Piety
"Do you remember me?"
Link had no answer for that question. Because in that moment, seeing her with the blood and muck from that awful day one hundred years ago still staining her dress, his memories of her overwhelmed him. Everything from his first glimpse of her as she watched him training with his father in the soldiers' courtyard to those last minutes when she gathered him into her arms and her precious tears dripped onto his face flashed through his mind like the images of a Sheikah slate. A simple yes could not encompass everything he felt in the moment, and yet a million words wouldn't do his emotions justice.
So instead, Link did what he did best. He moved.
She stood four steps from him. He covered the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms. She let out a watery sounding laugh and wiggled far enough away to snake her arms between them until she could return his hug. "I'll take that as a yes, then," she murmured, tightening her hold around his chest. He responded by burying his face in the crook between her neck and collarbone and inhaling deeply. She was here. She was safe. He knew that for her, the separation felt much longer as she had remained conscious during his long sleep and memory loss, but still. All the remembered months apart stung.
She allowed him to hold her for long moments, both occasionally tightening and loosening their grips as though reassuring themselves of the other's presence. But finally, Zelda slid her hands from his shoulder blades to his chest and gently pushed him back. She didn't move him far; she stayed close enough to lift her hand and place her palm on his cheek. "Look at you," she whispered, taking him in. "The image of you dying in my arms has haunted me so. And yet here you are, safe and sound."
He lifted his own hand to catch hers against his face, taking comfort in the ever soft touch of her skin. "And you," he said, finally speaking to her. "You are just as lovely as ever."
His comment made her laugh a bit, and lightened the mood as she dragged her hand out from under his to brush at her dress. "I suppose you meant that as a compliment," she said, taking in her ragged appearance. "Or perhaps you didn't. One never knows with you. But either way, I will be much relieved once I am out of this cursed dress." She shot him one of her breathtaking smiles. "Wouldn't you agree?"
He answered by dragging her back into his arms.
They agreed, once they'd finally mustered the will to separate once again, that rest and food were in order for the both of them. Link whistled for Epona and lifted Zelda up into the saddle before climbing up behind her. To his surprise, she didn't complain that he hadn't allowed her to climb up herself. "Honestly," she said, reading his expression as he wrapped a spare blanket around her shoulders, "I don't think I've ever been this tired in my entire life. If you didn't have a horse, I might have made you carry me."
Sure enough, during the half days ride to Riverside Stable, she dozed off in his arms. Though he would have enjoyed hearing her voice carrying on and on to fill the silence like old times, he found the feel of her body against his an acceptable trade.
He nudged her once the stable came into view, and it took long moments for her eyes to open. Even then, he had to gently shake her to keep them from closing again.
"That's new, isn't it?" she said, voice bemused and sleepy as the stable drew near. "This wasn't here before."
Her statement made him frown as one of Ember's stable hands ran out to lead them in, aware now that traveling for her would be quite a bit different than traveling for him. His memory loss had spared him from too much attachment to the ruin of his home, but for her, it could be devastating. As the boy led Epona over to where Ember had just vaulted over the counter, he vowed to spare her as much as he could, at least for a little while.
Link dismounted first, but before he could turn and help Zelda, Ember had his arm clasped between his hands. "We are relieved to see you, Link," the man said, a fervent gleam in his eye. "Most of us had counted you for dead when you left us last."
Link shrugged. Obviously he'd survived. He turned just in time to catch Zelda as she stumbled when her feet hit the ground. She frowned at him, but he ignored that and slipped his arm under hers, just in case her knees buckled again. Ember took her in, torn dress and all, and Link could practically see the connections in his brain fire. "My lady," he said, with a slight bow. "Are you alright?"
"I am well, thank you" Zelda answered. "But I'm afraid I am in terrible need of a bath and fresh clothing. Would you be so kind as to allow me to infringe on your hospitality?"
"Please," he answered. "Follow me."
Inside, Ember's wife took one look at Zelda before her eyes widened to the size of tea saucers. "My goodness," she breathed, curtsying to his Princess. "My lady, are you alright?"
Zelda smiled. "Your husband asked the same question. I am quite well, thank you. I appreciate the concern of you and your husband, but all that I need right now is a bath."
"Oh, of course. Right this way, my lady. As long as you don't mind me acting as your maid?"
Zelda laughed then, a practiced sound to Link's ear, meant to put the woman at ease. "I won't mind one bit. I think you'll find I am not at all picky when it comes to such things."
The woman nodded, and ventured a smile of her own. "Will you please follow me then?" she said, bobbing another clumsy curtesy. Zelda nodded, but then bit her lip. She turned to look at Link, her grip on his arm tightening. He met her gaze, keeping his expression even, despite the fact that he didn't want her out of his sight either. Still, whatever she saw in his face seemed to satisfy her, as she relaxed her hold, arms trailing down to her sides.
He watched her until she disappeared into the family quarters, and only when the door shut did he turn his attention to Ember. "Is that who I think it is?" Ember asked, still eyeing the closed door.
"It is," Link answered. "And Hyrule Castle is well on its way to being safe again."
"Goddesses," the man swore, rubbing at his face. "After all these years." He dragged his hand down to his chin, considering. "We don't have any private beds except for mine and Lea's. Will our room be suitable for her?"
"She won't want a private room," Link said. "She won't," he repeated, at Ember's aghast expression. "I'd like an extra soft bed for her if you have one available, but she'll want to be treated just like everyone else."
"I can't possibly allow—"
"That is her way," Link interrupted, his stern tone allowing no room for argument. This was, after all, the princess who once tried to convince him to break the lock on a stable door for her, solely so they could sleep in the hayloft rather than disturb the farm's occupants.
But Ember disagreed anyway. "Sir, I cannot allow this. She is our princess, our queen!" Link noted the volume of his voice and swept his eyes over the common room, where the other patrons were perking up and turning to listen. So much for anonymity then. "My grandfather promised me this day would come, and here it is. She must be treated with the respect due—"
"You may offer her your respects by giving her what she wants. She does not appreciate special treatment."
Ember held his tongue this time, but Link could see the hint of mutiny in his eyes. "If you want to do something for her, then you can take care of something for me," he said, relenting. "I've got a white horse boarded over at Outskirt Stable. I'd like for it to be brought over here for her."
The task appeased the man, or at least distracted him, as he led Link over to his counter so he could fill out a request to send to Outskirt. "So you'll be back?" Ember asked.
"Eventually. We're off for Hateno in the morning, to allow her time and space to rest. After that, I am at her command."
"Very good, very good," Ember said, rubbing his hands together as Link signed and sealed the missive. "Please assure her Majesty that we are hers to command as well."
Link nodded, fighting back the temptation to roll his eyes. He appreciated the loyalty, but Zelda was not yet in a position to truly accept any oaths. They'd just barely destroyed Ganon, and yet here was a Hylian already dreaming of his kingdom's returned glory. There would be others, and they'd lay all the pressure of those hopes on one person's shoulders.
Frankly, he wasn't ready to share her again. Not yet. And with that in mind, he chose a seat far from the whispering patrons at the dinner table.
When Zelda returned, she looked much more relaxed. The dress was gone, replaced by homespun leggings and a linen tunic dyed green. "His wife is very kind," she told Link, joining him at the table. "She insisted on giving me clothing; she wouldn't even listen when I offered to pay. I had her burn the dress. I told her I'd toss it in the fire myself if necessary, but I kept the jewelry. I suppose I need something to prove my legitimacy, and the bracelets were a royal treasure."
"I don't think you'll have any trouble in that regard," Link said, inclining his head to the other side of the table. Zelda glanced over and sighed as she saw the sudden frenzy of bows and bobbing heads. "Please," she said, voice pitched to carry through the pavilion. "Be at ease. We are all guests here, including me. It would please me greatly to not cause a disturbance."
She nodded to accept the vocalized cries of support and then turned her face back to Link. He shifted his chair to partially block her from view. The other people were still hissing frantic comments at one another, some rude enough to point in their direction, but the behavior wasn't obnoxious enough to warrant removing Zelda from the room. "That didn't take long, did it?" she said, leaning close. "I'm surprised. Belief in my eternal fight does press against reason."
"I'm not," Link said, but did not elaborate. Later he'd tell her of the rumors whispered in the back rooms of the taverns, of the number of knights that threw their lives away to save her, of the legend that continued to grow and grow the longer she was trapped. But tonight, he wanted to shield her from that legacy. She'd lived enough with expectations before; he wanted to spare her more for at least a little longer.
He ordered her simple food and milk to help her sleep. She ate the meal without complaint and was nodding off against his shoulder by the end of it. "I'm so sorry, Link," she murmured as he helped her stand. "I'm just so tired."
"You fought him for a century, Zelda. I just took him on for one day. You have reason to be tired."
"I suppose," she said, eyeing her bed in the corner longingly. "Will you be close?"
"I'll be in the bed right beside you."
"Alright," she said, and then conscious of the other patrons eyeing them, fled to the privacy of her bed and its surrounding curtain.
Notes
Finally crossposting this from Ao3, second installment is almost ready to go. Figured some extra love from over here might encourage me to get a wiggle on and get it done! ;) So make an author happy! Click on that review button!
Hope you enjoyed!
SJ