A/N: Thanks so much to the people who have commented or written to me about this story! I appreciate it. Enjoy the last chapter!


Reverdie

Chapter 4: "in the shade of my curls"


It's an ancient thread that binds them. Something quiet, something cosmic, something seraphic. Something catastrophic. Two souls, destined to careen through the whirlwind of time and space until they touch down in a darkling sea of whatever it is that fate has placed aside for them. Each wanders alone through a starless void, grasping in the dark to one day find that there is another, equally wistful and nostalgic. Reverberations of lifetimes gone by rumble to life and machinate stories that have yet to follow, ghosts guiding hands and hearts towards one another to find a soft place to land once the darkness settles.

He is hers. And she is his. And he's been a fool to think he has any say in the celestial matter.

The girl with the blood of the Goddess rumbling through her veins deserves to finally know what a chaste kiss from her Chosen Hero feels like, but the discovery may not follow anytime soon–not when she's begging for him in pure, salacious want.

Bones that ache in the manacles that reluctance has crafted them burst free of their fetters while guilt dissipates from his lungs to ignite his first step towards her, a long stride that's punctured with purpose. The rift between them, colossal in the midst of such pining, seals shut as her wish is granted. His Princess is a jumble of pliant limbs when he gathers her in his arms, her adjuration suddenly caught between desperate lips without another word passing between them. Surely, it's happened this way, again and again in the millennia that precede them-this isn't the first time their souls have been plied in such a way.

Tucked away from the colorful hues of the ball, the Princess and her Knight acquiesce further into primal desire. Link's tongue glides across her lower lip before slipping into her mouth to taste the faintest traces of wine, both sighing into one another as starvation agitates something particularly savage in their depths. Link settles his hands along her waist to pull her closer, craving skin but finding only the intricate beading that corrals her. A small, impatient growl rips through him as he realizes just how sick of fabric he's grown –especially when the skin below it simmers for him with unholy heat. Lips and noses collide in abandon while restless hands twitch against her sides–it's as if he doesn't know where to begin; at her backside, to see if he can discern any hints of the undergarments that he'd like to tear at with esurient incisors? Shall he reach between her legs and press hard against layers of resplendent skirts? Perhaps he should bring his hands to her breasts, run fingers along roundels to tease nipples up against fabric? He isn't granted a moment to weigh his options sincerely before Zelda is squirming against him, hissing into him with vehement appetency.

"You'll have to help," Her searing, half-lidded glance singes him as she reaches for the lace at her back.

Link is a quick snap of lightning as he whirls her around to assist, dexterous fingers working at lace with such proficiency that he may as well have dressed her himself. He steadies his breath as he catches sight of fabric slackening around elegant shoulders, hints of skin tumbling into full stretches as it slips down her form with ease. It isn't long before the jewel of a gown is nothing more than a crumpled heap around her ankles.

"Bed." She whispers a knot into his stomach, and with the tonnage of an anchor it sinks him down onto her sheets in silent submission.

Zelda's pace slows as she unfastens undergarments, her movements so teasingly dilatory that Link feels a shock of pain pulse through him. He practically salivates at the sight of skin creasing while she bends to strip stockings down, whimpers as her breasts spill loose.

When she's completely bare, every inch of her exposed and primed for him, the throat that's only recently expressed such devastating vulnerabilities is suddenly constricted. Pupils blow wide as his lupine gaze drinks her body in entirely for the first time. Her svelte form must have been sculpted by the heavens; a menagerie of gentle hips and pristine skin and full breasts, garnished with pert nipples that he may very well beg to place his lips around. And though Zelda's face sparkles with an innocent shade of pink under such a voracious gaze, she bears no apprehension. She rushes at him with the force of a summertime tempest and plants a knee on either side of his clothed waist.

"How is this?" Their eyes flicker against one anothers for a moment, a mischievous smile splitting against her lips.

His gorgeous soulmate is stretched across him, naked and rolling and glowing with feverish desire.

It's a positively audacious inquiry and she knows it.

Link suspects that the hunger he uses to drag her back down to his lips suffices as an acceptable answer as turbulent mouths crash against one another. A gloved hand seeks out the empyrean spot between her legs to rub gently against her while the other grapples at the dip of her waist. Zelda cups his cheeks as she consecrates his lips with another kiss, and a pant breaks from her as the amenity beneath his garments swells up to tease her, pleasure amplifying as his wheedling hand presses on in accordance. As her voice thins into a delicate whimper, she tugs at the dampened glove with impatience and tosses it aside. Link mourns the distance she creates when she dismounts, but he inches further to award her another filthy kiss when she lands upon her duvet. There's quite a bit of clearance across her bed, he notes; he considers the ways they might exploit every inch of it together.

When Link breaks away to seek other forms of worship, he finds that her legs are already sprawled in anticipation, toes spading into sheets while fervent hips pitch upwards. The scathing thirst that dawns on his tongue has him swooping down to smear his lips across the dell of her thighs. He plants kisses along her opening, hears them sprout as soft hiccups at her lips, lets their tiny echos drag him down further into the shambles of arousal. He tugs a coveted cry from her lips when his tongue finally presses against the seam of her cunt, and a pretty little gasp triggers a hum into the culmination of her thighs as he laves across that one perfect spot. Instinct bucks her hips upwards in desire, her famished sex fusing with an equally hungry mouth while determined hands fight to keep her still beneath him.

Link's murmuring something against her weeping split, hardly knows what words are escaping him as he anticipates the heavenly moment that's sure to follow provided that no pesky handmaiden comes calling.

"Wait– Link –" Two syllables nearly go unheard above the noisy breaths catching against her inviting warmth. The voice she demands the next two in harkens back to the infancy of their relationship, hardened and assertive, though not weighted with such stone as it once had been:

"Undress."

The ever dutiful knight obeys without a second thought. The sword that lives across his back lands softly atop her bedspread as they set to work, though prying him from his attire proves to be an ordeal; they work in tandem, a flurry of boots and buttons and an expanse of deep, draping fabric that has both of them seething with impatience. Zelda unclasps his belt with frantic fingers, propelled by a wild drive to discover exactly what it is that haunts her in the darkest hours of the morning. Link senses a whip of cool air kissing his bare skin as she slides the last of his garments down his legs. He reaches for the sword that glints beneath candlelight, perhaps now twinkling with satisfaction, and sets it near the foot of her bed–-near the spot where her knees soon take root.

Surely, no finer image has ever imprinted across a man's mind.

The Crown Princess of Hyrule is upon her knees, her face lingering near his recently revealed manhood and her eyes widened with prurient curiosity as she runs hands along her knight's strong thighs and down the taut stretch of his abdomen. It's decidedly electrifying, discovering skin that's been concealed for far too long. When she has finished ogling such a… fine discovery, long fingers brush up the smooth silk of his length before settling around him. She's positively breathtaking as she takes him in her mouth, eyes crinkling shut to savor the sensation of him.

Link thinks he might pass out.

Satisfaction must be evident, because he feels Zelda's lips smile around him before her tongue is soon taunting him, tracing along his length, her lips pursing to revel at the head of his cock before enveloping him once more. Her knight tips his head back and utters a low curse-can't believe how soft her hair is when he places a hand against the back of her head in wordless affirmation to generate a hum of approval from her occupied mouth. He wonders if the Goddess has ever intended for her to use it in such a way.

" Fuck... Zelda..." An assortment of tousled thoughts alloy so that how and more and mine all snag against teeth as one low snarl; she doesn't need to hear any of them. She knows .

She uses a hand to steady him, places it up right against the base of the enticing appendage while the other nestles up against her lips to hook around him. She's good at this, he thinks–exceptionally meticulous and eager to please, incessant as she saturates him with ecstasy. Link has to dig heels into the floor beneath him to keep from folding entirely. She pulls him from her mouth with a small gasp, a thin string of saliva and precum dangling from her lips before dripping onto her chest. An unsatisfied tongue darts out to sweep across her lower lip before she's encasing him again in a hot, needy mouth, and a bewitched Link can only witness such savage devotion for a moment longer before his head rolls back and he moans.

Zelda nearly forgets the grip that desire has her securely fastened into when she senses him unraveling in her mouth, her heart fluttering as she hears him panting above her. There's a power in her craft that she hasn't anticipated–she's swept up entirely in the satisfaction of subjugating him. It isn't the sort of release he's after, though.

Link pulls her up from her knees and into another kiss before lying her down on her crimson sheets. He savors the image of her, pink and breathless and tense with feverish arousal.

"I enjoyed that," she whispers.

"You're telling me." His voice crackles along the edges. "Thank you," he murmurs before diving down to pepper kisses along her neck, tingling when she gasps at the way he presses hard at her skin. "You're perfect ." The whisper culminates as an explosion against her sternum and a shimmer between her legs. His mouth sets a course across her body, idling in the small valley between her breasts before his tongue flicks along the curvature. He ignites the skin that he crosses before his lips collect a rosy nipple, suffused with pink, and he smirks against her chest when he wrenches a mewling cry from her, his tongue pressing down hard to trap a blushing bud against teeth. It's a devastating touch, one that spreads Zelda's legs impossibly wider in response, and Link can't possibly deny the invitation. He's soon sinking two fingers into her to thrust a curl into her spine and split a shallow cry from her throat.

Her body shudders when his finger crooks to discover a new warmth.

"Oh– that …" she breathes, cradling his lips against hers. A sequence of whimpers pours from her lips as he pumps into her, his own chest heaving as each heavenly sound that she makes pings back and forth in his head before the tension sails straight for his groin.

The satisfying taste of accomplishment is prying at his lips when Zelda reaches to slow him. Her hands, vibrating with determination, reach for his hips and urge him even closer in the silence that follows. Once Link settles himself upon her, a renewed groan at his lips and his cock twitching impatiently up against her fluttering mound, Zelda slides a hand down to part their abdomens before wrapping fingers around him.

"Please, Link. I don't want to wait anymore. I want this. I want you ." Every bit of her whines against him, edging him closer to her opening with a roll of her hips. He nearly swoons above her, swears that she must have cast some sort of enchantment over him. Link leans back just far enough to watch her take his length and rub it against her aperture, catches hints of his arousal transude from his cock to drip between her swollen lips.

"Whatever you wish, Zelda." He breathes, face wrenched with desire to send her stomach tumbling. " Anything ." He tips his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry for making you wait." He means it, truly, but she soothes him with a small hush and presses a finger to his lips. It's as though the air seeps from the room entirely when she cants her hips upwards in encouragement.

Incandescent gazes stay firmly tethered as Link slips into her for the first time. Zelda ushers him in with the smallest of ' oh 's.

He had known she would feel good–wonderful, even–but he hadn't known that merging with her would feel as magnificent as this. If this is the sole reason that Hylia has ossified his bones and trickled blood into his veins, has carved out eyes and ears and a nose into the marble of his face, it is most certainly an existence worth fighting for.

Zelda's voice frays as he gives a few prelusive thrusts into her, words failing entirely as thoughts addle to become nothing but one all encompassing groundswell of pleasure. The ever considerate Link slows further to help her accommodate the interpolation between her legs, but the gleam in her eyes only darkens as she registers the deceleration.

" Harder ," she gasps against his shoulder before he's even gathered his bearings. "Please."

She won't need to ask twice. He knows from the way desire manipulates her features that she's craved this for ages; she's dusted with pink, drunk with lust, her lips exploding into a rapturous, disbelieving smile with each stroke of him. He expels a string of profanity that catalyzes a desperate response; it has his Princess arching her back against her sheets, whimpering and whining and dissolving further beneath him. Zelda combs hands through messy bangs, drags the fingers that land at his neck down the plane of his back.

"I knew you would be good at this," she eventually huffs, eyes clouded with concupiscence.

"I've had a long time to think about how I'd do it," he murmurs back with a roaring belly, slowing his pace just enough to drag his nose against the shell of her ear.

"Is that so?" Her hands come to rest around his neck as she rolls her hips up against his. "And what is it that you think about? Tell me more."

And so he does.

He whispers his most cloistered thoughts, the wants and wishes sequestered in the deepest parts of his heart that he's only fully acknowledging for the first time. He tells her of the dreams that haunt him when the rest of the world sleeps, of how his heart beats to a waltz of its own when he simply thinks of her, of how every tacet moment of his day is spent captured in fantasy.

"Can I tell you a secret?" She glows with a hushed voice.

He tries not to beg for it.

"I don't sing to the Goddess. I sing to you. "

If one can feel a soul being made whole, Link surely perceives it. The creases of a paper thin heart folding alongside one another, top and bottom corners kissing and twining before edges come to splash up against each other in the center of a chest no longer hollow. He grabs at her leg, hooks an arm beneath the bend of it to drive even deeper into her, delights in the sensation of her foot pressing against his hip.

"Tell me another fantasy," she requests, her purr strangled and foggy.

Link cloaks his search for a memory beneath a long kiss before he eventually murmurs against her lip. "I've thought about leading you across the moat. To the park, maybe–away from the castle. Nice and quiet. And I imagine…. that I might tear your dress from you and…pin you up against a tree…" Fragmented images appear against closed eyelids as she interprets his scene. He considers his next words carefully, determining how much of his mind he should choose to share.

And then he remembers where he is and what sort of activity he's engaged in and, well, fuck it.

"And then I'd fuck you until I couldn't stand anymore."

The expletive wrestles a gasp from her lips, the oval shape of her surprised mouth soon chiseling upwards into a wicked grin.

"How delightful," she breathes. He swears she harnesses the sun with the smile she graces him with.

Link removes himself from her entirely and rolls her over, swarmed with such brass that if he were to jump out of his skin and observe from the furthest corner of her room, he'd never recognize himself.

"And when I can no longer stand, I'll just find another way to take you."

Though nothing about this evening is precedented, his next move feels altogether choreographed as he props her up onto her hands and knees, and suddenly Zelda is taking him in from a new, fracturing angle. There's a silent prayer shared between them that no drunk stragglers have made their way across the castle in time to hear her aphrodisiac cries, but inhibitions are quickly soothing as their minds darken to everything but each other, pleasure absorbing both entirely. Fingers imprint across her skin as he steadies her by the waist, moving harder into her as the unmistakable, debauched sound of his cock repeatedly connecting with her arousal resonates in the air.

She's so wet, Link tries to focus past the groan that riles up inside of him. So wet for him .

He finds that he's forgetting himself in the swell of pleasure. Forgetting his name, his purpose. Hero. Champion. Of what? Something, something important. Hylia's Chosen Hero. Zelda's Chosen Hero. Created by her, created for her. Designed by some cosmic power to serve her, aid her, care for her. Embrace her, kiss her, worship her. Make love to her. To worship the divine gift that is her cunt until she's left tasting stars in a trembling heap beneath him.

A particularly lovely moan pitches upwards to pull him from his desultory thoughts, and the realization that he's edging dangerously close to his orgasm, all the while ensconced in his princess , crashes upon him. Zelda's delicious petitions are drowned in her pillow as she shudders beneath him, and Link watches as dainty fingers grip at sheets in desperation, legs quivering against his. He glances down to revel in the way her pretty little cunt stretches around him– Gods, he loves to watch himself disappear in her, again and again and again. The voice inside no longer chastises him for such thoughts; instead, it berates him– shames him– for having gone so long without granting her a release.

Link snakes a trembling hand around her front, savoring the small jolt that he triggers with his touch. Her voice crescendos, just as it had back in the ballroom, as he draws small, furious circles around her clit. She's already lingering on the precipice, and soon–both far too quickly and not swiftly enough– she's pressing back into him further, shattering around his cock as the bliss of orgasm skyrockets through her with his name repeated on her tongue.

It's the most glorious song he's ever heard.

Link is barely managing to hold on, moments from spilling over the edge with her. She collapses her chest onto the bed, pink cheeks housing deep pockets of air as she catches her breath, eyes adjusting to the stars that explode behind them. Link retracts his hand and places two damp fingers in his mouth, washes the taste of her orgasm off of them with a most ravenous tongue.

"Zelda…" he gasps across her back. "I'm gonna…I'm…."

"Please, Link." she whines in a voice completely devoid of regality, pliancy giving way to hypnotizing impurity. "Cum for me, Hero."

It's as though Hylia in her heaven is kissing him across his neck when the sultry tone knocks against him– running her transcendent tongue across his chest, across his legs, sparking against his very heart. Link removes himself just in time to spill across the beautiful curve of her ass, and for a moment, he can't process anything other than the gleam of his ejaculate on her porcelain skin. She collapses onto her bed and shudders when his sudden warmth graces her, rolls over without any regard for the thin rope of fluid that smears against her sheets as she moves.

He's a gorgeous sight, that knight of hers; on his knees, panting beneath a thin gleam of sweat while sedulous muscles flex beneath candlelight, its waxing and waning licking against every hint of bare skin. It's a preposterous thing to be blushing now, but the rosy bloom explodes across her face all the same as she studies him. Lips clamp down around a low moan as Zelda's gaze falls upon that blessed accoutrement; she wants him to bury it deep between her legs again–wants to commit the sensation of it to memory–is willing to sink to her knees and beg for it if need be. Her hand comes to rest against her aching cunt and a treacherous smile graces her lips as deft fingers begin to mimic him.

"More?" Link marvels. It only takes one quick glimpse of her technique for him to wonder how many fingers she uses to create him when she's alone. He nearly forgets he's already found a release as the sinister tension coils up against his belly once more.

"Please– please Zelda. Let me help you," he implores. He won't care if she teases him for such alacrity once the reverie of lust finally lifts. The wicked smile she's wearing thins away to reveal a breathless expression at such a plea. She nods furiously, a veil of golden curls jostling around opalescent shoulders.

Link sweeps up her length to capture her lips while fervent fingers reunite with her clit, riveting the one, specific spot that has her erupting in trembling delight. As he senses rationality growing numb beneath his, feral senses snapping to life in its wake, he seizes the opportunity to adjust her exactly as he desires: He sets her at the edge of her bed and sidles up behind her, feels her arch up against the front of his chest as his cock, slickened with their releases, paints her lower back with the mixture. He drapes her legs across his and spreads his own to keep her open and unrestricted. Dampened thighs part as she unfolds against him, unrestricted and complacent. Link has spent the last few months tangled in her web at every turn; how peculiar it feels to now be the one trapping prey.

Zelda finds herself wound up in his limbs, writhing as every nerve reacts to the ravishment he grants as he nips at torrid skin. He suckles hard at the pulse point in her neck, skims teeth along her shoulder while his fingers coax her further. Slips one in easily, then another. Delights in the contoured grip of her folds while golden locks whisper across his shoulders.

"Do you like that?" he murmurs against her cheek while calloused fingers engineer an impending climax. She only manages a small whine before catching his mouth in a kiss, but he forces himself to break it, desperate for the ring of her voice.

"Answer me."

"Y-yes…" she manages, voice sailing high–a quarry trapped. He huffs against tresses of hair as his hand slips, losing traction above a new sheen of arousal that coats her center.

"You're so wet," Link growls invitingly against the topography of her ear. "And you taste so good… Gods …"

His voice is the soft rumble of thunder, like a prelude to a storm. It's the sweet, primaveral wind that's kissed her in secret at every opportunity. A promise of glory woven into a tapestry of soft tones. An earthquake threaded through whispers. The deafening silence from days past suddenly feels doubly offensive to her ringing ears.

"If only you could know how good you feel. I can't wait to be inside you again, Zelda…"

He can feel ferality thrumming through her as it hitches in her throat and strains her thighs against his.

"Please, Link… I want to… I want…." Zelda's hips begin to wind around his fingers as she indulges herself, just as she had on the piano.

"Look, Princess. Watch how you cum for me. Open your eyes."

A large mirror, cut from Eldin ores and assembled by Hateno glaziers, looms atop the vanity across from her bed. Zelda's eyes flutter open to meet his gaze in the reflection, a shudder spearing her as she catches the dark, wolfish gleam in his eye. She recognizes it from their time in the field; it's the one he holds as he pitches himself into a Bokoblin den, the same one he uses to sink an arrow through a Lynel's eye. It's a dangerous visage–dangerous and terribly beguiling. One glance at it unravels her completely, has her thinking she'd like to shed any sense of her humanity beneath it.

Zelda feels her tension mounting, drawing nearer and nearer to that promised destination as though she's being dragged across the highest summit in Hyrule. She runs her gaze along his hand coercing her, the flex of his muscles as he works. The way his legs continue to urge hers apart while unoccupied fingers clasp around a delicate nipple and press sharply. He mumbles against her, watching in anticipation as she drives hard against his hand, her legs shuddering and her moans melting into euphoric cries, lachrymose and blissful.

"Good girl. Show me, sweetheart."

With a gorgeous little noise, one that sends an electric arrow whistling through the knight's pounding heart, Zelda arches violently as his name sails from her lips. A heavy exhale rips from his throat and he nearly chokes against her, thinks he might cum again from sights and sounds alone. He isn't convinced that she's ridden the orgasm fully before she's already begging for him again in a high, fluttering voice.

"Oh, Link— more. More, please..." She's a shadow of her usual self. No longer prim and collected and secure, but undone, ceded to another entirely. Insatiable. "Again. Please... I want…I want..."

"Say it out loud, Princess. What do you want?"

Link shivers as languid eyes dilate to round on him with lascivious enthusiasm.

"I want my Hero to fuck me."

The hero in question smirks at her unraveled state in the mirror: stripped, senseless, ragdolled in his arms and practically overdosing on desperation and want for him .

Chosen one indeed.

"Alright, then."


Link loses count of the number of releases that he guides Zelda to as the night presses on. As the moon traverses the indigo sky above, he sends her soaring, again and again, each undulation far sweeter and more sensational than the last. He claims her in every way that she requests, as intensely or diligently as she desires. The hours snow as they learn more about one another's bodies, finding one another's pleasure points and committing each other's taste to memory. Just as he hopes, he takes her across every inch of her bedspread, on the floor, against the stone of her bedroom walls–discovers what she looks like poised atop his cock as she swivels her hips above him.

Link wonders if he shall ever be blessed with such sights again.

So afterwards, while they bask in the soft glow of postcoital bliss as the first pale hint of the day peeks across the horizon, he breathes life into the thought.

Perhaps fatigue finally manages to corrode him, because he swears there's a hint of a tear tugging at the corner of his eye as the words slip from drowsy lips. He clings to the last few moments they have together before he'll have to sneak away, all sore muscles and ragged hair, wishing that the hours hadn't melted so quickly. Swathed in tired arms, Zelda raises a hand to his cheek and gently pushes a strand of unkempt hair from his eyes.

"As long as you wish for it."

"How do you feel? Are you okay?" Link asks in a voice saddled with sleep as he drags a finger across the small of her back.

Sea green eyes scan him as the edges of her lips curve slightly into the faintest hint of a smile, but Link grows curious as the sweetness in her expression fades slightly, like a final star fading in blossoming morning light. Zelda traces along his jaw, the pad of her index finger brandishing his skin as if doused in sealing wax.

"I love you."

Three words string together to create something holy in the stillness. It's delivered with such simplicity, as honest and quiet as the aborning day. Something that's far different than the sensations the night has bestowed upon him flutters against his sternum to tug a crooked smile up. He swallows the joy down, lets the propulsion from those three, blissful words rouse him into wakefulness. Link reciprocates with a kiss that's just as gentle, his lips parting from hers at an agonizingly slow pace to capture the remnants of the confession on her lips.

"I love you, too." Ghosts it against the bow of her lip with the supplication he'd sell his soul with. If he is merely tracing steps outlined by predecessors, he has no qualms. He is hers to his final breath. Link kisses the hand that cradles his cheek before he pulls her closer towards him, sinking impossibly further into their rose-colored nest.

He admits, he's surprised to find only a slight hint of radiance dawning upon her countenance at his own admission. The verdant moor of her gaze begins to glisten.

"And if I doom us all?"

Zelda's small whisper darts across the pillow, and even while submerged in a wash of such uncertainty she's as gorgeous as ever with gold splashed out around her. Link blinks in thought, his cloudless blue gaze drinking in every bit of her as though he hasn't spent the entire night doing so. He raises a hand, brushes against the point of her ear when he moves to cup her neck.

"You won't." He smiles simply. Playfully, with enough confidence to split amongst the entire castle. "But, worst case scenario..." He thumbs the angle of her jaw gently. "...I suppose I shall go to the grave completely and utterly smitten all the same."

He beams at her, a mesospheric gaze that has Zelda doubting that she isn't already tucked away in a dream. The slight hint of panic is soon melting from her expression and a small smile widens in its stead before she's pulling his lips to hers once more, quietly burning in ways that are both novel and so achingly familiar in morning light.

"Once more before you have to leave?" She sighs into his mouth.

He's already twitching up against her entrance before she's even finished the inquiry. Link smirks into the miniscule gasp that escapes her, two hearts joining together in a shimmering aubade as she pulls him under with her again.

Once more comes and goes, and still another follows.

And then, perhaps, once more after that for good measure.


A/N: Sad to see this little story come to an end, but I'm hoping to have some more Zelink content in the future. Thanks for reading!