A/N: An update?! Is this craziness or what?! Ok so this is really short, but at least it exists right? I know technically it was supposed to be Zelda's turn for a chapter but I really wanted to write this from Link's perspective. I originally planned for this to be the last chapter but because I ended this where I did I think I'm going to have to do one more, epilogue style. Until that rolls out (planned for summer 2023, mark your calendars!), I hope you enjoy this little snippet.

Choices

She's leaning against my shoulder, lost in her own thoughts, when I decide.

I had made all these plans, conjured all these scenarios trying to get it just right, and none of them looked remotely like this. But in that moment, in that gentle strain of peace and silence, I knew I had to tell her right then.

We're just sitting in my apartment, watching a movie on the couch. It's so mundane. But the skyline looks nice, and she's as breathtaking as ever, and my heart is hurting I want to say it so bad.

"Zelda," I murmur, and she shifts against my arm.

She presses her mouth to my shoulder and murmurs, "What is it?"

I sit back a little so I can scan her eyes, and she shifts against the cushion, trying to get comfortable now that I've removed myself. She's propped her head against her fist, waiting. There's a glimmer of impatience in her posture, and it makes me smile on the inside. Because this is the Zelda I want, for as long as I live. This is the Zelda I'm ready to swear myself to forever.

I touch her lip gently and let my thumb trail to her chin, fixated on her mouth. I know she can feel the change in my demeanor. I can feel her trying to puzzle it out. Then I turn my gaze to hers, and I tell her, "I want you to marry me."

She stares for a long time, and the silence is heavy, throbbing with her heartbeat, or maybe mine. I keep waiting, hoping she'll eventually have some kind of reaction beyond the bewildered, troubled expression creeping across her face. She's taking so long I'm starting to lose my nerve.

"I know that probably seems sudden," I murmur, preferring anything, even my own stall tactics, to the sound of the nothingness. I try to search her eyes for some indication of what she's thinking, but she looks away.

"Sudden," she echoes, and releases a breathless, cynical laugh. "Ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" I demand, not sure whether to smile or take offense.

She picks up the remote and mutes the TV, letting it clatter back onto the coffee table while she sorts her response. Her brow is furrowed and she's doing that thing where she chews the corner of her lip, so I know her mind is running a thousand miles an hour. Finally, she tucks a stray curl behind her ear with a huff, turning those pretty blue eyes on me and accusing me, "Just like that? Out of nowhere?"

"It's not out of nowhere," I counter. "I told you months ago I wanted something serious."

"You also said we would take it slow," she reminds me hotly, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I mutter, my voice suddenly husky as my mind floods with too many memories. "I guess that was before I was reminded how easily I could lose you."

She sighs quietly, restraining her argument for a moment. She knows how hellish that car wreck was for me. I couldn't sleep. I lost my appetite. It just brought back too much, and it took every ounce of courage I had to watch her get into her new car and drive away once she'd recovered.

Not that she's about to back down over it, of course.

"Link," she sighs, impatient with me and getting more flustered by the second. "You're always so impulsive!"

"I'm not asking on a whim," I argue quietly. "I've been thinking about it for weeks. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I admit I wasn't planning on proposing like this, exactly… There was going to be a sunset or something..."

She's hardly listening, leaning her brow on her hand before she launches into more of the same.

"Don't you think you're romanticizing this just a little bit?" she demands. "We just get married? Then what?"

"Then we share our lives together?" I hedge, my brow furrowing as I try to figure out exactly what she's getting at.

"That's such an oversimplification," she huffs. "It's hard work! You don't just sign a piece of paper and live happily ever after!"

"I know—"

"And have you considered the logistics of this at all? Where would we live? How would we merge everything? We've never discussed this at all! I don't even know if you want a family!"

I can feel a smile starting to spread over my face, but I try to smother it a little. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."

She flushes, the pretty pink on her cheeks shining through the colors the TV is splashing over her face. I just want this discussion to be over with so I can kiss her.

"Well I can't live like that," she finally says. "I can't just make a series of snap decisions and hope for the best."

I hesitate, disappointed, as the finality of that registers. I take a tentative breath and ask, "Then… are you telling me no?"

"No!" she shouts, sounding aghast, and then turns her head away before I can make heads or tails of her expression.

But I recognize the tension in her shoulders, that artificial silence when she stops breathing. I reach over and take her face in my hand, bringing it back to me. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, her lips trembling as she tries not to make a sound.

"Zelda," I murmur, brushing her tears away softly with my thumb.

She's trying so desperately not to make eye contact as she tries to explain herself. When she finally looks at me, her eyes vitreous and pristinely blue, her answer is just a sad, muted warble.

"What if it doesn't work out?" she quavers softly. "What if you're asking me this with your eyes closed and—" she takes a tiny gasp of air and my heart squeezes, "and you decide you don't want me anymore?"

"Is that what you're so worried about?" I ask her gently, staring into those shimmering eyes I've fallen for a dozen times over by now. I let my mouth tug into a smirk. "If only you knew how ridiculous you sound right now."

I pull her into my arms and she crumples into my chest without resisting. Her tears are tumbling over my collarbone and I can feel her tiny gasps against my throat. I hold her tighter, pulling her into my lap. This is definitely not how I thought my proposal would turn out, but I don't regret it. I feel like I could take on the world for her. If only I could get her to agree to it.

"I love you, Zelda," I promise against her hair. "You know I do. You know that won't ever change."

She sniffles, weighing my sincerity against her fears, and then croaks, "But how can you know for sure that this is really what you want?"

I sigh gently, shifting as I settle us more comfortably against the couch. We'll probably be here for a while. I try to come up with something more profound, but the answer is simple. It's simple, and it's all I ever wanted.

"I'm tired of waking up and you not being there," I murmur. "I fall asleep thinking about you and you're the first thing I think about when I open my eyes. I want to give you everything that's mine, and I want to love you and protect you forever."

She's quiet for a long time, her head resting against my shoulder while she thinks. Then she props herself against my chest, slowly sitting up until we're face to face. Her eyes are glistening and reserved, trying to riddle out the pitfalls of a future no one could really know for certain.

"People think that all the time," she frowns. "They fall in love and don't realize how easy it can be fall right out of it."

"Like with your parents?" I coax her softly. It's not hard to see they merely tolerate each other. It's probably been that way for decades. She stares at her lap, but doesn't react otherwise.

"I just don't want you to be trapped," she whispers. "I don't want you to regret being with me."

I tilt her chin up, trying to get her to see reason. "Would you regret being with me?"

She searches my eyes, and then shakes her head gently. "No. Never."

My heart throbs at the unassuming, unadulterated confidence in her voice, and I can't help my smile as I lean forward to kiss her. "Then you are way overthinking this, Zel."

She lets me have my way, lacing her fingers behind my head as I chase her mouth. I hold her flush against me as I finally take her lips in mine, reveling in the way she meets me partway. I can practically hear the gears still whirring her head, though, and sure enough words start spilling out the second I let her breathe.

"But what if—" I kiss her again impatiently, and when I run my tongue along her bottom lip she sighs softly against my mouth, "—it doesn't work out?"

"Then just divorce me and take half my stuff," I say breathlessly, kissing her again for good measure. "Losing everything would be worth it for a shot at a lifetime with you."

Her expression softens beautifully, and she says, more tears trickling down her cheeks, "Really?"

I smile hugely, knowing I've struck the mark, and wrap my arms tighter around her waist. "Really."

Finally, finally, an emotion I had hoped for breaks through, lighting up her face with a dazzling smile and sending an overwhelmed sob rattling through her.

I ask her again, still holding her close, "Marry me, Zelda."

At first she can't speak, just nodding as the tears run their course. But then she gets a lungful of air and says, "Yes. Yes I'll marry you."

She barely gets the words out before I'm kissing her again. I can't help it; she's making me happier than I ever thought I could be, and I don't know how else to tell her. My head is swimming with the taste and the feel of her, sweeter and softer than anything in the world, when it suddenly dawns on me that something is missing.

"Din," I breathe. "The ring."

Her smile turns wry. "You had a ring?"

"Of course I had a ring," I growl, maneuvering us off the couch and towing her along to my room. I throw my nightstand drawer open, plucking the box out of its place.

I open it without thinking, checking to make sure it's still inside as though it might've just gotten up and walked away. It's still there. The delicate gold band is worked into ivy with tiny diamonds sunken into it where the leaves branch off, and the three triangle settings in the middle are dazzling brilliantly in the sparse light. I hear her gasp quietly; I realize I probably should've gotten down on one knee, or at least opened the box towards her so she could see it better—

"I'm doing this all wrong," I mutter breathlessly, fumbling to take it out of the velvet.

She shakes her head, laughing a little as she extends her left hand towards me. "It's fine."

My hands are shaking as I finally get it out of the box and my heart is hammering. The only sound in the room is our nervous panting, and I'm seriously beginning to doubt whether I'll have the dexterity to get it on her or not. But my hands go steady when I take hers in mine, and I slowly slide the ring onto her finger. For a second she only stares at it, and I let my nerves get the best of me.

"If you don't like it—"

"It's perfect," she whispers, and there's heat in her eyes when she looks at me that makes me feel too warm.

She throws her arms around my neck and I pull her into a fierce embrace. I just hold her for a while, letting the reality of her response sink in. Her mouth is pressed to my shoulder, and one of her arms is only partly draped across my back, held out so she can stare at her ring finger. But I know she's not just looking at a piece of jewelry. She's staring at a promise, at an unwritten lifetime. She's silent for so long I'm starting to wonder if she's regretting saying yes.

Then, finally, she pulls away, just enough so she can look me in the eye, and says, "Marry me now."

"What?"

"Let's get married. Right now."

I hesitate for a beat, my heart throbbing in my throat. "What about your parents?"

"I'll call them."

"You're ok with that? Without the dress and the reception—"

She presses a finger to my lips, silencing the rest. "I'm ok with that."

Now the gears in my head are the ones spinning out of control. I feel like I'm getting swept downstream in the rush of all this, and I don't even mind. I take her hand in mine while I think, pressing my mouth to the back of it. I murmur, "I don't know where we're going to get a marriage license at this hour."

"There has to be a way."

She's looking at me with those eyes—the ones that make me feel weak and strong at the same time. The ones that, apparently, I'm incapable of saying no to.

I take her by the hand wordlessly and we track through the apartment toward the hallway where I grab my keys and a jacket.

Before I know it we're waiting quietly for the elevator. I'm staring at the silvery doors, half-expecting them to open to some other world. I have the strangest feeling of being numb and alive at once, like I'm lucid dreaming. But then she gives my hand a gentle squeeze, and the jolt it sends up my arm makes me certain I'm awake.

She flips her phone out of her pocket and starts dialing. "Maybe my father knows someone."

The elevator arrives with a dignified chime, and we step inside when the doors slide open. She has the phone pressed to her ear as they close, listening to the soft warble of the unanswered line and staring out over the skyline sprawling beneath us.

"Zelda," I murmur, "are you sure about this?"

She spares me a glance, nodding dismissively. "I'm sure."

There's a distinct click on the line as he answers, and I quell the rest of the pointless questions I was about to spew. Zelda isn't impulsive; she isn't one to let herself be bullied into anything or one to make rash decisions. I dwell on that for a bit, comforting myself with the reassurance of it while part of me strains, absolutely mortified, to hear her father's responses to the plethora of incriminating strings she's spouting, like Link and I and marriage license and eloping tonight.

She hangs up after a surprisingly brief exchange and informs me, "He said he'll make a few calls and meet us at the courthouse."

She stuffs her phone in her pocket with the sort of ease that would accompany making plans to go to the movies. But I know in spite of how well she's holding it together that part of her is still terrified. It makes me appreciate the way she's willing to take a leap of faith with me all the more.

I link my fingers tighter in hers. "I love you, Zelda."

"I know," she murmurs pensively, letting her head tip back against the glass. "And I think you always will."