"Link?"
Just five more minutes, he wanted to say. He knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep, and that he did need to get up soon, but he nevertheless wanted a little extra time to just lie here in bed. Before she'd said his name he'd been starting to lose himself in remembering when she slept in his arms on the ship, and her voice had jolted him out of it. Link loved the sound of Mipha's voice, but at the same time he wanted to get back to imagining holding her. If he could just have that, then he'd get up cheerfully.
"Link, please, I know you're awake, and I... I need to talk to you..."
His eyes flew open. Mipha was sitting up, her tail over her shoulder as she stroked it and an unhappy look on her face. "What is it?" Link sat up hastily and laid his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?"
"Well, I... is it..." She stared down at her lap. "Are you... really sure about this... this portrait thing? Do you truly want it?"
"I do, yeah." Link nodded. "But I'll send the guy away if you don't."
"No, it's not that, I..." She closed her eyes. "You... you are sure he is able and willing to draw me?"
"Yeah. I explicitly asked people about that when I went looking for someone to commission for this, remember?" He squeezed her arm. "And I saw his portfolio, there's nothing to worry about there. There's no way I would pay someone who couldn't or didn't want to portray you right."
"I know." Mipha took a deep breath. "I know you wouldn't, I..."
"Then what's really bothering you?" Link moved his hand to the top of her head, running his fingers over her scales ever so lightly. "Tell me so I can help you."
"Well... this will sound so silly, but..." Mipha buried her face in her hands. "I cannot decide what to wear, and it is so stressful. I know it is vain and ridiculous, but... this is something that will be permanently committed to a canvas and hung up in your house, and..."
"Our house," he gently corrected her. "It's as much yours now as it is mine. And it's not vain or ridiculous." Link put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "I don't want to say it doesn't matter, because I know it does to you, but at the same time I also know you'll look great no matter what." He paused. "Does that make any sense?"
A muffled laugh. "Yes." Mipha lowered her hands a little. "Do you have any suggestions? Maybe you could help me..."
"Do you have anything specific in mind?" He brushed some hair out of his eyes. "I can help narrow it down."
There was a pause, and then she shook her head. "There are some that I considered, but I am just not sure about any of them. I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Link thought for a moment, his hand idly stroking her tail. "What about your wedding dress? Did you bring it with you?"
"I did, but..." Mipha blushed. "I may need your help putting it on, Gaddison and Kodah assisted me last time..."
"That's fine. If you want to wear it, anyway," he added. "You don't have to just because I suggested it."
"No, it is a good idea." She let her hands fall, revealing a shy smile. "It seems fitting, you know?"
"Yeah." Link laughed. "I guess that means I'll wear my wedding clothes too." He touched his hair. "What do you think, should I tie this back or leave it loose? I haven't been able to decide about that, to be honest—you're not the only one who's been indecisive, if that makes you feel better."
"It does. And I think you should leave it loose." Mipha reached up to run her fingers through his hair, and his breath hitched. "You wore it down on our wedding day, and I like it like this anyway."
That she liked anything about his appearance was enough to make his brain shut down for a few seconds. "Th-thanks, I..." He cleared his throat, heat filling his face. "We should probably go get breakfast so there's enough time to get dressed before he gets here."
They ate quickly, and then returned to their rooms to get ready. Going by Mipha's directions, Link helped her put the dress and veil on, which turned out to be an even more complicated and difficult process than he'd thought it would be. The irony of helping her get dressed when it was the opposite of what he fantasized about doing was outweighed by how close he got to be to her, his hands brushing her body in ways that kept his heart pounding and his breath hard to catch. And when they were finally done, it was all he could do not to gape at her.
Mipha turned away from him, though, and walked to the mirror to examine her reflection. "Hmm... it looks a bit different in the light of day, without these glowing..." She traced her fingers over the embroidery.
"It still looks..." Link swallowed. "It still looks beautiful." You always do.
Her blush was visible in the mirror. "Th-thank you... you had better get dressed now too, we don't have much time left..."
"Right, yeah." He crossed to his wardrobe and took out the carefully folded clothes he'd worn to their wedding, along with the sapphire circlet and the chain she'd given him. I'll have to give this back to her afterwards so she can adjust it and add it to the armor.
As he took his shirt off he heard the soft rustling of fabric; turning, he saw Mipha sitting on the settee at the end of the bed. Her arm rested on the back and her head was turned towards him, though she seemed to be staring at the wall, lost in thought. He gave himself a few seconds to let his eyes linger on her face, and then he turned back to finish dressing.
When he was done he joined her, handing Mipha his hairbrush; the night after she'd asked to be taught how to braid it for him, she'd shyly expressed her interest in brushing it for him too. It was hard not to laugh at her childhood fascination with his hair returning like this, but he'd held back his amusement and agreed.
Mipha stood up behind him so she could better reach; Link closed his eyes as she began gently brushing. It was such a small, simple thing, and yet it felt so good. The fabric of her sleeve skimmed his cheek, and he only barely restrained himself from grabbing her hand and kissing it.
His eyes flew open again when she reached down and took the circlet from his lap, and then turned his head so she could fit it on him. Mipha set it carefully on his forehead, adjusting it so the sapphire was centered, and then smoothed down his hair and made sure his bangs weren't obscuring the gem. "This is a lovely piece," she murmured, running her fingertips over the jewel's facets. "I am still surprised you managed to get this, and our rings, made on such short notice..."
"Well... I..." Link scrambled to come up with a plausible story. "I found a jeweler who was willing to put priority on my order if I paid him extra."
"That was quite the lucky find." Mipha smiled. "Now then, you look perfect, so shall we go wait for him?"
She moved aside so he could stand up; when Link offered her his arm, she took it and they left the bedroom again.
They were halfway down the stairs when the bell rang; the butler bustled in to answer it, and let the painter in. He was an older Sheikah man with a large pack strapped to his back and an easel tucked under his arm, who bowed as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Good day, Sir Link. And I presume this is your lovely bride?"
"Yes." His chest swelled with pride. "Pikango, this is my wife, Mipha. Mipha, this is Pikango. He'll be painting our portrait."
"It is my honor, Lady Mipha." Pikango bowed low to her. "I pray I can do you justice with my humble skills."
"Oh... I..." A fresh blush lit her face. "You are too kind..."
"Nonsense." He returned his attention to Link. "Now then, where would you prefer we embark on our artistic journey?"
"This way."
Link led the way to the drawing room, Mipha's arm still looped in his. They settled themselves on one of the couches together while Pikango set up his easel and arranged his supplies on a cloth he spread on the table. Once he was finished doing that, he glanced over at them. "Now, I'll start by warming up with practice sketches of you both, and if you like what you see, then we'll proceed. Are you ready?"
They assured him they were, and so he began. Link did his best to keep his face still as Pikango sketched. At last, several minutes later, he turned his sketchbook around to show them what he'd done so far.
"Oh!" Mipha was the first to react. "It looks exactly like you, Link!" She looked up at Pikango. "You are wonderfully talented, I assure you."
"Why thank you, Lady Mipha." His eyes darted to Link. "And? What is your own opinion?"
"Ah..." Link had to try not to frown as he stared at the sketch of himself. The likeness was as excellent as Mipha had said, but his expression left something to be desired. Do I really look that... severe? I guess it isn't a scowl or anything, but I still don't look happy. "It's... good, yeah..."
"Oh?" His white eyebrows went up. "Is there a problem with it, Sir Link? Have I portrayed you badly?"
"What? No, no, your work is great." Link shook his head. "It's just..." He glanced at the sketch again. "I guess I should've smiled, that's all."
"Oh, is that it?" Pikango relaxed. "Well, no fear, this is only a practice sketch after all! You can easily assume a different expression for the real thing!"
Link relaxed too. "That's good." I want to look happy in it. Not miserable or blank or... anything else but how I actually feel about her.
Several more minutes later, Pikango turned his sketchbook around again, displaying his drawing of Mipha. "And? What of this?"
"... It's perfect." And it was—the man had expertly drawn the lines and contours of her beautiful face, her fins, the curve of her neck and shoulders. Her lips seemed to be shaped into a small smile, adding to her loveliness. It may have been only a sketch, but all the same it was an uncannily good representation of her.
"Yes... I..." Mipha's voice shook, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. "I agree... it looks wonderful..."
"Now it is you who are too kind!" Pikango sounded pleased. "Well, then! Get yourselves into whatever pose you want, and expressions too, and I'll begin when you're ready."
Link slipped his arm around Mipha, leaning his head slightly against hers, and resting his hand atop her clasped ones. Just like earlier his first instinct was to assume a neutral expression, the way he'd been trained to do when standing in line before his instructors, commanders, and the King himself, but he forced himself to relax and forget that. Instead, he filled his head with the love he felt for Mipha and let it seep into his face, his lips curving in a soft smile.
Time ticked by slowly as Pikango worked and they sat there; a short way into it, he paused in his work and glanced around his easel with a curious look on his face. "Lady Mipha, may I ask what sort of thread that is in your gown? For the embroidery, that is."
"Oh, it was dyed with luminous stones." Mipha glanced down at herself. "It looks much better in the dark than it does now."
"I see." He stroked his chin. "There is a particular paint that is made with those stones and would allow me to replicate the effect... however, it is very expensive, so—"
"I'll cover the cost," Link interrupted. "After we're done with today's session, just tell me how much you need and I'll provide the rupees."
His bushy eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." Link nodded. "I want this to do justice to her, and it wouldn't be fair to expect you to shoulder the cost."
"That's very generous of you." Pikango bowed his head. "My thanks, Sir Link."
I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that. "Don't worry about it."
"Link, you don't have to do that," Mipha whispered as Pikango returned to work.
"Yes, I do." He squeezed her hands. "Without that paint it won't do justice to your dress, and like I said, I want it to. Don't you think it should be fully accurate?"
"I suppose, but..." She sighed. "I am sorry. I know you want the best for this, but I cannot help but feel guilty that it is costing you extra money because of what I chose to wear."
"Please don't worry about it," he murmured, running his other hand over her arm. "I can easily afford it, and it's worth it to have you portrayed correctly."
"You..." Mipha fell silent for a moment. "... Thank you..."
At the end of the three hour session Pikango packed up his gear, and they walked him back to the door. Mipha went ahead to their bedroom to begin taking off the dress, while Link stayed behind. "How much does that paint cost?"
"Hmm, well, I haven't bought it before, so..." Pikango tapped his chin. "I'm honestly not sure. Why don't I just go buy it, and then I'll bring you the bill for it?"
"... No, I have a better idea. Hang on." Link hurried upstairs to his desk, grabbing a few sheets of paper and a pouch of rupees before returning downstairs. "Here." He pulled out a handful of gold rupees and dumped them into Pikango's hand when he held it out. "Take this."
"Wh-what?" His eyes bulged. "That—even I know that's far more than the paint costs, are you—"
"Shh." Link glanced over his shoulder. "It's not just for the paint. Could I..." He lowered his voice. "I'd like to keep that sketch you did of her, if that's okay... if you'd like more money for it than this, I don't mind, just tell me."
"The sketch of your wife? Sure thing." Pikango set his easel down and rummaged through his pack for the sketchbook. He flipped through, and carefully tore out the drawing of Mipha he'd done earlier. "You really want to pay that much for just a sketch, though?"
Link took the picture, his heart fluttering as he looked at it. "Absolutely." He glanced up. "Is it enough? I don't want to underpay you for your work."
"More than enough for the paint and a little warm-up sketch." Pikango shouldered his pack again and tucked his easel under his arm. "You enjoy that. See you in two weeks?"
"Yeah." Link opened the door for him. "Thanks again."
Pikango saluted him. "My honor, sir."
He let himself stare at the sketch a little more, and then slipped it between the sheets of paper and headed up to the bedroom so he could finally change too. Mipha was still working on that herself, and Link had to force himself not to watch her, to keep his imagination in check as she removed each layer of her gown. It felt painfully like a redo of their wedding night, when he'd wished so desperately to help her undress and take her to bed. He still wanted that.
Sometimes—like that moment in the inn during their trip to Mount Lanayru—the way she'd look at him, or act, gave him hope that his feelings were returned. Or at least were starting to be. And his confidence would tiptoe up the slope a little. But then his doubts would creep in again and back down it slid. It was like being on a see-saw at a children's park, and he was tired of it.
Unfortunately, his frustration with himself had yet to translate into the ability to broach the subject with her. Or even just to give her more physical affection. The fear of making things awkward for her and jeopardizing the friendship they were still working on held him back.
I want her to look at me the way I look at her when she's not paying attention. I want to be touched intimately and kissed, by her and no one else. We touch each other casually all the time, but I want so much more. I want us to share ourselves completely in that bed. I hate myself for wanting it so badly, but nothing I do seems to ease the ache for her that I feel every day. If I could just be sure that I have anything to offer her that she'd want, then I'd make a move, but... ugh. I just don't know. Is my mind playing tricks on me? It's so hard to tell. I feel paralyzed sometimes and I don't know what to do.
He ran his fingers over the chain, the metal cool beneath his fingers. It was a beautiful thing, crafted by Mipha herself; parting with it, even temporarily, was a wrench. No choice, though. Link gathered it up carefully and clasped it to his heart for a moment, closing his eyes, and then walked over to where Mipha was putting on a fresh sash.
"Hey, Mipha?"
She turned. "Yes, Link?"
"Here." He held out the chain. "You'll need this, right? To make the armor?"
"Well... yes, but..." A thoughtful expression came over her face. "I do not need it just yet, attaching it will be one of the final steps. And you are wearing it for our portrait, so you might as well hang onto it for now."
"Oh... right... yeah." Link swallowed down his relief at not having to relinquish it just yet. "Good point."
"Mm." Mipha put a bangle on one of her wrists. "So... you are going to that meeting at the castle later, correct?"
"Yeah. You gonna be fine here while I'm out?"
"Of course." She smiled. "Do not worry about me. I shall continue my quest to figure out how to make your armor allow you to scale waterfalls."
"Right, yeah." Link pulled the hair tie off his wrist and bound his hair back. "How's that going?"
"Slowly." Mipha sighed. "But I think I am making progress on the translation. I hope. Once I know what I need to do, I can truly begin crafting it. Assuming I have what I need here..."
"We can send away for anything you don't already have." Link shrugged. "Anyway, I'll try not to get home too late. I don't want to miss having dinner together."
Mipha laid a hand on his arm. "I would prefer you be here for that too, but it will not be your fault if you cannot, so don't worry about it."
"Well, don't forget, I hate those meetings." He made a face. "If I could, I'd just resign."
"I know." She slipped her arms around him and hugged him briefly. "Come, let us go have lunch. I know you must be starving by now..."
His laughter echoed in the hall as she tugged him along. "You know me so well..."
Mipha rubbed her eyes and sighed. She'd promised herself that she would make actual progress on the translation today, make some kind of breakthrough and figure out at least some of the specifics of what she'd need. But it was proving difficult to get anything done at all. Whether it was because of this section of the book being particularly hard to translate or her mind was just too distracted to properly concentrate she didn't know. Though she suspected it was the latter.
I cannot keep from thinking about that portrait. About the session. About Link. When he first told me of the idea, I admit I was skeptical. It is not something we Zora do, so the very concept was foreign to me. But he seemed to really want it, so I agreed despite my trepidation. My foremost concern was that there wouldn't be an artist willing to or experienced with drawing Zoras. All that has been laid to rest, thankfully. I am not just relieved, but confident that I will be portrayed with respect and accuracy.
I cannot deny it was startling to see myself committed to the page like that, though, even if it was only a sketch. Link reassured me that he'd sought out an artist who could do that, but that didn't truly prepare me for it. Seeing ourselves on the full canvas, hanging on our wall... that will be quite the sight to behold.
And oh, what a strangely thrilling thing to think of this house as being ours. It has been an adjustment this week to rid myself of the feeling of being a guest in Link's house. A lovely one, but an adjustment all the same. We have been kept busy with personal errands, meeting people, and seeing the sights, but every night we dine together in our house, in our dining room. Just us. It has helped me to settle in, and I think Link is learning to appreciate this place more, now that he is not living alone. Honestly, I do see his point of view on that. I know now that he is more fond of the Domain than Hyrule Kingdom, and even though this house is not as big as some, I think I would be lonely too if I had to reside here all on my own. It's become clear to me that he has few friends here, and none of the ones he does have are as close to him as we always were. Even if he would rather be married to someone else, it must still be a relief to have me here to keep him company.
Stretching, Mipha rose from the table she was seated at—one that Link had bought her as a surprise before their wedding, knowing she'd need a space to work on the armor—and walked over to the window. She'd chosen the library, with its view of their modest back gardens, to set her worktable in, partly for days just like today. One of the servants had left this particular window open to let in fresh air, and Mipha stood beside it, reveling in the crisp afternoon breeze that teased her with the sweet scents of the spring flowers blooming outside. A couple of the gardeners Link employed were tending to the garden now, trimming hedges and rosebushes and sweeping fallen leaves off the narrow stone paths. It was so much smaller than the one at the governor's mansion in Goponga, but she found herself reminded of it all the same. Her own wedding bouquet had been made from flowers from Linebeck's garden and hothouse; a gift to the royal couple, he'd called it, insisting that they should go nowhere else for such a thing when he was more than capable of sparing some blooms for the occasion.
At Gaddison and Kodah's urging, she'd adhered to a Hylian tradition and preserved some of her bouquet flowers in a heavy book that was currently on display in their bedroom. What she'd eventually do with them she didn't know, but it was nice to have a memento of that day. Hylians did have some nice traditions, she had to concede. And this portrait business was turning out to be a pleasant one too, if today's session had been any indication. It certainly was promising, at the very least. Her nerves about it were still high, but now it was tempered with an eagerness to see the final product.
Especially since I have no idea what Link will look like in it. He seemed so distressed about that sketch and his expression in it. It's true that he looked very serious, and that obviously isn't what he wanted conveyed. I couldn't look up at him while we were posed, so I don't know what is more to his liking—it will be very interesting to see.
Dwelling on it wasn't getting any work done, however. Mipha let herself watch the gardeners at their work a little longer, and then turned to look at the table. As much as she needed to make some progress, she had to reluctantly acknowledge that perhaps today just wasn't the day for it, as frustrating as that was. Wanting to get things done and being able to were two different things, after all. And it wasn't as though she had a deadline, anyway—the wedding had come and gone, and there was no need to rush production of the armor.
It... would be nice if he could wear it in our portrait, though. A pang went through her. If he'd been able to wear it when we married each other. He would have, if this had all gone as it was meant to, as we promised it would. He would've come back to me with the opal, and our engagement would've lasted long enough for me to craft the armor for him for the ceremony, and everything would've been perfect. But we do not live in anything resembling a perfect world, so that was off the table, I suppose. A foolish childhood dream doomed to be unfulfilled. In the way I wanted it, at least.
Shaking off her gloomy thoughts, Mipha returned to the table and neatly tucked her notes into the book to mark her place before closing it. The staff had been instructed not to disturb her work here, and she didn't think they'd do anything, but she did like to leave it tidy after she'd been there.
Her feet carried her out of the library and into the hall, and then she stopped. All she knew was that she was giving up on her translation efforts for now, opting to continue them when her mind was more able to focus. What activity she should occupy herself with in the meantime, though, eluded her.
Perhaps it would benefit me to go outside and truly get some fresh air... I have been penned up inside all day, first with the portrait sitting and then in the library. It might be a good idea to refresh myself in this way.
Having decided on her course of action, Mipha fetched out the bag where she kept her things necessary for outings into the city, rupees chief among them. She had a mind to visit some shops and procure a few more items for Sidon, at the very least, to at least try and make good on the promises she and Link had made to him. A ghost of a smile passed over her face as she reflected on the things they'd already bought him. Link had demonstrated his own care for her brother by taking an active part in selecting gifts for him, and had even written short letters of his own. His love for her family and joy at being a part of it was so genuine, and it touched her deeply. He'd spoken more than once of wanting to have a good relationship with Sidon, and being willing to patiently work at improving things. Sidon's childish resentment didn't bother him, at least not in the way that others might've let it affect them. No, Link understood all too well where Sidon was coming from, and felt guilt over the role he felt he played in causing him pain, despite that none of it was in his control.
At least Father understands, especially as he was a part of the decision-making that led to this. Mipha closed the door behind herself and set off down the street. He too will do his part to help Sidon come around, and the rest will be accomplished by time. He is so young, after all, and cannot be expected to have an adult's grasp of the situation. As he grows, though, wisdom will come, and I do not see his present feelings lasting. Even now he is beginning to warm to Link, a fact that sets my heart at ease. That Link himself loves them both does my spirit no end of good as well. There are so many miserable families marred by strife, I could not bear it if we were one of them. Certainly, being married to a lesser man would guarantee such a thing. But Link is a precious gift, and his lack of romantic interest in me is no flaw, simply bad luck. I will not hold it against him, no matter how selfishly I yearn for his love.
It really was a pleasant afternoon: warm and nearly cloudless, with a cool breeze that kept the temperature in check. As strange as it was to be roaming the city alone for the first time, there was also an element of excitement to it. If she wanted to, if she saw something that caught her eye, she could buy something to surprise Link with when he got home. That would be fun.
The market in the central plaza was far from the only place in Castle Town where shopping was done; there were countless stores lining the streets leading to it, offering a wide variety of goods. Mipha lingered in front of a boutique window, staring with interest at the many fabrics on display inside. Some of them seemed like they would make for lovely new sashes to wear, assuming that the owner was willing to cater to Zoras. For a few minutes she wavered, considering going inside and asking, but ultimately moved on. Another day.
From store to store she went, entering some and passing by others. She bought a few things for Sidon, a pair of earrings for Link, and, on impulse, a diary and pen for herself. It'd been years since she kept one, but now that she was living in a new city, with a husband and so many things to see and do, it sounded like a good idea. Recording her experiences would help her to recall them later, to relive good memories, and would be a private place to note down thoughts and feelings she couldn't express otherwise. Like how her body had reacted to Link tying his hair back earlier, the motion pulling his shirt up enough to give her a tantalizing glimpse of his well-toned stomach.
If only he felt the same way about seeing me unclothed as I do about seeing him that way...
Not long after that purchase Mipha found herself drawn to the most unusual shop she'd seen yet. Unlike so many of the other buildings in Castle Town this one had a red roof, allowing it to easily stand out in the sea of blue. Red and white curtains had been attached to the outside of the building itself, and a huge sign above the door bore the shop's name: The Happy Masquerade Shop. Much like the clothing store from earlier it was something that she should save for another day, but Mipha's curiosity was too great.
A small bell over the door rang as she entered; a smiling man deep in conversation with a cluster of young women glanced over, but then returned his attention to them. There were a few other customers milling around, but Mipha chose to ignore them in favor of marveling at the wares on display. Tables laden with neatly arranged masks were interspersed with mannequins wearing elaborate costumes, and all of them were so visually striking that it was almost hard to decide where to look first.
How much this reminds me of Goponga's festival! Indeed, a great many of the masks had been made in that particular style, just like the one her mysterious companion had worn. Others were more fanciful, or outright creepy—there were masks designed to look like various monsters, or figures from legend. The costumes were lovely too, and Mipha looked longingly at some of them.
What would Link say, if he saw me dressed in such finery? If I wore a mask like one of these pretty ones here? The man I met that night claimed to be captivated by me... would Link feel the same? He has complimented me a few times, such as when he first saw me in my wedding gown... but I do not know if it means he finds me attractive. My heart yearns for him to gaze at me the way that other man did, to give me such stirring and sincere praise. If he decided he wanted to court me, I would be lost in an instant. Alas, his heart is surely occupied by another. If I did not believe so I would attempt to win it. But I must respect his feelings, and allow him to grieve privately for his loss before I try any such thing. If I have any chance at all with him, I must not ruin it by not giving him enough time to let go of what he has given up in marrying me. This is so delicate, and I need to proceed carefully.
Footsteps caught her attention, and Mipha turned to see the smiling man approaching. "Hello, hello!" He waved. "Pardon me for not greeting you sooner, but I was quite occupied by other customers."
"That is fine, no need to apologize." Mipha smiled back. "You have a lovely shop."
"Thank you, thank you!" He clasped his hands together eagerly. "All our products are handmade, and can easily be adjusted to fit a Zora such as yourself. We cater to all races, not just Hylians."
"I see." Her smile grew. "That is good to know."
"Oh, yes." He glanced at the mannequin she stood beside. "Do you have anything particular in mind that I can assist you with? Perhaps for an upcoming party you wish to throw or attend? The social season is coming up, so I imagine we'll be very busy again shortly."
"Oh?" Mipha's eyes traveled to one of the masks displayed on the wall, a yellow one that vaguely resembled a fox. "I admit I have not been in this city for very long... are masquerade balls popular here?"
He nodded. "Oh yes, quite. Perhaps you've heard of the Festival of the Goddesses in Goponga? It was that that spurred their popularity here some years back, when the nobility decided they were interested in adopting the format for their own parties. Very, hmm, fortuitous for one such as I." His smile didn't budge. "It finally enabled me to upgrade my store from a sad little stall in the plaza to this building."
"That is lucky, yes."
There is one coming up some weeks from now, at the palace, and since Link is still very much a knight of this realm we are required to attend. Her blood warmed. Perhaps I shall have my chance then, to capture some of the magic of that night with him rather than with a stranger. An exciting prospect, to say the least.
"Very much so." He stood in silence for a moment as she continued to browse, and then spoke up again. "Are there any that have caught your eye?"
"Several, yes." This man with his perpetual smile was a bit odd, to be sure, but there was no denying the quality of his products. "And you are correct, I have been invited to a masquerade ball, so I am in need of your wares. But I would prefer to come back another day with my husband, so that we may coordinate our purchases."
"Understandable!" He rubbed his hands together. "As I have said, we would be more than happy to adjust anything in here to fit a Zora, so if he is one as well then you needn't worry about that."
Mipha shook her head. "My husband is a Hylian, but I myself am grateful that you are willing to accommodate me. Not every shop would be, I'm afraid."
"More fools they, for..." He trailed off, his smile transforming into a look of shock. "Oh my! Are you, then, the Zora princess who married one of our venerable king's foster sons?"
"Y-yes, I—I am." Mipha restrained herself from reaching for her tail. "Am—am I truly that well-known?"
"Well, as a shopkeeper you do hear things drifting by." He stroked his chin. "And a political marriage to one of our foreign allies is quite the conversation starter, you must realize."
"That—that is true..." Mipha looked down, her face burning.
"Beyond that, I can't say I pay much attention to the gossip of the day." He shrugged. "In any case, it's an honor to have you frequent my humble shop. I do look forward to your return with your husband."
"Thank you." Mipha managed a smile somehow. "I promise I shall return soon with him, and we will buy some of these lovely things."
I suppose he has a point, she thought as she exited the shop. Anonymity is not something I can realistically expect anywhere, given my status, and particularly now that I have married Link. He himself is not so prominent among high society, at least not yet... but the circumstances of our marriage, as well as our marriage in itself, have elevated him. Not to mention that we will soon begin making appearances during this social season that that man mentioned, at the castle and perhaps even elsewhere. I am not sure how to feel about that.
By now her legs were beginning to ache after so much walking and shopping, so Mipha seized the opportunity for a bit of rest the moment it arose. It presented itself in the form of a cute little tearoom that she gratefully entered. Soon enough she was seated at a table not far from the window, with a steaming cup of jasmine tea and a freshly baked scone studded with wildberries and chopped nuts. Relief seeped through her as she took her first bite and sip, reveling in simply being able to sit and enjoy some refreshment.
All this, and I haven't even entered the main square yet. Depending on how I feel after this break, I may or may not save that for another day. Mipha took another sip of the fragrant tea, breathing in its floral aroma as she stared out at the people passing by. Most were on foot, but there were carriages as well, and even some people riding simply a horse. Castle Town, at any hour of the day, seemed to never be devoid of activity. Link was right, there are a great many things to experience here. I can understand why he prefers the Domain—and I do too, of course—but I find this place is beginning to grow on me as well. Which I am glad for, as I would hate to be miserable in the city where I must spend half the year.
She was halfway through her scone when a shadow fell over her table; Mipha glanced up, but the source, a petite Hylian girl, had already turned her back and was making her way to someone else. A frown grew on her face, deepening as she saw the girl leave what looked like some sort of pamphlet on the other table and then move on. A glance down revealed that one had been left for her as well, resting beside her plate. Mipha set down her scone and picked up the paper.
"RUMOR MILL!" said the printing at the top, in a large font that dominated most of the page. Below, in smaller type, was "By the one and only Traysi, gossip-monger extraordinaire". Her interest somewhat piqued, Mipha began reading the column just below.
"Greetings, loyal readers! And if you're new to this publication, remember that I'm your best source for news and gossip in the kingdom. If you're interested in keeping up with all the juicy goings-on in Hyrule Kingdom, then you've come to the right place.
"News has been a little slow lately, I'll admit. But never fear! With spring in full bloom, soon there are going to be rumors and delicious tidbits sprouting up like weeds. The nobility is going to be having all their parties soon, and you KNOW what that means.
"But I'm not just here to tease you with promises of gossip to come, oh no! Have I got some NEWS for you! Obviously, everyone who hasn't been living under a rock knows about our own King Rhoam arranging a political marriage between one of his foster sons and the princess of Zora's Domain."
Mipha froze, her eyes widening and her heart pounding. This silly little paper was talking about her! Her marriage to Link wasn't just a "conversation starter" as the salesman had put it, but fodder for someone's gossip publication. Worse, everyone else in the tearoom had a copy by now too; glancing around, Mipha could see that several people were engrossed in reading it. Her stomach churned. No one was looking at her, as far as she could tell, but knowing they were all reading about her nevertheless made her scales itch. Despite her better instincts, she read on.
"And what a hot topic it's been ever since our wise king announced what was up. We'd ALL been afraid of war with the Zoras, but His Majesty in his infinite wisdom nipped that little idea in the bud when he came up with the brilliant idea of the marriage. And then, of course, he shocked everyone by picking his youngest and least well-connected son. I don't mind telling you that some of my sources among the nobility—left anonymous to protect MY identity—were in quite the tizzy when that happened. A common country knight marrying a princess? That should be reserved for children's stories, I've heard it said!"
Mipha's mouth tightened, her eyes narrowing. Something about the way Rhoam was glowingly praised here rankled her, despite that she knew it was a smart idea to speak well of the king in his own country. Perhaps because her own father didn't even merit a mention—the marriage hadn't been his idea, true, but if he hadn't agreed it wouldn't have happened. Maybe it was petty of her, but still. And to see proof that Link had been disparaged behind his back for being chosen as her groom rankled her even more.
"Of course, I hold no opinion either way myself, aside from feeling that it makes for interesting gossip. And since that's what I LIVE for, I'm all for anything that gives me a reason to get up in the morning!
"In any case, the newlyweds are freshly arrived in our fair capital, after having wed in Goponga and spending a honeymoon period in Zora's Domain. Which has set many a tongue wagging! The royal couple have been seen a few times around town, but not at any parties yet. No surprise there, given that the social season isn't in full swing yet. So nothing on that front for now. But! That doesn't mean there isn't anything to talk about!
"You see, I've got at least one source claiming that our low-born knight actually has a HIGH-RANKED paramour, whom he was forced to give up on when King Rhoam selected him to marry the Zora Princess. Sounds hard to believe, I know, but some women of the court REALLY go in for those classic tales of ladies and their knights and that oh so tasty forbidden love, so I can see it happening. If it's true, then this political marriage is one of those in name only shams. Uh oh! Hope that doesn't hurt the alliance! I don't know any more than this, so I'll keep you posted. In other news..."
Mipha set the paper down. The remnants of her tea were cold by now, and the scone tasted like ash in her mouth. Unlike the tea, though, she was hot all over, her hands shaking and her heart beating far too fast to be comfortable. Bile roiled in her. The happy thoughts she'd entertained of attending the masked ball with Link and winning his attentions—of being able to try and secure his heart at all—felt so distant now. Distant and foolish.
It... is one thing to assume that he must have had someone else he wished to marry. It's quite another to see proof in black and white. This Traysi has no solid evidence, and may even be lying about her source... but it remains that people are talking. That there are whispers about Link preferring another. I...
… I do not know what to say. Even inside my own head, I find myself stumped and speechless. My thoughts are a blank.
If only my emotions could be.
Avoiding the eyes of everyone else in the tearoom, Mipha gathered up her things and left. She briefly considered leaving the copy of Rumor Mill there, but in the end she took it with her. Better to throw it away—or burn it—at home, rather than leaving it for someone else to read. Another stranger to influence with tales of her loveless marriage. It wouldn't stop the spread of the gossip, or even slow it, yet even so she felt better controlling this one thing.
Under the circumstances, she was relieved to find that Link wasn't back yet when she got home.
I cannot be angry with him. If anything, I feel sorrow for him, despite that my heart jealously yearns for his and wishes he would love me alone. I have worried so about his feelings about losing his choice of wife, after all, and this is confirmation that I was right to do so. But... at the same time I am not ready to face him, either. Oh, Lord Jabu, please let the meeting go on until I can compose myself enough to see him...
Link leaned against the wall and rubbed his temples. A headache was beginning to fester there, thanks to the long, boring, and occasionally irritating meeting. Despite that he technically outranked all of these people now—one of the few instances in which he'd actually be willing to acknowledge his own status—he was still required as a knight of the realm to attend these meetings. Which meant, among other things, listening to Sir Gaebora ramble on endlessly, taking forever to get to each and every point he made. And the route to said points always seemed to involve a truly aggravating number of loops and detours and long pauses. It sure didn't help when his fellow knights so frequently interrupted, causing the old man to start all over again. Often from the beginning of whatever tangent he'd been on.
Today had been even worse than usual. Since it was the first one he'd attended since getting back, Gaebora had felt the need to catch him up on every mind-numbing thing he'd missed while he was busy getting married and enjoying his honeymoon. Bad enough in itself, but the interruptions had been worse than ever, and a good deal of it had included snide remarks about his marriage and poor him, stuck with a Zora. More than once he'd nearly started a fight when they insulted Mipha in some way, but his desire to get out of the meeting and get home to her had just barely kept him restrained.
Still, the rage that continued to boil inside him had done nothing to stave off the headache, and had predictably made it worse. Link forced himself to relax his jaw, rubbing it in an effort to relieve the soreness borne of gritting his teeth almost constantly throughout the damnable meeting. His stomach growled, despite that the events of the afternoon had all but killed his appetite, and with his other hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Fuck. What a huge waste of time. I remembered why I hated them, but it'd been long enough, I guess, that I forgot just how much. And what did I even get out of it besides this headache? I could've been doing literally anything else and it would've been a better use of my time. Even a nap. He pushed himself away from the wall and resumed walking. At least then I wouldn't have had to listen to a bunch of assholes denigrating my marriage and my wife. Ugh. I just want to go home and see her. That'll make me feel better.
He'd almost made it to the front door when the last voice he wanted to hear rang out behind him. "Well, well... if it isn't the little usurper."
Link froze. His instincts were screaming at him to turn around, turn around, don't keep your back to him, but his body wouldn't budge for several horrible seconds. Finally, though, he did manage it, forcing his expression and voice into neutrality. "Astor. Long time no see."
Astor's eyes narrowed. He took a step forward, leaning in in an obvious attempt to intimidate him with his taller stature. "That is all you have to say for yourself? You steal what is mine, and now you can't even remember how to bow to your betters?"
"Oh, I haven't forgotten that." Link shrugged, his light tone a stark contrast with his pounding heart and urge to run. "I think it's slipped your mind that I'm a Prince Consort now, though, which I believe outranks you." There it was: the other situation in which he didn't mind acknowledging his change in status.
And it was worth it—Astor's expression transformed into one of barely contained rage. "Only because you robbed me of what rightfully should have been mine!" He moved even closer, his eyes blazing. "How does an upstart from a farming village keep getting handed things he doesn't deserve? Bad enough to be seen as equally worthy of a fosterage by the king but now, to be given the hand of a foreign princess in a prestigious and pivotal marriage... it defies all sense! How were you able to wrest it from me?"
Link kept his face blank. "I don't know. You'll have to ask His Majesty about that, I can't speak for him."
"The hell you can't!" Astor snarled. He all but dove at him, grabbing Link's shirt and shaking him. "You know something! Tell me! What in the name of all the Goddesses possessed him to be so fickle? Tell me!"
"Get your hands off me!" Link grabbed Astor's wrists and twisted hard before shoving him back, making him stumble on the scarlet carpeting. For all that Astor was older and several inches taller, he lacked the physical strength that Link's years of training had given him. He took a step back himself, breathing hard. "Any answers you want, you'll have to ask His Majesty for. Though it won't change anything." He lifted a hand to rub his own wrist, deliberately putting his wedding ring in full view.
"Insolent whelp!" His sulfur-colored eyes blazed. "You—you are nothing! Nobody! What makes you so arrogant as to believe you deserve what you have? I am of noble blood! I have Goddess-given talent! All that you have is rightfully mine! She belongs to me!"
Link's jaw clenched so hard it hurt. "She is no one's property. She may be my wife, but I don't own her any more than you would if you'd been chosen."
"I was chosen!" Astor's hands curled into fists. "The king announced it! And then a day later, with no explanation whatsoever, he changed his mind and selected you! Why? It makes no sense!" He let out a positively unhinged laugh. "Fickle lies the head that wears the crown!"
"I'm sure you're frustrated. But that's an issue you have with him." Link folded his arms across his chest. "Leave me out of it."
"You are at the center of it!" His teeth bared, Astor stepped towards Link again. "It cannot be a coincidence that the king changed his mind right after you got back from your trip to your backwater hometown. You did something to make him choose you instead. Tell me what it was!"
"Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you," Link said icily. "Not that it would matter, anyway. His Majesty made his decision, and he's not foolish enough to jeopardize his alliance with King Dorephan by putting an end to a marriage that already exists and is approved of by both monarchs."
"How..." His breath hissed out between his clenched teeth. "How can they both approve of low-born filth such as you? I already knew the Zora were backwards religious freaks, but I didn't realize they were this bad. Has King Dorephan gone senile?"
"Keep my father in law's name out of your disgusting mouth." His voice shook with barely contained anger. "Is this the kind of attitude you think either of them would appreciate? That Mipha would want to be married to? The alliance is only as strong as the marriage, and she would never be happy with you."
"You believe that matters?" Astor's eyes gleamed and he began to laugh again. "How naive you are! It is my right to be married to her. Mine! My rank, my birth, my connections—all are superior to yours! I was the only correct choice there ever was!" He swiped his arm through the air, sending sparks flying from his hand; Link's scar itched worse than ever at the sight, and he fought the urge to back away, not wanting to show his fear. "You deserve nothing, and have stolen my destiny from me. The king made a mistake in changing course, and he will soon—"
"I will soon what?"
Link instantly fell to one knee and bowed his head as Rhoam loomed over them, though he did get a satisfying glimpse of Astor going even paler than he was already. "Y-your Majesty..." Astor said in a strangled voice, turning slowly.
"Astor." Quiet anger shimmered in Rhoam's eyes as he stared him down, his expression severe. "Would you care to explain your insolence towards your liege?"
"I... I..." He suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words, and Link had to hide a smirk.
"Ah, but perhaps this isn't the place." He exhaled sharply. "You and I shall discuss this privately." Rhoam glanced over at Link. "Link, you are dismissed. Go home."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Link rose, bowed, and turned to make his exit. He looked back over his shoulder at Astor, though, and kept looking back every minute or so as he walked through the castle grounds to the gates. The sun was setting, the sky ablaze with shades of red and ocher and palest salmon pink, the few clouds of the day having settled over the crimson orb sinking ever lower in the west. It was quiet out here, the normally busy and bustling castle grounds all but deserted save for the guards and the occasional servant on some errand or other.
Goddess, he hoped he wasn't too late to have dinner with Mipha. As upset as his stomach was right now, missing a meal with her would only make it worse. That would be the last straw on a day that had already gone so horribly wrong. The happiness of the morning, of seeing her in her wedding dress again and getting a glimpse of how Pikango would draw her in their portrait, felt so distant it was laughable, in a very bitter way.
I didn't need this. I didn't need any of this. I just... I just wanted to go home and spend time with her. Why did I have to have the bad luck to run into him of all people? All that did was confirm that I was right to go to Rhoam and insist he choose me instead. I want to throw up just thinking about Mipha being married to that scumbag.
Only when he was inside his own house did he stop constantly glancing behind him. Link shut the door and leaned his back against it, closing his eyes. His heart was still hammering in his chest, his breathing erratic, and now that he was home his knees threatened to give out under him. The walk back was a complete blur, and part of him still wasn't sure he hadn't been followed; the urge to look out the windows and make sure Astor wasn't out there rose up to choke him, and if he'd been able to move at all he would've given in.
"Sir Link?"
He opened his eyes. Chudley, his butler, was standing there looking vaguely concerned. "I—yeah? Is there something wrong?"
"No, I merely..." He coughed. "Will you be eating in the dining room now that you have returned? I can summon the staff back to the kitchen, if you wish."
Link's heart sank. "What—I mean—Mipha, did she—"
He shook his head. "Your wife ate early and retired to bed, saying she felt unwell. What do you require?"
"Nothing, I'll just..." Link rubbed his face. "I'll fix something for myself. Let everyone rest."
"As you wish."
Afterwards Link wouldn't remember what he ate. Only that it was tasteless, and that he had to go slowly so as to keep it all down. When he was done he cleaned up and then headed upstairs, his nerves still in a shambles.
Mipha was sitting in bed when he opened the door; she didn't look up from the book she was writing in. "Hello, Link," she said, sounding so subdued that it made him recoil.
Fuck. Fuck, now I've hurt her by being late... as if this day needed to get worse.
"Hey. I..." His voice wobbled. "I'm sorry... sorry I'm..."
Now she did look up, concern writ large on her face. "Link? What's wrong?"
"I..." Link covered his eyes with one hand, his body starting to shake. All the pain and fear and horror of the day when Astor had burned him was crashing down on him again, crushing him under its weight. The scar itched and tingled, and it was all he could do not to claw at it until it bled. "The meeting ran late, I'm sorry... and then I... on the way out, I ran into..."
Before he could finish Mipha had flung herself out of bed and was standing close to him, touching his cheek. "You ran into who?"
"The guy that..." He swallowed hard. "The one that burned me. Remember? He still hates me, and..." His throat closed up, blocking the flow of words he would've stumbled on anyway. Now didn't feel like the time for explaining that Astor had been Rhoam's first choice, even if he'd had any idea how to explain what part he'd played in things changing. "I know it's ridiculous, but..."
"No. No, it isn't."
Mipha pulled him into her arms and held him tightly; the tears he was trying to keep in started falling almost immediately, and he shuddered, wrapping his arms around her and clinging to her as he silently wept. He could feel himself falling apart, and he hated it. Somehow he'd held himself together while he faced down Astor, but here, safe at home and in the embrace of the one he loved, his composure was shattering into pieces. His body had recovered—albeit permanently disfigured—from Astor's attack, but every time he so much as saw the man the trauma of that day re-awoke in his mind.
"Let it out," Mipha whispered as she stroked his hair. "You are safe here. I will never let anyone harm you."
"I'm sorry," Link managed, his voice thick and raw. "I just... I just wanted to come home to you, and... and now you're..."
"Shh, no, no." Mipha continued stroking his hair. "Here, let's get you changed, and then we'll go to bed."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Alright."
Having her pull away ached, but then she took his hand and led him over to his wardrobe. Link wiped at his eyes and then pulled out clothes to sleep in. Mipha helped him lift his shirt off; her fingers brushed the scar, and he jerked away from her with a gasp.
"Link, what—did I hurt you?" Her eyes were round with worry and horror. "I am so sorry..."
"No, you didn't, it's just..." He looked away. "You shouldn't have to touch such an ugly thing, I... I'm sorry, I know it's gross..."
Without saying anything at first, Mipha moved towards him, and gently turned him when he tried to keep her from seeing his back. Then she pressed her lips to the scar in a soft kiss. Link went rigid in his shock, unable to move or even breathe for a moment. "Do you remember?" She spoke so quietly he could barely hear her over the crackling from the fireplace. "When my mother would do this for us? Saying that it would make it feel better?"
Link nodded, not trusting his voice. He could still feel her kiss on his back, and his emotions over it didn't seem to know what to do with themselves or even what they really were.
"None of you is ugly or gross." She moved around to stand in front of him again. "The only thing I feel when I see such things is sorrow for the pain they caused you. And anger that anyone ever hurt you." Mipha touched his cheek again. "So please. Try not to think of yourself that way."
Link swallowed, his throat aching. "I... okay. I will. Thank you."
"Good."
She resumed helping him change, handing him the fresh shirt so he could put it on, and even assisted him in switching pants. Mipha untied his hair too, and briefly ran her fingers through it before slipping her arms around him in another embrace. After a few minutes she pulled back and started to turn away, but before she could Link impulsively leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you," he murmured.
Mipha went still. "Link?"
He took a deep breath and let it out. "Thank you for... for everything. I need to lie down now." Link touched her arm. "What about you? You weren't feeling well?"
"I—I am... fine now..." She stared at him with wide eyes, a blush seeming to grow on her cheeks. "Are you—did you—do you want to go to sleep, or stay awake..."
"I'm..." Link dragged a hand through his hair. "I think I'll turn my light out, but go ahead and stay up if you want, it won't bother me."
"... Okay."
Link doused the lamp and climbed into bed while she returned to her side, closing the curtains before lying down. He shut his eyes and listened to Mipha pick up her book and begin writing again; the sound of the pen on paper lulled him into a near-doze that was only broken when she turned out her light and snuggled close to him. He rolled onto his side to face her and opened his eyes, but he couldn't see hers, not with the curtains drawn. She found him, though, pulling him close and tucking her head under his chin as she held him. Letting out a deep sigh, he closed his eyes again and allowed himself to finally drift off into a much-needed slumber.