Having left her party, Zelda and Link have some time alone together. While Zelda is excited to show Link her new discovery, he interrupts with something of his own - giving the meeting a slightly different feeling.

Chapter 27: Forty and Eight

Zelda shuddered as Link entered her office, carrying in a chill winter air, but continued playing the Spirit Flute. She'd left her shawl with Teacher and, while she was more than satisfied with Link's earlier response, her birthday dress alone didn't offer much warmth – even for her. Something thunked behind her as Link placed it on her desk, and she heard him faintly humming with her as she finished playing.

"Is it weird for that tune to remind me of Malladus?" Link asked.

"If you asked anyone else, then probably yes…but I think I understand," she replied; it would've been a lie to say the thought hadn't crossed her own mind – sometimes her spine still tingled when she thought of that battle. She placed the Spirit Flute back on its stand as another thought occurred. "Huh, it's nearly been three months since then, hasn't it."

Link groaned as she faced him, "don't remind me, I still don't know if it's gone quickly or not."

She bit her lip. For her party, he'd traded his usual engineer clothes for something closer to the guard's ceremonial uniforms – less practical, though still carrying the engineer's emblem, and a noticeably snugger fit.

He smiled, and she had to look past him, or risk her face burning up. It was behind him that she spotted what he'd brought in – a small, wooden, model sailing ship.

"Happy birthday!" Link cried cheerfully, pulling back so she could inspect her gift.

It looked similar to the one from Pina's figure shop, except the planks weren't quite as uniform. The gilding along the side was close to what it should be, but rougher – clearly done with care, but not professionally – and it was overall just a little smaller.

"Where'd you find it?"

"I made it," Link said quietly. "I hope you like it."

Zelda ran a finger along the ships rim. She'd wanted Pina's since they first saw it in Castle Town, almost a year ago now. She'd never told him that; yet he'd not only noticed, but remembered. She smiled, "It's perfect."

As she inspected it, something stood out about the ship's centre, just behind the mast – a trap door. It wasn't normally part of the design – this style of ship was too small to carry large cranes, so they usually didn't bother. As she inspected the door, it quickly became clear that it even had hinges and a small lock built in. She pried it open.

With the pressure released, dozens of small paper sheets popped out, exploding over the deck. They were covered in familiar patterns, with clear white envelopes in the centre – tickets from Pina's figure raffle.

"I figured you'd want to win the actual ship yourself," Link explained as she inspected one, "plus, once you're done, you can use it for storing things."

There must've been at least five hundred rupees worth; it would've been cheaper to just buy the actual model – but that wasn't the point, was it?

She stepped towards him, running her dress through her fingers, unable to meet Link's eyes. Link was rubbing the back of his head, and she mentally scoffed; as if he needed to be nervous. Pulling him into a hug, and shooing away the nerves in her stomach, she placed a light kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Link."

Her face exploded with warmth – her entire body tingling, oddly light at his touch – and she was thankful her makeup hid how flushed she was. Why did she do that? True, it'd be a lie to say she didn't enjoy how Link's cheeks similarly reddened, but that did nothing to calm the storm in her stomach.

"I'm…I'm glad you like it," Link said, bringing her attention back as he broke their embrace, and she felt the warmth move from her cheeks to her chest as Link fished something from his pocket. "Oh, right. Niko said this was for you too."

He handed her a small necklace, not even half her palm in size, with a turquoise gem set in a silver holding. It was clearly aged, though well looked after – polished enough that she could only pick out the odd spec of black tarnish.

"It's something he found while sailing, apparently," Link said, "Niko reckoned they used it to calm a cyclone. I used to think he was kidding, but it's not so unbelievable now."

That seemed vaguely familiar, but not from her grandmother's journal. She flipped through memories, like sheets of paper in her mind; maybe it was to do with the wind festival? Though, based on the wave like pattern on the gem, it wasn't from New Hyrule. She caught sight of Link waiting patiently, and shook from her thoughts – she'd have to check later.

"Please, give him my thanks," Zelda said. "Oh, and tell him I'd love to hear the story sometime."

"He'll be thrilled, he's already mocked up some cut-outs," Link said, smiling to himself. "But we're distracted, what did you want to show me?"

Ah, right – she had mentioned that before, hadn't she. Setting the necklace down on Link's ship, she picked up a well-kept, dark purple bow and arrow – her personal one, pilfered from the castle armoury earlier that day – from beside her desk.

"Watch this," Zelda said excitedly, knocking an arrow and drawing the string to her cheek. She closed her eyes and, focusing on the darkness, pictured the arrow. A tingle ran down her spine and the image slowly formed, starting from the tip and gradually drawing back; but instead of just being normal wood, the arrow glowed with a faint golden light. She couldn't help but notice how it seemed a little easier compared to when she'd practiced - as if the warmth from her chest flowed directly into the arrow.

"How'd you do that?" Link asked, and she opened her eyes just quickly enough to see the same glow fade from the actual arrow.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Zelda said, placing the bow back on her desk and trading it for a scruffy looking book. It wasn't aged so much as messy – with extra bits of paper stuffed unevenly into it, so they stuck out around the edges like makeshift bookmarks.

"Teacher gave me this earlier," she said, holding it up towards Link, "you know how I mentioned that my parents were to pass the Spirit Flute to me today? Apparently this was something else they left behind."

She flicked through the pages, till she came across a pair with intricate illustrations showing the Bow of Light.

"You remember the sacred power I channelled when we fought Malladus? And Anjean saying how it was passed down through my family? Turns out mother and grandmother knew about it," she paused, "actually they probably told her in the first place… Anyway, these are notes from all the experiments they did with it; apparently it's possible to channel it into things, or even make objects from it!" She could feel the excitement rushing through her – like she'd returned to being a child with a new toy.

Link scanned the page, face twisting like it always did when he was thinking, and said, "so, you're saying what we fought Malladus with was literally a 'Bow of Light'? And they made it? Can you do that?"

Zelda shook her head. "It would make sense, it's certainly possible according to those notes, but it took me most of today just to make that night light."

"Only because you haven't practiced," he said, head practically buried in the pages. He began gesturing into the air, as if miming out his thoughts, "I wonder if it'll work with other things, maybe a sword or something? It's a shame I don't have mine. Oh! Maybe you could make other items too, have you tried anything else yet?"

He looked up at her – lightly biting his thumb, like he was attempting to stop himself from rambling – and she could almost see the ideas swirling in his head. He seemed so…excited. Maybe she should've felt offended that his first thoughts were to experiment with her abilities. Instead, seeing him so animated – finally confident in his element after clearly hiding his discomfort all night – left everything feeling oddly…soft. As if there was no party downstairs, no stupid dances and no kingdom to worry about. Just the soft and comfortable air between them.

She laughed to herself; it seemed he'd given her one more gift that night.