I will buy the flower shop, and you will never be lonely

by spacebeyonce

link accidentally gets stuck in akkala for a while. zelda grows plants to cope. post-botw2.

me, two weeks ago: yeah this'll be done in two sittings! 5k at most!

me, 17k later: 😶

so. happy saturday. here we are.

and I just want you to know - for this work, y'all get your short king link instead of same-height hoes like I always do. I just want you to know that.

title's from the gambler by fun 'cause I love that old ass song.

right, let's get it.

---

Zelda didn't have much experience in growing things.

Before, in the castle – she certainly kept plants in her study, of course; dried herbs and flowers hung from the rafters, pots overflowing with flowers lined her shelves. But she never grew them herself. The only time she ever did try was when she tried cultivating the silent princess flowers – with many, many failures as a result. All the plants she had kept came from the gardens around the castle, or the greenhouse – or plucked from one of her many outings on the road. They had never been grown by her. Always grown by someone else.

All this to say – Zelda did not expect the hobby she had suddenly acquired.

It started in the fall with a visit from Grantè.

Zelda hadn't been expecting him; he looked abashed as she opened the door to her and Link's home in Hateno. "Sorry for stopping by unannounced." He says sheepishly. "But I have no way to call ahead. Can I come in?"

"Oh – yes! Yes, of course, I'm sorry! Come in – Link went to the store, but he should be back any second now –"

She feels bad, as she ushers Grantè into the house, that he had to come all this way – that was why she wanted to set the post up as soon as possible. She already had a plan, made notes and everything. She has a list. So – the sooner she tries to set something up, the sooner people wouldn't have to travel across the country to talk to someone. Less surprise visits that way.

"Do you want something to drink?" She asks as the young Sheikah sits at the kitchen table. "Or a snack?"

"No, no, I don't want to trouble you – I'll be quick."

"Ah." Not a casual visit, then – Zelda expected that. "Is…is everything going well in Akkala?"

Grantè hums, resting his elbows on the table. "Yes and no. It's mostly why I'm here."

That made Zelda's stomach drop a little. But she refused to worry about it – she would let him say what was going on before spiraling into a fuss. She won't worry – not until Link comes back home.

And it felt like magic – like her thoughts had called him to her. The door opens, and he's there, a basket of his purchases dangling off his one good arm while he kicks the door shut with his heel. "Zelda," Link calls, his eyes still over his shoulder as he checks the door, "I'm back! You're not gonna believe the gossip I got to listen in on tod- Grantè?"

He stops short, his face brightening when he sees his friend sitting at the table. "I didn't know you were coming by! What's going on? Were you just in town?"

"Ah, no…" He smiles, a little thing. "I need to talk to you about something, actually. It's something going on in Akkala."

"Oh. Okay? Let me, um…Zelda, can you help me put things away?"

"Hm? Ah, yes –"

Link's eyes were full of questions as she helped him empty the basket, putting away the groceries, and Zelda didn't know how to answer, could only shrug in return. She was wondering why Grantè was here, too.

"Alright." Link says once they're all sitting together at the table. "What's up?"

The second the words are out of Link's mouth, Grantè sighs heavily, everything in him sagging as he leans back in his chair. "Sorry to come all this way to bug you," he starts, "but dad asked for you."

It's still hard for Zelda to believe that Grantè was Robbie's child – some days, she can see it, but mostly, the Sheikah is, well…he's certainly got a passion for ancient tech, but – Robbie is…eccentric. He always had been, and he hasn't gotten any calmer in his old age.

"Is something wrong?" Zelda asks. "In Akkala?"

The question just slips out of her, her little worry spilling out into the open air. Grantè raises a hand. "Rebuilding efforts are going well, Princess." He promises. "It's just, well – people have been looking to start cleaning up the citadel."

Link frowns a little. "Okay," he answers slowly, "that's great, but…what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, once a few scouts got past the deactivated Guardians and lingering malice and got into the citadel…" Grantè frowns. "There are…quite a few monster nests inside."

Ah.

Zelda remembers visits to the Akkala Citadel at the height of its glory – the heart of the Hyrulian military, it was truly a fortress, large and sprawling, with halls that wound down the mountain it was carved into. The citadel was large - 'a few monster nests' could mean anything between tens to hundreds.

"I see." The wrinkle in Link's brow smooths out with understanding. "They want me out there to help."

"If you don't mind." Grantè says, regretful. "We'd been handling it pretty well, so far, but…the extra help would be appreciated."

Link hums quietly, very obviously thinking about it, and Zelda stares down at her hands, folded atop the table.

The lacquer on her nails was starting to chip – a lingering reminder of their recent visit to Gerudo Town. Riju had wanted to paint her nails, during one of the breaks where they didn't have to act like leaders, and she brushed a bright, vibrant red onto her nails. It stood out against the deep purple dress she wore and her dark matching sirwal – but she had liked it then. She liked it now. And it was chipping.

It was a ridiculous thing to focus on, especially right now. She knew she was avoiding the issue at hand.

"…Alright." Link finally answers, and Zelda lets out a slow breath. "I'll come help. When do you want me to head out?"

"Tomorrow would be best, honestly – the sooner we get there, the better."

She shouldn't feel surprised – why is she surprised? She knew that this would happen, one day. That something like this would come.

But still, it's just so – it's just, ever since the castle –

Undead eyes, glowing with malice, a cavern filled with whispers, with an unnatural green light –

The swoop in her stomach as the rocks give way to empty air beneath her feet –

They haven't been apart since then. Not really. If they did leave somewhere, they went together.

But nests of monsters – what can she do against that?

"-da? Zelda?"

"Hm?" She blinks rapidly, looking up to find Grantè and Link both staring at her. "I'm sorry – I was thinking. What did you just say?"

Link frowned, and Zelda knew – she just knew he had a feeling about what she was thinking about. But Grantè continued on, none the wiser. "I was asking if you'd be alright without your stalwart protector for a while."

His tone was joking, and Zelda was able to let out a light laugh. "He hasn't been my protector like that in quite some time! But…I think…we'll be fine."

She looks back at Link, trying to be bracing – to be brave. "It would only just be a few weeks, yes?"

Link's frown deepens, and Zelda tries not to cringe. She isn't fooling him one bit – she knows they're going to have to talk about it later, when they're alone. But he plays along, helps her save face. "…Yeah. Just a few weeks – it shouldn't be too bad."

A few weeks.

Fine. She can do a few weeks.

Zelda starts to tune out the pleasantries as Grantè begins to head out, wanting to purchase a room at the in – but she quickly shakes it off. She refuses to be a terrible host. So she forces herself to rise from the table. She pastes a smile onto her face, tells Grantè that it was good to see him, that she was sorry that he had to come all this way – and these things were true. She liked the man, was happy to have another friend when Link introduced them, and she really did hate that he had to travel all the way from Akkala. All the more reason to get the postal system she had in mind together.

Her thoughts were wandering again. Zelda grits her teeth and makes herself stay in the present.

The door closing sounds obnoxiously loud, as Grantè leaves for the inn – and finally leaves them alone. The second he's gone, Link is speaking. "Zelda –"

"We don't have to talk about it." She quickly interrupts, backing away from the door as though that would make the conversation end faster. Because honestly, what was there to talk about? Link was leaving – off to fight nests of monsters – and she can't possibly come, so that means she'll have to stay here.

On her own. For a few weeks – just a few weeks.

Zelda bites at her thumb.

It shouldn't feel so hard – it shouldn't. They've been apart for longer – months. A century, besides. After that, a few weeks should feel like nothing. It should feel like the blink of an eye.

Link chased after her, determined – it's not like he had to go very far to catch up to her, she thinks dryly. "Zelda, it's okay – I know you don't like it. I don't like it either, but – but you can come with me, I –"

"No." She cuts him off sharply. Crosses her arms tightly over her chest. "I can't. If this had happened three years ago – yes. I would. But now –"

Now, she can't, because she's needed somewhere else – she's always needed somewhere else, now. And she never minds it, because she chose this role, she chose this life – but never has Zelda hated her responsibilities so much. Never has she hated the way the world asks so much of her.

Pressing her lips together, Zelda crosses her arms over her chest and wonders why she feels so angry.

"It will just be a few weeks." She says, forcing herself to unclench the muscles in her jaw. "We can do a few weeks. Can't we?"

Link bites at the inside of his cheek. He looks…unsettled. "…I don't know." He finally answers. His voice was so soft, then, but it rattled Zelda as though he'd shouted the words. "I don't…want to go without you. I don't want to be without you."

His honestly softens her, makes her loosen the tight cage of her arms around her racing heart. "…I don't want to be without you, either." She agrees, her voice just as soft. "But…our people need us. In different ways. And that…our parting will just be inevitable, sometimes."

Link just looked more upset at that, but that was fine – her words weren't meant to soothe, not really. It was just the truth. That she knew this day would come – that there would be times where they would not get to travel together. That there would be times when the world would once again pull them apart.

Oh – she was being so dramatic. It was just for a few weeks!

"It'll be alright." Zelda says, trying to sound more confident than she feels. "Here – you have to leave tomorrow, so…should we start packing? I'll help."

-o-

They don't talk about Link's rapid departure again until they retire for bed.

Usually, when they go to sleep, they immediately curl into each other's space, but tonight – tonight, there was a little space. Zelda lies on her side, her back to Link as she stares out the window, watching the tiny pinpricks of stars far overhead as Link shuffles around behind her, preparing for bed.

The blankets rustled around her as Link slipped into bed, the mattress sagging with his weight, making her slide towards him a little. There was still that bit of space between them, though – a wall that she's put in place. He shuffles around for a moment, getting comfortable, and then he lets out a quiet sigh. Then, Zelda feels it – the familiar prickle down her neck that tells her she's being watched.

"…Are you mad at me?" Link finally asks, and she lets out a short huff.

"I'm not mad."

"Zelda –"

"I'm not." She stresses, shoulders hunched up to her ears. "Why would I be mad?"

"I don't know." He answers easily. "But you just feel mad."

Zelda closes her eyes. Slowly lets out a breath and uncurls from the tight ball she unconsciously forced herself into. "…Maybe I'm a little mad." She finally admits. "But it's not at you. I'm – mad at myself."

Link shuffles behind her. She feels him move a little closer. "Why?"

"Because –" She makes a face, even though he couldn't see it. "Because – even though it's just going to be for a little while – when Grantè asked you to go to Akkala…I couldn't breathe."

Zelda scoffs, turning her face into her pillow. "Isn't that pathetic? To not be able to handle a few days apart? Shouldn't I be better than that?"

Link doesn't say anything for a while. She doesn't worry – she knows it's because he's thinking on what she said.

"…If you're pathetic," he says, his voice low, "then I guess I'm pathetic, too. This isn't easy for me, either."

He didn't mean it for his words to sound like a reprimand – but it felt like one. Zelda felt like she'd been doused in cold water as she realized – what was she doing? Link was leaving tomorrow, and here she was, what – having a sulk? Unacceptable. Ridiculous.

Zelda's breath leaves her in a rush, and she rolls over, letting the stupid little wall she put between them crumble away as she gets into Link's space, wrapping her arms around his neck. He takes her in eagerly, wrapping his arm around her waist and flipping them around until his back was facing the window, pulling her until she was flush against him – no space between them.

"I'm sorry." She says as he nuzzles at her collarbone. "I was getting stuck in my own head again."

It was one of the many flaws that still followed her after a century, getting wrapped up in herself and her problems – but she would always work on it. She would always try to be better.

"It's fine." Link says into her skin. "I accept your apology."

He wedges a knee between her thighs, his hand dragging up the line of her thigh to her hip, pushing her nightgown up her legs. Zelda soaks in his lingering touches; she can tell the difference between when he wants to be close and when he wants to be close. It makes sense, and she accepts his touches easily – they would be apart for some time, after all.

"After the castle," she admits in the scant space between them, "I never wanted to be away from you again."

"Me neither." He presses a soft kiss to the line of her jaw. "But at least this time it won't be so long. And we know we're gonna see each other again."

"I know." Her arms tighten around him a little more. "You're right. But I still don't like it."

His laugh was soft against her ear. "I know. I still don't, either. But knowing that makes me feel a little better."

"Mm."

Zelda wiggles back a little to just – look at Link. She stares into his sleepy eyes, using a gentle finger to brush his bangs away from his eyes, to trail a line over the bump on the bridge of his nose. "We'll be rather busy, at the very least." She muses. "Perhaps that will make time go by faster?"

"Maybe." Link mumbles, eyes sliding closed. "Probably not busy enough, in your case. Maybe get a hobby, too."

The smile teasing at his mouth let Zelda know he was just making fun, but she scoffed all the same, rolling her eyes. "A hobby! Ha! As if I have the time!"

"I guess rebuilding the country can be your hobby, then."

She sniffs. "Some hobby I've got."

Link hums sleepily, and Zelda's heart melts a little at the sound. She can't keep the fond smile from spreading across her face. "We should sleep now." She says, gently tucking a lock of hair behind Link's ear, and he makes a noise in protest.

"I'm not tired." He denies stubbornly.

"You can't even keep your eyes open! You have to leave early tomorrow anyway – let's sleep."

Link frowns a little, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "Not until I get a goodnight kiss."

"Oh, is that all? Well then –"

Zelda pulls him close, and Link lets out a tiny grumble as she noses his bangs out of the way, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She stifles a laugh and tilts his head up, enjoying the way his eyelashes fluttered in surprise as she pressed a gentle kiss to each eyelid.

"What…?" He mumbles as she presses a kiss to the bump on his nose that she loves so much, moving on to drop kisses on the apples of his cheeks. "That's not what I meant – Zelda –"

He quiets as she finally gives him the kiss he was asking for – sort of. She kisses Link's upper lip, then his lower lip, light as air, and he whines quietly when she pulls away, chasing after her – even though she doesn't go very far. "Hold on." She laughs, leaning in to press one last kiss onto his chin. "Okay." She says, voice thick with humor. "Goodnight kiss given."

Zelda doesn't even bother trying to hold back her laughter as Link quickly closes the scant space between them and slots his lips over hers, the sound trailing off into a sigh as he bites lightly at her lip, silently asking for entry before licking his way into her mouth.

Link always bites – always wanting to leave a mark on her, somehow. But Zelda doesn't mind it, no – she doesn't mind it at all.

"I'm going to miss you." He admits into the curve of her neck after Zelda's lips are kiss swollen and tingling. "Even if it's just going to be for a few weeks." And at his admission, she feels the telling prickle of tears in her eyes. She refuses to let them fall and holds him tighter.

"I'll miss you, too."

They fall asleep with their arms wrapped around each other, holding on tight.

-o-

"I think you should keep the Sheikah Slate."

Zelda wasn't expecting that, and her fingers stumble where she had been strapping the Master Sword to Link's back, gaping incredulously at the back of his head.

"I – what?" She stammers. "Pardon? I thought -"

She had just – she had assumed that Link would be taking the slate with him to Akkala. Zelda doesn't really know when she started seeing the slate as something that belongs to Link more than it belongs to her. But she's felt it long enough to feel startled that Link was offering the slate for her to keep.

"But –" She falters, drawing her hands to her chest. "I thought…don't you need the items in the slate…?"

"I have my pack." Link pats the bag resting on his hip, also Korok blessed. "It's got a lot of the stuff I usually bring – armor, weapons, changes of clothes. I'll be alright without the slate for a while."

"Are you sure? I don't want to leave you without any items –"

"Zelda."

Fondly exasperated, Link turns to face her. She looks down, and notices that he's holding the Sheikah Slate in his outstretched hand.

"You're going to need this more than I will." He wiggles the slate. "Aren't you going to be traveling a lot? Visiting the other settlements? Going to Kakariko? This will cut down your travel time by a lot, you know."

He was right – Demise take him, he was right. Zelda has a lot of places to go to; she has to meet with Sidon and King Dorephan in the domain. She must go back to Gerudo Town to meet with Riju. She has to go to Tabantha and speak with Kaneli, and check with Bolson on the reconstruction of the Great Tabantha Bridge.

Zelda was a very, very busy woman – and the slate would help her cut back travel by days.

"I just." She bites her lip. "I don't want to take away something that can help you."

Link huffs, placing his hand on his hip. "I'll be alright without it for a few weeks – I have my pack, and sometimes it's good to take the slow path every now and then. And I can fight just as well with my left hand. There will be others watching my back – don't worry about me. Take the slate. Alright?"

She stares down at the slate, unsure, before slowly reaching out with both hands, wrapping her fingers around the handle.

"Okay." She whispers, pulling the Sheikah Slate to her chest. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me." Link makes a face. "It's your slate, too, you know."

"I know, I know. I just –"

Zelda's words were cut off by a sharp knock on the door, and Link jogged to the entrance, opening the door and revealing Grantè, dressed and ready to go. "Morning." He raises a hand in a casual wave. "All set?"

"Almost." Link nods sharply. "Gimme just a second, and then we can go."

"Okay –"

Link shuts the door with a sharp 'snap!', cutting off whatever else Grantè was about to say. Zelda raises a shocked hand to her mouth, setting the slate on the table just in time as Link swoops into her space, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her tight against him.

"I love you." He says after what felt like a dozen kisses, a spot high up on Zelda's neck stinging with a mark she knew would last for a few days. That was probably the point – leaving something to remember him by. Zelda smiles and risks him losing more time, leaning in and pressing one more kiss to his lips. Just one more.

"I love you, too." She murmurs into his mouth, rubbing her nose against his. She pulls him into a hug, and he holds her tight, dragging his hand up and down her spine. She wanted to stay there forever. "Be safe. For me."

"I'm always safe." Link promises, and Zelda can't hold back the scoff that slips out. "Sure you are!"

"I am!"

"Mm. Alright, then. Go – you've kept Grantè waiting long enough, I think."

"Okay, okay…"

Link's steps were reluctant as they moved towards the door, and Zelda presses her hands against his back, making him pick up the pace.

Grantè's mouth had already opened when Zelda swung the door open, but whatever he was about to say died on his lips as he took in their appearance – rumpled clothes, kiss swollen lips. Zelda knew her hair looked fluffier than usual, thanks to Link running his fingers through it.

"Well." He says slowly, and an eyebrow creeps up as he stares at a spot on Zelda's neck. "Well."

She refuses to feel embarrassed. "Travel safe." She tells them as Link steps outside. "Don't keep him from me for too long, Grantè."

"I'll try not to, Princess." He says dryly. "Take care."

Link sends her one last lingering look, and Zelda gives it her all to give him her best smile, waving and mouthing one last 'I love you' to see him off. When he finally turns away, she hears Grantè say "really, Link?", his voice thick with amusement.

And Link responds, unashamed. "I'm not sure what you expected of me – you're taking me away from her for three weeks."

Zelda hides a laugh in the curve of her shoulder and quickly steps into the shadows of the house, letting the door close behind her. It felt…

Well.

It felt a lot bigger, with Link's absence. The silence that rang through the air felt – incredibly loud. That wasn't to say that Link was a loud person, no – but his presence had weight to it. Even when he's quiet, Zelda always knows when he's there. But now, in the house, there's…nothing. An emptiness where there was once the constant fullness of another presence.

She presses her lips into a thin line.

"Alright." She says aloud, just to break the stillness. "We can't dawdle about – there's still plenty of work to be done, you know. He'll be back before you know it."

Zelda thought that would be that – she would be so preoccupied with work that she would blink, and Link would be home.

But perhaps she jinxed it.

-o-

The weeks pass as Zelda expected them to – rather quickly.

The day Link leaves, she goes up the hill to do some work with Purah.

Now, Impa and Purah may be different in many, many ways – but their similarities come out the most when they have someone to tease. The little Sheikah's eyebrow rises when she enters the lab, her eyes zooming right to the mark Link left on her neck. A wide grin spreads across her face, and Zelda rolls her eyes. "Oh, don't you start."

"Start what? Purah pouts at her, fluttering her lashes. "Me? Little old me? Start something? You're so mean, Zelly! I mean –"

The innocent act falls rather quickly. "It looks like Linky already started something anyway."

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"Is it everything you've dreamed of, Princess?" Purah continues, her voice thick with laughter. "Does it answer every question you whined about in my lab, all those years ago –"

Zelda snatches up the first thing she sees to throw at Purah – a pen – and she dodges it with ease. "You can't get me that easily!" She cackles. "I've got my reflexes back – I'm whip sharp, now!"

"Don't make fun!" She says, pointing a finger in warning. "Or else I'm going to go back home and not help you with your Guidance Stone!"

"Oh, and then what will you do? Sulk at home? Mope? Pine? I don't think so – you want me to put you to work. So let's go to work!"

The curse of having such old friends is having someone that knows her and her quirks so well. So Zelda gives in. She sighs, and goes in the direction Purah points her, and she works.

It helps the day pass, at least.

But there are so many other days after that. It's fine, though – it was like she had told herself on the first day: there was plenty of work to be done.

In the end, she was thankful that Link decided to leave the slate with her; it did cut down her travel time by quite a bit – and she had to travel a lot. She went to Tabantha to check on the progress of the bridge and spent a few days in Rito Village. She spent a week in Gerudo Town, talking about expanding the trade to beyond southern Hyrule, to the slowly opening roads in the north, the east. She spends time in Zora's Domain, in Goron City –

She doesn't go to Central Hyrule.

She works. She keeps busy. And before Zelda knows it, three weeks have passed.

She starts to worry when three weeks and one day passes, and Link doesn't come home.

-o-

When Link had mentioned that Zelda could get a hobby to stay occupied, she knew that he was saying it in jest. She really was just too busy for something like that.

She's constantly moving; it feels like she barely gets a second to sit at home and catch her breath before she has to go somewhere else. Zelda is catching up, trying to hold onto all the promises she needs to keep to create a better world. So she doesn't have time for something so frivolous. She has to – she needs –

Zelda needs to coax the reclusive Zora out of the domain, promising them the flooded Lanayru Wetlands as theirs to watch over. She needs to increase tourism to Goron City, increase the trade of the countless gems that they mine. She needs to go to Central Hyrule and – and figure out how the reconstruction of Castle Town is going.

How the reconstruction of Hyrule Castle is going.

Zelda will never go back – will never step foot into that castle for as long as she lives. She won't, her children won't – their castle is elsewhere, now, in a little house in Hateno.

But all this to say – Zelda was far, far too busy to try and get a hobby. The best she could do to have some time to herself is the time she spends writing in her journal before bed.

She didn't have time for anything.

And yet –

-o-

It was because of Uma.

Four weeks and a day have passed, and Link still hadn't returned. Zelda was – she was trying not to fret. She had gotten dressed and was preparing to go out and do…something. But she was interrupted by a knock at the door. When she opens the door, Zelda is greeted by Uma standing in the doorway.

"Ah!" The old Hylian smiles widely, face creasing with wrinkles. "So you are home! I wasn't sure – you're always running about, you know."

"I – yes. Yes, I…I'm here. I apologize, Miss Uma. What do you need?"

Zelda likes the people of Hateno because they have stayed so…lax about who she was. She was their sovereign ruler, but she was also just – Link's lovely lady. She was Zelda, the girl that was excellent at elixirs and building things, if you asked her. And it was – it was nice, being so close to her people. Being able to help them in any way she can, just like she always wanted.

"Well!" Uma props her hands on her hips. "The weather's turning – winter's on it's way, I'm sure you can tell. And I need some help mulching my garden. My knees aren't as spry as they used to be, so I was hoping you were able to help an old woman out."

"Oh –"

Zelda perked up some as she registered what was said. Uma was giving her a task – she was giving her something to do. "I – I can help, yes! I – do I need to bring anything –?"

Uma waves a hand. "Just bring yourself! And maybe wear some clothes you don't mind getting dirty."

"Ah. Yes, of course, I –" Zelda looks down at the dress she was currently wearing – a soft pink number that Link had bought her. "I should…change. Give me just a moment. Do you want to come in?"

She leaves Uma sitting at the kitchen table while she races upstairs to change into something more garden appropriate. She decides on her softest, most worn pair of trousers and an old tunic of Link's, the navy blue so faded it now looked grey. She skipped down the stairs, gathering her hair to tie back into a sloppy bun, and meets Uma where she was sitting, looking around the cottage with interest.

"Sorry to keep you waiting –" Zelda starts to say, but the old woman waves away her apologies, rising to her feet with a sigh.

"What are you apologizing for? It's not like I was waiting long. Now – let's get to it."

The air was sharp when Zelda steps outside with Uma – there is a chill to it that wasn't there before. With the coming cold, there's been a change in the people of Hateno. Zelda has noticed they've been doing much more garden work than usual, tilling the earth and harvesting what's grown; just last week, Zelda was greeted by Thadd with an unexpected gift, an armful of sweet corn shoved into her arms. She didn't know what to do with it all at first but learned that it was very good roasted over a fire and turned into a soup.

Zelda has seen them prepare for winter from a distance – she's never gotten to participate in it herself.

"So," she starts as they near Uma's home, "how are we going to, um – mulch the garden?"

"Oh, it's easy – we're going to prune the plants that need pruning, till the dirt, pull out any weeds –"

Zelda's eyes grew wider and wider as Uma counted the tasks off her fingers. "I thought – we just had to mulch it?"

"Ha! No, no – there's a lot of work that needs to be done before we can even mulch it! Now come – we're wasting the day!"

She had felt…trepidatious, as Uma ushered her to the garden at the side of her house; it wasn't that she was afraid of being in the dirt. She's dealt with plants plenty of times, plucking flowers and herbs for her study in the castle. But she's never – it's hard to explain. She's never been part of the growing process in this way.

And she…she doesn't mind it.

Rather likes it, actually.

It was soothing, following Uma's instructions – watching her as she showed her how to prune back herbs and what weeds needed to be pulled.

"What are you going to use to mulch the garden?" Zelda asks much later, wiping her dirty hands on her stained trousers.

"We'll be using a mix of wood chips and wheat."

The woman points off to the side, a few feet away from the garden, and Zelda spies a wheelbarrow filled with wheat. "After that, we'll be done."

Compared to everything they'd done beforehand, laying the mulch around the plants was easy – all she had to do was make sure that she didn't put down too much and smother the plants. In the end, looking over the results of their work, Zelda feels…fulfilled. She didn't even care that she was sweaty and dirty, her knees and back aching, because it felt like – like hard work. It helped take her mind off of things for the moment, at least.

"That'll do." Uma nods, a pleased smile on her face. "Thank you for all your help, sweet girl. Come – let's go inside. I'll make us something to eat. This garden should make it through winter, with your help – but I've got some precautions, just in case."

"Precautions?" Zelda asks as she follows Uma into her home, curious.

"Yes."

The first thing Zelda notices as they step into Uma's home is the multiple clay pots sitting around the house. Uma's home was filled to the brim with plants – more than Zelda has ever seen. It was impressive.

"The precautions I was talking about." Uma says, moving into the kitchen. "I can't pull everything from my garden, but I grabbed a few things – herbs, mostly. I got a few cuttings and put them into pots. If they make it through the winter, they'll be going back into the garden in the spring."

"I see." She murmurs, casting a lingering glance over the pots. That was a smart idea.

"I may have gone a little overboard with the cuttings." Uma mused, returning to the main room with a tray of fruit tarts. "I may give a few away – would you like some, my dear?"

"Oh – me? Me?"

Zelda stops short, pausing in the middle of taking a seat at the table, and blinks rapidly, confused. Uma wants – she wants her to take some plants? Her? There must be a mistake – she must have misheard.

"I…" She hesitates, biting at her lip. "Miss Uma, I – I'm not sure. You know how I'm never home –"

"And I think this is a perfect reason for you to be home more."

"But -! But I can't, I – I have too much to do, there – there's so much work to be done –"

Uma lets out a loud 'tsk!', displeased – she sits down at the table, resting her elbows against the wood. "Listen here, Your Highness – I remember the day the Calamity came. A century it took, for the world to get back to some kind of normal. And you think you can fix it all in one night? Ha!"

She scoffs, rapping her knuckles against the table. "One hundred years of discord, and you think you can put it right in weeks. You'll be the Princess that burned herself out, that's what you'll be."

Zelda was being vividly reminded of the times when she had been scolded by her grandmother as a child. She squirms in place. "Well –" She scrambles for another reason. "I…I don't really have any experience growing any plants –"

She wasn't lying – that, at least, was true. Before…she had never grown anything before. Any plant she ever wanted was in the royal gardens, the greenhouses – cared for by gardeners with much more experience than her.

"Well, now you can get some experience!" Uma sighs "Goodness, child – take the plants. It'll be good for you, I think. And it'll be useful – your young man can use them."

"My – Link?"

It was ridiculous how her heart throbbed just from saying his name.

"Yes." Uma smiled, fond. "Such a sweet boy. Where's he gone anyway? I haven't seen him around."

"He's…he's helping out the people in Akkala."

Uma sighs loudly. "Oh, Link. You two – always moving. No wonder you're a fitting pair. All the more reason for this – it'll be something to do until your man comes home. And he cooks! I remember the day he came to ask me how I made my fruit pies. He'd make good use of the herbs, I think."

And out of everything, it was that reason that made Zelda cave.

"Well…" she starts slowly, "I guess I…since you're offering and all…I'll take home a few. Just the herbs."

Uma beams.

-o-

Zelda returns home with two plants – rosemary and basil.

"The rosemary will keep through the winter." Uma tells her before she leaves. "It's hardy – it doesn't need to be watered too much. The basil you'll need to keep an eye on. Give them both lots of sun, and plenty of water for the basil. If you can get the basil through the winter, it'll be just fine."

She feels – way in over her head.

"Okay." She murmurs to herself as the door closes behind her, back in her too-quiet home. "Okay. This – this is fine. I can do this. This is going to be fine."

Maybe if she says it enough, she can start to believe it.

Even as small cuttings, the herbs smelled sweet, the scents wafting up to her and calming her…somewhat. Looking around the house, Zelda wonders where the best place would be to put them, before finally deciding on the windowsill by the bed. "A lot of sunlight comes through here," she explains to the plants as she sets down the pots, "so you'll be happy…and I'll probably remember to water you."

She should probably stop being so pessimistic – it'll be fine! It has to be! Zelda is in a village full of farmers. And Uma said that she can always go to her, if she needs help with anything. It's going to work out. And when Link gets home –

When Link gets home.

Zelda sits back on her heels. Her mouth is pressed into a contemplative line as she stares at the plants. Already it feels – she doesn't know. A little brighter. Livelier.

A little less empty.

Perhaps Uma was right.

"Why do you want me to do this?" Zelda had asked Uma as she was leaving, and the old woman smiled.

"Well…there's something good, about watching something grow and improve under your hands. It's hard work, there's no doubt. But it's gratifying. That's why."

"…Gratifying, huh?" She murmurs to herself, reaching out to brush a finger against the leaves of basil. Zelda could see where Uma was coming from. The past few years haven't been as…gratifying as she hoped.

It would be good, to see something grow and improve under her care.

"Alright, then." She whispers to the plants. "We'll do our best."

That was the start.

-o-

"Miss Uma!"

Adjusting the pot in her arms, Zelda frantically knocks on Uma's door with her free hand. "Miss Uma? Are you there?"

"Alright, alright!" A muffled voice calls through the door. "Mighty rude of you, making an old woman move so fa – Zelda?"

She blinks rapidly, confused at the sight of Zelda standing on her porch in the afternoon light, shaking and clutching a pot to her chest. "What is it? My, you look like you've seen a ghost! Did something happen?"

"I –"

It took a lot, for Zelda to find the courage to come here. She didn't want to face Uma with another failure – another to add onto her already large pile. But – she couldn't not do anything. She couldn't not try. She had to try. Her pride wasn't worth this – that was a lesson she's had to learn the hard way. She needed help. So Zelda threw on her shoes and ran here as fast as she could

"I did something wrong." Zelda croaks, holding out the pot. "I did everything you said, but – the basil. It's dying."

She had felt sick when she saw that the leaves on the basil were limp and soft instead of the bouncy texture it had when she got it. It had been fine before – when she had gone to bed the night before it had looked fine! The rosemary wasn't giving her problems; it was growing without any issue. So why was the basil like this?

"What – dying? Are you sure?"

"It has to be!" Zelda cried. "Why else would it look like this? I knew I shouldn't have done this – I never get anything right, honestly –"

"Hey, now!" Uma says sharply. "Hey, now. Calm. Let me see."

Gnawing at her lip, she holds out the pot with shaky hands. Uma would know what to do. She wouldn't give Zelda these plants if she couldn't help her when she needed it.

She stared hard at the plant, reaching out to rub one of the leaves between her fingers – and then her stern expression softened, a soft laugh huffing out of her as she looked up at Zelda, amused. If – if she looked that way, then that means it's fine. Right?

"Zelda," Uma starts, her voice full of humor, "how often have you been watering this plant?"

"Oh – uh –"

She frowns, trying to think back. "I…every other week. That's what you told me, yes?"

Exasperated, Uma shook her head. "Sweet girl, no – those instructions were for the rosemary! With the basil, you'll have to water it every other day."

For a second, Zelda just stared at her, uncomprehending. Then, slowly, a blush crawled up her neck, spreading over her cheeks and up to her hairline. "…oh." She squeaked, feeling so embarrassed that she wanted to melt into the ground.

"Yes, oh." Uma laughed again, a little louder this time. "The basil just needs watering! Silly girl – give it some water and some sun, and it'll bounce back, I promise you."

"…Alright." She says slowly. "Okay."

The panicked adrenaline left Zelda so quickly that she felt exhausted, her legs suddenly unable to hold her up. "I'm…sorry for bothering you, Miss Uma. Thank you for your help – I'll just…I'll head home now, and –"

She hadn't even turned away before Uma was reaching out and grabbing her arm. "You're a funny one, aren't you? Come on, come in!"

"I – huh? Pardon?"

"You heard me." She gave Zelda a stern look. "You look like a breeze could make you keel over. Come on in – I'll make some lunch, and we'll take care of your plant together."

"I…" She felt so shy all of a sudden and scuffed her heel against the ground. "If…I'm not intruding…."

"If you were I'd say so, wouldn't I?"

Zelda smiles a little. "That's true. Alright then. Thank you."

-o-

Weeks pass. Zelda continues to keep busy.

Link still doesn't come home.

If winter wasn't here before, its presence could certainly be felt now; the chill to the air was sharper now, and the trees have changed, leaves vibrant reds, golds, and browns. The plants -they've been growing rather well. She was so sure that they wouldn't survive the week, but it's been another month and they're slowly peeking over the pot.

Perhaps they will make it through the winter after all.

And due to the coming cold, Zelda has made sure that the house was stocked with enough wood for the fireplace – which was ridiculously hard work to do on her own. She would usually have Link around to help, but –

Well.

She's been so tempted to just take the slate and warp to Akkala and see why Link has been gone for this long. It's gotten to the point that she –

She's starting to worry. Really worry.

Zelda has been having dreams – and calling them 'dreams' is saying it nicely. They're more like night terrors. Terrors of Link out of her reach, trapped in the belly of the citadel. Link, beaten and bloodied, screaming where no one can reach him as monsters tear him apart.

That isn't fair to Link; he's strong – she's seen that strength so many times. Watched him conquer threats so much stronger than him. She was just – she couldn't help it, sometimes. Zelda was scared.

Many times, she's caught herself staring at the map on the slate, finger hovering over the tower in the citadel. It could just be a quick trip – just to check in and calm her fears.

But she never does it. She puts the slate away. Carries on with her day. Zelda has too many duties, now – too many obligations.

"Are you that worried for him?" Riju asks, and Zelda squeezes one of her many sand seal plushies close to her chest.

Zelda was once again in Gerudo Town for business – always for business – and she was lounging in Riju's room at the end of the day, the two of them sitting on her large bed.

"Of course I am!" Zelda says. "How can I not be?"

Riju shrugs. "I don't know…I mean – given that he's your voe, I can understand your concern. But…I have seen what he is capable of. I have faith in him. I'm sure he won't be gone from you for long. Who knows – perhaps you'll return home, and he'll be waiting for you!"

Zelda's heart skips at the thought. That would be wonderful – a bright surprise after so many weeks of loneliness.

Riju's expression turns mischievous, teasing. "And wouldn't be a nice surprise right back if he comes home to you all pretty?"

"Riju." Zelda shoves her face into the seal plushie, nudging the girl's shin with her foot, and she cackles.

"I'm just saying! You've been so stressed lately, Princess – every time you come here, it's work, work, work. Relax a little! Go to the spa. Paint your nails. For the love of Din, just – do something that isn't about work."

"I do things that aren't related to work!" She protests. "I talk to you, don't I?"

"We always talk." Riju blows a lock of her hair out of her face, propping her chin in her hand. "And it's not like I don't enjoy our talks, but – Zelda. I don't want you to tire."

The turn of her lips was somber. "The life of a leader is a hard one – you know that. We are a light to our people, to guide them when it's dark. It is good to take time for ourselves when we can, so that we don't go out. So just -"

She straightens up, clapping her hands together. "So take a walk. Go shopping. Just do something so you can loosen up."

Riju makes a compelling argument – one that Zelda can't possibly deny. But –

But it's not as much fun when I'm by myself. She thinks sullenly, walking through the marketplace of Gerudo. The skirt of her dress swirled around her calves, and Zelda adjusted her sirwal through the slits up the sides before looking around, wondering where she could go. It was sunset, now, and the terracotta stones were dyed orange in the light. Despite the day winding down, it was still lively, the air overlapping with voices and laughter.

Even in the thick of it, Zelda felt like an outsider; more than anything, she wished that Link was there with her. Everything's more fun then – even just walking through the Gerudo marketplace, holding hands. He would always point something out, or have something funny to say about something he overheard at the stalls, giving her that smile she loved – the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Zelda's empty palm itched, and she curled her hand into a fist, trying to cast away the feeling.

"Miss Zelda!"

A little voice pulled her out of her frankly despondent thoughts, and she had a smile on her face when she saw Dalia running towards her. She is carrying something in her dress, holding her skirt in front of her like a little bag, and when the girl sees that Zelda is alone, her smile dims a little. "Miss Zelda, hi! Is – is Miss Link with you?"

Zelda smiles in apology as the girl approaches. "I'm sorry, no – Link is out in Akkala helping people with something."

Dalia pouts. "Oh. That's – I wanted to show her – look!"

She shows Zelda what she's carrying – and is faced with a small bundle of wildberries.

"I grew a lot of them this year." Dalia says proudly. "I wanted to give some to Miss Link to thank her for helping me, way back when. Here!"

She grabs a handful of the berries, and Zelda doesn't hesitate to hold out a hand, letting the girl place the sticky berries into her palm. "You can eat them." Dalia assures her. "I'll just give some more to Link the next time I see her – we have so many wildberry bushes now, thanks to her help! Hopefully I'll have more fruits the next time she's here."

Dalia waves at her with her free hand, still clutching her skirt full of berries, and then runs off into the crowd.

Zelda watches her go, and then looks down at the berries in her hand. They were ripe, some of the juice staining her fingers, and in the waning sunlight, they shined like gems. Slowly, Zelda picks up a wildberry, bringing it to her lips. It was so sweet – and tart. The seeds crunched under her teeth as she bit down.

We have so many wildberry bushes now.

She eats another berry and considers.

It was madness, surely – but she could see it, in her mind's eye. There was certainly enough room in the yard. Perhaps she could plant some around the house. Around the gate, near the stable? Wildberries are tough; Zelda has seen them grow in the coldest places. Surely, even though it was winter, she could -?

No. Zelda shouldn't think about this – she's lucky enough that the rosemary and basil haven't died. Is she just getting a big head because she's kept plants alive for once? Perhaps. Why push further? She should just eat the berries and leave it alone – follow Riju's advice and find something to do.

But ideas are always the most stubborn seeds – and once they're planted, it's hard to die out.

-o-

The minute she returns to Hateno, she goes to Uma's house and knocks on her door. She knows she could ask anyone in the village for this. But she wanted to go to Uma first.

As soon as she opened the door, Zelda immediately asks, "can you show me how to plant wildberry seeds?"

Uma's smile at her request is so bright.

-o-

"Thadd! Thadd!"

"What?!"

"Get over here and do some work! We need help turning the dirt!"

"But Uma – I'm on guard duty! This is serious!"

"Thadd, there hasn't been any threats for years. You're just trying to get out of working. Get over here and help some young ladies out!"

"…Only one young lady I can see right now – ow!"

"Thaddeus Grant –"

"Ow! Ow, Uma, my ear – ow!"

"You better be singing praises to Hylia it's just your ear! Now get over there and march."

"Ow – okay, okay! I'll help! Geez…"

-o-

After that, it just – spirals from there.

Uma, with a grumbling Thadd's assistance, shows Zelda how to turn the earth, how to remove and wash the seeds from the wildberries so they don't rot when planted. She stares at the mounds of earth and thinks – well. That's that, isn't it?

But it isn't. It was only the beginning.

On a trip to Rito Village, Zelda returns home with a few stalks of cool safflina and plants them in the yard. While visiting Impa in Kakariko, she sneaks off to the Great Fairy's fountain to pluck some endura carrots and blue nightshade – which she placed in pots in the house with the warm safflina she took from another visit to Gerudo. She harvests seeds from the flowers too, to plant in the spring. She knew they probably wouldn't make it in the cold if she planted them now.

The carrots…she doesn't really have an excuse for. But she feels good, seeing the mounds planted in a row near the wildberries.

It was useful, she tells herself, to be able to grow the flowers as often as she wants; they're a main component for elixirs, so to have them close enough to just pluck them out of the yard would be…much easier. That's her excuse for hoarding them, anyway.

The herbs were growing well. A pot of lavender has joined them, and the house smelled – good. Earthy and floral. Sweet. Zelda makes sure to water the plants when needed, talking to them as she goes through the motions, and the house feels…a little less lonely.

Winter settles heavily over them, the trees bare and a grey film over the land, and Zelda –

She decides to give herself some grace.

Zelda stays close to home, for most of the winter; she doesn't fly off to Zora's Domain, or Kakariko, or Central Hyrule, or, or, or – no, she doesn't go to any of the thousand other places she needs to be. She stays home. She cares for her plants.

She writes to Link often.

For what feels like the thousandth time, Zelda curses the fact that they don't have a proper postal system in order. When the spring comes, she swears on all the Goddesses that she'll make it a priority, because this is torture.

Every night, before bed, she writes to Link in her journal. Everything she wants to say, everything that she's been doing in his absence.

I have plants, now. She writes to him one night. I'm amazed nothing has died – every time I tried to plant silent princesses they always died. But I think that was because it was better to just leave them alone. They were meant to grow and thrive in the wild. I look around the house, and I – it's funny. I said I wouldn't, but I ended up getting a hobby after all, didn't I? It turns out you were right, in the end. Irritatingly so. I can almost hear you laughing at me!

Zelda wonders if Link was writing to her, too. If he was well, if he was healthy. She wondered what was keeping him away.

I hope you're safe. I hope you come back to me soon. Your arm isn't too sore, is it? I hope not, especially since I'm not there to rub it for you. You better be staying warm, so you don't get stiff! I know how chilly Akkala is in the winter.

Zelda taps her pen against her journal, suddenly feeling melancholy. She folds her arms atop her desk and rests her chin on her arms, looking over her written words. Writing to Link has – it helps. But it's really nothing compared to talking to him. Sighing quietly through her nose, Zelda closes her eyes, just for a second. And then she sits up, closing her journal with a snap and deciding to prepare for bed.

Her routine has altered some now that she has something to look over. After her bath, she makes rounds around the house; she checks on the safflina flowers she has drying out by the fireplace, and the blue nightshade gently glowing by the door. She runs her fingers over the herbs, checking if they need to be watered, eyeing the dirt; usually she pokes it, but she just had a bath – it wouldn't do to get dirty again.

After that, she cleans up the desk and brushes her hair for bed. Running her brush through her damp hair, Zelda notices that her hair has gotten longer, curling loosely around her collarbone. She wonders if she should find time to cut it; she hasn't had it long since…since before the Calamity. In the end, she leaves it alone; it's not long enough to be a bother, so she doesn't need to worry about it for a little while longer.

There was a chill to the bed, as Zelda crawls beneath the blankets – a chill that honestly had nothing to do with the cold weather. Nothing at all. Even two Rito-made quilts can't keep out the cold feeling that curling up alone in bed brings. She curls up as tight as she can under the blankets, grabbing the pillow that Link always used and bringing it to her chest, holding it tight. The pillow doesn't smell like the soap he uses anymore, but Zelda buries her face in it regardless, sniffling quietly.

This is the hardest part, she thinks – going to bed alone. All the worry, the anxieties that she worked to avoid throughout the day find her here, poke and prod and leave her heart racing.

It's not fair to Link at all, feeling this way, but…she isn't doubting him. She's not – she would never. It's – things are better now. But she can still remember the way Link's blood felt against her hands, slipping against her skin. Remembers how his breath rattled against her ear before he fell unconscious.

Things are better now.

But when someone you love leaves you, goes to a place where you can't know they're well, see it with your own eyes and feel it under your hands –

Zelda shakes a little and holds the pillow tighter.

Yes – the nights are always the hardest.

It's alright. She reassures herself. It's alright. Link will be home soon. Any day now. Any day.

She'll keep telling herself that until it comes true.

Eventually her anxieties calm down enough for exhaustion to trail in its wake. Zelda's death grip loosens on Link's pillow, and when she breathes in deep, she catches hints of basil and rosemary in the air.

It calms her enough to go to sleep.

-o-

Zelda shaded her eyes from the sun, squinting against the bright light as she leans back into the tall grass.

The air was warm and the sun was comforting, and Zelda closed her eyes to bask in it for a moment before returning to her task – the half-finished flower crown sitting on her lap. It was a beautiful day, and Zelda didn't want to stay in the house and let it pass her by. So she wandered out into the yard, barefoot, the warmth of the grass and the earth sinking into her skin. The tall grass swayed in time with the breeze, and the land around her home – it was resplendent with color.

Flowers. Flowers of every kind, more colors than she's ever seen in her life. It was hard work, making them grow – but it was worth it, to be able to see this. The air was heavy with the sweetness of the blooms, and Zelda drank it all in. A smile teased at her lips as she reached out, plucking out another flower to braid into the thin crown. It would be beautiful when she was done, she knew it.

"There you are."

There was a presence at her back, and Zelda's small smile grew as it moved to sit at her side. "I was waiting for you." She says, turning to look into Link's warm eyes. "You've become so lazy in your old age." She can't help but tease, and Link scoffs, leaning back on his hand as he rolls his eyes.

"You're one to talk – you're as old as I am!"

"And yet I was able to get up before you."

Link makes a face, and Zelda laughs, the sound ringing in the air as she turns back to her work. The silence between them was peaceful as they sat together, soaking in the beauty of the day. Eventually Link hums, flopping back to lie in the grass.

"Did I tell you how pretty the house looks, now?" Link murmurs, his eyes sliding closed. Zelda smiles, carefully plucking another flower.

"A few times – but hearing it again wouldn't hurt."

"The house looks really pretty."

"Thank you."

It falls silent again, but that's alright – the quiet is always much more comfortable with him. Zelda holds up the flower crown when it's complete, taking in the white, blue, and yellow flowers with a smile, enjoying the way the colors twined together.

"Link." She calls out, and he hums in response. "Sit up – I have something for you."

"What is it?"

"Nothing serious, just – here."

The second he's upright, Zelda leans forward, carefully placing the flower crown on his brow. "There." She says, pleased. "A fitting crown, I think."

Link's eyes widen a little in surprise before he goes pink all over, a little smile on his face. It was so cute that Zelda couldn't resist, reaching out to press her hand against his cheek. "Aren't we supposed to match, then?" He asks, shy, placing his hand over hers and turning his face into her palm, and Zelda could feel her heart squeeze in her chest.

"We are." She responds softly. "But I wanted to make this for you."

Link's expression softens. His grip on her hand tightens, and Zelda squeaks as he uses that leverage to pull her in, his arm quickly wrapping around her waist as he turned to press her into the grass.

For a moment, Zelda was left breathless, and she laid there, mouth open but no words coming to her as she stared up at him. Link really was so beautiful – all the time. But especially now, framed by the sun, his hair crowned with flowers.

"Well," Link says, letting her go for a second, "if we're going to match –"

He reaches out and blindly plucks a flower – blue nightshade – and carefully tucks the stem of the flower into her hair, twining it with her braids. "There." He says. "Now we're a pair."

Zelda blinks rapidly at the gesture, and he smiles at her, so sweet, before lowering himself, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He breathes in deep, and the feel of his breath drifting over her skin makes Zelda buck and squirm, giggling at the ticklish feeling.

"You smell good." Link mumbles into her skin. "Like flowers." And Zelda scoffs.

"I smell like dirt."

"No." He presses a lush kiss to her neck, and Zelda feels the hair on the nape of her neck rise. "You smell sweet."

It's so ridiculous that it takes just a few sweet words for Zelda to melt into a puddle, but – she can't help it. She loves him. She loves him, she loves him, she loves him. And she slides a hand over his shoulder, up the back of his neck, curling her fingers in his hair and jostling the crown on his head. She bares her neck as he takes his time trailing kisses up her neck, hot and wet, and –

-o-

Zelda wakes with a gasp.

Dawn was close – a faint, grey light filled the house, filling the space with the soft coming of morning. But Zelda could barely focus on that because – because she –

She reached up with a shaking hand, tracing her fingers along the curve of her neck. The hair at her nape rose faintly in response to the light touch.

Deep in her lower belly, she ached.

It had felt so real. He was here. He had been close enough to touch – even now, Zelda could see the way the sun reflected in his eyes, the crown of flowers on his brow, and she –

She –

Her breath hitches in her chest. Despite herself, her vision is blurred with tears.

She misses him. Zelda misses him so much. How pathetic is she? But she won't feel bad for it – she won't. No matter how much part of her feels she should.

If you're pathetic, then I guess I'm pathetic, too.

"It was just supposed to be a few weeks." Zelda warbles pitifully to herself, and her tears break free, sliding down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. "Just a few – Link, I –"

Zelda bows her head and allows herself this, clutching at her blankets and letting herself cry.

She's been trying – she's been doing her best, these past few months, but – that doesn't stop her from feeling incredibly lonely.

-o-

After Zelda's impromptu awakening, she dresses and goes to see Uma.

That hadn't been her plan for the day; she had meant to go to Kakariko and spend some time with Impa and Paya. But after the way her day started – she didn't have it in her to go. So she bundles up. Trudges her way down the dirt road on the familiar path to Uma's house.

She didn't even think to wonder if Uma was even awake at this hour – but she was lucky. Zelda found the woman sitting by the cookpots, wrapped up against the cold and nursing a cup of tea. Uma noticed her approach and had started to greet her with a smile – until she saw whatever expression Zelda had on her face. Or maybe it was the redness still lingering around her eyes that gave her away.

"Oh, I know that look." She says, "I've had plenty of children come to me with that face." And the tone of her voice was so grandmotherly and familiar that it made Zelda's eyes instantly fill with tears. "Oh, child – what's wrong?"

Twisting her fingers in the thick shawl she was wearing, Zelda shrugs, unable to look her in the eye as she reaches up and swipes at her tears with a sleeve. "I don't know." She answers thickly. "I just. I woke up this morning, and I had a dream, and I –"

Her voice warbles, cracks. "I've just – been very lonely, Miss Uma."

And it's ridiculous – it's absurd. Because she is constantly surrounded by others. She's made time these past months to spend time with friends. But that doesn't make what she said any less true. Any of that time spent with others doesn't mean much when there's still someone that she wants to see more than anything.

"I feel – I don't know." Zelda shrugs again helplessly. "I – it was only supposed to be a few weeks. But it's almost been three months. I've – I've been doing my best, but I – I miss him a lot. I'm not sure what to do."

Uma sighs quietly, and there's a little smile on her face as she stretches out a hand. "Come here."

Zelda shuffles forward without a fight, slipping her hand into Uma's. Her hand was soft but there were rough spots, too, callouses catching against Zelda's skin. Her skin was warm from the tea she'd been holding, and Zelda holds on, feeling like she's going to dissolve if she doesn't.

"There is nothing wrong with missing the person you love." Uma stresses, and it immediately brings fresh tears to Zelda's eyes. "Never think that. It doesn't say anything bad about you."

"But I just – I've been trying so hard, but –"

"And I'm sure Link has been trying his hardest, too." Uma squeezes her hand. "But that doesn't make you weak, for missing him. For wanting him here. Knowing Link, I'm sure he wants to be here, too. I've learned, with him living here – he wouldn't be gone this long if it wasn't for a good reason."

"I know." Zelda swipes at her face again. "I know. It's just hard. I miss him."

"Why don't you go see him?"

She's asked herself that question many times in the past weeks. It could be so easy – if she used the slate, Akkala is just a blink away. Many times, she's grabbed the slate to do just that, but –

"I'm scared." She admits in a thin whisper. "I don't…I don't even know what I'm scared of, at this point. So much has happened. I try to go see him and I just – freeze."

She can't figure it out. Her feelings are tangled into a knot every time she tries. She doesn't want to be in the way. She doesn't want to go and stumble upon something horrible. She's been in the citadel before, when it was whole, but she never – she doesn't – how deep does it go? Just the thought of being underground, rocks surrounding her…it makes her feel like she can't breathe. Zelda has told herself so many times, listened to the assurance of her friends – it'll be fine, he'll be fine. It's Link, it'll be alright.

Zelda has wondered many times if it would've been better if she went to the citadel with Link. If she helped deal with the monsters. But –

The Master Sword trills in her hand, a song in a language she just can't understand humming in her ear as she blindly sprints over the rocks and rubble, wiping blood out of her eye –

There was a noise behind her – the shuffling of an ungainly body, an unearthly growl –

Zelda shrieks, bringing up the sword just in time as a shriveled corpse lunges at her from out of the rubble, its eyes black and hollow, empty –

But she can't. She doesn't want to fight anymore. She's spent so long fighting.

"I think I'm just scared." She says again, instead of what was really on her mind. It felt like an excuse. If she wasn't holding Uma's hand, Zelda would be twisting her fingers together, tugging at her shawl – anything to get rid of this nervous energy.

But Uma was holding on. "Oh, Zelda." She sighs. "You silly girl. Alright. Come on."

She uses her grip on Zelda's hand to heave herself to her feet. "Let's go – a cup of tea will set you right. Let's go."

"Oh -" Zelda starts as Uma pulls her towards her home. "I – I don't want to bother –"

"Don't start that up! If I wanted to send you off, I would have. Now get moving."

"I just feel bad." She says later to the cup of tea cradled in her hands, sitting in Uma's kitchen. "I didn't want to interrupt your morning."

"Hmph!" Uma scoffs, taking a seat next to her on the table. "With how early I get up, I think the Goddess was placing me exactly where I was meant to be."

Zelda had just stopped crying. She wasn't going to tear up again – she wasn't. Instead, she brings her teacup to her lips, breathing in the scent of sweetened lavender. The smell and the warmth – it grounded her. Kept the tears at bay.

"Thank you." She finally gets out. She doesn't know if she's said that at all.

"Oh, please, you don't need to thank me –"

"No, I do." Zelda interrupts. "I really, really do."

Uma doesn't understand just how helpful she's been to Zelda, how kind. If she hadn't reached out to Zelda that fall day, what would have happened?

That's an easy question to answer – she would've worked herself into the ground to outrun her worries.

But instead…she has something better to focus on. Something that makes her feel good as she watches it grow, bit by bit every day. Zelda wasn't expecting how accomplished having these plants thrive in her care made her feel. She – Zelda trusts Uma. She's become a dear friend. She knows that the people of Hateno are kind. That they would help with anything, if she asked.

But now, it's instinct – like a child running to a parent. If she needs something – help, company – she will go to Uma first. She will always go to Uma first.

Zelda works on putting that into words. "You…have been so kind to me." She looks down at her teacup. "I…haven't had a grandmother for – a very long time. But…it –"

She fumbles. "I just – um! I appreciate you looking out for me. And um. Encouraging me to try something new."

Zelda was blushing. She could feel it. It made her want to scrub at her cheeks, as though that would send the bashful flush away, but she took a sip of her tea instead. She forced herself to find the courage and raise her head, and –

Uma was smiling at her, eyes soft.

"I'm honored that you think that way of me." She says. "And I'm glad. You and your man need someone to look after you, I think!"

"Ah…" Zelda shrugs. "Well. Maybe. I guess it wouldn't hurt."

"Of course it wouldn't. No matter your story, in my eyes you're both still children at the end of the day."

"Miss Uma -!" Zelda protests. "We're in our twenties!"

"And compared to me, you're still babies."

Uma laughs loud and long at the affronted look on Zelda's face. Eventually, she can't hold the face forever, and she gives into laughter too.

"You're always welcome here, Zelda." Uma tells her hours later. "For anything. For any reason, you're always welcome. Always."

-o-

Winter passes with little fanfare. At the beginning of the new year, it snows – a thick, heavy blanket that covers Hateno Village with a stillness that almost felt like magic.

Zelda watches the snowfall and tries not to feel lonely.

Four months, now, and Link still isn't home. Zelda has forced herself to stop counting the days so she doesn't turn into a nervous wreck.

It's alright – she's keeping busy. Not too busy, though.

She's started traveling again despite the cold. She spent the turn of the new year in Kakariko, celebrating with the Sheikah as they welcomed another year. She didn't really go anywhere else, even though she knew she probably should.

"I think it's good that you're slowing down a little." Impa tells her over steaming cups of matcha. "You're in so many places at once, it's almost like the art of duplication - one could say you're a Sheikah!"

"Well, I'd stick out like a sore thumb as a Sheikah!"

"T-there have been rumors…" Paya chimes in, a teasing glint in her eye. "We g-get more travelers, now. Th-they have stories about you. Don't they, Grandmother?"

"Oh, rumors abound. Our secret Sheikah child."

"I know you two are lying." Zelda says in warning. "Quit teasing me."

"P-Princess," Paya says, blinking innocently, "we w-would never."

But Zelda wouldn't fall for that – Paya has gotten much cheekier now that she's more relaxed around her – and she glowered until the two of them burst into laughter.

"If you're quite finished!" She says loudly, and Impa waves her hand.

"Please, we're just teasing." Impa finally calms, taking a sip from her cup. "I do mean it, though – about you slowing down, some. You've been working too hard."

"Do you think so?" Zelda muses, cupping her chin in hand. She swirls her teacup, watching the liquid twirl around. "I feel like I haven't gotten anything done at all."

"Zelda." Impa's voice was stern. "You've been doing plenty. Please – this is going to take the rest of your life. Take your time."

"I know." She sighs. "I just want to do as much as I can."

"…Have you," Paya starts, hesitating, "h-have you, um…has Master Link returned?"

They watch as Zelda's whole demeanor droops. "No." She moans. "I'm trying not to worry, but – I just wonder what's keeping him. What's making him stay away for so long?"

Paya places a sympathetic hand on her back, and Zelda leans into her. "I'm s-sure he's alright." She promises. "He's probably been gone so long for a good reason." Zelda sniffles.

"I know…Uma said that, too. But four months feels like such a long time." She says miserably. "I hope he comes home soon."

"I'm sure he will." Impa soothes. "Just don't worry too much – and try to keep busy."

"I am." She mumbles into her teacup. "I'm growing plants, now."

Announcing that was worth the look of shock on Impa's face.

Zelda did worry about the state of her plants as she left for Kakariko – but Uma promised to look after them for her, taking her herbs and flowers into her home. "They'll be fine!" She assured her. "They won't die on my watch I'll promise you that. Now go!"

"You?" Impa asks, incredulous. "Growing plants?"

"U-um," Paya says, confusion visible on her face, "is – is Lady Zelda growing plants a b-bad thing?"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it! This one –" she gestures grandly in Zelda's direction, "– has never kept a plant alive, and not for lack of trying. She was obsessed with trying to grow silent princesses – it was understandable, at the time, as they were endangered. But any seed she planted died within weeks! It was incredible! And you're telling me you're growing plants?"

Zelda drew herself up. "The silent princess was a special case!" She defends. "That was meant to grow out in nature! I'm growing – fruits! And other flowers! And herbs! And not one of them have died!"

She won't mention the close call she had with the basil in the earlier days – best to keep that to herself.

"Hmph." Impa stares hard at her.

"W-well…" Paya says slowly, "I-um. I t-think that's great, L-lady Zelda. I'm happy for you. It's good t-to learn new things."

"Thank you, Paya." Zelda says, looking right at Impa as she speaks. "For supporting me."

"Oh, please." Impa says. "You can't blame me for being surprised! But –"

She softens some. "I am happy for you. I am." She says again at Zelda's skeptical brow. "It's good you're keeping busy in a new way. And that you didn't let past attempts stop you."

Impa's praise warms Zelda down to her toes.

It was a good choice, in the end - spending time with the Sheikah for the rest of winter. Most of the winter that she spent in Hateno was…it was fine. But she was still – she was in the home she and Link made, together. All alone. And being in a different place, with her friends…it takes away the sting, some.

Zelda is grateful that Uma agreed to watch over her plants, while she was gone. It allowed her to have the time she needed to clear her head, and truly welcome the coming year with a smile.

She made sure to bring back plenty of gifts in thanks.

-o-

The world thawed slowly as spring crept over the land, the earth constantly damp with the melting snow – and later, persistent rains.

When Zelda checks where she planted the wildberry seeds on a clear day and sees tiny green sprouts, stubbornly poking through the earth, she can't stop smiling for hours afterward.

-o-

"My wildberries are sprouting." Zelda announces, and Uma's hum sings in time with the soft 'snip' of scissors. Gold hair tumbles over her shoulders onto the floor. She needed to cut her hair, and going to Uma felt like instinct at this point. She didn't want it too short this time – back to her collarbones would be good enough – and Uma was happy to oblige.

"That's good." Uma says, pleased. "I told you they'd grow, didn't I?"

"You did." She agrees. "Sorry to be so doubtful – I was nervous."

"I don't blame you." Another quiet 'snip', another tickling sensation of hair falling to the floor. "We're all nervous at first, when we're trying to do something we've never done before. That's just how it is. We don't want to look bad, don't want to fail. But failure, stumbling a little – that's alright. That's how we learn."

"Mm." Zelda brushes away a lock of hair stubbornly clinging to her tunic. "I feel a lot better now, though, thanks to you. Like…if I branch out more, I won't worry so much."

She feels light, as more of her hair flutters to the floor; Zelda always feels better, after getting her hair trimmed. Especially around the new year - it feels like casting away your old self and making more space for newer things to grow.

"Hm! That's good. Any more worrying and you'll go grey before your time." Uma ruffles her hair, and laughs as Zelda lightly swats at her hand, groaning.

-o-

Summer.

Zelda closes her eyes as the heat sinks into the back of her neck. She bites into a strawberry and hums at the sweet taste.

It was hot – too hot to stay inside. Uma had come by the day before with a small basket of strawberries, a sweet start to the summer harvest, and Zelda placed some in a bowl and took them out to the pond out back. The plants were thriving in the sun, the heat, but she certainly wasn't.

The water felt so cool on her legs; it was tempting enough to take a swim. Zelda felt so…lazy. There's so much that needs doing, but she can't find the energy to do any of it. Perhaps it will be fine to just…take one day for herself. Just one.

Sighing quietly, she topples back into the grass, watching the clouds lazily pass across the sky.

Eight months.

Zelda blindly reaches out, picking up another strawberry. Her teeth sink into the soft flesh, and she licks at the bit of juice clinging to her lip. The strawberries were so ripe – so why then, was the taste so bitter?

She made herself stop wondering by the fourth month. Made herself stop thinking 'maybe today?' the moment she wakes up. It stings a little less then when the bed continues to be empty. When the house continues to be quiet.

Zelda has done her best to fill the gaps Link's unexpected absence has left –

But eight months is a very, very long time.

In the distance children's shrieks and laughter rang in the air. Hateno had much more energy, now that it was warmer, and usually it was easily contagious. Now, it took some work to reach her.

The chirp and buzz of cicadas cried out in time with the children's laughter, and that's what Zelda liked about the summer, in spite of the heat. It was the liveliness, the noise – it calls for movement, urges you to look for all the discoveries the season has to offer.

Zelda couldn't stay still because of the feeling, and she huffed out an irritated breath, pushing herself upright. She raised one leg out of the water, watching the way the drops of water rippled the pond's surface, thinking.

She should probably go shopping today, Zelda muses to herself. She's almost out of milk and butter. And maybe next week, she'll go to Zora's Domain – not for reconstruction reasons, for once. Just to visit – she wasn't able to see Sidon before the cold hit, and she'd like to spend some time with him.

Zelda is pulled out of her surface level thinking by a light tickle on her shin, and she comes back to herself with a slow blink. When she notices what was tickling her shin, a small smile spreads across her face at the rhino beetle that decided her raised leg was the perfect place to perch.

"I don't want to move you," she says to the beetle, "but I will have to put my leg back down at some point."

The beetle fluttered its wings in response, uncaring. It was courteous enough, in the end, to crawl onto her knee, so Zelda was eventually able to lower her leg back into the water.

"Well," she sighs, reaching for another strawberry, "I guess this is fine. Some company is better than no company, I suppose."

Another bad habit that she's started up in Link's absence – talking to things that can't talk back. It's her way of filling the constant silence that follows her around; she speaks just so there's some noise going on. So Zelda talks – she talks to the plants as she waters them, as she checks for bad leaves. She talks to inanimate objects, like the chair she forgot to push back in after breakfast and then banged her knee against. To the food she's cooking, the dishes she's cleaning, to herself – Zelda will talk and talk, even when there's nothing to really say. Anything to fill the silence.

"I'm sure you're plenty busy." She says to the beetle. "I don't have much going on – well, today, I don't. Who knows about tomorrow? Now that it's warm out, I can finally start my plan on creating a postal system."

The rhino beetle flutters its wings again, and Zelda nods, eating another strawberry. "Exactly! You get it – the post is one of the things I should've started months ago! The past months have been a lesson. I would've felt a lot better if I got some letters."

Her mind starts wandering down a well-worn path, and Zelda forces herself to stop thinking about it before it gets too far. Before it starts to hurt.

But she can't help it – having a moment where she thinks 'what if today is the one?'

"Perhaps I'm just setting myself up for disappointment." Zelda tells the beetle. In response, it rears up, opens its wings, and flies away.

"Yes." She says to the empty air. "That's about right."

It is absurd to feel as hurt as she does at a bug flying away. This was ridiculous – she was being silly.

"Right." Zelda slaps her hands against her thighs. "Obviously the heat is getting to me – perhaps I'll go swimming, after all."

-o-

Zelda's basil and rosemary have grown until they're almost half her height.

She's ridiculously proud every time she looks at them; she's really come a long way from futilely attempts at growing silent princesses. She's proud of everything she's grown so far – but she's most proud of these because they were what she started with. Zelda hasn't used any of the herbs yet – and not because she didn't want to. No it was mostly because…she was waiting. That was all. She was waiting.

Until then, Zelda has a routine that she has been following rather closely.

First, she has dinner with Uma; earlier, Zelda had felt she was intruding, not wanting to impose on the woman's kindness, but how much she didn't mind got through to her in the end. After that, as night falls on Hateno Village, Zelda returns to her home and takes a bath. She scrubs away the sweat and dirt of the day and puts on one of Link's tunics for bed, brushing her hair until her hair wasn't so fluffy from her bath.

Then, she walks around the house. Checks on the flowers.

Prunes the herbs.

It's almost meditative, at this point – combing her fingers through the leaves and pulling away any that look off. It was recommended by Uma to use scissors of some kind, and Zelda usually does when it comes to cutting away any flowering stalks. But she likes picking the leaves with her hands. She likes the scent that lingers on her fingers hours later.

And as she works, she talks – of course she does.

"Why are you so needy?" Zelda asks wryly as she plucks away another basil leaf. "It feels like every time I turn, you need something. You need water, you need fresh dirt, you need more fertilizer. Why can't you be more like your cousin? The rosemary hardly needs anything!"

The plants say nothing in response – not that she expects them to.

A small pile of discarded basil leaves was growing on the windowsill, and Zelda knew that she wouldn't be done for a while. She doesn't get it – she does her best to keep the plant healthy, and keep bugs away, and yet she finds chewed through leaves, or browned leaves, shriveling up.

"High maintenance." Zelda grouses. "Needy. I ought to - I should just cut you up and – and put you in a stew! That would save me some grief, that's for certain. A lot less stress. I –"

There was a noise downstairs, and it makes Zelda freeze in place, a hand hovering midair. Then she hears it again –

The rattling of the doorknob.

Her heart rises into her throat.

The door to the house was locked – she made sure to lock it before her bath - and only two people have the key to open it. Herself, of course, and –

And –

The door opens.

Zelda is moving before she could think.

Her foot gets tangled in the blankets, but she kicks them away, hopping off the bed and scrambling to the stairs. And there – standing – he –

Link was there. At the foot of the stairs, Link was there. He was staring up at her, eyes wide, like he'd never seen her before. Zelda knew she must have looked the same.

In those seconds, she drinks him in. He looks – his hair had gotten longer, and he looks…stockier. Just slightly.

Link blinks up at her, and Zelda was dazzled – by the flutter of his lashes, by how blue his eyes were. Were they always that blue? She couldn't remember. It's been so long.

"Zelda."

His voice – the way he said her name –

Zelda felt like she was flying as she raced down the small set of stairs, her feet barely touching the ground. Link was there to scoop her up before she even touched the last stair.

Every point where their bodies touched felt electric – it was so much sensation all at once that Zelda felt like she couldn't breathe. Her breathing hitched, unable to find a steady rhythm, but she wouldn't let Link go, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hooking her ankles over the small of his back. She feels her back hit wood as Link presses her against the door, but that feeling is drowned out by a thousand other sensations – the tickle of Link's hair as he buried her face into her neck, his shaky breaths against her skin, the feel of his hand digging into her bare thigh. It was too much, too much after months and months of nothing -

"L-Li –"

Zelda's chest stuttered against Link's, and she doesn't know when she started crying – but she can feel it, great, big sobs that rattled against her ribs.

"I'm sorry." Link murmurs into her skin. "I'm sorry."

"W-why were you gone for so long?" Zelda sobs, tangling her fingers into his hair and holding on tight. "I was so – I was scared. I thought something had happened!"

She uses the grip she has on Link's hair to tilt his head, to make him look at her, and he moves willingly. His eyes rove over her face, and Zelda does the same, taking in the tiny differences. Reluctant, she lets one hand slip away from his hair to touch his face, and Link's eyelashes flutter at the first hesitant touch of her fingertips to his skin. He turns into her hand, just slightly, and Zelda makes a soft noise at the sight of a scar on his face that wasn't there before, making a notch in his eyebrow.

"It's okay." He promises instantly. "It was just a scratch."

"I didn't want you to get scratched at all." Zelda whispers, running her fingers through his bangs. "Link…I'm sorry. Maybe – maybe I should've come with you, I –"

"No." Link cuts in. "No, I understand why. It's okay."

"But I should have!" Zelda says again. "I'm tired of fighting, but – you must be as tired as I am. More than. It…it probably would've been better if we faced it together."

Tears continued to drip off her chin, but she didn't bother trying to wipe them away. "I'm sorry." She says again, and she brushes her fingers through his bangs again, traces the tips of her fingers over the bump on the bridge of his nose. When she did that, Link makes a soft noise, turning towards her hand. "What is that?"

"What's what?"

"That smell. It –"

Link presses his hips into hers to hold her against the door, and a shiver travels all the way to the top of her head. After months of nothing, her head was spinning, and Zelda struggled to say focused as Link grabbed the hand that was pressed against his face, turning his face into her palm. He breathes in, deep, and the feeling of his breath brushing across her skin didn't help stop the goosebumps rising all over.

Her skin felt so sensitive – like her nerve endings had been lit up all over. Link hums, deep in his chest, and the vibrations of it against her skin made her bite her lip so she wouldn't make a noise.

"You smell good." He says into her skin, lips pressed against her palm, and tears prick at Zelda's eyes. A coincidence, surely. "You smell so sweet. It's –"

He breathes in again, slow, his eyes drifting closed. "I missed you." He says suddenly, and Zelda asked herself why they've been wasting time talking.

The hand still in Link's hair tightens again. She uses the hand he was holding to turn his face to hers. Zelda enjoys the way Link's lashes flutter as he starts to open his eyes just for a second before she tilts his head up and slides her lips over his.

Link groans, low and guttural, and Zelda can't stop the helpless noise that slips out, fingers tightening in his hair as his hand falls back to grip at her thigh.

It crashes over her in a wave – the weeks without touches, without kisses, of more nights than she could bear curling up alone in a cold bed.

Hunger grows in her belly – a yawning, growing pit. She can understand why Link bites so much, now, as she nips at his lips until his mouth falls open in a gasp, licking into his mouth. Her hands were shaking – all of her was shaking, all over, all over. She tightens her legs around Link's hips, making sure there was no space between them. None.

Zelda felt dizzy. She wants – she wants –

She pulls back with a sharp gasp, and Link lets out a plaintive noise as her hands leave his hair, plucking at his tunic, over his chest, lower still –

"Wait –"

Link adjusts his grip, the hand wrapped around the back of her thigh flexing as he hitches her higher against the door, and it drives Zelda crazy how strong he is. Crazier.

"I don't – we shouldn't." Link stutters. "Not here. We can – upstairs."

Zelda almost rolls her eyes. Ridiculous. As if they haven't done this here before. "We can go to bed later. I want – now, Link. Now."

Link stares up at her, and she can only see a thin ring of blue. With his hair mussed, his tunic rumpled – all by her hands – he looks wild. He wants her, she know he does – she can feel it. They can go to bed later – they can stay in the house for days after this for all she cares.

But – eight months. Eight months.

"It's been so long." She whispers, reaching back up to cup his face. He turns into her hand, nostrils flaring – chasing after the scent of basil on her fingers. "I've missed you. I missed you so much."

Her free hand slides lower. Lower. Her fingertips catch against the buttons of his trousers.

Zelda can taste it when he gives in, his lips snatching hers up with a fierceness, all eager tongue and teeth. She responds to him in kind.

The house was hot – sweltering. Not even the open windows could bring relief. But the air smelled sweet; the scent of herbs and flowers filled the air, and Zelda takes it in with great, eager gasps, breathing through the stretch.

Eight months. Eight months. Goddesses.

Through her tunic, Zelda can feel Link's teeth sinking into her shoulder, just slightly – and her hips buck down in response. Her hand scrabbles against the wood of the door for a moment, searching for purchase, before finding purchase once more on Link – grabbing at his hair, pawing at his tunic, touching his face. Their bodies roll in a quick, frantic rhythm; it's not as easy as it was before, and they are much too eager to try and get in tune again.

Zelda cups Link's face in her hands again and stares at him, unblinking, taking in every miniscule expression. She missed him. Goddesses above she missed him so much. She leans in to kiss him messily, breathless, and Link breaks off the kiss sooner than she'd like to turn into her hand, breathing deep. He looks at her through his lashes as he sinks his teeth into the meat of her palm, and that –

That, well –

Zelda grabs him by the hair and pulls him back in.

-o-

"Why were you gone for so long?" Zelda asks into his shoulder as he carries her up the stairs. "I thought – it was just going to be a few weeks. Wasn't it?"

"…It was supposed to." Link agrees. He sets Zelda on the bed, quickly stripping off his clothes and following after her. "It took longer than we thought it would to clear the citadel. And after that…they needed help with construction. Winter was coming, and the houses Akkala had…they weren't great. Not built well enough for the cold. And I remembered what you had told me."

His eyes were soft as he sat on his haunches and reached out, brushing away a lock of hair that stuck to Zelda's sweaty face. "Our people will need us in different ways." He murmurs. "I remembered that, and I – I had to stay. I had to do what I could."

Zelda's heart melts. Oh, how she loves him. And she tells him this, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. "I love you." She murmurs into his ear, and she giggles as he goes pink to the tips of his ears.

"Don't laugh at me." Link grumbles, using his weight to tumble her back onto the bed, and Zelda gives in with another laugh.

"I'm not laughing at you!" She promises as he crawls over her. "I'm just amazed at how cute you are."

"I'll show you cute." He warns her, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingers creeping beneath her tunic – but then he stops.

"Oh –"

He pulls back a little, his attention caught by – ah.

"What's all this for?" Link asks, finally noticing the basil and rosemary on the windowsill, and Zelda bites at the inside of her cheek, miffed at being interrupted.

"Plants." She explains shortly. She wiggles her hips, trying to get Link's attention again, but he wouldn't be moved. He closes his eyes, leaning in to breathe in the scent. "So that's what that smell was." He says to himself. "You smelled so good. You still do."

Zelda couldn't take any more of the way his thumb was drawing absent circles into her thigh, the callouses catching against her skin. She snatches up his hand, yanking him back over her, and shoves his hand up her tunic, arching into his touch. Her skin prickles at the touch and she wants to feel his skin everywhere – everywhere. All over. Now that she has his hand where she wants it, she reaches for the hem of her nightshirt, starting to pull it over her head.

"I got a hobby, like you said." Zelda explains as she tosses the shirt away, and she licks the laughter right out of Link's mouth.

-o-

Zelda wakes to the scent of baked bread and rosemary.

She wakes slowly, stretching her arms overhead and arching her back with a long sigh. She was sore – but it was a pleasant ache. She rolls over onto her side, blindly reaching out for Link's pillow and pulling it to her face, breathing in. It smells like his soap already, and Zelda smiles into the fabric. They eventually got out of bed to take another bath – a bath that went on much longer than intended.

It was fine. They got clean eventually.

Zelda's stomach grumbles, reminding her of the smells that woke her up, and she sits up, scooping her shirt off the floor and heading downstairs. Already the house felt so different – a warmth that had been missing finally returning. There was noise in the house again; a presence that removed the still air that had been hanging around for months, reminded her that she wasn't waking up to another day alone.

With that thought buoying her, she goes down the stairs with a smile.

Link was standing in the kitchen, hair loose and shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose trousers as he poured tea into two cups, and he immediately brightens up when he sees her coming down the stairs. He quickly puts the teapot down to meet her halfway, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into a kiss.

"Good morning," he murmurs against her lips, and Zelda hums happily, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "It is." She agrees. "What did you make?"

"Some tea. And some bread – I used some of the rosemary if that's okay?"

"That's what it's made for – of course it's okay! It smells delicious!"

He grins, and Zelda's heart aches, seeing that smile. She leans in to kiss him again, and Link rises up to meet her happily. "I really missed you." She tells him again. "I'm so glad you're back home."

"Me, too." He says. "Being gone for so long was awful. I thought about you every day."

Zelda sniffles a little and ducks down, burying her face in Link's neck. She hugs him tight, and Link returns the hold with a soft laugh, rubbing his hand down her back. He smells like rosemary and baked bread and the warm cotton of their bed. It makes her want to sink her teeth into him. She feels that hunger stir again in her belly, but she refrains – they have all day.

She does give in a little though, turning her head to press a lush kiss against the column of his throat, enjoying the way his breath hitched in his chest, his hand drifting just a little bit lower.

"Hey, now." He says, his voice low. "We should eat, before the bread gets cold."

Zelda hums against his skin, pretending to consider it, before finally stepping away, her hands dragging teasingly against his shoulders. "You're absolutely right – I even have some strawberries left that Miss Uma gave me. We can eat them together."

She smiles at him, so sweet, and bites her cheek to hide a laugh as his eyes narrow, dangerous. "I'll get you for that." He promises. "But alright – let's eat."

Link goes to set the table, grabbing the tea and cutting thick slices of bread, slathering them with goat butter, and Zelda feels the lightest she's felt in months as she brings the remaining strawberries over to the table.

"You know," Link says as they sit close together, legs tangling together under the table, "I didn't think you'd take my idea about getting a hobby seriously."

Zelda laughs. "I didn't think I would, either! But Miss Uma talked me into it – and it turns out I like it a lot more than I thought I would."

She picks up a slice of bread and takes a bite, and loudly sighs out her pleasure, toes curling. This – this was why she waited. The bread was perfectly warm and soft, and the rosemary baked into the loaf, the tang of the goat butter – it was perfect.

"Oh, this is wonderful." She hums.

Link glances around the room – to the flowers perched by the windows, and the dried lavender and safflina flowers tied in bundles on the counter. The air was full of the scent of rosemary – he could still smell it on his hand, some. Next to him, Zelda smiles, warm and beautiful and bright. There was a smear of goat butter near the corner of her mouth, and Link leans in to lick it away, nipping at her earlobe before sitting back.

Zelda starts with a squeak, clapping a hand to her ear as she flushes deep as a rose.

"I'm glad." Link says, a sweet smile on her face. "And…I like the house. It feels…"

He shrugs. "Brighter."

Zelda's smile widens. Her heart skips a little, glad that he feels the same. She scoots even closer to lean her head against his shoulder, grabbing a strawberry out of the bowl to take a bite.

"I thought so, too." She says as she holds up the strawberry for Link to take a bite, and when the fruit was gone, she quickly discards the leafy remains to meet him in a sweet kiss.

---

me, waking up from my work lunch nap: what if they reunion fuck against the door

anyway here it is. this long ass indulgence. I literally wrote this because I'm a Plant Bitch now, and after pruning my basil I had caught the scent of it on my hands and my mind just kinda spiraled 'cause in my works I always have link just. Loving Zelda's Hands. so my brain was like 'what if'. and now y'all got this. with bonus banging, I wasn't planning that until literally today.

y'all know the drill - comments and kudos are awesome. I hope everyone's week went great and that y'all have a bitching weekend. get some rest if you need it.

until next time!