Zelda loathed every moment of rest. Her fever broke after two days, but Ganondorf insisted they wait a bit longer. So a week passed by with agonizing sluggishness. She might have gone insane if there was nothing to do but, out here in the desert, Zelda never really found herself bored. She spent her days wandering the fortress, meeting the desert people, and hearing their stories.

Zelda made a mental tally with each night she didn't have a fever. One. She met with the Gerudo. Two. They taught her their customs. Three. She heard their legends and myths. Four. Ganondorf showed her written Gerudo and slowly went over it with her. Five. He slowly added in speaking.

After that fifth night, Zelda passed through the curtain to her home away from home. The day on the sands had tired her, but she was more used to it now than when she first arrived.

What she wasn't, and never could be, used to was the shirtless figure lounging on her bed. Ganondorf. He compared two sheets of paper a moment longer before he noticed her.

He looked up and gave a toothy smile. "Good evening, Sheik."

"Evening, Ganondorf…" She met his gaze for only a second or two before looking away. She couldn't hold her tongue. She had to ask. So the words came out hesitantly. "Why… are you unclothed?"

"Unclothed?"

"Shirtless."

He snorted loudly but held his laughter. Zelda was grateful for that. If he hadn't, she was sure punching him would have crossed her mind more than once.

"You really are a prudish princess."

"Excuse me?" she repeated through grit teeth.

She couldn't bear to look at him a second longer. That smug smirk alone made her hands shake. They wanted to ball into fists. She wouldn't let them.

"How so?"

She slipped behind a wicker curtain stand and changed into a pale blue nightgown – one of the few things she had managed to keep with her after fleeing the castle. She took a seat next to Ganondorf on the bed.

"You're flustered by the littlest things."

For a moment, her eyes flicked to bare muscles on the king's back and arm. Was this what the tyrant looked like beneath his clothes? Her guards? The townsfolk? It was best not to think on it too long. It wasn't easy, but she focused on the papers Ganondorf was looking at.

"Even the tyrant never let me see him shirtless," Zelda insisted.

"But I'm not him."

"No," Zelda agreed. "You're not. What are you looking at?"

He shifted the papers closer to her. "Maps," he said. "We need a plan of attack."

Except they weren't attacking. Not yet. They were just looking.

The symbols continued to move on the magic map, even if ever so slightly. The general location of the symbols was marked on a larger map with Gerudo writing. Pins with strings connected the symbols.

"Is this acceptable, Sheik?"

She eyed the map carefully. From here, they would head to Hyrule's capital – Castle Town. The south to Ordon. Then Labrynna, Lorule, Termina, and finally Holodrum in a counter-clockwise fashion. From there, they'd take to the sea.

"Seems about right. When do we leave?"

"At dawn." Ganondorf gathered the maps and stood. "It will just be us and a carriage."

"Won't that draw attention to us?"

He shook his head. "A band of Gerudo would draw Link's-"

"The tyrant's," she corrected.

"The tyrant's attention."

"Are you sure we'll be safe?"

Zelda had avoided the capital since her escape three years ago. She hadn't even dared go to neighboring towns. It was too dangerous. Too many guards.

Ganondorf covered her hand with one of his own. She hadn't realized her hands were shaking until then.

"You're afraid…"

He looked down at their hands, then up at her. Zelda risked a glance at the man and found him staring. Their eyes met. She couldn't move. His golden eyes seemed to peer into the heart of her, into everything thought and fear that made her hands tremble at that moment.

"I am."

"Why?"

Zelda bit back the instinct to call the man daft. But that's what he was. Completely daft. An absolute fool. Returning to Castle Town could mean her death. Just because the guards may not recognize her on first glance, it didn't mean they wouldn't on their second or third. Once they knew it was her, they'd kill her. Zelda had no doubt in that.

"I don't want to die," she said.

"I won't allow it." He gently squeezed her hand. "I swear on my life."

"Ganondorf-"

"On the golden goddesses then."

"That's not it!"

He ran a hand through his scarlet mane. "Then what is it?"

"I can't trust you." She pulled her hand away from his. "You'll think of yourself first."

"But I won't allow you to die!"

"Please-"

"What can I swear on then?"

He didn't have to swear at all. To swear on something important so easily was foolish in itself. He'd break his promises just as his guards did. Zelda wanted none of it. But Ganondorf was beyond reasoning. She might as well offer a compromise.

"Something personal," she said. "Something that actually has meaning to you."

His eyes rolled to the top left as he thought, then to the top right. He was silent as he thought – a change for him. Finally, he nodded.

"Then I shall swear on an old Gerudo custom."

"And that is?"

"A kiss."

"What?"

She thought she'd heard him wrong. She must have. But he had already closed the gap between them. He leaned in and pressed his chapped lips against hers for a moment. A shudder racked Zelda's body as he pulled away.

"Was that acceptable?" he asked with a grin.

"What was that?"

"A kiss, of course." He raised a shoulder. "Have you not been kissed before?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean…" Her voice trailed off in a frustrated groan. What kind of question was that? She dragged her hands down her face and peeked through her fingers for a few moments. She hoped he didn't see how red her face was. "What I mean is – why a kiss?"

He quirked a brow and smirked. Zelda was sure he was silently mocking her.

"In my culture, a kiss is sacred. We rarely get too close to someone because of how easily they could kill us. So a Gerudo kiss is a sign of trust and loyalty."

Then did Gerudo kiss each other? But that would mean women kissing women. She was open to Ganondorf's witch mothers, but the thought of desert women constantly churned Zelda's stomach.

"Kissing is meant for romance!" she insisted.

"Not a short one like that," he replied casually.

He really thought it was nothing. That kiss – it was nothing special to him. Unbelievable. Some Gerudo customs would never make sense.

Ganondorf lifted the curtain door and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Sleep well, Sheik. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

"R-right," she said. "Goodnight."

He turned his back to her and left. The curtain fell back in place, only blowing gently in the night air. Zelda waited a few moments in case he returned before hugging her pillow. Maybe if she buried her scarlet face in the soft fabric, things would get better. If not better, at least… normal.

Whatever "normal" was anymore.