OKAY my WIP's have been "IP" forever I apologize!

I had two lovely requests from two lovely readers, NTDOFAnonymous and EmotionalShadow, and somehow I sorta made the ideas fit into one? Thank you guys! Your requests have inspired me a lot so I have other stories in the woodwork but I hope you enjoy this one! It takes place about eight years after BMTR

Thank you again! Feel free to leave requests :)

It was his greatest battle yet. His opponent was a fierce competitor: his blue eyes sharp like a hawk's; his sword posed to strike. Sweat dribbled down his temple from the exertion - and maybe even from intimidation - but he was still putting up a good fight.

Fortunately for Link, he had a tad more experience.

Light on his feet, Sol capered forward and swung his wooden sword above his head, striking down on his father. Link's lips twitched as he met his waster, their swords clunking off one another and resounding throughout the otherwise empty training yard.

He could see his son's improvement already, especially in the way that he held his weapon. Though the wasters weren't quite as heavy as a steel blade, they still had a bit of weight to them and it typically took awhile before the pages were able to keep them steady and upright. Already, Sol was holding it as if it were an extension of his arm, just as Link did when he was young.

Sol had been training with Eagus for the past year or so, but he was only just a page. He was eager to learn the ways of the sword at a faster pace. To his defense, he was a fast learner and Link easily recognized the itch to improve: it was something he'd experienced after his initial journey in becoming a hero.

And so, for the last couple of weeks, before dawn could rise each morning, they'd run off to the training yard together to practice a bit of swordplay. It'd started off as some basic training: how to properly hold a blade and how to stand, swing and so forth. But once Link saw his potential, he slowly but surely began to impart some of his more secret techniques, and Sol loved every minute of it.

With a sure step forward, the brunet stabbed his sword at his opponent, but his father was quicker. Link caught his wrist, spun on his heel, and slipped his blade right below his son's chin. Sol scowled.

"That was a risky move," Link said before dropping his tip to the ground and stepping back. "Don't let your guard down."

"I almost had you!"

"You were good, but don't doubt your opponent. You don't know what they have up their sleeve. Again." Their blades met in a cordial tap, a common practice between them - one of the many practices Link had inherited from the Hero's Shade. Then, Sol advanced, meeting his father's waster with another bout of attacks.

Their bodies moved so similarly that even an unfamiliar observer could tell they're related. Though he took on his mother's physical traits, it was at times like these that he was a mirror image of his father. They shared the same determination and energy, all driven by a hunger that some might call wild.

Frustrated, he thrust his sword in an arc, but the hero of Hyrule dove into a roll, spinning behind his unsuspecting opponent, and jabbed him from behind. By the light pressure of the blade's tip at the back of his neck, Sol knew he'd been bested.

"Okay, okay, I get it," he grumbled as he spun to face his father once more. "'Don't let your guard down.'" Amused, Link nodded with a smile. "Will you teach me that move?"

"Of course," he said, picking up his son's sword and placing the hilt back in his hand. "It's called the back slice. All you have to do is tuck, roll, and slice. Got it?"

"'Tuck, roll, and slice,'" he repeated to himself before nodding to his father. "Got it."

They slid into position once more, tapping their swords between them before they begun. Cast by the amber light of the torches, their shadows danced on the walls like ancient cave paintings. It was a short while before Sol saw his opening. But when the young prince ducked forward to somersault, he lost his footing and stumbled to the ground with a grunt.

Link hastened to his side, helped him sit up and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. It's a bit tricky and it'll take some practice, but you'll get it." He flashed him a reassuring smile. "You're doing great."

From the outer edges of the yard, a pair of pale blue eyes watched the scene unfold. The early morning was chilly, but the sight lit a fire in her chest.

"I agree," the queen chimed in, and the two turned to look at her with surprised – and nearly identical - looks on their faces. From the clatter of their wooden swords, they couldn't hear her faint footsteps approach. "You were wonderful, Sol."

A light blush dusted over Sol's fair cheeks. "Thanks, mama," he said, scratching the back of his head, a habit he'd undoubtedly picked up from his father.

"Zelda, you're up." She held a fibre cloak tight around her chest, but he could see from the hem of her skirts that she was already dressed for the day. "Is it time for work already?"

"Not nearly," she said, slowly approaching the centre of the yard. "I was just curious as to where my husband and son were sneaking off to every morning."

Link winced. "You noticed?"

"You thought I wouldn't?" she countered with a raise of her brow. Then, she stepped toward her son and placed a hand on his soft cheek. "You performed beautifully, Sol. But take your time. The more you practice, the better you'll be."

"I want to be as good as papa!"

Her smile stretched, little lines creasing at the corners of her eyes, and she momentarily looked up at her husband. "Your father became as skilled as he is from years of trials and hardships. But I'm sure that with him as your teacher, you'll become just as skilled in time."

"Even better," Link added.

Sol flashed a toothy smile. "Really?"

"Really."

"But you'll also need to grow big and strong, which means eating and sleeping healthy." She folded her hands as she straightened up. "Now go clean up for breakfast. It should be served shortly."

Sol sighed and met his father's eyes, silently pleading to stay and practice. But by the look of his apologetic smile, he knew it was in vain. "Sorry, bud, but your mama's right." With his spare hand, Link lovingly ruffled up his son's dark hair. "That's all for today."

"Fine," he said, drawing out the word. "But I'll get it down tomorrow!"

"I'm sure you will." Once the young prince ran off, Link met Zelda's expectant glare and immediately recognized the look. With her arms now folded across her chest and an eyebrow raised in reproach, he knew he was in trouble. But before she could get a word in edgewise, he quickly said, "I'm sorry. I know I should've told you."

"Yes, you should've. I thought we agreed that Sol would train with the other pages. I trained under Eagus's tutelage myself."

"We did. And he still is!" he agreed. "But he's been wanting to practice, so we tried it out and he loved it. And he's doing so well."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," he said. "I just... it made him happy and I was scared if you didn't approve, then I'd have to let him down." After a pause, he grimaced, scratched the back of his neck, and dropped his head to a side. "But I know that's not fair to you."

With a sigh, Zelda dropped her arms to her sides and stepped forward. "I'm not upset, Link. If I truly was, I would've said something the moment I first noticed the two of you sneaking off," she admitted. Then, guiding his face forward with two fingers, she met his eyes again. "But you must tell me these things. I want to know everything about our children, just as you do."

"I know. I really am sorry. It won't happen again."

"I know. Otherwise, I will surely be angry."

His brow twitched, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Goddess forbid."

Her laugh relieved him the slightest, and now that he was sure she wouldn't try to make good use of all the weaponry in arms reach, he turned away and started to clear up the space. After all, the knights were bound to start filing in at any moment. He hung the swords onto their hooks by the wing of their hilts, and they rocked idly before settling into place.

"How'd you know where to find us?"

"I know you," she said. "And I know you wouldn't give up a chance to practice. Nor to spend time with our children."

"Are the little ones up already?"

"Not yet. Otherwise, I'm sure you'd be training them too."

He smiled, flustered, and shook his head as he offered her his arm. "They're too young. But one day."

Linking her arm with her husbands, she nodded thoughtfully and agreed, "One day."