Hi all. I'd planned to do a lot more with this oneshot, but we've had some unhappy family developments over here. Long story short, due to some health and safety concerns, my husband and I are dividing forces. He has been ordered to return to his onsite, high-traffic job, so I'm taking our dog and our son to go quarantine with family several hours away. We don't know how long we're going to be apart, and tonight is our last night together, so this oneshot is going to be short so I can spend some time with him.
Anyway. Happy Wednesday.
Here we go.
Link watched his wife re-fold the couch throw blanket for the sixth time in a row, draping it just-so over the arm of the sofa.
"Daph," she said to their son, "tell me again what you think this boy is like?"
"He's fine, mom." Daphnes was lounging at the other end of the sofa, bare feet propped on the coffee table as he watched his mother's antics. "Totally nice and normal or whatever. You'll like him."
"Or whatever," Zelda repeated in an undertone, twitching the blanket a little to the left. She frowned as a wrinkle appeared in the fabric, and reached out to grab the blanket to re-fold it yet again.
Link had paused in the doorway to watch, but now stepped forward, clearing his throat.
"It'll be fine, Zel," he said. "We raised our Tet to have good sense."
Zelda left the blanket alone and turned, hands on her hips, to glare at her husband. Link absolutely did not smile, even though she was a tower (well, a very petite tower) of indignation.
"Tetra has sense," Zelda echoed. "But these college boys—"
"I'm a college boy," Daphnes pointed out.
"Precisely, dear," Zelda said absently. She scowled at Link. "Why, when I met you, you were running with the worst of all of them."
"And yet, Groose is now running a multi-billion dollar government contracting business," Link said mildly. "Therefore, surely whichever nice young man our daughter is bringing home will be a perfectly upstanding fellow."
Zelda glared at Link a moment longer.
"You're using logic on me," she finally muttered. "I hate it when you use logic on me."
"I know, dear," Link responded fondly.
As though on cue, there was the rattle and click of keys in the lock on the front door. Zelda turned, straightening, her hands going to her graying blonde hair, and Link stepped forward, sliding his arm around his wife's shoulder.
"It'll be fine," he murmured into her ear.
The front door opened and happy voices spilled into the foyer.
"Mom? Dad? Daph? We're here!"
Zelda hurried out of the sitting room and to the front door, her arms spread wide.
"Tetra! Welcome home!"
Their daughter's senior year of college was suiting her well, Link observed. Although she'd stopped growing years ago, there was something straighter and prouder in the way she carried herself, and her dark eyes— always intelligent— glittered with a newfound confidence.
"Hi Mom!" Tetra flung herself into Zelda's arms, squeezing her for a moment, then stepped back and repeated the same for Link, who had come up behind his wife. "Dad! It's good to be home."
"It's good to have you," Link said, heart warming and swelling at the feeling of his daughter in his arms. Goddesses, how he missed his children when they were gone. "Why don't you introduce us?"
"Right, right." Tetra peeled back, grinning. "This is my roommate Midna, who you've already met, and her brother, Dark. My boyfriend," Zelda added, looping her arm through the boy's elbow.
"Hullo, Mr. and Mrs. H. Thanks for having us. Hi, Daphnes," Midna said, giving a little wave. Tetra's roommate had the kind of intimidating good looks that young men went all gooey for, and Daphnes was no exception. He oozed forward, practically drooling, and Link swallowed a laugh.
"Hello again, Midna," Zelda said primly. Then she turned her attention to the young man. "And Dark, it's very nice to meet you at last. We've heard a lot about you."
"Hi," Dark said in a surprisingly soft voice. "Thanks. It's good to be here."
Link regarded the boy. While he appeared to have none of his sister's self-assurance, he did have similar striking light-and-dark coloring, and astonishing good looks. Link caught Tetra leaning against Dark, almost as though she was trying to bolster him, and remembered that Tet had said that the lad was shy.
"Come on in," Link said. "Daph, help me take their suitcases upstairs." And then, to Tetra, "Your mother made pirate cookies."
"Yes!" Tetra pumped the air with a fist, then looped her hand through Dark's and began dragging him to the kitchen. "C'mon. Mom's pirate cookies are the best."
As Link and Daphnes took the kids' bags upstairs, Link took a moment to glance askance at his son.
"You didn't mention you were interested in Midna," he said mildly.
"Pfft." Daphnes turned as red as an apple. "I'm not. She's just stupid good looking."
"Stupid good looking?" Link echoed. They shouldered into the guest room and deposited Midna's bags.
"Yeah. So good looking it makes you go all stupid. Duh."
Tetra's room was across the hall, and Link and Daph deposited Dark's bags there alongside Tetra's. Zelda hadn't been thrilled that the two were sharing a room, but they were already living together on campus, and Link had pointed out to her that if they tried to separate the two, Dark would just wind up sneaking into Tetra's room in the night anyway— just as Link had done when visiting Zelda at her parents' home nearly thirty years ago.
When Link and Daphnes arrived back downstairs, everyone had settled around the circular dining table and was tucking into Zelda's world-famous pirate cookies, as well as a pitcher of icy cold lemonade. The kids were discussing their itinerary: Midna and Dark were only in Windfall City for a week, and Tetra was determined that they should see everything "like a local."
"Dad," Tetra said as Link seated himself at the table, "are you doing a concert this week?"
"Yes," Link said. "The orchestra will be playing the Ballad of the Wind Fish on Wednesday night. We're bringing in a very famous soprano from Koholint. I can get you three tickets and bring you backstage if you'd like."
"That would be great," Tetra said brightly. "Dark's in the symphony, you know. He plays oboe."
"I didn't know," Link responded. He looked at Dark, impressed. "The oboe is a notoriously difficult instrument. What drew you to it?"
"I had asthma when I was in middle school," Dark said. "When we were in sixth grade, we had to choose between playing in the band, singing in choir, or doing art. I wanted to play the viola, but we didn't have a string orchestra, and I didn't want to sing or draw. I heard that the oboe was good if you couldn't breathe too deeply, so I took it up. And it stuck."
Link nodded along.
"Mr. H, what's it like to be an orchestra conductor?" Midna asked.
"Exciting and exhausting," Link said. "It's a job you have to be passionate about because you spend so much time in rehearsals and performances with the symphony, the ballet, the orchestra…" Link grinned. "It's not for the faint of heart."
"And what do you do, Mrs. Harkinian?" Dark asked, looking from Link to Zelda. "Tetra said you're in government…?"
"I work in the harbor permitting office," Zelda supplied. "I liaise between shipping officials, captains, and import/export regulators. Very dry stuff. What do you think you want to do after you graduate?"
The conversation stretched on, volleying back and forth. For the most part, Link watched. Zelda was trying (without much subtlety) to grill Dark; Dark was being desperately polite in return; Tetra kept trying to interject herself between the two of them; Midna was clearly enjoying the show; and Daphnes was trying very hard to not look like he was staring at Midna.
It reminded Link of how exhausting it was to be twenty-two, and how very glad he was that he wasn't that young anymore.
Eventually, the cookies were gone and the kids excused themselves: Tetra wanted to show Midna and Dark around, and Daphnes decided to help. When it looked like Zelda would trail along after them to keep peppering poor Dark with questions, Link grabbed his wife's arm.
"I'll help you clean up the kitchen," he said gently.
Zelda turned and scowled up at him, but didn't argue. Together, they collected the plates, empty glasses, and pitcher from the table, and loaded them into the dishwasher.
"I wish he was more forthcoming," Zelda muttered under her breath.
"He's shy and you're interrogating him," Link told her, equally quiet, trusting the sound of the water to cover their voices. "Take a deep breath. You've got a week to get his measure."
Zelda took the suggested deep breath, then deflated a little and shook her head.
"Our babies are growing up," she said. She sounded a little wry, a little sad. "Bringing home boyfriends, talking about graduating and beginning careers…"
"I know," Link said. He wiped his hands dry on a towel, then slid his arms around his wife's shoulders. "But you did a good job raising them. You have to trust that they'll put the knowledge you gave them to good use and make smart choices."
Zelda hugged Link for a moment, then said in his ear, "We did a good job. You were just as much a part of that."
"So I was," Link agreed mildly. "But I couldn't have done half as good a job without you by my side." To underscore the point, he leaned down to press a kiss to his wife's temple, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her skin.
"Ugh, gross. Get a room you two." Daphnes had popped his head into the door of the kitchen and was making a face. "It's going to be bad enough if I have to deal with Tet and Dark sneaking off to kiss in corners all week. I don't want to deal with it from my parents, too."
Zelda had stiffened at that. Then she shook her head ruefully. Link gave a low laugh.
"Was I as awful as he is when I was nineteen?"
"Probably," Zelda said. Then she slid her hand down Link's arm to tangle her fingers with his. He felt the weight of her wedding ring— given to her more than twenty five years ago and never taken off since then, not once— press against the place where his fingers joined his palm.
"We could always make it a game," Link suggested to his wife. "See who gets caught canoodling more. Them, or us."
"Oh, the kids would hate that," Zelda said, a wicked glint in her eye. "We'll have to threaten them with it if they start acting up. Deal?"
"Absolutely," Link agreed, and set out hand-in-hand with his wife to see what mischief his nearly-adult children would inevitably make.
Ta-da! A story about Link and Zelda in middle age with nearly-grown children, one of whom is bringing home a boyfriend.
And that's that! I'll plan to be back on Saturday, though again, since everything in my life is in flux right now, we'll see what actually happens. Until then, stay safe, stay inside, and WASH YOUR HANDS! Air smoochies to all, and to all a good night.