"Respite" (Legend of Zelda, Link/Zelda, #8)
Title: "Respite"
By: Jadealiya
Pairing: Link/Zelda
Fandom: Legend of Zelda
Theme: 30kisses #8 Our own world
Timeline: Original/Unknown
Disclaimer: Nintendo's characters, written neither for profit nor gain
Many thanks to Keiran and Starya
A Day:
Everything is smoke and blood and the nauseating aura of dark magic.
You don't know how long you've been running, or how far from home the magic has taken you.
You don't know how you ever would have escaped without him.
All you know is that you have failed and your kingdom is in flames and the way back is barred.
When you see the lights flickering, welcoming candles, you weep from relief and exhaustion and end up collapsing into his arms on the inn floor, trying to forget.
The locals mutter their sympathy, though they have never heard of Hyrule and the dark sorcerer's war.
His arms tighten around you, a simple comfort and a startling liberty. His voice is soft, for you alone, when he speaks:
"I promise, Princess, we'll find a way to be happy here…"
A Week:
You don't know anything. The village girls cook and sew and clean, chattering like birds, glancing at you sideways as you struggle with a simple hem.
Your mother never taught you to wash bedding or dress a hen. Your mother never allowed you to gossip with your age-mates. Your mother taught you to run a kingdom.
He fares much better. When you aren't around, you know the girls' chirping falls to him. Tall and handsome and handy in the fields and with the animals…such a catch! He'll make some girl a fine husband.
Pity he seems so attached to a girl who will never make a good wife.
You prick your finger for the hundredth time and are near to tears. It is with only the greatest of restraint that you keep from screaming:
"I will never be happy here!"
A Month:
The common room echoes with their shouting. A foolish dispute, two neighbors claiming an adjoining field, waving land deeds and other documents around as if they were the fans feeding their tempers.
You leave your baking (let the bread burn – it always does) and grab the papers, ignoring their incredulous stares.
You walk both men through the ancient agreement, quoting common land laws with the same ease most demonstrate listing their children's names. You find the error; one man's papers reflect the laws set in this generation, the other papers are older. They listen, slowly getting over the fact that you have only seen eighteen summers and are dusted with flour.
When they leave, neither is completely satisfied, but the shouting has stopped and an agreement has been reached.
The next day, it is the mayor armed with a crate of tax records and a list of questions that greets you at the small inn. When your hero returns from his daily battle with plow and herd, you and the mayor are excitedly discussing your new responsibilities as his aid and the allure of setting up a proper school and library for the good of the village.
When the mayor leaves, your hero comments on how little you've smiled since arriving here, his own grin lighting up the room.
You laugh and impulsively hug him, speaking as you do:
"Perhaps I will be happy here."
A Year:
Your school is closed today, but far from empty. The village girls fuss around you, pinning up your hair and brushing imaged dust from the dress you made yourself (with a great deal of patient guidance…). You giggle at their innuendos, thank them for their help, squeal with them in anticipation of the day to come.
When you walk outside, they lead the way, littering your path with wildflowers.
When they part before you and you see him waiting, blushing, you begin to question everything you ever assumed about the priorities of your life and the shape of your fate.
And when the mayor speaks the words making everything official and your love leans down to kiss you, you are sure you have found the true meaning of destiny. It has nothing to do with the will of the Goddesses and their golden triangles; it has nothing to do with a kingdom rich in magic; it has nothing to do with a dark and evil sorcerer who seeks your power and your head.
It has everything to do with his smile.
And as he regretfully breaks off the kiss, as the villagers cheer for you both, he whispers what is in both your hearts:
"Well Princess, I am very happy here."
A Year and a Day:
They come at nightfall.
Smoke and blood and the nauseating aura of dark magic, joined by your former guards twisted into servants of darkness, shouting to the town to hand over the renegade Princess.
He is quick to drag out the trunk that holds the trappings of a previous life, a previous fate. His back is to you as he fastens on his gauntlets. He doesn't see you pick up his shield.
You wince at the sound of the metal hitting his head, his head hitting the floor. You add to the unholy harmony as the shield slips out of your numb hands. It was never supposed to be like this.
They were never supposed to find you.
A faint sound, breaking glass – you watch as a long slumbering fairy awakens and springs to the air, ready to revive her fallen master. You speak to her softly, in the old tongue, begging her to wait until you are gone.
You step over his form, reaching the door. You are confident they do not know he is here, or who he is. In that, there is hope.
You pray your flight will lead them away from the village.
You glance back, nearly overwhelmed. When you leave, you will cease to be his wife and return to being his Princess. Return to the destiny you had abandoned, left with just the fragile memory of what your world could be if only…if only…
Opening the door, knowing he is beyond hearing, you say the words anyway before baiting the enemy away from the town and returning to the cycle that has defined your many lives.
"I'm sorry my love…I was so happy here…"