A/N: For the purpose of fleshing out some background information, I consider this story to be in the same AU with two of my other fics- Unintentional Consequences of Memory Retrieval and Do You Like Me? Check One: [x] Yes [_] No.
Princess Zelda, along with her last remaining Champion and faithful knight attendant, Link, managed to spend an entire week in Kakariko Village before its protective circle of mountains, and the inhabitants they sheltered, went from feeling like a comforting support to an overbearing presence. The isolated Sheikah-run town had been their first stop in their impromptu tour of informing the kingdom's populace of their success in vanquishing the Calamity, and it was their last stop before setting up their more-or-less permanent residence in Hateno. They hadn't discussed how long they would stay in any one place, leaving it up to the princess' whims. Up till now, they had flitted from town to town like messenger birds, staying a night or two and promising to return for a longer visit in the near future. On the way to Kakariko Village, Zelda mentioned needing a base of operations, one that wasn't thick with memories of loss and destruction, one that did not hold the lingering stench of Malice, and Link, with a renewed twinkle that Zelda so loved to see in her knight's eye, replied, "Did I ever tell you that I'm a homeowner now?"
But before they could retire to his country bungalow, Zelda needed to attend to one final piece of royal business. After the initial shock of seeing both princess and knight alive, healthy, and triumphant wore off, it was back to business as usual for Impa, and in the intervening days between their visits, she had enthusiastically resumed her role as royal advisor. With the help of her granddaughter, Paya, she had unearthed vast reams of paperwork that dated back to the three most recent rulers of Hyrule, with selected works from even more distant times, and these she pressed upon Zelda at her return. Impa insisted that she was to read carefully through the assembled materials, the tone of her aged but clear voice subtly suggesting that strict adherence to her advice must be paid, or dire consequences would be suffered.
"I remember the castle's library well, even though it has been many years since I have walked through its aisles. I do not know what resources there have been lost to the depredations of evil and time. Here, in my personal archives, I hope you will find some wisdom to guide your future rule."
Impa's 'personal archives' were stacked around the perimeter of the house's central room, shrinking the usable space in it by a third or more.
Zelda gazed wide-eyed in admiration at the trove of books and papers surrounding her. "But there's so much here! How did you know to keep it all safe?"
"It has been the work of my lifetime. I have led and organized many rescue parties to recover these materials from the castle over the years. Treasure hunters aren't the only ones taking priceless relics from the castle, I'll have you know." Impa rubbed some invisible dust off of the crate she stood next to, a pleased little smile lifting the corner of her mouth in a subtle show of pride.
A wavering trickle of uncertainty made its way down Zelda's spine to settle alongside the excitement she had first felt after seeing the transformed room. This might be all that remains of the written history of Hyrule. And now it is my kingdom. My responsibility to rule. She looked over to a large, leather bound book that rested atop a stack of similar tomes. This one was titled Royal Biographies, vol. CLXVII: The First Thirty Years of the Life of King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, and when she read her father's name, her excitement left her all at once, like a candle blown out in a stiff breeze. Her uncertainty met its new companion— grief.
Her surroundings wavered, and for one terrifying instant, she thought she was back in the castle, attempting to reach out with her divine sight from her place within the chitinous wrappings of Calamity Ganon. She blinked, her vision cleared, and she was surprised to feel several hot tears land on the back of her hand. She found herself leaning over the book, hand obscuring the words on the cover, and without raising her head, she addressed Impa, "I will be ready to begin my lessons shortly. Please, I—" she could feel the old woman's eyes on her, pity and sympathy coming together to target all her weaknesses— "I need a few moments to refresh myself." I need to be alone! No, not alone, just away from her judging stare. The back room of the house beckoned, a basin of cool water ready for her to plunge her sorrows into.
In the afternoon on the sixth day of their visit, Impa and Zelda were deep in conversation over the complicated details of reconstruction. Impa, noble as ever, sat empty-handed on her stack of pillows and fielded a steady stream of questions from Zelda, who had sat herself on the ground on a single, much smaller cushion and was surrounded by haphazard piles of books and papers. Crates of parchments and additional books had been dragged from their original places to encircle the women in a wide secondary ring.
"According to this law, permanent housing for all affected residents must be secured within three months of any natural disaster! But with regards to subsection B, rebuilding cannot proceed without an official survey, and the surveyor's guild has been disbanded for seventy-two years!" Zelda shook her head in frustration from her place amid the towering stacks of books and smoothed out the sheet of paper she had been crumpling in her grasp.
"This is worse than starting from scratch. Building a kingdom back up from half-destroyed foundations is utterly confusing. What takes precedence? What is useless, and what is necessary? What if some scholar, or the mayor of a town comes along and tells me that I'm doing it all wrong?" Panic began to creep into Zelda's words as she voiced her feeling of growing ineptitude.
In a firm, yet gently encouraging voice, Impa prompted, "That's another item to put on your list, dear. Remember, you have to take issues one at a time, weigh their importance and severity, and delegate. You were born to this role, and you will rise to the occasion."
"Yes, and I was also born to seal the Calamity, and look how well that turned out," Zelda muttered under her breath.
"What was that, dear?"
"Oh nothing, just thinking aloud," she said with a practiced smile. "Could you please pass me that stack marked, 'Town Plotting Guidelines', it's to your left."
In the same room, Link stood by the doorway in a space he had cleared of clutter, facing a window and half asleep. The fragments of his previous life left in his subconscious told him to be within eyesight of the princess at all times, but the dim of time and his comfortable surroundings left him lax in the details of his duty. He let the women's conversation wash over him, aware of the tone of their words, but not the specific content. Zelda's panicked voice roused him from his daydream, and he turned halfway from the window to concentrate on what was causing her distress.
Minutes before, Paya had excused herself from the discussion, and was now returning to the room with a heavily laden tea tray. She put it down without comment after cleaning off a low table which had been pulled up next to the two ladies. Zelda glanced at the overflowing dishes of apples, roasted nuts, and pie slices wedged in amongst the tea cups and pot, and thought with some irritation, Typical Shiekah hospitality. That is entirely too much food. What a waste.
Her appetite had yet to recover from her disconnection from the physical realm while containing Calamity Ganon, and she had spent the last few weeks subsisting on a diet composed mainly of elixirs, assorted broths, and tea. Solid foods were still beyond her ability and desire to consume. Then Zelda looked up at Paya, who had frozen, still crouched over the tray with her eyes locked on the sleepy knight in the corner, and she understood the reason for the unusual bounty immediately. Sometimes she forgot her knight could out-eat a hinox.
Paya and Link had been exchanging a series of increasingly nervous and awkward glances over the last few days, and neither of them had spoken more than a polite and innocuous word or two to the other in all that time. Zelda understood how Paya felt, even though it had taken her considerably longer to recognize her feelings for what they were. Paya seemed to have no such problem on that front, as she was easier to read than the royal decrees she held in her hand.
What Zelda didn't understand was why Link was acting in a similar manner. I would have known if there was something between them, she thought. Or he would have told me. Wouldn't he?
Too much of her time before the Calamity had been spent deciphering the static moods of her knight protector. Now it seemed she would have to begin her studies anew. His new candor still startled her. The ease at which Link talked and laughed was by turns refreshing and confounding to Zelda, who wondered what other changes his memory loss had caused in him. She sensed that, like the wide open sea hid its unseen depths, his openness hid many new secrets.
Something about Paya's abrupt lack of movement must have attracted Link's attention, and he swiveled his head to meet her gaze. Zelda was called back to her conversation by a pointed question from Impa, so she missed whatever nonverbal communication passed behind her back, but she did hear two sets of footsteps leave the room, followed by Paya's mumbled, "Please excuse me," and then she heard the door slide shut after them.
"I think we should take a small break while we await Paya's return. It is for her benefit that she understands the process of decision making at the royal level. I have been teaching her for a few years now in anticipation of your return, but there's nothing like a practical lesson to really make sure the information sticks. Having another perspective on a problem can really help solve it." Impa reached over to the tray and selected a piece of pumpkin pie. "Would you pour some tea, dear?"
Zelda served the tea and nibbled on bits of apple she'd sliced thin enough to become transparent while she thought over Impa's latest advice. Perspective. Perhaps it's time to change perspectives again.
Half an hour later Paya came to collect the tray with its mostly untouched platters of snacks. She moved quietly as always, but her silence had a resigned quality to it that Zelda had never observed in her before. Zelda glanced at her as she dipped near to gather the empty teacup by her elbow, and she noticed that her eyes were limned in red and her skin was splotched with the same unhappy tint. The princess moved to put a comforting hand on her arm, but Paya jerked away and swept off to the kitchen. When she returned, the color in her face had gone down incrementally, but her slouching posture betrayed her sadness.
Paya picked her way around the paper piles and sat on her cushion. "Grandmother. Princess. I am ready to continue," she said with a little hesitation before addressing Zelda. There would be no discussion of Paya's state of mind that afternoon.
Link showed up just before supper with his arms full of flowers. The sweet smell of plum blossoms mingled with the spicier fragrance of silent princesses and drifted across the room to where the women were setting the table for the upcoming meal.
"For the ladies of the house," Link said, mumbling slightly and keeping his gaze focused firmly on the gift in his arms. "Lady Impa, I didn't know what your favorite flower was, so I picked a few different kinds…"
"Isn't that thoughtful!" Zelda cried, hoping to cover the strained silence with her cheerful response. "And such lovely flowers, they'll be sure to remind you of us after we leave tomorrow!" All eyes flew to the princess, who smiled calmly, as if their travel plans had been known from the beginning, instead of suddenly announced thirty seconds ago.
"I'll put them in a vase for you, Master Link," Paya squeaked, and grabbed the flowers from him to run from the room.
"Tomorrow?" Impa protested. She had been 'supervising' the younger women with the brim of her large hat pulled down over her eyes, and now she sat up and readjusted herself to watch the goings-on. "Are you sure you want to leave after such a short time? We've barely begun to go over how to reintroduce a system of lordships, not to mention the issue of the military, and I don't think we have even touched any of the documents against the back wall!"
"Impa, you are an incalculable font of knowledge, and I appreciate everything you have done for Link and I," Zelda began. "With this incredibly thorough overview of my duties and your many enumerated concerns for the country's welfare in this time of transition, I feel confident that I will be up to the challenge of leading my people as their queen. I just need a little bit longer to absorb this influx of information, and to come up with a few ideas on my own schedule. When I am ready to take the next step, you will be the first to know. I promise it won't take long." She had been thinking of what to say all afternoon, and the words flowed remarkably smoothly for only being practiced in her head.
The old woman pursed her lips, displeasure rising in her words. "This country has survived without a head of state or a unifying government for a century, but I do not think it will continue much longer without a guiding hand. Your people need you, Zelda."
Paya came back, shielding her face and most of her upper body with the enormous bouquet of flowers, and set them in the center of the dining table. "I think we should eat before the food gets cold," she said, loud enough to pull Impa's attention away from scolding the princess. Zelda said a little prayer of thanks for Paya's impeccable handling of her grandmother, and walked towards her seat.
"I hope those plum blossoms weren't from Mellie's orchard," Impa admonished, clearly not ready to stop picking a fight, as she sat down at the head of the table.
Link's face paled, and he shook his head adamantly as he protested, "No offense, but she gave me a look like a smacked cucoo when I tried to walk around in there! No way would I ever try to nab a branch from her orchard!"
"It's nice to know that someone still respects their elders," Impa said sweetly, and the room was silent for the rest of the meal.
Up in the privacy of Paya's room at the close of the day, Zelda spared one last thought for Impa, who would undoubtedly get over her disappointment at their abrupt departure, and unleashed her simmering curiosity upon her hapless companion.
"What did you say to her?" It wasn't what she really wanted to ask. Her true question, What did you do with her, stayed unspoken and echoing in her mind, fearful that her unease from earlier, that tiny fear that Link was hiding something from her, would be proven true. She sat next to him on Paya's soft bed, the clean fragrance of the village soap on the sheets fading in submission to the smell of their mingled sweat. She wasn't sure whose job it was to change the sheets, but who ever it was had not done so since the beginning of their stay. Unwanted images of Link and Paya engaging in a series of increasingly passionate activities on that very spot filled Zelda's imagination as she braced herself for his answer. That they could have begun a physical relationship was a faintly ridiculous, yet completely plausible idea to her jealous mind.
"Who? Oh, Paya." Link replied as he looked at Zelda, who was gesturing pointedly at the room around her. "I tried to let her down easy, I swear," he said somberly. "I just told her the truth."
"Which is?" She held her breath. He stared at her, silent for so long she thought her heart would burst. "Stop looking at me like that! I'm not omniscient, Link. You have to say it out loud."
Link picked up her hand and held it to his chest, covering it with his own. His warm, callused fingers stroked her skin gently. "That I love you. And that we're together now."
Zelda's heart did burst then, in an outpouring of love for her hero. The edges of her vision glittered with gold, and she threw herself at him, knocking them both sideways onto the mattress and sending pillows skittering to the floor. "I love you, too," she whispered into the crook of his neck, where she had landed in her excitement. Pressing a kiss into his skin, ignoring the awkward tangle of their arms and legs, she repeated herself. "I love you, too."