be here shortly anyway and he’d tell her then, that she could put down her facade. He had been the only one who had believed it anyway.

Outside, the grey of the gravel of the front yard mingled with the grey of the sky. His coat did little to shield him from the brisk wind that blew in his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He breathed, in and out, and it was not the cold air that pained his chest. No. 

The sting was back.

Chapter Text

Day 21

When Zelda finally turned into the driveway of her parents, she wanted nothing more than to leave again as soon as possible. Robbie had dropped another remark about her marital status (or better the lack of it) and even Urbosa's solitary eye roll couldn't lift her spirits.

So it was a good thing that Link already stood ready to go in the front yard. 

Wait, what? Why did he prefer to freeze here in the cold waiting for her when there was a perfectly warm house to stay in? 

She slammed the door of her car shut and hurried over to him.

"Hey, so eager to leave? Let me just snatch my stuff and we are out."

"Waiting for my cab."

"Your cab just arrived." She chuckled, but the laugh turned sour on her tongue when he didn't react. When she tried to clasp his arm, he turned away. "Link? What's up?"

"Oh, your fake boyfriend happened to overhear a little conversation of your family about you and me."

Cautiously, Zelda stepped back to give him space. Hylia knew he needed it the way he gave her a long, pained look before he stared down the yard again.

"What—what did they say? I can go in and tell them off if that helps?"

His eyes didn't return to her when he spoke. "What was your boyfriend's name at Paya's wedding?"

Zelda shook her head in confusion. "My what? What are you talking about? Link, please. Just tell me what's up."

"Paya and Sidon's wedding. What was your boyfriend's name?"

"I—I didn't have a boyfriend! I told you I've been single for years. Link, seriously, let's just drive home and—"

"The poet."

"The… poet?"

Finally, he returned his eyes to her, his gaze so scathing that her whole body shuddered. She pulled her coat closed and swallowed.

"I'm not sure. Perry, I think. It's been a while and we weren't… well. It was fake."

"Oh, was it? Now that's interesting."

"Link." She reached for him, but he stepped back. "I—I can answer everything you want to know on the way home, alright? Let's get out of the cold."

He tugged his collar. "No need for that. Just answer my questions right here and I'm out of your hair in no time at all. How many were there?"

Zelda wasn't quite sure what he meant, but she didn't dare to ask. The cold winter air came out of his nose in white puffs, quickly, and he gritted his teeth. She was on very thin ice and he gave her the impression that the next misstep would be the last. What exactly did her family say that he was so upset? 

"How many fake boyfriends did you have over the years?" he clarified, his tone harsh like a frozen waterfall.

Oh. Her eyes fell close and clutching the front of her coat, she searched for words to soothe him. “I can’t tell you an exact number. It’s… Some friends helped me out.”

That was the wrong thing to say. It was palpable how his mood dropped even further—a flush crept up his face.

“Like me. Well, I guess it was ridiculously easy to convince me, so that’s on me.” He kicked his boot into a nearby chunk of snow before he narrowed his eyes on her. “And it never occured to you that I might have wanted to know that fake dating is your hobby? That your whole family knows that you love dragging guys here to pretend stuff?”

Zelda wished the gravel-snow-mixture under her feet was quicksand that pulled her under. Her… her family knew? Link still stared. And her stupid mind had nothing better to do than weighing up if she had to go in for her stuff or if she just could take Link’s hand and run to the end of the world with him to avoid the humiliation that waited inside the house. Right. The problem was that Link didn’t want to because she had managed to put off the only person who really understood her. And she kept saying the wrong things, because she didn’t know how to handle his anger after he had shown her nothing but understanding, kindness, and honesty.

“The fake dating, it was your idea,” she whispered, the words clunky on her tongue when he sucked in a sharp breath. “I wanted to talk to you after we were out here and I—”

Link interrupted her, “Like you told your relatives that you didn’t make their gifts yourself? Oh, you might have forgotten to do that.” He leaned forward, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “Whoopsie.”

“No, it’s not—it’s different with you!” she finally choked out. 

His laugh was as sharp and cold as the wind that tugged on their hair.

“Sure.”

Horrified, Zelda spun around when the sound of crunching gravel and an engine announced the arrival of a cab. No! Time was slipping through her fingers, no Link was slipping through her fingers. She needed to make him understand that she cared about him! Why was she so unable to get the right words out?

After Link had nodded to the driver, he stored his luggage in the trunk, his hands lingering a moment before he smashed the lid close. “Keep the gifts, I don’t want them back. I have no use for them anyway.”

Zelda closed the distance between them with quick steps, shoving the embarrassment about the show they gave the driver away. “Link, wait. Please,” she begged. “I’m sorry if I misled you. That was not my intention.”

“One, Zelda." He held his gloved index up. "I have one condition when it comes to rel—friendships. And you still managed to miss it.”

“I’m very sorry that a failure like me can't meet your standards,” she snapped, her emotions quickly shifting from despair to anger and back. “Just know that I never lied to you. I thought it would be nice if you came with me for the holidays and then you immediately proposed to be my fake boyfriend. I just… I don’t know. I rolled with it because I’m a coward.”

Link shook his head and opened the door of the cab, ignoring her when she reached for him. Inside, he lowered the window and waited until she was brave enough to make eye contact again. 

“Maybe it’s true that you never lied. But you left me in the dark about something that I should have known." He closed his eyes, breathed. "I—I can’t tell what is fake and what is real, Zelda. And that is not what I want.”

She wanted to yank the door open, grab him by the shoulders, and shake him. Scream at him. Kiss him—whatever would bring back the playful, understanding man she had fallen for in the last few weeks. But Link tapped the seat of the driver, the engine started, and he had closed the window before the car had even left the front yard.

Zelda forced words through the lump in her throat which promptly ended in hot tears on her ice-cold cheeks. He couldn't hear the words, never would, but she whispered them anyway, hoping against better knowledge that he would round the corner with an easy smile on his lips, waving her failure off.

"Nothing was fake, Link, nothing."

Chapter Text

Day 22

Link had known that he was unfair to Zelda the moment the window of the cab closed with a smack. He hadn't given her the time to properly explain herself, but she hadn't tried very hard either, so maybe it didn't matter.

Hour after hour ticked by and she didn't call. And why would she? Just to clear things up with someone she didn’t care about anyway? With someone she never planned to take another look at after her plan was successful? 

Once he was home, he didn't take the time to unpack—he started stress-baking immediately. Only halfway through mixing chocolate chips in the dough, he groaned when it hit him that the cookies reminded him of Riju. And Riju reminded him of kissing Zelda. Everything reminded him of kissing Zelda. He turned the radio off when they played three songs in a row that had lines hitting a bit too close to home. The smell of the heated oven? Teasing Zelda in his bakery until she kissed him on the cheek. He couldn't even look out of the window without seeing her in the empty Beedle's Street. Of course, she wasn't there because today was still a holiday and she didn't work. And he doubted that she would ever set a foot in his bakery again. Not after he had called her out like this and cut her off before she could utter a half-hearted excuse. 

He didn’t know what to think anymore. Was it really him who had proposed the fake dating? And more importantly, was it true that she had wanted to ask him to accompany him? And did it matter now? 

With sticky fingers, he unlocked his phone again, only to find her last message from before.

'Don't worry, I'll pick you up! Looking forward to the holidays with you and thank you again!'

He should just write, 'I'm sorry for being rude. Let's talk tomorrow.'

It was true, he felt sorry for the sour note he had struck. But what would come of another conversation? She would explain to him that she suffered from the pressure of being the perfect daughter and that she had seen no other way to cope. And then? Maybe she would apologize and they would leave it at that. But what if she still came to the bakery? Proposed to stay friends? Wouldn't that mean he would carry on like before? That she could do what she wanted with him? No, it was not on him to initiate anything as much as his heart ached at the thought of not hearing from her again.

When the cookies were ready, he couldn't eat thanks to his lack of appetite. Half-heartedly, he trudged through his apartment, poking at this and that. In the end, he couldn't postpone unpacking any longer, and now, he hovered with the theater tickets over the trash can. 

He could picture the two of them and each image was another fist in his stomach. Maybe they would rent another fancy suit for him. Zelda would have piled her hair in a complicated updo, her eyes sparkling with eye-shadow and fondness for him. They would stroll through the foyer of the theater, arms hooked under and giggling about the lady at the bar who had the exact same goggles as Auntie Purah. They would hold hands and curse the armrest of the seats between them during the representation.

With a broken sigh and trembling fingers, he closed the lid of the trash can and pinned the tickets to his bulletin board. He had told her that he would have given Ganondorf a second chance if he had been upright with him—not that his ex ever bothered with that option, but still. Didn’t she deserve a second chance, too? He was on his way to harden his heart against the cruelty of the world, to cast everyone out because he had been hurt. Was that what he wanted?

While he rummaged through the drawer with his boxes, he made a decision. If she could convince him somehow that it was different with him, he wouldn’t reject her. The possibility that she hadn’t faked everything was still there. It hadn’t felt like faking at all. They had talked about so much, and all the hugs, and skies above that kiss! Mipha had told him that Zelda had ignored the guy she had been with at the wedding. But Zelda hadn’t ignored him. On the contrary. Again and again, she had searched for his closeness. She hadn’t held back her emotions. Even her secret about the gifts she had shared with him! That was very different from forgetting someone at the church.

Glaring at his ever silent phone, he stacked the cookies up in a large cookie jar. Maybe he should stop diving headfirst into more excuses—his head was already spinning. 

If he was home early, he could at least use the time and spend Nana a visit and save himself a staring contest with a black display.

———

It had been a while since Zelda was so miserable. She couldn’t even tell what the lowlight of her day after Link’s departure had been so far. The way her whole family shook her head about her, judging her without words when she ran up the stairs to fetch her luggage? To stuff Link’s suit in her trunk, the poorly cleaned stains of her makeup still laughing at her for thinking she managed to get someone to like her how she was? Or the drive back when silence instead of confessions, giggles, and blushes pressed down on her? She couldn't tell.

Now, she stood in front of the mirror in her small apartment, asking herself what she had in common with the tired woman in front of her. Her parents had exaggerated expectations of her, yes, but when had her time with them become a chase to be even more perfect? When had the invasive questions of her aunts and uncles shifted into the thought that she wasn't enough when she didn't pretend? When had the life goals of her cousins become pressure although she didn't even share some of them? What was the next step, borrowing a kid from her workmates and pretending it was her own just to keep up?

Link had been right about so much—she shouldn't let all these things influence her so heavily. Maybe he was right about that last comment, too. Did she still know the difference between reality and fake? The lie towards Paya that she had made the blanket herself—it had poured so easily out of her fingers, so effortlessly.

She had allowed only one person to see behind all these facades—Link. Nothing had been a lie towards him. Sure, she hadn't told him about her former attempts to cover her lacking skills and she should have done that. It had seemed unimportant to her, because it was often nothing too serious, only someone helping her out for an afternoon or evening.

The only exceptions were the weddings. She had no excuses here—she had unabashedly taken advantage of Perry’s (Percy’s?) offer to accompany her and play her fake boyfriend as well as a few others. And somehow her family had realized that something was off and assumed every guy in her life must have been a fake boyfriend, or that was at least what Link had overheard. What a mess. She could understand how it upsetted him. How could he not think he was replaceable like all the others? He wasn’t aware how much of herself he had seen, but it had been so refreshing not having to pretend for once. He had seen her vulnerable side and she had shared thoughts about her work and hobbies with him. He didn't know that, couldn't know it. She had been open with him like she hadn’t been with anybody for years, triggered by his own honesty. 

Her gaze narrowed on her eyes in the mirror. Maybe it was time for the real Zelda. The one who couldn't cook a stew to save her life. Who was terrible with names and couldn't get the right words out during a fight. The one who didn't wear shapewear to cover the results of her addiction to a certain baker’s cupcakes.

With pointed fingers, she ripped her false lashes off her eyelids and tossed them in the trash can. He said he preferred a messed-up partner? After drowning a cotton ball in her cleanser, she wiped the eye-shadow, the blush, and the makeup from her face until her skin had red spots. She met her gaze in the mirror with a lopsided smirk. Now that was a standard she could meet easily and she had just the right idea to apologize to him.

Chapter Text

Day 23

The next day, Link had baked another three loads of cookies, a pie, and a tray full of baguettes. And maybe he had switched from appetite loss to eating out of frustration. From this cookie, however, he only managed to get a bite.

Unbelieving, he scrambled to his feet when his gaze flickered into Beedle's Street once more. Smoke!? 

Why was there dark smoke coming out of the backdoor of his bakery? 

He had never been in his shoes and coat so fast.

Not a minute later, he yanked said door open and began to cough through the thick air. "Mipha! What in Hylia's name are you doing here?" His workmate had volunteered to take the morning shift in case he got home late after his holidays, but he had not expected her to make a mess. 

Fresh air flowed into the back room, but before he could make out the scene in front of him, a voice ordered him around. "Can you hold this?" And just like this, he was clutching onto a bowl before he could get a word out. "Oh, Goddess, is that you, Link? You weren't supposed to be here for another hour!"

"Zelda?!"

"Uh…"

Link quickly shut his mouth and tugged strands of loose hair behind his ear.

"Zelda… I—I know I've been rude, but… THAT IS NO EXCUSE TO COMMIT ARSON IN MY BAKERY!"

"I didn't—I'm making—it was an accident!"

Link shook himself out of his stupor and went back to close the door. Zelda seemed to have the source of the smoke under control, at least there weren't any more dark clouds pouring out of the oven. He glanced into the bowl he still had in his hand. Frosting. Or… something like that. Putting it onto a free space on his counter, he crossed his arms and faced Zelda.

"Okay… what are you doing here? In my bakery? Who let you in?"

Zelda shoved a plate with a very dark… thing over the counter and snatched the bowl with the frosting. "A surprise. As… as an apology." Sheepishly, she glanced over her work to him. "Mipha let me in."

Link did a double-take. "Mipha?!"

"Yes… I explained to her what had happened. Everything." She waved with the tool she used for applying the frosting, sprinkling the whole workplace with white drops. He bit his tongue so that he didn't correct her that she couldn't apply frosting on a hot cake. "We talked for a long time and she let me in because she said she wasn't keen to get another earful from you." Zelda chuckled and applied the frosting, mixing it accidentally with black crumbs. "Did you know that she’s Sidon's sister?"

"Yes, actually."

His gaze followed her attempt to apply frosting to the sides of the cake. Well, it was more smacking it against the cake and hoping for the best.

"Seriously, Zelda, why are you here?"

Her gaze flickered over to the open baking book without really taking a look at anything before it reluctantly settled on him. "Uh… I… I wanted to apologize for…" She sighed and rested the spatula against the cake. "For keeping my history from you. I didn't realize it would be that important to you, but I understand why it's upsetting."

"Okay. And the… cake?"

She smeared frosting over her cheek, and now that she brought Link's attention to her face… she looked different today. More self-confident, like she was at exactly the place she wanted to be. He decided not to comment on her lack of make-up.

"Well, it was planned as a surprise, but… I wanted to…" She trailed off again. "Sorry. I had a whole speech prepared, but now I'm confused."

Link snorted and handed her a smaller bowl with decorations. "I can go and talk to Mipha until you're ready."

"No! I'm happy that you’re here, please don't run off again."

"Yeah, about that… I'm sorry, too. I should have given you the time to explain yourself."

Zelda nodded, but her attention was elsewhere. She fished a slightly squishy wildberry out of the bowl, placed it on the cake, and made a revealing hand gesture. "Tadaa!" 

Scrutinizing the image in her book next, she muttered, "Well. The result never looks like the pictures because they use wax and such for the photos, right?" She perked up again. "Do you have forks?"

"Sure."

Link turned to fetch some and came back to Zelda, who presented one piece of the cake on a small plate.

"I wanted to surprise you with something that I've made myself. Unlike all the other gifts. To… to prove that I care about you and that—oh will you look at this disaster."

The cake crumbled into several smaller pieces, and Zelda was quick to put it down again. "Forget about the cake. What I want to say is that I faked nothing that was between us. That was all the real, messed up, little me.”

Relief flowed through Link’s veins and replaced the sour feeling in his stomach. All their flirting, the closeness and togetherness—she had felt it, too. Thank Hylia. But he wouldn’t let her get away without a little tease.

"You faked nothing?” he asked. “Not even curling up in my arm at night?" 

"Uh, not faked."

Link leaned closer. "And the kiss? Fake or not?"

She cleared her throat, looked him in the eyes before her gaze flickered away again and she began to draw circles on the frosting with the fork. "Not—not fake. Especially not the kiss."

"Especially not, you say?" Link smirked and stepped up to her, trapping her between him and the counter. In a sudden rush of boldness, he raised her chin with the back of his fork, oh, and he couldn't get enough of her green gaze burning into his. She blushed violently when he leaned in, coming so close that their legs touched and their faces were merely inches away. 

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Tasting my apology cake." He sneaked his fork behind her, leaning in until their breaths mingled, and pierced a big chunk without looking. He balanced it all the way to his mouth and tried to keep his face straight while he chewed the odd mixture of overripe wildberry, burned and simultaneously raw cake, and too warm frosting. 

"And?"

His sugar-smudged mouth turned into a grin and he didn't miss how her gaze lingered on his lips and her tongue darted out to wet her own. 

"Definitely not fake," he stated.

She drove her hands over the front edge of his coat, resting one close to his pounding heart and moving the other to his neck. 

"Just—just kiss me already," she whispered, reducing the space between them until the warmth of her renewed blush hit his cheeks.

"Someone doesn’t like teasing? Shouldn’t have told m—" 

She didn't let him finish. With a swift tug on his coat, she urged him to close the gap between them and he all too willingly obliged. The silent sigh of relief that came from both of them was lost in their shared breath. Eventually, she pulled back and rested her forehead against his, smacking her lips.

"The cake. It tastes awful." She chuckled, biting her lip to catch a smudge of frosting from her bottom lip with her teeth. He shrugged, leaning in for another kiss. "I don't mind," he muttered, now serious. "You made it for me."

"I thought I needed a little more than words."

"I’m sorry for being so rash yesterday." He sighed and kissed a sugary spot from the corner of her mouth. "I guess my faith in relationships took more damage than I thought."

"Link." She traced his lips with her thumb, causing his lashes to flutter. "I will tell you every little tale I made up if you want that. You were the first to look behind my facade in years and I will share everything else, too, if that's what you need to make this work."

"Thank you…" he breathed.

"No. Thank you for reminding me what is important and what isn’t.”

He tugged her in his arms and she melted against him like the whipped cream he put in her coffee. Smiling, he stuck his nose into her messy bun. “I like the woman who can’t braid dough and gets flustered when I tease her. Who loves robot jokes and hugs.”

“I always told myself, ‘next week I’m asking him out’ when I came in to get my breakfast.” She chuckled into the collar of his coat. “And once I realized that you might like me and not a twisted version of me, it was too late for me anyway.”

Link hummed, squeezed her, and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s go in the front room and drink a coffee. I still have an hour until my shift starts and I shouldn’t be in here with my street clothes anyway.”

Zelda nodded and changed out of her work coat once he had let go of her. Before they slipped through the door to the café, Link grabbed the plate with the cake.

“Link, just let it be. It’s awful, we can’t eat that.”

“You bet I can,” he said and held the door open for her. “My girlfriend made it for me and I wouldn’t swap it for anything in the world.” When she took his face in both hands and kissed him plain on the lips, he added, “I just might need a really big coffee to wash it down.”

Chapter Text

Day 24

When Zelda had given him the tickets on Hylia’s Day, Link had imagined the theater to be a lot fancier. He wasn’t sure why, since the tickets themselves were plain enough with their dark red and black color scheme and a comedic murder mystery wasn’t exactly the State Opera House. Nonetheless, he had been slightly embarrassed when Zelda laughed at him because he asked if he needed his suit. Well. Maybe it was more that he had been flustered because she had hugged him from behind, her nose gently nudging his ponytail aside, and she had pressed her lips on his nape, whispering, “A button-down is enough.” She liked to do that, and, spirits, was he a sucker for her neck kisses. When she dragged her lips over the skin of his neck on that spot, there wasn't much he wouldn't do if she asked.

"We serve lemonade or beer," a lean young man behind the bar of the theater brought Link back and he blinked. "Everything in bottles. You just bring them back when you go." Ahem. Maybe it was not the time to think about Zelda making him dizzy with kisses. 

"Uh… I'll take two lemonades." Did Zelda drink beer? Maybe not, she had always stuck to wine or soft drinks, but with this woman, he could never be sure. Only this evening, when he picked her up, she had surprised him once more. He had seen her in an evening gown, lab clothes, and rarely in a hoodie, but her black knit dress and her over-knee boots had given her "casual" remark a whole new meaning. 

On his way back to their places, he nearly bumped into another guest. Oh, he was daydreaming of her again, but what could he do? He was smitten with his girlfriend and there was nothing he could do about it—not that he wanted to do something. No, they were happy and he wouldn't mind if time just stopped. 

It was a few weeks into the new year and they had spent most of their free time together. More and more, they gave up on going home on the weekend nights and simply spent the complete time together—like this weekend. 

Humming the tune that the little band played whenever the suspension picked up, he made his way through the rows. The theater was in an old cellar, hidden under a historical building. Zelda had said something about an old dye shop, but he had only half-listened, too amazed by the wide arcades illuminated by dark red lights. It was so big, he would nearly call it a dungeon. The location was unusual and so were the seats. Instead of neat rows of plush chairs, they had set up a mixture of sofas and chaise lounges, interrupted occasionally with a tea table. Thankfully, during the break, the room was additionally illuminated by torches (electric, of course), so he could locate their places. 

He had just squeezed himself past a particular big sofa when he stopped with a frown. Who was that guy kneeling in front of Zelda? His smile was a bit too sweet for his liking. Well, and he was a little too pretty with his long silver when he was on it. Whoa, whoa, whoa, and why on Hylia's green earth was he giving his girlfriend a hand kiss?!? 

Link gripped the bottles in his hands harder. He should just go over and greet them. It was probably nothing. Just an old acquaintance, maybe. Dragging his feet, he didn't let them out of his sight. The man dropped on his place and stretched his arm casually on the backrest, half hugging her.

Link gulped. Hard. He did trust Zelda. She was not Ganondorf and her opinion about cheating matched his own. 

This situation meant nothing. Nothing. He hurried his steps nonetheless when the man leaned in to chat with her. Sidestepping through the row, he reached them. Oh, yes, too sweet and too pretty.

"Link!"

His gaze flashed to Zelda and he nearly dropped the bottles in relief when he saw that she sat on the edge of the couch, her back as straight as possible to avoid leaning into the man's touch. 

"Hey. Lemonade is it. They don't have wine." He lifted the drinks.

She was quick on her feet, glued herself to his side, and took her beverage with a bright smile.

"Thank you." She pointed with the bottom of her bottle between them. "Link, this is Perry. He is a poet and a drama critic, we know each other from a university friend. Perry, this is Link, my boyfriend."  

Poet… Perry… oh, oh! One of her ex-fake-boyfriends. The clingy one, if he wasn't mistaken. Link grinned and pulled her even closer. "Nice to meet you, Perry. I hope you won't write anything bad about the play, I love it. I think we might even get an annual ticket."

Perry scoffed. "It's a bit amateurish." And while Zelda argued, this was the charm about it, Perry's gaze flickered to her left hand that clutched Link's waist.

"Well, well," he said and stood up, "as long as I don't see a sparkling ring on your finger, Zelda, there is still hope for me to have a beauty like you at my side."

Zelda gasped in annoyance, but Link wouldn't want to have any of it. 

"Ah, it's not official yet, but we have concrete plans already. So, don't get your hopes up."

Growling, the man disappeared and Link turned to Zelda who gaped at him.

"Hm?"

"Since when do we have concrete plans to get married? Didn't we both agree that we don't want to rush that topic?" She wasn't mad, thankfully, more… confused.

"Uhm, well. I thought a little fakery would be the quickest way to get rid of him. And I have concrete plans to ask you one day."

Her unbelieving look turned quickly into a fit of laughter and she snorted into his shirt. "Seriously, faking things is a terrible habit. You were not supposed to pick that up."

"Oops." Link grinned at her.

Two gongs announced the end of the break and they snuggled on their couch once more, eagerly awaiting the second part of the play. With his face so close to her hair, the earlier scare came back to Link. He squeezed her and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent.

"Link," she whispered, "are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just… I just had a moment of panic earlier when I saw him kissing your hand. But I'm okay, I know I can trust you."

She shifted in his arms until she made eye contact with him. Smiling softly, she stroked her fingers along his hairline. No matter how much he loved the play, this was a sight he could enjoy all night.

"Link, I know you've been hurt and I can't hinder your thoughts from straying. But I can guide them back, again and again." She stretched to kiss him. "You are right, you can trust me. I had enough opportunities like him in the last few years." She nodded in the direction where Perry had departed. "I never took them because it's not what I wanted. He said he adored me but he never bothered to listen when I talked about my interests. He wasn't overly happy about my rejection, as you may have noticed."

"Okay…" he whispered into her hair. "Thank you."

She leaned back at his chest again. Right before the first actor tumbled dramatically on stage with a plastic knife in his back, she whispered, "I have concrete plans to say yes, by the way."

He smiled and closed his eyes. Sometimes, illusions were worth looking behind. 

You might find a treasure chest.

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Day 25 — Epilogue

"How do I look?" Zelda laid one hand on her waist and swayed her hips so that her long evening gown glittered in the dim light of the hotel room like water breaking on a cobble. 

"Like a movie star." Link smiled through the mirror at her, adjusting his bow tie. 

Zelda rolled her eyes until her lashes touched the skin of her eyelids. "I know you prefer me in a hoodie, but could you at least pretend to look?"

Chuckling, Link turned towards her and rested his hands over hers. His thumbs rubbed over the slick fabric and he pulled her closer, brushing his nose over her cheek until her skin tingled. "I love all of your facets, Zelda, no matter if you wear a hoodie, an evening gown, or those brown leggings. You know which."

A giggle escaped her when he breathed a kiss on the tip of her ear. Yes, she knew which. But what she tucked away in her heart was not a remark about her clothes, but that the word 'love' slipped out of his mouth again. They hadn't said the magic words yet, but they would, soon , she could sense it on the horizon with how often it cracked through their everyday language.

Now, Link nibbed on her earlobe and she sucked a breath in. "Stop that or we'll be late!"

Shrugging, he let go of her, but not before whispering in her ear, "You wanted me to look at you."

"Fair." She brushed not-existing dust from the shoulders of his dark blue suit and offered her hand so that they could finally go. "Nervous?"

Frowning, he met her gaze. "Because of the cake? I bake wedding cakes every weekend in the summer season."

"Not because of the cake, silly. Because of my family!"

"Ah, that. No. I just hope no one is going to be mad or something, I don't want to ruin the fun for Granté and Prima."

"I wrote +1 onto the answer." Zelda shrugged, knowing very well that this was not what he meant.

The elevator that brought them to the reception jingled and they walked over to the gardens.

"And you are sure that they don't know of me? Maybe Mipha has told Sidon."

"We'll see."

They rounded the corner and her father nearly dropped his champagne glass when he spotted them. With much effort, Zelda forced the rising giggle back into her stomach.

After the disaster that was the end of the holidays, Zelda had kept the interactions with her family short. Not only was she fed up with their questions and judgments, but she was too busy being happy with Link, too. They hadn't visited yet and with the first family event being Granté and Prima's wedding, the last her family knew was their… unfortunate departure. 

It was difficult to say who received more incredulous looks, Zelda or Link. Zelda made her round of greetings with a big show of hugs and kisses while Link stuck to polite handshakes, hardly suppressing his grin. Robbie was too slow to hide the 'what' gesture he made towards Zelda's parents, but Zelda only shot him her best smile. Paya shook Link's hand as automatically as she rocked the empty baby buggy beside her—Sidon must be in the restroom, changing the diapers of the baby. Fortunately, Granté and Prima were too busy with the row of well-wishers to take a second look at them.

Very much in contrast to the rest of the family.

Beaming like the morning sun, Zelda took two glasses of champagne for them from a waiter while she waited for someone to say something. The distant jazz tune from the band on the other side of the garden remained the only sound until she clinked her glass with Link. Immediately, she took a large sip to avert her eyes from him—he was keeping it together even worse than her and if she looked at his flashing eyes and the twitching corners of his mouth a second longer, she might burst into laughter right here.

Since all eyes were on them anyway, she made a sweeping gesture. "You need to admire the wedding cake. I would say we've outdone ourselves, right, Link?"

"We?" He laughed.

"Oh, you hush! The Loftwing's eggs are the real star of the cake, you said that yourself." And most importantly, it had been the only task she managed to accomplish, but of course, Link would never hold the little tease against her.

"Is… is she doing it again?" Robbie's muffled voice carried over to them.

"Zelda?" her father asked, stroking his beard in confusion. "I thought… well, we all were under the impression…"

"That Link and I were only faking when we visited? Like I did with the others?"

Her parents exchanged a glance before her father cleared his throat. "Yes."

Link silently reached for her hand and squeezed, reassuring her. He had done so much in that regard for her and he had encouraged her to clear the air with her family, too. She took a breath and started.

"We were not together yet when we visited, but I can't say it was fake either." Link snorted and she shot him a quick smile. "I'm sorry about the rest. It was unfair to you all. You… you are all so incredibly successful that I found myself lacking."

"But Zelda, little bird, you are not!" her mother interrupted, grabbing her arm. 

"I know that now, Link helped me a lot there. But sometimes it's hard to be around so many perfect people that I just… pretended to be perfect, too."

"You… felt compelled to lie to us." Her father rubbed his forehead and pressed his lips in a bitter smile.

Zelda grabbed both Link's hand and her glass harder. "I'm sorry. I never meant that it escalated like this, but it was so much pressure. Everybody is so successful or happily married or having cute babies—everybody has it together but me."

"Zelda." Paya's voice behind her was only a whisper. Zelda spun around, letting go of Link's hand. "Do you know the reason why we didn't invite everyone to see our daughter?"

Slowly, Zelda shook her head.

"I was dealing with postnatal depression. I didn't want to see anyone. It's been only a few weeks that I'm better."

"Oh." Zelda blinked her tears away. "I didn't know."

"Ah, and we…" Robbie scrunched his face. "We had marriage counseling a few years ago because Jerrin thought I'm still thinking of Che—well, we are over it now."

"You? But you two are always so…" Zelda shook her head. 

"Ah," her father added, "and your mom and I fight—"

"Discuss!"

"—every evening how we can solve the problem that we don't have someone to take over the family company."

"Because I'm not able." Zelda tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but it was hard.

"No." Her father smiled softly at her. "Because you don't want to and we accept that you chose another path." He opened his arms for Zelda. "Come here, little bird. Nobody in this family is perfect and nobody has to. I'm not sure where we went wrong, but we'll fix that together."

The others murmured encouragement and for a moment Zelda just left everything in the embrace of her father—she could redo her eye makeup later.

“We'll stay overnight, maybe we can talk more tomorrow morning,” she mumbled into his massive frame when he patted her back.

“We will. Stop worrying, darling. To be honest, your mom and I were probably the last to realize that something is off. We just thought you couldn’t decide on a boyfriend before the others told us that you—well. It’s in the past now.” He finally released her. Clearing his throat, he turned and offered a handshake to Link who stood there, looking nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "Link was it, yes? I assume we didn't leave the best impression. I apologize."

"It's alright. We'll just start from here." Link smiled. Of course, he did because he was the most soft-hearted, understanding, and kindest boyfriend Zelda could have ever imagined. 

"Very well." Her father smiled back and gestured towards the rest of the party where Robbie and the others had long strolled off to. "I believe there's a cake to show off?"

"Oh, yes, please explain everything to me, I’ve always been fascinated by the hidden meaning of all the figures," Zelda's mother declared and clapped her hands. "And you baked it, Zelda?"

Zelda chuckled when she interlaced her hand with Link's. "No. I helped. A tiny bit. I'll show you."

The cake had its own table even with a spotlight so that Zelda could already see it when they zigzagged through the other guests. 

Patiently, Link explained the meaning of the figures that were carefully arranged on the levels of the cake. On top, of course, Hylia and her Hero in a dramatic pose symbolizing the everlasting love that was wished for the newlyweds. Just when Zelda took over to explain the Loftwing's eggs she had formed, Granté threw his arms on Link's and her shoulders from behind and popped his head between them. 

"Hey, Zel! I heard the news from Paya!" Turning to Link he added, "I assume we owe the cake to you? No way Zel did a masterpiece like that."

"Ey!" Zelda poked him and laughed. 

"What? It's true." Granté grinned. "Prima is obsessed with the cake. Good work, lad, it's not easy to impress her."

"You are welcome." Link smiled and to Zelda's relief, he seemed more at ease as he had been even in the best moments at her parent's house. Granté's grin grew and he let go of her to clasp Link's hand, leaning in to bump his shoulder into his.

"Guess I have to learn your name after all, huh? Link was it?"

"Yup."

"Welcome to this wonderful family, Link." He pulled him even closer so that Zelda could barely hear his next words. "And if you make Zel unhappy, I'm going to break your legs."

"Granté!" Zelda cried, half laughing, but Link only laughed too, gave Granté a fist bump on his shoulder and they released each other.

Without hesitation, Link snatched her wrist and tugged her in his arm, saying, "I wouldn't dare."

Already walking backward, Granté pointed his fingers at them—a gesture not unlike his father Robbie's trademark move—and exclaimed, "I like you. You can stay."

Zelda pulled Link in for a kiss and whispered, "I have no plans to let you go, anyway."

When she brought a little space between them, he shook with suppressed laughter. Frowning, she asked, "What?"

"That's good because I can't resistor you."

Hearing his silly robot pun, she tried a glare but it didn't go well. "Stop pushing my buttons or I'll change my mind!"

Laughing, he kissed her. "You won't."

"No.” She smiled. “I won't."

***************

Psst, this story has a mini-sequel here!

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Recipe Loftwing’s nests

465 g/16.4 oz wheat flour 

25 g/0.88 oz rye flour

170 g/6 oz water

125 g/4.4 oz whole milk

10 g/0.35 oz salt

0,5 g/0.018 oz yeast (yes, that is correct!) 

10 g/0.35 oz butter

10g/0.35 oz sugar

The creator of this recipe, Lutz Geißler, has developed a special method to prepare the dough perfectly without a stand mixer and with very little equipment. Due to copyright reasons, I won’t share that with you, but if you are interested (and understand enough German), check his book “Brot backen in Perfektion mit Hefe” out. I adapted the recipe for the “Handsemmel” for the Loftwing’s nest. I highly recommend his blog, too, that might be easier to translate anyway and you’ll find over 1000 recipes for bread and rolls. His skill is unmatched in my opinion and the recipes are easy to follow if you don’t start with the most complicated!

So, we just do it like Zelda would and throw all the ingredients in the stand mixer. Let the dough knead for 3 minutes, put it in a bowl with a lid, and forget about it for 20-24 hours. 

Preheat the oven to 220°C (425°F). This is important, the rolls need the full heat immediately when you put them in. If you have, preheat a pizza stone, if not a baking sheet will also do. Make sure you have an additional backing sheet at the bottom of the oven—you need that to steam the nests later. (So you preheat either two baking sheets or a pizza stone and a baking sheet)

Cut off nine equal pieces of dough. Take one and divide it once more. Roll both pieces into a rope and twist it like this:

Roll the twisted braid into something that looks remotely like a nest. Let them rise again until the oven has reached the correct temperature (or a little longer, they’ll only get better if you don’t forget about them for several hours).

Now you quickly put your nests into the oven. If you have, take a peel so that you can work quicker and limit the heat that escapes the oven. Pour a cup of water on your additional hot baking sheet (not the one with the nests!) and close the oven. Bake everything for 20 minutes until it looks like that:

Enjoy!

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