~ This is my first fanfic xD I don't own Zelda, blah, blah. Enjoy! Reviews make this girl's world turn round :)

It was a beautiful day. Wispy clouds ringed the sun, reigning in a waxy blue sky on the finest summer morning. Light filtered gently through the muddy windows of Link's house.

"Honey."

He turned over, blotting out the voice that interrupted his dreams.

"Link."

He put the pillow over his head.

There was a noisy sigh. It must be Ilia. Who else? he wondered.

"I shaved your eyebrows," said Ilia, shaking him.

Not impressed, thought Link, shaking her off like a bothersome fly. He turned over again, blonde hair ruffled by a slight breeze.

"I killed your horse. I broke your sword. I'm leaving you for some tattooed guy I met in Kakariko."

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up," groaned Link, finally opening his eyes.

"No, wait," said Ilia, pushing him back down as he struggled to sit up. "I've got more. We're in debt, I sold all of your clothes, I dyed your hair Hylia-blue, I…"

"Oh, stop it," said Link.

"I was only joking," said Ilia, looking slightly hurt. "And I've made us toast." She scrambled ungracefully off of his bed and bounced into the kitchen - a new addition. She returned balancing a plate of what looked like lumps of charcoal.

Link blinked.

"Got a little too excited with the fire, did you, sweetheart?"

"Shut up," his wife said.

His wife. He, Link of Ordon, had acquired, well not acquired so much as had been cursed with, a beautiful, youthful, new wife who did all the things she thought was expected of her: she made him breakfast despite his insisting otherwise, she neatly folded all of his clothes, she scolded him when she thought necessary (all the time), and she focused her large, hawk-like eyes onto him to gaze at him with mushy romantic wonder. Link, at best, had smiled at her. He hadn't really kissed her since the day they married. They had married only a couple weeks after Link was riding home, dirt-covered and both physically and mentally exhausted, from saving Hyrule.

Link grinned, taking a lump delicately. He took a bite and choked.

"G-Good," he said. "Wonderful. Delightful. Delectable, delicious -"

"I get it," said Ilia, smacking his arm in a loving way. She sat there staring at him as he slowly pretended to nibble on the toast. He felt his face crawling with embarrassment.

"You don't like it," she said, her face falling.

Link felt guilt sharply overtake the embarrassment. "No, they're great. Honestly."

She stared at him with those huge, unblinking eyes. She moved forward, edging towards him, until they were nose to nose, and then kissed him with enthusiasm. Link kissed her back, just a little, to keep her pleased, and then pulled away, his face hot again.

"No," growled Ilia, grabbing the front of his shirt. She dragged him close again with a little too much fervor and they fell onto the hard, dusty floor.

Link untangled himself as gently as he could. Ilia's face was dark; her voice was even darker.

"Why don't you ever want to kiss me?" she asked. Demanding, like a child.

"I do."

"No, you don't. You pull away. What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Sometimes I think you don't love me."

Link didn't answer. He heard the haaaff of her breath as she exhaled and felt another crashing wave of guilt wrack his body.

"We got married," she said, and her voice was high and thin and dangerous. "You married me. You said yes! If you didn't love me, why did you say yes?"

Again Link did not respond.

"Tell me you love me," snarled Ilia, her mood swinging downhill. "Say it, you selfish, insensitive -"

"I love you."

Ilia slammed her palms down onto her thighs and then tottered to her feet, a single tear careening down her cheek. She glared at him with accusing eyes, anger exuding from every cell in her body.

"You don't mean it," she said.

Link didn't know how to answer that. Yes? No? Maybe so? Of course I mean it, honey. Yes, I mean it with every particle of my heart, but I can't say that, because it would be a lie -

So he said nothing. His silence seemed to infuriate Ilia more than words would have.

"You don't marry people, and say that you love them, when you don't!" she shouted. "Everyone knows that, stupid! Why not get rid of me now, then? Why not tell me to get the hell out? Why not? Do it, you miserable hero -"

Link shrunk inside of himself, trying to block her out, and he was miserable. He was miserably trapped with this demon-woman, and he was too nice to say it, even though he longed to. He burned to say those shining words, Get the hell out. But he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was condemning himself, he was hurting two people at once, and he couldn't fix it.

Why did he marry Ilia at all? He remembered Rusl taking him aside one day and saying, Link, my friend. I can see you are restless among with us mortal people. Rusl had smiled. Nodded. Laughed. Why don't you settle down, find yourself a wife, and be as happy as I am? Look at Ilia. The poor girl longs for you, Link, and you deny her every day and break her heart. You went out to rescue her, didn't you? You have to feel something for her.

And he had, of a sort. But it was the tiniest, weakest 'something' that made him do it. A sense of something left undone. He had set out after Ilia to save her, but for the rest of the village. He had never felt a real, true 'something' for her. He just knew, at the time, that not any member of the village could be lost, especially not the mayor's daughter.

And look what it led to.

"I'm not leaving you," he said to Ilia. He didn't really like to talk. He was a listener, and it felt strange to have to explain himself to anyone, especially this woman-child glaring at him from above. "I love you too much. I don't kiss you because I want it…to be…" Oh, God. He blushed. "…a special…you know, occasion, when we do. Makes it sweeter. You've heard the saying: Absence makes -"

" - the heart grow fonder, yeah, I've heard it," finished Ilia curtly, but she did not appear quite as mad as before. "That's the sorriest excuse I've ever heard."

Link shrugged. "It's not an excuse."

"Quit lying to me," said Ilia, "or I'll have the devil cut your tongue off."

Yeah, you would know the devil, Link thought, nibbling on his toast. He sensed the fight was over, but only for now.

"Kiss me," said Ilia suddenly.

"What?"

"Did I stutter or did your ears flap over?"

Link stared at her. Her hands were on her hips and she was gazing at him with a soft, most un-Ilia-like expression. It was unsettling.

"Kiss me or I'm leaving you, and I'll marry that new boy in town, What's-His-Face Rowley, because of course he's madly in love with me, and you'll be the only boy besides the little ones that isn't settled." The threat came out velvet-soft and hollow, but Link knew that she meant it.

He stood up very slowly, leaving his charcoal lump on the floor, and moving with the grace of a born swordsman, he put his arms loosely around her thin, bony shoulders and kissed her tenderly. It took all of his effort not to jerk away, for kissing Ilia felt like kissing Telma - wrong, awkward, stillborn. Something that was not meant to be. He turned his head slightly and drifted into a sort of haze, numbing himself so he would not feel. The kiss seemed to be lasting days and days, days turning into weeks and weeks turning into months. Months of standing there trying to numb himself while it still endured. He felt as trapped as the statues he had once brought to life. As old as Hyrule. And still they stood in that tiny, airless room and made no effort to break the kiss that they began.

Finally, after several lifetimes, Ilia was the one who pulled away.

"Thank you," she said in a much softer voice, resting her head on his shoulder. "Now I believe you."

Link felt extremely awkward. He debated patting her head and decided against it. He let her lean heavily against him and stood as still as stone.

I don't love you. I don't love you…

Help me.

"Well," he said, and then wished he hadn't spoken. Ilia looked at him with shining eyes. "Well…we ought to finish eating…the charc - er, the toast - is getting cold."

"Yes, you're right," said Ilia, sitting down on the bed. She yanked him down and snuggled into his side. "Actually, I'm not that hungry."

"Me either," said Link, relieved.

"Let's stay home together."

"No!" Link shouted.

Ilia looked at him.

"No…I…have to go to town," said Link, thinking fast. "My sword is a bit dull-looking and I need Rusl to sharpen it up for me."

"Why? What do you need it sharpened for?" Ilia asked, sitting upright and cocking her head curiously.

"I - what?" Link said, even though he heard her perfectly well.

"I said, Why?"

Link cast his mind out and settled on wood. He smiled, a picture of innocence.

"I need it for chopping firewood," he said triumphantly.

Ilia frowned. "But that's your Master Sword. You used it to slay Ganondorf. Do you really want to waste it on something so trivial as wood-chopping? I have a hatchet…"

"My sword's better," he said stupidly. "Ah - firmer. Yes, it's much firmer and easier to use."

"Baby, are you sure that you want to -"

"Yes," said Link shortly. "Yes, absolutely sure. What am I going to do with it anyhow? Hang it on the wall like a bloodstained trophy? Ganon's dead, the twilight's gone forever…"

And yet he knew it was not true. He loved the sword like he loved Midna.

Shock made his vision go hazy. Did I really just think that?

Midna..

"Link? Are you okay? You look faint."

"I'm fine," he said out of habit and left, slamming the door behind him.