Twenty: Gloves are like bras

The rest of the night had passed normally- Sterling had managed to behave towards Zelda as though she was a human worthy of his attention, and Zelda had managed to treat Sterling like a normal human as well, instead of as the jerk she was beginning to see him for. For courtesy's sake, Zelda danced with both Sterling and Jarrett once, and Link twice.

"Lalalalala." Link sang to Zelda as they'd turned across the floor. "You look relieved. Less stressed?"

"I'm feeling better. I mean, I'm upset, of course, as I just got dumped on my but basically, but really, I'm not too bad. How'd you notice?" Zelda asked, trying hard not to purposely step on his foot.

"You just told me."

"I hate you." Zelda flicked Link on the nose, laughing as he crumpled up his face in offense.

"Now, that wasn't very nice."

"Well I'm a princess." Zelda shook her head imperiously, her coiffure staying in firm place. "I can do whatever I want. The hell with being nice."

"Indeed, princess," stated Link with mock gravity. "But I'll let you know that for every time you get yourself in trouble, like you did with Sterling, I'll be there to save you."

"Why thank you Mr. Hero, but this princess doesn't need rescuing," Zelda stated contemptuously. "Nor will she ever. After this one time, that is." She had the sense to try and look ashamed. Not that she did very well- her smirk was too big.

The party had ended late into the night, and Zelda had piled into the limo with the exhausted Tudors (Saria and Jayda were unconscious) and her father, who had, oddly, had one too many martinis, and insisted on calling Zelda 'Aileen.' Every time she heard her mother's name, Zelda winced. Link's warm hand suffered a painful, bone-shattering squeeze whenever this happened. She thanked god that she at least had him. He'd been an angel to her that night.

She was glad to get back to the house, which was buzzing sleepily, and was glad to be alone in her room. She wasn't tired, though, so she took her hair down, removing the many bobby pins, and then took a long, hot shower, scrubbing herself clean and then just letting the warm water soak her through. She stepped out and pulled a fluffy white towel around herself, clipped her sopping wet hair up, and then padded around, first looking for underwear, and then on a search for her favorite pair of pajama pants, a navy and forest-green plaid pair she'd stolen from Link, back when the weather had started to go cold. Still not tired, she pulled on a faded, hole-riddled, soft gray Grateful Dead tee that had seen too many washings, then a simple, soft green long-sleeved button up (also Link's) and slid into her slippers, on a mission of something or other concerning food. She doubted many people would be awake at this ungodly hour of three twenty seven, so she trooped down the silent hallway and, for the first time in what felt like forever, she slid down the banister of the steep staircase, the feel of flight exhilarating her. She landed, her excess momentum sending her running, and it took half the usual time for her to get into the kitchen, trying not to laugh as she did so. She spun a few times in the darkness, then flipped the light switch and walked through the massive chef's dream to the fridge.

Zelda opened up the sleek, industrial-sized stainless steel door and pulled out a gallon of milk, and then walked to one of the cupboards and pulled out an expensive glass. She poured the milk into the glass, enjoying the sloshing sound it made, and then shoved the jug back into the fridge and wandered to the massive walk-in pantry. If she remembered correctly, there were always Oreos in the pantry, mostly due to Zelda's odd habit of midnight snacking, a habit that hadn't resurfaced until that very night, despite the length of her stay there so far.

She remembered right. Grinning, Zelda pulled out the package of 'double stuf' Oreos and closed the massive pantry door with her foot, wandering again to the gargantuan cabinets and pulling out an expensive plate, plopping it easily down on the granite island, next to her glass of milk. Feeling more at home than she had since she'd arrived (with the exception of stepping into her room), Zelda hopped up onto the counter and began to munch.

Ah, yes, this was life, she told herself contentedly as she dunked an Oreo into the big glass of milk. She was all alone in a massive kitchen at three in the morning, eating Oreos and milk and sitting on the expensive granite that one of the maids would kill her for sitting on, never mind that it was her house in the first place….

There was a squeak as the waiter's doors that led into the kitchen were pushed open. "Ah….."

"Eep!" Caught in the act. Zelda squeaked and looked up, then her face dissolved into a smile. "Oh, Link, it's just you. What're you doing up?"

"Why, stalking you of course," he stated with a grin, eyeing Zelda and her spot on the counter. "Why are you here?"

"I'm eating cookies and drinking milk at three in the morning, by force of habit. You?"

"Couldn't sleep, actually," he replied, walking over to stand across the island from her. "Thought I'd get some food. Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead, be my guest," Zelda said, hopping down from the counter as Link heaved himself up. "Let me get you some milk."

"Okay, thanks." Link looked obscenely comfortable on the counter, and for a moment, Zelda stopped and took him in. He wore simple, solid green pajama pants and socks, and a white tee that had a picture of a wooden sword, over which "my other sword is vorpal" was inscribed -he'd tried to explain the joke to Zelda but had failed miserably. The shirt clung to his broad shoulders and chest, exposing every well-defined muscle. He leaned his head side to side, his neck cracking audibly as he did so, and then he rolled his shoulders around. Before he noticed her staring, Zelda hurried to pour the milk. What was wrong with her? It was just Link…

"Kind of a funny life you lead," he commented, arms resting on his knees as he watched her. "Isn't it?"

"Oh?" Zelda capped the gallon of milk carefully and put it back in the mammoth fridge, letting the door shut on its own. "How so?"

"Well, on the outside, at least, the face you show to all these people, you seem so… mighty, I guess. Like you're above everything and everyone. You know, like a princess. And then I wander in to find you sitting on the counter in this massive kitchen, eating cookies and drinking milk at three-thirty in the morning looking like just the average teenager, which is exactly what you act like at home. I'm confused. Everything I know about Zelda just got flipped."

"I am just the average teenager," Zelda said, plopping the milk in front of Link and pulling herself up onto the counter. "I mean, as average as I can be, anyway. The whole high-and-mighty thing is just an act. Or not really an act, per-se, but an adaptment to my surroundings, I suppose. You know, Darwinism. Survival of the fittest, adapting, evolution and all that jazz."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Of course it does," replied Zelda with a light laugh. She watched him for a moment, watched his beautiful pianist's hands as they carefully twisted the Oreo open and then promptly dropped both halves into his glass of milk. What a weirdo.

"Disgusting, I know," he stated with a grin, catching Zelda's incredulous look. "You know," he coughed in a slight discomfort, little pinwheels of red appearing on his face, which was still a light brown despite the long-gone summer, "I really am sorry about the Sterling thing, Zelda. It's my fault…."

"It's fine." Zelda took a gulp of milk to hide her shock and pain as the emotional anguish of being ignored resurfaced. "It was just a mistake."

"Still, I feel bad. I want to make it up to you..."

"Just be my friend," she stated simply. "That's all I ask."

"I can do that," Link replied in that beautiful wild voice of his.

They finished up the cookies, chatting quietly, and it was nearly four by the time Zelda had piled the dishes into the dishwasher and stumbled up the stairs with Link, now feeling truly tired.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, embracing her briefly in front of his door.

"At lunch, most likely. I don't think breakfast or lunch is going to be strict until these parties end."

He laughed lightly, gleaming in the blue light of the moon flowing in from the massive windows at the far end of the hall, where the stairwell began. "Probably. Good night, Princess."

"Good night, Hero." They parted ways- she going the rest of the way down her hall, him going into his room, and finally, Zelda entered her room and turned the key in the lock, scooping up all the pillows from her bed and dumping them on the floor, then letting her hair down and crawling in between the soft but warm sheets, closing the drapes, and falling asleep instantly.

Her dreams that night were filled with soft smiles and beautiful blue eyes and heartbreak.

She didn't wake up until nearly eleven the next morning, yawning as she pulled herself out of her bed and into the bright light of her bedroom. She collapsed in her pile of pillows on the floor, just staring at the pink ceiling and the glittering chandelier. Not for the first time, she asked herself, why a chandelier? But the rainbows cast beautiful light all across the walls, and Zelda pretended as she often had that each rainbow was a smile from her mother. Feeling exhausted, she stood and clipped her messy bed-hair up, then peered cautiously out of her room, down the empty hallway. Quickly, hoping nobody would come along, she dashed to the room where Link was staying, knocked softly, and when he called a sleepy "come in" she entered.

"You're up early," Link stated from where he was lying in bed wearing a long sleeved shirt bearing the school's 'Fighting Eagle' mascot.

"Link, it's nearly eleven," she sighed in exasperation.

"Yeah, but you were up late, and you usually make up for that at home," he replied, and rolled over, clutching his pillow. "Come over here. I want to talk."

"You're so lazy," Zelda stated as she turned and sauntered over to the large queen-sized bed, plopping down on one corner and looking at her dearest friend in the world.

"I'm sorry. I really am."

"It's okay, Link," she replied, slightly exasperated. "It was a mistake. Don't worry about it."

"I still feel bad."

"How very kind of you. It's not an issue."

"But I still feel bad,"

"Don't," Zelda replied bluntly. "Honestly, Link. Don't antagonize over it. What's done is done, and… I've moved on." She made a little motion of "moving on" with her hands, and then sighed.

"You haven't have you?"

"Nope."

"Anything I can do?"

"Don't bring it up again."

"Of course." There was silence, and then, "Isn't there another party tonight?"

"Yeah," Zelda replied. "And another again tomorrow night, and then in two days is the wedding, which is an evening wedding, and the reception that night is lasting until at least midnight. Probably closer to three."

"What a mess," Link replied. "And then…. What?"

"After the wedding, some guests'll be leaving and others will be coming. There'll be more parties every night, though not quite as long, until Christmas, which is in a week, and then after Christmas, more parties every night and one long all-night party with lots of booze on New Years' day. Then everybody'll sleep, all day, and then the next day, everybody goes home, basically."

"Sounds exhausting," Link stated, rolling out of bed.

"It is," Zelda replied. "Quite. We'll be leaving with the rest of the guests, since I'm sure you want to go home and be with your friends. I'm sorry you have to be here, Link…."

"It's fine. I'm having fun. You know, this is like staying at a luxury hotel, with celebrities or something, and for free. And really, everybody is going places for Christmas and New Years' anyway, so I don't mind."

"I hope not. Let's go get breakfast."

"Alright, alright." Link stretched his arms and rolled his neck around, then grinned. "I'm going to give Sterling a talking to for you, okay?"

"Don't, please…"

"But he hurt you. He's dead. Nobody hurts my friends."

"Link, I'm sure he could snap you in half," Zelda replied, patting Link's head affectionately. "And I told you, it was a mistake. All he did was have some common courtesy and nothing more. It was stupid of me to make assumptions anyway."

Stately organ music filled the not-so-small chapel. Zelda sat second pew, her fiery crimson dress spread around her like a puddle of lava. Even though it was December, it was hot in the church, and it took all of Zelda's self control to keep from fanning herself with the pamphlet she'd picked up at the door. Her hair was off of her neck, though, and for that she was glad- again, the quaint southern girl had piled it high atop her head, and adorned it with red beads and a single red rose- Zelda wasn't sure were Laura procured the flowers, and, of course, never asked. Her silver pearl-and-ruby bracelet jangled lightly as she reached up and scratched her neck, from which dangled a ridiculously expensive Judith Jack "Tahitian-Style Pearl Necklace", which Audrey had forced her to wear in lieu of the simpler family locket. Zelda's eye was bothering her, but she forced herself not to rub it, because she couldn't run the risk of ruining her eye makeup, especially with so much press around. Yes, as it was the big day, the press was everywhere, snapping pictures of all the famous (and even not-so-famous) faces. Zelda hoped desperately that she wouldn't be featured on the cover of People the next week.

Hardly paying attention, she stood with the congregation and sang, then sat down again, all the while staring at the crucifix on the wall. I know the story behind my goddesses, and I know the truth. But what about you? She asked the form of tormented Jesus, eyeing him with curiosity. I know about the sacred realm and the creation of the world and the triforce, but even then, is there a heaven and a hell? Or an almighty god like you claim? Were the three goddesses merely angels, sent to do your work?

She wished desperately that she had the answers, and she looked at the back of her hand in the hopes that she would find them there in the three triangles that grew clearer with each passing day. At the moment, the triangles were becoming incredibly clear, and the one on the bottom left seemed to be filling in with a strange pattern. Zelda was mildly frightened, but Audrey had assured her that she would provide a solution for the triangles. In the meantime, Zelda hoped no paparazzi would see them and think they were a tattoo and snap a shot and then it would be all over the country. If Zelda's enemies were anything like Audrey had claimed, then Zelda would be in trouble. Lots of trouble. Without noticing it, she covered up her left hand with her right and continued to stare straight ahead.

Alexandria was drinking in all that the priest said from where she was kneeling next to her husband-to-be, son of a rich oil-company owner, with large ears and wild hair and a very prominent nose. Aside from the ears and the nose, though, he was very attractive, and very quiet- he did all that Alexandria asked him to and received love and affection in return. It seemed to Zelda like a bizarre but hardy match- she only hoped that her cousin's "celebrity marriage" would last. With luck.

Zelda wondered how much longer it would be before the wedding was over. She put on her best attentive expression and then released her mind to wander around wherever it pleased.

Alexandra's dress is so pretty, it looks like sparkling snow but the petticoat is so big that it looks like it's going to swallow her, and I bet she's boiling. I'm boiling. This dress is so itchy and hot, and my hand hurts but I don't want to touch it in case I have an incident or something, which would be bad… hah, I can just see it now. What was that big light? Oh, nothing, just some old magic triangle that just so happens to be EMBEDDED IN THE BACK OF MY HAND, go back to your ceremony thanks. What's that? You want to haul me off to the loony bin? No thanks, I don't feel like it today, maybe tomorrow, and while you're at it, I suggest you check out old Virginia Perkins, she thinks her dog is her firstborn daughter… you know, it's funny that the line was always daughters, always, and that all of them accepted their fates. I wonder if there were any that I don't know about that didn't accept, or some rejected daughters or even sons? I don't know about the sons, that's an interesting one… I'll have to ask Audrey, or maybe even look for a book that has my lineage in it somewhere? Like that would ever happen yeah right….

She stood up and began to sing, her thoughts hardly disrupted as she belted out the words she'd learned after being dragged to mass again and again by an old nanny that had never shown Zelda any love or affection.

Wonder where the old hag is now? Wonder if her heart stopped beating again when she found out about the golden three and Hyrule and about the legendary hero and the legendary evil? I can't believe I believe this stuff, I must be really sleep deprived or sick or something because it's just so unreal, but I can't deny it, either, because I've got these stupid triangles on my hand…. Ugh, it itches so much, this is really irritating, but I can't scratch it, must not scratch it….

The song, ended, and Zelda sat back down. Her father grunted, shifting next to her, and Zelda sighed, jerking herself out of her thoughts. Didn't want to disappoint daddy dear, now did she?

Sigh. Her father was so difficult sometimes, but it was good to Zelda to see that he didn't have a bimbo at the moment. She hoped.

It felt like forever before the service was over. When, at last, the vows were taken and the organ boomed out the wedding march, Zelda followed her father out of the church, down the aisle, lightly humming "Blackbird" under her breath. She didn't catch a glimpse of the Tudors, or (thankfully) of Sterling before she found herself ushered out and into the limousine by her father, and she sat there, sipping sparkling water, letting her father have his martini as they wound through the downtown to the wedding reception, where it would be held on top of a massive ritzy hotel, the ritziest by far that they'd attended. Just inside the reception room, Audrey bustled up to Zelda and handed her a pair of red silk gloves.

"Put these on," the older woman instructed. "No chances."

"No chances," Zelda repeated, gratefully pulling the red silk accessories on. "I was starting to worry. Thanks, Audrey."

"Don't mention it, dear." Audrey bustled off to go speak with someone- she was very well liked, and Zelda was left to her own devices. Zelda wandered around the room, to the window overlooking the gardened courtyard below, thinking.

Sterling's parents would be arriving tomorrow. What would they think of her? Would they like her? Would they think she wasn't good enough, or possibly too good? What were they like, she wondered? Was his father cold and uncaring, like Zelda's own? Or was he like Haft, always working, but smiling and loving when he was home? And was Sterling's mother like Impa, always there and warm and happy and a pillar of strength and comfort, even if she was a little spacey at times? Or was she like the dead mother Zelda had never known? There were too many possibilities. It made her head hurt. Wait. Why did she even care? She shouldn't. Oh, no. By all means, she should not care about Sterling Brûlure at all.

Her body told her there was something warm behind her. "Penny for your thoughts."

"Just wondering," she responded, not looking at Link as he moved to stand beside her.

"I see." He looked at her for a moment, and then looked out the window. "Those are nice gloves you're wearing. You weren't wearing them during the ceremony, though, were you?"

"No," Zelda replied absent mindedly. "My aunt just gave them to me."

"Why bother anyway? Seems like it'd be uncomfortable."

"She didn't get them for me before the wedding. I was originally supposed to be wearing them all day, but she just now got them to me. Better late than never. And I wear them because I'm supposed to look my best, whatever that means."

"Aw, you always look nice, Zel," he replied with a boyish grin, turning and scanning her up and down. "I wouldn't normally think red would suit you, but it suits you."

"You flatter me."

"Let's go sit down," he randomly stated, wandering towards the general amassed clump of tables.

"Somewhere near the bride and groom's table, please. I don't want to be seen as a disgrace to my family." She smiled, humor lacing her words and counteracting the supposed severity of her declaration, and Link, ever the one for contests of subtle humor, shrugged.

"I would think that deliberate insomnia and cookie-gorging fests were more your forte."

"Touché," ceded Zelda, allowing Link to pull her seat out for her. "Are Saria and Jayda going to sit with us?"

"Of course. But not for a while longer. Hopefully, we won't be joined…" He looked angry as he bit his lip, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. Are you okay?" His eyes were like lightning, sending electricity sizzling through her veins with power. Wait. This was just Link! Why was she responding to Link this way?

"Hopefully. We can always tell them the spots are reserved. Don't worry, Link. I'm fine." Absently, Zelda began to hum "White Flag" by Dido. Link watched her for a moment, then exhaled, shaking his head.

"I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,
I'll tell you that.
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it
where's the sense in that?" he quoted. "Zelda, I'm not sure that's 'fine'." Zelda looked at him, shocked, then smiled.

"Actually, I didn't know those were the lyrics. We heard it in the limo on the way over."

"Oh." Link looked ashamed and grinned, leaning his head from side to side, his neck issuing an audible "POP!"

"That's disgusting," Zelda commented, making a face at Link as he straightened himself out. He smiled and began to laugh, and then she did too, though neither were sure what at. Through her giggling, however, Zelda noticed a young woman gracefully seat herself, and then, on either side of them, two young men. Sterling and Jarrett.

"Sorry, but there were no more tables," Jarrett proclaimed. ""May I ask to be let in?" Zelda slowly stopped giggling, but kept her smile on. The inevitable had just happened, and now she had to deal with Jarrett, who was annoying, and Sterling, who she didn't ever want to see again, not to mention that there was a very pretty, very dim looking girl sitting across the circular table from her. Oh well.

"Zelda was just laughing at something I did," Link replied, slightly terse. "There aren't any more tables?"

"Nope." Zelda wanted to scream at the look of disinterest on Sterling's face. What was his problem?

"Allow me to introduce you," Jarrett said, turning to face the young woman. "Zelda, Lee," neither of the teens corrected him, "I would like you to meet Savannah Madison. She's a model for… Vera Wang, didn't you say?"

"That's right." Her voice was a husky bedroom voice, and Zelda felt her mood-o-meter drop down a couple points more, if that was possible. Zelda smiled sweetly, though, deciding to attempt niceness, and then said, "I'm Zelda Harkinian. This is my cousin's wedding- my father's sister's daughter."

"I'm Link Tudor, a friend of Zelda's."

"I'm pleased to meet you both." She still didn't smile, though she looked less intimidating.

Zelda envied Savannah her looks- she was lovely, strikingly so, with an unusual sort of presence about her. Her lips were full, her eyes lovely and round, deep brown, her chocolate hair tied up in a wild knot, several sleek strands falling to frame her gorgeous face. Her skin was a perfect honeyed tone, and she wore her wild low silver and black fleur-de-lis nightmare Dior dress well.

Lulu's prettier than she is, though, Zelda thought deep within her brain, and she smiled. Lulu's the prettiest person I've ever seen.

Jarrett struck up a conversation with Sterling, and Zelda studied her water goblet, interjecting comments from time to time. Link played his part admirably- had Zelda not known better, she would have thought Link rather liked Sterling and Jarrett, which she knew all to well that she did not. Zelda smiled all that she could and played the part of the good hostess, but as the noise grew louder in anticipation of the speeches, Zelda noticed something odd.

The back of her left hand was itching.

Carefully, Zelda rubbed it against the bottom of the table, hoping that that would make it better, but the itching only got worse. She tried to ignore it, but the itching only became more irritating and slowly, pain began to set in. Zelda became distracted, withdrew from the conversation, and began to wonder, what the heck was going on? The best man made a speech, the maid of honor made her speech, Zelda's cousin and her husband both made speeches, and the dinner began, and by then Zelda's hand was hurting so badly that she thought she may start to scream. Link noticed.

"Zelda, are you alright?" he leaned in and asked softly as the last of the toasts ended.

"I've… got to go talk to my aunt. I'll be back in just a minute." Though conscious that it had been rude, Zelda stood and walked over to where Audrey was sitting with several actors and producers that she'd worked with.

"Audrey, can I talk to you for just a minute?" She did her very best to keep her voice from sounding strained.

"Sure," Audrey replied with a smile, and then excused herself. "I'll be right back."

Zelda led Audrey out of the dinner to the observation deck, and then, certain that they weren't being watched or overheard, turned to her aunt.

"My hand itches," she stated, doing her very best not to rip off her glove then and there.

"Your hand itches. I see." Audrey bit the inside of her lower lip, looking out over the city. "Left hand? Top of it?"

"Yes, top of my left hand. Really itches." This time Zelda did scratch, causing her fingertips to buzz. Audrey continued to look out over the city.

"It may be a reaction," she said finally. "Of the triforce to being covered. You know, how the first time you wore a bra, you felt very uncomfortable?"

"Yeah…" Zelda answered.

"This is probably the same sort of thing. Go ahead and air your hand out now for a bit, and we can have a look at it and see if it looks normal. Some lotion might help, too. I've got some in my purse."

"Right." Zelda gratefully pulled off the glove, blowing on the back of her left hand. It didn't look red or irritated, but it was still bothering her all the same.

"It looks fine," Audrey voiced Zelda's thoughts, carefully tilting Zelda's left hand side to side in the light of the deck. "Is it feeling better now that you've got it out in the air?"

"Much," Zelda replied with a sigh. Audrey nodded in understanding.

"You'll have to just deal with it, Zelda, I'm sorry," she stated. "But you can't come out here every five minutes to air out your hand. You need to get used to how it feels. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Zelda replied, allowing Audrey to rub lotion over the back of her hand. "I understand. I didn't really choose this, but I have no choice so I might as well do my best."

"Good attitude," Audrey praised, smiling at her niece. "I'm proud of you, Zelda. Are you about ready to go back in?"

"Yeah," Zelda replied, regretfully pulling her glove back on. "I'm ready."

The press were still everywhere as they walked back in, special reporters snapping photos and recording the events of the dinner. Zelda forced herself to look pleasant as she walked through them, her fiery orange-red dress swirling tempestuously around her legs as she made her way back to her table. The ribbons from her crimson high heels that tied up to nearly her knees were irritating her, but she forced herself to wear her ridiculous ensemble as though it was natural.

You are part of a line of ancient queens, Zelda reminded herself. The heir, born with noble blood in her veins. Nobody here can even begin to compare with you. You've moved mountains.

There was a little extra sway in her walk as she seated herself back down at the table, a waiter buzzing over to help her into her chair and give her a new napkin. Zelda thanked him, and then, smiling and blocking out her left hand, she allowed herself to return to the conversation, sipping her champagne.

The meal began. First was an appetizer of bread, then the salad, and then after that, escargot and delicious poached salmon with a delicious sauce dribbled over it, rice and vegetables. After that, there was some soup, and then dessert of the delicious white wedding cake, and the chocolate groom's cake, with its little strawberries dressed up in icing tuxedos. The evening had flown, Zelda thought to herself as she allowed Sterling to lead her out onto the dance floor. How odd. She danced with Sterling. She danced with Jarrett. She danced with Link. She danced with Haft and danced with her father, and she even danced once with the groom. Then she was dancing with Link, and then a boy named Anderson, a very famous lawyer's son, and then she was dancing again more and more, then sitting down and getting a drink and dancing again. She was hardly thinking, slipping totally into the part of a good hostess, wondering about things in the back of her mind, things such as how long was left and what were Link's real parents like? She was shocked to find herself in the limousine at nearly three o'clock, and, shaking her head and blinking, she wondered where all that time had gone? She could clearly remember going out on the balcony with Audrey, and then going back in and beginning the meal, and some of the conversation….

Huh, Zelda said to herself. How strange. It's not like a blackout, but more like a… I don't know. Huh.

Oh, and she remembered the bouquet toss and the garter toss, how the bouquet had landed just short of her, the garter on a puzzled boy's head. That had amused her quite a bit.

She was very glad when she arrived home, but she wasn't very tired even though it was nearly half after three in the morning, so she gratefully stripped off her gloves and dress, let her hair down, took a long, warm shower and then sauntered down to the kitchen for her usual midnight rendezvous with Link. Sure enough, he appeared at four fifteen, yawning and smiling.

"Hello," he said, pulling himself to sit on the island counter across from Zelda. She'd already set out a glass of milk for him and pulled out the large, nearly-gone bag of Oreos.

"Hi," she replied with a smile, dunking her Oreo in milk and shoving the soggy mess into her mouth. "Glad it's over?"

"Yeah," he replied with a sweet, sleepy smile that made her heart melt. "It's going to be a bit less crowded now, isn't it?"

"Mmmmhm. A bit. My father's going to be throwing a bunch of Christmas parties and stuff for his colleagues, but the number of guests in the house will decrease. Sort of."

"I can't believe those asses just sat down with us," Link grumbled. "And I can't believe Saria and Jayda decided to sit with my parents." He shook his head. "Weird."

"Very." Zelda took another cookie, sighing, then grinned. "Jarrett and a model. Who could have guessed it?"

"Not I," Link replied, looking spooked, then popped a cookie in his mouth, taking in a large gulp from his glass of milk. "We probably shouldn't stay down for too long, you know," Link stated.

"Oh?"

"People will start getting here tomorrow around noon probably, and I know you and your dad, and..."

Zelda did her very best not to choke on her cookie. "Yes. I'll need to greet them."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Link stretched, and Zelda watched in fascination as the muscles in his exposed arms rippled. He was wearing a white tank that night and the pair of green pajama pants he'd first worn downstairs. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to go to bed now."

"Mm." Zelda swigged down the last of her milk, then wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. "Me too."

"Let me walk you up," Link said, putting the cookies back in the cupboard as Zelda rinsed the glasses and stashed them in the washer.

"Never," Zelda replied sarcastically, and let him lead her from the kitchen, turning off the light as she went.

"Say Zelda," he asked her as they passed the windows out onto the back porch through which moonlight clearly illuminated them both, "what is that on the back of your hand?"

"I… Link, it's a secret. I can't tell you. I'm sorry." If there was one thing Zelda couldn't do, it was intentionally lie to Link.

"It's okay," he replied in turn. "It's just odd… I've never noticed it before. It looks almost like Pascal's Triangle."

"It does, doesn't it?" Zelda examined the triangles on the back of her hand, storing this newfound information away in the back of her brain. They began to ascend the elegant curving stairs, Zelda's hand unconsciously trailing on the banister for balance as they climbed. They reached the second floor and stopped for a moment, looking out the multi-floored windows onto the porch, the pool, and the gardens beyond. Then they walked down the hall.

"I'll see you in the morning," Link said, softly touching the back of Zelda's hand- her right hand.

"Yeah," she replied, then smiled. "Noon. I'll be up. Good night."

"Good night."

She watched him shut the door behind him and stood for a while longer, watching as the light clicked on within and there was the sound of his movement, and then she set off down the long hallway to her bedroom. Once in, she collapsed into bed and was out like a light. Her last thought before she went to sleep was, I hope Audrey comes up with a solution for these stupid triangles soon.

And then she was off in dream land.

&-

uploaded: Saturday, March 05

10:39 PM

A/N: I AM SO TIRED. We had a six hour dance practice this morning that involved lots of kicking and lots of fast jazz. collapse

So, umm, I totally did not absorb what I just edited this chapter, and as I wrote it a while back… oh well. I think (?) that Sterling is beginning to show up for the jerk that he really is…. And don't worry, the next chapter is a very moving chapter, lots of fluff, quite a bit of action but it's still a bit hazy.

Thank you all for your responses. My day wouldn't be made without them. And now I am to go pass out, and stuff, but before I go…

I'M GOING TO SEE CIRQUE DU SOLEIL! Beware, inspiration most definitely WILL follow and if it's half as good as I'm expecting it to be, you can keep your eyes open for another fic hopefully soon, but possibly in a different category. shrug Oh well…

Hope you enjoyed it. Drop a note in plezzz. G'night and have a very merry Saturday.