Welcome ~ I hope you'll enjoy this little story of mine. I've read some great Zelda fanfiction, even some that shed a little light on the time after the game's official ending, but I could stop thinking about an even more distant future. So I started to write it. Not in English, because that's not my native language. A very good translation program and a lot of work made it possible to now post the first chapter in English, for those of you who ponder about an older Link and Zelda as well.
Please forgive me any mistakes, especially punctuation errors, I suck at those in my own language as well :)
Anyway, let's get started. Thank you for joining in.
As a little girl, Zelda had often imagined her future. When and how the sacred sealing power would awaken in her.
The sacred power that everyone said was dormant in her, because the goddess Hylia had given it to another Zelda a long time ago. Another Zelda...
A girl that she had not been, but then again...she was.
When Zelda was very young, all this had confused her very much. But she had thought about it, again and again. She had imagined being the princess of a kingdom where peace and prosperity reigned. High priestess of her people. And finally: queen.
Then, the future had developed into something fearful and shaped into years of fight and suffering.
Anyway, she had never, neither in the hopeful nor the fearful scenarios she had imagined, seen herself moving heavy objects around a dusty old floor, groaning like an old man going up the stairs.
How ironic, Zelda thought, that her life seemed to revolve around just that in the recent weeks.
Those damn chests.
The breath it would take to loudly curse the heavy chest she was trying to move had run out some time ago. Probably because she moaned loudly every time she managed to tug at the heavy iron handle. Not much air left to form curse words.
Oh Goddess!
Groaning, she pulled on the circular handle that someone with more strength - or with more arms - would surely have used to lift the object. She, a woman with more head than muscle strength, had no choice but to pull and tug to get the darn thing to move at least a few inches across the stone floor. The satisfying scraping sound was accompanied only by her loud breathing. And even louder moaning.
Sweat was already collecting under her shirt and her fingers felt as if they had rusted around the wrought iron handle.
But she had almost made it. Just a little bit more.
Just a little more ... a brutal jolt ran through Zelda as her movement was suddenly stopped. The heavy box was ripped from her fingers, the weight far too heavy to hold on. She staggered, frozen in the powerful tugging movement with which she had tried to get the chest to budge.
At the same moment, Zelda realized the reason for the sudden, violent stop: someone's leg rested on top of the chest. A leg that belonged to a person.
Startled, her whole body jerked and she winced so violently that she hurt herself in the process.
Everything happened so fast, that time and space momentarily lost their points of reference. Everything seemed to consist only of her beating heart and frantic movements. She flailed her arms, desperately trying not to loose her balance. And failed.
Before she could fall, however, she was grabbed by the sleeve and pulled back.
She didn't yet have enough breath to verbally express her terror or the anger that soon followed, but she began to fight the grip instinctively.
"Link," she gasped as she realized who had kicked the chest from her fingers. "You-" Tragically, when Link had scared her half to death, Zelda had gasped quite violently, air that somehow was still stuck in her throat.
She tried to suppress the cough that was building in her lungs, but that made it worse. One spasm after another jolted her body as she convulsively tried to breathe through the fit.
It wasn't until Link put his hand between her shoulder blades and applied gentle pressure that Zelda was able to calm down. She would have preferred him simply patting her on the back. That would have been less intimate.
As her heartbeat calmed a bit, Zelda had time to process the situation for the first time. Immediately she became self-conscious.
What a sight she must have made. With her butt stretched in the air, groaning and sweating like a Goron. That was how Link had found her, making a spectacle of herself, as always.
Imagine, that once upon a time, she had thought herself majestic.
Ridiculous.
If Zelda's head hadn't already been a bright red because of the violent coughing fit, shame, flowing through her like a hot river, would have done just that.
Embarrassed and annoyed, she took a step back.
Link couldn't retrieve his arm as quickly as she backed off. His hand therefore gently brushed along her shoulder as she turned away. The touch caused the fine hairs on the skin of her neck to rise. Zelda shivered. Then a wave of resentment rolled through her.
At the fact that he had seen her in such an unflattering situation - and not for the first time.
About the fact that he had interrupted her so rudely - what an impertinence.
And about the fact that she found it difficult to look at him. In the flickering twilight of the candelabras and the nearby charcoal pan - the only source of heat in the bare, cold library - Link's hair shimmered like antique bronze. Candlelight flattered everyone, but looking at Link almost hurt, the way the shadows cascaded around his face, bathing it in liquid gold.
Zelda felt her nostrils flare. She struggled for a brief moment with controlling her facial expressions and then gave up. Accusingly, she clutched her chest as she forced herself to look Link in the eye.
The shock still sat in her bones and his quietly amused look did nothing to calm her temper.
"Link," she tried again, this time managing to summon a little dignity.
"What are you doing!" It was more of a scolding than a question.
But the bullheaded hero of Hyrule had never been impressed by her tone. He regarded her impassively, and in that quiet, waiting way that always made her feel like a bratty little girl.
"The same thing," Link began, and the slightly rough quality of his voice made Zelda's ears prickle, "I was about to ask you, Princess."
He had always liked to use her title with subtle adjustments of meaning. Today it was a reminder of her rank.
She suspected he hadn't enjoyed the box-pulling. And that was why he had stood on the chest and scared her senseless.
Well. Despite his ideas for chests and whether or not princesses were allowed to pull them, Zelda was on a mission. And she had been for days.
She was looking for records of the last treasurer. Records that hopefully, hopefully still existed and were in readable condition.
"What should I have done, Sir Link?" she asked sweetly.
She did not use his honorific title any more neutrally than he had.
"My ever-so-helpful and loyal appointed knight was not here to help me."
Zelda tilted her head and looked challengingly at said personal knight. Again, it was not easy for her. Looking at him was a little like looking directly into the sun. It dazzled and hurt. At least a little bit.
"Any idea where he's been hanging out?"
Yeah, it was mean. And not fair.
One of the many tasks Link had taken on after Ganon was sealed, was to build and oversee the new guard, and thus develop a fighting force. Even if it was still very small.
In addition, he was always on hand to help with the work around the castle.
The latter in particular had led to his shoulders and arms becoming so strong in recent years that his stature was less like that of a wiry Shiekah warrior and more like one of a woodcutter or stonemason.
You didn't fight Ganon single-handedly and heave stone after stone in a ruined castle without building some serious muscle.
Link had always been in excellent shape. Strong and fast and efficient in his movements, almost elegant. But this Link was a whole different league altogether. In addition, he had grown a few inches - quite normal for Hylian men, whose physical maturity took them a bit longer than the females.
So Link had neither time nor was it necessary for him to stay constantly at her side, as he had done a hundred years ago. Except from falling stones, Zelda faced no danger in the castle, and the library was free of those.
The roof was makeshift but neatly repaired and free of debris and the remnants of a hundred years of monster rule.
Moreover, the hall-like room was almost empty except for the old wooden shelves, which were in surprisingly good condition. Many of the books that had so colourfully contributed to the educational, wondrous atmosphere of this place with their magnificent bindings, had been removed from storage to protect them from further deterioration. Some of them were with private scribes who had willingly taken them in. Either for copying or restoration. A work that would drag on for many decades.
Without the books and scrolls, the library looked bare and sad. But at least it was no longer raining in.
As much as it pained Zelda, there were other priorities. The top one was the people of Hyrule. Their care and protection.
After that came a reasonably intact infrastructure. Almost as important was a sense of security and prosperity. A positive spirit. And for none of that a huge library was needed.
Link interrupted her thoughts by retrieving a plate from somehow behind him.
A plate on which a gigantic piece of cake throned enticingly.
Instantly, Zelda's subtle irritation evaporated and was replaced by deep gratitude. Her stomach performed an enthusiastic acrobatic movement, which it punctuated with a loud grumble. Briefly, her knees went weak.
At the same time, a longing sigh escaped Zelda.
"He's been hanging around the kitchen," Link replied. "And there, at the risk of his life I have to say, he stole a piece of cake for the princess who skipped her evening meal." He met her gaze, an amused expression on his face. "Now will you be a tiny bit more sensible and sit down for a minute?"
She was vulnerable to blackmail. It wasn't a good quality for a future queen, but it was a fact of life.
"Maybe very briefly..." Zelda pursed her mouth. She really wanted that cake.
With a nod of his head, Link motioned her to follow him to the table, where he unceremoniously pushed aside the mess of her notes and moved a huge slice of bread, topped with thick slices of cheese, to the centre. Then he picked up an apple from somewhere.
Again Zelda sighed. She had probably noticed her hunger, but hadn't found time to do anything about it.
"Did I ever tell you that you were my favourite appointed knight?
He snorted softly and gave her a sardonic look from under heavy lids. For Link, this was downright expressive.
"Your appreciation honours me." From his tone, the absolute opposite was true. But Zelda ignored him and reached for the bread while he pulled up a chair of his own and spun it around with a casual motion. He sat down with his legs wide apart, his forearms resting loosely on the backrest, which now faced the edge of the table.
"Don't choke," he said helpfully, and the corners of his mouth twitched in a hint of a smile as Zelda gave him a dirty look. If she didn't chew, she probably would have stuck out her tongue.
But she was quick to forgive him, being far too busy melting down into a small puddle of hungry pleasure.
She let out a culinary-inspired hum of delight that she was just a tiny bit ashamed of.
Simple fare had always tasted better to her than fancy food. Zelda would not shed a single tear for the feasts and banquets of former court life.
Link watched without pulling a face as she devoured the bread and apple in record time and then pulled the plate of cake closer to her.
"When was the last time you ate something?" he finally asked her, his tone no longer casual.
Zelda shrugged, at which point his silence became deafening. His look made his thoughts obvious. At least to her. For Link, it would be easier to forget breathing than to skip a meal. It was nice that even a hundred years of sleep and memory loss couldn't change some things.
"Why didn't you ask Dorian to help you?" he asked after some time of amicable - and from Zelda's side, gluttonous - silence.
She looked up from her fruitcake. She suspected Link was talking about her pulling a heavy chest across the library floor.
"Because I didn't know he was there."
Dorian had followed Link from Kakariko even before the plan to build a new guard had been formed. He was not officially part of the Guard, but helped train the new recruits. He was capable and his loyalty to Link knew no bounds. Dorian had made himself irreplaceable. Zelda liked him as much as his adorable daughters, even though they still spent a lot of time in Kakariko.
"Where is he?"
Link frowned and regarded her with an unusually stern look.
Unaffected, Zelda took another bite of her cake. The bottom was wonderfully soft and thickly sliced, so the heat of the oven had not yet completely escaped.
It was absolute heaven.
"In bed," Link finally said, after Zelda had resigned herself to the fact that he would not answer. It happened often enough, that he just kept quiet, driving her up the wall.
"Just like everyone else." His right eyebrow twitched briefly. "Almost everyone."
"If you want to go to sleep, go to sleep." Even to her own ears, her voice sounded defensive. Again she bit and chewed, her brow perceptibly furrowed.
These underlying admonishments were getting her nowhere. She had a country to rebuild. Which she had brought into this state of decay with her own failings.
What were a few hours of sleep?
"That's not what I meant," Link said quietly. With anyone else, it would have sounded ironic. But Link almost always spoke that way. Serene. Almost emotionless. So that sometimes you didn't even notice the individual little barbs with which he punctuated his words. The fine humour of which he had hardly shown anything a hundred years ago, but that emerged more often now, as if he could no longer hold back this side of himself. Or as if he no longer wanted to.
Zelda vividly remembered the first deeper conversations she had almost had to force him into. Back then, when she still feared he would despise her and he was the stoic knight who silently followed her day by day. Whom she treated terribly and yet who had never thought ill of her or treated her with anything but sincerity and loyalty.
She could still see in her mind's eye the look of confusion that had slowly appeared on his otherwise expressionless face as she just kept pestering him with questions. His understanding when it dawned on him that she was really interested in the answers.
He had talked to her before that, too. But she hadn't wanted to hear any of it. The honorific salutations, the address by title, the respectful distance, all that had unsettled Zelda and had made her angry.
Until she had understood him. Until she had seen that Link, behind the persona of the untouchable hero, was fighting his own battles, both with himself and the expectations that were placed on him.
Until she had burned her own judgments and prepared the ground for the special friendship that had grown between them.
The hero and the princess.
Even if the hero's gaze still transfigured from time to time, when old memories popped into his head out of nowhere or his jaw tightened because the lack of knowledge about the past frustrated him.
Even though the princess could now only sporadically feel her sacred powers and often enough lay awake at night, because her thoughts revolved around the future of her shattered kingdom.
At least there was no doubt about it: they were who they were. And Hyrule still needed them.
Not for the first time, Zelda felt strong pity for the poor souls, who were born into this world and had to make do with her as a princess. There really were easier fates.
"Are you going to tell me?" Link's quiet question snapped the thread that had spun Zelda's thoughts into a web. She realized that she had just been sitting there staring at nothing for some time. There were only a few crumbs left on the plate in front of her. She had devoured her cake as if in a trance, not noticing anything.
A little stunned, she met Link's gaze. His blue eyes shone as contrastingly as ever under thick, dark lashes, revealing next to nothing about what he was thinking.
"Say what?" The confusion in her voice was genuine. She didn't know what he meant.
Link let a heavy pause pass, a rhetorical device he used frequently, and not just when he was talking to her.
The hero of Hyrule was a master of the active silence.
"Whatever it is, that keeps you awake at night."
And that makes you as irritable as a startled mountain goat.
Even though the comparison was apt, Link didn't say it out loud. It would only have hurt Zelda. Sometimes she took things too literally.
Link watched in anticipation as she tugged anxiously at her earlobe. An innocent, endearing gesture that made something in his chest tighten.
She could seem so aloof. So serious. Even haughty from time to time.
But in that moment, he could clearly see the vulnerability woven firmly into her being. The result of years of criticism, isolation and self-doubt. Even a hundred years of permanent battle against and victory over a demon king had not been enough to fully heal those old wounds.
It had taken Link a while to make sense of this complex princess. To bring together the different sides of her character into one picture. In his mind, the different impressions and scraps of memory waged war against each other often enough.
But Zelda ... Zelda was the only thing in his crazy life that made sense.
The instinct to protect her had driven him when she had been only a voice. The voice and the light that had brought him out of the darkness. Back into the world. Back into life.
She herself was pure life, colourful and contrasting. Regal and playful. Serious and girlish. Sacrificial and emotional. Defiant. Alone. Strong. So endlessly strong.
She had fascinated him since the first images had appeared in his mind, the first reminders of a life he was supposed to have lived, but knew nothing about.
But the shock of seeing her with his own eyes, on the field in the middle of Hyrule, the vapours of Ganon's malice not yet completely gone from the air, he still hadn't quite gotten over.
Sometimes he caught himself just staring at her. Absorbing the sight of her and holding on to it. As if a part of him was afraid of losing sight of her again.
But Link tried not to think about it too much.
He simply accepted. Accepted the bonds of fate that chained them together. Bonds that not even the gruelling forces of time could harm.
These ties were telling him, that something was no right.
Only someone who looked very closely would notice, but Link always looked very closely and to him it was abundantly clear that Zelda worried.
Worry gnawed at her and it almost drove him crazy that he didn't know why. She had even lost weight.
But he had learned that he could not pushed Zelda into anything. Nothing made her more stubborn and defiant. Patience had always gotten him farer and so he spent a lot of time just waiting. Waiting for the right moment.
Maybe it had come now. Maybe it hadn't. But Link couldn't hold back the words any longer.
"Tell me what you need, Zelda." Only years of drill he only partially remembered, but which had become so much flesh and blood that he didn't even need the memory, prevented him from reaching out and touching her. He would not go down that path.
It only gave him silly ideas.
"What can I do?" It wasn't a question. It was a plea. Zelda must have sensed the brittle quality in his voice, because she looked at him questioningly.
Only briefly did Link allow himself the feeling of discomfort that set his ears on fire. Then he inwardly pull up his shields. It didn't matter what she thought. It was his job to protect her from harm. In every possible way. That included the occasional plea.
Zelda avoided his gaze, but he saw and felt her fading resistance.
A barely perceptible hardness disappeared from her eyes, like an evil spirit draining away, letting the real Zelda come to light. Tired. Soft. Filled to the brim with feelings she didn't know how to handle.
How much Link wanted to take her in his arms. To pull her close and offer his shoulder to share the burden.
But she would never let that happen.
Closeness and touch were something that had to come from her, unless she was in physical danger.
Those were the unspoken rules. And Link abided by them. It was better that way.
A heavy sigh lifted Zelda's chest and she began chewing on her lower lip. A sign that she was searching for words.
Link wished she would just confide in him. This invisible cage of isolation she had built around herself was worse than the loneliness she had found herself in a hundred years ago. Back when she had loathed Link.
He knew it was his own fault. It only made it harder to bear.
His first words after sealing away the demon had laid the foundation for this cage. The answer he had given her, five years ago, when Ganon had been defeated and Hyrule had been freed from devastation.
Do you remember? Do you know who I am?
After a silence far too long, during which her glowing smile had grown duller and duller, sustained only by bravery and kindness, he had spoken the truth. A truth he wished he had modified a little, almost every day since.
Memories are incomplete. Princess, we should seek shelter from the rain.
Even though the rapidly building storm front, with which Hyrule wanted to wash itself clean of the evil that had been Ganon, had certainly posed a serious threat, he just had been overwhelmed. And that had made him answer so tightly.
Sometimes he could justify it to himself. The rush of battle fresh in his veins, the triumph of victory, and then Zelda.
Zelda.
Everything had poured in. Memories, questions, words, images, tangling with the dreams that haunted him from the moment he had retrieved the sacred sword.
The golden sight of her, the deep feeling of recognition and ... everything.
Zelda.
He hadn't been able to process. Especially since the instinct to protect her, so contrasted with the splendour of her sacred powers he had just been blessed to witness, had nearly knocked him over. He had wanted to wrap her in all his special armour at the once and even then, he would have been afraid to harm a hair on her head. It was disturbing and a lot to absorb. And at the same time, he hadn't known whether to kiss her hand, hug her, or get down on one knee in front of her.
He had been petrified.
Logically, it was a perfectly human reaction to sensory overload. But that didn't make it any better.
His reaction had hurt Zelda to a depth that apparently could not be healed. No matter how he acted, she remained distant.
They were friends. They were confidants. They were princess and hero of Hyrule, welded together in a way that was unparalleled. But there was a line drawn between them that was not crossed. Never.
Link was grateful for this line. And at times, he wanted to drop a bomb on it.
"You already do so much," Zelda finally said gently, her gaze fixed somewhere in the shadows of the abandoned library. "And I thank you for it too rarely."
Link suppressed the impulse to respond with irony.
That would only make her ramparts go up again.
"Zelda-" He leaned forward, so that she needed to look at him. Her eyes glittered in the twilight of the charcoal pans and candlesticks, small green waters full of emotion, formed like the delicate pits of an apricot.
"Talk to me. Please."
The corners of her mouth trembled and a swallow moved the soft skin of her throat. Link's gaze flickered briefly to that vulnerable spot, the life that pulsed there so precious to him.
With the fingernail of her index finger, she scratched an invisible pattern into the wood of the table, the pressure too weak to do any harm, the movement completely unconscious.
"I don't know where to begin," she finally confessed in a hushed voice, raw with suppressed emotion.
Relief flowed hotly through Link and involuntarily he straightened up a little.
"Why are these chests so important?" he asked briskly, so she didn't have enough time to think.
"I'm looking for records of the old Treasurer," she said, pulling her hand away.
"He had some interesting ideas about reforming the tax system," she continued, without Link needing to inquire further. "I was often present when the king consulted with his ministers, and the idea of changing the form of tax levies came up a few times."
Link knew of King Bosphoramus preparing his daughter for her eventual office as regent of the realm, in addition to her duties as high priestess and princess of Hyrule.
Zelda had shown a lot of understanding in these matters during the last years. She knew how to direct a state, which helped decisively in the rebuilding of the empire. Her ability to combine her interest and knowledge of ancient technologies with the many new tasks she had to deal with as princess of a traumatized kingdom seemed almost acrobatic.
Using Vah Medoh to transport stones from the recommissioned quarries in the Gerudo Mountains to Hyrule Castle was just one of these innovative ideas.
So the fact that it was taxes that were depriving this inventive, original princess of sleep at night, surprised him.
"Taxes?" asked Link a little perplexed. Zelda shot him an understanding glance. "I know what you're thinking," she said before he could respond.
"The peoples of Hyrule have suffered tremendously. We are so few and have so little. And then they are supposed to pay taxes? For what, most of all? I can hardly offer them protection. It was enough work to convince them that ancient technologies no longer pose a threat. Protecting them is something they'll probably never trust me with again."
She shook her head slightly. Link opened his mouth to interject, to tell her, that she misunderstood him, but now that she had started, there was no stopping her flow of words.
"But no matter how I spin it, we need a tax system." Her face took on a desperate expression.
"I can't force anyone to work on the construction sites or be part of the Guard. I have to be able to pay them."
She made an emphatic gesture with her hand.
"And I can no longer do that in rupees, as there is too little in the treasury to do so. Even if I accept your offer and factor in the fortune in collected gems you've somehow managed to amass," she gave him a quick indulgent glance, "which I won't, it's not enough." She took a deep breath and leaned back slightly.
"I cannot ask my people to work away from their families without pay. How will the economy get a boost and trade flourish anew?"
Again she nibbled her lower lip, biting at it with small white teeth. The sight distracted Link long enough that he again missed the moment to interrupt her.
"The treasurer had the idea of minting a coin for the sole purpose, that only in this currency can the tax be paid. This alone creates the value of the coin and-" She raised her right hand, "no one is forced to pay in natural produce."
Abruptly, the stream of words ended and her hand dropped back down to clutch the tabletop.
"That wasn't what I thought."
It was the first thing that came to his mind, and when Zelda blinked briefly in confusion, he forced himself to continue speaking.
"I didn't think your people would be unwilling to pay taxes."
She raised to object, but Link raised his hand defensively.
"Zelda, I don't think you know the gratitude all of Hyrule feels," he said calmly and emphatically, with enough gentleness that she couldn't resist the truth in his words.
"I do. I've been out there. Everyone knows the sacrifice you made. A hundred years you stopped Ganon. You're the reason they're alive. You alone. You!"
He lowered his head as she avoided his gaze, keeping her eyes locked with it.
"Zelda, why do you think so many have come here? Why are there houses in Hyrule City again? Why does a place to live exist here?"
Link didn't give her time to answer. "They are here because of you. It's like you said, just before we left for Vah Ruta the first time, when he stood still. The people of this realm are strong. They can build a Hyrule more beautiful than ever before."
As always when he quoted her, Zelda looked like she didn't know exactly whether to be flattered or annoyed.
"I still think so," she replied, "but I can't exploit them for it. They deserve a reward for the hard work that lies ahead."
Link nodded slowly. "It's a good idea."
Zelda blinked a little dumbfounded, which made him smile. "Of course it's a good idea, what did you think I was going to say?"
Her brow furrowed a few adorable wrinkles. "You said I misunderstood you."
"Because, as usual, you assumed the worst. I only wanted to express that I would not have found even a normal tax collection as tyrannical as you seem to."
Thoughtfully, she met his gaze.
"Zelda, as always, you found best compromise by following your instinct. So what's the problem? What else did that treasurer say?"
A shadow briefly flitted across her face, as it always did when Link let it slip that he was missing some memories, and briefly he was annoyed with himself for his rash choice of words.
But she fortunately didn't linger long on the guilt he knew overtook her in those moments. No matter how many times he assured her that his memory was not her responsibility, Zelda still blamed herself for it.
"He wrote a paper about possible mining areas for the source materials and minting methods. And about other details that are less important, but that I want to read up on."
Link nodded. "Do you need help going through the chests?"
She shook her head slightly. "I don't even know what exactly I'm looking for. I know the treasurer was pedantically organized. And I've found some of his accounting records of the state budget, and some old listings of the treasury estates. But these are all official records."
Warmth rose in Link as he noticed the tension in Zelda's shoulders ease. It did her good to talk about what had been troubling her these past few days.
At least this once he had taken the right approach.
"Where was his chamber?"
Surprised by the change of subject, she looked at him. "He occupied a few rooms in the north wing with his family. That area is completely buried." Her gaze turned suspicious. "Why?"
"Perhaps he kept his more cerebral records in another place. In a more private place."
She shook her head. "He submitted it as an official draft."
"A pedant like him? I'm sure he made a copy."
"You want to look for it." She knew him well. Link just shrugged. "It's worth a shot."
"Link... you don't have to do that."
Yes, he did, he had to. He really had to. But he didn't tell her that.
"You should go to bed, Zelda. Tomorrow is another day."
Sighing, she looked behind her toward the abandoned chest.
"Go to bed," Link repeated. "Please."
She gave him a look of severe distress that made him smile. Then she rose hesitantly, the movement full of resistance matched by fatigue.
"Do you want me to carry you?" The teasing question had its desired effect.
She looked at him with indignation, but looked a bit more energized. Sometimes she was easily directed. And then again she seemed to him the greatest mystery that existed in this world.
With an innocent expression, he raised his hands as he stood up. "It was only a question in my duty as your appointed knight."
There was no sharpness in the way she glared at him with feigned contempt.
"You are fortunate that the prison was destroyed, Sir Link. Impertinence was not well tolerated by the royal family of Hyrule."
Link lit a torch at one of the braziers and followed Zelda into the shadows of the corridor that led out of the library toward her chambers.
Since work had begun on Hyrule Castle, Zelda's old tower had been repaired first. She had opposed it, had attributed higher importance to other rooms, but no one had wanted to hear about it. The princess of the realm sleeping in a wooden hut in the rebuilding settlement where Hyrule City had stood?
That was unthinkable.
At some point, Zelda had stopped resisting and had finally moved into her old chambers.
"There's always the dungeon," Link helped on. He heard Zelda snort beside him.
"The dungeon you turned into guard quarters? That would certainly be a great punishment."
The corners of Link's mouth twitched as they turned down another hallway.
"If it helps, I don't think a cell exists that I couldn't get out of." It was meant to sound a little arrogant, but it was true nonetheless.
"It doesn't, thank you," Zelda said coolly. Then she giggled. Link gave her an affectionate look, one he was grateful no one was watching.
They spent much of the walk in silence, which didn't bother him. Zelda briefly asked him about his plans to make a new recruiting trip across the country. But Link changed the subject as quickly as possible. He didn't like to talk about these trips. For several reasons. But on the surface, he didn't want her thinking about government business any more that night, even if he'd probably have to give her a strong sleeping potion to do it.
As always when he took her to her chambers, Link took a quick look around the room. Old instincts that couldn't be erased probably. And as always, Zelda watched him with an amused expression.
He lit a few candles in the dark room and then extinguished the torch.
"No more brooding, promise me." Of course, she didn't have to promise him anything. They both knew that. But Zelda allowed him this illusion of influence over her and nodded.
"I swear to Hylia."
She was probably too tired to consider the implications of such an oath. Link left it at that and wished her a good night.
As always, he felt a certain uneasiness when he left her alone to retire to his own room a few doors down. It had been a maid's chamber and accordingly small, and only with great persuasion had Zelda allowed him to move into it. They had argued about what was proper for the chosen and proven hero of Hyrule.
But there was no way around the fact that he needed to be near her. He had never revealed to Zelda how deeply rooted that need was. She suspected that he was being deliberately demanding, unnecessarily invoking his status as a her personal guard.
But it was not that. He needed it for his own salvation.
In the end, he had faced her with the decision that he would either sleep in the small chamber near hers or right outside her door. Finally, she had given in.
Inside the small room, Link quickly removed his clothes, then wiped himself down with a cloth. With his index finger, he applied a little salt to his teeth and briefly rinsed his mouth. Then he opened the shutters so that the first light of the day would wake him, and after dressing himself again in makeshift clothes, he settled down on the bed.
He had hardly thought about it before the decision was made. Like the hypocrite he was, he put on his boots and left the room again.
Zelda wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. Wide awake and almost vibrating with energy, Link silently found his way through the corridors.
It was impossible for him to sleep when Zelda had a problem. He lived to protect her from any harm. He had sworn that on his knees. And even without the sketchy memories of that moment, he felt it in every fiber of his bones.
And he would not rest until he had at least tried to solve the problem.
~ mit Feuer gemalt