Goooooood evening! It's time for some more garbage. Quick housekeeping before we get started: I'm switching this to an every-other-night project so that I can work on my own personal writing and other Zelda-related projects.
And now, I proudly present some post-OOT fluff that nobody requested specifically but that I feel we all need.
Order up!
The General was brooding again.
Zelda peered around a column at the man sulking in the garden, and swallowed a giggle. He just looked so absurd, all mopey and gloomy even surrounded by a profusion of pink flowers. He was slumped on a curved stone bench, his elbows propped on his knees, hands dangling down between his calves, head bowed. His helmet sat next to him, its feather plumes waving jauntily in the gentle summer breeze.
Zelda swept up her skirts, swallowed her smile, and floated into the courtyard. Or, at least, she attempted to, but tripped over a rock and spoiled her grand entrance.
Oh well.
Mirth spilled out of her after all, and she laughed a little at herself as she traipsed forward.
"Oh, General," she said. "Does the beautiful weather have you down?"
"Hello, Princess." Goodness, he sounded as mopey as a raincloud. Zelda wondered what it was that had gotten into the poor man today…? It seemed like it was always something. Truthfully, Link's constant depression would have been tiring, except— well—
After everything he'd been through, it was understandable.
"Ah," Zelda said, seizing the General's helmet. "I've been looking for this everywhere. Hold my tiara, won't you?" She pulled her tiara off and shoved it into Link's hands, then plopped his helmet onto her head. She looked at him, grinning, and bobbled her head, making the overlarge helmet bobble back and forth.
Link looked at her for a long moment, then sighed as deeply and sadly as a dying animal. Zelda felt her grin fading, and pulled the helmet off, uncaring of how it would affect her hair.
"Link," she said. "What's wrong?"
He didn't speak, merely looked down at the tiara he still held between his gloved hands. Zelda swept her skirts aside and seated herself beside Link, close enough that their legs touched. "Tell me?" She asked, voice softer than it had been. Then she tilted her head so it rested on his shoulder. It was shockingly familiar— shocking behavior for a princess— but she'd known Link nearly her whole life.
"Tomorrow, it'll be fourteen years since I came back here," he said softly, morosely. "Twenty one since I lost my childhood forever."
Zelda inhaled, searching her mind for the date. Was it— Yes, it was. On this day fourteen years ago, she'd awoken from a strange dream, and then found a boy in her garden.
In this garden.
"Oh, Link," she said, remembering the terrible pain and death in the eyes of the boy who had come to her and asked, tentatively, if she remembered.
And she had, vaguely. She had remembered bits and pieces of a life lived by someone else, remembered it like a distant nightmare.
Over the years, those memories had faded for Zelda. But not, apparently, for Link.
Wishing there was more she could do for him, she looped her hand through the crook of his arm. She felt him twitch, and a moment later, a little of his weight shifted to press back against her, gentle and strong and present.
Oh, her General. Always gentle. Always strong. Always present.
Mentally, Zelda began cataloguing what she could do to help Link. What could she do for him tomorrow to take his mind away from all the horrors, the pain, the loss?
As she leaned against Link, and Link leaned against her, Zelda felt a plan click into place in her mind. She'd been waiting for an opportunity, an opening. Well, this was as good an opportunity as any: She'd take his bad memories, take an anniversary of misery, and give him something better, something to brighten his future, rather than cast a shadow.
Zelda felt a smile quirking over her lips as she watched Link continue to turn her tiara in his hands.
Yes. She knew exactly what to do.
"Wake up, lazybones! Up, up, up!"
In any other time period, it would've been inconceivable for the princess to come to the barracks to scare the General of the Army out of his bed. But the people of this Hyrule Castle had long ago given up on ever distilling any sense of propriety into their wily, headstrong princess. They merely rolled their eyes, threw up their hands, and hoped she didn't get into too too much trouble.
"Up!"
Zelda paraded into Link's quarters— spacious, yes, but almost painfully spartan— and threw open the casements. Dawn light poured in, and Link rolled over, groaning. He moaned something into the depths of his pillow that sounded quite a lot like a tortured "whyyyyy" and Zelda grinned.
"There's things to do! Up! Get up! We're having an adventure!"
One baleful blue eye regarded her blearily.
"What sort of adventure?" He asked suspiciously.
"The fun sort. Is there any other kind?"
Zelda marced over to Link's wardrobe and threw open the doors. She made a face as she surveyed the uninspired march of plain tunics and trousers.
"Didn't I give you some colorful clothing for your last birthday?" Zelda asked, pushing through the rack of clothing.
"I the gaudy things up and used the rags to staunch a wound," Link said glumly. Zelda turned to regard him in dismay. He'd propped himself up in a seated position, the blankets piled in his lap, his blonde hair everywhere. He wore a baggy nightshirt, and the collar gaped just enough to show a tantalizing glimpse of collarbone. Hmm.
"You have a dreadful sense of humor," Zelda observed, then turned back to her rummaging. "Aha!" There, in the back of the wardrobe, were the aforementioned tunic and breeches, both of a very tasteful navy blue that perfectly matched his eyes. She pulled them out from the back of the wardrobe and flung them at Link. The clothes landed over his head. "You have five minutes. If you're not dressed and out in the hallway, I'm coming back in, and I'm not knocking," Zelda teased.
"Fine, fine," Link said from beneath the fabric, sounding utterly bemused.
Zelda made her exit, giving her beloved general just enough time to get dressed, but not enough time for that infernal mind of his to get cranking and remember what day it was.
When enough time had passed, Zelda burst back into Link's room and dragged him out by the elbow.
"What is this adventure, exactly?" Link asked her as he stumbled along, allowing her to tow him along through the bowels of the palace.
"If I told you," Zelda said with an overexaggeration of patience, "it wouldn't be an adventure."
"I think you're mixing up an adventure and a surprise again," Link said, but didn't pry further.
There was a carriage waiting for them in the forecourt, and Zelda hauled Link up into it. He'd barely settled before she rapped on the roof. The carriage lurched, and Link flopped back into his seat with a "whoof!" Zelda hid a smile.
Operation: Keep Link Off Balance was coming along absolutely swimmingly.
They went first down to Castle Town, for breakfast at a cafe that Zelda knew for a fact that Link loved. (She knew this for a fact because she'd followed him a few times, cleverly disguised, although he still always managed to spot her.) The proprietor showed them to a back room that Zelda had reserved, and Link allowed himself to be plopped into a seat. As he settled, a platter appeared before him: Poached eggs on perfectly crunchy toast with a creamy, savory lemon sauce; sizzling slabs of bacon; roasted vegetables, perfectly crispy; and, for dessert, a tray of cheese, chocolates, and sliced fruit.
Link squinted at Zelda over the cheese.
"You're trying to bribe me," he said, nevertheless gobbling down a perfectly bite-sized chunk of Southern Forest Goat Cheese.
"Me? Bribe you?" Zelda fluttered her eyelashes as innocently as she could. "I'd never do such a thing."
"Oh?" Link arched an eyebrow. He leaned back in his seat and began to count on his fingers. "There was the winter ball when we were eighteen—"
"Totally harmless," Zelda said primly.
"The snow weekend at your father's lakeside estate—"
"A simple misunderstanding."
"That time with the traveling circus—"
"Oh, come on, you enjoyed that one."
A smile was flickering at the corners of Link's lips. "That one trip to Kak—"
Zelda set her fork down with a forceful clatter.
"You swore never to speak of that one." She leveled the accusation across the table at him and he blinked at her tone, then grinned.
"Did I?" He waggled his brows now. "I'm sure I don't remember."
Zelda felt relief welling within her. Her plan was working! Here was the Link she so loved and adored.
"Come on," Zelda said, pushing up from her seat. She popped around the table and grabbed Link's arm, towing him to his feet.
"What now?" There was laughter in his voice as she towed him along.
"Ah-ah-ah," Zelda said. "No telling! You'll ruin the surprise!"
All day, she kept him busy and distracted. They went to the park, the museum, the bazaar; they stopped at every restaurant and sweet shop that Zelda had ever tailed Link to; they even went boating out on the castle moat. As the day grew towards evening and they made their way back within the safe harbor of the castle— the drawbridge creaking up behind them— Link turned to Zelda. In the dimming light, Zelda could see the affection in Link's eyes.
"I know what you've been doing," he told her. His voice was gentle and a little bittersweet. "You've been trying to distract me. Thank you."
Zelda reached up to brush a strand of hair out of Link's eyes.
"Has it been working?" She asked him.
"It has." He leaned into her touch the faintest bit. "Thank you. You've been very kind."
"Oh, don't thank me yet," Zelda said sunnily. "The day's not over yet."
Link blinked at her, clearly flummoxed.
"It's not?"
"Nope." Zelda grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his. "Come on."
They walked hand-in-hand through the twilit streets of Castle Town. Fairy lights were springing to life all around them. Jugglers and acrobats had been replaced by vocalists serenading the crowds. Romantic ballads followed Zelda and Link through the square, and Zelda could feel him sliding closer to her as they walked.
Out here, dressed as they were— him, in simple finery, her, in an unassuming pink gown— they could have been any well-to-do couple. Zelda was glad to feel Link relaxing against her. As they drew nearer and nearer to their destination, she paid closer and closer attention to him, which was why she wasn't surprised when he tensed in sudden realization.
"Zelda," he said, his voice soft. "Please. No."
"Yes," she told him, tugging his hand. "Come on. It will be alright. I promise."
Link followed her reluctantly, trailing up the steps to the Temple district. She pulled him along, through the series of ascending plazas, until at last they stood on the steps of the Temple of Time.
"Come, Link," she told him, voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I wish to show you."
As though he were a man walking to the hangman's noose, Link dragged his feet, slogging after Zelda as she pushed into the Temple. It was empty at this time of night, and their steps echoed off of the well-polished floors and unadorned walls.
The altar was bare, of course: The Stones had been returned to their rightful keepers, sealing shut the door that guarded the Master Sword. Zelda drew a reluctant Link forward to the altar, then positioned him directly before the Triforce. She could feel the unhappiness radiating from him, and part of her felt a little bit bad— but only a little bit. This was (after all) part of her Grand Plan.
"One day, I'll stand where you're standing," Zelda told him hushed tones. "I'll pledge to safeguard the land from all threats, to govern her with love and kindness. Then the High Priest will place the crown on my head, and I'll be queen."
Zelda turned Link by his shoulders so that he was looking back at the mirrored, empty expanse behind them.
"I'll turn around with the crown on my head, and I'll see this room full of people," she continued. "Hylians, Gorons, Zora… Maybe even Kokiri and Gerudo. They'll come and watch me take my oath. And when I turn around, they'll all kneel."
To accentuate her words, Zelda knelt before Link, her skirts pooling around her. He looked down at her in confusion.
"Princess, what—"
"Hush, Link. I spent all night working on this speech and I won't let you ruin it."
Though he was still pale with unhappy memory, the very edges of his lips quirked.
"By all means, continue, then," he said.
"Thank you, I will." She cleared her throat. "Where was I? Ah, yes. The people will kneel before me, and they'll look up at me, and I will be their queen. It's a fate I've always known of, one I'm happy to accept, even. But."
She waited. Finally, Link caught on to her cue. The little smile brightened a little bit more, was colored by fond amusement.
"But?" He obediently repeated.
"But the weight of the crown would be lighter if I had a capable partner at my side," Zelda said, still looking up at him. She took his hands. "If I had a good, kind husband, one who cares just as deeply for the people as I do, it would be easier. If I had the warmth of love to guide me, it would be far easier." She squeezed his fingers. "I know there is darkness in your past. I know that the shadows haunt you. But— Link, you're my light. And I hope that… that you'll let me be yours." She searched his face hopefully. "Be my husband?"
He stared down at her for a moment. Upon realizing that this wasn't (yet another) one of her practical jokes, his mouth dropped open to form a perfectly round 'O.'
"Well?" Zelda asked hopefully.
His jaw worked for a moment. Then he spoke with a kind of wry awe.
"I really shouldn't be surprised that you managed to get this backwards, too," he said. He dropped to his own knees across from her and pressed his palm to her cheek. "I don't suppose you'd let me propose to you properly?"
"Of course not," Zelda said, laying her hand over his. "I did it first. You don't get to ride on my coattails."
"No." He began to laugh, delighted and amazed. "No, I suppose you wouldn't let me. Oh— Zelda, are you sure? You're not just asking because…"
She fixed him with a glare so firm that it shut him up on the spot.
"You aren't going to insult me by asking if I'm confused and don't actually love you, are you?" She asked him. "Because I do, dummy. I've loved you ever since we were ten, and you showed up in my garden." She glowered. "You might think of today as a miserable anniversary, but for me, it's the best day of my life, because it brought you to me."
Link looked at her for a long, long moment. Then he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. It was wonderful, better than wonderful— It was like magic, like a miracle, amazing and sweet and by far the most incredible experience Zelda had ever had. She wanted more than kissing— she wanted to do much more, see how sweet the sensations would become— but Link pulled away.
"I love you too," he said softly, reverently. "And— if you're really sure you want me, a washed-up hero, all mopey and sad, then…"
She surged forward, shutting him up in her new favorite way. They went tumbling to the floor, and she pinned him, kissing him senseless, then pulled back.
"Don't," she said, "insult yourself. You're better than that. And besides." She let a wicked gleam enter her eye as she sat back, entering lecture mode, even though she knew she must look ridiculous with her hair and her garb all mussed. "A king never doubts himself. At least, not in public. Oh, speaking of which!" She sprung to her feet excitedly. "We'll have to tell Father the news!"
"Does— Oh, I probably need to ask his blessing, don't I? Or his permission, even though you were the one who proposed to me…?"
"Don't be silly," Zelda said primly as Link clambered to his feet. "He's been after me to bring you around to the idea of marriage forever."
"Forever?" Link quoted skeptically.
"Practically. The winter ball, the snow weekend, the traveling circus, the time-that-shall-never-be-mentioned…" She began to list it off on her fingers, only to have Link cut her off with amazed laughter.
"That's what those briberies were about?"
Zelda shrugged.
"I had to test the waters somehow, didn't I? Come on," she said, seizing his hand again. "Let's go home and tell Papa. Alright?"
"Alright," Link echoed. He was smiling now, radiating a soft, contented joy. "Let's go home."
And feeling very pleased with herself, and all her grand plans, and the fact that this day had been eternally changed for Link, Zelda allowed her very handsome, occasionally-morose husband-to-be to escort her back to the palace.
Back to their home.
Taaaaaaaaaaaa da! That's it. A sweetie. Hooray for sweeties.
Coming up next time, I'll be filling a request for DokuganryuSilvio and HLTHCR where Link is in a band. I'm actually really glad you both requested this, because it's the catalyst for a little story I've been trying to figure out how to tell for years. I hope you're looking forward to it! Until then, stay safe, stay inside, and WASH YOUR HANDS! Air smoochies to all, and to all a good night.
