Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda or anything associated with it. All rights to The Legend of Zelda and affiliated characters belong to Nintendo.
Summary: She is the Crown Princess of Hyrule, and you… well, in another time you may have been a Hero. But not anymore.
Rating: K
Genre: Romance
Pairings: ZeLink
Bold
She stands there, under the elm tree in the centre of the Castle gardens. Her hair, so carefully, painstakingly straightened from its natural unruly curls by her maidservants, is unbound and moving in the slight breeze. The sunlight dapples across her skin through the leaves, glinting gold where it touches her hair, making her skin glow ethereally in the late afternoon. Eyes as bright and clear as the summer sky turn to you when you approach, and you raise your trembling hand in greeting. You wonder how she always knows you're coming. You know for a fact that you made absolutely no noise. Not even the highly trained Castle guards noticed you sneak in.
She is so painfully, hauntingly beautiful.
As she recognises you, her face breaks out into a smile, and you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest. You stop a respectful distance away and bow reverently. She laughs a little at you, the sound quiet in the stillness of the day, sure not to attract attention. "How many times must I tell you, Link," her voice, quiet and sweet, is full of fond exasperation, "you need not bow to me?"
"At least once more, Princess." You answer just as you always have, hyper aware of her proximity as she steps closer to pull you up by your shoulder. You know from experience that her hands, dainty in appearance as they are, are deceptively strong, and do not fight her as she straightens you. Here, in this section of the garden behind the high hedges, it is safe to relax your guard and allow for less formality, but you cling to it almost stubbornly. Despite your close friendship with this girl—now a young woman, really—you have always been mindful of the disparity between your stations. She is the Crown Princess of Hyrule, and you… well, in another time you may have been a Hero. But not anymore.
She had made sure of that, when she restored your lost years. You know that hadn't been her intention, and you find it difficult to fault her sentimentality. You had been tired, so tired, and had not the energy to muster up any protests to her plan. How was she to know the inner turmoil that being forced to relive your childhood would cause you? She had not really known you then. She had not known you were a lowborn, common boy without so much as a single relative to turn to. She had not known that your only two true friends in the world would leave you—one to fulfil her destiny, the other because she was no longer needed to guide you. She had not foreseen the nightmares and the almost painful, traumatic flashbacks, and not being able to speak of them to anyone for fear of sounding insane.
So you did not speak of these things to her, and you did not blame her.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Her voice is warm and affectionate as you straighten and brush a bit of dirt off your tunic. She eyes your equipment with trepidation. You have a sword, shield and bow strapped to your back, a pouch of rupees on your belt, and a bag of provisions slung over one shoulder. You can see her mind working furiously, the message of her lovely eyes changing as she realises the purpose of your visit. "You're leaving again?"
Her voice sounds painfully young. She is one of the few people in the world who remember that other time—the one with Ganondorf, and the Hero of Time. You had been nearly dizzy with relief that the Sages all appeared to have their memories intact, before Saria had been called away to fulfil her role as Sage of the Forest. When she had left you, she suggested that you seek out the Princess and find what answers you could; that had been the beginning of the unlikely friendship you had struck up with the Princess, shortly before you had left for Termina.
Now, seven years after being restored to your childhood, you once more felt the familiar itch to move, to travel, to lend your sword where you can and to see the world. You wondered if that feeling will ever truly leave you, and decide that you don't want it to. Your heart will always belong to Hyrule, but your spirit longs for the freedom of the open road.
"I'll return." You promise, unfairly. You know you can never truly promise that, since all sorts of things can happen to a solitary traveller. You have seen enough bodies on the side of the road to know that, even if you yourself have never been bested by bandits, or monsters, or simple sickness. But simply saying goodbye is too painful, so you take the risk of lying to her in order to make the parting easier.
"I suppose it's pointless to ask you to stay out of trouble." Her smile is tremulous now. You know she will not allow herself to cry in front of you, not any more. She had the first few times, when you had travelled away, but had learned quickly enough that working herself up helped no one. You suspect that she will fret over you, as always, and wish that she would not. She was at her loveliest when she was relaxed, and carefree. Granted, that occurred but seldom, and you feel privileged to have witnessed it.
"We both know that I seem to attract it." The conversation is scripted, almost. It is the same conversation that you've had multiple times over the course of the past seven years.
"You must return in three moons." She says, surprising you, with a shadow in her eyes.
You consider asking her why, but decide against it. You know from bitter experience that when she spoke thus, you should heed her warnings. "I will do my best." You promise instead, hesitating to leave.
She reaches for your face, surprising you. She has never done this before. You think that perhaps she wishes to kiss your cheek, as she used to do when you were children, and lower your head obligingly, but she turns your face and kisses your lips. In an instant, all the air is stolen from your lungs as you drop the small bag of provisions you had been carrying on your shoulder and close your eyes, burying a hand in her hair, cradling her jaw with the other. Her lips are soft, and warm, and brimming with so much magic you wonder at the feel of it, and her hands on the sides of your face are soft and un-calloused, her fingers brushing against your cheeks.
When she pulls back, she rests her forehead against your own. "I'll miss you." She says softly, an almost wistful tremor in her voice. "Be safe." She withdraws, and you open your eyes to see her raise her fingers to her lips. You fight the urge to mirror her action. "Three months, remember." She warns again, raising her eyes to him. "I'll need you in three months."
"I'll be here." You promise with conviction, and know that you will keep it. "In three months."
"Goodbye, for now." She reaches up to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, and you're lost for words. "If you leave now you can get in a few solid hours of travel before the sun sets." She prompts.
"Goodbye, Princess." You murmur, fighting the impulse to reach for her. Instead, you turn on your heel and slip out the way you came, your mind on the feel of her lips on yours, and the mysterious, foreboding warning ringing in your ears.
Three months later, you're standing on a platform being Knighted by the King of Hyrule, and watching the Princess out of the corner of your eye as her father rests his sword on your shoulder. He is saying something about your valour, but all you can see is the Princess smiling at you.
You had just entered the marketplace as the King and his daughter rode from the Temple of Time back to the castle, and she had spotted you almost immediately. Her smile had been of relief, then, and she had nodded to a balcony above one of the market stalls almost unobtrusively. You had looked up to spot a man drawing a bow and aiming it at the Royal party—and you had not spared a moment to think. You had raised your own bow and, shouting to attract the attention of the man on the balcony, had loosed the arrow at him. His own shaft had loosed, but he had lost his aim. Even as the town's soldiers had converged on the assassin with the arrow in his shoulder, his bolt had flown past the King of Hyrule and buried itself in the wall behind him.
You are a hero again. Perhaps not on as grand a scale as before, but a hero nonetheless. And as you watch the Princess move forward and clasp your hand to shake it, you feel bold enough to raise her hand to your lips, for all of Hyrule to see.
Perhaps leave a word? I feel like I haven't written anything in aaaages. I miss writing.