There were some things in this world that convinced me that the world made no sense. It was purposefully confounding to throw you off. It trifled with your daily expectations for the mere goal of amusement, whether it be the will of the goddesses or not, there was an aspect of life that compelled me to believe some force had a personal slight against me. It wasn't obvious either. Whatever it was toyed in moderation, like scouring the house for a cup of sugar only to realize it was already on the countertop and you wasted an hour. The apathy of walking into a doorway to immediately forget your reasoning for going there in the first place, then having to turn back because your memory decides to be helpful ten minutes too late. Or, perhaps, when your mind dwells too long on a bitter person and their presence being within the very next door you walk through.

Then, those strange forces turn their back for a while. They leave you in paranoia and wonder how long they will be gone because you know it won't be forever. And now, as I sit in a chair, hair dampened from the rain and a fireplace to the side of the small house I think that maybe instead of leaving they wanted to give their old antics a twist.

Rauru Gaepora busied himself at the table, flipping through a book with spectacles ready to slip off his nose at the slightest of movements. Habit told me to initiate empty conversation, however when I opened my mouth to comment about the humble room, he looked over with a stare that clammed up any words in my throat. He turned his attention back towards the book. I pursed my lips together.

My soaked stockings hung in front of the fire and a bubbling pot within the hearth. It smelled divine, which was ironic with the Temple of Time behind the small village of holy missionaries. The heavens were still spilling open outside and the light from the fire barely escaped the mantel with the shrouding darkness the rainclouds caused; night had fallen halfway into the day. It was a wonder how the old man could read from candlelight alone.

Rauru's chair scraped against the wood floor and my neck snapped up at the sound. He sniffed, closing the book with one hand and looked over his spectacles at me.

"You're hungry, I presume?"

Without waiting for my answer, he had already submerged the silver ladle into the broth and poured me a bowl.

I nodded in reverence, "Thank you, Father Rauru."

My numb hands wrapped themselves around the warm bowl but it didn't budge. I looked up in question. The old man stared down at my hands with a quizzical brow. "That boy isn't feeding you?"

His gruff voice "humphed" as an afterword.

"Oh, it's actually quite the contrary," I said after a short laugh. "You see, I was fairly insistent on scaling the slope as quickly as we could and well – I got distracted."

Rauru kept his stare and tapped my hand, "Some things never change with you, Zelda."

"No, and I will take that as a compliment," I took the bowl from him as he laughed lowly and sat in the rocking chair across from me.

White, bushy brows crowed his forehead. "You really ought to understand your father for keeping you so sheltered for he knew the wild heart your mother had."

Up until three years ago, Father Rauru had been the religious advisor to the king. He had extensive practice with the ancient manuscripts and was well-renowned with anyone who was even partially devout. In my case, he was also my religious studies teacher since I was a toddler. And if anyone asked him, perhaps a part-time nanny as well. It had conveniently slipped my conscience that he was still taking an extended stay at the temple to strengthen his bond with the goddesses. Every priest was to do a pilgrimage to the Great Plateau with each decade, but not far into his own trek Rauru had made the decision to cut ties with the court in turn for paying religious reverence.

"Sunday service has been rather boring since you left," I said, cooling a spoonful of soup. He looked towards the rafters at this remark, "Good. What you say is boring will leave some motivation to actually pay attention."

I smiled. He didn't change much either.

The door swung open as lightning struck outside. I jumped at the clattering and the scuffling of boots. Link fought the wind and shut the door. His cloak was dripping wet with one faintly lit lantern in one hand. He mumbled an apology when he turned to find two pairs of eyes on him.

"Do you plan to freeze by the door or join us by the fire, boy?" The old man deadpanned at his awkward idling.

Link bowed his head and left his cloak at the threshold. Once he pulled up a chair, I watched him with worry. The cloak didn't do much to protect him, it seemed like he was drenched to the bone. I passed him my bowl of broth, but he pushed it away – not without staring at it longingly afterword.

"I'm fine, Zelda," he started, gripping his knee with a vice. To keep from shivering, no doubt. We were in a warmer region, but it was still the tail end of winter. "It took a bit longer to find the stables in the rain."

"Is Cozmo okay?" I asked in a softer voice with genuine concern.

Link rolled his eyes, "Being pampered, I'm sure."

"I take it you've met the stable boys?" Rauru watched us with a bemused voice. "They've just started their training and have already proved to be too energetic for the temple. Please, Sir Knight, help yourself to the cooking. It must have been a journey to drag this princess across the country! I see she's already named the horse."

Link nearly jumped out of his chair and sprinted to the broiling pot.

I glared at Rauru, "I'm not that bad! And there's no dragging about it." Then, I turned to Link who was trying his best to avoid a mess. "Now am I, Link? Tell him."

He looked between the old man and I. "Ah," he paused, "It's more of her dragging me."

Rauru nodded as if he completely understood. I bristled at his lack of support but forced myself to settle in the seat. Our host relaxed and closed his eyes, "So… there was no kidnapping then-"

Link stood straight up. We stared wide eyed at each other.

He continued, "-that's good. Very good indeed."

"Kidnap?" Link echoed before I could.

The priest opened an eye, "Oh, you haven't heard?" I groaned and set aside the bowl. Thoughts and assumptions about his words rambled in my head. He truly didn't change. At all.

"Father Rauru, please. What do you mean?"

Link sat down with a frozen expression. We exchanged another glance.

"Nearly one month ago," he began, taking his time and enjoying our reactions. "I received a letter from the king about keeping an eye out for the princess. Immediately I assumed it was about your own rebellious nature, but then he mentioned a knight and went on the ramble excessively about fearing your safety and whatnot." Rauru waved a hand as if to dismiss my father's words. "The Commander General cleared it up. I swear, Zelda, your uncle can read his brother like a book. I do believe I received a follow-up to quell any panic a half-day later.

"We are fortunate, yes," he grumbled to himself while mindlessly stroking his beard. "Very fortunate indeed."

At least the news of being a kidnapper didn't scare away Link's appetite. By the time the priest was finished with his spiel, Link had downed his first serving and rose for the second after a polite inquiry to the cook. "I was going to ask about the lack of wanted posters," then he added more quietly. "The army's motivation hadn't declined that steeply since I left, had it?"

"Ah, well. I'm sure the marriage will turn out to be far more agreeable in the future," Rauru lamented nonchalantly. I stared. Link stared - probably regretting how each trip to the pot seemed to bring about undesirable conversation. He stood by the mantel this time and I almost shook my head at his debating to eat the broth anyway.

My gaze flickered from Rauru to Link and back, "Have I missed a wedding?"

The thing about Rauru Gaepora was that he loved making people wait. Every experienced member of the court has remarked at least once before how the man seemed to have stayed the constant age of being a senile old geezer for the past two decades, but only a fool would assume his state of mind was a direct reflection. He used his age as an excuse to make people suffer further impatience without the ability to call him out. The holy aspect of his person made it all the much worse for those who didn't know him.

His laughter was slow, "How horribly inconvenient it would be to miss your own wedding! Although I always dreamed of ordaining such a union."

My eyes were bulging out of my head now and Link stayed motionless in the corner.

That was when it clicked.

The bowl. My hands. More specifically the lack of rings.

"Rauru, I am not married!" I nearly squealed. The addressed man feigned surprise, "Not to this strapping young man that whisked you away from your home?"

Link choked on the broth, turning to the mantel to keep from spitting across the room.

"Rauru that is hardly-"

Count to ten, Zelda. The grin on his face was true this time, the guise of being a clueless saint was gone. Along with it was the distinct laughter only a large statured man could bellow, also revealing his intentions.

He heaved a sigh after calming down from the fit. Link was still coughing up a lung. "I haven't lost my game, now have I?" He said as I gathered my bowl with a glare.

"Unfortunately not."

"Pray tell, Zelda," he started. "What caused you to leave home so suddenly? It's evident no foul play was involved."

Rauru's eyes were softer. His fun had been had. I didn't answer immediately. Thoughtlessly, I stirred the wooden spoon in my bowl and watched the contents mix together in a swirl. Hadn't he mentioned it had been a month already? It certainly didn't feel like it. My gaze drifted to Link, who peered through the window where the storm still continued its onslaught and then expectantly at me. It didn't feel like scrutiny from him, more like a gentle witnessing. My pulse leapt.

"A culmination of many things," I swallowed, looking at neither. My reasonings seemed to mount with each day. I glanced up at Rauru, "I'm not sure if I can follow Father's footsteps like he wants me to. I needed a break he wouldn't permit. And well…"

"And this young lad has taken up to guiding you. Now you're here."

I nodded.

Link set his bowl aside with a wry smile, "Not without its hitches." I laughed softly. He didn't elaborate. Rauru looked between us. Unexpectantly, he didn't ask about the statements. Without judgement or conviction in his voice, "Do you want to be queen?"

Father Rauru didn't seem bothered by the question. Instead, incredibly relaxed as if it were a simple inquiry. I blinked. No one had ever asked me that before. Feeling my palms get sweaty, I chewed my bottom lip. When I thought of Hyrule's queen, I saw my mother. Her hair was always pinned high on her head with light curls that were impossibly perfect, wise eyes, and a voice I desperately wanted to recall. It had been so long, but I still remember how it made me feel.

"There is strength in knowing your limitations, Zelda. The kingdom won't fall to pieces. The Council will convene to find the successor."

I met him with a fierceness, "With all due respect, Father Rauru, but I'm not a fool. The Council is arrogant and care only for their self-interests."

But he knew that because he was the one who told me. A gleam in his eye caught my words. "Do you want to be queen, Zelda?"

My forehead creased. There was only one answer.

Before I could remotely think of how to appease this interrogation, Rauru arose. "Would anyone care for tea?"

"That would be nice," Link said almost too quickly. I gave the priest a weak smile and stayed in the fire's warmth, smoldering in thought.

"Thank you again for your hospitality. We're indebted to you, Father Rauru," Link said with a kind smile. Tea had lasted far longer than it should have. The two men had bonded over old scriptures for at least two hours. Apparently, half the time I had nodded off on Link's arm.

"Think nothing of it," Rauru Gaepora waved him off. "I am deeply sorry I can't host you two overnight. It's such a shame they don't build bigger cottages for lonely old priests. I will expect to see you again before you leave, Zelda?"

I mustered up a polite smile, albeit sleepy. "Yes, thank you."

The rain had let up significantly, only a slight drizzle remained. After bidding goodbye, I let out an exasperated noise. "I thought I was going to die. I thought you didn't read, Link."

It wouldn't take too long to get to the inn. According to Link, he had already booked their rooms and it was just up the road. The night was dark, though, and I didn't care to stray far from his side. He winced at my comment, "Did you expect me to be all muscles and no brains? Ouch. I know I'm just a simple soldier boy, but still."

"No! It's just… I don't know!" Embarrassment touched my cheeks and he seemed amused by it.

"Your uncle gave me more books than I can count."

I hummed, "Oh, yes. He is a bit of a history nerd. Do you think he's grooming you? You'll turn into a little Nathaniel Nohansen."

"You think? I'm almost positive he enjoys pop quizzes and seeing the absolute horror in my face."

I nodded astutely, "I can see it now. He'll make you change your name to Junior. Perhaps, give you a pair of those abhorrent glasses of his. Next thing you know you're balding and have a strange craving for scones with honey."

His laughter was everything. I found myself watching him. Link's hair was still damp, but his eyes were bright and alive. Almost too easily, I leaned into him as we walked. My fingers grazed his own, interlacing lazily. Warmth and delight. He responded without words, pulling my hand closer and creating the hold seamless.

Link squeezed my hand before he spoke. "I only got one room. We're not doing horribly money wise, but I'd like it to stretch out longer."

"Okay."

"It should have two beds."

I pursed my lips. "Can we push them together?"

"Only if you ask nicely."

A grin caught my lips, "I'll just do it myself, then."

Suddenly, he stopped walking and pulled me back lightly. I waited, not wanting to part from his touch. Link's eyes were serious. A stoic blue that somehow made me fear getting lost in them. "Can I kiss you?"

My breath got lost in my lungs as I looked up at him. Even in the dark, I was sure his gaze would make any woman, and surely a good bit of men, swoon – especially me. "Must you ask?" My voice was weaker than before.

With the smallest of smiles, he enraptured me in a kiss. The darkness of the world dimmed darker and the flowers of my life bloomed brighter. His lips were gentle, but not cautious of my own. It dwelled inside me that Link was, ineffably, a companion that I would never want to part with. In that moment, it was realized to me that my heart would need to be torn before I willingly left his side.

Even that grew quiet as he kissed me against the stone wall of the Temple of Time.

Note: Okay I have a good plot in mind. Rest assured. My goal is to make myself cry at least once while writing this.