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Chapter Text

CH1

The moment Zelda's feet touched the ground, Link was already sprinting toward her. Relief flooded through him- she didn't look injured, ghostly blue flames didn't surround her, and she was here. 

Zelda turned around and looked at him with confusion. 

"May I ask... who are you?"

Link could only stare at her in confusion. What did she mean 'who are you'? Didn't she know him?

The realization hit him. 

"Do you remember anything?" he asked carefully. She shook her head. 

The world lurched beneath him for the third time that day. "I'm your..." her what? Her knight? Her friend? The person that failed her? He didn't know how to finish the sentence.  

Then she swayed, her knees buckling.

“Zelda!”

He lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the ground. Panic surged through him as he knelt, cradling her against his chest.

His fingers pressed against her wrist- her pulse was steady. He leaned closer, his ear hovering near her lips. She was breathing. Shallow, but steady.

Relief crashed into him, but it was fleeting. She still wasn’t waking up.

Fumbling with his pouch, he yanked out a small vial of fairy tonic. Uncorking it with his teeth, he carefully tilted it against her lips, willing it to work. She didn’t stir.

Standing here wouldn’t fix anything. He needed to get her somewhere safe, somewhere where he could get help and look after her better. He glanced at the horizon. He had no idea if Guardians still roamed these fields. 

He had to get to a stable.

Carefully, he lifted her onto his horse, mounting behind her and holding her close. He settled her head against his neck to support her and so he could tell if she started to stir, and so he could feel her breath and reassure himself that she was okay. As slowly as he dared- he didn't want to risk jostling Zelda- he started to ride towards the nearest stable. 

The stable was a welcome sight, its lanterns casting a warm glow against the encroaching night. Link dismounted carefully, keeping a firm hold on Zelda as he eased her down. She was still limp in his arms, her breathing steady but light.

"Two soft beds"

The stable master raised his eyebrows. "Afraid we're all full up. The sky turning dark and all of the noises from the direction of the castle spooked everyone- you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?"

Link didn't answer. His grip on Zelda tightened. 

The man exhaled through his nose, eyeing them both. "Just for you, I'll offer you my bed. Only the one of it, though."

Link nodded. "Put it on my tab. I'll pay up in the morning. Happen to have any doctors staying with you?"

The stable master shook his head. "No, but I can offer you help wrapping those wounds."

Link realized he must be quite the sight. Dirt and dried blood streaked his tunic and fresh bruises dotted his skin. All of him ached. 

"I'm fine," he muttered. He jerked his head in the direction of his horse. "Take care of him."

The stable master gave him a long look before leading the horse away.

Inside, the single bed was hardly luxurious, but it was soft, and that was enough. Link eased Zelda down, propping her head on the pillow. She didn’t stir.

He did a good enough job of wrapping his wounds, making sure that they were clean mostly. His wrapping job was clumsy, but it would be fine for now. 

His body begged for rest. He barely had the strength to think.

Without much thought, he eased down beside her. Close enough to watch over her, close enough to feel like he hadn't lost her again. The moment his head hit the mattress, exhaustion pulled him under.

Chapter Text

She dreamed of a man in green bowing down before her, his dark blue eyes looking up at her with a look of devotion on his face. 

He moved his lips, but no words came out. His eyes could have burned her with how intense they looked. 

She reached out to touch him on the shoulders. The ground beneath them was cracked stone, the air thick with the scent of rain and something burning. She tried to speak, to ask who he was-

She woke up to a pair of arms holding her. She shifts herself around to see who was holding her so. 

It was the same man she had seen yesterday, the one that rushed to her side as soon as she opened her eyes. 

Link .

She wasn't sure how- she didn't even know her own name- but she thought that his name was Link. Even though to her, he was a stranger, she felt safe and secure around him. 

But he was still asleep.

She hesitated. Should she wake him? He must have been exhausted- his face was lined with dried blood and dirt, and the bruises on his arms looked fresh.

Then, his breathing hitched. His brows furrowed, fingers twitching slightly against her arm. A nightmare?

She couldn’t explain why, but the sight of it unsettled her.

She reached up, fingers brushing his shoulder, and gently shook him.

"Link. Open your eyes."

His breath hitched, and then his eyes fluttered open. Relief washed over his face.

"You're awake. Do you... do you remember anything?"

Her first memory was still opening her eyes to a great blue sky, and then turning around and seeing him. She shakes her head. "Some things feel familiar, like you, but no. I don't even know my name."

"Zelda. Your name is Zelda."

"Zelda," she repeated after him. It felt right. "I suppose that is my name. Do you know how I lost my memory?"

He shakes his head. "I lost my memory also. I guess it was probably the same thing for both of us. We were both in a fight- we just barely won it, actually."

She wants to laugh. Two amnesiacs who somehow found each other. 

A strange sensation pulled at her, low in her stomach- a dull ache, hollow and insistent. Hunger.

“I think I’m hungry,” she murmured.

“I’m always hungry,” Link admitted. “Let’s start with food. Then we can figure things out.”

Zelda pushed herself up to sit, but as she did, her fingers brushed against the fabric of her dress. She frowned down at it- torn, stained with dirt, and… was that blood? The waistband dug into her skin uncomfortably.

Link followed her gaze. “Let me ask around to see if I can buy new clothes for you from anyone.”

“You really don’t have to-” she started, but then she stopped herself. Her dress was awful. “I can pay you back once I figure out how to get money.”

Link gave her a look- one she somehow recognized. Amused, exasperated, but fond. Like this was exactly the kind of thing he expected her to say. He didn’t bother responding, just turned and walked off.

How curious. She didn't know her own name until Link told her, but she knew Link's name, and she knew what money was and that it had to be exchanged for goods, and exactly what Link's look meant. She wished that she had something to write with so she could take notes on her condition. 

By the time he returned, he was carrying a simple tunic and pants. “There was a clothing merchant. Got this for you.”

She took them, the fabric rough but sturdy in her hands. Miles better than what she had now. “Thank you.”

She needed to change. Finding a quiet spot behind the stable, she slipped into the new clothes. The tunic was loose but comfortable, the pants more practical than the dress. She felt… more like herself. Or at least, like someone who could move without restriction.

As she stepped out, an older woman passed by and paused, looking her over with a warm smile. 

"Your man is up front, he wanted me to check on you. You're a very lucky lady indeed, having such a doting husband like that."

Zelda blinked. “Husband?”

Was she... was she talking about Link? She must be, no one else was around who could fit the description, unless somehow she was married to the stable master. 

"Yes, I suppose he is a good husband," Zelda said slowly. He had taken care of her when she passed out, bought her a bed at the stable and new clothes, and now he was getting her food. She must be a lousy wife- she hadn't even remembered that they were married. 

"Husband," Zelda repeated to herself as she walked over to where the lady had indicated where Link was. T hat must have been what Link had been trying to tell her before she collapsed. She should have realized sooner- why else would he have been holding her last night and been taking care of her so? 

She found him near the fire, setting up their meal. He looked up. “Everything alright?”

"Yes. Do you need any help with cooking?" Helping him out as he has helped her seems like something a wife would do. Hmmm... she'll have to ask around and try to pick up books as to what she should do to be a good wife, asking Link directly would be too embarrassing. 

"I guess you wouldn't remember- I hardly remember it myself- but you're... not the best cook?"

"Oh." 

"Here- how about we start with baked apples to go along with our meal? Your father taught me the recipe and it's easy."

Her father...

She vaguely felt like she hadn't had the best relationship with him. But mixed in there was love. 

Link could tell her about her father later. For now, she wanted to cook. 

“Yes,” she said, reaching for an apple. “Show me how.” 

Chapter Text

Despite Link's best efforts, Zelda ended up burning herself making the apples. 

Luckily, he had a variety of bandages and salves on him, he had stocked up before heading to the castle expecting to get injured during that fight, so he was 

"I'm sorry to be such a burden," Zelda sighed. 

“You’re not a burden. You’ll never be one.” He secured the bandage with practiced ease. “I burned myself the first time I made these too. It’s normal. I’m glad to take care of you.”

Zelda brushed her fingers over the bandaging, frowning slightly before exhaling. “I suppose I should leave the rest of breakfast to you, then.”

"Do eggs sound good?"

Zelda nodded her head, so he made himself busy, quickly stirring up an omelet. When he woke up, he didn't know what food he liked, so Zelda probably wouldn't know either. Hopefully she liked this, and if not, he could quickly make something else.

“You said that we were in a fight?” she asked after a moment.

Link hesitated, flipping the omelet onto a plate as he considered his answer. Should he hold back information like the King had, or just tell her everything?

"Yeah. It was a pretty hard one, took us a while to win it. You did most of the work honestly, I just stepped in at the last minute."

She seemed to turn that over in her mind, but instead of pressing further, she set her fork down. “What now?"

Kakariko or Hateno. He didn’t feel ready for Kakariko yet.

“I have a house in Hateno Village. It’s about a two-day ride from here. We could also stop by Kakariko, but…”

“I think Hateno sounds lovely.”

Finishing breakfast, he pulled out the Sheikah Slate, and Zelda’s eyes immediately went wide. “This is a map? And it glows?”

“You can zoom in on places too,” he said, tilting it toward her so she could see better.

She took it carefully, eyes tracing over the details on the screen as she tested its features, zooming in and out with growing fascination. Leaving her to explore it, Link headed to the stable master to get their horses. By the time he led them over, Zelda was still absorbed in the Slate, barely glancing up as he approached.

“This is your horse,” he said, giving the reins a small shake to get her attention. “Well, the descendant of your horse. But I got them for you, so they’re yours now.”

Zelda hesitated, looking between him and the horse. “Do I… know how to ride a horse?”

“Probably? I knew how to ride a horse.”

She frowned, thoughtful. “I wish I had a notebook to write down what I remember.”

Link swung himself into the saddle, adjusting his grip on the reins. “I need to grab one more thing before we go. Wait here.”

He rode over to one of the merchants, spoke briefly, then returned and held out a small notebook. “Here. Now you do.”

Link liked traveling with Zelda.

She seemed amazed by everything that she came across and asked him continual questions, half of which she didn't even give him time to answer before she began hypothesizing about them. This was much better than traveling by himself with no one but his horse for company. 

It made him look at things with new eyes- that forest was interesting , it was impressive how the cobblestone path was still intact, that was an interesting cloud formation. He felt like this was familiar, Zelda's continual monologue about everything around her, and he was glad to see that part of her personality was maintained despite the trauma and the memory loss. 

Eventually, the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky softening into a deep orange before fading to violet. The stars began to blink into view, and Zelda tilted her head back to watch them with wonder.

“The stars are beautiful,” she said. “I wonder what they are? Maybe they’re fairies, like the one in your pack.”

Link followed her gaze, considering the idea. “Maybe,” he said. “Or spirits. Or lights hung up there by the goddesses.”

Zelda hummed, mulling it over. “I feel like I used to know. I'll need to figure it out again."

The night air grew cooler, and Link decided it was time to set up camp.  He only had one sleeping pack, hadn't thought to buy another. That was fine enough, he wasn't planning on sleeping tonight anyways.

He built a small fire to keep Zelda warm, then unrolled the bedroll for her, gesturing toward it before stepping back. Without a word, he went to sit a few feet away, settling himself on the ground with his sword across his lap.

Zelda frowned. "Aren't you coming to bed, Link?"

He shook his head. "There're monsters and other things that could attack. I'm going to stand guard."

"Oh." She shifted, glancing at the fire." We can take turns- I can even take the first shift, if you want." 

Link gave a small shake of his head. “Fighting’s not something you’ve had to do. I don’t want you to start now.”

"You said earlier today that I was in a fight. Is that why I lost my memory? Because I did poorly at it?"

Link didn't want to imply that at all. "No- not bad at all. You held out for a very long time. It wasn't a swords or strength kind of fight, though. Just a... different kind."

She was quiet for a moment before looking at him with concern. “You can’t go on without a night's sleep."

"It's fine. It's my job to protect you."

That seemed to slightly placate Zelda, surprisingly. "And..." she blushed as if embarrassed somehow. "If that is your job, then what is mine?"

"Right now, your job is to sleep. You've been through a lot, Pri- Zelda. You need rest."

Zelda held his gaze for a moment as if considering whether to argue, but then she gave a small nod and pulled the blanket over herself.

Link stayed where he was, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight. The night was quiet for now, but he knew that could change. He kept his grip firm on his sword, standing guard as the stars shone cold and distant above.

Chapter Text

They arrive at Hateno at nightfall. 

No one is out as they travel. Link guides her to the side of town, and then across a bridge to the house that she assumes is his. 

When they arrive, he helps her out of her saddle even though she doesn't need it. She helps Link situate their horses, making sure to do a good job after they did such a good job carrying them. 

And then they head inside. The house is charming, an open-air concept with a loft and a downstairs area. The only decorations are some weapons that are hung up, weapons that feel vaguely familiar. She takes out her notebook and takes note of that, though why weapons would alert her she couldn't fathom. 

“I’m running low on ingredients, I’ll have to stock up,” Link says. “Are rice balls okay?”

Everything that Link has made has been delicious so far so she happily agrees. She attempts to help him shape them and is even semi-successful with one attempt. 

When he's done cooking, they eat in comfortable silence. Despite the fact that they smell good and look amazing, she has to force herself to eat them. Link finishes first but waits for her to finish, and then steals her dish and rinses it off before she can clear it. 

"We should get some rest," Link says when he's done. "Come on, I'll show you upstairs."

She follows him up, but as they climb the stairs, a wave of dizziness hits her. She pauses for a moment, gripping the rail, but shakes it off and follows him the rest of the way.

When they reach the top, Zelda stops.

There's only one bed.

Because of course there would only be one bed- they're married, for Hylia's sake. Even if she doesn't remember their marriage and feels totally out of depth as to how to best manage it. 

"I'll take the floor," Link volunteered almost instantly. He was even unrolling the sleeping pack from their travels. Zelda looked at him with confusion. 

"And why in Hyrule would you do that? The bed is on the smaller side, but there is space enough for both of them. 

"So that you can take the bed."

"We'll just share it." Is that not what married couples did? If she's mistaken about this, she'll have to write it down and begin seriously doubting her intuition that she's been relying on. 

“I really don’t mind,” he insists, settling onto the floor like the idea of doing otherwise hasn’t even crossed his mind.

Zelda watches him, bewildered. “We shared a bed before. Why would this be different?”

He hesitates. “It just is.”

That isn't an answer, but he clearly isn't going to give her another. She doesn't understand- why go out of his way to sleep separately? Maybe she misunderstood the nature of their relationship. Maybe theirs was an arranged marriage. Or maybehe just felt awkward around her after she didn't have her memory of their marriage, or he might just prefer sleeping separately. She decided the awkward after she didn't remember anything theory was most likely. 

Zelda stared at the ceiling, her thoughts circling in endless loops. Link was close- close enough that she could hear his steady breathing- but he may as well have been miles away.

Sleep doesn't come easily. 

She was walking towards the castle, her sandaled feet kicking up dust from the destroyed stone.

As she approached, a shape appeared in the distance. It was a beast- huge, its form a chaotic mix of red and black, shifting like smoke but solid enough to devour everything in its path. It loomed over her, its eyes glowing with an unnatural, predatory light. Before she could react, it swallowed her whole, pulling her into a tight, suffocating cocoon of darkness.

She fought against it, her power surging through her, trying to break free. But the more she struggled, the tighter the grip of the darkness became. She searched frantically, calling out for him , but Link wasn’t there. She couldn’t find him. Desperation clawed at her as she cried out for him, but the shadows consumed her.

The scream tore through the nightmare, pulling her out of it. She gasped as she woke, her chest tight, heart pounding. 

Link was already there beside her, his hand on her arm. 

“Zelda,” he said softly, his voice breaking through her panic. “Zelda, wake up. You’re alright.”

"I was walking and then a horrible beast ate me and then I couldn't find you-"

 Link didn’t hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, his grip steady and sure. She instantly melted into him, burrowing her face into his shoulder. His hand moved slowly over her hair, fingers threading through it in a steady, rhythmic motion.

“You’re safe,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

She stayed pressed against him, drawing comfort from his presence. Her breath began to slow, the tension in her body gradually easing. The nightmare began to blur, but the haunting images still clung to her thoughts.

“What  was  that?” she whispered, her voice still shaken.

Link held her for a moment longer before answering, his voice low. “That sounds like the monster we fought. The one you-” He faltered for a moment. “You were incredible. You held it off for so long.”

Zelda’s brow furrowed as a thought struck her. “It might be a memory,” she murmured, almost to herself.

She reached for her notebook, flipping to a blank page. She pressed the tip of the pencil down, but the letters came out uneven and shaky. Her grip faltered. She tried again, but her hands wouldn’t cooperate.

Frustration flickered across her face. “Can you write for me?” she asked, barely above a whisper. “My hands are shaking too badly.”

Link took the notebook from her without hesitation. “Of course.”

"Start a new section labeled dreams. Write down that it's possible that I subconsciously remember certain things, and dreaming is how they manifest. Then for details... " She swallowed nervously. "I was walking wearing sandals, the same sandals I came to with, actually. There were a lot of ruined buildings and a lot of dust. Then the monster was flying before it swallowed me."

Link fastidiously wrote everything that she dictated, the pencil scratching softly across the page. 

"That sounds terrifying, Zelda. I'm so sorry that you had to experience that, both times," he said once he was done. 

Zelda shook her head slightly, the weight of the memory settling deeper. She let out a shaky breath, her eyes closing for a moment. “It’s not your fault. It just… feels like it’s all blending together.”

Link set the notebook down beside her and pulled her closer, gently guiding her back into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding her.

“Get some rest now,” he murmured, his voice soft. “I’ll be right here.”

Zelda’s body slowly relaxed in his embrace, her breath evening out as she burrowed deeper into him.

Her sleep this time was dreamless. 

Chapter Text

Zelda thankfully falls asleep again, but he doesn't. He wants to watch out for any sign of a nightmare. He couldn't protect her while she was fighting Ganon, but he could now at least. Selfishly, he's still holding onto her. 

She spent 100 years holding off that monster while he had the luxury of just sleeping that time away. 100 years...  he can't wrap his head around that. While he knows the tragedy and pain of memory loss, of never knowing your past and feeling like parts of you are missing, he still can't help but wonder if maybe her not remembering that is for the better. He was outraged when Impa suggested that very same thing to him, but now he understands. He hates that he does.  

By the time Zelda stirred, the sun had risen, its early light slipping through the window in soft golden beams. She shifted against him, her breath catching as she pulled herself toward wakefulness. Then, finally, her eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep.

Link didn’t move right away. He should, but the light catches in her hair turning it into something ethereal- spun gold catching in the soft rise and fall of her breath, and for a moment, he just looked at her.

His throat tightened.

She rubbed her eyes and turned to him, her voice soft and drowsy. “Good morning.”

That shook him out of it. He cleared his throat. “How was your sleep? Well- your second sleep?”

She stretched slightly, rolling her shoulders. “Better. Dreamless.”

Relief settled in his chest. “Good.”

She sat up, combing her fingers through her hair. He took that as his cue to move, stretching out his stiff limbs before mentally going through their supplies.

“I don’t have anything to make a proper breakfast,” he admits. “I could put something together with what we have, or we could head into town and pick something up.”

"Let's head into town. I can't say that I'm particularly hungry at the moment, so I'm alright waiting until we have the correct ingredients to make something worthwhile."

Zelda swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching briefly before standing. She smoothed out her tunic and gathered her few belongings- mostly her notebook, which she held close.

As she twisted her hair into a braid, Link busied himself checking his pouch for rupees and adjusting his gear. Her hairstyle was the same as it was in his regained memories. She didn’t have much, not even a change of clothes. He’dmake sure to fix that while they were in town.

Satisfied that they were ready, he slung his sword over his shoulder and nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”

While out, he gets basic food supplies, and also all the stuff for pancakes plus toppings. Zelda's favorite food was a type of cake, so he suspects that she has a bit of a sweet tooth. 

Zelda protests against him spending more rupees on clothes for her, but he prevails against that and gets her three pairs of pajamas, four new tunics, one skirt, and three more pairs of pants, basically buying out the stock of everything in her size. Only having one pair of usable clothing is ridiculous.

They then returned back to his house. His house or her house? He bought it for her to have a place to return to, considering the dismal state of the castle, so her house. As he pulled out the pancake supplies, Zelda stood nearby, watching him.

"You're helping me."

"Are you sure? I burnt myself last time and the apples turned out horribly."

"They didn't turn out that bad. This time you can help me mix stuff and I'll show you how to cook it better. 

Zelda reluctantly agreed and began mixing as Link prepared the pan. The batter thickened, and soon they were cooking pancakes. Link expertly flipped them up in the air, each one landing perfectly.

"Your turn to make them."

"I certainly cannot do that," she says, referencing his impressive flipping.

“Don’t worry, there’s an easier way to do it,” he said with a grin, setting her up with a spatula. He showed her how to gently flip the pancake, a little less impressive than his acrobatics but still very functional.

Zelda gave it a try, and the pancake landed safely in the pan. She smiled at the success. “Alright, I think I’m getting the hang of this."

Link chuckled, moving to grab honey and fresh berries. He drizzled honey over one of her pancakes, then topped it with a few berries, sliding the plate in front of her.

“Here, try this.”

Zelda hesitated for a moment before taking a bite. Her eyes widened as the sweetness hit her, and she paused, savoring the flavor. After a moment, she looked up at him, a smile spreading across her face.

“This is… amazing,” she said, her voice soft with surprise.

Link smiled back, pleased with her reaction. “Glad you like it.”

Zelda took another bite, clearly enjoying it even more. “I didn’t think food could taste like this.”

They lingered over breakfast a little longer, Zelda taking slow, deliberate bites as if trying to memorize the taste. Link began gathering some dishes and rinsing them off, and Zelda snagged a washcloth and wiped down the counter as soon as she was finished. 

When everything was put away, Zelda hesitated near the table, tracing a finger along the grain of the wood. 

“So…” Zelda started, then met his gaze. “Can you tell me a little about my past? You said you lost your memory too, so I don’t expect much.”

Link had been preparing for this– turning the words over in his mind on their ride here.

"I'm going to tell you a story. Mind sitting down?"

She gave him a wary look but settled down onto a chair, folding her hands in her lap.

“One hundred years ago–”

“What do events of a century ago have to do with us?” she interrupted, brow furrowing.

"I'm getting there," he assured her.  "One hundred years ago, there was a knight and a clever Princess. Both of them were tasked with stopping an oncoming threat known as Calamity Ganon. The knight trained relentlessly, and the Princessstudied tirelessly.  But then, one day, the Calamity attacked. He turned the weapons that the kingdom had prepared to fight against them. The knight and Princess did everything they could to stand against it, but the Calamity's power overwhelmed them. The knight got hurt, so the Princess took him to a place where he could heal, and then she single-handedly held back the Calamity for the next 100 years until the knight could come help her."

Link took a slow breath, watching Zelda’s face. “I was that knight. And you were– are– that clever princess.”

Zelda just stared at him. "That’s not possible."

"It is." 

"One hundred years ago…" She trailed off, shaking her head. “How is that possible? I don’t look one hundred. And neither do you! Is there something strange with how we age? Or does time not operate the way that I think it does?"

"I don't fully know. I think that we were both in a stasis of some sort, you while you were engaged with the Calamity and me when I was healing."

Zelda’s hands tightened in her lap. She was quiet for a long moment, staring at the ground as if it held the answers she was searching for.

“That’s… a lot to take in,” she finally said. “I have no memory of any of it. No recollection of this supposed century I spent fighting.” Her voice wavered slightly. “It doesn’t feel real. One moment, my eyes were closed, and when I opened them, you were there. I don’t remember anything before that.”

Link nodded. He understood that feeling all too well. “That’s how it was for me too.”

Zelda exhaled sharply, her gaze dropping to her hands. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don't understand how it all fits together- everything before… before now." She shook her head slightly. “I don't know who I am.”

Link stayed quiet for a moment, letting her process. Then, gently, he said, “You were determined. Brilliant. Stubborn,when you needed to be.” He hesitated. “You loved learning about the world. You cared about people. And… you never gave up.”

"How do you know all of this? You said that you lost your memories also."

"The Sheikah Slate that device with the map-" he fumbles to unhook it from his belt so he can show it to her. "You left some pictures." He's clicking to the album then quickly getting to the top so that he can show them to her. "When I went to these spots, I remembered a couple of things."

"Do you think that'd work for me?" 

Link paused. He hadn't thought of that. Of course she'd think of that, she's brilliant. "I don't know. But I don't see why not."

"Do you think that maybe we could try traveling to some of them?"

Chapter Text

She wants to take it back as soon as she suggests it.

"It was just an idea. I don't want to be a bother."

She'd interrupted his schedule enough. And, while he tried to hide it, he was still injured for Hylia's sake. 

"No- we can definitely travel to them. With the Sheikah Slate, it won't be hard."

She  hmms  and grabs the Slate from him to study the pictures. They are remarkable,  so detailed and lifelike that they seem almost tangible, as if she could step forward and find herself there. "Even with a map as accurate as this one seems, it will still likely take a long time to travel to all of them."

"The Slate can teleport us."

" Teleport ?"

This revelation is nearly as shocking as the one that she's actually one hundred years old, and a Princess at that. "Explain."

"Well you just click on one of the travel points then you turn into a bunch of glowing blue strings then you're there."

How is this possible? If she knew how this was done and then just forgot it, she was going to be very cross. Instantaneous travel, truly? Was it some form of disassembly and reassembly? A shift through space rather than time? The possibilities make her head spin.

She wants to try it immediately- not just to get to their destination faster, but to experience it for herself.

Link takes the Slate back and navigates over to the map then zooms in on a specific spot. "This is where I got my first memory. Seems as good of a place to start as any, and it'll only take a few minutes to get there. Want to try it?"

“Do I want to try?” Zelda’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “One of the most ridiculously amazing things I've heard of? Yes, of course I want to try it.”

"Okay. I've never done this with two people before. If you just hold onto the slate though, that should work."

Zelda grips one side of the device while Link holds the other. He fiddles with the interface, selecting their destination.

For a brief moment, she feels weightless- 

Then she comes crashing back down.

The impact is jarring, the sudden shift from nothingness to solid ground overwhelming. Her stomach lurches violently. She barely has time to shove Link aside before she retches.

Link is at her side immediately, a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” 

She makes a face, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. It had happened so suddenly that some of it had gotten into her hair.

“Mostly," she says, voice hoarse. “Do you have water?”

Link fumbles with his pouch, quickly pulling out a flask. She takes it, pouring a bit over her hair first before taking a sip, swishing it around her mouth, and spitting it out to get rid of the taste of bile. 

“Is this a normal side effect?” she asks, pushing damp strands of hair away from her face. If it was, it was certainly annoying, but not enough to deter her from teleporting entirely.

Link shakes his head. “No, this has never happened before. Do you think it's because it was with two people?

"As likely of a hypothesis as any, you know more about this than I do. It's also possible that I just have a weak stomach."

Link frowns, clearly still worried. “Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do this right now.”

She straightens, fixing him with a determined look. “I’m fine, truly. Just a little shaken.”

Link adjusts his grip on his sword. "There are some monsters on the path to the memory spot. I'm going to go ahead and clear the way."

"Are you sure? Aren't you still injured from our big fight?"

He nods his head. "I've fought while feeling worse. It isn't so bad, mostly just a bunch of green lizalfos which're more annoying than anything."

"Only do this as long as you're sure that you'll be safe. I don't want you to injure yourself anymore."

He looks at her. And his face looks exactly the same as the look on the man in green's face from her dream looked. Committed, devoting, and caring. 

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures her, voice steady. “Just stay here. I won’t be long.”

Zelda wants to argue, to insist that he shouldn’t push himself, but something about the way he looks at her stops her. That same quiet determination, the same unwavering resolve- it feels like something she should remember.

"Just promise me that you'll be safe. Alright?"

"I promise."

Waiting for him is boring and also miserable.

She's worried that a monster will get him and then he'll be bleeding out and she'll just be here, doing nothing. 

In lieu of needlessly panicking, she starts examining the curious structure behind her. This must be the teleport point that Link had referenced. It has the most curious swirly design, and that's enough to keep her occupied until he returns. 

It isn’t long before Link comes back. She immediately checks him over for injuries. “Did you get hurt? Please be honest.”

"The lynel threw me at one point and that irritated my ribs, but other than that I'm all good. That was an existing injury anyways."

Zelda frowns, her hands hovering near his sides as if she could heal it just by touching him. “You say that like it's supposed to be reassuring.”

Link shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not worse than before. Just reminded me it’s there.”

"That doesn't make me feel better." She exhales sharply, crossing her arms. “You shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this.”

"It's fine. The monsters needed to be taken care of, so I took care of them."

Zelda shakes her head, frustration creeping into her voice. “You can’t just keep pushing yourself like this. What happens if it gets worse?”

Link’s gaze softens, and he gently pats her arm. “I’ll be fine. But for now, let’s focus on getting to the memory spot.”

Zelda huffs but doesn’t argue further, following him as he leads the way toward the stone walkway. “Just… be careful, alright?”

Link nods, offering a small, reassuring smile. “I will.”

Getting to this spot was an adventure all on its own.

Link had to help her down a large drop to the 'boat' he scrounged, then there was a lizalfos that he missed, and only then had they been able to make it to the promenade and over here.

"Is this the spot?" she double-checked. It looked like the location from the picture, but she wanted to be sure. 

"Yeah. I just looked at the picture then looked at the location then it worked."

"So some sort of context-dependent spatial recall?" she asked. 

Link shrugged. "Sure."

She looked around skeptically, scrutinizing the area. "This place surely has changed a lot in one hundred years, I'm skeptical as to whether this will work."

"It worked for me. Just try it."

"Alright."

Link pulled up the picture on the Sheikah Slate then handed it to her. She tried to follow his directions- look at the picture then look at the place- but it wasn't working.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” she muttered, frustration creeping into her voice. “It worked for your memories, not mine.”

Link didn’t seem disheartened. “You were there with me, Zelda. I know you’ll remember too. Just try a little longer.”

Zelda sighed, her gaze drifting back to the Sheikah Slate in her hands. She had to concentrate. All right.

But as she focused, the world around her began to blur, and the image in the Slate suddenly felt distant, until she was slipping into something else. 

She's walking down the mountain.

She feels cold, but beyond that, she doesn't feel much at all. She vaguely feels like she should be upset or distressed.

She hardly registers the questions as they're thrown at her. She just wants to go back up that snowy mountain then curl into a snow drift and never get out.  

One of them is about to tell her something and she turns her attention to them- but before she could, there was a rumbling like an earthquake.

And then, the creature of her nightmares starts screaming in the distance. 

She's gasping for air when she comes out of the memory, her eyes widening.  

"Zelda- did it work? You went still for a bit."

She’s silent for a moment, trying to steady her breathing. Her hand instinctively moves to wipe her cheek, realizing too late that it’s wet. She’s crying.

Link’s voice softens. “Zelda?”

She nods slowly, still unable to find the words. The memory is heavy, and it sits on her chest like a weight she can’t shake off.

“Who were those four people?” Zelda finally asks, her voice trembling. Her gaze is distant, unfocused, as if the images of them are still playing in her mind.

Link hesitates for a moment before answering. “Those were the Champions,” he says quietly. “They were the ones chosen to fight alongside you. They gave everything to protect Hyrule.”

Zelda swallows hard, the implications of those words sinking in. “They must be dead by now.”

Link doesn’t meet her eyes, his expression grim. “Yeah. They are. They fought to hold Ganon back, but his malice corrupted their Divine Beasts. In the end, they… all fell.”

“Divine Beasts?” Zelda asks, still trying to process what she’s seeing and hearing.

"Giant mechanical creatures that the Champions controlled."

"And now they're dead. It appeared that I was trying to get power of some sort that would stop the Calamity, but failed?"

Link looks at her, his face heavy with regret. “We all did. But you didn’t give up. You fought until the end.”

She nods slowly, her mind racing, processing everything she’s just witnessed. “I… I don’t know how to feel about this.”

Link takes a breath, his voice soft. “You don’t have to know right now.”

Zelda just stares at the ground. "Thank you. For helping me remember."

"There's more memories."

She looks up at him.

"There are? Do you think... mayhaps I'll be able to remember the Champions?"

Link hesitates. "Maybe. I didn't remember them from the pictures, but if we go to where they lived, you might be able to remember them like I did."

Zelda’s gaze drifts toward the horizon, her fingers curling into a fist. “Then we should go.”

Chapter Text

Link watches her for a moment. “Where do you want to start?”

“I want to start with planning on finding more memories. I want to remember you- remember all of them.”

Link watches her for a moment before nodding. “We can head home first, or we can go straight out.” He gently tugs the Sheikah Slate from her hands and pulls up the map. “I’ll mark all the places where I found memories. They’re scattered, but we can make a plan to visit them.”

Zelda nods. “I want to go now.”

Link glances at her. “Do you think you can handle teleportation again? If not, Kakariko isn’t far.”

“I’d love to teleport again,” she says, her eyes shining. “Just let me write down my observations first.”

He waits as she jots down her notes, her movements quick and precise. When she finishes, he meets her gaze. “You sure you can handle this?”

“Yes. Besides, it might have just been being unprepared, or a side effect of traveling for the first time. I’m sure that I can manage it better this time.”

It was not her just being unprepared. 

As soon as they teleport again, Zelda is immediately lurching off to the side and throwing up again. This time he's fast enough to be able to hold back her hair and pat her shoulders, and he grabs out water for her before she has to ask. 

He frowns.

Zelda tries to brush it off, offering a half-smile. “It’s probably just part of this type of transport for me. I still think it's incredible.”

But Link's not convinced. He has never seen this happen, not even when he was sick from dubious food he definitely shouldn't have eaten. Maybe he needs to force Purah to be a guinea pig and see what happens if he teleports with her, the Goddesses know that he's played that role for her enough times. 

They start walking towards the stable. Link decided to take them to Riverside stable instead of straight to Zora's Domain, partly because he wanted horses so they could travel on foot without having to rely on the Sheikah Slate, partly so he could prepare her for the Zora. 

"I was able to focus on the physical act of the transportation much more this time. I theorize that it has to do something with our particles, did you notice the way that we dissolved while holding hands? It transported all of our stuff, I wonder what the limit for what it can transport is, and how it determines what things to teleport. I want to travel everywhere this way, it is so fascinating."

"I think that traveling on foot is better if you're going to keep on getting sick."

"It only happened twice, that's hardly a pattern. And it's well worth it to arrive at places faster." 

"Regardless, we're traveling to Zora's Domain on foot."

Zelda hums in thought, then asks, "The Champion with the trident- they were a Zora, were they not?"

"Yes. Mipha."

Mipha.

The name sits heavy, like something half-remembered and half-lost.

He keeps his eyes on the road.

"What was she like?"

"She was kind. Gentle, but also strong. She loved looking out for people. I can tell you more about her on the way."

Because now they were at the stable, and he was forced to look at everyone warily.

"I need to head back to Hateno to grab some things for us- I'll be as fast as I can, but I need you to be safe in the meantime. Stay indoors and don't talk to anyone unless they're a worker. You don't remember the Yiga, do you?"

She shook her head. "Can't say it rings a bell."

“They serve Ganon. Even now, with him gone, some of them are still active.”

Zelda frowns. “But why would they still-”

“Some people don’t let go of the past so easily,” he says, adjusting the Sheikah Slate on his hip. “And some just like having a cause, even if it’s a bad one.”

She considers this, her expression serious. “So, you think they’d recognize us?”

“I’m sure of it,” he says grimly. “And I don’t want to risk it. Just stay inside, and I’ll be back soon.”

She doesn’t argue, which eases some of his tension. She must sense how serious he is. 

Link exhales sharply and pulls the Sheikah Slate from his hip. He taps the map, fingers moving with practiced precision as he selects the Hateno shrine. The blue runes flare to life beneath him.

Once at Hateno, he's fast. He sprints to the house, barely pausing as he throws together what they'll need. They should have planned this better. But, as long as they're near a shrine, Link can always come back, so he's able to grab just the scant basics. A change of clothes for them both, two sleeping packs, a tent, some food. He's barely grabbed the last thing when he's already reaching for the slate. 

The moment his boots hit the ground back at the Riverside Stable Shrine, he takes off running. His heart is racing like crazy and his chest is tight- leaving her alone was probably a stupid mistake. He should've figured something else out.

But as the stable comes into view, everything looks… fine. Peaceful. The horses are calm, the travelers are going about their business, and there’s no sign of anything suspicious. No Yiga. No trouble. His breath leaves him in a rush, but he doesn’t slow down, pushing through the stable doors in a near-panic-

And stops dead in his tracks.

Zelda is sitting on one of the wooden stools, her back to him, golden strands of hair pooling like sunlight on the floor. A small pair of shears sits on the table beside her.

She cut her hair. 

She turns at the sound of his entrance, tucking a loose lock behind her ear, and-

Link freezes, staring. He blinks once, then twice.

She looks different. No- right. Her hair frames her face differently now, lighter. She looks... so much like herself, like her hair was always meant to be like this. 

His breath catches.

Not because she looks beautiful- though she does- but because she just looks so alive. 

She’s here. Real. Tangible. Not a memory, not some echo from the past. She can make decisions, cut her hair, live in the moment, and he’s here with her, part of it. He can protect her. Keep her safe. Be there for whatever part of her life she lets him be in.

And she looks… beautiful. So incredibly beautiful.

His head goes blank for a moment, just staring. He wants to keep looking, but the thought of staring too long feels too intimate, too dangerous. He can’t help it, though- his gaze lingers.

Chapter Text

He hates the haircut.

Stupid, foolish Zelda. 

He's just staring at her. Likely trying to come up with a diplomatic way to say it's awful.

"The children were talking about the appropriate hairstyle for an adventure- I know that I wasn't supposed to talk to anyone but technically they were workers- and then I began thinking about mine and it seemed horribly impractical, but if it's truly that horrible I can wrap it-"

"No. No need for that." His face inexplicably is red. From running here? "I like the haircut. It's pretty. And practical. Like you said."

"I'm glad that you like it. I left it just long enough to braid back, I still rather like that style, but the shorter cut will require less maintenance and is less likely to get caught in stuff."

Link clears his throat, his hand tightening slightly on the strap of his bag. “I, uh- got everything we’ll need. Clothes, food, a tent, sleeping packs.” His voice sounds almost too even, like he’s forcing himself to focus. “We’re set to leave whenever you’re ready.”

Zelda runs her fingers through her hair again, still adjusting to the new length. “I’m ready now.”

Link blinks. “Now?”

“Unless there’s some reason to wait?”

For a moment, he just looks at her. Then, with a short nod, he shifts his bag higher on his shoulder. “Alright. Let’s go.”

She liked the path to Zora's Domain. The wooden planks stretched over the shallow water, sturdy beneath her horse’s hooves. The breeze was cool, the sun mercifully out of her eyes, and for once, the weather was perfect.

Zelda exhaled slowly, letting herself settle into the ride. It felt good to move, to have a destination. She glanced at Link, who rode just ahead, quiet as always. But his shoulders were stiff, and every so often, she caught him sneaking a glance at her before quickly looking away.

"If you keep staring, I might think you hate it after all," she called out to him. 

Link startled slightly. “What? No. I already said I like it."

“Then stop looking at me like I’ve grown another head.”

He made a strangled sound, ears pink, and nudged his horse forward.

Zelda laughed, light and breathless, before nudging her horse forward just enough to pull ahead of him.

Link narrowed his eyes, catching on immediately. Without a word, he spurred his horse after her.

Zelda grinned. If that's how things were, fine. She leaned into the wind as her horse surged ahead. The wooden planks drummed beneath them, the water on either side rippling under the breeze. The exhilaration of feeling the wind blow through her newly-shortened hair was addictive. She urged her horse faster, heart pounding, the world narrowing to the rush of speed and the rhythmic beat of hooves against wood.

Link was close; she could hear him gaining, but she didn’t dare look back. Instead, she focused on the path ahead, pushing forward until the bridge gave way to firmer ground.

She pulled her horse to a stop, breathless and grinning. A moment later, Link slowed beside her. He was smiling slightly.

Zelda shot him a triumphant look. “You let me win.”

Link huffed. “Didn’t.”

She tilted her head, unconvinced. “Liar.”

His ears went pink, again,  but he didn’t argue.

They kept riding until they reached an outcropping of rocks. Zelda eyed them skeptically. She didn’t think her horse could make it over, and even if they could, she wasn’t about to force them to try.

Link swung down from his saddle without hesitation. “We’ll have to go on foot from here. It’s too rocky and narrow for them.”

Zelda dismounted, giving her horse a final pat before stepping away. “That’s fine. We aren’t far, are we?”

“Far enough.” Link scanned the path ahead, expression tight. “This area’s crawling with Lizalfos."

Zelda frowned back. 

“They like to ambush.” His grip on his sword tightened. “I’ll take care of them.”

Zelda considered that, then brightened. “We could use the slate.”

Link’s response was immediate. “No.”

She huffed. “It’s faster.”

“It also makes you sick.”

“That was just-”

“Both times.”

She faltered. “That’s not a pattern.”

“It is when there are only two data points.”

Zelda pressed her lips together but didn’t argue further. Unfortunately, she did love data points. 

Link was right about the lizalfos- he had her hide behind a rock while he took care of a small outcropping of them right beyond the bridge they just crossed. He indicated to her that she could come out, and they kept on walking through the newly monster-free stretch. 

They kept walking, silence stretching between them until Link finally spoke again.

"So the Zora."

"Yes?"

"The thing about them is that they have conflicting feelings about us? Or about me at least."

"What sort of conflicting feelings?"

"A lot of them think that it was my fault that Mipha died. She was the Zora champion."

Zelda’s stomach twisted. The name meant nothing to her, not really- just another blank space where a memory should be. But she could hear the weight of it in his voice, see the tension in his shoulders.
 
“Is it my fault?” she asked quietly. 

Link’s head snapped toward her. “No. It’s no one’s fault but the Calamity’s.”

She looked away, fingers curling around her bag strap. That answer should have reassured her. It didn’t.

They walked on in quiet, the path narrowing as mist curled around the rocks. The scent of rain thickened in the air.

Link stopped abruptly, eyes scanning ahead. Zelda followed his gaze- lizalfos, poised to strike.

“Stay here,” he murmured.

She ducked behind a boulder as he advanced. The clash of metal and snarls filled the air, but she barely registered it. She was thinking of Mipha.

The Zora mourned her. She thought that she did too, even if she didn't know her.

Had she played a role in her death? Or the others? She couldn’t remember enough to say for certain. She had been there when everything fell apart, but had she failed them? Had she sent them to their deaths?

The fight ended. Link called for her, and she stepped out, brushing dust from her sleeves. They kept moving, the mist thickening as they pressed deeper into the valley.

The path twisted along the cliffs, slick from the rain that just started to drizzle down. Water dripped from the rock face, gathering in shallow pools where the stone dipped. Their boots left faint impressions in the damp earth, washed away almost as soon as they were made.

Another ambush. Another blur of snarls and steel. More silence to fill with doubt.

Mipha had fought. Mipha had died. And Zelda doesn't know if that was her fault.

The roar of waterfalls grew louder. The bridge to Zora’s Domain came into view, its stone arches rising through the mist. They had arrived.

Chapter Text

CH9 

The guards spotted him first, their faces lighting up in recognition. One lifted a hand in a friendly wave- then his eyes landed on Zelda. His arm froze mid-air, mouth slightly open, but he didn’t say anything. 

Link shot both of them a look. They didn't say anything, but they might as well have for how much they ogled. 

Whispers followed them. He couldn't help but reach out for Zelda, as if he could protect her from this scrutiny by shielding her. He guided her to the courtyard in the middle of the Domain, where they then both paused.

"Is this Mipha?" Zelda asked. She was looking up at the statue of her. It was beautifully done, capturing her in exquisite detail. He nodded his head.

"She's beautiful. She looks exactly how you described her- kind but strong."

They just stood in silence after that. Link kept on sneaking sideways glances at Zelda- was she remembering anything? She wasn't going slack like she did for her first memory, so his guess was no. 

He hesitated before asking, “Does this bring anything back?”

Zelda didn’t answer right away. She studied Mipha’s face, the careful craftsmanship of her features, the gentle curve of her smile. Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

Then, finally, she shook her head. “No.”

Link exhaled slowly. He’d expected that, but it still settled uncomfortably in his chest.

“That’s alright,” he said. “It took me a little bit to remember her too.”

Zelda let her eyes wander over the structures surrounding them. "This really is quite remarkable- the material here is nothing like I've seen before. I wonder what it's made out of? It looks like it might be a polished stone, but it all flows together so seamlessly."

"Some of it's from luminous stones, but probably not all of it since it doesn't all glow."

Zelda hummed in thought, nodding. "That makes sense. They probably use it as a light source, as I imagine torches would be hard to maintain what with all the water everywhere. The way they've shaped everything to be so delicate while still upholding the weight of everything is remarkable. Look at the way they use pointed arches- that must help with the structural stability."

Link nodded, giving her a moment to take it all in before gently suggesting, “Maybe we should go see the King- Mipha’s father- and see if Sidon is around, too. He's her brother.”

Zelda’s expression shifted slightly, nerves creeping in. “Do you think they’ll… be alright with us being here?”

Link gave her a reassuring smile. “They’re both very friendly, especially Sidon. You’ll see.”

Zelda's steps faltered as they moved towards the throne room. He reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Will they be alright with seeing me? We can leave now if it'd upset them," Zelda asked anxiously. 

Link shook his head. “They’ll be alright. You don’t have to worry."

She looked uncertain but nodded her head. Then, she took a deep inhale and straightened her shoulders. Together, they went for the stairs that led to the throne room and started to ascend them.

Sidon was the first to notice them. His face lit up, sharp teeth flashing in a wide grin. “Link! It’s been far too long!” He strode forward, reaching out to clasp Link’s arm before stepping back- only to finally notice Zelda at his side.

He froze. His amber eyes widened in disbelief before pure joy overtook his features. “Oh! Oh! Is it-? It is! Zelda!” His voice boomed, filled with excitement. “I can scarcely believe my eyes! It has been an age, truly! I remember you from when I was but a child- so poised, so kind! It does my heart good to see you again!”

Zelda blinked at him, confused. 

Sidon's expression faltered slightly as he took in her hesitation. 

A beat of silence passed before Link spoke, voice even. "She doesn't remember. Zelda lost all her memories after her fight with the Calamity."

Sidon’s mouth fell open. “What?” He looked between them, stunned. “All of them?”

Zelda nodded, clasping her hands together. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t remember anything.”

For a moment, Sidon just stared, taking it all in. Then, just as quickly as his surprise had come, warmth flooded back into his expression. “Well, that simply means we must make new memories, then!” His grin returned, bright and unwavering.“Come, come! You are most welcome here!”

"Thank you very much for your kind greeting. I must admit Link- Sir Link?" Zelda quickly glanced over at Link, unsure how to refer to him. He nodded at her to keep on going. "Sir Link and I are here for a purpose. We're on a quest to hopefully regain as many of my memories as possible, and also learn more about the Champions, including Lady- Princess- Mipha."

At that, a deep voice rumbled through the chamber.

“I am touched to hear that."

Zelda turned to see King Dorephan watching her with measured kindness. The massive Zora regarded her with quiet reverence, his expression softer than she’d expected.

“You wish to learn about Mipha,” he said, his voice carrying both sorrow and gratitude. “She held great admiration for you, Princess.”

Zelda’s breath caught slightly. “She did?”

King Dorephan nodded. "She spoke of you often, even in your youth. Your dedication, your wisdom- she saw much to admire. And now, knowing all that you have done... Hyrule stands because of you. You bore the burden of holding back the Calamity for a hundred years. That is no small feat."

"Thank you for your kind words. I am touched to learn more of Mipha and honored to know what she thought of me."

Before Zelda could respond further, Sidon’s voice rang out, bright and enthusiastic. "Well, I for one think a celebration is in order!" Sidon announced, his smile wide and infectious. "A feast! To honor Mipha, Link, and Princess Zelda, and all you've done for Hyrule. What better way to share stories and memories?"

King Dorephan chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through the chamber. “It would be our honor, Princess. You are always welcome here.”

Zelda hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”

Sidon grinned. “Then it is settled! A grand feast in your honor- oh! I must see to the preparations at once.” He turned back to them, clasping Link’s arm in a firm shake. “It is truly good to see you again, my friend. We shall talk more soon!”

With that, he strode off, full of his usual exuberance.

Zelda exhaled, watching him go before glancing at Link. “He’s… very enthusiastic.”

Link only smiled. “You get used to it.”

The feast was quite the production indeed.

Sidon brought together a truly mind-boggling amount of dishes considering the short notice, and everyone circled around the room talking and grabbing bites. Link focused on steering Zelda away from the older Zora, he still didn't know what their reaction to her would be and he didn't want to find out. 

Eventually, Zelda settled into conversation with the King and stayed like this for a while. Link kept a careful eye on her, only occasionally glancing at the food. Sidon had produced fried lotus puffs and sashimi. Soon enough, Zelda caught his gaze, and she waved him off with a smile. 

“Go ahead, Link. I’ll be fine here. Get yourself something to eat,” she said, her voice gentle but firm.

Link nodded and walked toward the food tables, his stomach growling. He was about to grab some food when Sidon’s voice rang out.

“Link. I just wanted to congratulate you on the good news,” Sidon said, with a meaningful tone. 

He must be referring to Zelda being back- good news indeed.

Sidon continued, his voice much more serious than it usually is. "You must know- Mipha would want both of you to be happy. I know that would be her greatest wish. Never let the memory of her hold you two back."

Link blinked, confused for a moment. “I’ll try to live up to what she would’ve wanted. Thanks for that, Sidon.”

Sidon’s grin softened. “I wish the best for both of you, Link. And for your future together.” He gave Link a nod of affirmation, then stepped back to join the others.

What a strange conversation

The party eventually dwindled and folks began to head out. Link went to go grab Zelda. She gave her goodbyes to the King and Sidon before they wandered out.

"And you thought that wouldn't go well," Link said, bumping into Zelda's shoulder slightly. 

"You told me it wouldn't go well. I thought that they were going to throw me out, quite literally, not offer to celebrate with a feast."

"Speaking of which- a feast that you did not eat at."

Zelda blustered, trying to defend herself, and Link just smiled.

"Do you think that they noticed I wasn't eating anything?" she asked anxiously. "I hope they didn't think that I was rude," she continued. "It's not that I was ungrateful for both the food and the gesture, and it did look good, just none of it seemed to sit right with me."

"It's alright. A lot of Hylians don't like their cuisine- I'm a bit of an outlier. I like just about anything as long as it's made well."

She sighed, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. "I should have at least tried, but I just couldn't bring myself to."

Link shook his head. "It's fine. I can quickly throw something together. He gestured for her to follow him toward the cooking pot, already mentally going through the ingredients he had or could buy.

"Could you make me something sweet like the pancakes?"

He should check to see if they had any coconut milk kanten leftover from the feast. That was sweet enough, she might like it. For now, he was just going to make a sweet fruit mush, and then put that on top of some toast. 

As he worked, Zelda leaned in, her smile soft. “You’re really good at this.”

Link paused for a moment, glancing at her. “Thanks. I think I knew how to do this a hundred years ago. I've liked cooking ever since I woke up, at least.”

He plated the dish and handed it to her. She took a bite, smiling. “Perfect.”

Link grinned, sitting beside her as they ate in comfortable silence, the night winding down around them.

Chapter Text

Zelda frowned when Link asked for two beds at the Zora inn. The innkeeper also made a surprised face, but complied at arranging those two beds without question. 

They would need to have a discussion about this soon. If it was his preference to sleep separately then of course shewould respect that, but if he thought that it was her preference to sleep alone then that would need correcting. She liked waking up in his arms. 

At least they got beds next to each other, close enough that she could reach out and touch him if she so chose, and all she had to do to see him was open her eyes, and she could hear him sleeping.

Sleep took her quickly. 

She dreamed that she was caught in a sticky black web, entangled around her limbs and dragging her down. It was a struggle just to stay upright.

Yet still she fought, pushing against the tidal wave crashing down on her with all her strength. 

An evil voice whispered into her ears. It told her that her friends and her knight were dead, her kingdom was gone, and it was her fault. What was the point of fighting when she was an heir to a throne of nothing? 

Nothing but failure. 

She would fail. 

This time when she woke up, it was in a cold sweat with a racing heart, but with no screams.

She turned her head. Link's steady breaths in and out were comforting. Should she wake him? No, she decided. He's lost enough sleep because of her. 

She didn't want to just lay here, waiting for sleep and likely another nightmare. She took her blanket and wrapped itaround her shoulders and tiptoed out of the inn and into the courtyard, where the statue of Mipha stood under the moonlight.

It was beautiful, bathed in silver light. It must have taken a while to construct and likely was done by an expert at their craft. She wondered what methods were used to make it- subtractive carving, likely, though some of the finer details suggested delicate chiseling rather than broad cuts. Did they start with a massive block of stone and slowly chip away, revealing Mipha’s form beneath? Or had they used a combination of carving and polishing, gradually refining the surface until it gleamed like water under the sun? 

Whoever had created this had poured their heart into it. It must have been made from someone who knew her, the likeness was too exact to be mere guesswork. Every detail was deliberate, every choice meaningful. It was as if they had tried, in stone, to hold on to her forever.

Link said that she might remember by looking at her, but she just felt the same sense of vague familiarity she felt looking at her trident back at Link's house. Mostly just blankness where memory should be. 

Soft footsteps approached. She wasn’t surprised when Link joined her. She must not have left the inn as quietly as she thought she did. 

"I wish that I could remember her and the others and everything else," she said. "But with all of those horrible dreams... I'm glad I don't remember that. Is that selfish of me?"

Link didn't hesitate. "You were selfless for one hundred years. Even before Ganon attacked, you spent every day only thinking of others. I think that you can be as selfish as you want. And for the record, I don't think you're being selfish."

"You'll need to get me a new notebook. A record-keeping one. I want lots of notebooks, so I don't have to keep writing unrelated things in my memory notebook. I need to make a new entry, I just remembered what subtractive carving was. I wonder how I know so much about sculpture creation."

"I'll get you all the notebooks you want."

And then she turned to him.

Moonlight and the glow of Zora lights softened his face, catching in his eyes like reflections on water. That must be from the luminous stones he talked about. It traced the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone, the gentle part of his lips. He looked almost unreal- calm, steady, beautiful in a way that made her chest ache. Her husband. She wished that she could remember their marriage, or any of their relationship. Hopefully, that would come to her, unlike her memories regarding Mipha. 

Link extended his arm to her. "Come to bed, Princess," he said. 

She sighed. "All the Zora keep on calling me that, and now you too?"

"Only because you're my Princess."

His hand was warm when she took it. He led her back inside, but when he tried to settle her in, she tugged at his arm.

“I don’t want to fall asleep alone again,” she told him softly. “I don’t want to face those dreams by myself.”

Link didn’t say anything- he just pulled back the blanket and settled in beside her. His warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, made the room feel safer.

Zelda let out a slow breath and curled against him. This time bad dreams still came, but even in her subconscious mind, she still felt safe and protected by him. 

Zelda stirred, warmth pressing against her back, steady and reassuring. For a moment, she didn’t move, but eventually she shifted slightly, and Link's arm tightened around her.

"Awake?" he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

She smiled, eyes still closed. "Unfortunately."

"Not me, I'm fast asleep."

Zelda huffed a quiet laugh and slipped out of bed, stretching as she stood.

"Zelda, come back," he whined, and surely this could not be the behavior of someone who did not like sharing a bed with her. 

"You can sleep in. I want to try my hand at breakfast this morning." She's been watching him carefully and taking notes in the back of her notebook and he's given her a couple of lessons, and while she couldn't manage anything complex, surely something simple should be part of her skill set by now. Her plan was eggs with honey- easy enough to cook up and able to satiate her recent incessant sweets craving. 

There was a beat of silence. Then-

"Nope, I'm up," Link said, almost too quickly. 

She turned to find him already sitting up, suddenly much more awake. She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you sound like you’re stopping a disaster?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, a little too innocently.

"You act like I'm going to burn the entire place down! Which would be incredibly difficult given the amount of water present and the stone architecture."

"Just want to be there to help," he says neutrally.

He's lying. She makes a face at him.

“You once put monster extract in curry,” he confessed. "It was... an interesting experience?"  

She frowned. “I did?”

"If I'm going to be having another one of your food experiments, I at least want to know what's coming."

"You don't even know what I'm planning on making."

"And you're making?"

Her cheeks turn red and she has to look away. "Eggs with honey," she half mumbles. 

Link just blinked, but it was a triumphant blink, an 'I just proved my point' blink. How it was she didn't know, but it definitely was. 

She turned toward the exit of the inn. “Well, I don’t see you stopping me.”

“Not stopping, just supervising,” Link said, following.

She glanced at him. “You really think I need that?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

Link doggedly followed her to the cooking pot, and she huffed when he beat her to crouching down to set the fire.

“I can do that myself,” she muttered.

“I know,” he said, striking the flint anyway.

She crossed her arms, unimpressed.

“Compromise,” he said before she could argue. “Two eggs normal, one with honey. We can experiment and enjoy our food.”

She narrowed her eyes but relented. “Fine.”

She cracked the first egg into the pan. Then the second. Then the third—except the shell crumbled in her hands, sending shards straight into the mess of half-cooked yolks. She swore under her breath and tried to fish them out, only for the eggs to start sticking.

Link hovered far too close. It was distracting- until a sharp sizzle filled the air, and he made a noise like he was about to intervene.

She shot him a glare. “I’ve got it.”

She did  not  have it. The edges were burning, the centers were still raw, and somehow, the honey had pooled into a sticky, caramelized disaster. When she tried to flip one, it disintegrated on impact.

Link inhaled sharply. “Zelda-”

“I said I’ve got it.” She scraped at the pan. The pan did not cooperate.

A moment passed. Then, silently, Link reached over, nudged her aside, and took the spatula. With a few swift motions, he salvaged what he could- pressing, folding, flipping with the kind of precision that made it look effortless.

She crossed her arms. “Show-off.”

“They’re… still food.” He slid the eggs onto a plate, eyeing the charred edges with something between amusement and concern.

Zelda sighed and took a bite of the honeyed one first. It was a mess- the honey was burnt and the heat altered the flavor of it- but the proof of concept was still there, and she still enjoyed it.  

“This works,” she said, pleased. Sweet and savory, like she’d hoped.

Link, less convinced, reached for a bite.

She smacked his hand away. “You have your own.”

Soon enough, breakfast was finished, and it was time to get ready to go. 

They had talked it over, and while she was glad for all the recollections of Mipha that had been told to her, there was no use waiting around for her to remember. Either she did or she didn't. And there was a memory spot nearby in Akkala that Link seemed excited to take her to. 

While Link was quickly buying some things like the entirety of their stock of arrows at the general store, Zelda remained at the inn, her attention caught by the small bookshelf that it had. She eyed all of the books till one of them caught her eye. 

"Do you happen to loan out the books?" 

She felt like she remembered that. Different institutions sharing and loaning and sending their books, and allowing travelers to borrow them as long as it was returned in due time. She'd have to write that down. 

The Zora attendant looked down at the book. "Oh." She gave Zelda a very knowing smile. "That one has to do with Hylian anatomy. If you let me see it a moment-"

Zelda handed it over, watching the attendant quickly flip through the pages. After a brief pause, she took a ribbon from the counter and slipped it between the pages before closing the book and handing it back with a kind smile.

"Useful for you and your husband," she said with a wink.

Zelda accepted the book, brow furrowing. Useful how? She flipped it open to the marked page-

Then immediately shut it.

Her ears burned.

Yes, she and Link were married, but they weren't even sharing a bed consistently, and that was just for sleeping! She hadn't picked the book for that- she just wanted something informative. Lately, she's been feeling off- more tired or sore or dizzy compared to Link, and only being able to stomach food with some sweetness in it, and she was concerned that these were possibly symptoms after her time with Ganon. 

It wasn't an illness, exactly. She wasn't feeling feverish, she wasn't coughing. Maybe this was perfectly normal for someone who was a hundred and... actually, she didn't know her age. She'd need to check with Link. 

Forcing down her blush, she carefully flipped through other sections of the book. The book was focused on anatomy, only body parts, nothing to get embarrassed about. While not the focus of the book, it had a section on malaises, so it would have to do.

She mumbled out a thank you to the attendant and then firmly shut the book and put it in her pack. There was nothingwrong with the book or her having it, but she still didn't want Link to know she had it. 

With that, she stepped out of the inn. They had traveling to do.

Chapter Text

As they left the domain, Link led Zelda toward the reservoir dam, its towering structure rising high above them. He had seen it countless times, but she stopped at the base of the staircase, staring up with wide eyes.

"This is incredible," she breathed, tilting her head to take it all in. "The functionality alone is impressive, but they still made it beautiful. Look at those carvings- completely unnecessary but beautiful."

She didn’t wait for a response before starting up the stairs. Link followed just behind her, watching as she kept looking around, absorbing every detail.

Then her brows furrowed. “Why is it straight rather than curved?” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “A curve would distribute pressure differently. I’ll have to ask about it next time we visit.”

She was already pulling out her notebook. Before she could scribble anything down, her foot caught the edge of a stair, and Link grabbed her elbow just in time to stop her from stumbling.

“Zelda,” he said, exasperated.

She blinked at him, then gave a sheepish smile. “Right. Walking and writing, a bad idea. Just give me a moment to get this down."

He waited patiently for her. He didn't mind gaps, as long as she wasn't about to fall off the stairs she could take all the notes she wanted. Once she had finished writing, she snapped her notebook closed and put it away. 

They finished climbing the stairs, reaching the top of the dam. From there, Link led her toward a nearby trail. When they reached the entrance, Zelda stopped, looking between the uneven, rocky terrain and him with an expression that very clearly said, really?

He just shrugged, then gestured forward.

"We can always take the far more practical and exciting route and use the Sheikah Slate. Just because I threw up before doesn't necessarily mean I will again, and even if I do, it truly is not the massive deal you're making it out to be."

"Both times."

"Twice, a statistically insignificant sample size."

Link crossed his arms, unimpressed.

She exhaled sharply, glancing at the trail again. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in arguing.”

“Nope.”

She gave him a long look, then adjusted the strap of her bag and stepped forward. “Fine. But I want it noted that this is a waste of perfectly good teleportation.”

He gestured for her to go ahead. “Duly noted.”

The path was worse than it looked. Jagged rocks jutted out at odd angles, and the incline forced them to pick their way carefully up the trail. Zelda was quiet at first, focused on keeping her footing, but it didn’t take long before she started grumbling under her breath.

By the time they reached the crest of the hill, she was panting. She paused, bracing her hands on her knees before straightening with a sharp inhale.

"For the record, I prefer throwing up to this. I'm going to write that down the moment you get me my new notebook." 

Link let out a short laugh, adjusting his footing. "First priority once we run into a merchant."

Zelda didn't respond.

"Zelda?" He glanced over. 

She had gone entirely slack looking at the waterfall. 

He waited, watching her carefully. She was so still it was almost unsettling. The roar of the water filled the space between them, but she didn’t seem to hear it.

Then, suddenly, she stumbled, sucking in a sharp gasp. Link moved without thinking, catching her arm and steadying her before she could fall.

“Hey,” he said, keeping his grip firm. “You okay?”

She nodded her head. "I just remembered something with Mipha. I was asking her to be one of the champions, and then she helped a young Sidon up the waterfall."

"That's great!"

"I suppose so." She struggled with her pack to get something out, likely her notebook. "I didn't remember very much. Also, the trigger was very random- it was triggered by a location again, but without the photos."

Link realized that he was still holding onto her. He awkwardly let go. "Still- that's something."

She finally wrestled her notebook out, flipping it open with a frown. "It is. I'm very glad to remember some of Mipha, she was very kind like you described. But still- it seems so inconsistent. Last time it felt like I remembered a lot, this time itwas just a scrap. And can I expect memories to randomly trigger now? I wish that there was more predictability with this."

Link looked at her for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I get it. I know it’s frustrating not having control over it. But progress is still progress, right? Even if it's slow, you're still getting pieces back."

She gave him a small, tight smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're right. It's just... I wish it wasn't so inconsistent."

Link nodded sympathetically. Of course Zelda would like to have control of this sort of thing. He gave her a moment to process and finish writing. "You ready to keep going?" he asked once she put her notebook away. "We can wait if you need more time."

Zelda shook her head. "Let's keep going."

"Not far from here. And the rest of the trail is easy."

"Easier than using the Slate to get to our location in seconds?"

"Easier than recovering from whatever the Slate's doing to you."

They kept bickering lightly as they hiked. The trail really wasn't so bad, and there was a slight breeze, and it was nice. 

After a few minutes of easy hiking, Link glanced ahead. “We’re here.”

Zelda blinked in surprise. “Already? It didn’t feel like that long.”

Link gave her a smug smile. “Told you it wasn’t bad.”

Zelda reached for the Slate that he kept at his hips. That's another thing he should get her, a belt so that she can keep the Slate- it's more hers than his, really.

She frowned as she scrolled through the photo album. "I don't recognize any photos for this location. What are we doing here?"

Link pointed down at the valley beneath them. "The next memory is over there."

The Akkala region was splayed out beneath them, a patchwork of vibrant colors. The faint shimmer of the ocean was visible in the distance, its edge blending with the horizon. Closer, the rolling green hills unfolded, dotted with trees dressed in shades of red and yellow, their leaves glowing in the soft light.

"How will we get there? It's so far down." Zelda asked. 

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Hold onto me. Tightly. Get behind me then hug me from behind."

Zelda shot him a suspicious look, but relented, sliding her arms around his waist.

"Hold on a little tighter."

She tightened her grip, and then he started running. Zelda started to shriek at him that they were going to fall off the cliff, but just in time, he unfurled his paraglider. 

The wind caught the paraglider, and for a split second, Link felt Zelda’s arms lock around him like a vice. Her shriek rang in his ear.

“Link!”

He grinned, adjusting his grip as they dipped slightly before catching the current. “You’re fine, just hold on.”

Zelda didn't respond other than burying her face against his back. 

They glided in silence, save for the wind rushing past them. After a while, her breathing evened out, but she still clung to him like her life depended on it.

The ground rose up to meet them, and Link adjusted their angle, landing in a smooth jog before coming to a stop. The second her feet touched solid ground, Zelda stumbled back, taking a deep breath.

Then she smacked his arm. “You could have warned me first!”

Link laughed, rubbing the spot where she hit him. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Not the point!” She shot him a glare, but it wasn’t entirely convincing.

"I thought that you'd like paragliding."

"Maybe I would if I didn't think that we were going to fall off a cliff."

"Technically we did fall off a cliff," he points out as he folds up the paraglider.

"I am still too filled with adrenaline to respond to a technicality like that."

Link secured the paraglider with practiced ease, then slung it back into place.

“We should keep moving,” he said. “Long way to go.”

Zelda exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if shaking off the last of her nerves. “Agreed.”

They started walking, the world settling into quiet around them. Their steps fell into a rhythm, the adrenaline from the flight fading into steady movement. Time stretched, the silence lingering until Zelda finally spoke.

"Link?"

"Yes, Princess?"

Zelda carefully kept her eye on the path, skirting around any parts where the ground was upturned. The wind had picked up, carrying the scent of rain, though the storm still lingered on the horizon.

"I am... curious as to the nature of our relationship," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "From my memory with Mipha, I seemed rather reticent to speak of you. Was it not a cordial one?"

"At first you didn't like me very much," he admitted. "I was forced into your life which you didn't like, and I was kind of intruding on your space and making you doubt yourself in many ways."

Zelda hummed thoughtfully as she pushed her hair back again. The wind kept on blowing it into her face. 

"Is that why you refuse to share a bed with me currently?"

Link nearly tripped over a rock. "What?" 

She still wasn't looking at him. "Well if that's how our relationship was- is- then surely I would respect that, it's just that your actions had led me to believe otherwise."

"Well, there was caring involved eventually. You grew to like me."

"And you?" She finally glanced at him. "Did you ever like me?"

"I always liked you."

She frowned, brow furrowing. "I must admit, I'm rather confused then. Do you think that I do not want to share a bed? Because that is not the case."

"It's just not very proper."

"Why not? I don't get why that would be a concern," she asked. She looked confused. 

He shrugs uncomfortably. Lots of people, strangers even, shared beds, it wasn't that uncommon. But it still felt wrong. Like he was besmirching her virtue or about to set a bunch of gossips off. Yes, he had shared a bed with her, but that was only to help her during her nightmares-

Oh. 

Her nightmares never seemed as bad when he was holding her. He suddenly feels terrible. If he had made this connection earlier then of course he would be happy to hold her while she slept, propriety be damned. 

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you."

"You don't have to just say that."

"I’m not." Link hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just being foolish."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "About what, exactly?"

He exhaled. "Overthinking. Making a big deal out of nothing."

"So... you truly do not mind? Because if you do that of course is acceptable I was just scared that you thought that I thought-"

"Zelda," he interrupted. "I truly do not mind."

She studied him for a moment, as if searching for any hesitation. Whatever she found seemed to satisfy her, because she gave a small nod.

“Alright then.”

That seemed to be the end of it. Link wasn’t sure what he expected- maybe more questions, more teasing- but Zelda just turned her attention elsewhere, as if the topic had never been brought up.

Still, the conversation lingered in his mind. He had been foolish. It was just sleeping. Nothing improper about it. Nothing complicated.

So why did it feel like he was missing something?

Chapter Text

They continued walking. Zelda had to reevaluate their entire marriage now that she knew that it was arranged, and she apparently didn't like Link very much. She hoped that she was never unkind to him- even if she had evidently resented the arrangement, she was confident that Link had never done anything to deserve any coldness from her.

What was the most puzzling to her was Link's actions. It was an arranged marriage, but then he went ahead and acted like it wasn't- or rather, her actions had led her to believe it was a love match, or at least they were close. His actions were much more than the politeness or cordiality she would have expected given the situation. He was thoughtful and patient and warm, not in a roundabout or dutiful way, but in a way that was so genuinely kind that sometimes it made her ache that she couldn't remember him.

Something didn't add up. Why does he treat her like so if she had never wanted this marriage? If she had resented it- if she had resented him- then why did he act as though none of that had ever been true?

Before she could dwell on it further, she swayed slightly, her vision dipping for a moment, before Link interrupted her thoughts.

"Mind if we take a detour?"

Zelda shook her head to break out of her ponderings. "Of course not. Where to?"

He pointed a short distance away. "Do you see that little grove? There's something over there that I think you'll like."

He led her off the main path, through a small grove of trees where sunlight dappled the mossy ground. The air smelled of damp leaves, and Zelda let her fingers trail over the foliage as they walked.

Soon enough, Link slowed his walking, indicating that they were there or close. She went just a little further-

To see... a pond? But it was surrounded by colorful rocks that looked rather fungal-like, and the water had an unnatural sheen, and oh , the smell. It smelled like sulfur or overboiled eggs, and the water had an unnatural sheen. She coughed, taking a sharp step back.

"What in Hylia's name is thatI?"

Link barely glanced at it before shaking his head. “Ignore it.”

"Ignore it?" Zelda echoed. She was still grimacing from the smell, pressing a sleeve lightly to her nose. "Something about it just looks... wrong."

"It's harmless as long as you don't approach it," he explains, skirting past it. "And even then nothing bad happens unless you decide to upgrade your stuff too many times. Oh! Here it is. Zelda, come here."

She dubiously glanced at the pond one more time before heading over to him. "What is it?"

"It's your favorite flower- or was, at least. It's a Silent Princess."

The flower was almost star-shaped, its petals whorling gracefully from the stamen and pistils at the heart with bilateral symmetry, the center a vibrant blue that softened into a white that tinged the edges, all coming together to form a graceful corolla. Its lanceolate tepals curled out softly, delicately surrounding the flower, combining with the petals to make a harmonious perianth.

Her mood, unsettled a moment ago, softened.

"It's beautiful," she breathed out.

"It also glows when it's dark," he told her.

She tilted her head. "Truly? Like a type of bioluminescence? That's so fascinating, I wonder how it achieves that."

She took out her notebook. She had to record that this used to be her favorite, and likely still was due to how much she felt drawn to it.

She wrote down the details of the flower, the shape of the petals, the color of the center, the way the tepals curled. But then her fingers hovered over the page again.

She didn’t just want to write about it. She wanted to capture it in a way that felt… more real. Like in a sketch. She would sketch it.

Zelda glanced at the flower again, studying its delicate curves, the way the light caught the edges of the petals. And then, without thinking, her hand moved. The strokes came naturally, as if her hand knew exactly what to do, and the image of the flower began to form on the page.

"I know how to draw. That's so odd, knowing how to do something without knowing how you know."

"Tell me about it. That's basically half my life. Like did you know I know how to do a backflip? No idea how. Same with most of my fighting."

Being able to know how to move her hand the right way to produce a drawing felt unnerving enough. "That must feel so strange."

She finished shading her sketch. It looked very good. She shut her notebook close.

"Is it okay if I pick one?" Link asked before she could get up

"Of course. I don't see why it wouldn't be."

He carefully picks one, being careful not to bend it at all, and then he tucks it behind her ear into her hair, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin. She barely reacts, just frowning as she reaches up and pulls it right back out. "That's not a very sturdy place to keep it. It will fall out and I don't want to lose it," she remarks, twirling the flower around her fingers. "Do you think I can press this? I don't think my notebook alone would be heavy enough, and I'm not sure if it would stay with all our traveling or that we could provide a suitable drying environment, but if we got an iron or something akin to that then we could dry it without that."

Link huffs a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have a flame blade we can try."

"Oh- excellent! We'll need to see if we can get cloth or vellum. I wonder if it will display its bioluminescence even after it's been dried."

Link had already gotten up and brushed himself off. He offered a hand to help her up, which brought her back to her dilemma of wondering why he was so continually kind.

"Onward?" he asks.

"Onward," she confirms.

The rain continued to threaten to come down, so they hurried to the next stable. They beat it out, but they didn't beat the sun, and the sky was darkening by the time they arrived.

"Oh- it's dark. Pull out the flower, I want to see it glow," she exclaimed.

Link reached into his bag where the Silent Princess had been carefully stored, holding it gently in his hand. The flower, still delicate and vibrant in the dimming light, began to glow faintly, its soft bioluminescence flickering like the first stars of evening.

Zelda’s breath caught. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, unable to take her eyes off the glowing petals. The soft blue and white radiance seemed to soften the darkness around them, a delicate, ethereal light against the encroaching night.

Link smiled, his voice low. “Yeah, it is.”

She looked at him, just for a moment, then quickly glanced away. A warmth settled in her chest- flustered, but not unpleasant. "Thank you very much for introducing me to this flower. We should plan on getting more samples, I'd love to dissect one."

And then she's handing the flower back to Link so he can put it in his bag because she'd surely crush it in her pack somehow, and she's hurrying to the stable nearby- only because she's tired, no other reason.

When they reached the stable, Link tapped her on the shoulders and offered her a bag of rupees. "Mind handling the room while I check on the horses?"

She nodded her head and then he vanished from her side. She approached the front desk to see a worker and what appeared to be a friend of hers.

"One soft bed, please."

The worker took her rupees but raised her eyebrows. "One? Are you sure of that?"

Zelda nodded her head. She could feel the worker gawking at her as she went inside the stable and as the worker began to very loudly whisper with her friend.

"He's sharing a bed! And with that plain thing no less."

"You know him, he's easily taken advantage of, probably nothing more than that. Still, you should make your move on him fast."

Zelda blinked. For a moment, she just stared, not quite believing she had heard that correctly. Then, carefully, she set her hands on the counter, as a hot and sharp feeling rose up in her.

“Excuse me?”

The two girls stiffened.

"I just realized that you never told me what bed my husband and I should take," she said in a saccharine voice, emphasizing the word 'my' especially. No one should be ‘making a move’ on him.

The stable worker’s eyes widened. The girl beside her looked equally shocked.

“H-Husband?”

Zelda only nodded.

“How long… how long have you two been married?”

A century, give or take. She kept that to herself. Instead, she simply said, “A while. Feels like we’ve known each other for as long as we’ve known anything.”

The stable worker straightened quickly. “W-Well, come right this way,” she stammered.

At that moment, Link returned, brushing a bit of hay from his tunic. “Horses are good,” he said, then blinked at the awkward tension in the air. “Something wrong?”

Zelda just smiled. “Not at all. We have our bed.”

Chapter Text

Zelda only wakes up with shuddering breath once that night and he's able to quickly soothe her back to sleep, so Link considers the night a success. 

What Link isn't prepared for is waking up to her bedhead. Yesterday he was too focused on stopping the breakfast disaster to even notice it. It poofed out and partly covered her eyes, making her look both disheveled and endearing. It looked soft, like something you'd want to run your fingers through. He blinked then glanced away. 

Zelda groaned as she woke up, then sleepily moved some of her hair out of her face before it flopped right back into place.

“Morning,” Link said, his gaze lingering a little too long.

Zelda groaned, rubbing her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just-” He gestured vaguely at her hair. “Poofy.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before reaching up to feel the mess for herself. A resigned sigh followed. “Great."

Link couldn't help himself. He smiled a little, even though he quickly tried to stifle it. But not fast enough, since Zelda definitely noticed. 

"This is your fault you know. If you hadn't stroked my hair last night so much, it wouldn't be this messy."

"Apologies for helping you fall asleep, Princess. The hair doesn't look that bad."

"I look like I've been dragged through a bush," she stated plainly. 

And Link had to look away again, because that description was apt- but that didn't seem bad to him at all.  It made him want to run his fingers through it even more, but he quickly shoved the thought aside.

But then while Link was glancing away he caught one of the stable workers noticeably gawking at the two of them- and that made him snap out of this, because sharing a bed to protect his Princess against nightmares is one thing, doing whatever this was is another thing entirely. 

"I forgot to pack you a hairbrush but you can use mine," Link offers as he hurriedly gets out of bed. He's trying his best to put on professional mode.

“That would be lovely,” Zelda said, stretching and sitting up. “I might also need a hairband, if you brought any extra.”

He didn't, but he's glad enough to give her his. She'll use his hairband and he'll use her hair-clippies and it'll be fine.  

He gets behind the changing screen this stable has and changes into a new shirt and pants as quickly as he can, his ears twitching for any sounds. Zelda is still lazily brushing her hair back and everything is fine. She gets ready slowly, but soon enough, they're on the words and waving goodbye to the stable master and his daughter who's strangely enough shooting daggers at them.

The air is still thick with the same upcoming storm from yesterday, a lingering humidity still hanging in the air. It looks heavy with rain, like it could start pouring down at the drop of a hat. 

They're riding to the Spring of Power now. Where Zelda will have to experience her pouring her heart out to the unfeeling and uncaring Goddess who keeps ignoring her pleas-

His heart still clenches whenever he thinks of that memory. He still gets  angry at Hylia whenever he thinks of that memory. Would it really be so hard to send even one reassuring message?

"Head up about this upcoming memory-" he starts. 

"A heads up about the Zora and now this- Goddesses, there must be a lot I'm missing," Zelda says teasingly. 

"Well, it's just that this upcoming memory isn't the most positive one." Most of them aren't, actually. "Just wanted to prepare you for that."

"Thank you for warning me," she says. She's just looking at him. And it looks like it's going to start raining any second now, and now he's imagining her new haircut all wet and slicked back, and that's not good. 

He shifts a little uncomfortably in the saddle and Zelda turns back again. "Are you alright? You seem anxious or on edge. Is it the storm?"

A few fat raindrops are starting to dot the ground now, but this isn't the worst of the storm.  “Just… thinking,” he says quickly, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. “About the memories. I don’t know how much of them you’re ready for.”

“I’ll be fine.” Her voice is light, but there’s a quiet confidence in it that calms him for a moment. “You’ve warned me. It's enough.”

He isn't sure that it is. "Let's just hurry."

Zelda nods, and they both push their horses into a trot.

The air feels thick with tension as they arrive at the Spring of Power. Link pulls the reins, bringing his horses to a gentle stop in front of the spring. He dismounts quickly, his gaze fixed on Zelda as she gracefully steps down, her boots barely making a sound on the soft earth.

He follows her to the edge of the spring, his steps hesitant, his mind racing. Zelda catches his eye, offering a small, reassuring smile before she reaches for the Slate. He stands by her side, his hand lightly resting on hers for a moment, squeezing it in quiet reassurance.

Zelda’s fingers move to open the album, and Link watches closely, his heart in his throat. 

It takes a bit for her to begin remembering. Longer than it took for him. But soon enough, he sees her face go slack, and he knows she's stuck in the recollection.

He finds himself reaching for her hand. For him or for her, he couldn't say. 

He feels a knot form in his stomach when she suddenly gasps, her breathing sharp and uneven. Her body shakes as she pulls back from the memory, her hands trembling violently, gripping the Slate too tightly. Her eyes are wide and unfocused, tears welling up before she even realizes they’re there. 

"Hey, it's okay," he soothes. He pulls her against him and begins stroking her hair. "I've got you. You're all good."

"You're... you're going to mess it up again," Zelda gets out in a trembling voice. 

"Nothing that the rain wouldn't do to it eventually," he says back. He's fully messed it up from the braid she had put it into. 

He continues to hold her, his hand gently brushing through her hair as the tears slowly stop. He doesn’t say much, just lets her cry it out, offering the comfort of his presence until her breathing settles. When the last tear falls, she pulls back a little, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Link gently lets go, standing up and offering her a hand. They both move toward their horses, the weight of the moment hanging between them.

“Did I ever find it out?” Zelda’s voice is small as she looks at the ground, a distant sadness creeping into her words.

"Find what out?"

"Find out what was wrong with me," she says softly, almost to herself. 

His heart hurts. "Zel-  Zelda,  there never was anything wrong with you."

She looks up at him, a mix of frustration and vulnerability in her eyes. “There must have been. I was supposed to stop the Calamity, wasn't I? That was my duty. And clearly, I failed at that.”

"Zelda, no," he says, his voice firm though soft. "You didn't fail. You did everything you could and you-" He cuts himself off. "It wasn't you that failed. You did everything right. Everyone else failed you. Your Father never supported you, and I never did enough to protect you. And Hylia failed you, by never reaching out or supporting you."

Zelda exhales shakily. "You don't understand. The memories- it's more than just watching them. It's like I'm  feeling  them too." Her voice wavers. "I've never felt that crushingly alone or like a failure before in my life."

“You weren’t a failure,” he replies, voice low but steady. “They just made you believe you were.”

Her fingers press into her arms. “But if I felt that way- if that was my whole life- then doesn’t that mean it was true? Doesn’t that mean I  wasn’t  enough?”

He takes a breath, his eyes steady. “Zelda, you held the Calamity back for a hundred years. You didn’t fail.”

She shakes her head, tears threatening to spill again. “But I didn’t stop it… I didn’t save anyone… I didn't save Mipha, or any of the Champions.”

"Their death is Ganon's fault. Don't blame yourself for his evils."

Her breath catches, the weight of his words settling in, but there’s still doubt in her eyes. “Then why does it feel like it's all on me?”

“Because that’s what they made you believe.” He squeezes her hand, his tone steady. “But it’s not true. You’re not alone anymore. You never have to carry this burden by yourself.”

She reached out and leaned into him again, and he opened his arms willingly and held her and stroked her hair and did everything he could to make sure that she could  feel  everything he was trying to convey. 

The rain started to fall. 

Chapter Text

Zelda never wants Link to let go of her.

While in his arms, she feels like everything is starting to be okay and she can ward off the desperation that she felt and still feels, but as soon as he lets go she feels lorn again. 

He has to care for her with the way that he's holding her. And going back to that dilemma is distracting, and better than stewing in her current feelings. She should get a new notebook to chronicle this. 

Reluctantly, she pushes herself away from Link. "We should get going. The storm looks like it's going to get worse, so we should try to beat it out." Staying here is not an option, the only sheltered place is near the Spring and she wants to stay as far away from there as possible. They could head back to the stable from before, but she doesn't want to deal with that stable worker again, she just wants Link all to herself for now.   

Link doesn’t move at first. His grip loosens, but he doesn’t step away, watching her like he’s searching for something unsaid. Zelda keeps her expression steady, even as she fights the urge to lean back into him.

She moves towards her horse, but Link grabs her before she can get far. She opens her mouth to protest that they need toleave, but before she can, he undrapes his cloak from his shoulders then gently drapes it around her. 

"For the rain," he says.

"You'll get wet," she starts, but the look he gives her- steadfast, unshaken- makes her swallow the rest of her protest.

"I'll be fine," he says simply.

Zelda tightens the cloak around her. It's damp but warm, and it smells of him. It isn't as good as being encircled by his embrace, but it will do. She heads to her horse, and Link helps her onto it.

They were not able to beat out the storm. 

"Do we need to find somewhere to break?" she calls to Link. 

He shakes his head. The rain was making his hair stick to his forehead. "Closest place is the stable. We just need to hurry."

Lightning splits the sky.

Then- metal grinding, a red glow cutting through her vision- 

Zelda shrieks.

Her horse jolts beneath her, nearly throwing her off. Rain pelts her face, cold and sharp, but it’s nothing compared to the terror clawing at her chest.

“Zelda?!” Link’s voice is sharp, urgent. “Are you okay?”

She gasps, blinking hard. There's nothing here. Just rain, just trees, just Link turning in his saddle, eyes wide with concern.

She swallows, gripping the reins so tightly that her hands shake. “I- I don't know."

Lightning flashes again.

The world tilts. Smoke, fire- she has to run. She has to escape.

The desperate urge grips her before she can think. She kicks her horse into a full gallop, the wind and rain whipping past her, hooves pounding against the soaked earth. She doesn’t know where she’s going- just away. Away from the red light, away from the suffocating terror clawing at her throat.

“Zelda!” Link’s voice barely reaches her over the storm.

A crack of thunder, a sudden jolt- her horse stumbles on the slick ground, and she nearly loses her balance. Strong hands grab at her reins, yanking hard, forcing the horse to slow.

Link.

He’s beside her now, breathless, his own horse fighting against the strain. He swings down, reaching for her. “Zelda,” he says, voice firm but gentle.

She’s shaking. Her breath comes in short, shallow gasps.

He cups her face, his touch grounding, steady. “You’re safe. It’s just the storm.”

She tries to speak, but her throat is tight, her chest heaving. The tears come faster now, unstoppable.

Link doesn’t hesitate. He links the reins of her horse to his, then moves to her side. “Come here,” he murmurs, lifting her down. She stumbles, legs weak, but he holds her up.

A moment later, he’s pulling her onto his horse, settling behind her. His arms bracket her, secure, unmoving.

“We’ll ride together,” he says. “Just hold on."

Lightning flashes again.

Zelda stiffens. Her pulse spikes, her breath catches, but Link’s arms tighten around her. The wind howls, the rain lashes down, but he doesn’t let go. 

She doesn't know how long this goes on for- all that she knows is that Link holding onto her is all that keeps her grounded.

They're arriving at the stable soon enough, but then Link is getting off of the horse, and she cries out for him-  she's losing him, she can't lose him-

But then he's helping her off the horse. 

She stumbles again as her feet hit the ground, but Link’s steadying hands are quick to catch her. He doesn’t let her go, not for a second.

The stable doors are already open, the flickering lantern light casting shadows against the rain-soaked ground. It’s quiet here, apart from the storm raging outside.

But the thunder cracks again, sharp and violent, and Zelda’s breath catches. Her body trembles

Link pulls her impossibly closer against him. "It’s just the storm, Zelda,” he murmurs, voice low, soothing. “You’re safe. You’re with me.”

Link leads her toward one of the empty beds.

She sits stiffly, clutching his wet cloak around her. Another crack of thunder- she flinches, breath hitching.

Link kneels in front of her, his hands warm over hers. “Breathe,” he says. “I’m here.”

She grips his hands tightly. Eyes shut, breath unsteady, she focuses on that- on him.

The storm rages on, but he never lets go.

Chapter Text

Eventually, Zelda drifts off into sleep. He should wake her so that she can change into pajamas, but she's so peaceful that he can't bring himself to. He brushes some of her wet hair out of her face.  

The stable master eventually comes by, having noticed that he did not pay for their bed. Link motions for him to be quiet and fishes out the rupees, plus a little extra for the inconvenience. 

After this, he turns his attention back to Zelda. She's curled up next to his side. Gently, he takes off her cloak and hangs it off the side of the bed. Next comes her shoes. He eases the damp soft leather off of her feet, and sets them to the side to dry. After that, he pulls up the bed blanket around her, making sure she's warm. 

Link doesn’t move from her side. He sits upright against the headboard, legs stretched out, staying close in case she needs him. Even now in her sleep, she flinches whenever it thunders, and he's quick to soothe her.

Eventually, the thunder stops and then the rain, slowing to a drizzle and then a trickle, and then nothing but the raindrops falling off the edge of the tent.

Soon, Zelda's blinking her eyes open and then stretching as she gets up. She notices Link sitting right next to her, and he thinks he sees her blushing.

“Apologies for earlier,” she says, her voice soft and a little hesitant. “I don’t know what got into me.”

He does. He remembers right before he died- there had been a torrential downpour that had soaked both of them to the bone, and lots of lightning and thunder. A particularly loud thunderclap had happened right when the Guardian shot at him, partly drowning out the sound of the blast. He's willing to bet that a part of Zelda remembers that also. 

"There's nothing to apologize for, Princess."

She nods her head. He expects her to be reaching for her memory notebook, but her hands stay still. 

Link quickly checks the slate where he's stored their clothes, and her clothes are dry because of course they're dry he stored them in the slate. He pulls them out then sets them out for her.  

“Your clothes are dry,” he tells her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She gives him a quiet thank you, then grabs the clothes and heads behind the changing partition in the stable. 

"Is it alright if we spend some more time lingering at the stable? I don't feel ready to travel quite yet," she calls out. 

"Of course. As long as you need."

"I want to try making a baked apple again. It's just protein denaturation. Surely, I can get it right eventually. 

Link laughs softly. “I’m sure you’ll get it right. I’ll be your taste tester.”

She comes out. He accidentally handed her his sweater, but it's an oversized one so it fits her anyway. She's a vision with slicked back short wet hair and the soft glow of the fire illuminating her features. He can't help but stare a moment. 

"It's not raining anymore. It's damp, but they store dry firewood in here. Want to go make some food?" Link asks, finally. 

She nods her head. "Do you have dry socks I can borrow? After that, onward."

“Yeah, of course,” Link says, his voice softening as he quickly fumbles with the Slate. “Here.”

"I have other more important priorities right now. But I'm going to figure out all of the mysteries of that Slate one day, mark my words. 

Link chuckles softly, watching her slip the socks on. “I’m sure you will. You're good at figuring things out.”

Her eyes sparkle a little, a smile tugging at her lips. “I hope so. But first, figuring out how to apply heat to apples in a way that breaks down their cell and evaporates the water in a way that does not result in a burnt texture.” She gives him a teasing glance as she heads out of the stable and towards the campfire.

Zelda sets the apple down carefully by the fire, her brow furrowed as she looks at the flames. “I just need to figure out how to apply consistent heat to the apple, ensuring the breakdown of pectin and cellulose without excessive dehydration. Simple. The texture needs to remain smooth, not overly fibrous. I think it might also help to control the evaporation of the water content to prevent it from burning.”

Link watches her, trying not to smile at the string of technical words she’s throwing out. She's retained that part of her memory at least. He leans in, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. So, basically, don’t let the apple get too hot too fast. You want it to cook slowly.”

Zelda looks at him, a bit taken aback. “You mean… lower the heat?”

“Exactly.” He points to the fire, flicking his hand as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “If you let the apple sit too close to the flames, it’ll burn, and you won’t get the texture you’re aiming for. You’ve gotta keep it a little farther out so it cooks evenly.”

Zelda blinks, considering it. “I suppose that makes sense. So, moderate heat over time…”

“Yep. Low and slow.” Link grins. “That’s how you get it just right.”

"I always rush things," she admits. "Or at least it feels like I do. But you're right in this instance- slow and steady."

He shrugs. "Practice makes perfect. You've already been a lot more patient this time around with cooking than last time, I think." This memory is a particularly fuzzy one , not one of the clear ones he got, but he has vague memories of her getting frustrated while trying to cook. 

The fire crackles softly in the background as the apple cooks, the gentle heat transforming its texture. Zelda watches it closely, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Do you think it's ready yet?" she asked, still staring at the apple intently.

He looks at it. "Not yet. Pull it too soon, it won't be soft enough."

Zelda nods intently, biting her lip in thought. She settles back, looking at the fire as she waits. Eventually, he gauges that it's about time to pull it, but he doesn't say that quite yet.

"Do you think it's time now?" Zelda checks with him. 

"I don't know, you check," he says. He pulls out a cloth. "Cover your hands fully with it, otherwise it'll burn you, then see if you like the softness. It's a little subjective."

Zelda picks up the cloth and wraps it around her hands, cautiously testing the apple’s softness. She presses gently, feeling the slight give as it starts to yield. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “I think it’s ready. It’s soft, but not mushy.”

He smiles. "Perfect."

After the apple cools down a little more, he gets out a knife and carefully cuts the apple, then hands it all to Zelda who hands him half. He lets her bite into it first, though.

"This is much better than last time! I'm never letting you let me cook without careful guidance again."

"It's not... it's not  my  fault," he sputters.

"Just try the apple- it's good."

He bites into it then gives a thumbs up. A little harder than he prefers, but still very good. 

"Want to help me with... I don't know if this counts as dinner or lunch. The meal?" He asked. 

She shakes her head. "I just remembered all of that stuff about apple cooking, I need to get it down-" she pauses and looks at him slyly. "-And I like to watch you," she adds.

His cheeks burn. That probably wasn't her intent. But now she's buried in her notebook. He decides on a vegetable risotto with lots of cream, something nice and comforting. He stirs the dish together, focusing on the soothing rhythm of preparation.

As the dish comes together, he sets it on the table and watches Zelda take a bite. She doesn’t seem to enjoy it as much as he expected, just picking at it and moving the spoon around the bowl.

“Is it okay?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

"Oh no- it's very good ," she reassures him. She clearly makes a big effort to eat it, but only eats half her plate. 

Link frowns.  She looks almost uncomfortable with the food. Maybe it’s something with the texture, or maybe her mood is affecting it. Either way, he feels a slight pang of concern.

Maybe he needs to get his own notebook. Something small, just for jotting down what she likes. Or maybe scraps of paper would do. He glances over at her notebook , wondering if he should ask.

But now she's buried in her notebook again, so he just takes her plate to wash it for now.

After he's done with that and his hands are dried, he turns his mind to other things. Namely, the notebook he promised he'd get her. 

"I'm going to go see if I can get your new notebook,” he says, glancing over at her.

"Oh- two notebooks, please," she says, finally glancing up from her notebook. 

He had a definite suspicion that her notebook collection would grow beyond just two more. “All right. If they have two.”

He’s in luck—there’s a merchant selling notebooks. The last stable didn’t have any , and paper is hard to come by. Notebooks aren’t exactly a best-selling item, but he finds a merchant who’d planned to sell them to the stable master and persuades him otherwise.

His luck nearly runs out when he returns to camp and doesn’t see Zelda by the fire. Panic grips him- just for a second- before he checks the tent. She’s curled up inside with a thick textbook. He blinks. He has no idea where she got that.

He walks over, but she’s too absorbed to look up.

He sets the notebooks beside her, and that gets her attention. She smiles, takes them eagerly- then pulls him onto the bed. Before he knows it, she’s curled up against him, warm and content.

He swallows. He has no idea what to do with his hands. Is this improper? Probably not, Zelda clearly had no problems with it. And the stable was practically empty anyways, so it was  fine . 

He takes a shaky breath, forcing himself to relax a little more. After hesitating a moment, he hesitantly rests a hand against her back. She melts into him a little more, if possible.  

She flips a page, still absorbed in her book.

“Thanks for the notebooks,” she murmurs.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Anytime.”

She shifts, settling in deeper. He exhales, letting himself relax.

Yeah. This was fine.

Chapter Text

By morning, the ground is mostly dry, save for a few stubborn patches of damp earth. The air is fresh, carrying the crisp scent left behind by the storm.

Zelda stirs, reaching out instinctively- but the space beside her is empty. Her fingers brush only the slightly rumpled blanket. Blinking, she looks around for Link. He's not in here. She steals the stable blanket and slips on her boots and goes outside to look for him. 

The morning sun is warm against her skin, and there, by the outdoor cooking pot, is Link. He’s focused, carefully flipping what looks like a pancake but thinner.

He glances up when he hears her footsteps and grins. “Morning.”

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You made breakfast?”

“Figured you deserved something nice.” He plates the crepes and hands them over along with a fork.

The first bite is soft, buttery, and just sweet enough. She hums in approval. “This might be my new favorite breakfast.”

"You said that about the pancakes."

"But I mean it for these. What are they?"

"Crepes. Like pancakes but thinner and fluffier and in my opinion, tastier."

She takes another bite, savoring the delicate texture. “I think I agree.”

Link smiles. “Then I’ll have to make them more often.”

Zelda nods, then she pulls out one of her new notebooks, the one that she acquired to chronicle their relationship. The purpose is twofold- she hopes to become a better partner, after all, Link has clearly been excelling in that regard, and she hopes to figure out the mystery of what their relationship was like before. She starts an entire section labeled food- it will probably fill up fast. 

Link chuckles at her note-taking habit. "Taking breakfast notes?"

"Nothing but the most important type."

He smiles at her. Does she need to start a section on his smiles? Seems pointless, she wouldn't be able to document all of them, and it would fill up far too fast. If she didn't have to worry about her carrying capacity for all her notebooks, she'd get another notebook dedicated just to that. 

But now Link is cleaning up, so she puts away her stuff to help him. They simply rinse off their dishes and then Link stores them in that befuddling Slate that defies all explanations. What is more marvelous, the teleportation or the being able to store things? Maybe they're linked somehow, maybe it's actually just using some sort of teleportation technology for both. 

Link touches her on the shoulder and she jolts. She got lost in thought again. "Are you ready to get going?" he asked. 

She nods her head.

"Alright. But before we go, first-" he gets out and uncorks a vial, with a truly awful scent. "We need our fireproof potions."

"Fireproof potions?" she asked, a little reluctantly. She would rather not drink that if possible. 

Still, she steels herself and takes a sip. It burns on the way down, an overwhelming mix of heat and bitterness that makes her gag. She coughs but swallows the rest, grimacing through the lingering sting.

The relief is short-lived. Her stomach lurches violently, and before she can stop it, she’s retching. The potion comes right back up, and somehow, the taste is even worse the second time.

Link immediately steps in, his hand pressing gently between her shoulder blades as he rubs her back. “Zelda?” His voice is full of concern, his eyes never leaving her face. “Are you okay?”

She wipes her mouth, trying to steady herself. “It’s fine, really. It was just… inexorably spicy.”

Link doesn’t look convinced. His hand stays on her back, rubbing slowly as he pulls a flask of water from his pack, offering it to her. “Here, drink this. It’ll help.”

Zelda takes it with a nod, drinking deeply and sighing in relief as the cool water eases the lingering heat. She offers him a strained smile. “Thanks. It’s just… the potion, I think. It’s supposed to be awful, right?”

He watches her carefully, his brow furrowing in concern. “Yeah, but not like this.”

She shakes off his concern. "It's fine. Time to try it again? I can't exactly remember anything if I'm burnt to a crisp."

Link hunts around his pack for another vial. “Maybe this one will be better? It’s made with butterflies instead of lizards- might be a little more tolerable.”

She glances at it warily and takes a deep breath. The anticipation makes her stomach churn more than the last time. She takes another sip.

It was even spicier and more horrible, if possible. Her eyes water, and she immediately spits it out, not even bothering to swallow.

“Apologies,” she says, trying to regain her composure. “I cannot handle the spice. Do you know if the potion is still effective if mixed with something else?”

"Uhm... let me go check."

He quickly went to go converse with the person that he bought the potions from. Zelda, being careful to breathe through her mouth, picked up the potion vial and examined it curiously. It was thick and viscous. 

She rubbed her temples, feeling a dull ache beginning to form behind her eyes. The heat of the potion was still making her stomach twist, and now the throb in her head was starting to match it.

"Yeah, should be fine," Link called out, jogging back. "She says that a lot of people try to take it with rice."

"Do you think we can mix some honey in with it?" As noxious and foul as that potion was, that might make it bearable. 

"Sure. Might make it a little harder to go down though, because it'll be thicker."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Harder to go down? I think it might be harder  not  to go down if we add honey.”

Link hesitated for a moment, then gave a small grin. “Alright, I’ll grab some.”

He mixed in the honey, and the potion thickened. Handing it back to her, he said, “Here goes nothing.”

Zelda pinched her nose and took a sip. It still burned, but the honey made it more tolerable. “Better,” she admitted, grimacing a little.

Link gave a small smile. “Good enough. Ready to move forward?

She nods. "Onward."

They weren't far up when Link looked ahead and tensed a little. 

"Lizalfos again?" she questioned. Come to think of it, while she knew that there were more monsters, she couldn't think of their names. Curious how the most detailed of observations sometimes seemed to flow out of her, yet at the same time she couldn't name any monsters behind the lizalfos and lynel that Link had told her about. 

He shakes his head. "Fire keese. They'll singe off your eyebrows if you let them. If I remember right, there's also some additional monsters ahead."

He scouted out a secure rock and then had her crouch behind it. 

"You'll be safe? No burning off any eyebrows?" she checked anxiously. He nodded his head. Some of his hair was sticking out from his ponytail, so she reached her hand up to tuck it behind his ears.

"You be safe too." He unclips the Sheikah Slate from his belt. "I'm going to leave it here ready to teleport on this shrine near the stable- if a monster gets close, then teleport away and I'll find you."

She reaches for it eagerly but he gives her a look. " Only for emergencies."

"I'm not a child, I can be trusted." She liked having it in her possession, but she wouldn't worry Link needlessly. 

Link handed it over. "Also, probably don't take out any of your notebooks," he added. "They might start burning." Very good advice, she couldn't imagine any of her notebooks burning, especially her precious memory one. 

Link hovered right in front of her. His face was incredibly close to hers, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going tokiss her forehead. Come to think of it, why had they not kissed before? They  were  married. But instead of kissing her, he just reached down to her hand and gave it a squeeze before going off.

She stared at her hand, still warm from his touch, a mix of confusion and longing rising inside her. She wished that she could write in her relationship notebook to now puzzle this out. Again- was it because their marriage was arranged, or because Link was just trying to give her space? She wasn't sure if she was ready to kiss him yet. Then again, thinking of how soft his lips looked made her reconsider. Forehead and cheek and other types of kisses were things that she did want, she decided, and kissing on the lips was something she'd like to build up to eventually. Did she want to kiss Link on the hand or forehead or cheeks? Yes, definitely. She'd have to ask Link if he'd be amenable to that as well.  

While she was puzzling this out, a small creature appeared in the corner of her vision, scampering to join the shade with her. It was a lizard, a black one with a red belly. She smiled at it and dropped down on her belly to lie down and get a closer look. 

"Why hello there. Are you here to distract me from the fact that I'm just realizing that I've never kissed my husband? He's having me hide just like you, although I must admit you're doing a better job than I."

The lizard didn't respond. Actually, its tail flicked a little, but its body was completely still otherwise except for the tiny movements from its ribcage. She noticed how its legs also flexed and relaxed in tiny increments, or how the frill around its neck fluttered once in a while- sensing for danger, perhaps? She wished that she could take out one of her notebooks to sketch it.

Zelda held her breath, the lizard’s every subtle movement drawing her in, fascinated by how it seemed to melt into the surroundings. She was just beginning to consider inching a bit closer when she heard footsteps approaching. The lizard,sensing the disturbance, scampered off toward the rocks with remarkable speed, disappearing in a flash while she scrambled to hold onto the Slate, ready to teleport if needs be.

She saw Link's boots approach, and then she realized that she was basically lying down in the dirt. 

"Zelda?" Link asked, obviously confused.

"There was a lizard," she says by way of explanation.

"A lizard." And oh, by that tone of voice, she just knows that he's fighting off a small smile.

"It was showing me how to best hide. Obviously, I had to recreate its position- for safety, of course." 

Link extended his hand to her, still looking down at her with a mixture of amusement and concern. As she took his hand and got to her feet, she realized she was covered in fine red dirt, her front dusted with it. She blinked down at herself, a bit sheepish.

"Mayhaps in the future I'll just observe behaviors instead of replicating them," she says a bit sheepishly. This will require a very good wash to get out of her clothes.

Link raises an eyebrow. "I think that's a good idea," he said, his voice laced with amusement. 

They started walking again, Link giving her a sideways glance every so often like he was still trying to picture her lying in the dirt, studying a lizard. She brushed off what she could, but there was no saving the state of her tunic- at least, not until they found a stable. 

“I do hope it was a very insightful lizard,” he added after a beat.

“It was, actually,” Zelda replied, chin lifting. “Very still. Calm. Had this little frill that kept twitching like it was listening. I think it was monitoring for danger.”

“So you were learning survival skills.”

“Exactly,” she said, trying not to smile too much. “Through careful field observation.”

He chuckled, quiet but warm, and she felt very pleased to have amused him. They walked in silence for a moment, the heat of the mountain beginning to press in more noticeably as they climbed. Zelda wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and squinted toward the rising slope.

"Do you know if you ever came up here with any of the Champions?" she asked, her voice a little softer now.

“Once or twice. Usually with Daruk.”

"The Goron Champion?" she guessed. This seemed like the most fitting environment for him. Link nodded his head.

"What was he like?"

Link was quiet for a second, adjusting the strap of his sword as he thought. “Daruk was… loud. In a good way. He laughed a lot. Really believed in everyone. He called me little guy, I think that he had nicknames like that for everyone."

Zelda smiled at that. 

"He had a way of making you feel braver by just standing next to him. And he believed in us, and in all of the Champions, so strongly."

Zelda smiled at the thought of Daruk’s easy confidence. “It must’ve been reassuring to have someone like that around.”

Link nodded, his expression distant for a moment. “Yeah. It made everything feel more manageable, even when we were up against impossible odds. He never seemed to doubt that we could win. It was… comforting."

They turned a corner. This corner seemed familiar- something about the way that the water of the hot springs gleamed and smelled, or the rock formation. 

She was about to turn her head to ask Link if she'd ever been up here before, when suddenly he wasn't there anymore.

Zelda curled her fists anxiously. If Daruk didn't accept, there weren't any other good candidates. She's failed at so much, in this task of getting together her Champions she would not.

He accepts easily with a smile, calls her tiny princess, confidently says that he'll do whatever he can for Hyrule. 

He mentions protection she thinks about ... him. Like a dark spot that keeps intruding on the precious moments of independence she has left. 

Just then, the sounds of monsters growling in the distance broke her reverie. Her guards tensed up the protect her, but Daruk didn't hesitate , he ran right at them. He throws himself at the monsters, parrying and throwing them away. 

Once safe, she turns her attention to the creature of attack, a small dog, trembling violently. Gently she reached out her hand, and the dog ran into her lap. 

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Daruk, shaking slightly. She laughed at him slightly- even one as brave as him, showing fear. It made herself feel more confident, if even he could show weakness then surely she could as well?

She was gasping again when she exited the memory. She needed to write that down, the physical sensations of exiting the memories, that at least was consistent. 

Link had his arm around her waist, that felt good. "Another memory? Are you okay?"

She nods her head. The heat here is so overwhelming, she feels like she can't get in any full breaths. "Yes. I remembered Daruk. It was a good memory." Her voice faltered slightly. Yes, it was a good memory indeed. But it was still one full of ghosts, ghosts whose death was on her.

She reached around for her notebook, but Link stopped her. "It'll burn," he reminded her. 

She groaned. "I want to write it all down. I don't want to forget anything else."

"Hey." She looked into his eyes, and suddenly that made breathing a little easier. "It'll stay long enough for you to get it down."

She nodded her head at him. 

Zelda leaned into Link, steadying herself. The world still felt too bright, too hot, too  present  after the memory.

“I saw him,” she said quietly. “Daruk. He protected a dog, even though he was scared of it. He laughed.”

Link didn’t say anything, but his arm stayed firm around her waist.

She shut her eyes for a moment, grounding herself in the feeling of his touch. The weight of the memory still pressed at her chest.

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke again. “I need to write it down soon.”

“You will.”

She nodded, leaning just a little closer, letting herself breathe.

For now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Getting up here was tricky.

They had to carefully skirt away from all of the lava bits. Then there was a slight climb up to it, and while for him it was easy, for Zelda it was quite tricky. Not everyone could scale up a wall like a lizard or a goat like he could.

"Do I need to prepare myself for this one?" Zelda asked once she was finally on the rock outcropping and had caught her breath.

"No. I don't think it's a particularly bad one." He faintly remembered Zelda cupping his cheek and the concerned scrunch on her face as she checked him over, so he couldn't say that he disliked this memory at all. 

Zelda nodded. He reached down and handed her the Sheikah Slate, and she deftly navigated her way to the photo album. "This one?" she checked, pulling up the correct photo. He nodded his head.

"Give me a moment to get in place- my hypothesis is that if I'm at precisely the right place and angle, it won't take me as long to remember."

He stepped to the side. She took a moment, precisely situating herself. Her hypothesis seemed to be correct, it seemed to take a lot less time between her checking the photo and looking back at the landscape before he recognized the glassy look in her eyes that always came over her. He reached for her hand- he hoped it was helpful, he knew that a grounding touch like that would have been helpful for him. 

He recognized Zelda coming out of her trance by her squeezing his hand tightly and gasping. He should tell her about her physical response, that seemed like something she'd like to write down.

"So?" he asked. 

“So,” Zelda started, still catching her breath. “I can’t believe you were always so reckless!”

Link raised an eyebrow, amused. “And you were always so overly concerned.”

Zelda shook her head, her expression incredulous. “You saw that horde of monsters- my concern was completely justified.”

He crossed his arms. “I had one scratch.”

She crossed her arms back at him, her eyes narrowing. “Luckily!”

He shrugged. But he couldn't exactly blame Zelda for her concern- even now, after defeating Calamity Ganon the scourge of all evil and all, he wasn't sure if he could take on a monster hoard that size. 

Zelda paused, glancing at him with a raised brow. “What’s the plan from here?”

Link smiled softly, his eyes glinting with a quiet suggestion. “Well, first, sit down with me.” He dropped to the ground, patting the space beside him. “We’re going to watch the sunset.”

"But we're facing east and the sun sets in the west."

He shrugs. "It'll still be pretty."

Zelda hesitated a moment, but then sat down beside him. She was already covered in dirt, it's not like she could get much dirtier than she was. She didn't say anything and neither did he, but that was alright, the silence felt comfortable- too precious to break. 

The world around them seemed to settle into a peaceful quiet, the air cooling as the sun began its descent. Zelda leaned slightly toward him, and before he knew it, her head was resting gently on his shoulder. Link’s breath caught in his chest at the unexpected warmth of her against him- he didn't dare move a muscle for fear of disturbing her. 

As the sun sank lower, painting the sky with deep hues of orange, pink, and purple, the landscape seemed to catch fire. The colors swirled and danced above them, casting a soft, glowing light across the land. It was as if the entire world was slowing down, taking a breath before the night began. All the while, Zelda's fingers brushed against his delicately, until eventually she intertwined them together.

"Thank you for showing me the sunset, Link. You were right, it's beautiful," she said softly, breaking the silent spell. 

He nodded, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Zelda moved slightly closer, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made his breath catch. The space between them seemed to shrink with every passing second, and her face grew even closer, her gaze flicking between his eyes and his lips.

"May I? she asked, her hand raising up to lightly brush his cheek.  

Link blinked, taken aback, unsure of what she meant. His thoughts scrambled for an answer, but all he could do was nod, his mind racing. He didn’t know what she was asking, but he didn’t want to deny her anything.

Zelda didn’t wait for him to say another word. She closed the distance between them, her lips brushing gently against his cheek. The soft, fleeting touch left him frozen for a moment, his pulse pounding in his ears. He felt the warmth of her kiss lingering on his skin, a spark that sent a wave of heat through him.

Zelda pulled back just slightly, her gaze lingering on him with an unreadable expression. Link’s heart was still racing, the warmth from her kiss making his head spin. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come.

Instead, he swallowed hard and gave her a sheepish smile, still processing what had just happened. “I… uh…” His voice faltered, still caught in the whirlwind of her kiss. All that he could do was stare at her.

Zelda tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. He couldn't place the expression on her face. "It's getting dark," she says. "Are we going to camp here?"

"Uh... no. I mean, no, if you're okay paragliding again- there's a stable right below us, but it'd be hard to get there on foot." 

"Paragliding is a sensible option but not teleporting?"

His brain is still not present, it's trying to catch up to what happened still. He mumbles out a hopefully coherent response that results in Zelda holding onto him again so they can glide. Which was great. But also terrible. Thank the three goddesses that he was able to paraglide them down safely. 

Zelda stepped away once they landed, brushing the hair from her face as the wind settled. “That wasn’t so bad,” she said, casually- like she hadn’t just kissed him three minutes ago and completely dismantled his ability to think clearly. "With knowing what was about to happen, I almost enjoyed it."

Link nodded, still wordless. His feet were on solid ground, but his mind was somewhere up in the clouds. He busied himself with folding up the paraglider, mostly to avoid looking directly at her while his face was still hot.

Zelda, for her part, seems entirely unfazed. "Shall I then go book us a bed?" she asked. He nods and hands her the rupees.  

He has to share a bed with her tonight. 

He mumbles a quick prayer. 

Dinner was a simple affair- just some meat and a bit of wild herb glazed in honey. He couldn't wait until they got to Rito village so that he could stock up on his cane sugar supply. It'd take his cooking up a notch- he really should've grabbed some in Hateno. 

To his relief, Zelda ate all of it and declared it delicious. He had severely underestimated her sweet tooth.

But her yawns reminded him how long the day had been, so he told her to go ahead and get ready for bed- he’d be in shortly.

He takes their plates to the lake to give them a good wash. He scrubs at them absently. His mind drifts, thoughts circling back to the room where Zelda was already getting ready for bed. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to act, sharing a bed with her tonight.

He gathers up the dishes, but pauses looking at the lake. 

Then, without overthinking it, he dunks his entire head into the water.

The cold water hit like a shock arrow. Exactly what he needed. He stayed there for a moment, letting it freeze the heat out of his face and the thoughts out of his head.

When he finally came up for air, he ran a hand down his dripping face and muttered, “Get it together.”

He dried off with the edge of his tunic, gave the plates a final rinse, and made his way back to the room. The lanterns were already dimmed. Zelda was tucked under the covers, facing away from him.

He changed quietly and slid into bed beside her, careful not to make a sound.

A few moments passed in silence before he heard her voice, soft in the dark.

“Link?”

He shifted slightly, folding his arms behind his head. “Mmm-hmm?”

Zelda’s voice was quiet. "I just wanted to thank you. For being so understanding and caring and for giving me all the space that I need while still being supportive."

He turned his head slightly to look at her silhouette. “Of course,” he said. “Always.”

There was a short pause. Then she added, “Along those lines… I just wanted to be clear about something."

Link sat up a bit more, his gaze sharpening slightly. “Okay?”

She hesitated, her fingers picking at the blanket. “I’m not ready to be kissed. Not yet. Maybe one day, but… not now. I just wanted you to know.”

For a moment, Link blinked, his mind catching up with her words. He felt a flicker of confusion- why bring this up? Which was then followed by something like a quiet disappointment; he too would have liked to kiss her on the cheek or forehead. But if she didn't want that, whatever her reasoning may be or even if she didn't have a reason, then of course he wouldn't kiss her. "Of course- of course, that's okay."

Zelda gave him a small, appreciative smile, and there was a moment of silence before she settled back into the bed. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Link nodded, but his mind was still spinning from the conversation. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he would accept it. He always would.

“Goodnight, Zelda,” he said, his voice softer now.

“Goodnight, Link,” she replied. 

Chapter Text

Zelda brushed the crumbs from her hands, thinking to herself that she needed to find some way to repay Link for constantly making such good meals. He must have caught her eyeing the Sheikah Slate, because he unhooked it from his belt without a word and passed it to her.

She studied the glowing map, then pointed toward a marker tucked into a nearby forest. “Is this the next spot we’re heading to? There’s a path that leads right to the edge from here.”

Link glanced away, scratching the back of his neck. "It  could  be the next spot. We could also go to these spots, they aren't too far off," he said, gesturing to a couple of markers in middle Hyrule. 

Zelda gave him a look. "Why would we go there if we're so close to this one?"

He hesitated. "...I was thinking it was maybe a good idea if we teleported into there, actually."

Zelda’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’ve been against teleporting this whole time! Why change your mind now?"

Link’s jaw tightened just a little. “The Korok Forest… it’s different. You can’t just walk straight in. The fog there, it plays tricks. If you don’t follow the exact path, you get turned around. Some travelers say they’ve gotten lost even while holding hands. I don't want to risk losing you in there."

Zelda smiled, not missing the concern in his voice- but choosing not to comment on it. She was just happy that she was going to be able to teleport again. “Let's save it for later than,” she said brightly. “We’re already in the middle of things- might as well stay on foot while we're in range of these. Save the teleport for when we're farther out.”

“But once we’re done,” she continued, tucking the Sheikah Slate back into her pouch, “we’ll teleport straight into the forest. That can be our reward.”

She grinned, clearly pleased with her own logic. “Sensible  and  well-earned.”

Link huffed a soft laugh. “A reward for walking half of Hyrule?”

She shot him a look. “Exactly. We’ve earned a shortcut. Me especially, since us walking everywhere is your fault."

Link shook his head and smiled, an action far too casual for a guilty man. She made him go and get the horses prepared as retribution. 

After a few moments, Link returned with the horses in tow, the saddles secure and the packs properly fastened. Zelda was already waiting, lightly tapping her heels against the sides of her horse as she gave him an expectant look.

“Everything ready?” she asked, her tone light.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Link replied, adjusting his gloves. “Let’s get moving.”

Both of them kicked their horses into gear and then they were off. The weather was pleasant, an especial relief after the heat of Eldin. 

Zelda glanced at over at Link. "Tell me about the memories. What should I expect?"

"Well two of them... quite frankly, they're awful. One of them is just okay. The last one we'll reach, that's my favorite memory."

Zelda raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Your favorite?”

Link chuckled softly, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. It’s… a good memory.”

She wants to reach for her notebook so she can write that down-  it's important information-  but Link gets right beside her and nudges her shoulder to get her to focus. She wishes that it was more convenient and safe to write while doing other activities; her efficiency would improve so much that way. 

They passed by the same stable that she had cut her hair at, and she waves at her new little friends who had encouraged the new style. It did make her rather feel like more of an adventurer , more bold- and she didn't like her long hair for the short amount of time she had it , it was heavy and hung like a curtain and got much more tangled in the mornings.  

They calmly continued along the edge of the river. Zelda wished that she remembered more about rivers, she could feel details of them bubbling just at the edge of her consciousness, but just out of reach. Her current hypothesis based on past data for her ability to recall technical details is that it only happened instinctually when she wasn't thinking about trying to remember anything, something very annoying when it came to trying to replicate that.  

Slowly, the branches of some of the trees began to look familiar, as did the shape of the path. "I think my recall is getting better," she calls out brightly to Link. "This already is feeling familiar."

Link looked over at her, his expression conflicted, as though he knew what was coming. “It’s good that your memory’s coming back,” he began, his voice cautious. “But I should warn you, this next one… it’s a bad one."

Zelda glanced at him, her determination hardening. “I want everything back that I can get,” she replied firmly. “I need to know. Even the bad ones.”

Link didn't say anything, but his jaw tightened and she could see the weight of concern behind his eyes. But she  needed  to get these memories back- to regain herself, to honor those who came before. 

She recognized the spot from the photo album without having to reference the Slate. From remembering it or memorizing all of the Slate photos, she sadly couldn't say. She smoothly dismounts from her horse and Link follows suit. 

She reaches for the Slate, but Link's hands stop hers. She looks at his face to object, but the burning expression on it stops her. "Before you try to remember- just know that you  aren't  a failure and this  isn't  your fault."

This must really be a bad one then. She's not sure if she'll ever be able to shake off her underlying guilt of the Champion's deaths. Nonetheless, she nods her head. Link lets her take the Slate, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

Her memory comes fast this time. 

She was running...

And everything was burning. No matter how hard the rain came down, it all was burning. The air was burning, the castle was burning, her lungs were burning, everything was on fire. 

Link's grip on her wrist was ironclad. He had held on tightly to her despite all of her attempts to get out of his grasp and go die with the rest of the kingdom.

She was running. Left right left right. She couldn't breathe because the air was burning. 

She tripped.

And then everything came out. About how she was just a failure, how she condemned everyone to death, how it was all her fault...

All her fault, all her fault, all her fault. 

She's still crying into Link's shoulder and he's still holding her, but now it's sunny and the fire is gone. The contrast is so sharp that it makes her feel sick. 

"I killed them Link," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I killed them all."

Link just makes some shushing noises, bringing her closer and lightly rocking her. "It's not your fault," he whispers to her over and over. "Not your fault."

Chapter Text

Link just sits there holding Zelda for an hour.

She doesn't stop crying for a long time. Not the loud kind, just those awful, quiet sobs that shake her whole body. He doesn't say much- what is there to say? He just keeps his arms around her, grounding her, keeping her here. He rocks her gently, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades.

Eventually, her sobs start to slow. He feels her fingers curl slightly against his tunic, less from pain and more like she’s just trying to stay tethered. Her breath is still uneven, but she’s not crying anymore.

Her fingers shift again- then she pulls back. Slowly, like it takes effort just to lift her head . Her eyes are glassy, rimmed red. She doesn’t look at him for long. Just enough to meet his gaze and then lower hers again, like the weight of it is too much.

Link lets her go, his arms falling away reluctantly. The air feels colder without her close. He watches as she wipes at her cheeks, then folds her hands in her lap like she’s trying to compose herself, piece by piece.

“We should eat,” he says gently.

Zelda nods, but she doesn’t move. Just sits there on the grass, hunched and quiet, like she’s forgotten how her body works.

He looks around. It's getting darker, but this part of Hyrule has always been safe from monsters. Guardians didn't even really come by this specific corner very often, if any of them were still around and corrupted. There are stables close by in two directions, but he doesn't want to take her there. Too many people. Too much noise. She needs quiet now. Safety.

He makes the call silently.

They’ll camp here tonight.

He rises to his feet and begins moving, always keeping Zelda in the corner of his eye. First, he takes the time to secure their horses, getting out some food and water for the night for them. Next, he focuses on attending to making a fire- finding some dry kindling, snapping it to check for moisture, before collecting some rocks and scraping away some grass and soil with his feet to make a fire pit. 

All the while, Zelda's just sitting there, her knees drawn to her chest, her gaze on the ground.

Link works quickly but quietly, stacking the wood with practiced ease. A few sparks from his flint and the fire begins to catch, flickering gently against the gathering dusk. He tends the flame until it holds steady, then opens the Slate and summons some veggie onigiri he has stored in there.

He gets out some honey and drizzles it over the onigiri, hoping the sweetness might tempt her appetite. He goes over to where Zelda is still curled up.

"It's got honey in it," he says, holding out the onigiri.

She doesn’t respond, but after a moment she reaches out and takes it from him. Her fingers are cold.

“I’ll make buttered apples next,” he offers. “If you finish that.”

Her voice is hoarse when she finally speaks. “Okay.”

It’s the first thing she’s said in a while. He nods, and quietly gets to work.

The apples don't take long to cook. He's working with just his travel skillet instead of a cooking pot, so he has to cut the pieces really small and try hard not to burn himself. He melts butter and cinnamon in it.

Once done, he brings the apple over to Zelda, who has been working through the onigiri through small nibbles. She seems to like the apples a little more, but not much. 

Link watches Zelda for a moment longer as she takes another bite of the apples, her movements still sluggish, her eyes distant. He can tell she’s not really hungry, but at least she’s eating. That’s something, right?

He watches her for a minute more, then gets up to make the tent. It's flat here so they'll be able to sleep comfortably and making it won't be too tricky. He sets down the poles then unfurls the tent frame , a small one that'll lead to a tight fit in the tent, but it'll do. He secures the stakes into the earth, making sure it's steady, then arranges the bedrolls inside. Then, after considering it a moment, he pushes the bedrolls right next to each other, so that it'll be easier for him to hold Zelda if her night terrors come back. 

When the tent is ready, he looks over at Zelda. She’s still sitting there, moving sluggishly, hesitant to get up. He walks over to her and gently touches her shoulder, then gestures toward the tent. “Let’s go,” he says quietly.

Zelda looks up at him, then slowly stands. He waits as she takes her time, then guides her to the tent. She steps inside, and he follows behind, making sure she’s settled.

She wakes up screaming one time and with loud gasps and heavy breathing two more times. After the last wake-up, she gives up on sleep, just trembles in his arms. He just holds her as closely as he dares.  

Eventually, the sky begins to lighten- just barely, that soft gray that comes before sunrise. Enough that the stal enemies will be dead and enough for them to pretend like they were waking up at a reasonable time. 

Zelda sits up, runs a hand through her hair, and stretches stiffly. She’s quiet for a while, then says, too lightly, “Morning.”

"Morning," he responds. He'll get used to the sight of morning-Zelda one day. 

Zelda pushes her hair back from her face and launches into a ramble. "I was thinking buttered apples for breakfast again this morning, seeing as we don't have access to a cooking pot, unless we don't have the right ingredients? They turned out very well yesterday, my current hypothesis is that anything with butter and cinnamon would be delicious. You should have told me about them sooner- they can be my next cooking lesson."

He blinks trying to parse out her words. He's sleepy and she's very pretty . 

"It's not that hard to make. I can show you once we get access to an actual cooking pot," he says eventually. "For now, you better just watch me, the skillet over an open flame can be tricky."

"One day, I'm going to get good enough that I can be the one cooking you food for breakfast, and you won't have to swoop in and rescue me," she declared confidently. "And then, I can test my cinnamon and butter hypothesis. I want to try it in scrambled eggs."

Link is very glad that he's in charge of cooking for now. All of her egg dish combinations sounded horrible, regardless of the skill level of the person making it.

The fire sets easily. He stored some kindling in the tent so they wouldn't have to worry about dew-wet wood. 

Still, Zelda busies herself wandering the edge of camp, collecting twigs and leaves that are far too damp or too thick to catch properly. She looks determined, though, crouching down with furrowed brows, piling her finds in a crooked stack like it’s her personal contribution to breakfast. Link doesn’t say anything about the quality. He just nods approvingly whenever she glances over at him.

The sky is still pale and washed out, the first hints of gold brushing the tops of the trees. It’s early- early enough that the night creatures are gone, but not so late that they’ve missed the quiet.

Link slices the apples into small chunks, then drops a slab of butter into the skillet. It hisses and melts, taking on a warm, rich smell as he sprinkles in cinnamon. The scent rises with the heat, drifting over to where Zelda is now sitting cross-legged near the fire, watching intently.

“Not that much trickier than baked apples,” he says, keeping his tone light. “But the skillet’s easy to scorch if you’re not paying attention.”

“I  am  paying attention,” she replies, a little primly, though her hair’s a mess and she’s blinking like she didn’t sleep at all, probably because she didn't.

She quiets for a moment, watching him stir the apples.

Then- more softly- "You said- you said one more bad memory?"

He glances up at the apples, but she's carefully not looking at him. "Yeah."

"I must admit, I took some of your advice a little blithely, which is not a mistake I'll be making again. Just... how bad is it?"

Which is worse- running for your life while your friends and kingdom are dying, or having your own  father  berate you for wanting to work at something helpful that you were passionate about? He knew which memory made  him  angrier. 

"That one was a lot worse. The next one... it's really discouraging? Your father yells at you."

"Oh."

"Do you want to take a break? You've been pushing yourself pretty hard." 

“No,” she says, too fast. “Of course I don’t want a break. Nor do I need one.”

Her voice drops.

“What I want is to remember. All of it.”

She folds her arms around her knees, gaze distant.

“I can’t forget the people I lost,” she murmurs. “Not when I might’ve been the reason they-” she cuts off.

Link turns back to the skillet. He doesn’t say anything. But he keeps the fire steady, and the apples from burning.

Chapter Text

Link tries to gently suggest two more times that they should hold off on this, but she is insistent. She  can't  hold off. Part of her, her pragmatic side, argues that there's no need to prolong this- just get it over with. But deeper than that, there’s something sharp and relentless driving her forward. A need to  know . To see what happened. To understand exactly how much of it was her fault.

She doesn’t remember the Champions. Not really. But they’re gone because of her, aren’t they? So it feels like a duty- no, a  debt - to piece their stories back together. To look at what she lost. To carry it, properly, the way she should have from the beginning

So, despite Link's warying and pleading glances, they ride.  The sun is climbing, the wind has teeth, and neither of them speaks much as they pass through the thinning woods. It feels quieter than it should be, like the world itself is holding its breath.

It is only as they exit the woods and begin the path to the next memory location that Zelda realizes that she's never looked directly at the castle, something unavoidable now since that is the dead-on direction that they are heading. Every time its been in her sight line before, she turned her head- keeping it in the corner of her vision, blurry and unacknowledged. But now, as they crest a ridge and the trees thin, it’s just there. Bold and broken and utterly inescapable.

Her throat tightens.

She tells herself it’s the chill in the air, the wind in her lungs. But her fingers curl a little tighter around the reins, and something in her chest coils up like it’s bracing for impact. She feels the weight of the castle like a presence- something watching her. Trapping her.

That’s ridiculous, of course. She knows that. 

And yet…

She swallows hard and keeps her eyes on it, even though every instinct is telling her to look away again. Looking at it makes her feel small. Cornered. Like if she stared too long, she’d find herself behind those walls again- alone, voiceless, exhausted, waiting for something to end. 

But she’s not trapped.

Not anymore.

She exhales slowly through her nose, trying to steady the quiet tremble in her hands- and it’s then she notices Link.

He’s a few paces ahead, leading the way down the narrow slope, but he keeps glancing back at her- too often for it to be casual. His posture is tight, shoulders drawn high, and his ears keep twitching at every sound, like he’s expecting something to leap from the shadows. His eyes scan the treeline, then flick back to her, and then to the path again.

"Are there monsters in these parts?" she calls out. Her voice is shaky, but not too shaky. Hopefully Link doesn't notice.

He shakes his head. "Not monsters." His voice implies that that's for a reason. 

Other than the terrifying prison- castle- looming right ahead, she can't spot anything else intimidating. They're riding through a wide meadow, occasionally dotted by trees. Maybe he just doesn't like how open it is. 

Technically, this is the shortest distance that they've had to travel between memory spots. It doesn't feel that way. She swears that the wind bites colder with every step, and she wishes that she had a thermometer or other way to objectively measure the weather to see how accurate that is. 

Not soon enough, they arrive.

Link unmounts his horse, looking around cautiously before helping Zelda off of hers.

"Your hands are shaking," he says.

"So are yours," she replies. Faint tremors are running through them. 

Link draws his hands back. She shouldn't have said anything, now her hands feel cold and empty. His eyes won't stay in one place, they keep flicking around anxiously. 

She reaches for the Slate at his hips and he jumps slightly, his hand instinctively reaching back for his sword. She immediately withdraws.

"Sorry," Link mumbles. Now he can't keep eye contact with her. He reaches around for the Slate and hands it to her. 

She scrolls to the correct album picture. Lovely, this will require her to face the castle head-on. 

She looks between the picture and the castle. Mostly the picture, since she still very much dislikes looking at the castle. Should she reposition herself? She shuffles around a little. This hasn’t taken this long before, but she also hasn’t been so reticent to look at what’s in front of her before.

Get this over with, she tells herself. Just a picture. Just a memory. Just a castle.

She glances down at the picture and then forces herself to look up.

And the moment she does, the world slips sideways.

Her vision blurs- not from tears, though they’re close- but like the edges of the castle are smudged, trembling. The rest of the field seems to fall away, tunneled and distant. Only the castle remains. Like it’s stepping forward. Like it sees her.

She can’t breathe.

Just a castle, she tries again, but the words echo hollow in her head.

Just a castle. Just a castle. Just a cage. Just a tomb.

Does she need to breathe? Does she even have a body? Is she anything more than shimmering light, trying to fight its way out of the darkness?

It stares back.

She doesn’t blink.

She can’t.

It's a relief when she feels her mind trying to pull her down to another memory, she lets it wash her away, away from this horrible sight.

"H ero of Hyrule, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness... " she starts.

She didn't want to do this. But her wants had never mattered. 

"Y ou have shown unflinching bravery and skill in the face of darkness and adversity ."

He's kneeling down in perfect form. Everything about him is perfect. The perfect knight and the wayward Princess. 

The Champions are whispering around her. She takes a breath and continues her speech. She's used to whispers. 

"F ailure... " she hears one of them murmur. She looks at her hand. Nothing. She is a failure . Another deep sigh, another part of the speech. 

He doesn't look up at her the entire time. 

"Goodness. You were under exaggerating when you said that I disliked you. It was like I was reciting your funeral elegy."

It's not Link's fault- really it's not- he's been nothing but sweet and caring ever since the moment she first opened her eyes. But she still has to shake off the irritation that she feels just looking at him. 

Link stiffens.

"It's not that I dislike you  now  of course," she's quick to explain. "I just seemed very glum back then. That's all." Glum is one word to describe it. Irritated, angry, annoyed, frustrated, those were other words that seemed apt.

"It's alright, Princess."

She's come around on him calling her Princess, mostly. She can't help herself when his voice softens and feels so fond around the word. This time it feels formal, like how the Zora called her Princess.

She takes the Slate and scrolls through the photo album. Then she pauses.

"I did not realize that one of the memories was actually inside the castle," she started slowly. Had she realized, her whole decision-making process likely would have been different.

"We can always come back to it," Link offers. His voice sounds a bit desperate.

"I don't know if I'll be brave enough to come back to it," she admits. She wants to remember this and then have the entire castle ripped off from the ground so she never has to look at it again. 

"I could- I could just tell you all about what I remember? You don't need to regain this memory," Link offers. 

She shakes her head. She needs every scrap she can get. 

She can do this.

She has to.

Just a memory.

Just a castle.

Just-

She turns away before she can finish the thought. 

Chapter Text

"Shall we go then?" Zelda asks, nodding in the general direction of the castle.

Link thought that this was a bad idea. Zelda was clearly trying to keep it under control, but she started trembling every time she looked directly at that castle.

"There's a side entrance that we can take that gets us pretty close to where the memory spot is," he replies. Never mind that it required going through the lockup. Not where he'd prefer to take Zelda, but he'd prefer to keep her far away from here altogether. "That'll be the safest."

"Very well then," she says with a brave face. Her voice is very shaky.

"Are you sure -"

"Yes, Link. I am sure."

This was a mistake, this was a mistake, this was a mistake.

Because they hadn't run across any activated Guardians- yet. But he still wasn't confident enough to say that they weren't out there. And apart from that, the castle was swarming with monsters. He could forge ahead and clear the way, but what if one attacked Zelda while his back was turned? This was a really bad idea. 

He guides Zelda over to the spot where he wants to paraglide over. "Do you think that you can hold on tight enough?" he checks. 

In response, Zelda squeezed onto his torso, almost tighter than the first time they'd done this. Her arms and hands weren't shaking, she was holding on too tightly for that. He started to run then they took off.  

Ahead of them, the castle loomed like a carcass. Blackened stone. Crumbling towers. The landscape was too still- too still. 

They landed with a soft thud in the shadow of a wall near the passage. Zelda pulled back quickly once they touched ground, straightening with the practiced stiffness of someone trying very hard to look composed.

She didn’t speak.

Link didn’t either.

He listened.

Still no hum of machinery or clattering of joints. That wasn't comforting.

"Stay behind me. This entrance shouldn't have as many monsters as the rest of the castle, but there still are a few," he instructed Zelda as he led her into the tunnel.

A pair of keese dropped from the ceiling, but Link’s sword was already in motion- one clean arc and both crumpled to the ground. He caught Zelda glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, checking that he was unharmed. He gave a quick nod and continued forward, guiding her deeper into the tunnel.

"The minecart should get us there," he said as soon as they approached it. He helped her into it, and she stiffly gripped the edge of the cart so tightly that her knuckles went pale. He climbed in beside her and set the cart off. 

The minecart jolted to life with a screech of metal on metal, then surged forward.

Wind slammed into them as they gained speed, funneling down the narrow passage. Torchlight stretched into blurred streaks on the stone walls, flickering and warping as the cart rocketed past.

Another pair of keese swooped toward them- he drew his sword again, striking them down in a quick, practiced motion. Their bodies hit the tracks and vanished behind them. He stayed alert the entire ride.

Finally, the cart stopped with a jolt. He helped Zelda out before going ahead to check on monsters nearby- nothing. He jogged back. 

"I'm going to go scout ahead," he said, unclipping the Slate. "If there are any monsters-"

"Then use the Slate and teleport away. Which shrine?"

He thought on that a moment before choosing the one in the middle of Korok forest. Wouldn't take him that much longer to get there than a stable, and she'd be guaranteed to be safe there. 

"Be safe," she said fervently. She reached for his hand and then brought it to her mouth for a kiss.

His cheeks reddened, but he was too focused to become flustered. He just gave her hands a squeeze. 

Then he turned and moved quickly, silently, deeper into the tunnel.

His bow was up the second he stepped into the lockup. Moblins.

Two of them. Armed. Talking in low growls that echoed off the stone.

He nocked an arrow, loosed it between a break in the bars. One down. The other roared and came charging, but Link was already moving- dodging around the corner, drawing his sword. A clean strike to the throat. The moblin dropped.

He carefully examined every cell and took out two lizalfos and one more moblin. He also cautiously checked for any malice, but all of that seemed gone, even the permeating stench of it was absent. Just blood and dust now. 

He moved on, exiting through a hole in the wall to the castle grounds proper. His instincts still had him braced for a fight.

A lizalfos lay in wait near the courtyard- he spotted the glint of its eyes just in time. He slid into a roll, came up beneath it, and stabbed upward. Another down.

No Guardians.

He took a long, cautious route toward Zelda’s tower, hugging shadows, checking every blind spot.

Two more bokoblins. He took them out from a distance. A lizalfos. Same result.

Still no Guardians.

No sounds of mechanical limbs clacking on stone. No red searchlights.

It wasn’t right.

He stopped behind a crumbling pillar and waited- listened. There was nothing but the wind and the distant crack of broken shingles falling somewhere behind him.

He double-checked the route. He wanted to triple-check, but Zelda was waiting, and she'd surely get worried about him.

He checked everything with care as he circled back to where he came from. He was confident about the no monsters at least, unless they decided to come over from a different part of the castle. He didn't like that he could hear his footsteps. 

When he reached the tunnel again, he paused just before the entrance, peering around the edge to check that Zelda was still there.

She was.

Sitting in the minecart exactly where he’d left her, arms wrapped tightly around herself now. She didn’t see him yet. Her head was slightly bowed.

She looked small.

He stepped into view, and she looked up instantly. Her face barely changed, but relief passed through her eyes.

"Are you alright?" she checked. 

"No injuries," he confirmed.

He reached for her hand. Was it shaking even more?

Yes. Violently now.

She tried to stand, but her legs gave out beneath her. He caught her before she hit the floor of the tunnel, arms wrapping instinctively around her. She was trembling from head to toe.

"Zel, hey," he said, trying to keep his own voice steady even though his own heart was pounding. "I'm right here. You're alright."

He wanted to offer her a thousand reassurances, but they died on his tongue. How could he, when they had returned to her jail cell, and he couldn't even ensure her safety?

She didn't speak, her breath was too fast for that, but she held onto his hand tightly while she forced herself up. She was the one tugging him forward now, her grip on his hand iron-tight. Before they reached the lockup, he repositioned them so that he was clasping her wrist- 'so that I can use both of my hands quickly if I need to, but I won't let go'- then they proceeded.

They exited through a crumbling hole in the wall. He was quick to guide her to secure spots while he kept on checking for monsters and especially guardians, but there was nothing.

Finally, they made the quick dash over to the entrance of the staircase to her room. Inside, the staircase was crumbling. He had made it up here okay, but he didn't know if it could hold two people. 

Zelda hesitated at the base of the stairs. Her hand slipped from his wrist and found the stone wall for balance, but her legs still looked unsteady. Link stepped in front of her, testing the first step again with his weight- it groaned but held.

“I’ll go first,” he said. “One step at a time. Hold onto me.”

She nodded shakily, eyes still wide, but she placed one hand on his shoulder. With his other arm braced against the wall and one hand supporting her behind him, they moved slowly upward, step by step, Link taking most of her weight when the stones shifted beneath them.

It was a short climb, but it felt endless. Every creak beneath their feet, every gust of wind that rattled through the broken stone, made his pulse jump. Still no Guardians. The quiet was heavy.

They reached the top, the narrow landing just before the door to her room. Link glanced at it- what remained of the wooden door was rotted and hanging off its hinges. The inside, he already knew, was worse.

He turned to her gently.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She looked at him, confused for half a second. Then something in his face must have told her why. She obeyed.

He guided her inside with both hands on her shoulders, steering her through the wreckage: the shattered bookshelves, the cracked mirror, the fragments of whatever belongings hadn’t crumbled away. He didn’t let her stumble. She didn’t see any of it.

They crossed the room in silence, just the sound of their footsteps crunching over glass and grit.

Then the door to the walkway appeared- intact, slightly ajar. He led her through it and out into the open air again.

The wind caught her hair as she blinked slowly, adjusting to the shift in light. The narrow stone bridge stretched between towers beneath the sky, eerily quiet, just like the rest of the castle.

She was still trembling- worse now, if anything. Her hands gripped the stone railing as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. Wind tugged at her clothes, her hair, but she barely moved, frozen in place.

Link hovered near, scanning every rooftop and crumbled ledge around them. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, every sense straining. Still no sound. Still no Guardians.

Still nothing.

Then Zelda moved.

She let go of the railing just long enough to reach for the Slate hanging at his side. He had to pull up the picture for her, her hands kept shaking too badly for the Slate to register her touch. 

She stared at the Slate and then the spot in front of her. 

Her trembling stopped.

He took a step closer, eyes still tracking every ledge and tower window.

Then- movement.

Out of the corner of his eye, high on a nearby parapet, just beyond the reach of shadow, something gleamed. The shape. The size. The angle of the legs- 

Guardian.

His blood ran cold. He spun, shield out, body placing itself squarely in front of her before he could even process what he was doing. His knees bent, his stance braced. He was never good at parrying the blasts- but his body could block it. Zelda would be okay. 

But it didn’t move. There was no red glow.

He looked again.

Still. Missing a leg. Inert.

His pulse thundered.

"Link?" Zelda asked from behind him. She sounded scared- no, alarmed. 

He didn't think the guardian was active. Or was it? His vision was getting blurry, he couldn't tell. He snapped at her to stay behind him. He wanted to rely on his hearing but that also wasn't working right, he couldn't hear the Guardian. He braced himself again for impact, all he could do to protect her when he was like this.  

Zelda grabbed his arm.

Blue flared.

And Hyrule Castle melted away beneath his feet.

Chapter Text

The world reassembled dizzyingly around her. 

She felt her stomach threaten to come out of her throat- but she forcefully swallowed it down, though not the nausea. Her legs trembled from the teleport, from the memory, from everything. 

Link stood beside her, disarmed and alert, his eyes darting through the mist as if it might lunge at them.

“Link,” she said gently, “we’re alright.”

He was gasping and looking around like whatever had spooked him earlier was going to come out of the fog and attack. 

"Link," she said again. "We're safe now. I don't know what that was earlier- but it's gone now."

Link finally set his shield onto his back, but he was still strung taught like a bow. She reached for his wrist then felt around for his pulse. "Your heartbeat is going crazy fast. 

He reached for her neck. "So is yours."

She gave a small breathless laugh. It wasn't even that funny. Both of them were just so concerned for the other.

"I thought there was a Guardian attacking," he said with a low voice.

"What are those? I mentioned something about them both with my most recently acquired memory and the one with the rain, but I don't actually know what they are."

Link didn’t answer right away. His eyes were still scanning the trees.

“They’re machines,” he said finally. “Ancient ones. Made to protect the kingdom.” He exhaled hard. “But they turned on us. On everyone.”

Zelda stared at him. The chill in her spine had nothing to do with the forest air.

"I- I created them?" Her voice was small. "No. Not created. But I did help bring them back."

Link's voice was bitter. "You wanted to. Maybe if your father had allowed you to actually look into them then we could have learned enough about them to stop them before it ever became a problem." 

Her hands curled into fists. She was feeling a lot of things- nauseated from travel, off balance , shaky from the castle. But she also felt incredibly small from her memory. "My father said it was a distraction. Was it? I- I can't tell. I remember feeling ashamed."

"I know about as much as you do at this point. In my- in  my  opinion, he did more harm than good. Maybe if he had supported you and not kept you from the things you loved, then you would have been able to unlock your powers even earlier."

Zelda didn’t know what to say to that. She just looked at him, heart heavy with things she couldn’t fix.

Her legs were still trembling, and the pressure behind her eyes hadn’t let up since the castle. She’d been clenching her jaw so tightly it ached. Everything inside her felt like it was buzzing and fraying at the edges.

She exhaled slowly, then turned and slumped against the shrine, sliding down until she was sitting. The stone was cold against her back, but it grounded her. For the first time since they’d arrived, she let herself breathe.

She patted the ground next to her. “Sit down with me.”

Link hesitated, glancing around the quiet clearing like he was expecting something to burst through the mist. She sighed and grabbed his hand, tugging at him gently.

“Come on. You'll be able to protect me from anything that might attack even if you sit down, I promise.”

He gave in, knees bending with a quiet sigh as he sank down beside her. His posture was still rigid, like his body hadn’t gotten the message that they weren’t in danger anymore.

Zelda watched him out of the corner of her eye. Then, carefully, she reached for his arm and guided it around her back. He blinked but didn’t resist as she leaned into him.

“Relax,” she murmured.

Link gave a breath that might’ve been a laugh, or just exhaustion. After a moment, he let his head tilt slightly, resting against hers. His tension slowly unwound, bit by bit.

Zelda shifted so his head fell against her shoulder. Her fingers drifted up, weaving absently through his hair. It was soft. 

"Do you know where the memory spot is?" she asked idly. "I must admit, this place looks very different from any of the photos, though I believe I got us to the correct spot."

"You teleported us to one of the peripheral shrines in the lost woods, not the one next to the Deku tree. That's the one that we want. I'll have to tie our arms together or something for us navigating the forest, hopefully that keeps us together."

"We can teleport again," she suggested.

Link seemed to think about it, seemingly weighing together several variables in his head. "Okay."

"Truly? I expected to have to put in much more persuasive power for you to agree."

"I don't like these woods. They have a way of turning you around. I don't want to risk losing you in them- I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you again."

Zelda felt her cheeks flush, despite the fact or maybe because of the fact that he said it so matter-of-factly. 

She stood, brushing her hands on her pants, but the moment she straightened, the world gave a sudden, nauseating tilt. She caught herself against the shrine with a quiet breath through her nose.

Link was already watching her, brows drawn. “You alright?”

“Yes,” she said, too quickly, and passed him the Slate. She didn't want to take them to the wrong spot. "You do it."

He flashed her a look she couldn't understand, but she was dizzy and disoriented, she couldn't be expected to understand him all the time, and then they were dissolving again.

They reassembled near the Great Deku Tree, and Zelda immediately dropped to her knees.

She didn’t even have time to brace for it- her body lurched forward as if making up for earlier restraint, and she vomited hard into the grass. It felt violent, like her stomach had been waiting for this chance to strike back.

Link was beside her in an instant, one hand rubbing slow circles on her back. He didn’t say anything, just stayed close while she heaved and spit and tried to breathe through the burn in her throat.

When it was over, she stayed there for a moment, forehead nearly touching the earth, tears stinging her eyes. She felt wrung out and wretched.

“I love teleportation,” she said hoarsely, “and this is a betrayal. Why must it hate me so much?”

One of Link's hands kept rubbing her back while the other one rooted around for some water that he handed to her. She swished some water around in her mouth then spat it out, then took a long sip of it .  

“Thanks,” she muttered, voice rough.

Link stayed quiet, just kept rubbing her back.

And then- tears. She didn’t even feel them coming. One blink and her eyes were full , another and they were falling. Her shoulders shook once, then again, and she buried her face in her hands.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said, voice thick. “I’m fine. I just - I don’t know.”

Link didn’t say anything. He just shifted closer and let his arm settle around her shoulders.

Zelda let herself lean into him, just a little. The heat behind her eyes wouldn’t stop, no matter how tightly she pressed her palms against them.

"I'm not even sad. Or I don't think I am. I just need everything to stop being such a confusing emotional mess for a minute."

Link made a soft noise in acknowledgment, his hand still moving in slow, grounding circles on her back.

It was a long moment before she pulled her hands away from her face, sniffling. Her eyes were red and her nose was running , and she was about to apologize for the state she was in when she noticed movement.

A pair of wide, curious eyes peeked out from behind a tree root. Then another. And another.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

Link looked up just as one of the Koroks gave a delighted little squeak and waved a leaf-shaped hand.

Zelda buried her face in his shoulder, mortified. “They’ve been watching this whole time.”

Link huffed a quiet laugh beside her. “They’re forest spirits. I think they’ve seen worse.”

“Not helping,” she muttered.

One of the Koroks toddled a little closer, holding out a flower. Link gently took it, looking entirely unbothered.

Zelda groaned. “Please tell me they don’t tell the Deku Tree everything.”

“They absolutely do,” Link said, far too casually.

She shoved him weakly in the side, which only made him laugh again.

The Koroks, emboldened by their welcome, began to chirp and rustle excitedly, clearly trying to herd them in a certain direction.

“I think they want us to go,” Link said, rising to his feet and offering Zelda a hand.

She took it, still sniffling a little but managing a small, embarrassed smile. “Wonderful. Nothing like arriving at a sacred meeting with the forest guardian while looking like I’ve wept for a century.”

“You look fine,” Link said simply . “Just don’t throw up on him.”

“Link.”

He grinned, unrepentant.

They followed the Koroks through the trees, the path winding gently uphill. The mist had thinned here, sunlight breaking through in golden patches. The air smelled clean and alive - earthy moss and sweet bark and something ancient beneath it all.

They crested the slope- and there it was.

The pedestal.

Zelda’s breath hitched. A sharp, invisible weight slammed into her chest like a punch. Her vision tunneled. 

"Your master will come to you," she murmured reassuringly to the sword. Of this, she had no doubt. The strength of her belief in Link was the only thing stronger than her resolve of what she must do to keep him safe. 

She was interrupted from her reverie from the Deku Tree. 

"What is it that you are planning to do next, Princess?" 

She had mud in her hair and blood on her hands, but she was at peace. She knew what she had to do. 

"My role is unfinished," she replied. 

Then she hesitated for a second. Nothing would stop her, but she did not know if she would survive this.

" ...when he returns, can you please relay this message-"

The Deku Tree interrupted. "Words intended for him would sound much better in the tones of your voice, don't you think?"

She nodded back. Link would learn what she had to share, of this she was determined. 

Zelda staggered back from the pedestal, gasping. Her knees gave out, and Link caught her before she hit the ground. She clung to him, fingers curled tight in the fabric of his tunic, chest heaving like she couldn’t get air fast enough.

“Too much,” she rasped. “Too soon.”

Link lowered them both to the grass, one arm steady around her, the other bracing them upright. He didn’t press, just held her while she rode it out.

Her breathing gradually steadied, though her whole body still trembled. She shut her eyes tight and leaned into him.

For a while, there was only the rustle of the leaves and the steady rhythm of Link’s breathing beside her.

Zelda drew in a slow breath. Then another. She sat up a little, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. Her fingers were shaking, but less so now.

She straightened her spine.

Then, gently, a voice rolled through the clearing like wind through the branches.

" I am glad to see you again, Princess. You are unchanged from when I last saw you. 

Zelda gave a tired smile. “I’m not so sure about that. I’ve lost my memories."

“A heavy thing to lose,” he murmured. “And yet, you are still you. The core remains, even if a few petals are missing.”

She nodded, gaze downcast. "There was something I asked you to tell Link. Do you know what it was?"

The Deku Tree's eyes closed for a moment. "You had something on your heart. New and delicate. Meant only for him, at first."

Zelda frowned, her brow furrowed. "What was it?"

He didn't answer directly. "It is something you both will find soon in due time."

Zelda didn't press. Her headache pressed more- her mind was going into overdrive, trying to put together pieces, almost remembering something important but not quite. 

Zelda stayed quiet, mind buzzing uselessly. The harder she tried to grasp the thought, the further it slipped. Whatever it was, it lived just beyond her reach- like light behind mist.

She leaned into Link a little more. The answer would come eventually. 

Chapter Text

Link eased into bed with a slight groan.

It hadn't even been that strenuous of a day physically, he didn't know why he was so tired, but he felt exhausted down to the bone. 

There wasn't a changing screen here, so he just shooed out all of the koroks then basically faceplanted into the small bed that they made and closed his eyes so that Zelda could change into pajamas. Not being surrounded by people for once was nice. 

The leaves crinkled as she climbed in beside him.

For a few moments, there was only the sound of her shifting to get comfortable- then the faintest hitch in her breath.

He opened his eyes.

She was crying again.

Link didn’t ask why. He just turned toward her and reached out, pulling her in close.

A part of him knew that he shouldn't do this. But he was tired and there was no one around to judge. So he pulled Zelda in closer than he normally did, till she was curled into his chest and their legs were tangled together. He slung one arm around her waist and held tight.

Zelda still didn't say anything. He liked it when she said stuff, her voice was pretty, but this was okay too. He gently ran his unoccupied fingers through her hair. 

Gradually, her breathing evened out. The tension in her hands eased, and her grip around his waist loosened.

He stayed still for a while longer, just in case. Listening. Watching the soft rise and fall of her shoulders.

She didn’t stir.

He let his eyes fall shut.

He woke to the sound of Zelda letting out a gasp.

Sharp, sudden- like she'd surfaced from deep underwater.

He sat up himself, prepared to soothe her from another nightmare. But instead, Zelda climbed out of bed and began frantically searching for... something.

"Zel? What's up?" he called out, sitting up sleepy and confused.

Zelda was already across the small room. "Do you have the Slate Link? I need a better light source, these pods aren't enough. Unless we can pick them and they'll continue to glow? That might be sufficient. If it's chemical luminescence then it might be possible, but if it's an enzyme reaction then it might be tied to the root system, and picking it would stop it immediately unless there's a delay, but I don't know I just need to  see - I need the Slate." Her speech was extremely fast, each word cutting into the next, and he could barely understand her.

"Zel- slow down, what are you looking for?"

"My textbook, the one on loan from the Zora. I need it, I need to research something."

Link blinked at her. His sleepy mind couldn't keep up. "It's the middle of the night."

She was still searching around frantically, and he was out of bed now and right next to her. 

"I know it's late, but I  need  to look into this- it's incredibly important, if I'm correct. Important? I'm not sure if that's the best descriptor. No, important fits. Regardless, I need to find it." 

Link reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Zelda.” His voice was quiet, still thick with sleep. “Hey. Breathe.”

She stilled, just barely, eyes darting in the low light.

He reached for her hand. It was sweaty but it wasn't shaking. He led her to bed.

"Lay down. I'm going to stroke your hair till you fall asleep again, and then you can research this in the morning. I promise that whatever this is, it can wait."

“I don’t know if it can wait-” Zelda started. He was facing her, gently moving his hand through her hair. “And I need to find this out-”

"Morning."

"But-"

" M orning . "

She was asleep before she could protest again. 

Link wasn’t sure what time it was when he opened his eyes again- just that it was early, and Zelda was already moving.

She was sitting cross-legged near the edge of the bed, her book open and her hair still messy from sleep. The Sheikah Slate sat beside her, casting a pale blue glow across the page as she scribbled notes at an alarming speed.

He sighed, quietly, and pushed himself upright.

No use trying to stop her now.

Still groggy, he wandered over to the little korok shop. There wasn't anyone here to man it since he had kicked them all out, but he'd just pick out what he wanted and then leave his money on the counter. 

He picked out some bananas that he had no idea how they got and a small bottle of maple syrup labeled in tiny Korok handwriting:  Tree Juice! Very Good!  

He trudged back into the main space of the tree, the warm smell of wood and moss wrapping around him like a blanket. From here, he could keep an eye on Zelda- she hadn't moved, and if anything was writing more furiously and rapidly flipping between pages. 

Link quietly mashed the bananas, mixed in some oats and spices, then set the cakes to cook over the flame. The warm scent of cinnamon and sweet fruit started to fill the tree. When they were golden and crisp on the outside, he drizzled a bit of the syrup over them and set two on a wooden plate.

He padded over to the edge of their little room and crouched beside her. “Zelda.”

No response.

He tilted his head. “Zelda, food.”

Still nothing.

He nudged her shoulder gently with the back of his knuckle. “I made breakfast. Cinnamon oatcakes.”

That got a blink. Then, without looking away from her book: “Mmh. That sounds good.

She took the plate without looking and balanced it on her knee, tearing off a bite with one hand while the other was still writing frantically in her notebook. 

Link stayed there for a moment, watching as she chewed absently, clearly not tasting a single thing. Her eyes didn’t leave the page.

He rested his chin in his hand. “What’re you researching?”

Zelda startled.

She slammed the book shut and sat up straighter, nearly dropping the plate. "I'm... I'm not ready to share that yet." Her face had gone bright red. 

Link blinked. “Okay,” he said, reaching over to steady the edge of the plate before it slipped off her lap.

She continued to eat her oatcakes, much closer this time as if she was actually tasting them. She kept on sneaking glances over at Link.

Once he was done, he gathered up her plate. As soon as he exited the room, she was tearing through her notebook. 

He had to leave to wash the dishes which let the koroks back in, but he told them very sternly that they had to leave Zelda alone. Hoping that they don't physically climb on her was all he could be optimistic for. 

When he came back in, Zelda was still engrossed in her book, not even looking up when Link returned. After a moment, she glanced up at him.

“Link?”

He paused. “Yeah?”

“Would it be alright if I borrowed some rupees?” she asked. “I need to buy something from the shop.

"Yeah- I just keep a bunch in the front pocket of my satchel, you can grab as many as you need anytime."

She blinked, seemingly surprised. "Thank you. Do you need me to keep a record or make plans to pay you back-?"

He shook his head. He had loads of rupees and could make loads more at any moment by selling any of his gem stockpile. 

Zelda nodded slowly, her fingers lightly brushing against the satchel as she reached for the rupees. “Alright. I’ll make sure to grab only what I need,” she said, a little hesitant but still determined.

Link gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s not a problem. Really.”

She nodded in thanks before rushing off to the shop. 

Link watched her hurry off. He knew her well enough to know that something was off, but he couldn't place it. He felt like him being vaguely concerned for Zelda while she threw herself into research was something that they've gone through before. 

Zelda hurried out from the shop, but she rushed right past him to go outside. He decided to give her space- this was probably the only place in Hyrule where he didn't have to worry about her, beyond her accidentally wandering too close to the border of the forest. It felt weird, not having to protect her. 

As the day passed, he noticed Zelda still seemed distant, her mind clearly preoccupied. When the sun began to dip low, Link glanced over at her as she stood by the edge of the Deku Tree, gazing into the distance. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her so… quiet.

He served up dinner. She’d finally put her textbook away, but she still seemed lost in thought.

"So," he started. "How long were you wanting to stay here? We aren't on a time limit, we can stay here as long as you need to recuperate or research."

It seemed to take Zelda a minute to answer. "Leave...? Oh yes, we should probably do that. We're going to have to hurry through the next memories."

"We aren't in a rush," he reassured her. As far as he was concerned, they had nothing but time now.

"Can we leave in the morning? I want to get another good night's rest here, not having to listen to the snores of breathing of other people is so nice."

He agreed. He also liked it here. He kicked out the koroks again and turned away while Zelda got ready for bed again. She curled up next to him as soon as she was done.

"Link? I have a question you might not be able to fully answer, but I'm still going to ask it."

"Go ahead," he replied. Maybe her research had something to do with her memories.

"Do you... do you know how I survived the Calamity? Before you said that we were in a stasis of some sort- what do you mean by that?"

Link took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Well, I was placed in the Shrine of Resurrection. I think it stopped me from aging while it healed me. As for you… I’m not entirely sure. When I saw you, you were like a burst of light. And when we fought the Calamity together, light just kind of gathered, and then you were there.”

Zelda fell silent, processing his words. “I see…”

Link hesitated before speaking again. "For a long time, I thought you might be dead. The Champions were all ghosts. You'd talk to me during the blood moons, and I put off fighting Ganon for longer than I should have because I was scared you'd fade away and I'd never be able to hear you again. I'm sorry for that, Zelda."

"So I didn't have a corporeal form. And then I did. And it was- exactly the same as my previous corporeal form? The Deku tree  did  say that I was unchanged."

"I mean, I can't say for certain, but I think so."

Zelda seemed to chew on that, thinking very carefully about it. "Oh- how rude of me to not address your earlier statement. Apologies, I got caught up in thought. There is nothing to apologize for, I'm glad that you were able to take as much time as you needed to fight Ganon. Like you said, hardest fight of our lives."

He awkwardly shrugs while lying down. He had felt ready to fight Ganon a few weeks before he confronted him, and still had done nothing about it- and even before then, he had dragged his feet, helping out with small tasks or collecting apples. His selfishness would probably haunt him for the rest of his life, and he'd never be able to fully make it up, though he'd do anything he could to try to. 

Zelda shifted under her blanket with a quiet exhale, pulling it up to her chin.

“Goodnight, Link,” she murmured, eyes already closing.

“Night,” he replied.

She put her head against his chest and fell asleep soon. Sleep took longer to take him.

As Zelda finished the last bite of the honey breakfast flatbread, Link set down his plate and glanced over at her. “We should probably head to the next memory,” he said. “I was thinking we could teleport to the shrine closest to it.”

Zelda paused. “Teleport? Is that a good idea?” 

“Getting out is easier than getting in,” Link said. “But I still don’t like the forest. If you aren’t up to it, then of course we can walk out.”

She went quiet for a moment, eyes flicking toward the door, clearly weighing her options.

Eventually, she gave a small nod. “Teleporting is fine,” she said, though a slight waver in her voice betrayed her unease.“Just- give me a moment to brace for it.”

Link suddenly felt bad for suggesting teleportation at all. "We don't have to do it- like I said, the forest is really meant to keep people out more than in. It'll probably be fine if we walk it."

" P robably . I don't want either of us risking getting lost. Besides- I've teleported this much. What is once more?" She seems to be asking that question to herself more than to him. 

Link didn’t press her further. He simply nodded and pulled out the Slate, deftly navigating to the Shrine. 

The moment they reappeared, Zelda unsurprisingly staggered to the side and started throwing up. He was there with her as always, rubbing her back and holding back her short hair. He knew by now to have some water ready to go. 

Zelda miserably coughed a couple of times when she was done. No more Slate travel for them anymore, he decided. They'd figure something else out if they ever needed to visit Korok Forest. 

"There's a stable nearby- do you need to lay down?" he checks. She'll probably say no but he still wants to offer it.

Unsurprisingly, she shakes her head. "Onward to the memory spot."

It was in the direction of the castle, but Zelda angled her head away from it, looking to the side or at the ground. He'd be doing the same if he didn't have to be so attentive. Luckily, the actual photo wasn't taken with the castle in frame. 

Soon enough, they arrived. 

"This one is my favorite memory," he told Zelda. Thinking of the light in her eyes as she explained things was sometimes the only thing that kept him going. 

"Not a high threshold to clear, considering how the memories have played out thus far. Though I do admit, my memories of Mipha and Daruk were very good."

He takes out the Slate eagerly and flips to the picture. This one is proof that things weren't all miserable back then and at a time she liked him. 

Zelda reached out and gently took the Slate from his hands. Her fingers brushed his as she did, but her attention was already on the image. She stared at it for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

Then, all at once, she went still.

He casually took her hand and rubbed it a little while he waited. Her hand was limp in his for several seconds- then suddenly twitched as she drew in a sharp gasp.

Her eyes snapped back into focus, wide at first, then softening as she exhaled. “Yes,” she murmured, voice low. “That was a good memory.”

"Wasn't it? I wonder if I ate the frog."

"Tasted it, I think you mean."

He shrugs. Didn't seem like much of a difference to him.

"But you could have  let me know  that Silent Princesses were endangered before we picked one and- oh! We never actually pressed it. We got so busy that I entirely forgot."

"They aren't endangered anymore. We can pick a new one."

She nods. Then, she seems to sober up slightly. She walks over to the nearby tree and sits down. 

"Link, can you join me?" she calls out. He obliges and heads in her direction, sitting right next to her. She grabs his hand.

"I have something I need to share with you. I was going to tell you earlier but then I got too nervous and it didn't feel like the right time, and then I thought that I should wait until we're alone- like now.  And before I share, it  must  be noted that this is only a guess- I don't know anything concretely. And-"

"Zel, you're rambling."

She took a deep breath as if bracing herself, then met his eyes.

“I think I might be pregnant.”

Chapter Text

Her heart was racing. She didn't need to check her pulse to know that it was going rapidly.

Link hadn't said anything yet. His hand was still clasping hers and his fingers were slightly tremoring. She couldn't pull her eyes away from his face.

His eyes were wide, almost vacant, and his mouth was hung slightly open as if trying to form words but couldn't.

The silence dragged, taut and heavy. Zelda could feel it pressing against her chest- louder than any response he could have given. A breeze stirred the edge of her tunic. Somewhere, a bird called. The world around them moved on, but Link stayed frozen. And so did she.

"What?" Link finally got out. His voice was strained. 

Zelda could hardly blame Link for his disbelief. Despite the test and the symptoms, she still couldn't believe it herself. She took out her former record-keeping notebook and new pregnancy notebook. She could get another record-keeping notebook later.

"I have it all written down here, if you want to examine the evidence, though much of it is anecdotal. It's well within the realm of possibility that these are just natural side effects after Ganon, or related to another condition I might have. But... there's the nausea after I teleport, though no major morning sickness yet. I've been experiencing what I believe are mood swings, and I've certainly been experiencing cravings. And I've experienced consistent dizziness and soreness." 

She handed the notebook to Link. It was documented better there.

"It's not one hundred percent accurate, but I also took a test at Korok Forest. It came out positive." She had peed on some barley and wheat and seen if it had sprouted, which it had. 

"Pregnant. But Zelda- how?"

Something she'd like to know herself. Never before has she cursed her amnesia so much. She flipped to a new page in her notebook to show him, even though he wasn't really looking at it. "I don't know. I haven't been sexually active since I came to, obviously, and the symptoms don't align with such a short timeframe anyways. I currently believe that it'ssomething that occurred pre-calamity and then persisted."

"Pregnant..." Zelda was watching Link's face anxiously. Would he be pleased to be a father? Displeased? She hardly knew what to think herself- it was like there was a mental block preventing her from thinking of anything beyond right now. 

She waited. He didn’t speak. Just stared at the notebook like it was written in an ancient Sheikah dialect.

Zelda looked down at their joined hands. His grip hadn’t loosened, but his knuckles were pale.

“I know this is a lot,” she said quietly. “And I don’t expect you to know how to react. I don’t even know how to react.”

Link blinked hard. His gaze finally tore away from the pages to meet hers.

“You’re sure?” he asked, and she could hear how tightly he was holding his voice together.

“No,” she admitted. “Not entirely. But… I’m reasonably certain. The signs are all there. The test I took was positive, and I took several."

She thought he might ask something else, maybe something practical- how far along, what now, what does this mean- but he didn’t. He just sat there, staring at her, barely breathing.

Zelda swallowed. “If you want space-”

"If I need space- Zel, I should be asking about you! How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you? Should we- oh Hylia, should we be traveling? I can get a smooth cart and get you to Hateno without too much jostling."

She shakes her head. "I'm fine to travel. If I'm correct, I'm barely in the first trimester. Likely around weeks 4-5, though it's hard to track."

Link’s whole body was tense now- not with fear, but with urgency. His hand finally released hers, only to settle on her shoulder, thumb brushing gently along the fabric of her tunic like he needed to confirm she was physically okay.

“We need to make sure you’re eating enough,” he said, half to himself. “And sleeping. And not exerting yourself too hard physically. Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous? I can quickly teleport to an apothecary to get you things to help with that."

"Link." She placed her hand on his chest. "I'm alright. Truly."

“But you said you’ve been faint. And nauseous. And- what if it gets worse? You shouldn’t be teleporting anymore, right? That can’t be good for the baby. Or- or whatever is happening."

She nods her head. "I concur with that. No more teleporting for me- I believe it just triggers my nausea, but better to be safe than sorry."

Link still looked like he was processing, his hand hovering as if unsure whether to hold her again or let her breathe. His fingers twitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, his gaze focused but distant.

“Okay… okay. No more teleporting. And we’ll be careful with everything. Just-” He sighed, rubbing his forehead, looking around as if searching for some kind of guidebook on how to handle this. “I don’t know what else to do, but I'll figure it out. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. Just- tell me if you need anything.”

“Link,” she said softly, trying to steady his overwhelming concern with a simple gesture. She placed her hand on his chest again, just over his heart. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

He nodded, but still seemed unsure, like the weight of everything was crashing down all at once.

Then, he looked at her, his eyes searching hers, a new question forming. “Zelda… do you know who the father is?"

She blinked at him. “I assumed it was you. Who else would it be?”

Link stared at her, stunned. “Me?” His voice cracked. “Why would you think that?”

Zelda tilted her head, confused. “Well seeing as we're married and all, I just.... I assumed-" 

"What?"  Link asked. The color had drained out of his face. "We're... Zelda, what are you talking about?"

Zelda felt herself go pale as well. "What are you talking about?"

"How could we be- Zelda, I think I'd remember if we were married."

The world tilted slightly.

"No- no. You were the one that said you were my husband."

He shook his head slowly. “I never said that."

“No, I-” She faltered. “When I first woke up… when I asked who you were, you said-”

“I never said I was your husband,” he repeated, more slowly this time.

Zelda’s mind reeled. She tried to conjure the memory- muddy now, but still there. Link standing over her when she first woke. Her asking who he was. And he had said…

He hadn't said anything at all.

Hylia. 

"But... but... you've been so kind to me, and you keep holding my hand and you hold me when I sleep and..."

And he was just being nice.

"We're not married," she said. 

Of course they weren’t.

He had never said they were. She’d just… assumed. That woman at the stable. A stray comment. A feeling. And she’d made it true in her mind because it felt true.

“In that case,” she whispered, “I don’t know who the father is. Was.”

Her voice trembled.

"Zelda-" Link starts. And then she realizes that she's still holding his hand. She takes it back and buries her face in her hands.

She's been so stupid. 

She feels the world spinning. But that's alright, dizziness is an expected pregnancy symptom. Because she's pregnant. And she doesn't even know who the father could be, can't even guess, because she has amnesia and she's not married to Link. 

She didn’t lift her head from her hands.

This was a mistake. All of it. Every assumption, every piece she thought she’d put back in place- wrong. 

She had been walking through this life like it was hers. Believing she understood where she stood, who she stood beside. But none of it was real. She’d made it all up in the empty spaces of her memory and filled the rest with hope.

She had clung to the idea of a husband not because it made sense- but because it made things easier. The gentle touches, the soft words, the way Link looked at her like she mattered- of course it had to mean something. Of course she had to belong to him.

But she didn’t.

And now she was pregnant.

“I’m so stupid,” she muttered into her palms, voice cracking. “I’m so, so stupid.”

“Zelda-”

“Don’t.” Sharper than she meant. It cut the air between them. She winced, but didn’t take it back.

This wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t lied. He hadn’t promised her anything.

She was the one who filled in the blanks. Who saw something in every touch, every word, every quiet look. Who built a story around it. One where she was his, and he was hers, and that was why everything felt bearable.

But none of that was real.

She turned away, swallowing hard. Her breath came too fast, too shallow. The corners of her vision fuzzed, and a sudden, pulsing ache bloomed at her temples.

Headache. Just a pregnancy symptom. One of many. 

"I don't know whose life this is," she says with a hollow voice. "I don't know anything about this body that I inhabit. How did this happen? I do not know. I don't know anything. I thought I was developing a new life and piecing things together... but I'm not. I'm just a hollow cracked vessel."  

She dragged her hands down her face, fingers trembling, skin clammy. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t even know what I’ve lost. I only feel the weight of it.”

The silence that followed felt unbearable. Too sharp. Too full.

Then she heard him shift beside her, carefully- deliberately. Not to close the space, but not to leave it either. Just enough to show he was still there.

“You’re not hollow,” he said softly.

She let out a weak, humorless laugh. “You don’t know that.”

“I know what hollow looks like,” he said. “I’ve been there. You’re not it.”

She didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Her throat was closing again, tight with panic and shame and something worse- grief for a life she never actually lived.

“I wake up every day not knowing what I’ve forgotten,” she said. “And now I will wake up knowing there’s someone else- inside me- who will never even have the chance to know what they lost. Who their father is. Who I was before all this. What kind of person I even am.”

Her fingers curled against her knees.

“I should be able to handle this,” she added. “Figure it out. But I can’t.”

Link didn’t speak right away. She didn’t want him to. She was afraid if he did- if he offered comfort- she would fall apart completely.

But his presence stayed steady beside her. Solid. Quiet.

Then, gently, “You’re not failing.”

She shook her head, not in disagreement- just disbelief.

“You’re doing what anyone would do,” he continued, “when they’re given broken pieces and told to make something whole.”

Zelda pressed her lips together, but her voice still shook when she whispered, “What if I’m not meant to be whole?”

There was a long pause. Then:

“Then let me help carry the pieces.”

That undid her more than anything.

She bit down on the sob that rose in her throat.

It was too kind.

Too much.

Because of course he would say something like that- gentle and selfless and steady in the face of her unraveling. And he meant it. He always meant it. That was the worst part.

But she didn’t want kindness. Not now. Not when it wasn’t hers.

She turned her face away, blinking hard. The tears came anyway.

“I can’t ask that of you,” she whispered. 

Link didn’t speak. He didn’t argue. Just sat there beside her, silent and warm.

And it made her ache.

Because she loved him. And he didn’t owe her anything.

And she wasn’t his.

She wrapped her arms around herself like it might hold something together.

But it didn’t.

It didn’t stop the hollow feeling. It didn’t change the truth.

She was alone in this.

And even his kindness couldn’t touch that.

Chapter Text

They didn't talk much on the way to the stable.

Link walked like he was underwater. Every step felt a little off. Like the ground wasn’t where it used to be.

He kept thinking he should offer to carry her pack. That was polite, right? Something he’d do. Something a husband would do. Except he wasn’t- wasn’t a husband. And she- she thought-

The words got stuck before they even made it to his throat. She didn’t look at him.

The stablehand glanced up as they came in. “One bed or two?”

Link opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He didn't even know what he was going to say. 

“Two, please,” Zelda said.

Two. Right. Because she only wanted to share a bed when she thought- 

The word slammed into his head again.

Married.

She thought they were married.

His stomach dropped out like he was falling off a cliff. Again. Again. Over and over.

He cooked because his body needed something to do. Not his mind- his hands. Hands still worked. He guessed.

Bread. Knife. Fire. Pot.

He doesn’t know what food is good for pregnancy. He doesn’t know anything. Everything he wants to know begins and ends with her. 

His throat tightened.

She’d been alone. For so long.

Alone in the castle, holding the Calamity at bay- for him. And he’d thought that was unbearable enough, the idea of her standing there day after day with no end in sight. But now- 

She was pregnant.

She had been pregnant. While trapped. While fighting. While waiting.

She must have been so scared.

He sets her dinner on the edge of her bed and then retreats while she’s still getting changed.

What kind of knight leaves his princess to carry all of that alone?

What kind of man lets her bear that burden without him?

She eats it without comment. He wasn't watching. He wasn't.

Later, he lay on his side, staring at the wall. Arms curled in. Back cold.

The bed was too big. Too loud. Too far from her.

He used to fall asleep with her hair against his throat. Now he doesn’t know where she is in the dark.

Does he even know how to fall asleep without her in his arms? He's already forgotten. His chest feels cold and he doesn'tknow what to do with his hands. 

He doesn’t fall asleep.

The blankets are too thin without her. The air too loud. He watches the wooden beams above him blur and shift in the dark. Every creak of the stable, every shift of wind, keeps him just awake enough to feel how empty the space beside him is.

Then-

Zelda screams.

He’s on his feet before he’s even conscious of moving, heart in his throat, the blanket half-dragging from his legs as he stumbles to her bed.

“Zelda,” he says, already kneeling beside her, reaching out without thinking. “It’s okay. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. I've got you.”

She’s trembling, fists twisted in her blanket. Her breath comes in shallow bursts.

“Link?” Her voice is raw and small.

“I’m here,” he says, gently pulling her into his arms. “I’m here.”

She folded into him for one moment- just one- and it was the first real thing he’d felt in hours. Her forehead pressed to his shoulder. Her breath shook. His hand found the back of her head. He whispered nothing words against her hair. He didn't even know what he was saying. 

Then she pulled back.

“You should go back to your bed,” she said quietly.

He didn’t let go right away.

Please. Just a few more seconds.

But she looked up at him, and- 

“Please.”

And what can he say to that?

He stands. Walks back across the room. Each step heavier than the last.

He lies down again, but this time there’s no wall to face. Just the shape of her, ten feet away and worlds apart.

He closes his eyes and wishes he could forget what it felt like to hold her for those few seconds. It would hurt less than remembering.

He wakes before the sun, though he’s not sure he slept at all.

The stable is quiet. He starts the fire again and takes his time-slices a few apples thin and stews them with dried berries and honey until they’re soft. Toasts the last of the flatbread by the edge of the flame, just enough to crisp. It’s not much, but it smells warm and sweet.

She's already up and sitting at the table in the stable, reading one of her notebooks. Was she crying? Does he have any right to comfort her anymore? He just sets the food down.

She sits up when he sets the food on the table. Her hair’s mussed, her face pale.

“Thank you,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.

He nods. She eats in silence.

When she finishes, she folds her blanket and buckles her pack without looking at him. He still wants to offer to carry it. He doesn’t.

He follows her out to the horses, staying a few steps behind. This he remembers. Morning light spills over the stables, and a stable hand is already getting their horses ready.

Zelda moves toward her mare like always- calm, focused- but there’s a slight drag to her steps. He notices. He notices everything.

“You sure you want to ride today?” he asks.

She doesn’t look at him. “We need to keep moving.”

“I know. I just-” He swallows. “It might not be good for… for the baby. Bouncing around in the saddle, I mean."

"I'm only in my first trimester, the baby isn't developed enough to risk harm from riding. The greatest risk is in me falling off the horse, but I feel confident that I can avoid that."

The stable hand conveniently quickly finishes up what he's doing and then leaves. It's just the two of them now. 

He stays quiet for a moment. The mare shifts beside him, tail flicking.

“I trust you,” he says finally. “I just worry.”

She exhales through her nose. “I know.”

It’s the closest she’s come to softening all morning.

Still, when she reaches for the stirrup, he steps in without thinking. Holds the saddle steady. She hesitates just slightly, then mounts without a word.

He mounts his own horse after her, then hangs back just a little, letting her lead.

They ride in silence.

The road is even, the weather clear, but he keeps their pace slower than usual. It’s deliberate. He doesn’t say it out loud, but he reins in whenever she starts to pull ahead. Every time, she adjusts- wordlessly, politely, with a calm nod- but the set of her jaw tightens each time she has to.

He hates it. Not the pace. Not even her irritation. Just that everything about her feels so distant now- every word measured, every look brief. She’s still kind. Still careful. Still her.

But not with him.

She thanks him when he offers her water at midday. Thanks him when he points out a smoother path through the brush. Always “thank you,” never “Link.”

By the time the next stable comes into view, the sun is dipping behind the hills and his heart feels scraped raw. His hands are stiff from holding the reins too tightly. His throat’s dry.

She swings down from her horse and pats her mare’s neck like she always does. Doesn’t look back.

He follows her in.

The stablehand glances up from his ledger.

“One bed or two?”

Link doesn’t even open his mouth this time.

“Two,” Zelda says.

Chapter Text

The morning air was crisp as they started to ride, but Zelda barely noticed. Her hands were clenched too tightly around the reins, knuckles pale.

All she wanted to do was scream. Or cry. Or curl into Link's chest and sleep until they were married again and everything all made sense. 

Instead, she just sat straighter in her saddle.

She was just trying not to look at him, because if she looked at him then she'd start crying, and then he'd try to comfort her with his too-kind eyes, and then that would make her cry more.  

The worst part was that he was still so kind. He still made her food, he still helped her into her saddle, still comforted her after her nightmares. She felt horrible that she took advantage of his kindness for so long and was still taking advantage of it, taking advantage of him , but she couldn't stop herself.  

And all she could do was nod and thank him like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t been wrong about everything.

She gripped the reins impossibly tighter.

Link kept on slowing down their pace. Something infuriatingly sweet and also just infuriating- she could ride , she needed to get through all of these memories while she still could.  

She didn’t tell him to stop slowing down. She didn’t trust herself to speak without her voice cracking.

Besides, what could she say?  Please stop being considerate, it’s making me feel worse?

The worst part was that it wasn’t even his fault. None of it was. He hadn’t lied to her. He hadn’t misled her. He had just… let her believe something she never bothered to question.

She blinked hard. The road ahead blurred for a second before it cleared. 

This was ridiculous. She wasn't angry at him , she was angry at herself and then unfairly pinning that anger on him. That didn't stop her from grimacing when she knew that he couldn't see her, because her horse was in front.

"Zelda?" Link called out. She truly must be pregnant and hormonal and going through a retched time, just hearing him say her name made her want to cry. She schooled her face then turned around to face him.

"Last time I was here there were some Guardian Scouts around. I'm going to ride ahead and check to see if there are any still around or any monsters." Then, Link hesitated. "If I leave you with the Slate, do you think you're okay to teleport if you need to?"

"It should be alright to use in case of emergencies," she replied in as non-shaky of a voice as she could manage.

Link nodded, then carefully handed the Slate to her. Their fingers brushed- just barely- and it was nothing. It was always nothing. But her throat still tightened.

She tucked it away and gave a tight nod. “Be careful.”

He gave her that small smile he always did when he was trying not to worry her. Then he turned and kicked into a faster pace, disappearing down the trail.

She let herself sag. She was tired. Not physically, though she hadn't gotten any sleep in two nights and her back was starting to ache- but tired in the kind of way that sleep couldn’t fix.

It was the tired that settled behind her eyes and in her ribs, like her body couldn’t quite hold itself up anymore. Like even breathing took effort.

She stared down the path he’d gone, chest tight. He wouldn’t be far, and he knew how to take care of himself. She wasn’t in danger. She wouldn’t be alone for long.

But she still felt it- alone, in a way that had nothing to do with being left behind. 

And then she felt guilty for feeling that way, because it wasn’t fair to him.

She ran a hand down her face. Maybe she was just being dramatic. Hormonal. Emotional. Whatever the right word was for wanting to scream and cry and apologize and run all at once.

Link returned and she wanted to cry again because he was safe and then she wanted to cry even more because he shot her a concerned caring look, probably because she was slumped over on her horse and close to crying .  

"Is it clear for us?" she asks, before he can check on her. He nods his head.

"Onward then." She flicks her reins and then he follows. 

They rode in silence for a while, the hill rising steadily in the distance. When they reached the base of it, Link slowed to a stop.

“We should walk from here,” he said, already swinging off his horse. “The slope’s steep, and the ground looks loose.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Would he be saying the same thing if she wasn't pregnant? She did agree it was a good idea - but did not agree with how protective he was being. Reasonably protective, but she could still internally be annoyed about it. 

She dismounted stiffly, her knees complaining the second her boots hit the earth. She didn’t miss the way Link glanced over, ready to help if she needed it, but she ignored him and started walking. She was pregnant, not fragile.

The hill wasn’t high, but it felt taller than it should’ve. Every step made her legs ache, her stomach twist, her head throb. She kept walking anyway.

Link was only a step behind, quiet. Respectfully so. Too respectfully.

The hike was winding. Was it because she was pregnant or because she was out of shape or because it was an appropriate reaction and Link was the abnormal one for not struggling? The second or third option she decided, she wasn't far enough along for the pregnancy to affect her breathing yet, though she'd have to check that in her textbook. 

"Zelda?" Link called out to her, and if he was going to offer help then she was going to begin bawling and maybe shove him. "We're almost to the spot. This memory... it's not unpleasant like the last couple of ones. But you're... well you're kind of mean in it? Just wanted to give you a heads up, and also wanted to let you know that I'm not like, upset or anything, and I don't blame you."

She blinked at that. Of all the things she’d expected him to say,  that  hadn’t even made the list.

“Oh,” she said faintly, caught off guard. She glanced back at him. “Well. That’s reassuring.”

He gave a small, sheepish smile. “Just didn’t want it to catch you off guard.”

Too late for that, she thought, but she nodded anyway and kept walking.

Mean. She was  mean  in it. Mean like she had been in her memory where she was blessing Link, or mean in a different way? He hadn't warned her before the blessing memory, so mean in a different way. 

Soon, they arrived. She still had the Slate, which she fished out of her pack.

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" Link asks.

Yes. Desperately. She shakes her head. 

No more taking advantage of him.

She scrolls to the right picture, takes a breath. 

The memory takes her. 

She puts the Slate onto the pedestal. This should activate it.

No response.

"Nothing. Just as I thought..." she murmured.

Still, she could figure this out. If she could single-handedly figure out how to activate the Divine Beasts, this was well within her skill set. It was just a matter have having enough time alone to be able to study it.

Then, the distant sound of hooves.

Her jaw tensed.

Of course. Of course it was him. Disregarding her orders- again. Always loyal to the King like the perfect knight that he was. 

She lashes out at him. She yells. She seethes.

He still follows her.  

The memory ended. 

Zelda stood frozen, the wind tugging at her sleeves. Her heart was thudding, her stomach curling with something sour.

"I treated you so horribly?" She felt ill. From the nausea or from this revelation about her character she didn't know. 

"To be fair, I was being really annoying."

She turned to him, horrified. “You were doing nothing wrong! I assume you were just… following orders?”

He gave a tiny, rueful shrug. "Not your orders."

She stared at him. “I was awful."

“You were under a lot of pressure.”

“That doesn’t excuse it!” she protested.

“No,” he admitted. “But I understood.”

She looked away, throat tight. The silence stretched for a moment too long.

“…I’m sorry,” she said finally, barely louder than a breath.

"I forgave you before I even knew you."

“No,” she said again, sharper this time. “That's unacceptable- don’t let me off the hook like that. I was cruel, and I took my own failure out on you. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I’ll accept your apology,” he said, “but only if you accept mine- for being underfoot and not knowing when to back off.”

She stared at him. He was still trying to meet her halfway. Still soft. Still kind. It made her stomach twist harder.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said.

“Neither did you,” he replied.

Her chest ached. She didn’t know if it was from the baby, or the memory, or just the realization that she didn’t deserve the man standing in front of her, never did and never could.

“…Fine,” she muttered. “Alright.”

They stood in silence, the wind brushing past them, the trees rustling overhead. She wanted to sink into the ground. Just disappear. If she were him, she wouldn’t have forgiven her. She wouldn’t even look at her. Honestly, it's a miracle he chose to save her from Ganon at all. 

Then, Link offered her his hand again- quietly, without expectation.

Zelda stared at it like it was a trap.

She couldn’t take it. Not now. Not after what she’d just seen. Not when she was freshly reminded of what she’d put him through. Even if he  wanted  to be kind, she didn’t want to be someone who  let  him be kind to her. Not when she’d hurt him.

But she couldn’t reject it, either. Not without hurting him again.

So she compromised- she took his hand, but like it was something breakable. No squeeze. No warmth. No looking at him longer than necessary. Just… holding.

They walked together in silence, fingers barely linked. His hand was warm. Steady.

She hated that it made her feel better. Hated how easily her steps fell into sync with his. Hated that she didn’t want to let go.

She didn’t deserve comfort. She didn’t deserve  him.

When they reached the bottom of the hill, she let go quickly.

“I’m alright now,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she’d be alright again for a long time.

Link nodded, like he believed her. Or maybe he knew better, and was just letting her pretend.

She turned away before he could say anything else. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

The wind picked up again.

They kept walking.

Chapter Text

Zelda slipped her hand out of his as soon as they reached their horses. His hand felt empty.

"Where to next?" Zelda asked. It's the first thing she's said to him since right after she'd gotten her last memory.

Link didn’t think before answering. “I’ve really been wanting to go to Rito Village.”

He wants to slap himself for saying that. Sugar, he wants to go to Rito Village for sugar, because he wants sugar to make Zelda her favorite cake and to open up his recipe options. Not because they need to go there. They shouldn't go there, shouldn't go anywhere unnecessary. 

He cleared his throat. “I mean. That’s not really- never mind. It’s not important.”

Zelda turned her head toward him. “Rito Village… was the Rito Champion from there?”

He hesitated. “Yeah. Revali.”

She straightened a little. “If we went, maybe I could remember him. My triggers to remember the Champions are more random, but they've tended to be associated with the areas that they lived in."

Now he feels dumb. He forgot about that. His memories of the Champions came like that too; he doesn't know how he forgot. 

"Yeah. That makes sense."

Zelda didn’t say anything else. Just turned to check the packs on her horse. He helped her onto her horse, and she acknowledged that with a polite nod. 

They started riding. In silence. The soft rhythms of the horse's hooves filled the air, but nothing else did. 

Was it possible to miss someone who's right next to you? 

This was nothing like how he missed Zelda while she was still trapped in the castle. Back then, he himself had been a ghost, barely living in the cracks that remained. He'd had a hole in him. Hardly talked, didn't know himself. 

He had chalked that up to missing his memories. But as he gained more and more, he realized it wasn't just himself he was missing; he was also missing her. After he'd gotten Zelda back, his hole had filled in, he hadn't felt incomplete.

Now, the hole was back. 

It wasn't as bad. He'd take Zelda here, and beside his side still at that, a million times over, would trade his life for hers without hesitation. And if this- this quiet distance- was the only way he could be part of her life, he'd take it with a smile and be honored that he was allowed in at all. 

But he realized that he had also taken so many things for granted. Her warmth, listening to her continual dialogue, how often she would flash that beautiful smile at him and it'd feel like a spring day no matter what.

Now she was distant. Not cold or angry, just… quieter. Reserved. She only spoke when she had to, and even then, only in polite, careful phrases. She didn’t ask him for cooking lessons anymore. Didn’t point out strange mushrooms or marvel at old ruins with that wide-eyed wonder he loved so much.

He missed her. Could you miss someone who was right there beside you? It was more than missing her, it was like an aching yearning for her.

Holy Hylia ...

He was in love with her. Plain and simple as that.

He was in love with Zelda. Actually, he thinks that he's always been in love with her. Is this why he was yearning so badly for her when he first woke up? A love so tightly woven into his being that he didn't even realize it was there, it was that much of a part of him. 

Was that why her absence had hurt so much? Why the ache had started before he even remembered her name? It wasn’tjust duty. It wasn’t just the bond. It was love.

And now- now it made sense, that tight pull in his chest every time she looked away. The way his world steadied when she smiled. The way he could survive anything, so long as she was warm and near.

He imagined, just for a moment, what it would be like if she’d been right. If they  were  married.

She’d stand in their kitchen, scribbling in a notebook while he baked. She’d pass him ingredients without needing to ask what he needed. He’d hold her waist as she leaned into him, kiss her neck just to make her laugh. He’d memorize her softness, the rhythm of her, the way her shoulders shook when she tried not to smile.

And when she got tired, he’d carry her to bed. He’d tuck the blanket around her and press kisses to her temple, her cheek, her hands, her belly.

The baby would fall asleep curled between them. Maybe they’d have her eyes. Maybe her laugh. He’d get to watch her teach them how to read, how to ride, how to wonder at the world. He’d be there too- cooking their meals, carrying them where they wanted to go, kneeling in the dirt beside them to show how to plant a seed or tie a knot. He’d learn what lullabies made them sleep, what jokes made them laugh. He’d hold them both like they were everything- because they would be.

It was warm, that image. Almost real. Too real.

He swallowed and blinked hard. No. Not real. Just something soft to cling to. Something that couldn’t- shouldn’t- take root.

Not after everything.

Still, he’d give anything to be hers.

Even if all she could give him now was silence.

He doesn't know if he'll ever be okay again. He'd take what they once had, he'd take a sliver of what they once had, a thousand times over and experience any sort of pain for that- but he'll never be okay now knowing what he's missing. 

They were approaching Rito Village now. Damn it, he had gotten lost in thought. Never again. He'll just have to stop looking at Zelda, because every time he does his heart's going to break and melt at the same time and that'll distract him from protecting her.

Fortunately, there was a stable right before the bridge to Rito Village, so they both dismounted. 

The wind was sharp. It tugged at Zelda's hair and cloak as they reached the start of the rope bridge. She didn't say anything, just tightened her grip so she wouldn't wobble.

Link waited for her to cross then followed. The bridge was less shaky that way. But halfway through the next bridge, she stopped.

Dead still.

Link's breath caught. "Zelda?" he called out. 

She didn’t answer. Just stood there, staring at nothing, her whole body slack.

Shit . She was probably remembering something. He carefully- so carefully- crawled to where she was on the bridge, because crawling rocked it less, then stood up and put his arms around her in case she jolted when she came out of the memory. 

Zelda gasped and jerked hard as she came out of the memory. The rope bridge swung a little, but he held on tight. 

"Hey, hey, I've got you."

She blinked, disoriented, still gasping for breath, but after a few moments, she nodded. They carefully made their way to the other side in silence.

"Did you remember Revali?"

"Yes. He was training."

She was taking out her notebook and rapidly writing things down. 

Link waited, quiet beside her. The wind tugged at his hood, and the bridge behind them creaked softly. Zelda scribbled a few more lines, then finally closed the notebook with a soft snap and tucked it away.

Without a word, they started walking.

As they approached the village, Link heard it- a low, rolling note carried by the wind. Then another. The smooth rise and fall of an accordion.

Kass must be here. For a visit or home for good, he couldn't say. 

Link didn’t realize how much he’d missed that sound until he heard it again. The music drifted between the cliffs and huts of Rito Village like it belonged there, like it had always been there.

Zelda seemed to notice too. Her head tilted slightly, her brows drawn as if the tune tugged at something just out of reach.

As they stepped onto the wooden walkways leading deeper into the village, the music grew clearer- lively, familiar, full of memory.

And then there he was.

Perched on a high landing, wings tucked and eyes closed as he played, Kass swayed gently with each breath of the bellows. His instrument shimmered in the sunlight.

Link slowed. “Kass.”

The bard's eyes opened. A wide smile spread across his face. "Ah! Link! What a pleasant surprise." He turned his gaze to Zelda. "I can guess who this is."

Zelda gave a small, polite nod. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“The honor is mine, Princess,” Kass said, bowing his head with real reverence. “I’ve heard many tales- though none quite compare to seeing the legend with my own eyes.”

She looked a little unsure of what to say, but smiled faintly.

Link glanced up at the accordion. “What were you playing just now?”

Kass’s feathers lifted slightly with delight. “Ah- how fortuitous you arrived when you did. That tune is part of a song… one that speaks of you both.”

Zelda blinked. “Of us?"

Kass nodded. “Yes. My mentor, the court poet who once served your family, passed many stories down to me. Songs, fragments of verses, bits of forgotten history. I’ve spent years collecting and finishing what he started.”

He glanced between them. “Would you like to hear it in full?”

Link gave a small nod. “Yeah. Please.

"An ancient hero, a Calamity appears,

Now resurrected after 10,000 years.

Her appointed knight gives his life,

Shields her figure, and pays the price.

The princess’s love for her fallen knight awakens her power

And within the castle the Calamity is forced to cower.

But the knight survives! In the Shrine of Resurrection he sleeps,

Until from his healing dream he leaps!

For fierce and deadly trials await.

To regain his strength. To fulfill his fate.

To become a hero once again!

To wrest the princess from evil’s den.

The hero, the princess- hand in hand- 

Must bring the light back to this land."

Link’s breath caught. His eyes widened- just slightly- at the line  “ The princess’s … knight …”

He didn’t look at Zelda. Didn’t move. 

Just stood there, heart thudding, the music still ringing in his ears.

Chapter Text

"The Princess's love for her fallen knight..."

She doesn't hear anything beyond that. 

The rest of Kass’s song blurs into soft sound, like water over stone. She stands motionless beside Link, heart thudding behind her ribs, trying not to let her face show anything at all.

The Princess's love...

She used to love Link, probably like how she loved him now. And he didn't love her back, now or then. 

Her hypothesis currently is that she had sex with a stranger at some point. She can't imagine having loved anyone else or being in a relationship with someone else- more than intuitively feeling it, if she had been intimately involved with someone, she surely would have learned about it at some point, unless she was very good at keeping this hypothetical other relationship secret. She can imagine the circumstance- being angry that Link didn't love her back and feeling lonely. She selfishly hopes that she didn't care for this person at all. 

She vaguely politely claps for Kass when the song's done, then she turns around. She just... she needs a moment alone. She can be granted that. Thank Hylia that Link doesn't try to follow.

She doesn’t know how far she walks, only that her legs carry her away from the village and onto a narrow ledge where the world opens up. The cliffs stretch far into the distance, wild and craggy, the wind brisk and thin.

She sits. Pulls her relationship notebook out. Stares at the cover without opening it.

And then- finally- she lets herself cry.

Not quietly, not delicately. Her shoulders shake with it. Her chest aches with it. The wind tugs at her hair and cloak, but she doesn’t care. She’s alone, and for once, that feels like a mercy.

She cries for everything. For the memories she doesn’t have. For the people she failed. For the hopes she’s too afraid to name and the truth she’s too afraid to hear.

She cries because she loved him. She loved Link. And she still does.

She presses her sleeve to her face and breathes through it, trying to steady herself, but it doesn’t work. She sobs harder, knees pulled up, forehead resting on them. The tears sting her eyes and freeze against her cheeks.

There’s no clarity waiting at the end of it. Just exhaustion. Just cold.

And still- still- when her tears finally begin to slow, all she wants is for Link to find her. She wants him to sit beside her and not ask her what’s wrong. She wants him to wrap his arm around her and let her lean into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

She reaches for her notebook again and opens it this time. 

She begins to write. Words pour out of her as if she could transfer the hurt that she feels into the pages. The graphite of the pencil smudges she's going so fast, but she doesn't slow down. This isn't to read, this is to feel. She'll likely toss this notebook off a cliff once she's done, or tear out these pages. 

Her breath hitches as she writes, and her fingers grip the pencil tighter. The words flow faster now, almost too fast for her mind to catch up, a blur of raw thoughts. She writes until her hand cramps, until entire pages are full of half-formed thoughts and quiet confessions. It’s a release, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Not by a long shot.

She doesn’t hear him at first. Just the wind brushing the leaves. Just the scratch of graphite on paper. Just her own uneven breaths.

Then-

A footstep. The soft crunch of dried grass. The faint scuff of boots on packed earth.

Her entire body goes rigid.

She doesn’t look up. Doesn’t turn around. She keeps her gaze fixed on the words in front of her, blurred now from tears she thought had run out. The pencil is still in her hand, but she doesn’t move it. She just stares at the page like it might shield her.

He doesn't speak, but it's him. She knows the rhythm of his steps like her own heartbeat by now. Careful. Measured. Unmistakably his.

He stops a few feet away. The stillness stretches between them, heavy with all the things they haven’t said.

She closes the notebook slowly, hands trembling. Shame burns hot beneath her skin. Not because he found her crying- but because she wanted him to.

“You’re crying.”

His voice is quiet, not a question, not an accusation. Just a fact. One he’s afraid to name too loudly.

“I’m pregnant.” Her voice is hoarse. “Pregnant people tend to cry a lot, or so I’ve read.”

He kneels in front of her slowly. A hand comes up to brush a tear away- fingertips warm to touch, and unbearably gentle. She leans into it before she can stop herself, eyes fluttering shut. For a breathless second, her hand lifts to cover his, holding him there.

She remembers herself and pulls his hand away. 

"Don't," she whispers.

"Don't what?" Link replies. His eyes are big and he sounds so sincere.

“Don’t be so kind. Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want to be something you have to take care of. Not because we used to know each other. Not because you feel like you owe me anything.”

Her voice wavers.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at her like he’s trying to memorize every line of her face.

"I don't."

She breathes in sharply. Her voice is barely more than a breath. “Then how do you feel?”

He doesn’t move at first. Just breathes. Then, softly-

“I feel…” His voice catches. “Breathless. Every time you look at me.”

Her eyes flicker up to his, startled.

“I feel like- like you undo me without even trying. Like I’ve been standing at the edge of something for so long, and I didn’t even know it until you spoke my name.”

His voice is shaking now, but he pushes on.

“I’ve been chasing something. I didn’t have a name for it. Not even when I first opened my eyes. But from the moment I first heard you calling me… I’ve been looking. And every time I found a piece of you, I got closer."

Her breath won’t come. She can’t move.

“Even when I got you back, when I thought I had it- it slipped away. I didn’t know what I was searching for until right now.”

He leans in, just enough that she can feel the warmth of him again.

“It was love." His words are tumbling out of him now. "Goddesses, it was- I think- no, I know it was. I loved you. Not because I had to. Not because you were the Princess. But because you were you. And I don’t think I ever stopped.”

He swallows hard, his hand half-raised like he wants to touch her again, but is waiting- waiting for her to let him.

“I love you, Zelda. Not out of obligation. Not out of memory. Just… love.”

She stares at him, silent.

Then she shakes her head.

“No,” she says, the word breaking in the middle. “You don’t- you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

"No. You can't."

“Why not?” he breathes. “I do. I do. I'll say it a thousand times over if I have to and never take it back. I love you.”

She stares at him like he’s speaking a language she doesn’t understand. Like the words are too beautiful to be meant for her.

“I love you,” he says again, softer now, like maybe if he says it gently enough, she won’t run from it.

Her lips part, but no sound comes out.

A beat passes. Then another.

Her voice, when it finally comes, is barely more than a whisper.

"....Truly?"

Her mind cannot accept what he's saying. Not after she convinced herself so thoroughly that her love was one-sided. 

He doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t blink.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No softening of it.

“Yes, Zelda. I do.”

Something trembles in her- faint, like a crack spidering across glass. Her throat bobs as she swallows. Her eyes shine again, but this time it’s not grief.

She blinks rapidly. Her voice breaks.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

He lifts a hand- slowly, gently- and cups her face. His thumb brushes a tear from her cheek.

“I love you.”

Her shoulders shake.

“Again.”

Both hands now cradle her face, steadying her. 

“I love you.”

She leans into him- barely, instinctively- as if her body is remembering something her mind is only just beginning to believe.

His thumb brushes beneath her eye, then slowly, gently, over the curve of her lip.

He hesitates.

“I know you said you weren’t ready to kiss yet,” he says quietly.

Her breath catches.

“I’m ready now,” she says.

He doesn't rush in. He leans in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away- but she doesn't. She tilts her chin up to meet him.

Their lips meet. 

It’s not rushed. It’s not wild. It’s soft- achingly so. Like a breath drawn in after being held for too long. Like finding something you didn’t know you were missing until it was pressed right against you. His lips are soft and easily pliable. 

They pull apart, and he rests his forehead against hers, and she can see every detail of his face, and she could just stay here forever watching his eyelashes flutter against his cheek or counting every small freckle or scar. 

But then she sees his eyes. They are darker than before. Her breath catches. 

And then they’re diving in again.

This time, it’s different. The soft brush of his lips turns urgent, searching. His mouth moves against hers with a hunger that’s been building, like it’s been waiting for this. For her.

His hands find her shoulders- gentle but insistent. They draw her closer.

She lets herself melt into him, her body responding without hesitation. Her fingers curl into his hair, tangling with the strands as she pulls him closer, urging him to deepen the kiss.

Now his hands are moving away from her shoulders and up to her face again, where they can cradle her face as if she's something precious, something valuable, something worthwhile. She would lean into him, but she can't; she's too intently focused on the way his mouth moves with hers, the way their breaths tangle between kisses.

It consumes her.

Each shift of his lips is something new, something delicate and aching and quietly desperate. Her hands tighten in his hair. She doesn’t mean to pull- only to keep him there, close, tethered.

He doesn’t resist. If anything, he kisses her deeper. 

She pulls back for a moment, breathless. Her fingers stay tangled in his hair and his fingers remain on her face. She gets just a couple of breaths in before she's pulling him in again.

There is no need for more words, no space for misunderstandings. 

There is just this. 

Just them.  

Chapter Text

Link wants to kiss Zelda forever.

They could stay here. Just like this. Let the world forget them. Let the wind carry away their names. He doesn’t need anything but this.

She likes him back. She  loves  him back.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to confess like that, all at once, like his heart had been waiting at the edge of his mouth for years. But she’d asked, and everything just came tumbling out, like a ruptured dam that couldn't be stopped. It was the best impulsive decision that he's ever made.  She still loves him. 

He pulls away just far enough to see her face, and it nearly undoes him all over again.

She’s flushed and beautiful and real, and he’s not dreaming.

He kisses her again. Once. Twice. A third time near the corner of her mouth, just to hear the way she laughs.

Eventually, they sink to the ground. The grass is scratchy and the bark digs into his back, but he doesn’t care. Zelda lies beside him, turned toward him, and he studies her like it’s his first chance and he doesn’t want to waste a second.

Her nose is a little red from the wind. Her lashes flutter when she blinks. There’s a smudge of dirt near her temple he’s  dying  to brush away.

He does. She smiles, drowsy and warm, and that’s when he decides he might actually explode from happiness.

Eventually, the ground starts to win. Zelda shifts with a little grunt and rubs her back, wincing. Link lifts his head, instantly concerned.

“Getting uncomfortable?”

“A bit. The floor is a terrible mattress.” She stretches her legs out, then curls them again. “Sorry. I interrupted the romantic moment, didn’t I?”

He shakes his head, eyes soft.  She could never ruin any moment like this.  Every moment with her could be a kind of magic.

He watches her, utterly lovesick, and can’t believe he gets to be near her like this. That she let him in again.

She shifts again and winces.

“You okay?” he asks, sitting up a little.

She sighs. “Just sore. Shifting uterus and the onset of different hormones and all.”

Link winces in sympathy. “You need to let me borrow your textbook. Or just explain absolutely everything in it. Or both.” He nudges her foot gently with his. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I want to kiss you on the ground.”

Zelda blushes. "Next time?"

He shrugs, a smile tugging helplessly at the corners of his mouth. “I’m hopeful.”

She huffs a soft laugh, and for a moment, they just stand there, neither sure how to move forward now that the world has shifted under their feet.

Then Zelda clears her throat and says, “We should probably start heading back. Didn't you want to purchase something in the village?"

“Oh- sugar.” His face lights up. “Your mind’s going to be blown by sugar. I’ll be able to make so many things. Cakes, pies, cinnamon buns…”

Zelda hums skeptically. “I already adore honey. It’s hard to imagine anything surpassing it.”

“That’s just because you don’t remember sugar,” he says. “You’ll see. Just as long as you don't put it in any eggs-  oh ."

"What?" Zelda demands. "You sound like you had a grand revelation of some sorts."

He snaps. " That's  the reason why you wanted all of those horrible egg dishes- it's because you're pregnant. I should'verealized sooner. It's just cravings. Only that could explain it."

"My egg dishes are not horrendous. They're sweet and savory," she protests.

“Mmh.” He gives her a sideways glance, warmth blooming in his chest despite himself. “I’ll make you all the sweet and savory egg dishes you want. Since you’re growing a person and all.”

Zelda glares at him without any bite, and that makes him throw his arms around her waist and hug her close.

She doesn’t push him away.

Not even when they start walking again and he stays stubbornly wrapped around her, one arm looped around her waist like he’s afraid she’ll float off if he lets go. She clears her throat and tries to act efficient, straightening her tunic and smoothing her hair like they didn’t just spend the last half hour completely wrapped around each other.

“Link,” she murmurs, cheeks pink as they near the village path. “You don’t have to- people will see-”

“I know,” he says, utterly unbothered. “Let them.”

Zelda groans softly under her breath, but doesn’t actually stop him. Her hand finds his on her waist instead, fingers curling loosely around his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They reach the rope bridge into the village.

He leans in and kisses her temple- because he can. Because she’s his to kiss now, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that.

Zelda stumbles.

She pushes lightly at his arm like she means to escape, but there’s no force behind it. He just pulls her closer and grins into her hair.

She exhales, defeated, and lets herself lean into him.

The village hums gently around them- wind in the rafters, Rito voices carrying above, the smell of something savory drifting from the inn’s direction- but Link barely registers any of it. His whole world is her.

They find their way to the general store, where Link crows happily at finally finding his much-needed cane sugar. He buys all of the butter for good measure also. Zelda walks around the shop until she pauses in front of the arrows.

"These feel familiar. Why do these feel familiar? Do you know if I did any archery?" She asks Link. He shrugs.

"You gave me a bow to fight against Ganon? Other than that, I don't remember."

She hums thoughtfully. "You should let me borrow your bow sometime to see if I can shoot it."

“It’s not exactly light,” he says. “But sure. We’ll find somewhere open.”

That earns him a smile. He gestures toward the path. “Ready?”

They pass the inn on their way out of the village. Link pokes his head in.

He returns a second later. “They’ve got hammocks.”

Zelda peers past him. “And?”

“They’re hung too high. And I’m not cramming both of us into one. Not with you-” He stops. “You know.”

She lifts a brow. “Pregnant?”

He doesn't want to treat her like she's glass. But at the same time, it's impossible for his protective instincts to not flare up.

“Yes,” he says, steady. “Pregnant.”

Zelda arches an eyebrow. “You’re not going to start wrapping me in blankets and declaring I can’t walk more than five steps, are you?”

He snorts. “Only if you suggest sleeping in a net strung halfway to the ceiling.”

"You know that in most things regarding this, I am in agreement with you. A hammock would be a horrible idea. I just prefer it when the decision is my own."

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fair enough.”

They start walking again, slow steps down the sloped walkway out of the village. They'll spend the night at the stable right on the outskirts of the village. He swings the bag of sugar at his side.

“I trust you,” he says after a moment. “I just… want to be careful. That’s all.”

She squeezes his hand. “I know.”

They make their way to the stable with no problems, given how short the distance was. Zelda asks for one bed instead of two, and he wants to pin her against that nearby tree and... And he can't even finish that thought, because it makes him turn too red. He makes do by kissing her on the cheek before going to the cooking pot.

"Any requests? I could make you that egg and cinnamon thing you were talking about a little bit ago."

"I'm never experimenting with egg dishes again. You'll tease me too much."

He lifts his hands. "No teasing the pregnant person anymore. Not like it's your fault or anything."

"See? You're doing it again. I maintain that my combinations sound delicious, and the eggs and honey, as poorly as it was cooked, tasted very good."

He shrugs and then begins rummaging around his supplies. He's going to make egg tarts for dessert, but probably not eggs for the main meal. He settles on a vegetable rice stir fry. 

A thought pops into his head as he's pulling out some hyrule herb, and he glances at Zelda. "What kind of foods are good for pregnancy? Are there any in particular?"

Zelda perks up. “The textbook has a small section on it- one moment.” There’s the sound of her digging through her satchel, a faint  hah  of triumph, and then the flipping of pages. “Mostly it talks about cravings. The fact that I’m craving sweets so much suggests I might need more energy-dense foods.”

“Like sugar,” he says, pointing at her with a wooden spoon.

“Yes, exactly.” She taps the page with satisfaction. “Also, did you know some people crave soap? That usually indicates an iron deficiency- thank Hylia that’s not me.”

He pauses mid-stir. “Soap?”

Zelda shrugs. “The body is mysterious.”

He mutters, “That’s one word for it,” and goes back to cooking. He'll need to add spinach and red meat to their diet; he doesn't want Zelda eating or craving any soap. “Alright, sweet and energy-dense and. I can work with that.

The rice turns out fine- not his best, not his worst- but Zelda eats it with polite approval. It’s the egg tarts that win her over. She lights up after the first bite, eyes going wide in surprise.

“These are incredible,” she says, and before he can downplay it, she leans across and kisses him on the cheek. “You're forgiven for what you said about the eggs.”

That makes his ears go red again, but he manages a casual shrug like her praise doesn’t mean everything to him.

They sit back for a moment, the meal winding down, the last bit of evening sun slipping past the stable walls. Zelda pokes at a crumb with her fork, then says, without looking up, “You said that you remembered loving me. Before the Calamity.”

“Kinda?” He leans his chin into his hand. “Not like, a clear memory. Just this… overwhelming feeling. I’ve felt this way for a long while, to be honest.”

She hums, nodding slightly. “Obviously, more data is needed- and this is just my own experience- but I find that intuition like that tends to be accurate. There are exceptions, of course.” A blush appears on her cheeks and she ducks her head.“Like me believing we were married. My current hypothesis is that I just took the general feeling of love I had for you and applied it too broadly.”

Link laughs softly, nudging her knee slightly. “So, you loved me. And I probably loved you.”

“I know where this is heading, Link.” She gives him a pointed look, but there’s no sharpness to it. "No, I'm not sure if you're the father. It's possible given the circumstances- it's also possible that we both didn't know the other person felt that way. Also, the song from Kass suggested that I only realized I loved you after you 'shielded' me. I don't know anything, it's very frustrating. I like being able to figure out things."

He offers her the last tart. “We’ll figure it out.”

She takes it without a word but gives him a small, grateful smile as she bites in.

The silence between them now is easy, comfortable in the way that only comes after a good meal and a shared truth. Link leans back, hands resting on the floor behind him, and watches her finish the tart.

Eventually, Zelda dusts crumbs from her lap and stands, stretching her arms overhead with a quiet yawn. “We should get ready. It’s late.”

He nods and starts packing up the leftover supplies while she ducks into the stable to get changed. By the time he’s done and ready for bed, she's already curled up on their bed with her hair spread out in a soft fan behind her. 

She opens one eye, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You may. But nothing too involved. We’re still technically surrounded by people.”

That’s enough for him. He leans over and kisses her gently, once.

And then again, because once is not even close to enough.

Chapter Text

Zelda woke to warmth and weight and the slow, steady rhythm of Link’s breath against her neck. His arms were around her, one curled just under her chest, the other resting low on her waist, and she fit against him like she’d been made to.

She closed her eyes again. It wasn't time to wake up, not yet. It couldn't be when she felt so perfectly comfortable. She didn't feel a single one of the mild aches or pains that she's been experiencing; just pure bliss.

Her heart almost hurt from how much she loved him.

It was overwhelming in the quiet- how safe she felt, how right this was. How long had she denied herself this? Not long, really, but it had felt like an eternity. 

Link shifted behind her, pulling her in even closer, and she thought she might melt. He loved her. He  loved  her. Somehow, impossibly, completely. That knowledge brought a dizzying mixture of emotions. Part of her was still in disbelief- how? Despite all of the miscommunication and misunderstanding, despite all of her failures and flaws, he loved her? Another part of her felt like this was perfectly right, like it was just a piece slotted perfectly into place. Of course she loved him and he loved her; how could it be any other way?

She shifted slightly in his arms, trying not to wake him- but the movement must have stirred him anyway. His breath changed, deepened, and then she felt it: the slow curl of his fingers at her waist, and the faintest press of his lips at the back of her shoulder.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

“Mm,” she answered, not ready to leave this cocoon of warmth just yet.

There was a pause. Then, quietly, “Your hair’s doing something rather dramatic.”

"Is it poofy again?" she asks. She feels him nod. 

“Can I-” he hesitated, then spoke lower, almost shy, “Can I run my fingers through it?”

She peeked back at him. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, but soft, and hopeful. 

“Yes,” she said, voice muffled into the blanket. “But be gentle. It’s been through a lot, evidently.”

He chuckled and gently eased his hand up, fingertips threading through the wild cloud of blonde. She sighed as he touched her with slow, careful strokes. 

“It’s not fair,” she muttered. “Your hair never looks like this.”

“That’s because it already looks terrible,” he said, lips twitching. “There’s nowhere for it to go but up.”

She huffed a laugh, still buried in her blanket. “It’s choppy. Not terrible.”

"Choppy and wild. You should've seen me before I got you back, I don't think a day passed where it didn't have multiple branches in it that I didn't bother to pick out. I've done a better job of taking care of it since."

She slips one of her arms out of her blanket cocoon and then brings it up to Link's hair. It's smooth and very soft, a lot finer than her hair.

"Well, I think that it presently looks very nice."

Link smiled. “So does yours.”

She scoffed a little but didn't argue.

For a moment, they stayed like that- quiet and close- until her stomach gave a small, traitorous grumble.

Link pulled back just enough to look at her, smiling. “Breakfast?"

"I  am  growing a person inside me, that requires a lot of food energy."

He laughed under his breath and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Noted. Let’s get you fed.”

Link made crepes again, something she absolutely savored. He paired it with some wild berries and sugar, something that had her making extremely pleased sounds as she devoured several. Her eating habits were becoming as bad as his. 

“You’ve got something,” he said, leaning in and brushing his thumb gently at the corner of her mouth.

Before she could respond, he kissed the spot- then lingered, mouth finding hers in a kiss that was soft and unhurried.  When they finally pulled away, Zelda blinked up at him, feeling warm.

He stood to clear the dishes, and she reached for her notebook, flipping it open in her lap.

"How often do you think that we're going to kiss? Will it be on a daily basis, or do you think that the rate will slow down from how it's been holding? I'm trying to decide how much space in my notebook to set aside."

Link's gaze softened. "You want to put a section into your notebook just about us kissing?" His voice was soft.

She nodded, flipping through some of the blank pages of her notebook to try to gauge out how much to segment out."Well, yes- obviously it's quite the relationship development, so it deserves a lot of dedicated space for observations and notes about it."

He stared at her for a moment. "Wait- is that what your third notebook is for? Our relationship?"

"Yes. You are quite difficult to figure out, though-"

She's cut off before she can finish her sentence. Link's mouth has fit itself squarely over her own, and now he's kissing her again most ardently, filled with raw and earnest affection. Her heart skipped a beat, and her hand flew up to Link's face to steady herself and to keep him there just a moment longer.  

Eventually, she pulls back, but he's quick to rest his forehead against hers.

“You really made a whole notebook just about  us ?” he murmurs, his voice a little unsteady with awe.

Zelda lets her fingers linger at his jaw. He has a small scar that's invisible to the naked eye, but she can feel the slight raising of his skin. "Of course. You're a very important subject of study. Incredibly complex."

That makes his throat bob like he’s swallowed something thick, but he only nods. “I’ll try to give you good data, then.”

"In regards to kissing? Because I still need to establish the parameters for that. Variables that I'm thinking of include context, duration, and intent- though intent might be difficult to ascertain without directly stating it, which might interfere with the natural expression."

There's a soft sound from Link- not quite a laugh- and when she glances at him, his eyes are tender. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

Her brows furrowed in thought. “I suppose I could create a rubric for intent. Spontaneity versus premeditation, perhaps. Though that might require post-kiss interviews.”

Link’s fingers brushed along her cheek- barely there, just enough to make her breath hitch. “I’ll participate in any study you want,” he murmured, eyes so steady on hers. “As long as I get to keep kissing you.

Her heart stuttered. He said it so easily. Like kissing her was something he got to do. Like it was a privilege. She didn't know how he could be so casual and so sincere at once.

Still, she nodded, trying not to let the heat rising to her cheeks distract her. “That will make data collection much easier,” she said, flipping to a fresh page.

He laughed then- soft, breathless, a little disbelieving- and she glanced up to find him looking at her like she wassomething extraordinary.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to that.

They had been riding for a couple of hours when Zelda felt it. 

First, her hands became abnormally sweaty. 

Then came the tightness in her throat, like her collar had been drawn too snug. She actually tried to tug at it, but that didn'thelp remotely. After that came the waves: hot, clenching rolls low in her belly that slowly worked their way up, tightening behind her sternum.

She shifted subtly in her saddle. She could breathe through this. They needed to make good time because she could not travel like this for very long. 

But the heat only built- rising up her neck and across her scalp until her ears rang. Her mouth filled with saliva, and there was that unmistakable sour slick at the back of her throat. The jostling of the horse beneath her made everything worse. Each step rippled through her gut, sloshing something sickly inside her.

She clenched the reins tighter. Swallowed hard. Blinked. Tried to focus on the horizon. But her vision swam, and all at once she knew- this wasn’t something she could ride through. 

Zelda tugged her horse to the side of the trail and all but stumbled off, barely making it a few paces into the brush before doubling over. She retched, once, twice, a sharp and miserable sound that left her panting.

By the time Link caught up, she was on her knees, one hand braced against a tree. He didn’t say anything- just crouched beside her and rubbed slow circles on her back.

She spat into the dirt and wiped her mouth. "It just started," she said hoarsely. "I wasn't expecting it to be this awful."

Link's hand didn't stray from her back. His voice was low, tinged with concern. "Morning sickness?" 

Zelda nodded. Her head was still spinning, but the nausea was at least dissipating a little. 

"I'm  pregnant . I know that I'm pregnant- but even now, I'm still partly in denial. How can I be pregnant? I don't- I don't know. I don't remember getting here. How far along am I even? 6 weeks is when this usually starts, but it can begin earlier."

Her voice broke. “I don’t know what kind of mother I’m going to be. How can I? I certainly don't remember mine. I don't know if I’m ready. I mean... it'll be a person. An entire person that I'll be responsible for.”

Link didn't speak right away. He just stayed close and steady, his hand warm at her back.

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” he said quietly. “I know you'd like to, but… We’ll take this one step at a time. And whatever happens, I’ll be right there with you.”

His hand paused for a moment. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

Zelda turned to look at him, her eyes still glassy, but steadier now.

“Of course it is,” she whispered. “I want you with me. I think I need you with me.”

Chapter Text

Zelda wiped the tears from her eyes. "I don't know what's worse, the mood swings or the nausea. I don't even know how much of the mood swings are hormonal; it's awful."

She stood up then, brushing herself off slightly. "Well, that's enough moping then. As I've mentioned, we need to make good time."

Zelda turned toward the horse, reins in hand. She didn’t make it two steps before Link gently pulled them from her grip.

"Nope, we're taking a break," he said.

"Link, I'm fine-"

"I'm sure that you are. But we need a break for lunch anyways." She was also still pale, and looked near the brink of crying again.  

Link steered her gently by the elbow toward a patch of shade under a leaning tree just off the trail. It was quiet, and the breeze was steady.

He dropped his pack with a thud before rummaging around for some wrapped sandwiches. "Sit," he said, already handing her one. 

Zelda hesitated but obeyed, settling onto the grass with a huff. "A short break, and then we go."

He shrugged neutrally. He got out some honey and then offered it to Zelda with raised eyebrows. She nodded, though her face seemed a little red. He drizzled it over her sandwich for her.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence. The quiet of the forest surrounded them- just the chirp of birds, the rustle of leaves. Zelda shifted slightly, resting her back against the tree. Link glanced over once, then again when her chewing slowed.

Halfway through her sandwich, she blinked sleepily and leaned sideways against his shoulder without a word. Her body was warm and heavy against his, her breathing already beginning to even out.

Link stilled. For a second, he just sat there, sandwich in hand, unsure whether to laugh or sigh.

He set his sandwich down, then gently took the rest of hers from her hand, careful not to wake her. Her fingers unclenched easily-she was already out.

With one arm, he shifted, easing her down until her head rested in his lap. She stirred a little, brow twitching, but didn’t wake. He waited a beat, then adjusted his cloak to keep the sun off her face.

Her pack was just within reach. He tugged it closer and unbuckled the top, rifling through until he found her heavy anatomy textbook. Has she really been carrying this for so long? He'll have to ask if he can take it for her. 

There was a folded-up paper bookmark in it, so he flipped to that page. 

'First Trimester: Maternal Adaptations and Common Symptoms', it read. 

Below the heading, the text was packed tight- paragraphs stacked against diagrams and labeled graphs. He squinted at a chart showing rising hormone levels across the first twelve weeks:  hCG, progesterone, estrogen. The lines climbed and curved, annotated with words he couldn’t pronounce.

He started reading, slowly.

The first trimester of pregnancy involves significant endocrinological changes, notably the exponential increase in hylian chorionic gonadotropin (hCG) produced by the syncytiotrophoblast. hCG peaks around week ten and is correlated with symptoms such as nausea, emesis, and fatigue.

He blinked at the page.  Sync… syncytio…

That word wasn’t going to stick.

He tried again.

Progesterone, produced initially by the corpus luteum and later by the placenta, contributes to smooth muscle relaxation, gastrointestinal slowing, and resultant bloating or constipation. Estrogen levels also rise steadily, influencing vascularization and breast tissue proliferation .

He read it twice, maybe three times. It was like reading Sheikah script upside down.

The next section was marginally more helpful:

Nausea or NVP- commonly referred to as morning sickness- is reported in approximately 70% of pregnancies. Symptoms may occur at any time of day and are likely multifactorial, involving both hormonal and neurosensory components. Management may include dietary adjustments (frequent small meals, high-protein snacks), ginger (Zingiber officinale), and herbal teas such as peppermint or chamomile.

That part stuck. Ginger. Peppermint tea. Smaller meals.

He was halfway through a paragraph on metabolic shifts when Zelda stirred. Her hand flexed against his leg, then her eyes blinked open, hazy and unfocused.

“…Are you reading my textbook?” she mumbled.

Link glanced down, caught. “Yeah.”

She squinted at the cover, then back at him, amusement tugging faintly at her mouth. “You’re very studious.”

"I thought that I could learn a little. The names and charts are beyond me though- what even is a.... corpus luteum?"

Zelda snorted. “It’s part of the ovary. It produces progesterone.”

“That doesn’t help,” he muttered.

She stretched a little but didn’t sit up. “You could’ve just asked.”

“I didn’t want to wake you. You looked tired.”

“I  am  tired.” She exhaled, eyes slipping shut again for a moment. “But it’s sweet. You’re sweet. Even if the endocrine system is clearly not your specialty.”

“Not even a little.” He shut the book, careful not to lose her bookmark. “I got as far as ‘eat small meals’ and ‘try ginger.' I'm going to make you gingerbread as soon as I have access to an oven, though."

Zelda huffed softly and pushed herself up, brushing a leaf from her pants. “Alright. Break’s over.”

Link looked at her unsure. "Are you sure? We could just make camp early."

“I’m back to my baseline level of dizziness. It’s fine.”

His brows lifted. “There’s a baseline?”

“Yes,” she said, standing with a stretch. “It means I can walk in a straight line if I focus, and I’m not about to throw up. That qualifies as functional.”

“That still doesn’t sound great,” he said, watching her closely.

“It’s better than earlier,” she countered, reaching for the reins. “And we do still need to make good time.”

He stood too, brushing grass from his cloak. “Let me at least carry your pack.”

She hesitated, then handed it over. “Fine. But only because you read the textbook.”

He smiled faintly. “So that’s how I earn points now?”

“Exactly,” she said, already heading back toward the road.

The sun had shifted by the time they set out again, light slanting lower through the trees. Link kept the horse at a gentle pace, eyes flicking to Zelda every few minutes. She sat straighter now, though her grip on the saddle was still a little tight.

“Water?” he asked once.

"Link. I'm okay."

He nodded, but his gaze lingered a moment longer. Her color was better, and she hadn’t swayed in the saddle since they started out again- but he still kept a hand near the reins, ready to steady her if she faltered.

Eventually, the path gradually sloped upwards, and the fountain entered view. Sanidin Park Ruins. He mostly remembered the name of it because he liked the horse statue. 

Zelda leaned forward slightly in the saddle.  "Is that a fountain? That's fascinating. And it's still running after 100 years? It must be on a continuous loop, but the fact that all the parts of it are still extant, likely without any upkeep, is remarkable." 

She slid down from the horse before he could offer help, already striding toward the fountain with quiet curiosity. Her hands hovered near the base, then the spout, observing how the water cycled back into itself.

"I found your horse near here. Part of me wonders if it's because this is one of the last places that we visited before the Calamity started, so their ancestor was looking for us or something."

"That's sad. I hope that they weren't lonely while waiting."

"They had an apple tree within biting distance and no Guardians nearby, seems as good of a place to hunker down as any."

She gave a faint hum, but her expression had gone quiet again, thoughtful. Then, without another word, she stepped closer and reached for the Slate at Link’s hip. Her fingers brushed his tunic as she unhooked it, gaze already lifting toward the overlook.

She walked right in front of the horse, then adjusted herself slightly. Soon, she went still.

He walked up and wrapped his arm around his waist. Then he reconsidered, because even though they were kissing and maybe- probably- very likely in a relationship, was this too presumptuous? But then Zelda was already coming out of the memory before he had time to adjust.

"So I was nice to you, at least eventually."

"You were nice to me in the frog memory."

"The very one where I asked you to eat said frog?"

“You smiled at me during it."

She huffed a laugh, leaning a little into his side. "Low bar."

“I’ll take it.” His arm stayed where it was. She didn’t pull away.

After a moment, her expression turned quiet again. “I do still feel bad,” she said. “For being so mean to you back then.”

He glanced at her. “Zel-”

“I know you say it’s fine. And maybe it is. But I was cruel. I shouldn’t have been.”

He shook his head. “You were under a lot of pressure. We both were. I never held it against you.”

Her gaze dropped for a beat, then lifted again- this time with a subtle shift, a flicker of something more playful.

“Is there a way that I could make it up to you?”

"There is nothing to be made up for."

She tilted her head slightly. “Link. I was trying to lead into offering to kiss you.”

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Uh.

He saw Zelda's smile curl at the corner of her mouth before she was leaning down and then their lips were meeting. It was slow and soft, like she was savoring the moment, and he couldn’t help but smile too. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder, and he felt a warmth spread through him, calm and steady.

When she pulled back, her smile lingered and her eyes stayed on his, still shining.

“Was that okay?” she whispered.

He nodded, heart thudding. “Yeah. Really okay.”

Link couldn’t help but grin, his heart still racing from the kiss. “So, uh… does that go in your notebook?”

Zelda’s smile softened, but her eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s definitely worth noting.”

He chuckled softly, feeling a warmth settle in his chest. “I’m honored.”

Zelda gave him a look, part fond, part teasing, before stepping back. She reached for his waist and he got excited for a minute, but she was just hooking the Sheikah Slate back onto his belt. "We should get going," she said, tilting her head towards the path. 

Link nodded, still feeling the lingering warmth of the kiss. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

With a final glance at the quiet ruins around them, they started back down the path, side by side, and the world felt just a little bit lighter.

Chapter Text

It was darkening, and although there was a stable close, neither of them wanted to make a break for it in the night. They decided to set up camp where they were, a fairly safe place Link assured her. 

Link cleared a patch of ground, and she collected kindling. She wandered a little way off the path, scanning the ground for anything dry. The leaves were damp from the last storm, but she spotted a few thin sticks beneath a tree and bent to gather them. Her balance shifted as she crouched, and for a breath she stayed perfectly still, waiting for the dizziness to pass. It did- mostly.

Zelda straightened, a small bundle in her hands. That was enough, wasn’t it? She told herself it was. Her fingers were a little clumsy as she picked up a few more twigs, but she didn’t drop them.

By the time she returned to the camp, Link had a ring of stones laid out and was breaking apart larger branches for the fire. She knelt beside him and set down her collection.

He glanced at the pile. “That’s… a start.”

She frowned. “It’s dry.”

“It’s green.” He picked up one of the sticks and snapped it in half. It bent before it broke, and the inside was still pale with moisture.

Zelda sighed and sat back on her heels. “I thought it felt light enough.”

Without a word, Link stood and offered her a hand. She hesitated, then took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you.”

They walked together a little deeper into the trees. He moved with practiced ease, ducking under low branches, scanning the ground. Every so often, he pointed something out- twigs that snapped clean in his fingers, bark that peeled dry from fallen logs. He handed her one, then another, showing her how to test them by feel.

“Anything that bends like this,” he said, flexing a small branch in his hand until it curved in a soft arc, “won’t catch. You want it to crack.”

She nodded, listening, watching, trying not to feel embarrassed. He wasn’t teasing. He was just… good at this. And he was trying to help.

“I thought I was doing fine,” she muttered, more to herself than him.

"You get to know lots about pogester whatever it was, and I get to know lots about collecting kindling."

"Progesterone? That's the hormone responsible for maintaining the pregnancy,” Zelda explained, her voice slightly more confident now. “It helps prepare the uterus for the fertilized egg and supports it through the first trimester.”

"See? Strengths and weaknesses. Besides, I don't even know how I know all this stuff. You know it because you'vestudied it and because you're smart."

"I don't feel very smart right now," she grumbled. 

Link shrugged. “You don’t have to feel it for it to be true.”

Zelda didn’t answer, but her fingers tightened around the bundle of twigs she’d collected. She picked one up, tested it, and it snapped cleanly. Better.

They walked back in silence, the light thinning between the trees. When they reached the camp, she handed him the bundle. He looked it over and gave a small nod.

“Much better.”

She sank down beside the fire pit, quietly pleased.

Link made her eggs and honey for dinner and a normal omelet for himself, and she was too occupied enjoying it to notice if he gave any teasing glances or not. He put the honey on after he cooked it, which made it less of a mess and also preserved more of the flavor. 

By the time they finished eating, the fire had burned low, and the chill in the air had deepened. She wrapped her cloak tighter and rubbed her arms.

Link stood and shook out the tent tarp, then motioned with a tilt of his head. “Come on. You should rest.”

She didn’t argue. Her legs ached from the ride, her stomach was full, and her body had been asking for rest for the last hour. She ducked into the tent while Link checked the horses, and by the time he joined her, she was already curled up in the bedroll, half-asleep.

Link comes in and curls up next to her, and she relishes in his warmth. Although not freezing, the night is getting chilly, and Link is warmer than any blanket that he could ever produce.

"Sorry I didn't help out," she murmurs. "I want to help more."

Link's hand finds her hair, fingers brushing through it. "It's okay," he whispers, voice soft. "You looked really tired."

"Progesterone... is the same hormone responsible for making me this tired," she says sleepily. "It's responsible for a good number of things.  It-” she yawned, long and soft, “-it raises body temperature… slows digestion… affects the smooth muscle tissues…”

"Fascinating," Link whispers. He's still stroking her hair now and his hand also keeps brushing her neck and her eyes are drooping even more.

"Also has... brain effects," she murmured, her words growing slower. "Something with... neurotransmitter."

Link smiled faintly, still stroking her hair.

“Mm,” she mumbles, barely awake now. “You’re warm…”

And then she was quiet, her breathing evening out, sleep taking her completely.

The next morning broke clear and cool, the sky streaked with soft gray clouds, but no sign of rain. They ate quickly, packed up, and were on the road not long after the sun crested the horizon.

Zelda was grateful to feel only the faintest hint of dizziness. No nausea, no overwhelming fatigue, just manageable light-headedness that came and went like a passing thought. She could ride, think, and talk without it pulling at her, and that alone felt like a small miracle.

The landscape had shifted as they rode, the trees thinning to reveal scattered remains of buildings- collapsed walls, broken stone foundations, empty archways swallowed by ivy. She had seen ruins before, but never this many at once. 

She didn’t say anything at first. But as more ruins passed them by, the pressure in her chest started to build.

“Link,” she said softly, after a long stretch of silence. "Am I meant to fix this?"

He turned his head slightly but didn’t answer right away.

“I mean, I’m the princess,” she went on, almost laughing at herself. “Is that what’s expected of me? To rebuild a kingdom from nothing? It’s overwhelming. I wouldn't even know where to start- I hardly even remember myself, let alone all the components that would be required to rebuild.”

Link reined his horse closer. “Breathe.”

She did. Slowly, shakily.

“You’ve already done more than anyone had any right to ever ask,” he said. “You don’t owe anyone a rebuilt castle or a perfect kingdom.”

“But-”

“If you want to help rebuild, we’ll figure it out,” he said. “Together. But there’s no rush. There’s time.”

Zelda looked at him. His expression was steady, calm. Believing.

The pressure eased. Slightly. 

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay.”

They considered onward. The buildings were creepy slightly, but also sad and lonely. They made her shiver slightly. 

They rode to a lake with some aspen trees surrounding it. Link dismounted and she followed suit, then he pulled out the Slate.

"Even with knowing the general location and having a picture, this one took  forever  to find. Gimme a couple of minutes, this I'll get it eventually."

She took up the search as well. 

They moved slowly along the bank, boots sinking slightly into the soft earth. The wind stirred the aspen leaves above them, and the lake caught the light just enough to shimmer.

Zelda compared the view to the photo in her mind- trees in the distance, a small upturn of earth.  She turned in a slow circle.

Then- “Here,” she said, stopping a few paces ahead.

Link looked up from the Slate. He walked to her side, glanced around, then at the screen, then back again.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You found it.”

She held out her hand for the Slate and Link handed it right on over. She turned the screen on, everything aligned.

The world blinked out. 

" T hen, we'll need some adjustments on that Divine Beast so Daruk can manage it as easily as possible ."

She'd been walking fast- too fast- gesturing with her hands. Her mind raced ahead of her words, tangled in the intricacies of mechanical systems and Sheikah tech, all her thoughts spiraling towards improvement, optimization, replication. The King wanted answers. She wanted purpose.

What she said and what she thought she didn't know. Daruk had gotten it moving, a remarkable accomplishment, but there was so much to do for its defensive capabilities in particular.

She slowed when she realized he hadn't said anything. As usual.

He stood behind her, exactly the proper following distance- even in that he wouldn't dare to deviate from the highest standards.

She faltered. She always did this. Too much talking, too much detail. She hated getting carried away and irritating those around her. 

He was perfect. He surely didn't want to hear about this.

"H ow proficient are you right now at wielding that sword on your back? " she found herself asking. ' How much better than me are you, truly, ' is what she meant. ' How much do you judge me? ' How much do you hate me? How big of a failure do you think I am ?'

"C an you hear it yet... hero? " Because if he couldn't hear it, that was the one way he wasn't perfect. The one way where they were both failures. 

Zelda blinked hard as she came out of it. She was having less dramatic responses to coming out of these memories, likely due to repeated exposure. Her breath was quicker and her grip on the Slate was tighter, but other than that no effects.

Link was clutching her arm. She would rather it be her waist. Better yet, a full on hug. Oh well, whatever he is comfortable with. 

"So?" Link asked.

"I thought you were perfect. Although mayhaps unfair to you now, I think that I still view you as perfect, I just no longer resent you for it."

Link snorts. "I'm not perfect. You're perfect. So perfect."

And now she wants to laugh because she's also so far from perfect. She feels like a complete mess only being held together by Link at all times. 

She shook her head. "I think we both know I'm far from perfect."

Link shook his head, his thumb brushing gently brushing over her arm. "You don't have to be perfect to be... everything. You're everything."

She could feel the warmth of his hand on her, steady and reassuring. It was enough, and maybe that was all she needed to be.

"So are you. You're my everything, at the very least."

Link froze for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. She caught his face turning a deep shade of red before he hid it in her neck, but oh, that was nice. She liked having him there, she should try to arrange them at night to sleep like this. She needed to write this down.  

Link stayed still for a long moment, his breath warm against her skin. Zelda could feel the heat radiating from him, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself settle into the quiet, the weight of his presence calming her.

After a few moments, Link cleared his throat and shifted, pulling back just enough to look at her. His face was still flushed, but his gaze was steady.

“Ready to go?” he asked softly, but there was something in his tone that made it feel like more than just a simple question.

Zelda nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quiet but certain. “Let’s go.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, the unspoken bond between them thicker than words. Then, with a final glance at the Slate, she stood, taking his hand as they moved forward. 

Chapter Text

The stable came into view just past a bend in the road. This stable didn't seem as crowded as most of the other ones they've visited, but this stable is more tucked away than a lot of other stables. He'd actually not known that it was here until near the end of his journey, despite being close to it multiple times. 

The sun was still fairly high, but the day had cooled, and shadows were starting to stretch long across the ground. They'd have plenty of time to recuperate before starting the next stretch of the journey.

He took care of the horses and Zelda got them a bed, tucked into the corner and away from the scant travelers that were there. When he joined her again, she was sitting on the edge of the cot, her hands in her lap. But she didn't seem upset or anything , just - quiet.  

He gave her hand a squeeze and then told her that he was going to get started on dinner. He made a simple porridge, but he also cut up apples and simmered them in a pot with the sugar from Rito Village, along with some cinnamon. When the apples were softened enough, he just folded them into the porridge.

Link headed back in and handed her the warm bowl with a quiet, "Here."

Zelda blinks up at him. "It smells delicious. Thank you."

"Used some of the sugar from Rito Village. Best purchase ever, when we're done traveling, I'll have to head back there on a weekly basis to make sure I'm stocked up."

She gave him a soft smile. "With the Slate, I'm sure. And then you can take copious notes on teleportation, and I'll study them while you're abandoning me to Rito Village."

Link chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I’ll make sure to leave you with plenty of research material,” he said, settling beside her. “Maybe I can even bring you back a souvenir every time.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips still curved in that small smile. “You’re just trying to get me to forgive you for your ‘abandonment,’ aren’t you?”

“Hey, if it works, it works,” Link teased, nudging her playfully. He gestured to the bowl in her hands. “But you still haven’t finished the porridge. What do you think?”

She took another small bite, savoring it this time, and her eyes softened. “It’s perfect. You know, I think I could eat it all if I wasn’t so… tired.”

"Do you think you can manage just a little bit more? Is there anything I can add to make it better?"

"It's already perfect, I love the apples."

Link gave her a warm smile, grateful that she was enjoying the meal despite her fatigue. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, pushing the bowl just a little closer to her. “You sure you don’t want more? You’ve barely touched it.”

Zelda gave him a tired but affectionate glance, then shook her head softly. “I really can’t. Just… too tired.”

"Let's get you to bed then. I can get out your pajamas."

"I'm lay-down tired, not sleep tired yet," Zelda protested. "Maybe I'll have you act as a scribe for my notes."

"Of course," he said. Then he paused. "...my handwriting isn't the best? It's not as good as yours. Actually, it's kind of like chicken scratch, and my spelling also isn't the best. I think that I wasn't taught that well to write or something. But I'm still willing to try."

Zelda’s smile was quick, almost amused. “It doesn’t have to be neat. Just yours.”

He held her gaze, the doubt easing a little. “Alright. What do you want me to write, then?”

Zelda shuffled around in her bag amongst her growing notebook collection and then produced the one she was looking for before flipping through the pages, then finally handing it to Link. 

"Is this the stuff about kissing?" he laughed once he got it. True to form, it consisted of a chart with descriptions that sounded far too technical. 

"Mm-hmm. I got the memory down already, that's the only additional thing I need to get down- I want to make sure that I don't forget anything again."

"I'm ready when you are."

Zelda scooted a little closer so she could peek over his arm as he hovered the pencil over the page. p. “The operative variables remain context, duration, and intent,” she said, indicating the entry field with a fingertip.  “Context was outdoors, shortly after a memory- no emotional distress, though.”

“That’s an important qualifier,” Link muttered, carefully starting to copy her words.

“For duration…” Zelda hesitated, then made a sheepish face. “No precise measurement was recorded. Data set incomplete.”

Link huffed a laugh, glancing sideways at her. “Guess we’ll have to kiss again for research purposes.”

Zelda didn’t dignify that with a response- just nudged him lightly with her shoulder, eyes glinting.

“And the intent,” she continued, “was to tease.”

Link made a face. “Hey!”

She gave a quiet laugh. “You’re my scribe. No commentary.”

He gasped, mock-affronted. “That’s a blatant misuse of your authority.”

"You're the one who called me Princess, I'm using the title."

“Well, now I’m filing a complaint,” he said. “Scribes have rights, too.”

"Filing a complaint with whom- me?"

Link raised an eyebrow. “Yes, you. And I expect a full investigation.”

Zelda closed her eyes. "I'll open a case. Is that what Princesses do, judicially? I will endeavor to be unbiased and fair, and to not let my love for you cloud my judgement."

Link tried to keep a straight face, but his ears went pink anyway.

“I think you’re already biased,” he muttered.

Zelda peeked one eye open. “Am I?”

He gave her a look- mildly exasperated, mostly fond. “You said love.”

She hummed, entirely too composed now. “I did, didn’t I?”

He scribbled  intent: teasing  onto the page in crooked letters, then glanced over. “If the intent was to tease… it worked.”

Zelda smiled. Her smile was drooping slightly though; she must really be tired. "I shall take the win."

"Anything else you want me to get down?" he checked. She shook her head.

"With that completed, I think that I'm ready to settle down."

Link set the notebook and pencil aside, careful not to smudge the fresh writing. “All right,” he said, brushing his palms together. “Research closed for the night.”

Zelda let out a soft breath and pushed herself upright with some effort. “I need to change first.”

“I can grab your pajamas,” Link offered, already reaching for her bag. He pulled out the folded sleep clothes she always kept near the top and handed them over without fuss.

“Thank you,” she said, standing and heading behind the changing screen.

He waited and stretched a little, shaking out his arms and adjusting himself slightly from side to side while she got changed. Once she was done, he accompanied her to bed and tucked her in before changing into his own pajamas and sliding in right next to her.

He was expecting Zelda to be asleep already- but he was greeted by emerald green eyes shining in the dim lantern light.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," he whispered to her. 

Zelda gave a small shake of her head, her voice soft. “I can’t fall asleep without you.”

The words made something settle in his chest- warm, solid. He didn’t speak right away. Just reached for her as she inched closer, letting her curl into his side without hesitation.

Her head found its place beneath his chin, her hand resting lightly over his heart.

He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m here,” he murmured.

Her fingers gave the slightest squeeze, and her eyes drifted closed. Within moments, her breathing evened out, and Link stayed like that- still, steady, quietly anchoring her to sleep.

The first light of morning woke him up.

That's one habit that's persisted since he first woke up; he almost always woke up when the sun rose, or sometimes before it. 

This gave him plenty of time to just lie down and observe Zelda's sleeping form, however. Her hair was messy again, and she was drooling slightly on his shirt, and the morning light illuminated her slight freckles. She was gorgeous. 

The soft warmth of her breath against his chest was the only sound in the quiet morning. Link smiled to himself, unable to resist the urge to gently brush a lock of hair from her face . She shifted slightly, her lips pressing into his shirt as she murmured in her sleep, unaware of his quiet admiration.

But as much as he loved watching her sleep, his favorite part was watching her wake up.

He held his breath as she shifted, her small movements gentle and familiar. The way her brow furrowed ever so slightly, the soft little hum that escaped her lips- it was all him trying to memorize every second of it.

Then, without warning, Zelda pressed her lips to his collarbone, a sleepy, innocent kiss that sent warmth rushing through him.

She kissed him again, this time higher, along his neck, her lips brushing against his skin with a softness that made his heart race. He let out a soft exhale, his hand instinctively reaching to tangle in her hair.

Zelda’s lips traveled up to his cheek, leaving a trail of warmth behind. He turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze with a lazy smile.

And then, finally, her lips found his.

He smiled into this kiss. Her lips were especially pliable in the morning. Lazily, they continued the kiss, taking the occasional break for breaths but then finding each other again. He found Zelda's hand and intertwined their fingers together as he melted more and more into each other.

“Uh… excuse me?”

Link froze, the voice cutting through the quiet like a splash of cold water. His eyes shot open, and Zelda quickly pulled back, blinking in confusion. He lifted his head to see a very red stable worker trying to get their attention.

"There's someone here to see you," the stablehand squeaked, before scurrying off.

They looked at each other for a split second before scrambling to get off of each other. His heart was beating fast like a monster was attacking. He was adjusting his shirt while Zelda was quickly combing through her hair, though neither of them could fix how red they both looked. 

Footsteps sounded in the distance, and then the flap of the tent was pushed aside. A short, old woman with beady eyes walked in.

"Finally found you," she said, crossing her arms.

Impa was here. 

Chapter Text

Zelda blinked, her mind still sluggish with sleep and shock. The small, elderly woman standing in front of them was staring at Link with a ferocity that made Zelda instinctively sit up straighter.

"You," she said, pointing at Link. “You couldn’t bother to stop by Kakariko? Couldn’t even think that maybe she’d want to see the people who cared about her? Instead, you run all over Hyrule like a headless cucco while I spent a hundred years waiting?”

"Impa,  she  just spent one hundred years straight fighting Ganon. She deserves a break, not to be thrust into responsibilities and demands the second that she got out."

Impa’s eyes narrowed, her mouth pulling into a thin, hard line. “ You think I would have thrown burdens on her? ” she spat.

Link’s jaw clenched. He didn’t back down. “I know you’re the one who told me over and over again what I had to be . What I owed. I wasn’t going to let you do the same to her.”

For a moment, it was dead silent, the air between them crackling with the things neither of them were saying. Zelda could feel the tension - hot, sharp, and stifling - as they stared each other down.

Then Impa shook her head slowly, almost in disbelief, her voice dropping lower but no less fierce. “I wasn’t waiting for a Princess. I was waiting for  my friend .” Then she turned towards Zelda. "I've spent  so long  missing you. Did you not even want to visit?"

Zelda felt crushing guilt, despite the fact that she didn't even know who this was. Before she could open her mouth to apologize, Link snapped back. 

"Impa,  lay off ," Link said. She's not sure if she's ever heard him so angry. “She has amnesia and doesn't remember anything. We've been  trying  to get some of her memories back, apologies that took precedent.”

Impa stiffened, her mouth tightening into a thin line. Her sharp eyes flicked between them, reading too much, seeing too much.

For a long moment, she said nothing- then let out a harsh breath, the fight bleeding out of her shoulders just a little. “Amnesia,” she repeated, voice rough. “Of course.”

She turned fully to Zelda now, her expression no less intense but no longer angry - just weary. “You don’t know me, then. You don’t remember anything.”

Zelda swallowed hard, feeling small beneath the weight of her gaze. “I’m… sorry,” she said, the words fumbling out without thought. She hated how weak they sounded.

Impa's face softened. "Not your fault." Her voice was softer now. "I'm sorry that I snapped at you, that wasn't fair of me. I missed you, Princess."

Then she turned sharply back toward Link, her mouth twisting into a scowl. “You, on the other hand,” she said, voice sharpening like a blade, “have no excuse. You knew where I was. You knew what it would have meant. And you still dragged her across every corner of Hyrule like a damn fool.”

Link tensed beside Zelda, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He opened his mouth, but Impa cut him off with a glare that could have split stone.

"Out." She commanded imperiously. "Zelda and I have much to discuss."

Link sputtered. “No. I’m not just-”

“Out,” Impa snapped again, sharper this time. “You can loiter outside if you must, but this is between me and her.”

Zelda glanced at him, unsure, and Link didn’t move. His jaw was clenched tight, his whole body stiff with refusal. For a moment, he looked to her- silent, tense- as if asking,  Should I?

She gave the smallest nod she could manage.

Link hesitated a second longer, something stormy flickering across his face, then finally, stiffly, he turned and stalked out the door.

The flap of the tent swung shut behind him, leaving Zelda alone with the woman who had called herself her friend.

The silence in the tent stretched between them, heavy and thick. Zelda could feel the tension in her chest, her mind swirling with all the things she didn’t know, all the things she should’ve understood. Impa, however, seemed to have quieted for a moment, as if letting the storm of words settle before continuing.

Impa took a deep breath and looked at Zelda, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “I suppose I should introduce myself properly,” she said, her voice gentler now, but still with that undercurrent of something old and raw. “I’m Impa, Chief of the Sheikah, formerly your guard. But… more than that, I was your best friend.”

Zelda blinked. This was all just so sudden, being confronted by someone from her past whom she had no recollection of. It was like how she felt among the Zora, but worse if possible. Should she greet her like she would a stranger or try to act as if they were familiar?

Impa studied her for a minute then laughed. "It's okay. I must seem like a stranger to you.  Goddesses,  I'm old. But we basically grew up together- I was selected to be your Sheikah guard, and from then on, we were basically inseparable before Link took my job."

"Oh- is that part of why I disliked him so much?" she asked. Why she had such a degree of resentment was something that she was still puzzling out.

"That's why I didn't like him, and I'd be honored if that was a part of why you didn't like him. A large part of why you disliked him was because he increased the pressure on you from everybody."

Zelda nodded, slotting that piece of knowledge into her brain. 

"Do you... do you happen to know more of my backstory growing up? Me and Link have been trying to figure things out, but he has amnesia also, and we've found almost all of the memories, yet it still feels like there's so much I'm missing."

Impa smiled. "Yes. Feels like these days, all that I have is memories. I'd love to answer any questions."

They talked for what felt like hours, the conversation flowing freely as Zelda’s mind absorbed everything. Impa spoke about her mother- the first time Zelda had ever heard anything about her. She spoke with a quiet reverence, describing the bond the two of them shared. They were always getting into trouble together, always sneaking off to read forbidden texts or conduct research in the depths of Hyrule Castle, away from prying eyes. Zelda’s mother had been an insatiable seeker of knowledge, passionate about Sheikah lore, and Zelda had been her shadow, just as eager to explore.

Impa’s voice softened as she spoke about how everything changed after her mother’s death. “You became a different person after that,” Impa said, her eyes flickering with sorrow. “You carried it inside you- grief that never really left.” Zelda could almost feel that grief, even though she had no memories of it. “You never stopped mourning. It was like the weight of her absence pressed down on you all the time.”

Zelda sat in silence, trying to process what little she could. She could sense the heaviness in Impa’s words, the depth of the loss that had never fully healed.

Impa also talked about Zelda’s rebellious streak as a child, how she’d often sneak away from royal duties or events where people gossiped about her. “You’d find ways to get past all the stifling rules, get away from the prying eyes, the whispers of the court. Usually, you’d drag me along,” Impa said with a small, fond smile. “You’d always say you needed to get out, to breathe. And I’d follow you, even though I knew better.”

But what stood out the most to Zelda was hearing about how her mother’s death had magnified the pressure Zelda had always felt. “You were born with a crown that never felt like it fit. Even as a child, you understood the weight of it,” Impa said. “The pressure to live up to expectations, to be the perfect Princess, the perfect heir to the throne… it was too much, wasn’t it?”

Zelda nodded quietly, feeling the sting of truth in Impa’s words. She'd seen enough memories to know that was true.

Even as Impa kept on talking, weaving story after story, there was still something that Zelda’s mind kept coming back to. It gnawed at her, a quiet question, an uncertainty she couldn’t shake. As much as she wanted to dive into the past, to grasp at pieces of the person she had been, this question lingered, tugging at the edges of her thoughts, demanding attention.

"Impa," she finally interrupted. Her hands were shaking. "I have a question. And you might not know, but you're the only one who might."

She took a fortifying breath. "I'm..." She didn't know why this felt so monumental. "I'm pregnant. And I don't know how. Or, I do know  how - I guess more accurately, with whom."

Impa’s eyes widened in shock, but it didn’t last long. A flicker of understanding passed over her face, and she let out a soft breath.

“Well,” Impa muttered, shaking her head with a rueful smile, “I suppose that makes sense.”

Zelda blinked, confused. “What do you mean? You’re not… you’re not shocked?”

"I'm old. Not a lot shocks me now. Besides, I saw the way that you and Link used to look at each other and noticed how you two snuck out."

Her heart stuttered.  Link ? She had kept that open as a... a possibility. Not a given. "So you think that... me and Link..."

Impa gave her a sly smile. "All that I know is that about two weeks before your birthday, I was reassigned to be your guard- Link was still your knight, but he was no longer to accompany you everywhere, and unless it was official business related to the Calamity, you two weren't allowed alone together. And that  you  would turn all red whenever I probed as to why."

Zelda frowned. "That doesn't make sense. In one of my memories, Link and I were riding the day before my birthday."

Impa shrugged. "The King told me when he reassigned me that Link was just  so  much better than I. So really, if he tried to sneak you out, how was I to possibly stop him?"

Zelda’s frown deepened as she tried to piece everything together. “So, you knew something was going on, but you never said anything?

"All that I know is that one day you hated him, the next day you were looking at him with starry eyes. He was good for you, though. Made you more confident, less stressed out all the time, even given the circumstances."

Zelda let out a disbelieving scoff. “One minute I hated him, the next I was making eyes at him? Goddesses, I must have been  exhausting. ”

Impa smirked. “Oh, you were. Poor Link never stood a chance.”

Zelda snorted, covering her face with one hand. “No wonder he looks constantly traumatized.”

That cracked a laugh out of Impa- real, loud, and a little wheezy with age.

But even as she joked, something inside Zelda twisted, half-terrified, half-thrilled. If what Impa was saying was true… then Link wasn’t just a possibility. He was the most likely answer.

Zelda peeked out from behind her hand. “You’re sure I wasn’t just… dazzled by the sword?”

"Oh, you were clearly taken in by a sword alright," Impa responded, raising her eyebrows. 

Zelda spluttered, her face burning. “Impa!”

Impa just smirked, utterly unbothered.

Zelda buried her face in her hands again, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. “Goddesses,” she mumbled through her fingers. “You’re insufferable.”

“Getting worse with age,” Impa said cheerfully .

"Oh Hylia- I have to tell Link about this, don't I?" Now she was running her hands through her hair, glad that she hadn't styled it for the day yet. "While I am improving, I'm still horrible at talks like that."

"I could tell him for you. More than happy for another excuse to yell at him- having you gallivant all around Hyrule, while you're  pregnant  no less."

"The gallivanting is up to me entirely. If he could have his way, he'd have already confined me to Hateno, if not having me be on bedrest already."

Impa raised an eyebrow. "Don't tempt me, Princess. If I didn't have such respect for your autonomy I'd be trying to do the same."

Zelda gave her a sidelong glance, feeling a knot form in her stomach. “I’ll tell him,” she muttered, more to herself than to Impa. "Just- ugh. Why is this so  nerve-racking?  This is happy news, at least I think it's happy news . I already thought he was the father when I first told him that I was pregnant, and that reveal already went as disastrously as it possibly could; this surely couldn't end as badly."

Impa’s gaze softened as she leaned back, crossing her arms. “Zelda, it’s Link. I don’t think much is going to change. If I have to guess, he's probably already making a list of potential middle names."

"I know, I know, I don't know why I'm this anxious, I'm just scared somehow this will change things- wait, middle names? Why not first names?"

Impa waved that off. "Tradition, although you don't have to follow it. The firstborn of the Goddess's bloodline is always a girl, and she's almost always named Zelda."

Zelda's heart melted a little at that. "Does that mean my mother was named Zelda? And my grandmother?"

Impa nodded. "Yes indeed. And your great-grandmother, and your great-great-grandmother, and so on and so forth."

"Oh, that's a lovely tradition. I'm sure that Link will love it too." And then she was thinking of Link again. 

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm just going to have to rip the bandage off. Short-term pain for long-term relief, though that's a poor adage because this won't even be painful. Short-term nervousness for long-term peace? Slightly more applicable to how I'm feeling, though that sounds less wise."

Impa regarded her with a thoughtful look, then leaned back with a smirk. “If you’re worried about doing this alone, I can always come with you. My fighting days are behind me, but I have plenty of bark left in me if you need moral support.”

Zelda shook her head, offering a small, grateful smile. “No, this is mine to do.” 

Zelda gave one last glance toward Impa, her heart racing as she prepared herself for the inevitable. She… she knew how this conversation was likely to go. Logically, she knew that Link would likely be thrilled, and at the very least, he would be supportive. That didn’t stop her from feeling scared. Could pregnancy hormones make her feel nervous? She’d have to look that up.

With that thought, she grabbed a fresh outfit and ducked behind the changing screen. Her hands moved briskly, almost too fast, as if momentum could outrun her nerves.

When she stepped out again, she took one steadying breath and placed her hand on the tent’s flap.

“Here goes nothing.”

Chapter Text

Link was pacing. 

He never liked sitting still. He always liked to be doing something. That task could be silly- but as long as he had a task, he was happy. 

Waiting wasn’t a task. It was just waiting. He felt bad for making Zelda wait for him so long. Is this why Impa was so anxious to see them, because she had been like this? Then again, she had things to do while she was waiting, more than just... pacing. 

He kicked a loose stone out of his path. That occupied him for a few minutes.

Mostly, he strained his ear to see if he could hear any of their conversation, which he couldn't. That meant no yelling, at least? He hoped that Impa wasn't inundating her with history or tasks or making her feel overwhelmed in any way. 

The tent flap shifted. Link stopped pacing so fast it almost gave him whiplash. Zelda stepped out, smoothing her hands over the front of her tunic, her eyes cast down for a second longer than usual.

Something was wrong. Or- no, not wrong. She was nervous. Trying to look calm and failing.

He crossed the distance in a few long strides. “Is everything okay?” he asked quietly, searching her face. “Do I need to go argue with Impa again? You don’t have to do anything she tells you to. I'm happy to go yell at her. Or to just take you away if you want to avoid confrontation.”

Zelda blinked up at him and reached to touch his arm, light and careful. “No, no. Everything’s fine with Impa. She wasn’t harsh. She was… actually very kind.”

Link didn’t move. His brows stayed furrowed. That answer didn’t settle the knot in his chest. “Then what is it?” he asked, quieter now.

She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze dropped from his, drifting off towards the small outcropping of trees nearby. Her hand slipped from his arm. 

“Can we go for a walk?” she asked.

She stepped forward, hesitating only a second before reaching for his hand. Her fingers curled around his, soft and a little shaky.

It was also- very sweaty. 

He squeezed her hand. He would have shot her a reassuring look, but she was carefully looking everywhere except for his face. 

"Impa and I talked about many things. Mostly, she told me about the past."

Link tilted his head slightly. “Oh yeah?” he said, keeping his voice light. “Like what?”

"Growing up in the castle. I was an absolute menace. She told me about my mother, it's the first time I've truly heard about her. We got into trouble together, apparently. Hearing about her was nice, but also- oh! We should go back and ask her about your family. My apologies for not thinking of that sooner; that was extremely thoughtless of me."

She turned as if to head back toward the stable, but Link caught her wrist, gently reeling her back in.

“I don’t think she’d know much,” he said quietly. “I’ve been trying to get enough courage to ask King Dorephan if he knows anything. I spent part of my childhood in Zora’s Domain.”

Zelda stilled, her eyes flicking down to where his fingers wrapped around her wrist. She didn’t pull away.

“Oh,” she said, voice a little quieter now. “That makes sense. I hope he knows something. About your family, I mean.”

Link nodded once, but didn’t say anything else.

She shifted her weight. Her hand turned in his until their palms met. She looked at their joined hands for a second too long.

“And… she told me something else,” she added, voice barely above a whisper now. “About us.”

Link raised his eyebrows. "Us?"

"She told me... ugh, I don't know the best way to put it. She told me that she had reason to believe that we were in a relationship pre-Calamity?"

Link blinked at her curiously. "A relationship?"

Her face was red. He's not sure if it's ever been redder. "She heavily implied that we were... close. Two weeks before my birthday you got pulled from my personal guard."

Link’s eyes widened, his mind scrambling. “So, was I bad at my job? Did I… do something wrong? Was that why-”

“No,” Zelda interjected quickly, her voice soft but firm. She turned her gaze to him, searching his face. “At least, I don’t think so. She didn’t say anything about you being… bad at your job.” Her voice trailed off as she looked down, nervously fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “But she led me to believe that we were… intimately involved."

She just stared at him then, as if she was expecting him to get it. Which he wasn't, because she kept on using vague language. What the hell did 'intimately involved' even mean-

Oh.

Oh.

"So we were like. Really close," he says stupidly. 

Neither of them were looking at the other. "Yes." Zelda finally says. "And with that implication and that timing... I think that it is most likely that you are the father. Of my child, that is."

Zelda shifted nervously, looking at their hands. She hesitated before asking, her voice barely audible, “Are you pleased?”

The question hung in the air, but Link didn’t wait for any more words. Without thinking, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her toward him, pressing his lips to hers. 

There was no hesitation, no slow buildup, just his mouth crashing onto hers insistently. She let out a small, surprised noise that he swallowed hungrily, doing his best to elicit more noises from her. His hands slid down her back, urging her closer, until the very tip of their shoes was the only thing separating them. 

Her fingers twisted in the fabric at his shoulders, clutching hard as she leaned into him. The kiss didn’t slow- it deepened, sharpened. His mouth moved over hers like he’d been starved for this, like he’d spent a hundred years waiting just to taste her again.

Zelda pressed against him fully now, responding with the same urgency, her breath hitching each time he tilted his head or tightened his grip. One of his hands came up to cup her face, thumb brushing the soft skin beneath her eye before he tipped her chin just so, angling her mouth exactly where he wanted it.

He broke apart from her, breathing heavily, and she was breathing heavily too. He didn't move his hands from her face, and he looked her directly in the eyes. 

"I love you. I love you so much. I love you and I love this child regardless of if I'm the father or not." But then, he leaned up and stole another quick kiss. "But yes. I am pleased. So very very pleased."

Zelda pressed her forehead to his. “Okay,” she whispered.

Chapter Text

Zelda lay curled into his side, her head tucked beneath his chin, pressed to the warm space between his shoulder and chest. The moss beneath them was soft, the quiet rustle of the forest the only sound around them. Link’s arm rested around her back, thumb moving slowly across the fabric of her cloak.

For a while, they said nothing.

Then, softly, Zelda spoke. “Do you think we’ll be any good at it?”

Link didn’t respond right away. “At what?”

She hesitated. “Being parents."

He shifted, just enough to look down at her. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I think you will be.”

Zelda huffed a quiet laugh. “I was going to say the same about you.”

They both went still.

“I mean it,” she added, her voice a little unsteady. “You’re kind. You’re patient. You know how to make people feel safe.”

His grip around her tightened slightly.

“You’re thoughtful,” he said. “You always think ahead. You… care. So much.”

She swallowed, hiding her face further into his shoulder. “I still think you’ll be better.”

“I think we’re both going to be scared out of our minds.”

"I'm already scared out of my mind. One of my biggest priorities is to procure a book on parenting, I am confident that something like that must exist; we can't be the only ones who don't know what to do. Maybe some of the mothers of Hateno will let me observe them."

Link’s voice was quiet but certain. “See? Great parent.”

Zelda groaned softly and tilted her head back just enough to look up at him. “I’m serious. We need a plan.”

“I know,” he said. “And we’ll make one. But not right now.”

“Why not right now?”

“Because right now,” he said, gently pressing her back against his chest, “you’re warm, and you’re safe, and we’re not getting up until I’m ready.”

"Until my body demands that I move, more likely. Although currently I quite like this position."

"Tell me the second you're uncomfy and then we can move."

Zelda made a soft, amused noise. “You’ll know. I’m not subtle.”

“I’ve noticed,” he murmured, pressing his cheek lightly to the top of her head.

They fell quiet again, the kind of silence that didn’t press- just hovered gently between them, like a blanket. The breeze shifted the canopy above, and filtered light danced across the moss around them.

After a while, Zelda spoke again. “What do you think they’ll be like?”

“The baby?” he asked.

“Mhm.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “I think they’ll be stubborn.”

Zelda scoffed. “That sounds like you.”

“I was going to say it sounds like you.”

She nudged him lightly with her elbow. “Well. Then we’re doomed.”

Link huffed a quiet laugh. “And smart. Brave. A little loud, maybe.”

“Loud?” she repeated.

“In a good way.”

Zelda smiled, eyes fluttering closed again. “I hope they like books.”

“I hope they like food.”

“They’d better like horses. I’m not raising a child who doesn’t like horses.”

“They’re going to like whatever they want,” he said gently. “And we’ll love them anyway.”

"Impa says that they'll probably be a girl. The firstborn of Hylia's bloodline is always a girl. Traditionally, she's named Zelda. I like that tradition- but I'm of course willing to negotiate if you want something else."

“We’re having a girl?” Link repeated, his voice suddenly brighter- almost awed.

Zelda nodded against his chest, and when she glanced up, his eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. A slow, warm smile spread across his face, like the thought had just bloomed in full.

“A little girl,” he said again, softer this time, like he was testing the shape of the words. "And she's going to be named Zelda. A second Zelda."

"We'll need a nickname for one of us, otherwise we're going to be horribly confused."

Link kissed her cheek. "I can do nicknames."

Zelda laughed softly, and for a while, neither of them moved. But eventually, the chill of the moss and the distant sound of stable life returning called them back.

“We should go,” she murmured.

“Before Impa starts shouting,” Link added, brushing moss from her shoulder. "I've defeated Lynels- I defeated Calamity Ganon, with help of course- so why is she still so scary?"

Zelda gave a small, amused hum as she stood. “Because she’s always right. And she knows it.”

Link groaned dramatically but offered his hand to steady her. “That’s exactly what makes her dangerous.”

The sun was in the middle of the sky when they emerged, and Impa was waiting by the donkey she arrived on with her arms crossed. Impa already knew that they were together currently, she was the one who let them know what their pre-calamity relationship was like. She knew. And still, Zelda’s cheeks burned with heat as she stepped into view, Link just behind her.

"Are you leaving already?" 

Impa nodded. "They need me back at Kakariko, and my bones are old and weary. I'd just slow you down if I came along.But don't worry- I know that you'll be hanging around Hateno, so I'll know where to find you, and I'll check in frequently."

Link and Impa shot each other looks of what seemed to be pure disdain, but Zelda chose to ignore that for now. 

Zelda felt the knot in her chest tighten at the thought of Impa leaving, but she forced herself to smile. “You’ll be missed.”

Impa’s gaze softened for a moment, a rare, almost imperceptible crack in her stoic demeanor. “I’ll miss you too,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. She paused before adding, “Take care of each other.”

Zelda nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Impa in a quick, tight hug. “Safe travels,” she murmured.

Impa returned the hug. "Hurry along and find your memories, then stay in one place and take care of yourself. You hear me?" 

Zelda nodded her head. She was crying now. 

"Don't wear yourself out, and take lots of breaks. I have some ginger in my pack that will help with nausea. Be very careful when riding your horse."

Zelda gave a shaky laugh. “Between you and Link, harm would not dare to come upon me.” She pulled back slightly to meet Impa’s eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. “But I’ll play my part and do everything I can to take care of myself.”

Zelda stepped back. Impa leveled a glare at Link.

"You take care of her. Understand? Anything she needs, you get, and not a hair on her head will be harmed."

Link's face hardened, but he nodded. "Understood."

Impa studied him a moment longer, like she was still deciding whether to believe him, then gave a short grunt of approval. She turned back to Zelda just once, and though she didn’t smile, her eyes were warm.

Without another word, she hoisted herself onto the donkey’s back with practiced ease. The animal huffed and shifted under her, then began the slow walk down the path, hooves quiet on the packed dirt.

"I just barely learned something about myself. I hate goodbyes," she whispered.

Link gave her hand a small squeeze. "Not a goodbye then. Trust me, Impa's not that easy to get rid of, and she'll be checking in lots once we get to Hateno."

Zelda huffed softly, half a laugh, half a sigh. “I know. But it still feels like one.”

They stood in silence, watching as Impa’s figure grew smaller in the distance. The path curved, the trees closed in- and then she was gone.

Chapter Text

The sun was still low, casting long golden streaks across the grass, and the stable bustled with movement- travelers tightening straps, mounting horses, calling quick goodbyes. Zelda tugged her cloak tighter as she adjusted her saddlebag. Link stood beside her mare, reins in one hand, the other reaching for hers.

She gave him a small smile.

He answered by lifting her hand and brushing a kiss across her knuckles, never breaking eye contact the entire time. Zelda paused and narrowed her eyes, then dropped the saddlebag and moved in quickly to kiss him on the cheeks. She gave him a smug look. 

He paused. Looked at her. Then he was pulling her back from the horse and leaning in to kiss her full on the lips. 

It was brief- soft, sun-warmed, nothing extravagant- but it left her blinking, a little breathless.

“…Well,” she murmured.

He smiled, this time he was the smug one, then he helped her onto the mare without a word.

They set off side by side, the rhythm of hooves filling the space between them. Neither spoke much, but the silence felt companionable. He kept on glancing over at Zelda- he decided that her hair looked prettiest in the morning light, though he'd likely change his mind once he saw it differently. 

But they were approaching the bridges now, so he had to pay attention because he knew there was a hinox ahead. And sure enough, it was still there in the middle of the road, dozing away.

"What's that?" Zelda asked softly, having the sense to try to not wake it.

"Hinox. Not very hard to get rid of." He unclipped the Slate from his belt and handed it to her, then swung off from the horse. 

"Be safe," Zelda murmured. He couldn't reassuringly squeeze her hand, so instead he pressed a kiss onto her leg.

"I will be. This'll be easy."

He jogged ahead without another word, boots quiet against the packed dirt. The Hinox lay sprawled in the middle of the road, one leg bent awkwardly beneath him, arms thrown wide like he’d passed out mid-step. His mouth hung open. A low, guttural snore rose and fell in rhythm with his heaving chest.

Just a blue one. Big, yes, but not fast. Not clever. Nothing Link hadn’t dealt with before.

He veered off the path, slipping behind a rise in the land. The Hinox didn’t stir. Link pulled his sword from his back, felt the familiar weight settle into his grip.

Then he moved.

He darted forward and spun low, the blade biting deep into the creature’s side once, twice. Thick skin split open. The Hinox bellowed, flailing upright with surprising speed, but Link had already danced back out of reach.

He loosed an arrow- then another. Both slammed into the Hinox’s single eye. The beast howled, clutching at its face with massive fingers, swinging blind and wild.

Link stayed low, ducking under one slow, clumsy swipe. Another opening- he darted in again and drove his blade deep into the thigh, kicked off before the beast could fall.

The Hinox let out one last groan before toppling backwards, the ground shaking with the impact. Dust flew, then it poofed away. Thank Hylia for that, getting around its body would have been really tricky.

Link stood still for a beat, catching his breath, before turning and jogging back to Zelda. 

Zelda was already halfway off the mare by the time he reached her. Her feet hit the ground in a flurry of cloak, eyes wide as she hurried toward him.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, hands already reaching- first for his shoulders, then skimming down his arms as if expecting to find something bleeding.

“I’m fine,” he said, smiling faintly. “Didn’t even get hit.”

“But it was huge,” she said, scanning him anyway. Her fingers hovered near a scuffed patch on his tunic, then moved to his wrist, checking for anything bruised or swollen. “I mean, I know you said it wasn’t hard, but watching it swing at you-”

“I’ve fought worse,” he said gently. “A lot worse.”

“I know,” she muttered, still frowning.

He leaned forward and bumped his forehead against hers. “Really. Not even a scratch.”

She exhaled slowly, her posture easing now that she was sure. “I suppose I’ll get used to it eventually.”

“I hope not,” he said lightly. “I like being fussed over.”

Zelda drew back. "Don't give me something to fuss over just because you like it."

"I won't. I like being unnecessarily fussed over, to be more accurate, I'll give you lots of opportunity for that."

Zelda huffed- half scandalized, half flustered- and gave his shoulder a swat. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m charming,” he countered, clearly pleased with himself.

Zelda marched to her horse with an air of righteous indignation- chin high, steps sharp, every inch the offended princess. Link let her go, amused, watching as she mounted with unnecessary grace.

“You’re lucky I’m already in a good mood,” she called down, adjusting the reins. “Otherwise, I might have made you walk for that.”

“I did just clear the road for us,” he pointed out, swinging up into his own saddle.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” she said coolly. “I was there. Watching.”

He grinned as they nudged their horses forward. “Admiring?”

“Panicking,” she corrected. “Mildly.”

“I’ll take it."

They crossed the second bridge in tandem, the wood groaning faintly beneath the hooves, and something about the land felt different on the other side.

It wasn’t sudden- just a slow shift, like the air had dried out a little, like the green of the grass had faded into something more brittle and yellowed. The trees thinned. The soil paled. The ground grew rougher, scattered with tall, rust-colored stones that jutted out at strange angles, their shapes worn and hollowed by wind.

There was a stillness here- quiet, but not empty. Like the land had been waiting a long time for something.

Zelda sat up straighter in her saddle, already peering around. “It’s so different from the other landscapes we've seen!" she exclaimed. "Look at that rock- the way it seems to be stacked upon itself is fascinating. Layered would be the best way to describe it, I suppose. Oh and those trees-! They're so large."

"And a bitch to climb," he commented. "No good footholds. Never even found anything worthwhile at the top except for a good view."

Zelda gave him a scandalized look. “You climbed that ridiculous tree?”

He shrugged. “Had to see what was at the top. Turns out, nothing."

They rode in silence for a while, the landscape around them shifting subtly with the dry earth and rock formations. Zelda’seyes kept wandering to the horizon, her mind clearly active. Then, as they rounded a bend in the road, the first signs of something unexpected came into view.

“What’s that?” she asked, her voice filled with wonder.

Along the sides of the canyon was Sheikah scaffolding. He told her as much.

"But whatever was it for?"

"My guess? Trying to excavate Vah Naboris- that's the Gerudo divine beast."

Zelda’s curiosity was clearly piqued. She shifted in her saddle, trying to get a better look at the towering structures. Her body tilted to one side, her gaze locked on the scaffolding in the distance.

"That's fascinating. Look at the way that they built into the walls- how did they stabilize it? Clearly they did it well; it lasted one hundred years. They must have built directly into the walls. But what sort of materials did they use? Something sturdy no doubt, considering how windy canyons often get."

She twisted further, half-turning in the saddle, craning her neck for a better view behind them.

“Zelda,” Link said, a little more sharply than intended, “don’t twist like that.”

Zelda jolted. "Right. Apologies, got carried away. I'll be more cautious."

She was not more cautious. 

Barely a minute passed before she was leaning again, this time trying to peer up at a higher level of the scaffolding. Her hand waved vaguely in the air. “Do you think they had some kind of lift system? They must have- it would’ve been impossible to haul materials that high without pulleys, or-”

“Zelda.”

She straightened at his tone. “Yes, yes. I know. I’m upright.”

That lasted maybe five seconds. Then she was twisting around to look back at another structure they’d already passed, brows furrowed in deep thought.

He reached over and lightly touched her arm. "Do you want to take a break? You can look at these all that you want- just not while you're riding a horse."

She blinked at him, startled by the suggestion- then gave a small shake of her head. “No, it’s alright. We should keep moving.”

He hesitated. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said, with a little more insistence this time. “It’s just… fascinating, that’s all. I'll be more cautious, I promise.”

He gave her a long look, but she faced forward again, holding her posture perfectly upright, her expression calm.

So they rode on.

But she kept glancing back- subtly at first, then more often, her eyes tracking each weathered scaffold as they passed. Her mouth moved occasionally like she was working through a thought. Once or twice she murmured something under her breath, too quiet for him to catch.

Link didn’t say anything, but he kept close. This way if she toppled, there was at least a chance that she'd fall in his direction and he could catch her and not the ground. 

They crested a rise where the canyon narrowed, the walls pulling in just enough that the path felt more like a corridor than a road. And there- low and broad- was an arch of carved stone stretching from one side of the canyon to the other. Gerudo design, unmistakably. Ornate yet sturdy, etched with geometric patterns that had only just begun to fade, despite the wind and time.

Zelda’s breath caught. “Is that-?” Her head tipped back immediately. “It is. A full span. How did they even-?”

She twisted sharply in her saddle to get a better angle, practically leaning backward to trace the line of the arch with her eyes. “The engineering alone- how did they anchor it into the canyon walls? It’s so low- was it ceremonial? Structural? There must be more-”

“Zelda.”

She ignored him.

“Zelda.”

“What?” she asked, not turning around.

He reached over and touched her arm again. “You’re going to fall off your horse.”

“I’m not,” she said, annoyed.

“You are.” He slowed his horse. “We’re close. Just ride with me the rest of the way.”

She turned, reluctant. “That’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

She looked like she might argue again- but then her horse shifted under her, and she visibly startled.

Zelda sighed but dismounted, brushing dust from her pants. Link slid off his own horse and took her reins. He tied them to his saddle with a practiced knot, tightening it twice before giving both horses a brief, grounding pat.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered. "I can ride a horse."

“You’re welcome,” he said.

She ignored him and stepped up into the stirrup, swinging herself onto his horse with minimal grace. She shifted forward a bit to make room. He mounted behind her a moment later, settling the reins in his hands and adjusting their pace to accommodate both horses.

With the path narrow and the extra lead to manage, they moved slowly.

Zelda didn’t seem to mind. Almost immediately, she tilted her head back to look up at the arch as they passed beneath it.“There must be more,” she murmured. “They wouldn’t have built something like this without purpose. Maybe it marked the border of something- some trade route, or-”

She twisted again, this time toward the right wall of the canyon, eyes scanning the rock face.

Link didn’t stop her.

He didn’t have to, not with her seated snugly in front of him, his arms loosely bracketing her movements. Every time she leaned, he simply adjusted, keeping her steady without saying a word.

He loved this part of her- how quickly her mind spun, how effortlessly she thought of the things that might be buried in the stone and shadow. He just liked listening to her voice, would gladly listen to her diatribes on anything.

By the time the stable came into view, the sun had dipped lower behind the canyon walls, casting long shadows across the path. The structure was nestled where the rock gave way to flatter land again, a wide canvas tent with tall posts and a low fence enclosing the corral.

Zelda straightened slightly at the sight of it. “Oh, thank goodness. My legs were starting to fall asleep.”

Link just hummed in acknowledgement. Was this a pregnancy thing? Were leg massages a thing? He'll check to see if there's anything he can do to help after they're situated. 

They slowed to a stop just outside the stable. One of the stablehands glanced up from hauling a water bucket, gave them a nod, then disappeared behind the side tent.

Zelda swung her leg over to dismount and landed with a soft grunt, stretching her arms above her head. “That was incredible,” she said. “I wish we could’ve spent more time there.”

Link dismounted more quietly and began untying her horse from his saddle. “You almost fell off twice.”

"Almost," she reminded him primly. Link didn't want to argue this right now; he just scraped his hand through his hair, ruining his ponytail. 

She turned back toward the canyon, her voice softer. “I can’t stop thinking about that arch. It had to mean something.”

Link tied off the reins and glanced at her, a quiet breath leaving him. “I love that you see things like that,” he said. “Just… maybe don’t lean halfway off a cliff while you’re doing it.”

That earned a more genuine smile. “Fair enough.”

He stepped closer, his voice gentler now. “I just want you safe. That’s all.”

Zelda met his eyes, contrite. “I know. I’ll be more careful.”

He nodded, the tension in his shoulders finally easing.

She turned toward the stable, and he followed, both of them letting the quiet settle between them as the dust of the canyon ride drifted away behind them.

Chapter Text

Zelda hated the sun. And the sand. And maybe everything.

They were trudging through the desert to get to the Kara Kara Bazaar, and Zelda was, for the first time, regretting her big push to get all of the memories found so quickly. They were at the halfway point between the stable and the Bazaar, so no turning around, but Hylia, she wished that she could be back at the stable in the shade. 

The sand shimmered in the distance, warping the horizon. Her boots- blessedly sand-proof thanks to Link- kept the worst of it out, but they couldn’t stop the heat pressing against her like a weight. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck and pooled at her spine, making her tunic cling uncomfortably to her skin.

And the hormones. Hylia, the hormones. Progesterone, most likely. She was convinced it was the culprit behind at least half her current misery. Why did it have to wreak havoc instead of just doing its job? Still, even that felt secondary to the heat right now.

She held out her hand to Link, and Link handed her her canteen, since he was carrying all of her stuff. Even the water was hot, sloshing thickly over her tongue with a thick metallic tang. She wanted to instinctively spit it out, but she forced herself to swallow. 

“Outrageous,” she muttered, capping it again with more force than necessary. “This is supposed to be relief. Even the water is horrible."

Link opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off, voice sharper than she meant. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not in the mood.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard.

Zelda immediately regretted the snap, but her throat felt tight and her patience was threadbare. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking down at the sand. "I'm not upset at you. Moreso absolutely miserable in general."

“I get it. This is hard.”

Zelda glanced at him sideways, her lips pressed tight. “You don’t have to say it.”

“I’m saying it anyway.” He gave her the smallest smile, the kind that didn’t ask for anything in return. “We’re almost there. And you’re doing better than I would.”

She snorted, a humorless sound. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But it’s true,” he said simply. “You’re carrying more than I am.”

She stopped dead in the sand, turned to face him fully. “I’m melting- not literally- and that’s what you decide to say?”

Link blinked, caught off guard. “What? I didn’t mean-” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “I just meant… you’re going through a lot. That’s all.”

Zelda stared at him another second, then turned back around with a frustrated huff and muttered, “You’re lucky I’m too tired to yell.”

He didn’t argue. Just followed quietly, keeping a step behind her in the sand.

The silence held for a while after that- not tense anymore, just worn thin by heat and effort. Footsteps dragged. The air shimmered.

Zelda didn’t bother with conversation. She didn’t have the energy. Her legs ached. Her stomach gave another nauseating roll. The sun felt like it had teeth.

But then- finally- she saw it. The distant shimmer of blue cloth strung between posts, the glint of water tanks, the movement of people. A flicker of color against the pale sand.

The Bazaar.

She stopped walking and let out a breath that felt like it had been lodged in her chest for hours. “Oh, thank the goddesses,” she whispered.

Beside her, Link grinned. “Told you we were close.”

They stepped off the main path and into the outskirts of the oasis. The trees hit first- a cluster of tall palms casting long, blessed shadows across the sand. A few travelers lingered beneath them, fanning themselves or refilling their canteens.

Zelda made it three steps into the shade before dropping straight to the ground with a groan. She didn’t care that it was sand. She didn’t care that it clung to her sweat-damp tunic or that it got into her boots the second she shifted. She was out of the sun. That was enough.

 Link hovered beside her.

“I’m fine,” she muttered before he could speak. “Just let me melt in peace. Again, not literally, although I'm a lot closer to that point now."

Link stood beside her for a moment, looking down at where she’d sunk into the sand.

“C’mon,” he said, nodding toward the oasis buildings just ahead. “The inn’s right there. Just a little bit further before you not-literally melt.”

Zelda didn’t move. “A full pace away.”

He didn’t argue. Just stood quietly until she sighed and dropped her head back against the tree trunk behind her.

“It’s sand,” she muttered. “Why does it feel like stone?”

“You’ll be more comfortable inside.”

She groaned. “You and your logic."

Still, she didn’t move. Her limbs felt boneless, her spine useless. The only thing anchoring her was the heat, pressing down like a second, crueler gravity.

Link finally reached down and offered his hand.

“I can’t stand up,” she muttered into the folds of her tunic.

“You don’t have to. I’ll do it.”

She shot him a glare from where her cheek was half-buried in her sleeve. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

But she took his hand anyway.

He pulled her up in one smooth motion. She stumbled into him, heat-dazed and grumbling, and he caught her without comment. Once she was steady, he nudged her gently in the direction of the inn.

It took less than a minute to reach it, but it felt longer- each step dragging. And then they stepped inside.

The air changed. The sharp desert heat dropped away all at once, replaced by cool, still shade. Thick walls muffled the sound outside. A breeze, coaxed in by clever stonework and open slats, passed over her arms and neck.

Zelda stopped in the entryway, eyes closing for a moment. “I take it back,” she murmured. “This is better than melting.”

Link helped her over to a bed tucked into one of the inn’s curtained corners, and she collapsed face-first into the blankets.

Soft. Blessedly soft. She would never move again.

When she rolled onto her back with a sigh, Link was gone.

He returned a few minutes later with a clay cup dripping with condensation. He held it out without a word.

She sat up slowly and took it, fingers brushing his. The water inside was cold.

Real cold. Oasis well water, fresh and clean and merciful.

She drank it in three long gulps, then pulled the cup away with a breathless noise of relief.

Link sat on the edge of the bed, watching her with quiet amusement.

“You’re a miracle worker,” she said, voice rough.

He shrugged one shoulder. “I just know where the well is.”

Zelda leaned her head back against the pillow and let her eyes fall shut. “Don’t downplay heroism. This was life-saving.” Then, after a beat: “Wake me if I start melting again.”

Link smiled. “Not literally?”

“I'm unlikely to melt metaphorically or literally in here,” she muttered, already half-asleep. "Especially not metaphorically- me melting never was a metaphor. Hyperbole. I'm unlikely to hyperbolically melt. That also doesn't fit, but oh well."

Zelda woke slowly, blinking against the dim interior light. The soft rustle of fabric drew her attention to the side- Link was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the wall with his arms folded loosely over his knees.

She shifted, wincing as sand scraped along her spine. “Did you sleep down there?”

“Nah,” he said. “Just enjoying the cool and sitting here.”

Zelda frowned and rubbed at her eyes. “That’s not much better than you sleeping on the floor, if better at all.”

Link shrugged. “I didn’t mind.”

She sat up- and immediately regretted it. The blanket slipped off her shoulders, and a cascade of fine grit followed, clinging to her arms and settling into every crease of her clothes.

“Ugh,” she muttered. “Lying in the sand was not my best idea.”

Link stood, reaching for her empty cup. “There’s a bath stall in the back. Water’s cold, but it helps.”

Zelda swung her legs over the side of the bed, brushing sand from her tunic. “At this point, I’d settle for a bucket.”

The bath stall was small and quiet, and the water- drawn from the same cool well- was sharp against her skin. She splashed her face first, then rinsed the worst of the grit from her arms, neck, and legs. It wasn’t thorough, but it was enough. She dried off with a cloth from the wall and stepped behind the curtain to change.

“I got you something,” Link called softly from just outside the screen.

She peeked out and found him holding a folded bundle of red fabric. He was very pointedly not looking in her direction.

She raised a brow. “Thanks.” She took the bundle and stepped back behind the curtain.

It was a set of traditional Gerudo clothes. The color was a warm, bold red, and the fabric felt weightless in her hands. A loose, sleeveless top, gathered slightly under the bust; wide, slightly puffy trousers; a sash to tie it all together. It wasn't flashy, but it left her arms bare and revealed a sliver of her stomach.

Not her usual style, but she could understand and appreciate the practicality of it. In this heat, heavy fabric was a curse.

She stepped out, adjusting the sash, and Link looked up at her- and froze. His eyes flicked over the outfit once, and then he looked away quickly, a sudden, sharp flush creeping up his neck.

Zelda snorted quietly under her breath and reached for her brush. “You said this would help with the heat?”

“That’s what the merchant said,” Link replied, very focused on the far wall.

“Well, I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

She began braiding her hair, fingers moving with practiced ease. The new clothes were light and breathable. The cool water had washed off the grit. She didn’t feel entirely good, not with everything still swirling around inside her- but she felt steadier. Clearer. Like she could move again without wincing at every step.

“I feel more like myself,” she said, tying off the braid.

“Good,” Link said after a pause. “You look it.”

Zelda glanced at him, but didn’t comment. She just slung her canteen over her shoulder.

“The memory spot,” she asked. “It’s close?”

“Just beyond the ridge,” he said. “North end of the Bazaar.”

She nodded, already turning toward the door.

Outside, the desert waited. Heat shimmered at the edge of the shade, but for the first time all day, it didn’t feel like something to dread.

“Let’s go find it,” she said.

And Link followed.

The afternoon heat pressed down in slow waves, but with her new clothes and the shade of the Bazaar’s outer wall, Zelda found it more bearable than before. Still warm- still dry and heavy- but not punishing.

They didn’t head straight to the memory.

Not quite.

The Bazaar was winding down from its midday rush, and the market was quieter now. Merchants had retreated under wide canopies or behind slatted stall walls, lounging on rugs with their wares spread out before them. The scent of clay and spice hung in the air, mingled with the dusty sweetness of dried fruit and sun-warmed produce.

Zelda let herself drift, trailing just behind Link, eyes half on the stalls and half on the sky.

A vendor nearby hacked a ripe hydromelon in half, the dark green rind splitting open with a satisfying sound. The red flesh glistened in the sun.

Zelda slowed, watching the juice drip down the knife.

“After the memory,” she said aloud. “I want to try one of those.”

Link glanced back and nodded. “Deal.”

They walked in silence for a little while longer. The sun had shifted lower, spilling golden light over the stonework and casting long shadows down the market path. The edge of the oasis gleamed ahead- water still and glasslike, framed by date palms and curved walls.

Zelda slowed.

The inn rose in the distance, its shape familiar now. Stucco walls, slatted windows, the same structure they’d stepped into hours before- just seen from farther back. She remembered this view, but not just from earlier today. 

She held out her hand for the Slate and Link handed it to her. Her fingers danced along the screen until she found the memory. 

She glanced at the screen, then her location, then the screen again. She was in the right place. She studied the landscape, till she felt the memory washing over her. 

She was running. 

She had thought she could leave on her own- what a fool. Now she was going to die.

The Yiga were close. Too close. Footsteps pounded behind her, growing louder with every breath she couldn’t take fast enough. Her chest burned. Her legs wouldn’t move fast enough. She was going to die. She was actually going to die. 

She knew it was all over when they encircled her and she tripped. One of them raised their sickle. She closed her eyes; she didn't want to see it coming. 

A metallic shing sound rang out, but her neck was still attached. She was still breathing. She opened her eyes.

Link.

He glanced down at her. His eyes were a bright blue. Then he repositioned the Sword slightly in his hand.

He had saved her.

Even after everything- all her cruelties and failures- he had saved her. 

The vision faded. Zelda stood still.

The inn was just ahead, backlit by the low sun. Nothing had changed- but her heart was hammering.

She lowered the Slate and looked at Link.

He met her gaze without flinching. Like always.

“I thought I was going to die,” she said softly. “And then you were there.”

Link didn’t respond, just stepped closer.

She stared at him. “Why did you come?”

He tilted his head, like he couldn’t believe she had to ask.

And maybe she didn’t.

She stepped toward him, the Slate still in one hand. “You always do that,” she said. “Show up. Save me.”

Link gave a small, crooked smile. “It’s kind of my thing.”

Zelda huffed- half a laugh- and slipped the Slate into its holster on his waist. “You’re insufferable.”

He raised a brow. “And yet.”

She shook her head and reached for him, one hand sliding behind his neck as she pulled him in.

She didn’t roll her eyes. She didn’t laugh. She just reached for him- one hand curling into the collar of his tunic, the other slipping behind his neck as she pulled him in hard enough that their noses brushed.

The kiss was immediate. Warm. Deep.

Familiar didn’t mean soft. Her fingers slid into his hair, and he made a low sound against her mouth- half-surprised, half-gone. His hands gripped her waist, thumbs brushing bare skin where the sash had shifted.

She kissed him again- hungrier this time- and his mouth parted against hers, matching her pace, her pressure.

It only lasted a moment. Maybe two.

But when they broke apart, breath catching between them, her cheeks were flushed, and his eyes had gone dark.

She smiled, slow and smug. “Thank you.”

His voice was low. “Always.”

Chapter Text

They sat just outside the inn, tucked in a shaded corner where the sandstone met packed earth. The Bazaar behind them had gone quiet- daylight slipping west, merchants pulling tarps across their wares. A few children chased each other around the well. The breeze was dry, but gentler now. Less cruel.

Zelda leaned her head against Link’s shoulder. Her hair smelled faintly of the soap from the shower, and her new clothes rustled lightly when she shifted.

“There was a Gerudo Champion, wasn't there?” she asked, her voice low.

Link nodded. "Urbosa."

She was quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you think… I might remember her here?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't think that she spent a lot of time here. I remembered her in Gerudo town. That's a couple of miles to the north." 

Zelda didn’t answer right away. Her cheek stayed pressed to his shoulder, eyes fixed somewhere past the edge of the oasis. The sunlight had dipped enough to set the water glowing.

“So another stretch of desert,” she said finally. “And I was… I was useless out there earlier.”

“You weren’t,” Link protested.

She leaned a little more of her weight against his shoulder. “But… if there’s a chance I’ll remember Urbosa, I want to go.”

Of course she would. 

Link tilted his head, brushing against her hair. "Okay." He knows better than to argue with her. "It's not as far as it was between the stable and here, so I think if we get up early, we can avoid most of the heat."

Zelda nodded slowly. “Then we’ll go to Gerudo Town.”

Link nodded against her. “We’ll leave at dawn."

Zelda groans. "Sounds horrible."

Link opens his mouth, but Zelda stops him. "Don't. I'm pregnant and irrational. I'm allowed to complain about things that will make things better overall for something I'm insisting on."

Link just smiled. Fair enough.

The room was dim, just the first blush of dawn creeping through the slats in the wall. Link had been awake for a while, not by choice- more by lack of space.

Zelda was draped over him like a second blanket, warm and heavy with sleep. Her forehead was tucked beneath his chin, one leg hitched over his hip, her arm splayed across his chest. She was completely out. And despite the cramp in his shoulder and the way his back ached from the awkward angle, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

She was soft when she slept. Quiet. And maybe it was a bit undignified, how much he liked this.

He shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure in his spine. It didn’t help. The bed was barely wide enough for one person. Two had been optimistic. But he was small, so they made it work. Mostly.

Still- if they were going to beat the heat, they had to move.

“Zelda,” he murmured, nudging her shoulder.

She groaned immediately, muffling the sound into his chest. “No.”

“It’s early.”

“Exactly.”

Link huffed a quiet laugh and tried again, brushing her hair back from her face. “Come on. You said you wanted to go.”

She groaned louder and curled more tightly against him. 

He smiled. He didn’t blame her. But they really did have to get going. 

“You said we’d leave at dawn,” Link reminded her gently.

“This was a mistake,” she mumbled. “I hate dawn.”

“You hated the sun more yesterday.”

Zelda groaned again and peeled one eye open to glare up at him. “Stop using logic. It’s rude.”

Link grinned. “We’ll nap again when we get there.”

“I want that in writing.”

"Let me rip out a page from one of your notebooks, then sure."

That, of all things, was what got Zelda up so that she could gape at him, horrified- rip out a page? 

“That, of all things,” she said, sitting bolt upright, “was entirely uncalled for.”

Link shrugged, smug. “Got you up, didn’t it?”

“You would never,” she muttered, standing as she tried to smooth down her tunic. “You better never.”

"I'd pick a blank page."

"And would still be defacing it! I'll let you write in at the back of the old record-keeping new pregnancy notebook, but only I am allowed to rip out pages from them."

Link chuckled and reached out, gently pulling her from the bed. “Come on, time to get moving.”

Zelda grumbled but let him help her up. She shuffled to the wash stall to change while Link packed their things quietly.

She was pretty when she came out. Which made sense, she was always pretty. But she was especially pretty now. Buying her the Gerudo outfit was a mistake, except for the fact that it cooled her off so much, she looked too pretty in it. Their travel time was going to be delayed by him just looking at her. But, he can look at her at Gerudo Town, so he reluctantly tears his eyes away. 

Link cleared his throat, trying to shake off the distraction. “Breakfast on the way?” he suggested, hoping to steer both their minds back to the day ahead. "I bought some dates yesterday."

Zelda gives him a suspicious look. 

"They're sugared, don't worry," he's quick to add, and that makes her brighten up. 

Link handed her the pouch without a word. She accepted it and bit into a date as they stepped outside, and made a happy sound. 

The Bazaar was quiet in the early light, stalls still closed, the oasis casting pale reflections on the sand. The air hadn’t turned cruel yet, but it would. They both knew it.

Link adjusted the weight of both packs on his shoulders. Her bag was heavier, loaded with books and journals, but he didn’t mind the strain. He offered her one of the chilled elixirs.

Zelda took it like someone accepting a potion labeled guaranteed to taste bad.

"It's not as horrible as the spicy elixirs, but still awful. It's like mint but terrible. Figuring out how to make these more bearable is on the list of things to do once we're done traveling."

Link gave a soft huff. "I'll be your taste tester, as long as the ingredients aren't raw. Or hopping."

"Again- I merely asked you to taste the frog."

"The eating it was implied."

Zelda gave him a sharp look, eyebrows raised like she was silently daring him to say more. Without another word, she uncapped the elixir and took a small sip, her face tightening for a moment before she quickly masked it. Link followed suit, sipping carefully and letting out a barely audible shiver.

She tucked the bottle away without comment.

The sand was soft underfoot, not yet scorching. The sun hadn’t climbed high enough to make everything unbearable, and a faint breeze chased along the edges of their path. Still, Zelda tugged her headscarf a little lower over her forehead.

They walked in silence for a stretch, the only sounds their footsteps and the occasional crunch of a date between Zelda’s teeth.

Eventually, she muttered, “It is a little better this morning.”

Link looked over at her. “Yeah?”

She nodded, squinting ahead. “I still hate it. But I don’t want to crawl into the sand and die, so that’s an improvement.”

He smiled. “We’ll make good time. Just keep pace, and I’ll carry everything.”

“You already are,” she said dryly, glancing at his back. “Next you’ll be offering to carry me.”

Link didn’t respond- just raised an eyebrow.

Zelda blinked. “Don’t you dare.”

He gave the tiniest shrug, entirely unrepentant.

“You’re infuriating."

“I’m efficient.”

“Mm. Debatable.”

But she was smiling when she said it.

The desert stretched out ahead of them- miles of wind-rippled dunes and distant heat haze. Still daunting, still miserable, but for now, bearable. They walked on, the faint outline of Gerudo Town rising against the horizon like a promise.

When they reached the gates, Link stopped and glanced over at Zelda. The dry wind tugged at the loose edges of their clothing, carrying the scent of sand and stone.

“So this town,” he began carefully, “only allows women inside. Men aren’t permitted at all.”

Zelda’s eyes widened a bit. “So how do you get in?”

"Disguise myself."

"And is that allowed?"  she asked, concern flickering across her face.

“Kinda?” Link replied. “Most people here know about me. It’s understood that as long as I’m respectful to their customs, they’re willing to give me a pass. I just have to be careful not to be obvious.”

Zelda nodded slowly, considering this. “Good. I don’t want us to disrespect their culture.”

Link gave a small, reassuring smile. “Neither do I. That’s why I’m careful. The Gerudo value respect above all.”

He glanced at the edge of the town and then toward a nearby shrine. “I’ll change behind that shrine. Shouldn’t take long.”

Zelda nodded, and Link ducked behind the stone structure. The outfit was folded neatly in his pack- light, silky, comfortable. The fabric slid over his skin like water, and the veil settled softly across his nose and cheeks. He adjusted the bangles on his wrists, smoothed the fabric one last time, and stepped out.

Zelda turned- and stopped.

Her eyes dragged over him slowly. Then she whipped around so fast her scarf nearly flew off, hands flying to cover her face.

Link blinked. Then smiled. “You think I look pretty.”

She made a high, mortified noise but didn’t move her hands.

He tilted his head, adjusting one of the bangles on his wrist. “It’s fine. I am pretty.”

Zelda, still red to her ears, marched stiffly toward the gate without a word.

Chapter Text

Zelda entered Gerudo Town with her face still too warm and her thoughts far too loud.

They had gotten in without issue- Link nodded to the guards, who gave a casual wave in return- and that was that. No questions, no second glances. Just the swish of hot wind and the clink of his bangles as he fell into step beside her.

She didn’t look at him.

Because if she did, she might trip over her own feet.

His outfit really wasn't so dissimilar from her own, or anyone else's around for that matter. 

But on Link?

Pretty indeed, she scoffed to herself. 

Zelda dragged a hand over her face. The veil framed his eyes. The scarf fell just low enough to show the faint line of his stomach. The color brought out something warm in his skin. And worse, he moved like it was the most natural thing in the world- as if he hadn’t just lit her entire nervous system on fire.

She was going to combust. Right here, in the middle of the market.

Zelda forced her gaze forward and took a sharp breath. They had things to do. Important things. She was not here to focus on his stupid waist, or his arms, or the way the breeze caught the edge of his sash.

She was fine.

Everything was fine.

They moved deeper into the city.

Link walked beside her, calm as ever, eyes skimming the streets like he’d done this a dozen times before. He probably had.

“We should head to the palace,” he said, voice low. “Riju’s the ruler now. She’ll want to know we’re here.”

Zelda nodded quickly- too quickly. “Right. Of course. That makes sense.”

“And,” Link added, “if you’re going to remember Urbosa, the throne room’s probably the place it’d happen.”

Zelda latched onto that like a rope in a storm. “Yes. That. Let’s focus on that.”

Memories. Champions. Important things.

If the memory didn’t come in the throne room, they could always wander the city a bit, retrace her steps. Surely something would trigger it.

But preferably before she embarrassed herself any further.

Link adjusted the strap on his pack as they turned toward the heart of the city, the sand-brick walls of the palace rising tall and sun-warmed ahead. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Zelda was not thinking about his stomach again. She wasn’t. She had more self-control than that.

Probably.

They passed beneath the high arch into the throne room, where sunlight poured down from the open ceiling. The room was still and cool, the wide stone floor patterned with bold red and gold. The person who was presumably Riju stood at the top of the steps, flanked by guards, her arms at her sides, head held high.

Her eyes found them as they entered. “Link. And…?”

“This is Zelda,” Link said.

Riju’s expression shifted at once. Her breath caught- barely audible- but her eyes widened, and she stepped forward before catching herself.

“You’re… I mean-” she stopped, drew a breath, and tried again, steadier this time. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Zelda blinked. “Oh. Thank you.”

“I’ve heard about you,” Riju said, the words rushing out now despite her efforts to stay composed. “All my life. And I’m very glad Link found you.”

Zelda tried to hold her posture, to stay graceful- but her hands fidgeted at her sides. “That’s kind of you to say.”

Riju smiled, a little breathless still. “Of course. Welcome to Gerudo Town.”

Zelda nodded, grateful for the warmth in her voice, even if it made her a little unsteady. She followed Link further in, past the guards, past the carved columns and their shadows. The patterns on the stone felt familiar somehow- just enough to make her chest ache.

They passed the second set of pillars, then the third.

Her pace slowed.

And then- 

"Princess of Hyrule. I accept your proposition without hesitation."

Zelda had to fight a smile. She had to remain composed, at least for now. Even though Urbosa was her dearest friend to exist, and all of this pomp was truly unnecessary. 

Urbosa continued her grand speech that she clearly had prepared while Zelda fought to keep her composure. When it was time for her to respond, she had to fight to keep her voice in a grand tone to match Urbosa's. Urbosa caught her eye and winked.

Now they were walking and laughing. 

"I've never seen you quite so serious, Urbosa," Zelda laughed. 

“Oh my, I can’t say the same,” Urbosa replied. “Ten years ago, you rarely smiled, my little bird.”

Zelda blinked. Something about the name tugged at her. “Urbosa… I feel like you’ve called me that before. I was wondering where you got it from.”

But Urbosa didn’t answer. Her eyes slid past Zelda, toward two travelers lingering too long behind them.

“Halt. And face me.” Her voice turned sharp, commanding. “Unlike you traitors, I prefer to fight my enemies head-on.”

The travelers froze. Dropped their guises. Yiga.

What followed was swift. Urbosa struck with a crack of lightning, blade flashing. One fell, stunned by thunder. The other was thrown to the ground with a fierce blow. But she didn’t kill them. When they lay defeated, she only stepped over them and said, steady as ever:

“Out of respect for our princess, you may keep your lives.”

Then it was quiet again. The stillness after the storm.

Urbosa turned to Zelda, eyes soft again.

“When you were but a small child… my dear friend called you that, with the sweetest smile that ever graced our land of Hyrule.”

Zelda’s breath caught. “You mean Mother.”

Urbosa nodded. “It was ten long years ago. Your mother had just left this world. Yet her little bird still spread her wings and became the beacon of light Hyrule needed.”

Her gaze drifted somewhere far away. “Sometimes I forget myself… and get lost in the past.”

Her breath hitched- barely audible- and she swayed, just slightly.

Link caught her arm before she could stumble. His grip was steady, grounding, and he shifted a half step closer, like he could shield her without making a scene.

Riju noticed the change, her brows drawing in faint concern. “Is- are you all right?”

Zelda didn’t look at her. She gave the smallest nod, eyes fixed ahead, jaw clenched too tight to speak.

Link stepped in smoothly, his voice calm. “It’s just the heat. If you have a place we can rest-?”

“Oh! Of course.” Riju brightened a little, still puzzled but eager to help. “You’re welcome to stay in the palace. It’s much cooler inside.”

Link nodded. “Thank you.”

A guard was summoned. Zelda didn’t look up. When Link gently touched the small of her back to guide her forward, she moved stiffly, but didn’t resist.

She didn’t speak as they left the throne room.

She didn’t need to.

The room was cool, carved into the stone with long swaths of shaded silk hanging over the windows. A soft breeze stirred the gauzy curtains, and the tiled floor was blissfully cool underfoot. But none of it mattered.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Zelda sank to her knees.

Link barely had time to catch her.

She pressed her hands to her face, fingers trembling. Her breath came shallow, uneven, stuttering on the edge of something far worse.

“I- I can’t-” Her voice broke, muffled behind her palms. “I remembered her. I saw her and I can’t-”

Link knelt beside her, gently prying her hands away. Her face was streaked with tears, her whole body shaking. He caught her eyes and didn’t speak right away- just held her gaze.

“You didn’t kill her,” he said softly.

Zelda shook her head, frantic. “I brought them into this. I asked them. I said I had a plan. I said-” Her breath hitched again. “She died for me. They all did. And I couldn’t even stop it.”

Link reached out and pulled her into him.

She resisted- stiff, ashamed- but only for a moment. Then she folded, burying herself in his shoulder, sobs breaking from her in waves.

He held her tightly. One hand cradling the back of her head, the other firm against her spine. He let her cry, let her tremble, let it all crash through her- because she’d been holding it in for too long.

And when her sobs had faded to uneven, shuddering breaths, he spoke.

“I saw her,” he murmured.

"...what? How?"

"On Vah Naboris- her Divine Beast. Her spirit stayed there until I freed her, and she talked to me before she moved on. She told me to take care of you, and to tell you that you don't carry any blame in this. That it's not your fault."

Zelda shook her head, hard. “No. You don’t understand-”

“I do,” he said firmly, pulling back enough to meet her eyes. “She chose this. They all did. You didn’t force anyone. You didn’t fail anyone. She was proud of you, Zelda. She is proud of you.”

Zelda pulled back, just barely, trying to speak- but her voice broke again. “Everything’s my fault,” she whispered. “I’m the one who asked them to fight. I’m the one who failed them. I led them to their deaths, Link. I resigned them to die.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, too full of grief to hold steady.

But Link didn’t flinch. He kept his gaze locked with hers.

“No,” he said. “Ganon killed them. Not you. Don’t carry the weight of his choices.”

She made a sound- half sob, half protest- but Link shook his head.

“You asked them to fight because you believed in them. Because they were strong. And they chose to stand beside you.”

Zelda opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Just more tears.

“They followed you because they loved you,” Link said. “And they knew what it might cost. But they never blamed you. Don’t carry what was never yours to carry.”

She broke again, quieter this time. Her forehead dropped to his collarbone, her breath still shuddering, but steadier.

She didn’t respond- not out loud. But she didn’t pull away either. And something inside her, small and aching, wanted to believe him.

The guilt wasn’t gone. Not even close.

But the weight of it- just for a moment- felt a little less unbearable.

And Link just held her tighter.

Chapter Text

Morning light filtered softly through the pale curtains, casting a gentle glow across the cool stone floor. Zelda was curled on top of Link, her body warm and familiar against his. Unlike the cramped, awkward nights they’d grown used to, this bed had space- just enough for both of them to stretch without spilling over the edges.

Link’s hand rested lightly on her hip, fingertips tracing slow, lazy circles. The scent of her hair, sun-warmed and faintly scented with jasmine soap, filled the quiet room.

She shifted, a soft hum of contentment escaping her lips. The steady rise and fall of her chest was a quiet rhythm Link could have followed forever.

After a few moments, Zelda’s eyes fluttered open, and a hesitant smile tugged at her lips. "Good morning," she whispered. Link swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. Words felt useless right then, so he just nodded, unable to find a voice that sounded like himself.

Zelda lifted her head slightly and looked around the cool room. "Privacy and a nice bed? I'm not sure if I'll ever be satisfied with a stable or a tent again."

Link grunts a little, a soft smile tugging at his lips. 

“We'll be in the house in Hateno soon,” she said, eyes brightening. “Imagine waking up every morning just like this… when we finally get there.”

Link’s chest tightened with something fierce. His heart swelled, wanting nothing more than to settle down there, with her, in that quiet little house.

“And just the three of us,” Zelda added softly.

Link’s breath caught. Just the three of them. The thought melted him.

They lay still for a moment, the weight of what was coming settling between them like a promise.

Zelda shifted, nudging his side playfully.

“We already know it’s a girl. Named Zelda- after me, of course. And dozens, if not hundreds, of ancestors with the same name following a rich tradition, but mostly me,” she said with a teasing grin.

Link smiled, eyes warm. “We still need to think of a nickname. And a middle name.”

"I already have a list of potential middle names in my pregnancy notebook. You're allowed to add to it at any time, with approval from me, unless it's a name that you very much like, then you can just add it."

Of course she did. "What's on the list?" he asked. 

"Catherine, Elsie, Iris, and Christine are the forerunners currently."

“I like Catherine,” Link said, trying it out slowly. “It would sound nice with Zelda. Zelda Catherine.” He smiled to himself saying it. He already loved it.

“It does have a nice rhythm. So would Christine. I’m partial to Elsie, though,” Zelda added. “It’s sweet. A little softer.”

“Zelda Elsie,” Link repeated, tilting his head. “That one’s cute. She’d be a little troublemaker with that name.”

“She’s going to be a troublemaker no matter what we call her,” Zelda said dryly. "She's got us as parents. Especially you."

He grinned. “Fair.”

She glanced at him sideways. “You need to add something to the list.”

"Hmmm... Marin."

"I like that one. It passes, I'll write it down."

Link rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you think it’s too much with the others?”

Zelda gave him a look. “You realize she’s probably going to end up with two middle names at this rate.”

“Only two?”

“I’m being reasonable.”

He laughed under his breath. “Alright. Zelda Catherine Marin. Or Zelda Marin Elsie. Or-”

“Stop before you name the whole royal line in one go,” she said, but she was smiling.

Link reached up, brushing a stray curl from her face. “Whatever we choose, she’s going to be amazing.”

Zelda’s smile softened into a quiet certainty. “She will be. Because she’s ours.”

Zelda stretched, her fingers lightly tracing circles on Link’s arm as she began to move.

“I should get up,” she murmured, voice soft but tinged with reluctance.

Link shifted slightly, giving her room without a word.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and planted her feet on the cool stone floor. For a moment, she sat there, breathing deeply, gathering strength.

Then she tried to stand.

A sharp groan escaped her lips as her body protested the movement. She sank back down, hands pressing into the bed for support, face twisting with frustration.

“Ugh,” she said, pressing a hand to her lower back. “I’m way too sore... Pushing myself so hard with travel was probably a mistake.”

Zelda let out a breath and braced herself to try again, but Link leaned over first, his hands finding her shoulders. He began to knead gently, his thumbs pressing slow, careful circles into the tight muscles beneath her tunic.

She sighed- deep and unfiltered- and let her eyes flutter shut. “That… is wildly unfair.”

He paused. “Too much?”

“No,” she mumbled, already melting beneath his touch. “Too good. I might dissolve.”

"Pregnancy has all sorts of symptoms I've never heard of. Melting and dissolving, I didn't know that there was so much risk for falling apart."

Zelda let out a soft laugh, the sound muffled by the curve of her shoulder. “It’s not in the books,” she said. “But maybe it should be.”

Link smiled, continuing a little longer. Her muscles, tense and coiled, finally started to ease under his touch. Watching her relax felt like its own kind of reward.

As he worked, a memory came to him- something someone had mentioned once about the inn down in the city. A Gerudo masseuse. Supposed to be incredible. He’d never gone himself- just hearing the price had made him wince- but now?

“She’d probably take walk-ins,” he murmured, half to himself.

Zelda cracked an eye open. “Who would?”

“There’s a masseuse at the inn in town. Gerudo. I’ve heard she’s really good.”

Zelda shifted, turning slightly toward him. “You think she’d see me?”

“You’re the Princess of Hyrule and Savior of the land,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek, “and I’m friends with the chief of the city. I think we can work something out.”

Zelda laughed, low and hoarse. “I’ll take it.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple, then pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “We can go check it out when you’re ready.”

Her fingers found his wrist and squeezed, her smile sleepy but grateful. “Give me a few minutes to remember how to stand.”

Link chuckled and stood, stretching the last of the morning heaviness from his limbs. “Take your time. I’m going to see what food Riju had brought here to see if there's anything we can do for breakfast.”

He crossed the room, rummaging briefly through the supplies they’d brought. A few dates, a wrinkled apricot. A watermelon- Zelda had taken to those immediately after trying her first slice. He eyed the thick rind, then drew his sword, slicing clean through the fruit with practiced ease.

The sound caught Zelda’s attention. She turned her head toward him, brows raised in lazy amusement. “You’re using the Master Sword to cut fruit?”

“It works,” he said, holding up a perfect wedge.

Zelda smiled, and he brought the slice to her. She took a bite, eyes fluttering shut for a moment in quiet bliss.

“Mmm. That’s better than a massage.”

“We’ll see about that,” Link replied with a small grin.

Once she’d finished the slice, Zelda sat up more fully- still stiff, but moving with a little more ease. Link packed the rest of the watermelon and a few other bits of food into a cloth satchel.

Zelda glanced down at her sleep-wrinkled clothes and made a face. “Right. I look like I got dragged through a sandstorm backwards.”

Link snorted softly and helped her up. They moved together toward the corner where their bags were tucked. Zelda pulled out the same lightweight Gerudo outfit she’d worn the day before- flowing and soft, with loose sleeves and breathable fabric.

Link reached for his own Gerudo clothing, slipping behind a partition to dress. He loved the look of the bright fabric against his skin, even if he still needed to get a set where the top and bottom matched more.

When he emerged, Zelda was adjusting the belt of her tunic and slipping on her sandals, hair still loose around her shoulders.

“Do I look presentable?” she asked, sounding only half serious.

“You look like someone who deserves a massage,” Link said.

She smiled faintly and offered him her hand. He took it without hesitation.

The inn wasn’t far. They moved slowly, weaving through the morning crowd. Zelda clung a little tighter to his arm than usual, and Link kept his pace steady, shielding her as best he could from the jostle and glare.

When they reached the entrance, he helped her inside. The front room was dim and cool, the scent of lavender oil thick in the air. Behind a small desk stood a tall, poised Gerudo woman, her expression sharp and unreadable.

“Do you have a reservation?” she asked, voice clipped.

Zelda blinked, swaying slightly where she stood.

Link shook his head. “No. But-”

The receptionist was already reaching for a ledger. “Then I’m afraid-”

“We’re not looking for a room,” Link said quickly, gently guiding Zelda forward. “She’s sore. We heard there’s a massage service?”

“No walk-ins,” the woman replied without looking up. “Reservations are booked for the next-”

Link leaned in, his voice soft, almost too soft to hear. “I’ll pay double.”

That made her pause.

Zelda looked like she might fold in half right there on the rug.

The receptionist glanced up again. Her gaze flicked from Zelda’s face to the way she leaned on Link’s arm, then to the sheer exhaustion behind her eyes. A breath passed between them.

“…We suddenly have a gap,” the woman said smoothly, closing the ledger. “Right this way."

She glanced at Link, uncertain. He brushed her hand and murmured, “You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” she said softly. After a pause, “Will you be here when I’m done?”

Link nodded. “Right outside.”

That seemed to settle her. She gave his hand a final squeeze, then disappeared down the hall behind the receptionist.

As soon as she was gone, Link stepped back out into the street.

And turned left.

Toward the market.

There was a jewelry stall tucked near the edge of the square. He remembered it vaguely- bright cloths, hanging beads, golden sun catching on rows of rings and bangles. He hadn’t given it much thought before. But now…

Now he was here on purpose.

Not to propose. Not yet.

But the thought had been resting quietly in the back of his mind, growing heavier by the day. Zelda had already called it the three of them. Already spoken of their house. Their daughter. Their future.

He wasn’t rushing anything. He just… didn’t want to be caught unprepared.

Not if the right moment came.

And if he couldn’t make it back to Gerudo Town again for a while- then he wanted to leave with something tucked away. Something ready.

The shopkeeper spotted him before he reached the counter- Isha, was it?.

"Hello. And what can we help you with today?"

"A ring," he admitted. He was grateful for his veil suddenly, his face was very red. 

"For yourself, or...?"

"Someone else."

Isha's face split into a grin. "Lovely. Budget?"

If Link had anything to spare, it was rupees. "No budget."

Isha laughed, slapping his back. "You should not have admitted that. We're going to take horrible advantage of you."

Link shrugs. "I'll just consider it the upcharge for finding the perfect ring."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Something flower-inspired?"

"We can do flower-inspired. Any specifics for metal or gem type?"

He shakes his head. "She doesn't have any other jewelry, so I guess any metal would do? Something colorful for the gem, but also durable. Blue is her favorite color, especially sky blue."

Isha shakes her head. "You're lucky that you're rich. We have light blue sapphire, blue topaz, and aquamarine. The sapphire is the hardest and provides some heat protection, the topaz is possible to chip and has some electrical protection, and the aquamarine doesn't have any special qualities but is very pretty."

Link perks up at the mention of topaz. Pre-calamity, she loved tinkering with the ancient Sheikah tech, and she keeps on mentioning how much she wants to figure out the Sheikah Slate. Some electrical protection sounds perfect for her. 

“I’ll take the topaz,” he said.

Isha nodded. “Good choice. We can set it in gold, silver, or bronze. Which do you prefer?”

Link thought a moment. “Gold, please. Something durable and timeless.”

Isha smiled, pulling out a delicate topaz flower ring set in gold. “Beautiful.”

Link nodded, reaching for his pouch.

“Want it wrapped? Or planning to exchange it now?” Isha asked with a knowing look.

“Exchange?”

"Do Hylians not exchange jewelry? It's hard to keep track."

“As far as I know, it’s usually just the giver who gives the ring,” he replied.

“Huh. With us, it has to go both ways- any jewelry counts.”

Link’s gaze fell back to the ring. His thoughts were spinning faster now: Gerudo tradition. Jewelry. Proposal. He wasn’t ready to give it yet. Not officially. But he made a mental note- very firmly- to tread carefully.

“I’ll take a chain too,” he said, clearing his throat. “Just in case she wants to wear it around her neck.”

Isha grinned. “Smart. I’ll pick one that matches.”

She wrapped the ring and the chain in soft cloth, placing them carefully into a small pouch. Link tucked it deep into his satchel, heart beating a little faster than before.

He paid, thanked her, and stepped back out into the bright, sunlit market.

The way back to the inn felt longer now- maybe because of what he carried, or maybe because he wanted to get back to her.

When he arrived, Zelda was just stepping out through the door, her braid a little neater and her shoulders noticeably looser.

She looked up and smiled.

“Well,” she said. “That was magical.”

Link smiled, a breath of relief escaping him. “Feel better?”

“I feel like I’ve borrowed someone else’s body. One that actually works.”

He chuckled, brushing his fingers lightly against hers as she reached his side.

She leaned in slightly. “Thank you for finding this place.”

“Anytime,” he said, and meant it.

And with the quiet weight of a ring now tucked deep in his satchel, Link fell into step beside her as they made their way back through the city, the sun warm on their backs.

Chapter Text

Zelda emerged from the massage room like she was walking on air. Every muscle in her body seemed to hum with relief, loose and unburdened in a way she hadn’t felt in weeks. The soreness and stiffness that had clung to her like a shadow were gone, replaced by a deep, soothing warmth that radiated from her skin to her very bones.

She stretched instinctively, her arms reaching wide as if to gather all the calm she could hold. Each movement was effortless, fluid- like her body had finally remembered how to breathe without pain. Her breath came steady and slow, and a genuine smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Take that hormones and increased blood volume," she muttered to herself. 

As she walked down the shaded corridor, still savoring the lingering bliss, her gaze caught on a small stall tucked into a quiet corner of the inn. It was modest- just a simple cloth spread with delicate jewelry that caught the light with subtle glimmers.

Her fingers brushed over a pair of earrings- thin gold hoops set with tiny turquoise stones, crafted with the unmistakable touch of Gerudo hands. The cool blue shimmer reminded her of the desert skies, fierce and endless.

She thought of Link immediately.

A soft smile bloomed. These were for him.

Carefully, she slipped the earrings into a small pouch, her fingers lingering over the soft fabric before she turned and stepped back toward the entrance, feeling lighter than she had in days.

They walked without direction, weaving slowly through sun-drenched paths between sandstone walls and bright awnings. The heat pressed gently down, but for once, Zelda didn’t mind it. Her muscles were loose, her joints quiet. Her body- stubborn and sore for days- finally felt like it was hers again.

She caught Link glancing at her for the third time in as many minutes.

“I’m not going to tip over,” she said, amused.

He gave a small shrug, the corner of his mouth tugging up beneath the veil. “You looked half-melted earlier.”

“And now I feel amazing.” She stretched her arms overhead and let out a contented sigh. “That was heavenly. I think I transcended. I left my body. I’m never walking again- I’ll float from now on.”

Link chuckled, the sound quiet and warm, and they turned down a narrow street lined with silk stalls and spice baskets.

Then, as if remembering, Zelda slowed and reached into her satchel.

“Oh- I almost forgot,” she said. “I got something for you.”

She stopped walking and pressed a small wrapped bundle into his hand.

Link looked surprised. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

He peeled the paper back carefully. Inside were the earrings. Simple, but thoughtfully made. His fingers brushed the metal, and for a moment, he didn’t speak.

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked up at her, eyes wide.

Then he slowly reached into his satchel and pulled out a small pouch.

He opened it and held out a ring- gold, delicately shaped like a flower, with a pale blue topaz at the center. The sunlight caught on the stone, sending a soft shimmer across her skin.

Zelda’s breath caught. “Link…”

He looked at her like the world had narrowed down to just this moment. “You know what this means, right?”

She blinked, a smile tugging at her lips. Somehow, it just felt like them—both of them picking out gifts that were almost the same, yet somehow perfectly suited to the other.

Link’s eyes flicked to the earrings in his hand, then back to the ring in hers. His fingers tightened just slightly. Something flickered in his gaze—wordless, overwhelming, completely serious.

And then he kissed her.

A sudden, full sweep forward—his hand at her cheek, his mouth on hers.

Zelda gasped against it, startled, her breath catching hard in her throat. The world tilted. Her fingers clutched his shoulder on instinct, grounding herself as he kissed her like he needed it. Like he was thirsty and she was the only water he could find, like she was a storm and he was the wind carrying it. 

It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t shy. It was all heat and pressure and the press of his chest against hers, one hand cradling her jaw and the other pulling her closer by the small of her back. Her lips parted for him without thinking, and the kiss deepened- slow and consuming and dizzying.

It filled her like sunlight, a warm, thick, spreading everywhere. Her knees wobbled. Her heartbeat roared in her ears. She felt herself tipping, melting, barely able to think through how good it felt to be kissed like this, by him, here, now.

When he finally pulled away, her eyes fluttered open, dazed and wide.

“Link…” she whispered, still catching her breath. “Your veil.”

He blinked like he was waking up from a dream. The fabric had slipped down nearly to his neck. He scowled at it, cheeks flushed dark with frustration.

But before he could say a word, she took his hand.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, eyes bright. “Back to our room.”

He didn’t speak. Just nodded once- sharp and full of heat- and followed without hesitation, his fingers gripping hers tight, his gaze never leaving her as they hurried off through the sunlit streets.

They barely made it through the door before Link turned and pressed her into it, kissing her again- hard, hungry. Zelda gasped, her back hitting wood, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto as his body pressed flush against hers.

Then, with a breathless laugh, she tugged him toward the bed.

They didn’t speak.

He followed wordlessly, eyes dark and fixed on her like she was the only thing in the room that mattered. When the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, he pushed her down gently- firmly- his hands braced on either side as he leaned over her.

Zelda’s breath caught.

His weight pressed her into the blankets, mouth meeting hers again, deeper this time, slower. There was something in the way he kissed her now- something controlled but relentless, like he’d been holding this back for days and finally let himself want out loud.

His hands moved without hesitation: up her waist, along her sides, not rough, but not tentative either. He knew her. Knew what would make her arch, where her breath hitched, how to pull soft sounds from her lips without needing a word.

Zelda clutched at his back, her heartbeat thudding so hard she felt it in her throat. The heat of his body soaked into hers, grounding her, swallowing her. Her tunic had shifted- his, too- but she didn’t care. Her whole body felt hot, flushed, too full of him.

He kissed her again, longer this time, deeper, his hand cradling her jaw like she might vanish if he let go.

By the time he pulled back, her lips were swollen, her breaths uneven, her eyes dazed.

And still, he looked at her like he wanted more. Like he’d barely started.

“Link…” she whispered, voice unsteady, the room spinning just slightly beneath her.

He didn’t answer. Just brushed his thumb across her lower lip, then bent to kiss her again, slower now- possessive and tender all at once- as if he was trying to memorize the feel of her.

And goddesses, she let him.

Chapter Text

Link couldn’t stop smiling. Not that he was trying to.

The desert sun blazed overhead, the sand seal kicked up dust in steady bursts beneath them, and Zelda's arms were wrapped snugly around his waist as they glided toward the stable- but all he could think about was the earrings in his ear and the ring in her hand.

She had proposed to him.

She had looked him in the eye, smiled that stunned, radiant smile, and handed him a piece of jewelry. Gerudo jewelry. Which meant, as far as the desert was concerned, they were engaged. Actually engaged.

Fiancée.

The word kept flitting through his head like a butterfly he couldn’t catch. Zelda. His fiancée.

He could hardly believe it. The memory played again and again behind his eyes: her bright face, her hand closing around his, the casual way she’d said, “I got something for you.” Like she hadn’t just upended his entire world in the best possible way.

He adjusted the reins slightly, guiding the seal over a dune. The stable was just visible now, a soft smudge against the sand. It didn’t matter. The whole world could vanish and he wouldn’t notice. She had proposed to him.

He barely felt the heat.

His fingers brushed the earrings absently- he hadn’t taken them off since she’d given them to him. Every time he touched them, a little rush of awe surged through him. They weren’t fancy, not by Gerudo standards. But they were from her.

They were hers, and she had given them to him.

Zelda shifted behind him, her hand squeezing lightly around his middle as they hit a rough patch. He caught himself grinning again like a fool. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. Maybe she was smiling too.

The sand seal gave a low grumble as they started to slow. Link eased it toward the edge of the oasis near the stable, coasting to a stop where the ground turned more solid. The seal’s breath huffed out in great gusts, and the moment Link dismounted, he was already turning back to help her down.

“Careful,” he said, reaching for her waist.

She gave him a look- mildly amused, gently exasperated. But she didn’t pull away.

Link slipped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her close without hesitation. His head rested against her shoulder, warm and steady.

He grinned like an idiot- wide and helpless- as if his heart was trying to burst out of his chest.

He didn’t say a word. Why bother? He thought it was obvious.

They slowly made their way over to the stable, only slow because he wouldn't stop clinging onto Zelda. She had to half-drag him there. 

They barely made it to the stable before Link pulled her gently to a stop.

“We should share a horse,” he said, trying to sound casual as he adjusted his pack straps. “What if you want to write notes or something? It’s easier if you’re not busy steering.”

Zelda’s eyes flicked to him, sharp and amused. “Is that the real reason?”

Link’s cheeks flushed just a little, but he grinned. “Maybe.”

She laughed softly, stepping closer until his arms slipped fully around her waist without hesitation.

“Alright, then,” she said, “let’s ride together.”

He asked for one horse, then helped her up first, hands steady at her waist as she swung one leg over the saddle. She settled into place with practiced ease, brushing sand from her tunic. He mounted behind her in a single fluid motion, the way he always did- but this time, his arms didn’t just reach for the reins.

They wrapped around her waist.

Not tightly. Just… confidently. Like he belonged there. Like she was his, and this was normal.

Zelda glanced over her shoulder, arching a brow.

“Your hands are a little low,” she murmured, teasing.

“I’m keeping you secure,” Link replied solemnly.

She laughed. “Secure. Right.”

But she didn’t move his hands.

He pressed a quick kiss to her temple, then urged the horse forward with a gentle nudge of his heel.

The landscape shifted as they rode. The sand thinned beneath the horse’s hooves, giving way to dry grass and sun-bleached stone. Wind swept across the open plain, cooler now than it had been in the desert, tugging lightly at Zelda’s hair. The stables faded behind them, the road stretching ahead in soft curves.

For a while, they rode in silence. Link didn’t speak, and neither did she. He just held her, his head tilted forward slightly so that every now and then, his nose brushed against the back of her neck.

She sighed quietly and leaned back into him.

After a while, Zelda reached into her bag and pulled out her notebook. She opened it across her lap, flipped to a blank page, and started scribbling down a few thoughts about the ruins they’d passed on their way into the desert. Link’s arm stayed steady around her, moving only slightly to accommodate the space she needed.

“You were right,” she murmured.

“Hmm?”

“About taking notes. This is easier when you’re steering.”

“I’m always right,” Link said.

Zelda snorted. “Now you’re just getting bold.”

“Boldness is one of my many strengths.”

She shook her head and kept writing, though her lips curved.

After another few minutes, she closed the notebook and slid it back into her bag. Her hand lingered, resting over his where it wrapped across her waist. She traced a small circle on his skin with her thumb.

“You’re quiet,” she said.

“I’m happy.”

Zelda turned her head slightly to glance at him.

His smile was quiet now, softer than before but no less radiant. “Really happy,” he added.

Her expression gentled. She reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair from his face. “Me too.”

He kissed her cheek, slow and sweet.

“I could ride like this forever,” he murmured against her skin.

"Not forever, please. I have a limited amount of time until my body starts hating me for sitting like this."

Link chuckled, the sound warm against her ear. “Fair enough. A few hours, then. Maybe a day.”

Zelda let her head rest back against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded as the rhythm of the horse’s gait rocked them gently forward. “You’re not going to get bored? Just riding and holding on to me the whole time?”

“Not a chance,” he said. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

She smiled, lips twitching at the corners. “You’re unusually sentimental today.”

“I’m allowed,” he said simply. “You gave me earrings.”

“You gave me a ring.”

“Right.” His arms tightened slightly around her. “So now we’re even.”

Zelda tilted her head to glance at him again, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Even?”

Link met her gaze with a soft smile and the faintest tilt of his head. “Even-ish.”

The trail dipped slightly, the path weaving through a patch of short trees and scrubby grass. The wind changed direction, cooler here, brushing over their skin. Zelda shifted her weight a little and winced.

Link noticed instantly. “Too much?”

“I’m fine. Just stiff again,” she said, then added, dryly, “as promised.”

“Want to stop and stretch?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Only for a little bit.”

He steered them toward a low, shady rise just off the trail. As soon as the horse came to a halt, Link swung off and turned to help her down. His hands were warm at her waist again, steady and unhurried.

“Thanks,” she murmured, sliding down with a soft breath.

He didn’t let go.

Zelda blinked up at him, her hands lightly braced against his chest. “You’re still holding me.”

“I know.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I’m in love,” he said. “It’s different.”

Her breath caught at that- not in surprise, but in quiet recognition. In agreement.

She leaned up and kissed him, quick and sweet.

“Come on,” she said after a moment. “Let’s sit for a minute before I start walking like an old woman again.”

They sank into the grass beneath the patchy shade. Link sat close, thigh pressed to hers, his hand brushing gently up and down her back. Zelda leaned into him with a tired sigh, letting her eyes drift shut.

For a moment, they were silent.

Then Link murmured, “You really are okay, right?”

She nodded against him. “Just a little worn. But this…” Her fingers curled into his sleeve. “This helps.”

He smiled and rested his cheek lightly on top of her head.

Neither of them moved for a long time.

Chapter Text

The land was changing.

Slowly, steadily, the last traces of desert faded behind them, giving way to rolling plains that stretched wide beneath the open sky. Grasses swayed in the breeze, soft and green, dotted here and there with tall wildflowers- yellow, violet, and the occasional burst of red. The air felt different, cooler and less dry, and the light had softened. A more familiar kind of wilderness, and a much more tolerable one. 

Their path wound near the edge of the Great Plateau, the stone cliffs a distant wall to their left. Zelda turned slightly in the saddle to glance at it as they rode by. How did they construct the wall around it? Did they build directly into the existing shape of it? And why was that there? Exploring more around that was on the list of things to do in the future. 

Despite her craning her head, they didn't linger. They were almost at the last memory, and she didn't want to hold off any longer. One of Link's hands lingered at her waist, the other one expertly steering the horse. 

Her body ached, but what else was new. She wished that they could just take that miracle-worker masseuse with them everywhere. It wasn't a sharp pain, more like everything felt used and weary. Her lower back and thighs ached, but all in all, she was not in too bad of a shape. 

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, keeping her eyes on the path ahead.

They were heading eastward now, the twin spires of the Dueling Peaks just beginning to rise on the horizon. Their trail curved slightly south of them- Link had said the next spot would be just off the main route. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere he remembered standing alone.

The bridge ahead was made of stone- arched and solid, not decorative but still dignified in its age. Moss clung to the edges, and small tufts of wild grass had forced their way between the cracks, but its structure held strong, casting long shadows over the water flowing beneath. Once they crossed, Link continued the horse forward for a bit before turning off the path. 

"This is it?" she asked, even though she didn't need confirmation. The two small statues lined up exactly with the one from the picture from the Slate. Link nodded his head, and Zelda reached around and grabbed the Slate from his belt. 

“That’s another thing to add to the to-do list. Get me a belt so that I don’t have to keep on stealing the Slate from you.”

Link snorted softly behind her. “Pretty sure that still counts as stealing. Just with extra steps.”

Zelda didn’t turn around, but she smiled. “Then you shouldn’t leave it so conveniently placed.”

“I think you just like grabbing things off my belt. Maybe take it off the to-do list, I also like it when you grab things off my belt.”

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in his voice tugged a smile onto her face anyway. The Slate screen flickered softly in her hand as she pulled up the image again.

Two statues. The bridge in the background. She did her best to carefully angle herself. 

Everything lined up.

The rain was coming down, preventing them from traveling. She'd miss her prayers.

Link was training. She had noticed that after she started paying more attention to him, he didn't like sitting still. She watched his form as his sword swished through the rain. 

"Your path seems to mirror your father's," she commented. She remembered his father, a good soldier. "Your commitment to the training necessary to fulfill your goal is quite admirable." How wrong she was about him resting on his laurels. He worked just as hard as her, if not harder. "I can see why you would be the Chosen One."

Chosen One. How unfair.

"What if..." she started. "One day, you realized that you just weren't meant to be a fighter."

Because he didn't have a choice, did he. He was stuck in this immutable path. 

"...yet the only thing that people said was that you were born into a family of the royal guard, and so no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight."

She spoke the words that she never should have said. 

"I wonder, would you have chosen a different path?"

The memory blurred into the present. It wasn't raining anymore. She sat down on the grass, and Link joined her. She brushed her hands slightly among the dry grass. 

"What would you be now?" she asked, glancing at Link. "Now that you no longer have to be a soldier."

He seemed to take a minute to think about it. "I want to be a homebody. I want to clean the house and do laundry and cook meals and take care of you and our daughter. I really want to be a good dad."

Her chest tightened. Not in fear. Just in something quiet and warm and too large to name.

“And you?” he asked. “What would you be now that no one’s telling you that you have to be a Princess?”

"I have so much I want to do. I want to get 20 notebooks. I want to figure out how the Slate works. I want to learn how to paint. I want to refigure out not just the memories I lost but the information I have forgotten. I want to get to know more people. But I also want to be a good mother."

She leans back onto the grass, looking up at the leaves and the sky. "I'm scared that I'm going to mess things up horribly. I still feel like such a mess so often."

The breeze brushed by her face. Somewhere nearby, a bird chirped- sharp, sweet, unaware.

"I get so easily distracted. And frustrated. And I feel like often I don't know how to say the right thing. And if it was just me, that would be fine, but..." She trailed off, the words tangling in her throat before she could push them through.

Her fingers dug gently into the earth beside her, grounding herself.

“It’s not the missing memories that frighten me,” she said at last. “It’s the spaces they leave behind. The hollow places where instincts should be. I keep thinking- what if something important was there? What if it was something I needed to be a good mother?”

Her breath trembled.

"I remember my father, but only enough to show me that I don't want to be like him. I don't remember my mother at all-not her face, not her voice, I don't know anything but a small bit that Urbosa shared with me and what Impa told me.What am I to do? I can't mess this up, not like I've messed everything else up, but I'm scared I will."

Link didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he shifted beside her, lowering himself gently into the grass until he was lying next to her, shoulder to shoulder. The sky above them stretched vast and blue, feathered with wisps of white cloud. He reached for her hand, careful, deliberate, and she let him take it.

His thumb brushed along her knuckles. Then he turned, propping himself on one elbow so he could look at her fully.

"I'm scared too," he admitted. Zelda glanced at him- she didn't know that.

“But we’ve still got time to figure this out.”

His voice was quiet, almost lost in the rustling grass- but sure. Like it was a truth he had already decided to believe in, even if the rest of the world hadn’t caught up yet.

He kept her hand in his. His fingers were calloused, warm, familiar- hands that had held swords and reins and now, just as easily, held her.

“We don’t have to know everything right now,” he said. “We don’t even have to feel ready. Just… willing. To keep trying. To keep choosing each other. That’s enough for today.”

She looked at him again. The wind moved through his hair, soft and golden. His eyes, bright with something steady and quiet and deep, never left hers.

“I don’t know what kind of father I’ll be,” he murmured. “I only know I want to be there. I want to help you. I want to hold her. And you. Even when you don’t have answers. Especially then.

Link looked down at their hands, thumb brushing lightly across her skin. Then his gaze returned to hers, steady as ever.

“And for the record,” he said, quieter now, “I think you’ll be a great mother.”

A pause stretched between them- light and full.

Zelda’s lips parted, then curved. “And for the record,” she echoed, “I think you’ll be a great father.”

Something bloomed warm between them. Neither said anything more. There wasn’t anything else that needed saying.

They just lay there for a while- hands twined, eyes open to the sky, listening to the quiet hush of the wind as it passed through the grass around them.

Chapter Text

They were riding slowly now, the last light of day flickering between the trees. The path had softened into loam and shadow, the grass rising taller around them, the wind a little gentler. Dueling Peaks Stable wasn’t far.

Zelda shifted slightly in the saddle in front of him, letting out a quiet sound of discomfort as she rolled her shoulders back. Link adjusted his grip on the reins but didn’t say anything. She hadn’t complained once, but he could feel the tension in her. Her weight leaned back into him now and then, not because she was tired, he thought, but because sitting this long was wearing on her.

“Stupid ligaments,” she muttered under her breath, not loud enough for anyone but him to hear. “I swear they’re loosening just to spite me.”

He gave a small, sympathetic hum, keeping the pace slow.

After a minute, she sighed and added, “I can’t believe that’s the last of them. As un-amnesiac as I’ll get, outside of the random facts that come to me.”

Link didn’t answer.

Because it wasn’t.

Link’s grip tightened on the reins for a moment, the weight of what he was about to say settling deep in his chest. The memories they had uncovered so far- flashes of forgotten moments, fragments of who she used to be- felt like pieces of a puzzle almost complete. But not quite.

He stole a glance at Zelda, riding just ahead, her posture tired but determined. He could see the way she shifted, trying to ease the ache in her back, and it made him ache too- not just for her, but for what was still missing.

There was one memory he hadn’t shared. One he’d kept close, uncertain if the time was right.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“There’s… one more,” he said softly, voice low enough for only her to hear.

Zelda turned her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “One more?”

"Not on the Slate. Well, kind of on the Slate? It wasn't in the initial pictures that you left behind; it's from a painting from Impa that I took a picture of."

He hesitated, then added, “I thought it was better to wait. But maybe now, you should see it.”

Link adjusted his grip on the reins, eyes fixed on the dimming path ahead. The quiet between them felt thick, weighted with something unspoken.

"How far is the memory spot?" Zelda asked. That was his girl, always thinking of logistics.

"Close. It's on the way to Hateno."

"Thank the three goddesses for that, it's on the way. No more detours, especially not desert ones. I'd be very cross if we had to backtrack to there."

"It's late now, we can find it in the morning." Because he felt like he had to explain what happened in it to prepare her, and he wasn't ready for it quite yet. 

From ahead, Zelda’s slight nod came, quiet and steady. “Okay. I’ll leave it in your hands.”

Link gave a tug on the reins and pushed the horse forward.

The stable was a soft glow of lanterns and firelight in the dark, a quiet refuge nestled among the whispering grass. The scent of hay and worn leather filled the air, and the gentle sounds of horses shifting in their stalls echoed softly.

Link dismounted, then helped Zelda dismount, then went up to the Stable Master to ask for a bed and to take care of his horse. His heart melted a little when he asked for one bed, and he shared a blushing smile with Zelda. 

Back inside, Link’s fingers lingered at Zelda’s waist as she eased onto the mattress, her tired weight settling comfortably. He stayed close- maybe a little too close- his hand brushing hers as she reached for a blanket.

“You’re being clingy tonight,” she teased.

Link shrugged, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe. I just want to be near you.”

She smiled back, warmth blooming in her eyes.

He hesitated, then whispered, “Can I have a kiss?”

Zelda leaned forward and pressed a quick, light kiss to his lips.

His eyes went wide, and he gave her the most earnest puppy-dog look he could manage. Not enough... he tried to silently convey.

Zelda chuckled softly, shaking her head. “There are people around,” she murmured, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

But Link’s silent pleading didn’t waver. He stayed perfectly still, gaze fixed on her, waiting.

After a beat, Zelda sighed, the warmth in her smile deepening. “Alright,” she said, swinging her legs off the bed. “But not in here.”

She reached out and took his hand, and he rose without hesitation, heart pounding like a drum.

Outside, the night folded around them like a secret.

The stars blinked overhead, sharp and quiet, and the stable behind them faded into a blur of soft lamplight and muffled voices. Zelda’s hand was still in his, warm and sure, and when she turned to face him, her cheeks were already flushed.

She looked at him like he was the only thing in the world. He didn’t know what his own face was doing- only that his heart was too full and his chest too tight and his hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

She leaned in first. Or maybe he did. It didn’t matter.

Their lips met, and the world stilled.

He kissed her like he needed to breathe her in, like the only thing that made sense anymore was this. Her. Them.

She gasped softly, and he drank it in. Her fingers curled into the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer. He responded in kind, arms sliding around her waist and holding her like he never wanted to let go. She tasted like warmth and memory, like something he'd dreamed of before the world had gone quiet. Her breath hitched when he kissed her harder, and he felt her smile against his mouth. 

She was laughing a little, breathless between kisses, and he was smiling too, dizzy with it, like they were both too young and too old for this moment at the same time.

The wind stirred the grass around them. The stars said nothing. And Link kissed her like he meant it- like this wasn’t borrowed time, like it had always been her.

Morning came gentle and slow.

Pale light filtered through the stable’s open walls, brushing across the floorboards in soft gold. Horses stirred in their stalls, the low shuffle of hooves and snuffling breath mixing with the scent of hay and dew. Somewhere nearby, a kettle whistled, and someone laughed, muffled and distant.

Link blinked awake to the warmth of Zelda curled against his side, her hair a golden tangle on the pillow they shared. Her hand was tucked against his chest. Her breathing was even.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t want to.

Instead, he studied the curve of her cheek, the lashes that fluttered faintly in sleep, her small smattering of freckles that had grown more pronounced in their adventuring.  She looked peaceful. He hoped she felt it, too.

Eventually, her brow scrunched, and she shifted, stretching her arm and blinking slowly awake.

“Morning,” she mumbled, voice raspy with sleep.

“Morning,” he whispered back.

She blinked at him, squinting suspiciously. “You’re staring.”

“You’re pretty,” he said simply.

She rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “You’re insufferable.”

He reached to brush a bit of hair from her face. “Only a little.”

They lay like that for a bit longer, letting the rest of the stable rouse around them. Then Zelda sat up, slowly, with a groan and a stretch that made her wince.

“Ugh. Sleeping on anything but the ground should be a luxury. Why do I still feel like I got tackled?”

“Probably the saddle yesterday.”

“Probably the ligaments,” she muttered, rubbing her back. "And the horrible hormones, that just have to come with side effects in addition to their very important function of maintaining the uterine lining and increasing blood flow and relaxing connective tissue for delivery- why yes, thank you, progesterone, I appreciate the effort, but did we need the dizziness and the joint pain too?" 

Link gave a quiet laugh, then shifted upright beside her. “I don’t know what half of that meant,” he said gently, “but I still feel bad for you.”

Zelda smirked, despite the discomfort, and leaned briefly against his shoulder. “It means I’m being held together by sheer will and inconvenient biochemistry.”

“I think you’re doing amazing,” he murmured.

She turned to look at him. His voice hadn’t been teasing- just soft. Steady. Like he meant it.

Her expression eased, her hand brushing briefly against his knee. “Thanks,” she said. “I think I needed that.”

They sat in silence for a moment longer, the warm light of morning filtering in through the canvas above. Someone nearby fed the horses; someone else yawned wide enough to sound like a bear. It was morning, just like any other- but something about the quiet between them felt heavier.

Zelda glanced sideways at him. “So, you said the memory spot was on the way to Hateno?”

He nodded his head. "One more memory, then we're home."

"Home," Zelda repeated with satisfaction.

Link smiled. "Home."

Zelda got up, started gathering her things and brushing her hair and getting ready. Link helped, grabbing her bag from her and making sure all of her things were tucked away securely in it and making sure the Slate was tucked safely into his satchel. They worked in sync, like they always did now, without needing to speak.

But his chest was tight.

One more memory.

He’d said it like it was nothing. Like it was just the final note in a song, and then they’d be done. But this one- this one had always felt different.

She didn’t know. She didn’t know what had happened there, not really.

He died. 

He didn't think that Zelda knew that yet. 

He had died. He had felt his heart stop beating. But he also saw Zelda burst into the most glorious light. That made all the pain worth it. He hoped that she saw it the same way, though he had a feeling that she wouldn't. 

Zelda was still moving about the stable, retying her braid and shrugging into her cloak, humming softly under her breath. The sound was light, unbothered, like this was just any other morning. She didn’t notice the way Link’s hands had stilled.

She didn’t know what she was about to walk into.

He reached to tighten the strap on his satchel, more for something to do than out of necessity. The edges of the painting burned behind his eyes. Blatchery Plains. The broken Guardians. The way her light had swallowed everything.

He remembered the silence. Not peaceful, not soft. The kind that comes after screaming. After a body goes still.

It had felt like the end of him.

And then it hadn’t.

Zelda turned to him, brushing a bit of hay from her shoulder. “Do I look presentable enough to go have a major life revelation?”

He startled slightly, then laughed. It came out thinner than he meant it to.

Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Was that a yes?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You look good.” He hesitated. “Better than I did, that day.”

That gave her pause. Her smile faded, though not in a fearful way- just thoughtful. “You said this one’s… different.”

He nodded again.

“Is it bad?” she asked softly.

He wants to push it off just a little bit longer. Doesn't want to have this conversation in a crowded stable. Doesn't want to have this conversation at all, really, but he knows it needs to happen.

"Good and bad," he settles on. "I'll tell you about it on the way."

Zelda nodded. “Okay.”

She didn’t press. She just started pulling her boots on, calm and steady, like she didn’t feel the way the air had shifted between them. Like she didn’t notice his hands trembling.

Link turned toward the open flap of the stable. The morning was bright.

One more memory.

He wasn’t ready.

But he led the way anyway.

Chapter Text

Zelda rode ahead now, her own horse stepping carefully through the high grass. The morning sun had warmed the plain into a gentle gold, brushing the rusted husks of Guardians with light. Wildflowers bloomed where scorch marks used to be. Moss curled through cracked plating and empty eyes.

The plain was calm.

But calm wasn’t the same as peaceful.

There was something beneath the stillness here. Not menace, not anymore- but weight. Memory. It hung in the air like humidity, heavy in her lungs, clinging to her skin. Her horse shifted beneath her, ears flicking, and she reached to steady him almost without thinking.

The land felt familiar in a way that made her bones ache. Not in her mind- her mind still grasped at gaps and silences- but somewhere deeper. The rhythm of her breath. The pull of her chest. Like this place had been branded into her body.

She didn’t rush.

They pulled off the path a little while later, to a spot where the ground sloped gently toward a cluster of half-buried Guardian wreckage. One was nearly swallowed by earth and time, its plating broken wide, the inside dark and hollow. Moss covered the legs. Something small and burrowing had made its home beneath.

Zelda dismounted slowly. She didn’t know why this felt different. She just knew it did.

Link followed wordlessly, tying off his horse nearby. He didn’t speak, but he looked tired. Like he’d been carrying something too long.

She sat in the grass. Waited.

Eventually, he joined her. Crossed his legs beside her and stared out at the plain.

And still- nothing.

Zelda glanced at him, brows pinched. “You said you’d tell me.”

He nodded, eyes still on the horizon. “Yeah.”

“Is it hard to talk about?”

Link’s jaw shifted, like he wanted to answer but didn’t know how. Then- softly- he said, “It was the end. For me, I mean.”

Zelda blinked. “The end…?”

He finally looked at her. His voice was quiet. “I died. Or-I think I did.”

Her stomach dropped.

“No,” she said instinctively. “You- how- Link-”

“I remember falling,” he said. “The pain. The weight of everything. And then- nothing. Just this stillness. I think my heart stopped.”

“I saw you,” Link continued. His voice didn’t shake, but it sounded far away. “Just before it all went dark. You were… light. Blinding, brilliant light. You were crying. And then you weren’t. You were radiant. And everything else- stopped.”

"You died- you actually-"

"I came back," Link said. "You had the Sheikah take me to the Shrine of Resurrection. You saved my life."

Zelda didn’t answer right away. She was staring at him, but not like she was seeing him- more like she was trying to fit this version of him into something she understood.

He was standing here. Breathing. Steady and solid and real.

But he had died.

And she hadn’t known.

“That’s not a small thing to forget,” she said eventually, her voice strange in her own ears.

“I didn’t want you to carry it,” Link said. “Not if you didn’t have to.”

“I wish that I had known."

Link didn’t argue.

Zelda looked away, eyes trailing across the quiet ruins of Blatchery Plain. The broken Guardians. The flowers. The crickets in the grass. 

“You said I lit up,” she murmured. “What did you mean?”

Link’s gaze dropped. “You’ll see.”

She hesitated, then nodded once and pulled the Slate from his satchel.

Her fingers paused over the screen. She felt the moment shift again- like air holding its breath.

Even though the Goddess had forsaken her long ago, she prayed to her anyways. She had nothing else.

Please let Link survive this, she begged. Her own life was nothing, but Link- he had to make it through

She begged- pleaded- for Link to leave her. He could make it through on his own without her dragging him behind. He didn't respond, he just looked down at his chest.

There was a guardian beam.

She screamed, threw herself in front of him. He could not die.

And then- light.

It rose from somewhere deep within her, flooding her veins with warmth. She hardly felt herself she felt different, separate- divine. She was radiant.

When the light faded, Link was on the ground.

She fell beside him. Made useless promises about how he was going to be alright. Felt his heart stop beating and his head go limp.

She cried over him, tears falling softly onto his face, his armor, the dirt. She pressed her palms to his chest, willing him to breathe again.

Then a voice- soft, steady, not her own, not Hylia's.

All is not lost.

The sword.

Her tears stopped falling as she listened to the Sword intently, then she nodded her head. The Sheikah came, and she filled them in on the parts that they needed to play. They would not like the rest of the plan.

She knew what she needed to do.

She looked up at Link.

"You died," she whispered.

His eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. “I did.”

The weight of it settled between them, heavy but somehow not crushing. She let the words hang, as if speaking them aloud made them less sharp.

“And then you came back?" she asked, even though he had already confirmed it, even though he was here in front of her. She needed to hear it. 

"And then I came back. Because of you. Your voice was what woke me up from my restoring slumber."

Zelda swallowed hard. The tightness in her chest loosened just a little.

“So much of this- everything I’ve carried- I thought it was because I failed,” she said quietly. Her voice cracked under the weight of years spent blaming herself. “Because I wasn’t enough.”

Link’s steady eyes met hers. “You carried more than you should have. More than anyone could.”

She closed her eyes, the memories flooding back- the fallen Champions, the battles lost, the endless pressure. The blame she’d heaped on herself, over and over.

“But you… you didn’t give up on me,” she whispered, tears threatening again. “Even when I was lost.”

His hand found hers. Warm. Certain.

“You were the light I needed to come back,” he said simply.

Her tears spilled, but they no longer felt like shame. They were softer, quieter- like a release.

“For the first time, it doesn’t feel like I’m carrying this all alone,” she said, voice steadier now.

Link’s hand tightened around hers. “You never were.”

Zelda lifted her eyes to the plain stretched before them. The shattered Guardians lay quiet, half-swallowed by moss and wildflowers. Scars of old battles still marked the land, but life was growing back through the cracks.

Maybe she was like this place.

Marked and broken. But healing.

The weight inside her shifted, lighter- fragile, like new growth after a harsh winter.

“We carry it,” she said softly. “Not perfectly. Not without pain. But together.”

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the plain, and Zelda let herself breathe in the calm beneath the scars.

Maybe that was enough.

Chapter Text

Zelda didn’t look away.

Her eyes stayed on him, steady and unreadable, like she was still sorting through the shape of what she’d just remembered. He waited. Let her have the silence.

The wind moved through the grass. A cricket chirped nearby. Nothing felt urgent. Nothing demanded they rise.

Finally, Zelda turned her gaze out toward the plain again. Her hands rested loosely in her lap. “I remember how cold you were,” she said, so quietly it might have been to herself. “I kept thinking if I held on tighter, I could keep you here.”

Link’s throat tightened, but he didn’t speak.

A pause. Then, more certain: “I didn’t think the power would come. And then it did."

Zelda’s voice didn’t rise or crack. It just settled there between them, like it belonged.

Link glanced down at his hands. He remembered the light, the warmth just before the dark. The sound of her voice trembling, then strong. The way the pain gave way to stillness, and then- nothing.

Except her.

“It always lived in you,” he said quietly. “I remember thinking that I knew that you could do it before I. Well, y'know.”

She didn’t answer. But her hand drifted toward the grass, fingertips brushing his. Not quite touching.

Zelda didn’t speak again for a while.

The breeze tugged at the hem of her cloak. Somewhere far off, a bird called out and wasn’t answered. The ruins around them stayed still- bent and broken, but overgrown now. Less battlefield, more field.

Then, beside him, she moved.

She pushed her palms to the earth and rose with care, brushing stray grass from her skirt. For a moment, she stood looking out, her shadow cutting long across the sunlit moss.

And then- wordlessly- she turned back and held out her hand.

Link blinked.

She wasn’t smiling. Her face held no ceremony. But her fingers stayed outstretched between them, quiet and sure.

He took them.

Her grip was firm and warm as she helped him to his feet. She didn’t let go right away. And he didn’t ask her to.

They stood there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder. The wind stirred again. The field around them rippled like a memory- ruin and bloom woven together in the grass.

Neither of them said a word.

But that was fine. The silence held. And this time, it didn’t hurt.

They decided to share a horse on the way back to Hateno. One less for him to take care of when they got there, they'd be staying for a while, and he wanted to hold Zelda close. He tightened his arm around her waist when the wind picked up, and she leaned into him without needing to ask. 

Eventually, the path narrowed into switchbacks, and Fort Hateno and Blatchery Fields faded behind them into memory where they belonged. The sun was beginning to crest, but it shone down gently and not harshly, softened by a mild breeze. 

He focused more on Zelda than on riding. His horse was a smart fella and knew the way. Zelda leaned into him again, and he was struck by how lucky he was- that she was here, and he was here too. After everything they’d been through, the hell they’d both walked, they were together now. Scathed, but still okay. 

The road behind them was littered with ghosts; memories of fear, loss, and moments he wished he could forget and remember. But ahead lay the future. They'd have to walk this road again and again, but they didn't have to stay stuck in it; couldn't stay stuck in it for what they were going to build. The idea of staying in one place felt foreign, but also incredibly exciting. The next adventure. 

What would it mean, he wondered, to be here with her- together, but also with a future that stretched beyond memories? To share the small, everyday moments and the unknown ones yet to come.

When the village came into view, Zelda said nothing but rested her head lightly against his shoulder.

They rode in silence past the familiar buildings and turned toward the small house at the edge of the trees.

He helped her down, their hands lingering together a moment longer than necessary.

Inside, the quiet felt different- no longer empty, but full of something waiting to grow.

Zelda exhaled softly. “Let’s stay here awhile.”

Chapter Text

The house was just as they’d left it.

She realized that they had left in rather a rush and then never came back, because it was covered in a thin film of dust. They'd need to get someone to take care of the house the next time they went gallivanting across Hyrule.

She carefully stepped across the floor, breathing in the still air. It felt so pristine, like it had refused to change until its owners were back. She let out a long and steady exhale. 

Link shut the door gently behind them. The latch clicked. It sounded like coming home. Because home was wherever he was, and he was here now. 

Zelda moved up the stairs and towards the bed before either of them said anything. She toed off her boots halfway to the bed, letting them fall where they may. When she reached the mattress, she didn’t sit- she collapsed, face-first, with a muffled groan into the quilt.