Every Shard of My Heart Belongs to You: Flirting with Angst

"Link? What are you doing out here?" Iain approached Link from the great stone arches of the ballroom's exterior. Inside the Princess was hosting her eighteenth birthday party.

Link sighed. "It was too stuffy in there."

"Oh, I stepped out for some air myself." Iain cleared his throat. "Does the Princess know that you're here?"

"I don't think so, but I said I would be here—I mean, she even asked me to be here, though goddesses know why." He tapped his lame foot with his crutch. "Maybe she thought I would make a handsome ornament against her wall."

"Hmm, maybe that's what she thinks of me as well." Iain sat down on the balcony's ledge next to Link. "Forgive my curiosity, but 'Link' is not your real name, is it?"

The hero shrugged. "I've known no other."

"Then what is your surname? I've never heard anyone call you anything but Sir... Link."

Link leaned back on his arms and looked up at the stars. "I've never had one."

"Oh?" The knight raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

"I never knew my father," Link explained, "and my mother passed away soon after I was born."

"Oh. I'm sorry if I—

"No, no; it's fine," he said casually, "I don't even know how old I am either."

After a moment of silence, Iain continued, "My father died when I was young also. I was about five years old. He was captain of the Hylian Army, so I didn't see him much anyway. But my mother is still living. She now serves the King's sister, but once she was a lady in the late Queen's court." He rubbed his chin in thought. "You know, ever since the Queen died, the Royal Family has...Well, it's not as lively around here as it used to be. The King and the Princess hardly see each other. They seldom speak. They're almost strangers, and I cannot bear to see them this way. The Princess grew more distant, cold—especially after you left."

Link looked at him with guilty eyes and then glanced back into the bustling ballroom. Zelda was dancing with some well-established nobleman. He held one gloved hand in his while the other firmly grasped her waist.

"She is beautiful, isn't she?" Iain had evidently traced his gaze to the princess in the soft blue silk gown.

He scoffed. "Words," he muttered, still entranced in his enduring daydream, "She defies words."

Iain inwardly smirked. "She told me last week that you kissed her."

"Oh." Link found his boots suddenly very interesting. "I didn't think she would tell anyone." He abruptly lifted his head and matched Iain's eyes. "She didn't say anything else did she?"

"No. Why?" Iain eyed him suspiciously.

Link leaned his back against the stone pillar of the balcony's arch. "Well, I did kiss her..." Iain prodded him to continue. "I kissed her twice actually. But the way she kissed me back—well, I have never felt anything like that from a woman. It was almost like falling off a cliff. Then all of a sudden she got upset and left the room." He rubbed his face with his hands. "She hasn't spoken to me since. She only looks at me. At breakfast, at dinner, always—as if she expects something from me."

Iain shook his head. "Forgive her, Link. She isn't used to that. You might have scared her—or love scares her."

"I thought maybe it was because she has feelings for you...instead."

Iain chuckled softly. "Don't be ridiculous. I mean, I do... love her, but as a servant loves his master, as a father loves his child. I can never tell her, never show her. I defend a heart that I cannot touch. I don't love her the way she loves you."

"You think she loves me?"

"Goddesses, I hope so, or she wouldn't have spent the last five years pining for even a word from you. She would cry herself to sleep. Once I even heard her call out your name in her dreams. She is probably just afraid that you'll disappear again. If you don't love her, at least don't break her heart, and if you do love her, well, she should know."

Link stared off into the ballroom. "I think I love her," he whispered.

He felt somewhat better, having gotten his confession out and knowing that there was no romantic engagement between Iain and Zelda. He found himself actually admiring Iain for his sense of responsibility and was thankful for his advice.

"Is he a prince from some distant land, that neither of us has ever heard of?"

Zelda leaned in close to her partner's ear. "Who?" she whispered.

"That young man, the one who has been eyeing you all evening," he answered, amused. Zelda briefly glanced over her shoulder, towards the balcony that he had indicated. She saw Link speaking with Iain. She had not really expected Link to come. After that whole episode she didn't anticipate his forgiveness either.

"Are you unwell?" the nobleman asked concernedly.

Zelda looked up, an embellished a smile upon her lips. "No, I am well."

"You've just turned ten shades whiter and..." His words died somewhere between his lips and her ears. Zelda was not focusing on him. She was contemplating whether or not to approach Link. Reaching a decision, she turned to her companion, smiled apologetically, placed a delicate hand in his and quickly excused herself. She weaved through the couples on the congested ballroom floor, which her father prided was indeed solid marble. The princess was impeded by her unexceptional height. Muttering occasional apologies, she navigated to a place on the floor that would allow her to see which direction she was headed. She stood on the tip of her toes and craned her neck in the direction of Link's former position, finding that he was no longer there. She could not have imagined him. Her eyes shifted frantically from one corner to another. Perhaps he had seen her. Perhaps that's why he left. Perhaps he had only left the balcony. Perhaps... Perhaps she should just lie down. It wasn't exactly how she had wanted her birthday to end, but perhaps sleep would bring her a sweeter dream than she could wish from blowing out birthday candles.

Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves. They probably wouldn't even notice she was gone. Without a second thought she decided to head in the general direction of the entrance hall. With so many people it was hard to tell. Did she even know all these people? She stepped into an empty corridor, finally able to breath again. She hadn't taken more than a few steps when she heard clumsy footsteps from behind. She turned, startled to find none other than Link, leaning against a marble column near the frame she had just walked through. He was looking at his feet, his hair hiding his eyes as it often did. She approached him cautiously.

"I did not expect you..." She extended a gloved hand and gently ran satin fingers down his cheek. He flinched at her touch as if it were hot iron to his skin. She looked at him directly, fearful of his sudden response and the fire that burned within his eyes. It was not anger, but it was clearly not joy either.

"Please don't... don't do this to me." His expression softened.

"What am I doing to you?" she asked, softly, holding his face in her hands.

"You pull me close and push me way—then pull me in again? I'm not... I'm not the hook at the end of your fishing rod." He removed her hands from his face. "Please Zelda, just be honest with me. Your silence tortures me. If you would but speak, command me, and I would stay with you."

The princess looked regretful. "But you aren't mine to keep," she said softly.