"Looking a little gloomy today, pal."

Link blinks, the pale light filtering through the glass pane. Ren doesn't usually stop to chat. Maybe it's because he's sitting right up front this morning, in one of the stools.

"Not intentionally," Link says as the bartender leans back against the counter.

"We don't often do things intentionally, do we?" Ren says and adjusts his glasses. He wipes his hands on his apron before casually resting them on the countertop. "I'll fix you another cup. My treat."

Link nods absently. He's the only customer here, as is often the case at this time. Ren slides the mug down to where Link catches it.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" Ren says smoothly and Link is glad he's only just caught the mug because he might have dropped it otherwise.

He shoots an inquisitive look and Ren just shrugs. "I'd say I know the look, but really everyone knows."

Link focuses on the coffee in front of him, the pitch-black surface tremoring before it stills perfectly. He rolls his jaw around for a bit before speaking. "You have a lot of experience in this sort of thing?"

The light refracts off Ren's glasses. "I don't like to brag."

"…I'm close. We're both so close to just…" Link clears his throat and falls silent.

Ren's ambiguous stare penetrates him. "How far have you gone?"

"Nothing we can't walk back."

"But?"

Link just shakes his head. Ren stares at him a moment longer.

"You're not horrible for giving someone what they want. Especially if it's someone you care about."

"It's…not my place to give." Link grimaces before downing half of the mug in one big gulp. The liquid burns his tongue down his throat and the sensation grounds him a little.

"But is it what you want?" Ren leans in inquisitively with perfect poise.

"I can't 'want' her. I'm not even supposed to know her."

"None of us are supposed to know each other, that's the beauty of it. It's also something you can't help." A faint smile tugs at the corners of Ren's lips. "We really don't do these things intentionally."

"…What should I do next?"

Ren sighs as he takes the half-finished mug. "I can't answer that, I'm just a part-timer. But…" He pauses as if considering his choice of words. "I see the way she looks at you. I wouldn't have the heart to keep a girl like that hanging."

Link sits there for most of the day.

Quiet. When Link came here everything was quiet, then it all seemed to fill with this beautiful noise and now it's quiet again. There's no tap of heels dancing through the mansion, no laughter, no schemes. In their place are hushed whispers and side-glances and his boots clunking across the floor with the dead weight in his chest. He urges it to feel heavier.

He brings the tainted liquid up to his lips in a bottle he's already lost count of. The fire crackles dark red and flickers shadows across the entirety of the lounge as a downpour of rain hammers away at the windowpanes and Link thinks he can hear a faint rumble every now and then. The last of the milk trickles down his throat and he grits his teeth. Even with a bottle as big as this the focus comes back too fast. The sheer emptiness of the room settles deep inside Link. No one really comes around to this side of the mansion these days. He drops the now empty milk bottle along all the others and goes to grab a fresh one.

"My apologies. I don't mean to disturb you." Says the small, all too familiar voice and something like a crushing defeat bears down in Link's chest.

He casts an ominous look in her direction as he brings the bottle up to his lips.

"I only came to…to dispose of the decorations." She says and he feels the shadows twist as she makes her way to the mantlepiece. "No one's tended to them in a while. They've suffered too long."

Link scoffs, making his way over to an armchair and collapsing in it. Zelda seems to freeze in his periphery, but he's already putting the bottle to his lips again.

"….did you drink all of these?" she asks quietly. Link just kicks one of the empty ones in response and it rolls down the carpet until it hits the hearth's stone base. He barks out a bitter laugh at nothing and something lurches in his throat and he bites back the bile.

"You know what these are, correct?" Her tone is clearer and commands him to look at her, but she fails to mask the concern in it and Link makes a disgusted expression. She's almost nothing but shapes, head of gold atop a slender form in his bleary eyes and standing so close to the fire as she holds the vase to her stomach.

"It's good." he slurs.

"It's too much." She pauses and he can feel her eyes on him, pitying him, worrying over him and he hates how good it feels. "…please go to bed, Link."

"I'm fine."

The vase is back up on the mantle and suddenly she's hovering over him, the bottle in her fingers instead of his. He can see the anger clear in her eyes and it bolsters his own.

"Go to bed." She says flatly.

Link raises a groping hand. She easily pulls it further out of his reach.

"Give it back."

She's resolutely silent and he reaches again, forcing her to step back as he stumbles to his feet. He takes a single step forward and the room swirls around him for a moment.

"I'm serious," he threatens again after he finds his balance.

"I'm serious too. This isn't yours to take in the first place-"

"Nothing is. Guess I forgot."

"Link…" she pleads but he stops listening.

"That's all I do. Forget." The focus is coming back the more he does or says and he hates it, "I 'forgot' my duty and the world ended, and here I go 'forgetting' again. Not every day you see your world end twice, huh?"

"Don't act as if this is all your doing," she says, her chin trembling as she glares at him and a flash of lightning illuminates her face so that for a second she's almost a ghost. "Don't be so arrogant."

His head is throbbing and he welcomes it. "I'm not supposed to blame you for things. That's not how this works."

"Because I'm some fragile, helpless thing, is that it? Spare me. I knew what might happen, I am not so naïve as to not consider every possibility."

Link grins harshly, straining the muscles in his face, "Thank you for being so considerate."

"But I-" a shudder passes through Zelda's whole body, "This is a good place, meant for good things and good people. I didn't think something so-" she sighs sharply and faces the fire.

"So?" Link says louder, glaring knives at her, "So what? Is that what you'd tell yourself whenever you'd corner me, batting your lashes every other minute, whispering in my ear every other second? You're too much, you're-" his words almost slur into a mess and he stops to breath.

She doesn't face him. "You wanted it." Her voice is hoarse, spiteful.

"…What."

"Someone let me in. That night. Someone called out to me. You wanted it, you wanted me to-"

"Don't."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

There is no answer. Zelda fiddles with her hands and falls silent.

"Whatever you do," Link says after a pause, "Whatever Zelda does. I'm supposed to keep her safe. To keep you happy." He stares to his right, at the shroud of blackness outside the windowpane that seems to swallow them whole in it. "I failed both of you."

Zelda turns. "No," she breathes, "No you haven't."

"Won't be long now," Link mutters, "A few more years and the last of the old things will die and there won't be much of anything left for her. Except me. All that pain, all that suffering. Just so she can lose me to another her."

"Please," Zelda clasps his hands in hers and her gaze is so tender it churns his stomach, "Please don't say such things. After everything you've been through- you did everything right. Do not say even jokingly that you were a mistake."

Link raises his gaze to the ceiling, clenching his jaw as he does so.

Zelda's eyes are wet. "I should not have done this. Spoken to you like this. Things were getting better when we stopped existing to each other. I can leave this lounge right now and you will never speak with me again for the rest of the tournament."

"You can't guarantee that."

"I absolutely can."

"…I can't guarantee that."

Her chest heaves. "Please. I can't be this. Please, I can't be the ruination of another."

His silence draws another shuddering breath out of Zelda, and she lets his hands slide out from under hers.

"Just as well, I suppose. This selfish heart of mine. Repulsive."

She spits the word with such contempt it forces Link to look at her. "You're not."

She casts her gaze down, her chin trembling. "I want. Every waking moment, I want and I want and no matter what I do or say I cannot stop chasing after a memory. Others tell me I am good and just and I was so eager to believe them. How 'good' and 'just' have I been to you? Stupid. Ugly. It is an ugly, evil thing for someone like me to want so terribly."

Her words strike like a burning knife in Link's chest and the rumbling outside surges into a roar. "Zelda…"

"I don't deserve to want. I don't deserve this, you, this place filled with good things and good people. I destroy. I lead them astray-"

"Stop."

"I don't deserve to be. He shouldn't have heard me. He shouldn't have listened to me when I called to him, he should have turned away, he shouldn't have saved me, he, h-he-" she sniffles to a stop as Link pulls her into a rough embrace and he almost falls as the roar fades into rain pelting against glass.

She buries her face in his tunic, shaking so badly he thinks she'll shatter in his arms as he strokes with numbed fingers through the river of her hair, the motion so sickeningly familiar, the blue of his tunic bunched up between her fingers. They're the same height but she's so small here. Nothing is how it should be. How should it be? He doesn't know. She's trembling. He doesn't know.

"You're not a mistake." he tries, "If I can't be one, then…" She lets out another miserable, pathetic sob and Link's words strangle in his throat and his eyes clench so tightly he sees spots and he fights so, so hard. It's the hardest fight he's ever had and he's kicking and screaming in his head with his body gone utterly rigid. He doesn't notice her arms wriggling out of his grip until they snake around under his own, hands caressing and soothing gently between his shoulder blades even as she struggles and breathes shakily through her nose. Link's eyes shoot open and he feels that last bit of himself slip between his fingers and the screams die in the fog that swallows them whole.

He lifts her chin up and she slows her ministrations to a stop, staring at him wide and doe-like. Her breath hitches as his lips envelop hers and then she's frozen in his hands, as if waiting for permission. He deepens the kiss, gently parting her lips with his tongue and then slowly but surely her fingers are there, tangling in his hair. Her moan drowns in the kiss, muted and far away and then she closes her eyes and her grip tightens and he pushes forward.

They breathe ragged and heavy as he slams the door behind them. She's palming every inch of his body she can reach, desperate movements as he tastes her on his tongue. She struggles to lift his shirt and he obliges her, and they're on each other again before the shirt hits the floor. It's quickly followed suit by the thud of a golden waistbelt, earrings in the form of the holy symbol, a glittering tiara made heavy by the blood-red ruby in its center. His hands are running down the length of her arms and he revels in the gooseflesh and she whimpers when he tears the dress from her shoulders down to her feet, leaving her in nothing but the lace-white of her undergarments. Squatted down there he sees the expanse of her leg, golden and magnificent in the lamplight and Zelda shivers under his gaze. She's so perfectly smooth, not a hint of fuzz to be found. Goddesses.

He's open-mouthed against her skin, tongue lolled out and dragging as he breathes hotly against the wet trail he's leaving and she's grabbing desperately at his head, begging him up. His hands run up the firm flesh of her legs and he quickly rises up to her face, digging into the plump globes of her ass and drawing a sigh from her when he lifts her into the air. The room swirls and he's on the bed and she's straddling him with focused, hungry eyes. She's rushing to help him undo his pants when something else falls and everything seems to stop at the soft thud against the carpet.

Zelda tosses her hair behind her in a glorious motion as she leans over to pick it up. He rises to kiss at her exposed shoulder and she coos and he's worked his way over to where her shoulder meets her neck when she comes back up and he sees what she's holding. His panting slows as he lowers himself back on the bed and he watches as Zelda stares at the photo of the girl who shares her name.

Her eyes are wide but betray no emotion. Link breathes slowly and something forgotten tries to claw its way back through the fog. Zelda stares for a while longer before she leans in to press a slow, almost reverent kiss to the photo's surface, her eyes fluttering shut as she does so before delicately placing the frame back in its place aboard the bedside table. She gazes at him with such open adoration and Link's panting and they pounce on each other again.

Her breasts are smaller. Link kneads them in his hands and hears her squeak as he plants his lips in the river between them before moving to take a nipple in his mouth.

They're slick with sweat and the air is heavy with its scent. She's on him in a way she never was and together they're a mess of tangled limbs and murmurs and gasps twisting in the damp sheets. The light catches the contours of her body, the dip of her back or the flex of an arm muscle and he marvels at the excellence of it all. She's lithe, slender in a way that she isn't and livelier, more eager to get in there and explore. Her feet dangle in the air and she pants as she laps at the ripples of his abdomen, excited, wet sounds as she playfully fondles and strokes the length of him with her fingers and she glances up in hunger each time he groans. He pulls her up to him and she giggles at the force in it.

Hours later and he's filling her, her eyes shot and her mouth open in a silent scream as she arches up into him. Experimentally he bears down on her, almost crushing her with his weight and her legs squeeze him deeper as his vision fills with blue. His fingers slide down the small of her back, running over the dimples there before he holds firm and grunts with each thrust. Smacks of flesh upon flesh gradually fill the air and her arm spasms around his other wrist and he gladly grants her the anchor.

She strokes tenderly at his face with her other hand, her bangs flinging droplets of sweat in his face as he ruts into her. She stares slack-jawed into his eyes, her own full of awe.

"I wanted you," she murmurs and her gaze fogs with each thrust, "I wanted you from the moment I saw you."

Link slows for a moment and the fear clouded by pleasure is there in an instant, in the shakiness of her breath. He stares into her and nods, almost to himself.

"I wanted you too."

Her eyes dilate and a broken squeal escapes her lips, quickly drowned out by the violent creaking of the bedframe as Link drives into her again and again.

The lamp's still on. He sits hunched and naked by the bedside table. She's there behind him, lying on the flat of her stomach with her eyes peacefully shut, serviced and spent and wonderful and awful. He can't look. The silence is deafening, the sweat drying in the dull gleam and his hands clenched on either side of him in the sheets.

He wordlessly pulls the photo frame down onto its face.

He waits for his coffee, sitting alone in his favorite spot right next to the window where the light seeps through as excited murmurs echo inside coffeeshop. It's slowly begun to pick up on popularity, just as the tournament's nearing its end. End. It all seems so quick now. All those matches Link can't remember. He might have to make some up before he gets back home. Home. He flinches at the thought.

Something catches the light, flashing for a moment in his periphery. Platinum hair. She was already sitting there, chatting excitedly with her friends when he snuck in. She might not even know he's here. Then again, she knows this is his favorite spot. His eyes bore into the back of her head and he wonders if she can feel it.

"Looking sharp as ever there, friend." Ren's voice bursts through his thoughts as he places the mug in front of him.

Link nods affirmatively. Ren shoots him a small smile and goes to leave.

"Hey."

Ren turns, brow raised. "Hm?"

"…How does this work? The next season, I mean."

"I'm new here myself, remember?" His lips quirk knowingly, "But from what I've gathered, if there's a new season announced then you get another letter and I get another letter, and the rest is-"

"If?"

Ren blinks. "There's never a guarantee. The big guy likes to keep certain things a surprise, so really you never know if there'll be another tournament until there is."

"What happens if there isn't?"

Ren smiles daringly. "Then I guess it really would be goodbye. That'd be a shame."

"Hm." Link almost loses himself in thought before his eye catches his drink. "What's…?"

"Figured I'd mix things up a little this time," Ren says, "A little cream and sugar here and there never hurt anyone, did it?" He winks before responding to another table's call.

Link frowns at the surface, a tan, rich color. He hesitates before taking a sip. It is unfortunately very sweet. He cringes as the hot liquid settles in his stomach.

His eyes are drawn back to Zelda, her form hidden beneath the cape and the pauldrons and the tiara. That elegant shape he knows so well now. She knows him too. He thinks of what they did, saw, touched, tasted and he shudders. Everything is just out there now, in the open, and all the guilt and secrecy seemed to get thrown out in the process. Is that all it was? Getting it out of his system? Hers?

…What happens when they go back to where they belong?

Ren's at her table. He says something and she laughs pleasantly, drowned out by the murmur of the shop and no, there shouldn't be another tournament, another mansion, never again. He will not answer that invitation.

Ren's withdrawal from the table brings Link back to the present and he almost jumps. Eyes, big and blue and piercing right into his own. His chest hitches.

He won't accept that letter. He won't come back.

A moment passes and she smiles, peaceful and full and filled with understanding. His throat wells up and all the guilt, the secrecy, the sin, the love. It was always there. Her smile wavers and she turns back to her friends and it's like she takes it all with her. Link stares for a while longer before glancing over to the pale sun rising above the mansion where everything happened.

He won't do it. He won't. He won't. He…won't.

Link's sigh withers out of him, and he sinks into his seat. He takes another sip of his coffee, rich and tan and irrevocably changed. The sweetness is less painful.