Hope you all enjoy this rather cheesey bit of Zelink romance/fluff.

The Best Things In Life...

So there she is, sipping tea from a china cup, her face devoid of expression. The epitome of grace and beauty. And here am I struggling with a beaker of ale (which incidentally tastes like a mixture of drain water, pig slop and barley). I am certain I am the epitome of awkward male. I can't say that being here is my ideal choice for recreational activities on a morning off work.

She raises her eyes to be and smiles. The eye contact is pitifully brief. It is clear that she is enjoying this moment even less than I am. I should learn from her example and try not to let my distaste show. I stall the sigh that attempts to escape me and concentrate on looking around me. There is nothing of particular interest to see. The walls are still white. The tapestries are still fading. The carpet is still scarlet. And the spoons are still gold. The usual odd assortment of servants, ladies and advisers are watching us unblinkingly, we cannot escape them. Well that was entertaining. I feel her eyes are on me again so I glance up. She turns away quickly. Her face is as impassive as ever but her cheeks are slightly pinker. Clearly she is embarrassed at being in this position.

There isn't even a window to look out of in this room. Maybe if I swirl the beer around in my glass it will create a pretty pattern and it will distract me...

" Sir Link?"

I almost drop the pewter beaker in surprise. Instinctively my eyes flick up to hers. The pink stain on her cheek is more pronounced, yet her face is still so doll-like. She manages to meet my eyes for a little longer this time, but turns away quickly enough. She takes another sip of tea. I feel obliged to drink something too.

"Um...your health, Princess."

I think it is heroic of me to drink more than a mouthful of this foul concoction, although considering the quality of this particular brew, me offering it as a toast is more of an insult to her. Fortunately, she will never taste this. Princesses do not drink ale from a pewter beaker.

I cannot remember how our little tradition started. It just sort of happened. At first we would meet every six months or so to reminisce about the old times and just talk. And then somehow we decided to meet every quarter and then every month and now we meet once every week in the same place at the same time and we do the same thing. We greet each other, we ask after each other's health, and talk briefly about friends and current affairs, I get my pewter beaker of ale, she gets her elegant cup of tea and then silence reigns.

Really, why anyone thinks there is anything between us is beyond me! We are worlds apart: she is the reigning monarch, I am the lowest of the low - an orphaned goat herder (and they're not even my goats!). All right, so I might be acceptable to the higher ranks for the wealth I amassed during my travels, and we might share many interests and have a similar appreciation of the ridiculous. I would even admit that I enjoy spending time with her, even though it is often filled with awkward silences and long pauses. And there is the slightest hint of attraction between us but still...is that really enough to make me feel that it is vital come back here every week without fail? Do the things we have in common matter so much to me that I am willing to put myself on show for all Hyrule to gawp at and whisper over?

There is no doubt about it, we are on show. I am quite certain that there is an unusual amount of people in the room at the moment, the number of Zelda's attendants watching us seems to grow week by week. Pretty soon I imagine we'll have to hold our little meetings in the throne room, as we won't be able to fit in this little room. It is ironic that she is so carefully guarded now – after the war with Zant is over. She is never alone. We are never alone. In the shadows I see her personal guards watching and her counsel-appointed advisors listening and her maids waiting. All eyes are on us. I do not know how she puts up with all these eyes fixed on her all the time. It makes me uncomfortable.

"You know, we really ought to talk about something in these meetings of ours." Her soft voice interrupts my thoughts. She has her Princess face on again; an elegant mask for the world to see, I frown until I see the unmistakeable glint of amusement lurking at the back of her violet eyes.

"I fear, your highness, that I am speechless." I reply dutifully. "I just cannot concentrate in your presence."

She smiles slightly and places the cup on its saucer carefully. "That is a shame, Sir Link." She answers, her vision fixed on the contents of the cup. I suppose she is reading the leaves again. She is pretty good at things like that. She glances up at me and smiles again, "Concentration is required when one is desirous of making conversation."

"True." I reply, I feel an involuntarily smile tickling the corners of my mouth. "I am not very good at that though. I've never been a conversationalist."

"I know for that is what I enjoy most about my time with you." Is her answer. She lets the mask slip for a second. A sigh escapes her. "You do not understand, to meet with you like this is my treat to myself for surviving another week at court. I find our time together is rather peaceful and relaxing. It can be difficult to cope with the endless problems, and petitions, and grumbles and...oh...everything."

"You are a good queen." I say, hoping my words sooth her agitation. Our eyes meet for a longer pause.

"Thank you." She whispers.

"I am sincere, ma'am. You are the best Queen this country has ever had." I feel my hand resting over hers. How did that happen? I quickly move it. She blushes again and returns to her study of the dregs of her teacup. I feel rather than hear the sigh that passes through the lips of those who watch us.

She gulps and studies the dregs of her teacup again. "I am not yet a queen."

If I did not know better, I would have accused her of mumbling. Certainly it was not intended for those ears so diligently trained on our conversation. She does not meet my eyes this time but stares intently at that porcelain cup.

"But I thought..." I stall as she raises her violet eyes to mine.

"Until I marry I cannot rightfully call myself queen."

"Oh." I feel myself chewing one of my fingernails and hastily drop my hand from my mouth. Unfortunately my hand manages to land on the edge of my pewter mug and somehow I manage to flick the whole thing across the table and onto Zelda. She is drenched from her face to her waist in that vile ale. The malty stench of it fills the room. For a moment we are both silent. I hear the gasp of held breath in the shadows of the room.

"I am so sorry, Zelda." I begin, forgetting my carefully schooled manners, I unthinkingly lean forward to dab at her face with my napkin (first use I've ever found for the damned thing). She checks me by raising her hand, although I don't seem to move from my position draped half across the table. She slowly dabs her finger onto a drip of ale and carefully tastes it. Her expression is priceless. I can't help the laugh that sneaks out of me and instantly try to cover it with a cough. The way she gazes at me in innocent puzzlement only increases my desire to chuckle again.

"Link, you drink this every week, do you not?" She asks, in wonderment.

"I do."

She takes another taste of the liquid and visibly shudders. "Why?"

"Because it is what is given to me."

"I see." She smiles at me and whisks the napkin from my hands, cleaning her face before any of her maids has the chance to accost her. When she has dried her face she hands me back the towel and smiles. "You are too polite, Link." She chides me gently.

"Am I?"

"Certainly. Do you like this concoction?" She leans over the table and rests rests her hand gently on the brim of the tankard and she smiles up at me. I feel suddenly that my heart has jumped into my throat. Since when has she been so beautiful? It is all I can do to stammer out a reply but I have no idea what I have just said.

"You don't like it then?" She meets my eyes for a long moment, and I feel my face heat up. I know I am blushing. She chuckles and leans back. "What would you prefer to to drink?"

"Um..." I feel my face warming as she continues to smile up at me. I feel strange, as if suddenly we've been lifted out of the room, far beyond all those watching eyes, past all Hyrule to a place where only she and I can exist. My heart is beating quickly and my stomach is churning. And suddenly I have this feeling, it is the oddest thing but my mind suddenly becomes clear. Surely I don't...I'm not....in love with her, am I? Am I? I guess that explains why I come to the castle every week without fail even though it embarrasses me.

"Link? Are you well?" There is a depth of concern in her voice that I have never heard before and although I have been staring at her, I only now notice the frown on her face as she gazes at me.

"Uh, I'm fine." I reply, sitting back in my chair. She studies my face for a moment, frowning still and the room falls silent. Suddenly she remembers herself and sits back in her chair, coughing slightly to cover the awkward pause that follows. "Ah, where were we?" She asks, in an almost normal tone. She smiles politely at me and the mask falls back into place. She is back to being the epitome of feminine beauty. "We were talking of drinks, your highness." I remind her. The familiarity of her collected, polite act has recalled me to my surroundings and it soothes my mind.

"Oh, of course." She smiles. "And you threw your drink at me." I see the tell-tale twinkle in her violet eyes as she speaks and my heart responds anew with a pounding stronger than the time I fought against Ganondorf. This is not good at all. Perhaps I should call it a day and quit whilst I am ahead. It would never do for her to suspect that I like her in that way, although her subjects seem to view such a happening as inevitable. And if I was to tell her, it would certainly not be in so public a spot. She is watching me still, a slight smile playing on her lips. For the second time that morning, I sense her concern for me. Perhaps I am getting too caught up in my thoughts.

"Forgive me." I hear myself murmur. Oh Farore, why are you making me behave in such an awkward manner? Am I so callow a youth that I cannot speak in her company? Has the discovery of my own leaning towards her tied my tongue?

"Dear Link, I'd forgive you anything." I stiffen automatically as I feel her warm hand resting on top of mine. Surely she has not guessed already, has she? I meet her eyes without thinking and see that again the mask has slipped. The smile that graces her lips now is not the politely interested curve of lips that she usually displays, nor is it the suppressed twitch that usually indicates her secret amusement. It is a smile that she rarely shows the world and it is dazzling. Her eyes are positively dancing with so tender a light that I cannot help but smile back. I hear the collective gasp of our audience as my own hands turn so they can hold hers and the beating of my heart becomes the pounding of a drum. I would not be surprised if it was audible to other ears than mine. Her face is as red as I am sure mine is and now she has realised that quite a crowd is watching our every move with a kind of hushed excitement, the tender light falters. "Link." She whispers, staring pointedly at our hands.

I follow her gaze and it strikes me that her hands are tiny compared to mine. Again the difference between us is clearly apparent. Her hands are soft and delicate, her nails perfectly manicured, moulded from a lifetime of pampering. Mine are calloused and rough moulded by a lifetime of labour. Yet somehow they fit together perfectly. I remember now that I had wondered over the same thing on that night we fought Ganondorf together. I'd long forgotten that mystery but now I remember and I remember how I felt that night. So much happened, so much was gained, so much was lost yet through it all, Zelda stood by me though we barely knew each other. Perhaps it was that mutual sympathy and instant understanding sparked that night that has led us to this point.

She jumps slightly as I entwine her fingers with mine. I am not entirely sure what has come over me but at the same time, I am quite unconcerned with the consequences of what could happen now. Slowly I raise her milky-white hand to my mouth and I hold it against my lips. It is a simple courtly gesture, an age old token of affection and respect and yet somehow it is more. Our eyes come together once again. The mask has completely vanished leaving in its stead a vision of a wide-eyed girl who is a little shocked, but pleased (if my reading of her is correct). The pink in her cheeks is more pronounced, as is the whispering between the servants in the room. I lay her hand back on the table but don't let go. I don't want to break this connection we have and I fear that if I speak or move, it will upset this balance and the emotionless mask will return.

"So...um..." She stammers, her fingers grip mine tightly. "We were....talking....of...of..."

"Forgiving me for throwing my drink at you." I finish the sentence for her. I feel stupidly elated and recklessly confident now where as only moments ago I believed myself to be the lowest of the low. The background whisper has become more of a hum of excitement. I cannot look away from her but I knew that if I did, I would see a mass of people leaning forward, hanging on our every word. Not for the first time, I find myself wishing our audience away. Life would be so much easier if we were not on show; if she was not a Princess.

It is that thought that sticks in my mind. It chokes me and drowns my happiness with deadly efficiency. The bubble is burst and the reality of the situation, of our situation hits me. It is the first time I have properly considered this but it is perfectly clear now. It is impossible. We are impossible. Her hand, so tenderly clasping mine, suddenly becomes a burning coal. I let go and jump to my feet. "I-I have to go." I announce. I cannot bear to look her in the eye as I make my bow and practically run from the room.

Though I could not be accused of running, I am certainly walking at the fastest pace I can muster as I push past the surprised inhabitants of the castle, making my way through a jumble of corridors and doors towards my rooms. I lock the door behind me and quickly begin throwing the few belongings I brought with me into a saddlebag. My mind is screaming at me for being so foolish, and my heart is arguing with my reason. I don't know what came over me, but I am determined it will never happen again. How many times had I told myself not to get so close to her and how many times had I ignored my mind's reasoning? I am such a fool!

The knocking on my door is louder this time but I still pretend not to have heard. I am surprised she came after me so quickly. It is only when she threatens to incinerate my door that I surrender and grant her access.

She has never been in my quarters before and I see her glancing around before her eyes rest on me. Perhaps she is struck by the vast difference in our stations now. I have heard tales of the decadence of her own room, my modest quarters must look like a practical squalor to her eyes. Her tone is still angry when she addresses me. "What just happened?" She demands.

"I don't...I can't explain, princess." I reply. Even in my own ears my voice sounds pathetic. I cannot meet her eyes and I feel deflated. Her gaze scorches the top of my head and then suddenly I hear my door slam and the key grate in the lock.

"Princess!" She cannot lock herself into my room.

"Sit down, Link." She orders, patting the bed to her. She is sitting on my bed. This is not good.

"Please, Zelda! Your reputation..."

"Link. Sit down." She repeats the words firmly. It is a tone I know not to ignore so I sit myself on the very edge of the bed and give her my attention. "I am not leaving until you explain what just happened." She says. "I don't care if it takes all night, nor do I care what people think has or is happening. You are going to explain yourself to me."

"Am I?" Her authoritative tone strikes a nerve and for the first time in my life, I feel myself getting angry with her. She cannot just sit there and demand things of me! Her eyes are dark with unhidden anger.

"Why did you leave, Link?"

"I don't have to tell you anything!" Although it is exciting to actually be arguing with the queen, I can't help but think that my retort is a little childish.

"I can make you tell me anything I like." She snaps, reminding me that she can use magic after all and a simple spell to loosen ones tongue would not be beyond the range of her abilities. Her face softens as she looks at me, catching me off guard and she sighs. "I could make you tell me, but I would much rather you tell me of your own accord. Please, I just want to understand what has upset you."

I hate the way she does that! She smiles at me with such compassion that I feel the sudden urge to sweep her into an embrace. This is a day of new experiences for me. But I can't tell her how I feel even if I am getting more and more sure of it by the minute. It is not appropriate. I look away.

For a while all I hear is the steady thud of my pulse and her soft breathing. "Link, did I tell you that my council still insists upon my marriage?" She asks.

I remember we had talked of this back in the Spring. Her council, a collective of town mayors and various nobles, had asked to marry within the year so that her rule could be properly established and she could take on the title of Queen. That had been, what, nine months ago? I thought they had given up on the idea and were now working of having the law changed to allow Zelda to be coronated without being married. She has certianly not made an effort to meet any potential mates, nor have the council pressed her to do anything. I wish she had made an effort now, perhaps that would have prevented me from being stupid enough to fall in love with her. Come to think of it, wasn't it in the Spring that we began to meet on a weekly basis? Why would she do such a thing to me?

She is gazing at her hands when she next speaks and her voice is calm. "They have said that should the twelve month deadline pass, that they would have to choose me a mate. Hyrule cannot operate properly without King or Queen at her helm, our neighbours do not recognise anything other than a sovereign state. Trade is difficult to arrange when the ambassadors think of you as being powerless."

I understand the problems she faces for we have often talked about such things. I have sometimes sat with her through the difficult trade summits and have watched as some treated her as they would a helpless child. Without the title of Queen, she would not be recognised as having absolute power and whilst the attitude of these men was to be deplored, even Zelda accepted their reluctance to agree to any business. Laws in Hyrule could not be changed on the authority of a mere Princess and the people would not recognise her as anything other than a mere princess, be her works and strength ever so great, without a husband at her side. I glance at her and discover that she her attention is fixed firmly on me.

"It is also difficult running a country on your own." She admits, sighing as she does. "Although I do not like to admit it. That is why I have agreed to reduce the deadline."

"You've what?"

"Agreed to reduce the deadline." She repeats herself hastily. It is her turn to look away, blushing.

"Why would you do that? Do you have someone..." I cannot finish my sentence. The pit that has just opened up in my stomach has already consumed my heart and it sits like a lead weight belying all the happiness I felt not ten minutes ago.

"I always had somebody in mind." She replies, her voice is almost a whisper. When I glance at her again, she is picking at her perfectly manicured nails. "There is no point beating around the bush, so to speak." She continues, her voice getting faster and softer and her blush more pronounced. "So I shall just tell you. It was you."

"It was me? What?" I have the feeling I didn't hear her correctly and that my deluded mind (already shattered with the realisation that I am very much in love with the girl I had until this morning, mistakenly thought of as just a very dear friend, and that I could never in a million lifetimes have her ) had finally abandoned me.

"I...I wanted to marry you." Clearly I am hearing things. There is no other explanation, unless, of course, this is a hallucination created by my poor heart to counteract its misery. I can only stare at her. She looks real enough, I suppose, and she is gazing at me. Yet I know this is truly a dream. The Zelda I know is not a nervous creature. This version of her is. Her hands are tightly clasped together, yet they still tremble. Her smile is tumultuous and her eyes glitter with tears. This is not really happening so I guess it doesn't matter what I say or do.

"Your council would never allow that." I point out. It's not real so it doesn't matter that I snatch her hands to my chest and hold her gaze. I know I could not tell the real Princess Zelda this, but this imaginary one is fine. To her I can unburden the weight on my heart and it will heal me.

"They would." She protests, gripping my fingers tightly. I falter at this pressure, perhaps this Zelda is real after all? "Link, they would!"

"They won't sanction an alliance between us!" I argue. "How could they? We are worlds apart in terms of birth, status, wealth, manners, everything! They would rather see you eternally single than paired with a peasant like me!"

She wrinkles her nose at this, opening her mouth to interrupt me but I do not grant her the opportunity to speak. I will not waste this opportunity to unburden myself. The pressure of her fingers on mine tightens as I continue, "Zelda, no matter what I do I will never be good enough for you!" I decide. "You deserve the best things in life – be that clothes, food, friends – everything, including a mate. Clearly your council thinks so too – I mean, compare our drinks today: you sip tea in a porcelain cup, I gulp down ale in a pewter tanker. I do not need to compare myself with anybody to know that in Hyrule I am a nobody, and I am certainly not fit to ask the princess of the country to bestow upon me her hand and her heart! To do so would be to offer you an insult! Only the very best is good enough for you!"

"But you are the best thing in my life." She cries. My tirade is halted and I find myself staring at her once more.

"What...what did you say?"

She smiles at me and rests a hand against my cheek. The action sends a jolt through my entire body. There is magic in her touch. "Dear Link, you are the most glorious, beautiful, generous, kind, courageous and strong creature in the entire world and I am so blessed to have met you. If you insist that I deserve only the best things in life, then surely I deserve you for you are the most wonderful man I could ever hope to meet."

"Ze-Zelda?"

She blushes and offers me a shy smile. "The best things in life are the things that cost you nothing but give you much in return, love is the first of these and with love comes happiness, family and contentment. I want those things, not tangible objects that are meaningless vanities."

Of course, she is right. It is not the things we acquire in life that bring joy, but the things we do with our lives. If she was not a princess I would agree with her every word and I would share her dream of a life spent together, becoming a family, finding happiness and contentment in one another's company. But my objection remains. She will not be allowed to throw herself away on a man like me. When I voice these concerns she laughs.

"Link, how many members of my council did you see attending me today?" There had been an inordinate number of them there in that room but surely that was because of their desire to protect Zelda from me. "They live in daily expectation of an announcement! Why, from what they tell me, the whole country is is practically eaten up with speculation. I am certain that they would prefer to see me marry you, whom the people adore, than for some nameless prince, and besides, Hylians like to see pure-blooded Hylian heirs."

As she speaks, her confidence grows and her smile widens into almost a grin. And then she says the words that shatter my arguments and cement my belief that I have truly gone mad.

"I love you." She whispers before leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

If the touch of her hand on my face was electric, the emotion that sweeps through me now is an entirely new kind of magic. All of my objections and fears and reasons are washed away by a simple gesture leaving me with only one thought crowding my mind. The bubble of happiness has returned for a party it seems. I search her eyes for any trace of doubt, any pause but she smiles back at me with complete honesty. "I love you, Link." She repeats the words and embraces me.

It feels very strange to hold her in my arms and yet it also feels perfectly natural and the more I hold her, the more yielding and wonderful she becomes. Admitting to loving her is easier than I expected, considering I had only discovered this myself and the words trip from my tongue as happily and as frequently as my mind sings them. And when our lips meet for that first kiss, it is a truly magical experience. I cannot adequately describe how it feels, for there are no words that can explain what it is like to have your whole world explode with sheer joy, there is no way of saying how you just know at that one moment everything is perfect, and no way of understanding why it should be so.

Though I do have a feeling that the betrothal ring she is currently describing will cost me an absolute fortune, and have discovered that she intends for us to lose our single status within a month, I am convinced of one thing: I have never been happier.

It is just as she said - the best things in life are free.