Summary: A relationship in full bloom, blossomed in the falling snow, Link and Zel enjoy their free time together before they have to pack it all up again and travel to the final Divine Beast they need to tame.

Needless to say, they get a little distracted.

Content Warning: violence, angst, and sexually explicit content.

Author's Note: The next chapter will be posted July 28th. I didn't want this to get posted until the following chapter (chapter 15) was finished as well. This chapter was... very hard for me to write.


Link is starting to stir.

He's a little dazed, a little sore, but a smile breaks from his lips as he inhales sweetly. The cabin is filled with nothing but warmth. There's the sounds of soft embers crackling in the fireplace, the first rays of sunrise peeking in through the tiny windows, and there's the radiant heat of her body snoozing soundly just beside him. Slow and relaxed, his heavy eyelids open to see her and the scene before him is better than any dream. Zel's hair is tangled atop the pillow like golden strands of sunlight and Link watches in silence as the back of her shoulder rises up and down with her breath. He's absolutely mesmerized by the state of her, by the state of them. They've spent countless nights together at multiple inns, bedrolls under the stars, their own home in Hateno, but never like this; never this bare, never this naked, and never more perfect. He can't recall a night where he's seen her sleep so calmly, so peacefully, and he's torn between letting her sleep or waking her with kisses.

But he just can't resist.

Closing the small distance between them, Link molds the outline of her body with his own. He drapes a hand over her waist, gently nudging her closer and her inhale deepens—his embrace pulling her from twilight and there's a sigh that escapes her lips, something airy and soothing and he wonders what it might be like to wake up every day to that sound.

He kisses her shoulder, achingly deliberate, moving closer to her neck with each kiss. His lips wander, tasting her skin like he did the night before only lighter now, to not startle her from sleep too abruptly, but his breath is hot against her neck and he can almost see the rush of warmth trickle down her skin, cascading across sunspots and freckles, scars and beauty marks—all the parts of her that Link has already memorized. Lost in a carnal daze, he grazes his hand along her stomach from one hip to the other, enjoying the freedom to touch her and explore her as he pleases, tracing everywhere until his fingers linger along the curve of her breasts then up her arm and onto her shoulder and a wave of goosebumps trail behind his touch, everywhere he goes. She lets out a soft, lazy moan as she stretches into the delicacy of morning, making her ass press against his growing erection, and so he tilts his hips forward to meet her.

Her sounds and movements are becoming heavier, demanding that he touch her more prominently in ways that no longer tease as she's waking. She's melting into him with every kiss he gifts on her arm and neck and with every path he makes with the tips of his fingers, Link savors the fact that she wants his calloused hands all over her body, wants his lips against her clavicle, but this morning he doesn't want to assume any more than that so he leans in, grazes his lips along her ear and kisses gently before he whispers softly.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes," she breathes.

Link takes his time as he snakes his hand back down her side, feeling every dip and curve of her. She's so soft, impossibly soft against such rough hands—those that have seen war time and time again. Yet she opens up for him, allows the scars of a swordsman to touch her between her legs as she spreads them; draping one to rest over both of his, and she waits for him.

Sticking two fingers in his mouth, Link draws them out from his lips with a low hum, then trails them back down her body. He gives her ass a playful squeeze that makes her sing a lazy hiss at him that he can't help but hide his smile onto the freckles of her shoulder. There's kisses he leaves there, softer than the touch of a summerwing butterfly, before he brushes his fingers across her leg, blankets his palm over the apex of her thighs, pulls her just another inch closer, then drags his hand down.

The first touch he makes sends her quietly gasping and grabbing for the pillow. His fingers are consistent and steady, movements so sensually languid as their bodies wake in carnality, fueling with a morning heat as perfect as the wetness between her legs. Her hips roll back towards him, feeling him hard and firm on the soft curve of her asscheeks and he's taking his time with her, feeling and exploring, memorizing each moan she makes to every swirl and swipe of his fingers. Judging by the uncontrolled twitches and higher whimpers, Link learns she's much more sensitive in the morning—her sounds thoroughly different than the deep moans she made into his mouth the night prior, and it feels like he's meeting her for the first time all over again; learning what touch makes her back arch, what kiss makes her groan.

He presses himself against her backside over and over, a slow rhythmic grind in the making as he pleasures her with his fingers. He draws circles around her clitoris—careful not to drive her over the edge too quickly. She's slick and wet and entranced by his movements and it makes him smile when he plants kisses all over her skin, everywhere he can reach. He slides his fingers further down, down, down until he feels where she opens for him and pushes a finger inside. It's barely there, on the cusp of her opening, and he's pleased when a new sound leaves her lips. It's otherworldly and pleading and he's so desperate to draw this out, to make love to her—Gods, he would pleasure her for hours if he could, and he has a feeling they're not going to get much farther than these bed sheets for a long, long while.

When he feels her getting too worked up, too tense in the muscles and her moans getting higher, he retracts and pauses, focusing more on lavishing kisses to her upper body instead. He's detailed and continuous, so meticulous with his work as if he's wielding a paintbrush all over her body, all over the canvas he's spent months admiring. When he hears her whimpers return to adoring sighs, he picks up the pace with his fingers again. He focuses on the spot that makes her breath hitch, makes her back arch the most and her hands grip the hardest, until Zel turns her head and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes are still closed but her lips are active, quivering as she whispers to him.

"Link, I want you inside me."

Such a direct request has him biting his bottom lip and whining.

She whimpers at the loss of his fingers when Link moves to pleasure himself briefly, stroking and coating his erection with wetness as she arches her back even more in waiting and in wanting. He angles lower, shifts closer, directs himself between her legs. Clumsily under the covers, he moves a little awkwardly at first, but then he feels her hot and wet against the tip of his dick, then slides into her gently.

They both groan in unison by the firm press of their bodies, with Link's parted lips vibrating against her back and hers against the pillows. The feeling of entering her is just as electrifying as it was twice the night before and it sends a full-body shiver straight up his spine. This feeling, this connection to her, it's inebriating and dangerously addicting and he can't be more grateful to have her this way.

He starts to move painstakingly slow, sensing the tight squeezes she makes as she clenches around him. A few more unhurried push-and-pulls until he begins to rock into her, steady and well paced. At this angle, he doesn't have the availability to fully press himself into her, but their bodies are so responsive, so sensitive in the morning that it's all they need to bring a rush of heat burning between them. Her whole body rocks in response to his repetitive thrusting so he places a firm hand on her hip, helping to stabilize her, and she starts to shift back harder, timing the roll of her hips to meet his every time, both working towards an end goal now, and he just can't get over how good this feels, how well they work together.

"Gods, Zel."

"I know Link, I—" She tries to reply but her breath catches in her throat as she starts to push back against him even harder.

He knows she's close and he wouldn't dare deny her, so he brings his fingers between her legs again to guide her there. He moves slow and steady, in and out of her as he draws fast circles with his fingers and she's reaching behind her with a clumsy hand, frantic and desperate and completely at his mercy, trying to grab any of him to hold onto. She finds his ass and squeezes hard, nails digging into his skin that it makes him growl into her back like a wild animal, and he has to stop himself from biting her. It's salacious and honest, soft sex ignited with a sharp hold, a grip that begs him to take her there, and then he hears his own voice coaxing and persuading and it startles him just how lewd and hot it sounds.

"That's it Zel. Come for me."

Then suddenly her body goes tight and she's keening, surging back against him uncontrollably as she hits her peak. She squirms in his hold and Link draws out her orgasm with slow circles centered over her clit and a steady rhythm of his hips thrusting as deep as he can. He knows his own climax isn't far behind, but he tries to ignore it—there's no rush if they're going to be at this all day. So he lets her come down from her high, doesn't interrupt the evolution of mewls to moaning, and peppers her with calming kisses as he waits.

She begins her descent back to reality with slow breaths normalizing and her body melting back onto the bed. There's a soft sigh that leaves her lips when he withdraws from her, and she doesn't protest when he rolls her onto her back and settles between her legs, flipping the blanket away and behind him. She's lying fully on her back as he watches her graceful movements; the lulling of her knuckles sliding up the wrinkled bed sheets, how her bare chest tilts out to him just slightly—the soft mounds of her breasts gently rocking by the new position change. Her eyes are still closed and there's the most satisfied smile growing on her lips. She's absolutely radiant in her post-orgasm glow that it takes his focused breath right out of him.

Then her eyes flutter open for the first time today, revealing that lustrous emerald color he can never get enough of, and by the Gods if his memories ever escape him again, this one will not—he will never allow it.

"Good morning," he beams down at her.

"It definitely is," she says, then adds; "…your hair's a mess."

He laughs bashfully, instinctively dragging a hand through his shoulder-length hair. "Yeah, well, you sort of took my hair tie."

"And I might not give it back. I love your messy hair."

"You love it?" If his cheeks weren't already flushed from morning sex, they would be now. The thought of Zel loving anything about him makes his head cloudy.

Her fingers are sliding up his forearms when she answers confidently. "Yes, I do."

They stay like that for what seems like hours before either of them move—too caught up in each other's smiles, too distracted to care about anything besides the present.

Her fingers slide past his elbows, up along his biceps until her reach has reached its limit and she's wanting more of him.

"Kiss me," she says and he does.

Folding his body over hers, Zel reaches for their lips to meet and when they do, they're slow-moving and lazy, sweet morning kisses with deep inhales and sighing exhales. He presses his tongue gently against her lips and he can tell they're swollen from the journey she was on last night so he kisses her as if to heal, though he realizes his must be in the same state.

One of her legs glides up his waist as prominent fingers comb through his hair, pulling a sound of pleasure from low in his throat and he suddenly remembers he hasn't even finished yet. He can feel her own moans vibrate on his tongue before he even hears them and there's a gradual shift that happens. She's lifting her head up from the bed to push into his mouth, becoming more forceful, more demanding, pushing and pulling and with every new brush of their lips, every swipe of their tongues, and his erection gets harder, their groans get louder, and Link thinks if he doesn't fuck her right now, he might just come all over her belly.

He pulls his lips away to steel himself and to catch his breath. With foreheads meeting, he brings a hand down between their bodies to hold himself, fingers curling around his erection, and with sex-hazed eyes he watches the tender moment as he guides himself inside her.

He sinks into her opening, pushes as deep as he can, and loses himself to the feeling. Dropping his head into her hair, Link breathes in slowly, basking in her scent. She smells like sex and sweat, a luscious unkempt garden full of peonies, an autumn forest with winter's breeze—all the smells of him and her together and it almost breaks him by the aroma alone, but her legs are wrapping around his waist, her fingers are snaking through his hair, and she brushes her mouth against his temple to place a kiss there, patiently waiting for him to start moving. Honestly, she'd probably be fine with it if they stayed like that for the whole morning, unmoving and unhurried, but eventually he lifts his head just enough so she can plant kisses on his neck as he begins to move.

Last night, he had her guidance. Now, he has his confidence to pleasure her in the way he knows how.

He rocks into her gently, starting slow and deliberate, taking his time until he begins to move faster, a lazy steady pace that's perfect for the morning. Link counts each and every kiss she gifts him like it's a blessing—collecting and representing them as each and every day they've shared to get to this point here, in this bed together, and he wonders how many more kisses he'll be granted by her in his lifetime. How many times will she want to do this with him? When will she get tired of him? The sounds she's making with every deep stroke inside her is evidence enough that she wants him just as badly as he wants her, and that simple thought is enough to make him smile.

Suddenly he rises, taking his weight off her until his knees are pressed into the mattress and his hands are gripping her inner thighs for leverage. He looks down, ravenous to watch her as he ruts his hips again and again and again, watching her face flush and her lips part and how her whole body shifts up and down, up and down the bed with every thrust and he gets lost, mesmerized, no obsessed by how much it pleases him. His gaze is fixated on her breasts, the softness of her skin and the hardness of her nipples bouncing in unison so he pinches one just to see what it would do to her. He's blessed with a teeth grit, a sharp inhale as her head tilts back even farther over the pillows and she groans. Her eyes are closed, jaw clenched tight, chin pointed to the sky as she grabs the headboard and he can't help but voice his own thoughts out loud.

"You're so fucking sexy Zel. Gods, just look at you."

She almost scoffs at him but she's too far gone now—panting and huffing against his constant rutting that she can barely coordinate her next few words.

"Whatever you do… just… don't stop—don't stop, Link. Just like that." She begs until she releases a high pitched whine that takes the strength right out of him.

Link folds on top of her again, thrusting harder and pushing them both into their release. Frantically, he searches for her lips as he places a hand to her jaw; cradling the side of her face like she's the most precious thing to him because he realizes that she is. He kisses her hard as the bed frame rattles, rocking into her as she's sighing and moaning and desperate to touch any part of him until she's there. Falling, back arching, her lips part and they quiver as he pushes her into her orgasm again and the satisfaction of pleasuring her not once but twice this morning makes him finally release his own. With lips barely brushing, they feel each other keening, gasping shaky breaths as they buck uncontrollably and he comes hard, sinking deep—as deep as he can, and tries to ride out the wave of their orgasm for as long as possible.

When he senses that they finally have some control of their breathing, Link finds her mouth through touch and hazy vision and kisses her—soft and sweet and adoringly passionate. He's still inside her, pulsing as he finishes and she's still throbbing, breaths gone hoarse by the sheer amount of moaning, and he has no intention of pulling out anytime soon. He wants to lay in this bed for days, weeks, just kissing her and pleasuring her and letting the world carry on without them, and she kisses him back with the same fire and energy. Light but insistent, he just knows she's thinking the same thing, but he's so distracted by kisses gone sloppy and lips breaking into shared smiles that he almost doesn't process what she's trying to say to him.

"I will never… ever grow tired of—of kissing you," she says.

A sudden rush of emotion, a breath so sharp he'd choke if he didn't try to contain it, Link slowly pulls his lips away to rest his forehead against hers. She wants him, craves him, and by the sounds of things she never wants anyone else to kiss her ever again, besides him.

"Please don't say that unless you mean it," he breathes.

Soft movements rustle the bed sheets as Zel shifts to cradle his face in her hands. And he moves with her; lifting up far enough to meet her eyes. They're glimmering at him—two green jewels that are focused just on him.

"Have I ever said anything to you that I didn't mean?" Her eyes are so serious and honest, smiling with sincerity and sweetness that Link has to swallow the lump forming in his throat. Things have changed between them, their relationship won't ever be the same, and Goddess were they ready to accept that—

—but then his stomach grumbles so obnoxiously, it sounds like a moblin snoring in its sleep, and it ruins the entire sentimental moment.

Zel turns her head to laugh into the pillow and Link takes the opportunity to kiss her neck chastely, making her squeak, but he quickly scoots off her and abandons the bed completely. Collecting his underwear and trousers from where they were abandoned last night on the hardwood floor, Link gets dressed as Zel wraps herself in the blanket and shamelessly, she watches him.

"I'll cook breakfast for us and then—" He's fastening the buttons of his trousers when he looks over his shoulder, says; "then I'm going to have you for dessert."


Two days later, Zelda figures they should probably do something… else. Perhaps something that's more productive to the world than barely leaving the warmth of their rented cabin. They had fucked so many times within those two days that Zelda would have to consciously think about each session to remember them all. All that pent up sexual frustration over the course of their relationship had finally been released, finally admitting to one another that they desired more. No longer was their relationship based solely on mutual understanding, on an emotional desire to care for one another and to carry each other's burdens, but now there was a physical necessity between them, a lustful need that they were both trusting the other with.

The conversation came up when they were lying on their backs on the fur carpets of the cabin's hardwood floor. Naked and panting, dewy with exertion, tingling with the aftermath of yet another satisfying session when Zelda started to feel a little guilty that she was getting lazy at pushing the hero to continue his journey.

"Link?" She said, taking her eyes off the ceiling and turning her head to look at him.

His eyes were closed as he made a short moaning sound that could perhaps be the equivalent of a reply. With that satisfied smile on his face, Zelda couldn't recall a time before the Calamity where he didn't seem so… whole.

"When do you think we should crawl back to society?"

"Never." He grumbled.

She twisted over and nipped him playfully with her teeth, dangerously close to his exposed nipple. It made him squeak, flexing in reflex as he cupped his chest in case she tried to do it again. Zelda couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm serious, we both have our roles to play."

"What do you suppose we do? Pack up tomorrow and head to the desert?" He huffed to express how much he really didn't want to do that, then mirrored her pose and pouted.

Both lying on their sides in the flickering firelight, Zelda's gaze fell to the deep purple hickeys on his neck that she left there, knowing she had several of her own.

"Well, I didn't say that, but there's more to Hebra than just snow and ice. I hear there's some leviathan bones lying around in a cave not far from here."

He perked up at the mention of giant bones he could climb. "No. Way. I saw this super big carcass in Eldin while I was exploring there. And I met some people at a stable that said it might be the remains of a great Sky Whale."

She blinked in mild annoyance. "You're just telling me this now?"

"What?" He shrugged in defense. "I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Doing you," he said immediately, smiling that boyish grin. She rolled her eyes and laughed.

It didn't take much more convincing to change up their cabin routine. The morning after, she woke before Link did and felt a familiar pain in her lower abdomen, and when she returned from the outside privy, he was still in bed, just barely awake. He peeked a sleepy eye open and looked at her.

"I'm bleeding."

In a panic, Link lifted his face from the pillow, groggy eyes darting all over her body. "Where?"

She tsked her tongue, smirking at the pillow crinkles on his cheek and how his hair jutted out at odd angles. "Y'know… down there." Her voice trailed off as she awkwardly gestured towards her groin.

"Oh." He tried blinking away the sleep spell, but he quickly surrendered. His cheek smacked against the pillow as he plopped back down and groaned in satisfaction. In his sleepy squirming, he turned the other way and all Zelda could see was his bare back and the waistband of his underwear. He mumbled, "it's about damn time."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're wearing me out, woman."

"I'm wearing you out?" She laughed sarcastically.

He didn't have to be facing her for Zelda to know he was smiling—she could just feel the cheekiness in the room. He stretched his legs beneath the blankets and his voice was strained in his stretch as he spoke. "Goddess, give a man a break."

"Oh, you are so going to get it—"

Leaping like a stalking predator, Zelda pounced on her prey and got the squeaks and laughter she was hoping for. He flayed about in his squirming fit, blankets and bedsheets disheveled by playful war, and he rolled onto his back to dodge the tickle attempts, but it was no use. The morning battle ended with Link catching his breath, choking on chuckles, as her jabs at his armpits morphed into kisses caught on his clavicle.

Two hours later, they're at the entrance to the leviathan cave in Hebra.

"No, Link, I told you that's not right."

His palms smack against his snowquill trousers as he gives up. "Then you solve it."

Groaning at his bullheadedness, Zelda drags her eyes away from the Hero and onto the puzzle before them. He's tried banging the door down with his own weapons—until one shattered on him—so they tried throwing snowballs at it until she accidentally hit the back of Link's head, so they took several steps back and that's when they discovered the large balls of snow and the various ways of pushing them down the hill towards the cave entrance.

Chewing the inside of her lip, Zelda begins mumbling through her thought process. "The snowball will need momentum, but it doesn't work if we push it around the rocks because it gets too heavy, so it has to go through the rocks somehow, but there's this crevice of water that stops it. How…?"

"Zel, I'm cold and I want to see the bones—"

"Shh!"

She glances at him in her typical 'you can't rush brilliance' expression, and he turtles into his tunic, fiddling with the patchy down feathers sticking out of the fabric.

It doesn't take long for Zelda's aha! moment, and within seconds she's using the cryonis rune to create a bridge of ice in the puddle of water, and instructing Link to pick up the heavy snowball to toss it down the hill. The moment it crashes into the cave entrance, demolishing the grand icy door, Link is turning towards her in admiration, but it's shortly replaced by a smirk and quirky comment.

"I could've figured that out."

"Sure, three days from now," she rolls her eyes. "If you were out here for that long, you'd be a snowman."

His smile turns bashful. "Would you still be attracted to me if I was…? Had a little button nose?"

"If you were a snowman, your nose would probably end up being an endura carrot, but…" She turns to him and places a chaste kiss on his rosy cheek. "Lucky for you, I like carrots."

She can tell it's not the bite of the cold that makes his cheeks tint a little pinker.

Paragliders flap through the snowy air as she and Link glide down the hill, wide smiles on their wind-burnt faces. She glances over to him, watching expert hands grip the creaky wood as if he's meant to dangle there forever, viewing Hyrule from the sky. In her ancient royal history lessons, Zelda once learned about a hero of the skies, how he dove from the cloud cover when his Spirit Maiden had gone missing and she wondered, rather briefly before their feet touched down on the ground, if their past lives also had such an arduous journey to find each other again… and whether or not she had broken that cycle for their future.

The gargantuan skeleton sheathed halfway in the ice is more than enough to stop her thoughts from spiraling.

"Wow," Link breathes, taking a few steps closer to it.

Chin tilted towards the sky, she replies, "All this time, I never knew this was here."

He turns to her. "Have you explored a lot of the Hebra mountains already?"

Zelda tears her eyes away from the skeleton to meet his. There's a soft smile shared between them. "Not yet. I wanted to wait for you so we could do it together."

There's a subtle shift in his expression, something soft and sentimental. If he truly was a snowman, he'd be melting just a little.

The sweetness breaks when he returns his gaze to the leviathan and starts jogging towards it, states, "I'm gonna climb it."

That didn't take very long. "Just don't pee over the edge."

"Oh my gods, that's a great idea!" He says, turning over his shoulder with a devious smile.

She rolls her eyes, but fails to hide her own growing grin.

Link stops, then turns around. "Hey, why don't you give me a lift?"

For only a moment, Zelda blinks in confusion, unsure what he's referring to exactly, until it hits her. A soft blush appears on her face, along with a well-placed smile, and she steps into the space between the bones of the large ribcage above them, and closes her eyes.

Feathers caught in a breeze, the flapping of soaring wings, Zelda has never felt more free than when she's gliding in the air. There's a rush, a weightlessness, and like the creation of a whirlwind, slowly then all at once, a gust picks up around her and the very second she releases her paraglider is the same second her feet take off the ground and she's giggling.

To give the gift of flight to Zelda, the last Princess of Hyrule, rather than the Slumbering Hero destined to right her own wrongs, Revali must have finally placed some long awaited faith in her.

The sound of another paraglider taking off from the ground has Zelda opening her eyes and looking over to Link. He's swift and diligent, strong arms gripping the wooden handles as he meets her at eye-level, flashes her an award-winning smile, then sets off for the closest bone to climb.

As Link explores all around the gargantuan carcass, climbing and gliding from one bone to another, Zelda busies herself by examining up close. She considered taking some samples with her, but without her royal lab and Sheikah team at her disposal, Zelda can't exactly carbon date materials like she was able to do before the Calamity. Perhaps when this is all over, when she and Link can spend their days together rebuilding Hyrule with those who volunteer to help, Zelda can pick up her hobby of studying ancient history again.

After accessing the To Quomo shrine, they take many pictures of the leviathan bones along with several self-portraits. It's become one of Link's favorite things to do together; posing and making ridiculous faces at the camera. He's quickly become a great photographer, always capturing the best lighting or angle. The last time she visited Purah, Zelda was brainstorming a way to print the pictures he takes onto some kind of material so he can frame his favorites in their house. She's currently experimenting with different materials that'll capture the image quality the best, and she's getting really close to finishing a prototype.

"I love this one," Link says. He's holding onto the Sheikah slate, pointing to the picture he brought up on the screen, as if it wasn't already obvious by how long he'd been admiring it.

It's a simple picture of them standing in front of the leviathan bones. They're centered perfectly in the middle, with the sheen of the ice highlighting their features as it glistens in the background. Link's arm is around her waist, pulling her so close to the point he managed to squeeze a laugh out of her, but all Zelda can fixate on is the unrecognizable woman in the picture staring right back at her.

Azella, the wandering archer with a jagged scar on her face, is no Princess—at least not one Hyrule has ever seen. She's rough around the edges, agile and clever, skin freckled and marked in more ways than it ever had while she was royalty. It's no wonder Link can't recognize her—why he doesn't even try to remember her—because the woman at his side is beautiful in all her imperfections and utterly distracting.

Except… he said her name.

Days ago, Zelda felt like she was on the verge of a heart attack, and she wasn't sure if it was the orgasm she'd suppressed for a century, or the fact that Link called her by her birth name. In the heat of the moment, when they collapsed on that bed and Link's eyes finally cracked open, she searched them hard and meaningfully, expecting a new dawning realization in his expression, but it wasn't there. He didn't even know he had said it.

She can't even begin to understand the complexity of the mind, even more so how it's connected to the heart. Does his heart recognize her while his mind simply fails to make the connection? Or has she been feeding him too many lies to bury her identity, and it's only made matters worse for him. Not any better.

"I look so different," she says, voice quiet as a whisper.

"Sorry, what?"

"I love it, too," she says.

» . «

After their exploration of the leviathan bones, they decide to venture into Rito village to buy more tabantha wheat and make dinner at Rito stable. It's a bit warmer there compared to their little cabin in the snowy mountains and considering they can't exactly spend their evenings the way they have been lately, they figure spending some time in public would be a pleasant change.

Upon arrival, they catch the end of Kass's accordion playing although he wraps up quickly to make it home to dinner with his family. They promise to visit his daughters soon, and possibly babysit in the next couple of days, and as they send a goodbye wave in Kass' direction, there's a glint in his clever eye that catches in the evening sun. Kass can tell there's something different between them, how they carry themselves around each other now, how Link moves when she moves. No longer does Link stand idly by, waiting for a brisk moment to touch or brush against her in some way. He's lost that uncertainty, holding onto hope for a spark to ignite because they've already set it ablaze. Whatever gap that stifled his confidence is gone, replaced with touches and brushes he willing gives now.

Waving goodbye to their feathered friend, Zelda takes a vacant seat by the fire, watching as Kass's silhouette flies towards the skyward village. She's about to mumble her thoughts out loud so the nosy stable residents can't hear her when Link leans in and asks the same question she was about to ask.

"You think he knows?"

She plays dumb just to hear him say it. "What do you mean?"

"You know," clearing his throat, he scratches the nape of his neck. "You and me. Our relationship has kinda been… enhanced…?"

"Right." Zelda draws out the word then pretends to suddenly be very interested in picking dirt out from under her fingernail. "Yeah he definitely knows."

With a laugh, Link nudges her shoulder and when their eyes meet, she laughs too.

"Did you um," he starts, but suddenly grows shy. There's a soft smile on his lips as he collects the right words. "Did you talk to him about me when we were apart?"

She blinks, trying to process his question correctly. For a knight so reticent and reserved, Link truly values how he's perceived to other people. He wasn't like this before the Calamity, when his personality was adjacent to a stone rather than a Hylian. He was the one that had to remind the Princess about her duty to this collapsing kingdom, that whatever her father, her friends, the citizens of Hyrule thought of her—none of it mattered even when she thought it did. He was her rock and now… she was his.

"I did," she answers honestly. "He knew something was up when I… couldn't stop glancing at Death Mountain. He said he catches himself doing the same thing when he's away from Amali for too long."

Link's expression softens, boyish features highlighted by the light of the cozy fire. "He probably predicted it when we met him the first time, at Rabia Plain."

She laughs. "Well, you were rather obvious then, too."

"I was not!"

"You definitely were! You wasted no time in pulling out that liquor and asking me to dance."

"So what? Friends can't dance together?" He's blushing and she absolutely adores it.

She shakes her head, then leans closer until she can feel his breath on her lips, says, "Friends don't dance the way you danced with me."

He's far too distracted to think of a clever retort to her own considering the short distance it would take to kiss her, so he takes advantage of the opportunity.

Soft and slow and incredibly indulgent, Zelda closes her eyes and breathes him in. Like summer rain that drizzles over the wild fields of Akkala, everything is at peace when he kisses her.

Swollen lips so gentle in the evening sun, when Link pulls away to whisper on her skin, he's thought of something clever to say. "Took you long enough to fall for me."

"What!?" She exclaims, getting defensive that his outlook on her is entirely wrong. "Don't think for a second that you were first. I liked you since the moment we—"

His brow raises and—oh no. She fell for it. He's placed her in a honey trap to confess how long she's wanted him and now she's the one blushing. The spell of silence wafts over them as Zelda's cheeks redden with every ticking second that he looks at her—quiet and calm and way too smug for his own good.

Link wins this round of playful banter, but she never has to wait very long for another opportunity to arise so she can challenge him. Now that she's catatonic in her fluster, Link resets by smacking his hands on his thighs, then gets up from his seat by the fire. "I think I'll make salmon meunière for us tonight."

"Sounds great, but…" she quickly checks the Sheikah slate's inventory. "We don't have any more salmon."

"I know," he looks down at her, "but there's some ponds in Rito village. You can watch me catch them like that first day we met. I'm sure that'll bring back some fond memories."

"Oh, shut up," she laughs unabashedly as she waves him away. "I can't believe I fell for a man that catches fish with his bare hands."

"Neither can I." Bending over her, Link plants another kiss on her lips, then starts jogging towards the village.

As his silhouette fades in the distance, Zelda shakes her head and laughs to herself, suddenly hyper aware of a certain feeling she's been trying to pinpoint since she escaped the castle. She had glimpses of this feeling as they renovated their home in Hateno by putting off adventuring for the sake of making it a comfortable place to live. Every day she had wildflowers in vases and baby chicks to care for with Link at her side, but it was always missing something. Now, she has sunsets and goodnight kisses, morning snoozes with cuddles that lead to chuckles and end with moaning. She has honesty and commitment, fulfillment in the form of feeling kisses on her neck and the way Link looks at her when she says she needs him closer.

She feels… whole.

It isn't long until the stable residents settle down for the evening. Some make their way under the tent to rent beds or order dinner, while others find their way to the cooking pot that Zelda's sitting at as she waits for Link to come back with fresh fish for their dinner. She sends a friendly nod to the old man that sits down beside her, mug in his wrinkled hand that she can smell the brandy in. Quickly after that, a young girl skips over to warm herself by the fire and a Rito guard who has trailed away from his lonely post for some type of conversation.

The Rito is leaning on his staff as he talks to the Hylian girl sitting across from Zelda. She really doesn't want to be a part of their conversation, but she can't help but listen.

"It was a Hylian couple that defeated the beast," the guard says, his soft red feathers catching in the gentle breeze. "Now we're able to soar in the skies again!"

"And I hear Vah Rudania was tamed in Goron city too!" Says the old man.

The girl with brown hair shifts a little in her seat, and Zelda can't tell if she's excited or nervous. She peeks up from shy eyes, then glances at the faces around her. "What do you think will happen once the final beast is tamed?"

The old man grunts. "Well, whoever've been taming the beasts should be able to answer that better than any of us," he points at himself, the Rito guard, then Zelda. "But my guess is that they'll have to prepare before they go anywhere near that castle, if that's their plan at all." He leans in towards the cooking pot, and lowers his voice. "Legends speak of a sword hidden away that can seal the darkness, but it can only be wielded by someone whom the Goddess deems worthy. When that day comes, who knows what will be unleashed onto Hyrule."

A settling silence, then the sheepish girl speaks up. "They wouldn't be taming the beasts if they didn't have an idea of what would happen at the castle… right?"

Zelda parts her lips to answer, but finds another voice comes out instead.

"Sure, but it's not Ganon that I'm worried about," the old man says. "It's the Princess."

Her jaw snaps shut.

"Why is that?" The Rito asks.

"Look, if that Hylian couple handled three out of four beasts already, then they can handle Ganon, but there are more complicated things in this world than malice and evil. There's hatred. Anger. Revenge." He glances around the cooking pot, eyeing them one by one. "Not only will Ganon be released, but the Princess will too and if she's been locked inside that castle for a century fighting a war alone while everyone else gets to live, she'll be seeking vengeance."

This time, the silence is stifling. So many emotions rise like bile in her throat; confusion, defense, shame, and guilt—she doesn't know what to say or what to do or if she's even processing what the old man has said correctly, until the Rito speaks up.

"What do you suppose will happen?"

The old man shifts in his seat. "I think she'll want control over this land just like her ancestors, make everyone bend the knee for her reign. There hasn't been a central monarchy in a hundred years, so I don't expect many will want to follow her orders. I know I won't." He shakes his head. "No. See, when that happens, I predict another war, but this time it won't be the Princess against Ganon. It'll be us."

"Hey, are you okay?"

She glances up—she hadn't even noticed him. Link is back, trousers drenched from his knees down to his boots and there's two twitching salmon in his hand as he checks in on her.

"Oh, me? I'm fine," she says, compensating with a note of innocence in her tone for some odd reason, but she turtles into her tunic so she can try to be as small as possible.

Ever-watchful, Link glances around the circle to try and assess what he's missed. He knows her well enough not to poke and prod her and if it was truly something he needed to concern himself with, she'd let him know as soon as possible. When that doesn't happen, he shrugs and sits beside her by the fire.

With all the ways she's been hiding things from him, Zelda has gotten good at saving face. She smiles when he looks at her, sends him a soft laugh as he teases and tells her she's in charge of dessert, but it's all forced. Her grin is crooked and her laugh is off because she can't stop thinking about how there are people living in Hyrule that are afraid of her. They think she's malicious, infected with the evil she sacrificed her body and soul to contain, believing that she'll rage and rampant the second that she's free.

As they wrap up for the evening, Zelda takes another glance at the old man and feels pity. She's older than him, stuck in one place for as long as he's been alive, and she finds herself unable to blame him for being so weary of her. Generations of Hylians have never known what it feels like to have the security that her family's reign tried to give to Hyrule, and look where it got her. There's no trust left… she wasted too much time.

Zelda's still lost in her thoughts when they travel to the Shada Naw shrine behind Selmie's cabin. She's the first to skip down the steps of the platform and walk through the snow, Link's footsteps crunching just behind her and as they fade to silence, she barely notices—

—until something light and cold hits her back, exploding into powdery snow.

"Hey!" She turns around on instinct, completely startled out of her spiraling thoughts, but this is her biggest mistake as another snowball comes flying through the air straight at her face and hits her right in the jaw.

"Oh my gods." His voice is muffled by his hands, but Zelda knows just behind those fingerless gloves, he's trying to hold in a laugh. "I'm so sorry."

She deadpans. "I cannot believe you."

"I didn't think you'd turn around!"

Self-loathing thoughts instantly gone, replaced in the form of reddened cheeks and pitching snowballs, determination curved in Zelda's smile and set in her eyes as she bends down, and prepares for war.

No snowball has ever been thrown in the history of Hyrule without immediately starting chaos.

Snow flies through the air at ridiculous speeds and heights, missing each other completely or hitting one another in the arms or legs. Their laughter is loud as it echoes atop the mountain, yelps escaping their mouths as they shield their faces with shoulders or hands just before snow comes barreling towards them. She pitches a snowball right in the kisser, he hits her in the shoulder as she dodges an attack and with their laughter rising, their bodies fall when Link charges at her with a glove full of snow and she pleads,

"No, don't!"

Her back hits the soft ground with a thud and she's choking on chuckles that mix with Link's own, gently falling with the snowflakes that land on her face. The Hero and Princess have battled before, against each other in arguments and tedious bickering, water fights swimming in lakes and a mud fight once on the way to Zora's Domain when he 'accidentally' flicked some on her cheek—so this only added to their never-ending pile. When he falls on her, the powdery snow caught in his hair drops on her face in the form of gentle ice kisses before they melt and blend with her freckles. He's smiling down at her and laughing, wrapping a hand around her waist as he brushes some hair away from her eyes.

He waits for their laughter to fade before he speaks. "Truce?"

She chuckles. "Truce. I'm assuming you missed snowball training when you were in the Knights' Garrison?"

"I think you might be right, I should have defeated you."

She hums. "Maybe next time."

There's a quiet spell that casts over them, sprinkled where they lay within the thick Hebra snow, and Zelda can't stop smiling. Her eyes dance around his face, admiring everything from the stubble on his jaw to the scar on his nose, how his earrings jingle and his brows are all bushy and when her eyes meet his, Zelda discovers he's been admiring her, too.

"I'm really happy, Zel," he says, voice as soft as snowfall.

A heartbeat and she's melting. Written in his look is a poem of honesty, a vulnerability read in his eyes and in his smile that what he truly means to say is that he's happy because she's with him.

As easily as dragons who soar through the skies, she answers him. "Me too, Link."

He moves with intent after that. Fingertips grazing her chilly skin as he cups her cheek in his hand, Link tilts his head and lowers down to kiss her. It's slow and it's perfect, stolen in the snow like moments that get unnoticed and she meets his lips so easily. It's no wonder he's the Chosen Hero, the one who Hylia deems so worthy because the entire world is at peace when he kisses her. There's no shame, there's no guilt, no Princess or Hero or neglected kingdom. All there is is peace, and Link, and Zel.


They returned to Hateno for a month, and it felt like a honeymoon.

With only one more beast to go, they figured a little relaxation would benefit them right now—especially considering Link has been on his own for two months and during that time, Zel was never able to come home to check in on things since she didn't have the Sheikah slate. While they were away, the horses would be fine at Rito Stable though they'd have to come back to get them before they venture south towards Gerudo desert. In order to keep tabs on Vah Naboris, they received daily updates from Teba who relayed what his scouts had told him.

It was calm and it was peaceful as they made up for lost time.

Lost time that they could've been fucking in every corner of their home, time spent sharing a bed yet never cuddling in it, visiting with their neighbors and never addressing each other as their significant other. They made up for all of it.

Early on in their vacation, Link wanted to surprise her with something he hadn't been able to get out of his head since their stay in Kakariko. He knew there were certain outfits she appreciated over others; like his tight tan trousers compared to say his clunky flamebreaker pants. There was an outfit he didn't wear very often lest he was sneaking up on monster camps in the middle of the night or prey out in the field, but he knew she liked it. Ever since the day he tried it on and she stared at him like that, he always wondered how far her liking went; if particular outfits turned her on.

When he decided to find out, he was rather embarrassed that the thought had even crossed his mind to tempt her like this, but it didn't last very long. The moment she walked through the door and saw him inconspicuously leaning against the handrail of the staircase picking at his nail, dressed from head to toe in his stealth set, it was over. She dragged him upstairs and pinned him on the bed, pulled his cock out and rode him until her head fell back and she was keening.

He never even had time to flip down his stealth mask.

A few days after that, she got him back. When he returned home from helping Medda in the fields, Zel was standing in the middle of their kitchen, waiting for him in nothing but her white dress she had worn to the Fire Festival. Her hair was brushed and styled the same way she had done that night so many months ago—soft and elegant with a braid that adorned her head like a crown. The only thing she was missing, he'd soon find out, was her underwear.

He didn't mind, at all.

As quickly as she pounced on him only a few days prior, Link gave into the same carnal desires. He once had imagined lifting her in his arms and fucking her against the wall, letting their sounds and sighs mingle with the rattling of picture frames, and she had just given him the perfect opportunity to make this fantasy come true. He picked her up and carried her upstairs as her legs wrapped around his waist and she sucked on his neck, and as he fucked her against the wall with her weight held in his arms, he came so quick and so hard that he had to lay on the floor like a starfish and catch his breath for a while.

She seemed utterly too amused.

But there were also moments and entire days that didn't consist of any sex. Days where they'd work in the garden or patch the roof, strenuous hours that resulted in tired evenings where all they did was watch the sunset and climb into bed together. There were slow mornings with cuddles and ruffled bed sheets, breakfast that led straight to lunch because all they were doing was talking, and visits to the lab that had Link bored and Zel fixated. Whenever she becomes so passionate with her work like that, Link never has the heart to take her away from it simply because he craves her attention. Now with their relationship in full bloom, Link has the promise of later. Of tomorrow. That when her focus falls elsewhere, he knows it'll always return back to him.

One day, she surprised him with a printed photograph, and he cried.

Link prided himself on his photo-taking skills, considering he was the first photographer in Hyrule. Since they've been gone for so long, Purah began designing her own pad like the Sheikah slate and apparently it had helped Zel find a way to print them onto glossy parchment—he didn't really know. She was trying to explain it to him, but he was too distracted by the picture in his hands, no longer digital but physical, and he loved it.

It was the picture he'd taken at Hebra, where they stood in front of the ice cave leviathan bones. Eyes glossed over with the sentiment of receiving a precious gift, he glanced up at her. "Can you print more, or is this the only one?"

She laughed, warm and loving. "We can print as many as you want."

When he kissed her, he made sure not to smudge his fingerprints all over the picture.

Things were different, that was an unwavering fact. There's no more pining, no more secrets between them, because they share everything together now. Thoughts turn into conversations, feelings are shared when the other says something that hurts, and there's no more doubt. He knows now that she can never get enough of his kisses, that pleasuring her is one thing he's actually good at, and she's always at her happiest when she sees him happy.

If only she would open up to him.

She keeps things from him, and that's okay—he's fine with it. But he can tell it eats at her. Having his entire memory erased, Link doesn't know what it feels like to have traumatic memories, to stifle them down deep or have them haunt him because the ones he'd been able to remember, she was always right beside him ready to listen. She's helped him talk through it and if he's being honest, he doesn't think he would've been able to cope without her, he just wishes he could've been there during the times Zel may have needed him the most.

Except he's here now, and he's not going anywhere. Little by little, she has opened up to him and when she's ready to share the larger parts of her life that he doesn't know about yet, he hopes he can handle it as gracefully as she handled him.

» . «

Although they've both decided this is their last day in Hateno, they're not ready to leave.

They've spent the morning cleaning up the house, organizing what stays here or what goes in the Sheikah slate to take with them back to Hebra. Their plan is to say their goodbyes to friends and neighbors, wash up in their own tub, then travel back to Selmie's cabin to spend one last night there before they were to leave the Tabantha region altogether, and travel south to Gerudo. Vah Naboris has been relatively calm, lost in its own sandstorm amidst the desert, but the Rito scouts have confirmed it's getting closer to the city and it's apparent they want to defeat the beast before that happens.

So with their chores mostly done and their neighbors kind farewells, they head home, bathe, and Link follows her up to the loft to change.

But the arch in her back sends shivers down his spine.

Draping herself on their bed like a towel, she smoothes her palms over the fresh clean sheets until she's laying flat on her stomach, wet skin dampening the soft linen from the bath they took together in their clawfoot tub. She stretches out in the way she knows is hypnotizing; seducing him to abandon those mundane tasks he said he was going to do by lifting her ass off the bed just slightly—just enough to steal his second glance and capture it. His gaze drags all along her bare body; from the curve of her backside, to the scars on her toned shoulders, to the uneven tan she has on her arms and up to that smile turned impish and irresistible, beckoning for his attention, no—demanding it.

"Stop that," Link smiles back, trying to hold onto the little restraint he has left and losing. "You're making it hard—I mean difficult—to ignore you."

Her eyes dart down to his groin to see for herself. He's already growing hard again, blatantly obvious beneath the towel wrapped around his waist, and she smirks at him. Lazy and graceful and utterly suggestive, Zel places her chin in her palm, then bends at the knees for her ankles to hover in the air above her backside.

"Then don't," she says.

Quickly, he weighs the options. They could get dressed and return to Hebra where he knows it's a high possibility they'll be having sex in the cabin again, or they could have sex now and… there's still a high possibility they'll be doing it again in Hebra.

Slowly, he unwraps the towel from his waist, watching her sly smile grow into something more greedy and when he touches himself, she watches—the world and their to-do list fading away quicker than it takes for his towel to drop to the floor. He walks over to the bed and she doesn't move, only turns her head over her shoulder when he straddles her legs and Link hums, admiring the perfect curve of her backside with his palms and fingers. His erection lays lightly between her ass cheeks but he doesn't make the notion that he wants to fuck her straight away. No, he takes his time by massaging her back, leaving kisses on her shoulders that relax her and drive her crazy, makes her sigh and has her squirming, all at the same time.

When he eventually slides inside her, he doesn't pull out until they're both breathless, and completely satisfied.

That same energy is taken with them back to Hebra.

It's a slow evening, nestled within their cozy cabin atop the mountains. They've already fucked a second time—on the floor by the fireplace—but he's not there now. He's in their shared bed, stirring from the nap he needed because she's worn him out in the best possible way.

There's a smile on his face when he comes to, and opens his eyes.

"Morning, sleepy head."

It isn't morning, but he says it back to her anyway as he stretches his legs over the bed sheets. He finds her sitting in the chair that she's dragged closer to the fire so she can mend the tears in his climbing gear by firelight, but that isn't what makes Link's smile grow larger. A few strands of golden hair fall in her vision as she glances up at him without a word, and continues her tailoring of his shirt. Her legs are bare, one tucked underneath her as she works, and she's wearing nothing but his Champion's tunic.

It's undoubtedly the sweetest thing he's ever seen.

And then he blinks once and he sees it; a new image of her. She's several years older and sitting by their hearth in Hateno, tending to his clothes in much the same way she is now, but it's different. There's a gold band on her ring finger that he's put there himself. Her breasts are swollen and her belly strains against his tunic and instead of clutching her stomach in pain that he's seen her do before, she's rubbing it to soothe and comfort. Her hips are even wider than usual, Zel's body preparing to bring new life into Hyrule. A new life they made together.

The image disappears from his eyes but not in his mind, and now the thought has taken him hostage, has planted roots that can never be uprooted. With a soft sigh, he pats the space right next to him.

"Come here," he says and she does.

When she climbs onto the bed with him, Link finds her lips so easily. He'll never get over the breath she takes every time their lips meet, the way she melts into him. It's almost like he's able to pry all her layers away, ridding her of all the worries and sorrow she carries with her everywhere she goes, and all that's left is him.

"You've distracted me from my work. Again." She says pointedly, words muffled against his mouth.

"Do you want me to stop?" He quips and pulls a little away, but Zel shakes her head.

"Not when you kiss me like that."

He smiles. "How do I kiss you?"

A moment's pause for Zel to try and describe it, then she answers him. "You kiss me as if you'll forget me. That every kiss might be our last."

Struck through the heart, he swallows down the emotions rising in his throat. Every day, he fears that he might wake up and she's not there, that it all wasn't real or that he can't remember and as far back as their first night shared under a leaky wooden roof off the side of a ruined bridge, he wakes up hoping she'll be there sleeping right beside him.

"Zel?"

Allowing him to get lost in his memories, Zel had closed her eyes a while ago, but at the sound of his voice, she opens them again.

"What do you think you'd be doing now if we never met at Proxim Bridge?" He asks.

Green eyes dance gracefully across his features, watching and reading, observing like she always does. Whenever she speaks, she does it with meaning, and her words are uttered with honesty when she answers him.

"Trying to find you."

On instinct, Link takes a sharp inhale through his nose so he can hold this feeling in, and bask in it. Like a breath of fresh air, it captivates him—this simplicity. They've never really spoken too much about destiny or fate, what the goddesses have written for them in the stars—they've only spoken about what their roles are. Perhaps that's the same thing or maybe it isn't, but the way she answers him now it's almost as if she wouldn't have a purpose in all of Hyrule if she hadn't found him.

Eyes locked on each other's, a measly syllable escapes him. "I—"

But he can't do it, he can't bring himself to say it. Three words of promises and he can only get out the first because he's too afraid. What if she doesn't say it back? She's so sure of everything, a lie would never leave her lips by telling him something she didn't mean, so if she doesn't love him the way he's fallen for her, it would crush him.

And that scares him.

Instead, he smiles in her silent patience, leans in, and kisses her again.

» . «

"I'm going to miss these hardwood floors."

"It's okay Link, I understand" she says gently, though there's the same hint of sarcasm laced in her tone as his. "After all, we've spent enough time on them."

"Yeah, exactly," he smiles up at her, smoothing his cold hands over her bare thighs and she shivers.

They woke up a little early to do this, knowing they were going to leave the cabin and not come back for an indefinite amount of time. Once they travel to Rito village, they'll be on horseback for the remainder of the day—possibly for the next few days—and neither of them are sure when their next private moment might be.

So they made the most of it on the cabin's hardwood floors. For old times sake.

Zel laughs as she tries to catch her breath, raking a hand through her disheveled hair. As much as he loves it when she's soft and radiating with femininity in her white dress and braided hair, Link also loves it when she's sweaty and her hair's messy and she rides him hard into the floor, like she had just done.

She speaks again when she climbs off him. "Don't forget you initiated this."

"What!" He gasps, "I would never."

"We would be in the village by now if you hadn't hidden my snowquill tunic."

"Okay, in my defense, you didn't seem too eager to try and find it."

Slipping her underwear back up her hips, Zel looks over her shoulder at him still lying on the floor. Her lips are scrunched together like a knot and he knows that means he caught her in a guilty pleasure.

"It's under the bed, isn't it?"

He darts his gaze over to the bed, then back at her. "No."

With a mildly annoyed sigh, she walks over to the bed frame, then bends down and finds it immediately. He flashes her a cheeky grin, and she can't help but laugh.

"Alright Chosen Hero, we have to focus now. There's work to do."

Rolling his eyes, Link moves to sit up on the floor and migrate over to the bed so he can get dressed. Zel knows he doesn't like it when she calls him that—it never fails to make reality come crashing down on his leisure time. She's getting ready faster than he is albeit he's dawdling and dragging his feet when he knows he really shouldn't be. It's just… this past month has been nothing but sweet intemperance, building up his and Zel's relationship to what it is now and he's trying to hold onto this indulgence for as long as possible.

When they're fully dressed and their gear is packed away except the odds and ends they'll carry with them on their backs and in their travel bags, Zel tells him she's going to use the outhouse before they leave, and she'll be right back.

"Oh, can you double check that I put our extra healing elixir in my travel bag? It's on the desk." She points even though she doesn't need to, but Link smiles and nods anyways.

"You got it, boss." He salutes and now it's her turn to roll her eyes.

As she leaves the cabin, Link gradually gets up from his seat on the bed and saunters over to the desk. He knows it's in here—she almost never forgets things—so there really isn't any reason for him to check. It's only that she asked him to, so he will.

It's a black leather bag, worn by months of constant use. The color has faded in certain places, but it's not like Zel to care too much about appearances. He empties the entire thing out on the desk as several of Zel's items fall to the floor in his carelessness, but the elixir she had asked him to check for rolls across the desk surface like he knew it would.

"I knew it was there," he says out loud to no one, then bends down and begins picking up her stuff.

And then he stops.

Zel's private journal has fallen open, revealing the first page of where she began her writing. He's never been nosy in what she writes about, would never ever consider asking, but the first line catches his eyes and it makes his heart stop.

Afraid that he might fall over, Link cautiously rises back to standing and places the journal on the desk. He clutches it for support as he reads.

It feels wrong to lie to him every day. For him to not call me by my real name and to not acknowledge me the way I once was, but like the seasons, we change and adapt and it suddenly doesn't feel so wrong anymore. Whereas once I felt like an imposter in my own skin, it's now just another day as Azella. I've grown used to a new normal, and so has he.

Lies. Imposter. Azella. He keeps reading.

Yet, there is a part of me still lingering that wants to tell him everything. To confess what I've been keeping from him, but then the other half, this new half, hopes he will never find out the truth and I can't comprehend which side has my heart and which one is right. I hope they're the same.

His peripheral vision blackens around the edges, emotions swallowing him whole to the point it almost blinds him. She's been lying to him, forging stories of who she is, and for what? So she can use him? To get him to do anything she wants him to do and oh gods what if this is all a ploy to trap the Chosen Hero, and kill him.

No, it can't be true. It isn't true. But then why has she hidden this from him? Why has she written it down so only she'd be able to see it? This is private information, there's no way that this is the lie—the journal he's reading from—and that what he's been feeling for her for months is the truth.

"Link, what are you…?" He hears the breath catch in her throat from across the cabin.

That breath… it revealed everything to him. That she knew she held secrets that he was never meant to find. No, worse than secrets. Lies.

"Your name's not Azella." It isn't a question.

"You really shouldn't have opened—"

"Just tell me. Who are you?" He still hasn't turned to look at her and his words are quiet. Weak. Entirely brittle. His hands clench into fist at his sides and she's silent for several seconds, so long that the air becomes thick between them and it's almost enough to make him gag.

"I can't. I—I'm not allowed—"

That's when he snaps.

Like a bolt of lightning, Link flashes across the cabin to the door. He's so quick, she doesn't even see him pull her own skinning knife from her belt but she can definitely feel the cool strip of the blade against her throat. He has her pressed hard against the cabin wall, his face so close to hers that he should be able to feel her breathing, but she's not. She's holding her breath.

"Tell me."

"Link, please."

"Just. Tell. Me." His eyes fog with anger, pressing the blade even further and she winces.

He smells it before he sees it; the iron scent flaring in his nose, ripening the rage that's clouding his judgment. He's just barely grazed her but the action draws blood, crimson trail appearing on her neck like a permanent stain, hot and bleeding, creating an unfillable trench between them.

He's hurt. He's so hurt, but now so is she.

Their eyes meet and the fog instantly clears from his vision. He sees nothing but fear reflecting in her golden green eyes—a frightened bird in the claws of a wild animal. She won't fight him. Oh gods, he's not thinking rationally. He could kill her.

He steps back, releasing her from his threatening grip and drops the knife in his movement, letting it clatter loudly against the wood floor. A gasp for needed air, she hyperventilates, trying to regain some kind of composure, but Link's eyes are wild as he claws his hands in his hair, desperately trying to figure out what the hell to do here. His world is caving in on itself, deception, the truth, lieslieslies, all of it wasn't real but now it is with a knife wound on her throat and he doesn't want to apologize for it. He shouldn't have to. His actions are justified in his broken mind, broken by a hundred years and all the false promises that came afterwards.

She deserves a scar for the mark she left on him.

Link faces her but doesn't meet her eyes… because he can't anymore. He's not even sure if she's watching, but he signs the words since they're caught in his throat and he can't speak. "How could you do this to me? For so long?"

She forces Link to watch her, to see her trembling fist move across her chest. She's signing. "I'm sorry."

But he's already shaking his head, signing back. "Not good enough."

"My birth name," She says, breathing heavily, voice breaking. "I wanted to tell you so many times, I almost did over and over again, but I—I couldn't—I can't, and it doesn't matter anymore… All I am is Zel now. I'm not anyone else."

"What? What does that even mean, you can't tell me? You—" his breath catches, lodging deep in his throat at a sudden fear, a new realization, and his words drop. "It wasn't a coincidence you were at Proxim Bridge, was it? You were waiting for me. You knew I'd come."

She was trying to find him.

She doesn't say anything, but the silence is deafening, making her answer perfectly clear. None of this was arbitrary, none of it beautifully random. It was all planned and calculated from the very start.

Finally, she speaks, but her voice is no louder than a whisper. "It's me, Link. Don't you see me?"

But he refuses to meet her eyes, it's too painful. If he did look in that moment, maybe he'd finally be able to see her for who she truly is, for what he can't remember, but he isn't ready to know. He isn't ready to say goodbye to who she was with him. Perhaps he never will be.

Eyes cast at the floor between them, he shakes his head weakly and tries to swallow. "All this time, I should've known you'd be just another puzzle for me to solve. Just another challenge that I had to face. Gods, I'm such an idiot—to think you were something solid in my life. The only thing I could remember from the start. I should have fucking known this was too easy, too… normal."

"Link, no, please. That isn't true. What we have—"

"I can't trust anything that comes out of your mouth!" He's fuming again and he's suddenly afraid for her safety, afraid of what he might do since he's never been this angry before, at least not from what he can remember. "I can't—I can't be here right now." He grabs for his shield that's lying next to the door, and storms out into the morning snowfall.

"Link, please don't leave!" She's pleading and scrambling out the door behind him, following his footsteps. The sun blinds them as they both step out into the snow, and she's trying to keep up with him. "I've seen you put trust in others so—so blindly, why can't you do the same for me?"

"Because I didn't fuck them!" He turns around so fast, she's startled at his volume and crass reasoning. How dare she challenge his reason to be angry. He's put his hands all over her, she all over him. Gods, he had envisioned an entire life together and Link doesn't even know her name.

Her face shatters by his hurtful words, and her lip trembles before the words come out. "You… you don't mean that." Feeble. Docile. She's not trying to argue, the sincerity in her words are so blatant and utterly present, but he can no longer believe any of it.

At the bottom of his heart, Link knows he doesn't mean it… but he's distraught. Torn open and ripped apart.

"Link, please just let me explain—I'll explain everything. I had no choice in any of this. I couldn't—it wasn't just for your health and safety, but for my own. I have to live under an alias because Hylia, the Goddess, she—she told me herself—" but he's no longer listening.

He isn't sure where he's heading, he just knows he can't stay here any longer and listen to her lies. He hears her follow behind him, can hear her choking out words in between her sobs—words that mention a fractured bloodline, the pain of being torn apart, dangers of traveling with her birth name—but he can't comprehend any of it. His heart is pounding too loud to focus on much else, but he just knows there's no way he can get rid of her. She'd follow him across the entirety of Hyrule as long as he was in her sight. That was her mission, he realizes. To follow me.

Everything makes so much sense now. The way she nudged her way into his life, the way she didn't even give him a choice. Yelling at him in Kakariko about finding her role in all of this, even when she must've known what to do all along. She manipulated him, seduced him, always seemed to know more than what she was letting on.

Snatching the Sheikah slate from his belt, Link accesses the map of Hyrule, zooming in on the farthest place he can think of, and her words trail away. There's a silence that encroaches the air before she starts pleading again, repeating just one word over and over that has his finger hovering over the button, hesitating. Her footsteps are thumping in the snow behind him, beating to the rhythm of her desperation.

Nonononono.

He presses the travel button and she screams.

"Link!"

The last thing he sees is her, both knees fallen in the snow, reaching out to him with one hand as the other clutches at her heart like it's the only way to stop it from shattering. He's never seen someone look so broken, or perhaps maybe he had in another life—that very same face revealing a broken soul a century ago in the rain and chaos and fire, but he doesn't remember any of that and her beautiful green eyes are shimmering with tears and his name is on her lips, pleading for him to stay.

Maybe she does love me too, he thinks, but it was too late.

He was gone.