So this is a gift for a friend (J T Elroy), who ships this pairing. Although, as I found out halfway through, not from this game. So it was an exercise in writing a pairing I don't ship, and in making them plausible in a game where they don't really talk or interact often enough to even be friends. So, experiment.
I also kind of agonized over their relationship, for the above-mentioned reasons. However, I thought it was pretty likely that Zelda knew more about Link and his adventures than he did about her. And then I thought that, having been pretty sheltered, it's reasonable that she would have developed hero-worship for him, and fancied herself in love. And Link feels a kind of kinship since they've been through so much, and he's curious, which is why he hangs around a lot. He's also curious why Zelda is avoiding him, so he tries to provoke her into talking, the sneaky bastard. So, there's not a lot of basis for a relationship there, but that's the way it is.
Finally, this is unbeta'ed, since it is a surprise gift for my beta. All mistakes are therefore mine.
1. In the end of the beginning of Zelda's reign, the evil power Ganondorf is dead by a hero more boy than man and a powerless princess ascends to the throne on shaking legs.
2. It is a struggle to get up every day, awakened by the sun—so unfamiliar to her now and painful to eyes grown sensitive from permanent twilight—and roused by responsibility. My people, my people need me, my people need me because my father is dead and there is no one else becomes her constant mantra, repeated under her breath when she feels about to collapse under her duty. Most of the castle is fine, no sign of the evil that occupied it, but the throne room—the main hall—is one of the most poignant casualties of the battle against Gannondorf. Zelda issues orders that no one is to enter it until she has had time to assess the harm, so she is alone when she first pushes open heavy wood doors to the room that will always hold the memory of her father.
Her footsteps echo off the cold stone, the sound seeming jagged where it bounces off the broken statues. Zelda wanders up to the stone faces she remembers spending hours staring at in her childhood. Is this the way our destinies were to play out? she asks sorrowfully. Was such destruction really in the plan for our lives? Visions of her father falling before Zant, choosing death over subservience, and she can't imagine that the Goddesses would be so cruel. Their stone faces are impassive as she breaks down in front of them, bearing silent witness to the crumbling of a woman who has so much and so little left. Afterwards, when she has scrubbed away the tears and put both herself and her role back in order, she arranges for the repairs to be made—the room will not be the same as before, because she is not her father, but it will be similar enough to remind her of him and his courage.
Zelda tours Castle Town while the main hall of the castle is being repaired, reassuring people who will never know the extent of the danger they were in. They do their best to console her, primarily about her father—she receives more condolences than she feels capable of dealing with—but they also congratulate her on so successfully steering the kingdom free of any danger. She envies their ignorance, wonders if it would have been better to be unknowing of the myriad of ways she failed her people, failed before she even started. Would Link still have succeeded if I had chosen differently at the beginning? Would Midna have been enough to guide him? The questions plague her as she sits in her chair at the end of every long day, staring at the fire. Would I still have given my heart away to a phantom hero?
3. Link comes back to the castle, and Zelda wants to refuse to see him. She doesn't, because they still have so much between them—the well-being of a kingdom is a strong thing to bind people together. He requests an official audience with her, but seeks her out in the gardens the day before he's scheduled. She supposes it was a vain—and cowardly—hope that he would not be able to sneak past the guards. She indulges in a brief fantasy where she doesn't have to face him, not when he will never be hers.
"Did you enjoy being back in your village? That's what you fought for, isn't it?" she asks carefully, tending to some roses, running her fingers over the silky petals. Even now, having fought and defeated Zant, Gannondorf, and so many lesser evils, they don't really know each other. She knows that he is noble and kind—Telma had responded to discreet inquiries with enough stories to cement that opinion. She also knows that he is willing to do anything that is right, no matter the personal cost. And she knows that he is in love with Midna. She doesn't know what he knows about her. Zelda doesn't look at him, preferring to study the petals in front of her. Perhaps she should use them in her next speech to her people—imagery never goes amiss with them.
"What we fought for. And no, not just that. We fought for the world, remember?" he replies quietly, but intensely. She can imagine what his eyes look like even without seeing them.
"I remember. It is my intention to knight you tomorrow morning. I assume you won't take umbrage?" she says as she turns around to face him. His face is still gentle, though older than when she first saw him. There's strength in the set of his eyebrows and mouth, and ferocity in his eyes, as she remembered. Blue-eyed beast indeed, she thinks absently. But the spirits weren't talking about the wolf—in his human form Link is more a beast than ever. "The people are looking for the hero that rescued them, though they know not the extent of the peril they were in. Presenting you will reassure them and give them cause to celebrate," she continues in the same even tone. It is a diplomatically-sound move, and her reasons aren't diplomatic in the slightest.
"I wasn't the only hero," he comments modestly, noble enough not to take credit for deeds in which others had a part.
"I have no wish to take credit, Link. I am a warrior princess no longer, and Midna—" Link flinches and Zelda has to call on all her training to keep her face calm, "—is a secret better kept between us. The Twilight was never meant to be widespread knowledge, even if our lives were meant to intersect."
"I miss her," he admits, eyes fixed on Zelda's. I am not strong enough for this, she thinks, pained.
"She is worthy of being missed," she comments enigmatically, fighting the urge to ask him, would you miss me? The swallowed words are bitter on her tongue as she walks back inside.
4. The day of Link's official audience, it seems as though the entire kingdom crams itself within the main hall: men standing proudly to bear witness, women clutching flowers or hankies, children running around excitedly with sticky mouths and candy grasped tightly in pudgy hands. Link walks solemnly up to the throne, though he pauses to smile at a group of people she assumes are from his village. She gives the speech the people gathered expect her to, speaking of heroes arising from the people, and courage coming from within. She does not speak about impossible choices or unbearable personal sacrifice or feeling crushed under too much responsibility. What most of her subjects know is the period of terror, when their princess wasn't there for them, trapped in her tower. They remember the beasts that stalked in the light that never resolved itself into either day or night, and they remember being picked off one by one. They feel the same hope they felt as rumors of a hero vanquishing the evil settled over the kingdom reached their ears.
Zelda concludes with remarks about honoring bravery and the importance of coming together as a people to withstand adversity. It is a speech she doesn't mean a word of, but she delivers it with the utmost sincerity. The crowd cheers then, and the women throw their flowers before the feet of their hero and their princess. Zelda steps forward, unsheathing the same blade she had thought to fight Zant with lifetimes ago. For a moment she feels her fingers tremble, and she thinks it will fall from her hand in a cruel parody of the past, but she regains control. Link looks up, catching her eyes and offering the same soft smile he'd offered his friends—somehow still innocent and warm. She tries to smile but it feels broken, so she speaks instead.
"Because of your bravery in defending Hyrule and her people, I dub thee Sir Link, of Ordon Village. Will you vow to further protect your kingdom in times of need, at any risk to yourself?"
"I vow to do so," Link says clearly. The smile is gone from his face. Zelda marvels at how quickly he can change from the boy to the hero, like sun breaking through clouds only to disappear after the barest flash.
"Then arise a knight of the kingdom of Hyrule, and face your people," she announces with a gesture. Link gets to his feet with a fighter's grace and turns to face them. She can sense his hesitation at what to do next so she takes a step forward.
"Bow," she whispers in his ear. The intimacy of the action strikes at her stomach and she quickly steps back into place. She barely hears the cheers or the 'long live the Queen' choruses that follow, and she makes her exit as soon as is polite.
5. Link gets a room in Castle Town, as befits a knight of the crown. He begins leading patrols of guards every day, making sure to eradicate the last of the evil left behind by Zant. With the same single-mindedness he'd displayed in everything else, Link slowly makes all the roads of the kingdom safe for travel. Zelda hears thanks from many people, and even more requests to speak to her gallant knight. She fends off both advances with an official smile, but cannot prevent a more personal and genuine smile from taking its place when she's in private. Her kingdom is coming together into the place she's always seen in her dreams, helped along not a little by a young man with a free smile and ferocity in his eyes.
A few weeks later, the roads are safe enough that Link retreats back to Castle Town and leave the everyday escorts to the guard. What he takes to doing, Zelda doesn't know, but he manages to find her every day at sunset. At first she doesn't speak and he simply stands there in silence, watching out the window as she finishes the last of her duties. He's gone again by the time the servants come in to light the candles.
One night, she's unusually frustrated, and before she knows it, she's spoken to him. He listens patiently, but doesn't offer advice or an answer. When she's calmed down, he tells her what he's done that day, and the things he's seen. He elaborates on the beauty of the day and downplays the violence, though she knows he must have encountered some beasts on the road to Kakariko village. He stays later than usual, and when he does leave, he has a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.
The nights after that one, they talk more and more, gradually branching from safe subjects into more tenuous ones, like their childhoods, his adventures, and finally, Midna. She learns a lot about him, and tells a lot about herself, but talking about Midna still makes her feel sick. It is the only thing remaining from how she felt about Link just after the defeat of Gannondorf. Now her feelings are deeper, both more serene and more passionate, nearly euphoric in his presence and despondent in his absence. This, she thinks, is what real love must feel like.
6. Zelda feels it as things in the kingdom change. People forget what it was like to live in terror of an evil they couldn't see, and instead turn their minds to the everyday tasks. It's been almost a year, and finally the stain of evil is bleached from the kingdom. But not, she is finding out, from the hearts of those involved. She wonders if she will ever be free from the shiver of cold fear that strikes just as twilight sets in, or dreams of failure and death. Link never says anything, but she can see in his eyes the cost of being a hero, of being more than a man. It is a cost both of them would pay over again gladly, but they didn't know then how long-lasting the effects would be. She feels older than her years, drained more by the normality than the adversity, but she thinks she is a good queen—unremarkable, perhaps, despite all her efforts, but good enough. And as long as Link is by her side, even just as a friend, she can continue to rule. Zelda's serenity is her greatest ally, and she would do nothing to jeopardize it.
Link, in a move characteristic of him, shatters her tranquil life by kissing her directly as daylight leeches out of the world. It is fitting, Zelda thinks, that her life both fell apart and came together at twilight. Link probably planned it that way, she decides. He smiles at her, the same smile reserved for others he cares about.
"I know you're content with the way things are," he says mildly, brushing some hair back from her face, "but I couldn't wait forever for you to decide to act, and I knew things could get better."
"And how did you know that," she replies, a little teasingly.
"Because you love me," Link counters softly. The surety in his words knocks the air from Zelda's chest. "And I love you." Zelda reels further, leaning against him. She isn't quite sure how to deal with the amount of shear happiness welling up from her stomach.
"It won't be perfect, Link," she sighs, incapable of his optimism even in this.
"But it'll be as close as possible," he persists. And Zelda, unable to deny him anything, gives in.
"As close as possible," she agrees, and leans up to kiss him again.
A/N: I debated a lot about whether to kind of gloss over the knighting speech, 'cause it was just so awkward. I dunno. I think I did okay, so I left it in. Ugh.
And sorry for the totally cliche ending. I know it's bad, but I've been working on this for so long, and I am so sick of having it on my computer. Also, the fic is really about their relationship growing, and less about the being together part.