Trigger Warning: Masturbation scene. Sexual harassment. Vulgar language.

Four years later

Zelda woke up to the smell of fresh bread baking. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, a small smile drifting over her face. Baking bread had been one of her most favorite smells. There was always a sense of home and belonging accompanying the warm scent. She rolled over on the bed, expecting to see Link already awake but his back was turned toward her. He was wearing an undershirt and sweatpants, the things he usually wore when he went to bed. Or so Zelda thought. Perhaps he wore even less clothes when she wasn't sharing his bed. Just like always, she felt her heart beat quicker when she saw him. She thought that eventually, after being married to him for two years, she would get used to seeing him but there was always that bolt of lightning that pulsed through her when she saw him. How was it possible that after all these years, she was still pining over him?

She watched his back for a few minutes, the affection in her chest swelling rapidly. She counted the amount of times he breathed, reveled in the way his breathing was slow, patient, steady. She watched the nape of his neck, warmth flooding her even more. There was a mole right underneath his hairline, that Zelda focused on whenever she glimpsed the back of him. Hesitantly, she stretched out a hand, wondering what it would be like to touch his skin this intimately. She was almost at his neck too when -

"Morning, Zel," he said, his voice scratchy from the morning. Like lightning, Zelda snapped her hand back, color flooding her cheeks.

"Good morning," she said, her heart in her throat. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, suddenly feeling exposed. It was ridiculous. She was wearing a long sleeved pajama shirt and loose pants that went past her ankles and yet here she was feeling naked. "How was your sleep?"

"Sleep is sleep." He rolled over and gave her a careless grin, and though it was a simple act, Zelda felt her heart flip-flop.

At twenty years old, Link was probably the most handsome man Zelda had ever met. His eyes had gotten bluer every day, his nose was bridged perfectly, and his mouth was devilish. Zelda had countless dreams about that mouth that left her waking up with wetness between her legs. Even the stubble on his chin and cheeks served to only make him even more handsome.

It was agony, she decided. Agony that this man who was her best friend, who she longed for more than anything else, who she shared a bed with and who she was married to, all of these things were agony if she couldn't really be with him.

Link rubbed at his eyes. "Do I have bad breath?" He blew in her direction and sure enough, an odious scent assailed her nostrils.

So maybe he wasn't all that perfect. She wrinkled her nose. "That's disgusting!"

His smile broke into a full-fledged grin. "I just woke up!"

"You didn't have to demonstrate," she shot back. "I know you have bad breath in the morning. We all do."

He arched an eyebrow at her, a lock of blond hair falling into his face. "I've never smelled yours."

"Because I'm not mean enough to expose you to it."

"So you admit you have bad breath."

Zelda huffed, and threw the blanket down, sitting upright. She swung off her side, hearing Link's quiet laughter. "Oh come on, Zel!" he said.

"Not funny!" she called out, heading toward the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. At eighteen years old, Zelda was perhaps the spitting image of her mother. At some point, she might have even considered herself beautiful if she was allowed to keep up with her looks but it was hard.

The rebels had completely taken over Hyrule at this point and the laws dictated that make up was a crime punishable by fifty lashes. Zelda had once been subjected to ten. Her crime? The robe she wore was too tight and therefore, too revealing. The scars on her back from that time were faint, but a person could still see the pink lines stand out against the rest of her back. Since then, Link's grandmother had suggested Zelda not go out unless she was with Link, a fact that Zelda loathed. It wasn't so much that she found Link's company unbearable. But if she had to go grocery shopping and buy things like sanitary napkins for her period, she hated having Link witnessing that, though he didn't seem to mind. She also fervently missed going to the market alone. There was a sense of independence doing certain things by yourself that she missed.

After brushing her teeth and showering, Zelda stepped out, rubbing her hair in her towel and cheerfully stated, "All yours."

"Better not have used up all the hot water," Link warned. Zelda avoided rolling her eyes at him and instead headed to the kitchen where Grandma was waiting.

Ever since she was young, Zelda always called Link's grandmother, Grandma and even after marriage, Grandma had insisted on having her call her that. Her hair was swept up in a bun and she was hovering over the gas stove, humming quietly to herself. She had a ladle in one hand.

"Good morning, Grandma," Zelda said.

"Morning, child," Grandma responded cheerfully, just as there was a loud yell.

"Zelda! You used up all the hot water!" She heard him holler.

She barely managed to suppress a smile. Grandma however, chuckled quietly. "That ought to get him fully awake."

This response elicited a laugh from Zelda, one which Grandma fully joined in. Once the laughter died, Zelda and her sat in silence, listening to the shower. Then, "I smell bread," Zelda said. "Fresh bread. Did something happen?"

Grandma smiled. "Yes. You and Link finally got an interview."

Interest piqued, Zelda looked over at her. "That's wonderful!" About a year ago, when the bombings had gotten really bad, Zelda had applied for refugee papers so that she, Grandma and Link could escape to Altea. Zelda knew she would miss Hyrule with all her heart, but living here seemed to no longer be an option. Living had become unbearable.

"Yes, that's what I thought too," Grandma said. She knocked the ladle against the oven, a grin settling over her face. "Hence the bread."

"Grandma, thank you. You're the best." Zelda meant it sincerely. It had been Grandma, more than even Link, who had really made her feel like she was at home. Their house wasn't as big nor as comfortable as her old home, but it didn't matter. Grandma had softened the blow Zelda had taken when she'd lost her own parents.

"No, my dear. You are. You marrying my son was the best thing I could have hoped for." She sighed wistfully. "Now you and Link can move to Altea, and have children and that will be my last wish fulfilled before I meet my Maker."

At this, Zelda stiffened. She felt her cheeks flame as she stared guiltily around the kitchen, everywhere but Grandma. "Erm..." she said, casting about for any subject. "What do you mean Link and I? What about you? Are you not coming in for the interview?"

Grandma shook her head. "I was not chosen, my dear."

Zelda was about to ask what she meant by that, but Link had beat her to it. "What's this about not being chosen?"

Zelda turned to look at him where he was standing at the entrance and immediately blanched. "Put on some clothes!" she said in a high-pitched voice. Link was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He was currently running a smaller towel through his wet, blond hair. A drop of water ran down his neck, down to his chest, down to his navel and disappeared into the towel. Zelda turned red and averted her gaze.

Grandma clucked. "Two years you've been married and you still act like a blushing bride. Come now, Zelda. It's nothing you nor I haven't seen before."

Though she wasn't looking at Link, she heard a sly smirk in his voice when he said, "Yeah. Nothing you haven't seen before." Which was a lie. He knew as well as she did that she rarely saw him this naked before.

"It's still odd!" Zelda protested. "You should be ashamed."

"What a good, modest woman," Grandma said. "She has a point, boy. Put on some clothes. I can't take you seriously like that." She gestured to his broad chest dismissively.

Link ran a hand through his damp blond hair. His hair was usually a cheery, summary yellow, but now that it was wet it had taken on the quality of a burnished, dulled golden hue. His blue eyes cut through Grandma's, ignoring her jab. "What do you mean you weren't chosen?"

Grandma sighed, realizing he wouldn't go away. "I wasn't chosen to interview. Only you and Zelda were."

"We're not going, then," Zelda responded. She furrowed her eyebrows, and set her mouth into a grim line. Living every day here was a new kind of torture. Wrapping herself up in layers of loose clothing, unable to feel the wind caress her hair, nor read books with abandon as she used to. Now all that was left were books of the religion, or books that were so censored, that there was no point in reading them. Television was also banned, though Zelda had buried hers. She had not dared to unearth it to watch any videos.

To be sure, Hyrule had been worse off ever since the rebels took over and Zelda knew that anywhere was better than here. But none of that mattered if Grandma couldn't come with them.

"My dear, don't say such things," Grandma chided gently. "You will go to that interview."

Link glanced at Zelda. One look, and they understood that they were united in their decision. Link said, "Escaping from this place doesn't matter if you can't come with us."

"My son." Grandma shook her head. "I will always be with you and Zelda even here. Even were I chosen to go to the interview, I would not go." She sighed. "I made a promise long ago to your grandfather that I would die here in Hyrule beside him. I know I no longer have the luxury of hoping that I can be buried beside him, but at least I can die here in Hyrule."

Zelda flinched. "Don't say that."

Grandma smiled. "Even being surrounded by it, death still frightens you, doesn't it?" She threw her head back and laughed when Zelda looked away, refusing to respond. "Good. It means you still have hope. Don't worry about me. Go to the interview. That's a command."

"Grandma..." Link said, but trailed off.

"And you, young man," Grandma said, her voice going stern, "Don't you want better for your wife?"

"But I can't just leave you-"

"You can, and you will. Your wife always comes first. I will hear no further arguments about this."

Once again, Zelda and Link exchanged looks. Zelda didn't know how to properly apologize.

They walked silently. Zelda had shrouded herself in black robes and had covered every part of her but her eyes. In a way, covering herself like this was comforting; nobody, apart from Link knew who she was. She could walk around anonymously and observe at will.

"I'm sorry, Link," she said, breaking the silence first as they crossed the street. There weren't that many cars, but Link still clutched at her hand, and looked left and right before pulling her along. "I didn't mean to put you in this position."

"Hey," Link said and pulled her to him so that he could look at her in the eye. "Marrying you was my decision too. And remember, it was my suggestion first."

"I know but..."

A lopsided smirk appeared on his face. "I know, you've probably regretted it, haven't you? Agreeing to marry me."

Zelda's heart beat quickly. When he smiled at her like that, she longed to touch his face, to kiss him. She loved him too much to jeopardize what they already had. She shook her head vigorously. "No, of course not. You... you saved me. But what if we pass the interview and you have to give up Grandma? This isn't right. You shouldn't have married me if it came down to this."

He sighed, rubbing his bristly chin. "Well," he said thoughtfully. "You are more trouble than I bargained for," he said slowly. "I never thought you'd make such a terrible cook." Zelda's pleading look changed into a frown. "Or use up all the hot water. Maybe I ought to go in first just so you know how it feels to take cold showers."

She pushed him away from her and he laughed, reeling away.

"Halt! What's happening here?" A man sternly called out. He was dressed in the rebel officer's uniform, Zelda noted. He had bristly black hair and bulging biceps. The scars on her back twitched and she tried not to show the fear in her eyes. Yet she drew slightly closer to Link. "Do you know the penalty of touching a man who is not your husband, father, brother, or uncle?"

Zelda turned white. Link on the other hand, put his arm around Zelda reassuringly. "This is my wife, officer."

"Your wife, eh?" the rebel responded. Though Zelda was fully swathed in black, she could feel the man's eyes raking through her clothes and it was like he was undressing her. She averted her eyes and pressed closer to Link, drawing comfort from his warmth. "Maybe you ought to teach her some respect. Saw her pushing you. What kind of a husband allows that kind of behavior?"

She felt Link tense up against her. She knew he was angry. "We were only playing, sir," he said through gritted teeth.

"My husband knows to keep me in check," Zelda said, keeping her voice low.

"Did I say you could speak?" The rebel asked, his voice growing louder. "It seems your husband hasn't done enough. I ought to turn you in for your insolence. The price for talking when not spoken to is five lashes you know."

Zelda couldn't help it; she was trembling now.

"Scared?" The officer asked loudly.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Yes, sir," the officer corrected her. "I might let you off the hook for your multiple crimes."

"You are too kind," she murmured.

"But in exchange, I would like to see your face."

"Sir?" Link asked this now and when Zelda turned to look at him from the corner of her eye, she was surprised to see his eyes blazing furiously at the man. "That's unlawful."

The officer sneered at Link. "Sometimes you must bend the rules to get what you want."

"Forget it. Punish me instead." Link's grip on her grew even tighter.

"Link, no," Zelda said softly. "It's okay. It's just my face," she whispered to him. "Nothing anybody has seen before this mess happened."

Link glowered at the man. "Fine," he growled to her. "But only because you're fine with it."

Because it was forbidden for a woman to reveal her face, the man led them to a more secluded alley. Zelda faced the man. She slowly unhooked her veil so that it dropped down, revealing her whole face. She watched as the man greedily looked at her face. "Your robes too." Zelda hesitated, before unhooking her robes too, revealing clothes that actually fit her, trousers and a tunic that showed off the shape of her waist and breasts. She saw him staring at her breasts for a long time.

"What a vision," he breathed. Zelda noticed his hand snaking into the band of his pants and tried to erase the observance from her memory. "Like that of an angel sent from God Almighty himself." His voice hitched slightly. She tried not to notice it, but it was hard not to notice his hands rapidly moving under the material of his pants. "You may have an angelic face, but you want me to fuck you, don't you? It's always the most innocent ones who think the nastiest thoughts. Dirty whore."

Zelda said nothing, but she wanted the earth to swallow her. She couldn't begin to imagine what Link must think. Link... She thought to herself. She had never even kissed Link, and now here she was watching a man stroke himself to the image of her.

She felt her insides cringing. She felt ashamed. She felt like she was being raped even though the man stood at least ten feet away from her.

"You fucking slut. You want your mouth around my dick, is that it?" The man seemed to be saying this to himself more than to her. His voice became more strangled and finally he let out a long, gurgled moan. The seat of his pants grew damp, and the movement under his pants slowed down until it was fully stopped.

"Get out and forget you saw anything," he told her, withdrawing his hand. There was something wet, slightly white liquid on his fingers that he wiped on the brick wall next to him. "And if I see you again, sinning," he warned. "I'm sure your husband would hate for you to be punished physically. I will let you off the hook... for a heftier price." He was still panting as he said this.

Zelda bowed her head, and hooked up her robes and veil again. She tried to move away as quickly as possible. Link was at her side but she couldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him. Her cheeks burned. She didn't know what to say. Link's silence was almost deafening.

When they were about two blocks away from the refugee interviewing center she turned to face him. "Say something," she begged.

His jaw worked furiously for a moment, before he said in a carefully neutral voice, "I have nothing to say."

"This interview is important. I didn't want us to get derailed..."

"I know." His voice was now curt.

"Link, please-"

"I told you I had nothing to say, didn't I, Zelda? I'm not really your husband."

The words slapped her in the face. "I know," she said, her voice unnaturally high.

"So it doesn't matter what I thought of what happened back there."

Zelda frowned. She felt tears spring at the corners of her eyes and swiped at them angrily. "But you're my friend, aren't you?"

"Obviously."

"Don't you care?"

He took a deep breath. "No, I don't. And I don't really care to discuss this anyway. We're here."

And so they were. The interview center loomed before them. And despite the anger and hurt that coursed through Zelda she felt fear shoot through her limbs. If their interview went okay, then maybe things would be easier. Maybe they would finally be free.