Not so happy with how this turned out, I wanted it to be more poignant and lyrical than it is but never mind. I still quite like it, and hope you do too. It's a three-short-shot!

I do not own LOZ or any of its characters.

Another Story / Moving On

Part One: Ilia

I sometimes wonder if I really know the man I married. Sure, I could tell you what he looks like, how he will behave in different circumstances, and I am comfortable around him. I suppose from an outsider's viewpoint, you'd think my whims were stupid - especially if I told you I'd known him my whole life, and have been his friend for as long as I can remember. I myself am just as ready to tell the world that I love him, and I really do, but there is something that bothers me. There is something that lurks just beyond the gentleness of his smile - there's a hidden thought roving deep in his heart - a secret he can't tell anyone. A secret he won't tell me.

He's not one for light conversation. Currently he sits in his habitual silence in the bath water, humming softly as he reads the letter that came this morning. I glance over his shoulder and see it is from her. Of course it is. I knew who it'd be from when it came, before I'd even looked at the fancy seal or recognised the handwriting on the thick, cream envelope and I knew, without having to glance over his shoulder at the contents, that the letter itself will be unremarkable in content. It always is. Yet still I have this feeling, the same feeling I get every time I see her beautiful handwriting set in perfect straight lines on that creamy paper: she's Link's secret.

A wife, especially a wife that's grown up knowing and loving the man she married, may be entitled to one or two suspicions when he corresponds regularly with another woman, but when I try to view things as an outside party, I can't see any hint as to what is really going on with them.

Of course, everybody expected him to marry her when the war ended and for the two long years after he abandoned Ordon for the castle, they'd been the subject of whispered hopes and expectations that few tried to conceal. The whole town was buzzing with talk of 'The Princess and the Hero', or so Telma informed me. Much had been made of their friendship. Praise had been heaped on their heads for their joint, tireless efforts to restore Hyrule. There were rumours of her smiles that emerged only in his presence, and the way his expression softened whenever she was near. They were considered to be a perfect couple: divinely beautiful, wise and hardworking. Together they lead Hyrule forward, making our land rise from the ashes of the terrible war like a phoenix, bringing us to a new age of prosperity. But whilst those around them made idle talk, and the hopeful watched them continually, the two key players denied expectations and after two long years, Link returned home.

I'd expected to see a dramatic change in him - after all he was Hyrule's hero, the Queen's favourite and the Lord High Knight of the people. I was amazed then to see the same boy who had left all that time ago return virtually unchanged. The only thing I could see was that he had grown up. He had become a man, strong and handsome, no longer shy but unassuming and confident in himself. I was delighted to have him back, of course, but even then through my happy haze I knew see there was something wrong.

Like everyone else, I guessed that he had fallen out with the Princess but he soon belied that. When he spoke of her, even now when he speaks of her, he uses the same degree of affection that he does when he speaks of Shad, or Ashei or Renado – our other friends. And when the letters started arriving from the castle, he read them openly, often laughing at the contents and shared them with us all. She spoke of the continuing restoration work, amusing anecdotes from the servants but never once of love. She even signs her letters with 'Your Friend, Zelda Harkinia'.

I had always hoped I would marry him, but still when he asked, it was a surprise. The lack of sugary compliments and his clear distaste for wooing did not worry me. I knew my man, I knew his honesty. He asked me to take him as he was, and expressed himself in simple, gentle terms and treated me with fondness. Whilst I didn't expect fireworks from so reticent a man, I couldn't help but sigh when I didn't get them. I wondered if it was because of her but I couldn't ask. I accepted his vows of love and faithfulness, and I believe them. I just wonder if I really do have his heart. But I suppose my father is right - he is being sincere. After all, why would he trap himself in a marriage with me if he was in love with someone else?

I stand as I finish helping him bathe and can see that his mood has darkened, he seems to be leaning over the letter, peering at it intently but before I can ask him what is the matter, he seems to sense my curiosity and he blinks and looks up at me.

Even f I do have my doubts about where his heart really lies, I can't deny how much I adore him and whether he loves me or not, he is at least a good actor. He never consciously gives me reason to question him rather he takes very good care of me and treats me kindly. He places his hands on my cheeks and gently pulls me towards him so that he can kiss me.

"Thank you, Ilia." He murmurs, and casting the letter aside, he stands and reaches for his towel.

As I watch him, I feel my cheeks burning. It's been six months since our wedding and still I'm stupidly shy around him when he's naked. I can't help but stare at him and the thoughts that run through my head are more than enough to send the blush from my cheeks through my whole body. He is so very attractive. He catches me staring and flashes a grin at me.

"What?" He laughs.

"Y-you are..." I stammer and gulp. Hurriedly I shift my gaze to the relatively safer vista of the wooden ceiling and try not to concentrate on the sounds of him moving.

"I am what?"

"I-I am so blessed to h-have you..." I sigh happily and return my gaze to him. Truly I believe that I am blessed. Though I fear he has his secrets, I can't deny that he is such a good husband. He provides for me and protects me, treats me with affection and humour. I love him so much. He smiles at me and takes me in his arms (he's still soaking wet from his bath) but when I chance to look into his eyes, I can see a hint of sadness in his gaze.