(Re-edited)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.
4
Zelda had dressed light for the spar, her hair set tight in a high ponytail. She had sorted through the corners of her closet and found a pale tunic, loose and billowing - a nice change from the fitted gowns she wore often. Malon had loaned her some dark pants that she had once worn during her 'farmgirl days' - as she longingly referred to them. The red-head said she had grown out of it, her figure becoming much more curvaceous than Zelda's as of late, something she loved rubbing in the princess' face without end. Zelda had grown to be more willowy and slender, petite in build yet fairly tall.
Her thoughts strayed to Link and she found herself scowling, momentarily diverting her frustration on a wooden dummy posted before her, then walking to their assigned meeting spot. She could vividly remember his smirk upon her acceptance and glanced longingly at her sword, wishing she could wipe the smugness off his face with it.
Link himself had donned a green tunic for the occasion, sharpening his sword skills near the bare courtyard at the south of the castle grounds. She stepped from the bushes. The fog clung to the air around them.
When did it get so misty?
Zelda picked the brambles from her hair and watched him in withheld awe. He unsheathed his sword with a graceful flourish, it twinkled even in the damp cold and the air sang as he sliced through, the metal humming with every precise movement. Never had she seen such skill. Even the captain of the guards could not perform with such relative ease and cool.
"Are you going to step out soon, Princess; or keep on watching the show?"
She blinked as he stopped his training and turned to her. His cerulean eyes flickered with possession as they met her idle indigo orbs. A smile flitted softly on lips. She shuddered when he spoke. "I don't really mind performing with such a stunning audience though. You look lovely in battle gear."
"Charming," she remarked as she strode confidently to the sandy arena. He swung his blade in lazy half arcs, making way towards her.
"Let's make this a fair fight, shall we Princess?"
"That depends, doesn't it?"
"Indeed." Link nodded, pausing to smile at her. "Advantages vary on speed, experience, and flexibility." He leaned forward on his heels and reached for her. She gasped, when his hand quickly fell on her belt, unraveling a secret lining, exposing hidden Sheikah knives and daggers, all glinting murderously.
"Ah," He smiled, and her heart thudded painfully as she noticed how close they were and how cold it was. And how warm he was. "You have an exotic taste in weapons, Princess."
She nearly outstretched her hands to touch him, but restrained, sticking her arms to her side. "As do you. Your sword is unlike any I've ever seen before." She mumbled to the ground. His sword was quite beautiful, she had to admit. His eyes lit up at the mention.
Beautiful.
Er, the sword was beautiful. Not…him…
"Glad you noticed." He mused. You would wouldn't you? "This," he held up the finely crafted blade, running nimble fingers through it, "was crafted in Calatia. I had it sent to me under the king's service." Remorse clouded the fire in his irises. She frowned. "It reminds me of home." He added quietly in what could be charitably called remorse.
They hung suspended in the moment, and she nearly gaped at the show of feeling he expressed. As if reading her thoughts, stepped away swiftly and nodded to her. "Are you ready?"
"Always." Zelda tossed aside her own sword, reaching for her belt to pull out a deadly Sheikah dagger.
"Am I to suspect that you'll be fighting with that?" Link sounded amused.
"Don't underestimate me, prince."
He sighed, getting into proper stance. "I'll try."
Fueled with irritation, Zelda lunged forward with a straight jab. He dodged fluidly, deflecting the blade with a quick swipe. She pulled back and tried a downward slash, he leaned back and crossed, keeping it at bay just above his neck.
Grinning, he slid away and swiped at her torso. She knocked her hilt to the tip of his sword before it could hit its mark, and it clattered to the ground. His eyes narrowed, but quick as lightning, he rolled around her in a brief circle, snatching the fallen sword and swooping in for a jump attack. Zelda yelped, unprepared as the weight of his sword crashed her to the ground, her back thudding against the hard ground. Sand spewed in collision, whirling around them.
Goosebumps spread on her skin as he knelt before her, sword still drawn. She had never lost a fight. Never. How?
The blade shimmered faintly in her eyes and he smirked, sheathing it with the dramatic flourish, the metallic sigh ringing in her ears. His eyes were even bluer up close. The fog had given it a stormy unreadable light, attractive and impossible to pull away from.
Oh gods, did she really think that? He gazed over her, unimpressed, The thought nagged her. Link let a smile pull on his lips again, and he watched curiously as the common effect took over her: she blushed. Her cheeks tinted a rosy color and he brushed a hand across it, smug now. They heated, turning to a faint red.
Hm.
"Your Majesty," He managed a compunctious look, sincere to the brim. "I apologize. I shouldn't have kept going. You - are you alright?"
Link knew though. She wasn't fine. Her cheeks were flushed she looked dazed and flustered. He had a vain idea of why.
"I'm okay," she gasped out, clutching the back of her neck and wincing as she struggled to rise. Link took her by the arm, grasping her firmly and pulling her up. Her golden hair spilled down her shoulders, cascading down her back and brushing his fingers. He froze at the feel for a moment.
Smiling benevolently (or at least faking) he gave her a concerned look. She met his eyes again and opened her mouth to say something when he cut her off. "Do you want to go to the infirmary? You took a heavy fall."
Numb, she shook her head. "I'm fine, really."
Link's gaze grew heavy and she was startled as his irises began to give off a light glow. "I insist. You look plenty tired right now." His voice was deep and smooth, heavy with conviction and... and something else.
"I look tired?" Zelda blinked.
"Yes."
"Oh." Her eyelids drooped slowly. She was tired. So tired.
"Do you want me to carry you there?" He asked with a cautious tone, voice still lulling and steady. She felt warm.
"I…" Another part of her screamed in protest, a part muffled by the rapid thudding of her heart. She was not some helpless damsel in need of rescuing.
"You sprained your ankle. You cannot walk," he said, sensing her indignation.
"I can't walk." She sighed as her knees wobbled and her legs gave out. She collapsed on his waiting arms, head lolling back to face him with half-open eyes. Link smiled kindly. She really was beautiful.
It was quite a shame he'd have to break her.
"Carry me, please," she said sleepily with a dreamy expression, a naïve smile playing on her face.
"With pleasure." Link swept her up, bridal style, thought the thought nearly made him topple over. Bride? Get a hold of yourself, his mind muttered. She sank limp in his arms. "You should sleep, Zelda."
"I should sleep." She nodded in agreeement.
"Good," Link smiled down at her, "If you just obey it's much easier isn't it?"
"Yes," She mumbled with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.
.
Darkness entered her world, seeping in thick streams of overwhelming dusk. His voice was deep and eerie. "Don't struggle princess. I'd hate it if you'd die before the impending marriage."
Huh?
She couldn't open her eyes.
"It's quite simple. Just stay still and listen to my voice. That isn't too hard is it?"
"No."
She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't open her eyes. Why couldn't she open her eyes?
Pain washed over her like a ripping tidal wave, searing at her lungs and jabbing at her chest. She groaned, twisting forward in shock.
Open! Open! Her eyes wouldn't open!
Link's hand rested on her cheek, and she felt comfort wash away the pain slightly, making it easier to endure the hard hits directed to her skull. Her mind spun in quick rotations, making her dizzy. The world was so dark. And she was so dizzy. She reached out for help, reached out and found his hand in the spill of blackness. They held her, tight and soothing.
"Excellent. You're good at following directions, Princess. Do you understand the game now?"
Her throat was dry and air ran from her lungs. She felt empty and miserable.
"Hold my hand." He squeezed hers.
"Thank you," she rasped.
There was silence before an uneasy "You're welcome, Princess."
A glowing aura encircled the blanket of nothingness, lighting the way to a dimly-lit passageway. Icy winds nipped at her skin, fire coursed through her scalding hot blood as she raced for it, eager to return to reality. Her nerves seemed to shut off in the midst of it all.
The pain stopped. "Wake up."
.
The Princess of Hyrule awoke from the magic-induced slumber, her eyes fluttering open and sparkling with newfound realization. She gazed around and found the blonde prince staring back at her coolly. Then, sitting up and getting to her feet, she turned to him and slapped him across the face.
His head snapped to the side, cheek red from where she had hit him. She fumed and raged inside. Turning back slowly, he chuckled as if expecting it all along. "You are a filthy deceiving low-life scumbag and I ought to let you rot in the dungeons," she spat, lips pulled back in a snarl.
The prince flicked at his collar, pretending to be unfazed though she could see the starburst of shock in his eyes. "You are strong. Or so the experiment proves."
"Expirement?" Zelda sneered, rage burning in her eyes. The nerve of this man!
"Yes." Link looked her square in the eyes and chuckled again. "My procedure seems to be flawed doesn't it?"
"You're surprised."
"No. I'm not."
She was unconvinced. There was an underlying tone of agitation in his voice that only goaded her own ego.
"You're surprised that someone else besides you finally holds the upper hand."
"I admit I don't have it. But neither do you," he countered back as they circled each other, expressions tense and eyes unfeeling.
"What makes you so sure?" she taunted, feeling her hold in him slipping and desperately trying to regain control.
"Because," he said, slow and deep, as if savoring the feel of the words, "I know you."
"You know nothing about me."
"I know enough to tell that you're not short of knowledge. You know what I've done. You know what I'm capable of. You know you've finally found your match in this little battlefield of yours."
"I can have you reported!" Zelda shouted, her shoulders straightening as her voice grew, shaking with rage. "Locked up! Imprisoned for the rest of your thieving life! How dare you!"
"Would you?" Link inquired, rocking back on his heels. "Imprison me, I mean? Think it through."
Zelda hesitated. Her thoughts waded through a murky sea of empty threats, bursting from her mouth, low and scorching. "No. That would be too good for you." She poised herself right before him, their faces inches apart. Neither wavered from the heated glares they sent each other. "I know how you men work, prancing around with your so-called honor."
He shifted in his place, clenching his hands to fists. "You're scared, aren't you? About this hold I have over you. You're scared I'll break you."
"Just as you're scared I'll ruin you. Burn your honor to the ground and rip apart everything you stand for."
"Then it appears we've come to a draw, hasn't it?"
"Not for long," she promised him, her eyes bright with malice. He was not lost to how the fierceness of her spirit only added to the beauty of her countenance.
"Yes," he agreed tartly. "Not for long, I can promise you."
.
Zelda knew now what a precarious situation she had found herself in, torn between pride and duty.
If she'd give him away, she had no doubt he would worm his magic back into her heart, breaking her slowly inside. If she stayed quiet, the advantage fell between them, within reach but heavily guarded.
The business of love was a tricky thing, she decided. Because, if ever, they should fall for each other, then she knew that it was she who would have truly lost in the end.
.
Malon was the first puppet of the game, and he knew he would have to wield her well if he wanted to break down the Princess' defenses.
He was shocked to find that the anxiety from earlier still had not left him. He thought of her unflinching eyes and venomous words, shuddering slightly. He was a fool to have underestimated her. He was a fool to have been so careless and confident in his magic.
He was a dead man for wasting precious time sitting in his bed and thinking about her eyes instead of more pressing matters.
