Chapter 6

It had to be, of course. It had to be the same man; he had changed, though, and in more ways than just his physical appearance. It was plainly evident as he knelt there, illuminated by the glittering chandeliers dangling overhead. Even here in Akkala, even on Midwinter Eve, when sunlight scarcely passed through the tall, stained-glass windows reaching high to the painted ceiling above them. And the man was gazing at his princess—of whom sat high above them on her seat of power—with a look compounded equally of fierce determination and heroism. Kneeling beside him was his brother-in-arms and fellow knight, Sir Hoz, who remained just as still.

Behind Link, Princess Zelda of Hyrule said measuredly, with her stately voice, "Your return, Sir Gralens and Sir Hoz, is most joyful to see. Indeed, I have heard much talk of your gallantry. But now, I wish to hear of it with your own voices."

Link heard this without his eyes straying from Sir Gralens, who had stayed quiet, kneeling upon the crimson-red carpet leading to the steps toward the throne. He was clad in battle-worn plate mail; in leathers, and he, too, wore a sword, dangling along his hip with his left hand clasped over its hilt. Tucked underneath his armpit was a red-plumed helm. Link saw him avert his eyes, then, finding a strong interest in the floor beneath him.

Sir Gralens said, without raising his head, "I bid Your Highness great tidings. For the loathsome traitor, Master Kohga of the Yiga Clan, evades capture no longer."

"This is joyous news," said the Princess of Hyrule, as she rose from her throne. Her voice was high, almost musical to his ears. He felt himself wanting to smile, hearing it. "You have done your country a great service," she continued, taking careful steps down from the stairs; "and tonight, all the peoples of Hyrule and its sister realms shall sup to the memory of your most distinguished deeds."

"Your Highness honours us with such words," said Sir Hoz.

Smiling sincerely, Zelda took a large scroll from the servant next to her. Behind her, the golden crest of the Hyrulean Royal Family loomed large over all else. Unfurling it and taking a deep breath, she read aloud, saying, "For your most distinguished services in subjugating the rebel forces of the Yiga Clan, and for summarily capturing their leader, Master Kohga, I appoint you both, Knight of the Royal Guard. And Sir Gralens, for your conspicuous courage during the Battle of Karusa Valley, are also hereby appointed Castellan of Akkala Citadel Keep. I have placed all castle garrisons under your command. Given out at our court, New-Kingdom Year 106, the twenty-third moon of the winter solstice. Written by my own hand, Zelda, Princess of Hyrule."

With her voice drifting away came an encompassing silence. Then, there arose a thunderous roar from the many lines of soldiers and knights bordering both sides of the great hall. Link, turning his head slightly, saw Zelda rolling the proclamation back up, handing it off, and then stepping closer to the two dignitaries of the ceremony. Once she stood firmly in front of the two, she gestured for them to stand. Sir Gralens rose without haste; so too, on the other side of him, did Sir Hoz. Zelda looked them over then, standing tall with her shoulders back and hands wound tightly in front of her. Link did notice—there on the princess's soft expression—something hidden beneath her smile.

"Where is the betrayer now?" Zelda said to them, keeping her voice relaxed, as not to reveal her truest feelings. "Tell me, sirs. Why have you not, in his infinite shame, brought him before me to face the inevitability of our judgement?"

Sir Gralens favoured her with a nod of recognition. "We did not think to tarnish these hallowed halls with his presence, your highness. He rots now in the darkest of dungeons beneath the keep."

Zelda opened her mouth, and then closed it without replying. Link glanced at her then, seeing something interesting in her sharp eyes. With his gloved left hand on the small of his back, he quarter turned to the left, and then took a couple steps toward them.

"Very well done," said Princess Zelda of Hyrule, softly so the many retainers about the hall could not hear. "I will go and visit him myself at a later time. For now, let us rejoice wholly in your greatest triumphs. Come, sirs. I entreat you to partake in this feast held in your high honour."

Link saw the two knights bow their heads, and then turn in an about face to everyone around the hall. Looking at each other with a brief glimpse, they drew their swords, pointing them to the ceiling in celebration.

"This hour marks the beginning of a new age!" Sir Gralens exclaimed, deep voice booming.

A hundred swords pointed toward the fresco of the Goddess upon the ceiling. Following this was another round of cheer reverberating through the expanse of the great hall. Link, however, did not join them in their much-earned celebration. Instead, he took his spot next to Princess Zelda's side, as the many dignitaries and guests walked in an orderly line to take their own place on the long tables. And upon them was a steaming, lavish banquet, prepared by the head steward himself. There were drink and wine, fresh breads, many kinds of fruits, and even several seared cows. He could count three-dozen crispy cuccos on his table alone. The scent of it permeated the air, drawing everyone quickly to their seats. In the distance, he could see Tulin and King Sidon, who had expressed interest in attending the festivities. Gerudo Chief Riju and Yunobo of the Gorons—absent from the feast—had offered apologies in their stead, having other matters to attend to. Link even caught a glimpse of Chief Architect Hudson on the opposite side of the table, sharing a drink with his wife, Rhondson.

Link felt an elbow nudge him in the side. He turned to glance at Zelda, seeing her smiling mischievously at him. She wore a regal gown of the deepest blues, trimmed gold and with her stunning bejewelled crown resting upon her head to match its strengths. And beneath the crown, he saw her thick, golden brows furrow, viridian eyes narrowing to slits above her pursed lips.

She moistened her throat with a good swallow. "Are you not hungry?" asked Zelda shortly, as she poked at the fried cucco leg on her plate with a fork. "You know I struggle to find my own appetite when I see you like this." There was a note in her voice, something odd, one Link could not quite identify.

Link looked up. He shook his head. "This whole affair bothers me." Her question may have been rhetorical. She probably knew why he was feeling this way, after all. Link was not satisfied; he did not believe their prisoner to be behind the attempt on Zelda's life . . . on his own, even. Link added, flatly so, "I am thinking things are not as settled as we pretend them to be. That is all. And with that thought, I have little stomach for pleasantries and delights."

Zelda winced, but her answer was mild. "Perhaps it is not," she agreed, looking at him levelly; "but you should not let such thoughts ruin the moment." She paused. "Master Kohga and the Yiga Clan had no future in our new kingdom. As well as this, I will ensure," she added, with a reassuring smile, "all avenues are investigated thoroughly, just as they have been."

Our kingdom, Link thought. An interesting choice of words. He relaxed back into his chair, the Master Sword on his back making it uncomfortable. "I am sorry," he then whispered to Zelda. "I should trust more in your leadership."

Zelda waved a feeble, unclenched hand. "You needn't apologize," she muttered half-heartedly. "Your concerns are most welcomed. Besides, here . . . behind these castle walls and with you by my side, I feel quite safe. A bit of revelry never hurt anyone. Won't you allow yourself a moment's respite?" For the first time tonight, Link heard a faint note of pleading in the princess's voice.

Link gestured tactfully, taking an eating utensil in his hand, and stabbing it into a piece of meat. He took a good bite of it, chewing carefully as he mulled over her words. Afterwards, he followed through with a good gulp from his wine cup.

"You need to enjoy it," Zelda said drily, as she bit into her own crispy cucco leg.

He probably looked unhappy right now, he figured. Link turned away from the princess, then, but perhaps because he had been distracted by the sight of Purah and Robbie walking down the centre aisle. He saw the Sheikah woman wave to him.

It was still so strange—realizing he had known Purah for over one hundred years—to see her so young and full of energy. The bawdy woman was wearing a very risky, very revealing gown which left little to his imagination. Her white hair was worn high upon her head and held in place by a silver coronet; a most unusual look for her. And with Robbie now off somewhere else, he could tell immediately she was coming right toward him.

He glanced briefly at Zelda, and then forced himself to meet incoming woman's gaze. He then felt an elbow jab him in the side right before she spoke.

"Good evening, your highness!" said Purah, delivering a curtsy effortlessly. "And to you as well, Sir Link. I trust you two are enjoying yourselves tonight within these warm walls. After all, the weather is quite dreadful if you dare to leave them."

"I suppose so," said Princess Zelda, before turning her gaze back to Link. "This is much the merry occasion, and there are many festivities here to be enjoyed."

"I agree," Purah replied; "and the citadel is stunning: a most remarkable achievement of your short tenure as sovereign over these lands. Such craftsmanship! One truly cannot begin to imagine what disasters took place here over a century ago."

"Hudson worked without rest on this project," Link heard Zelda say. He turned his head to look at her, sitting tall with her back straight against her chair. Her royal gown was marvellous, her breasts full and high, Link saw, and could not help but see. The ruby pendant which hung between her supple flesh drew his eyes, then. And as they travelled lustfully over her, from the base of her neck to her slightly-reddened cheeks, they came to rest on the jewel-encrusted diadem glittering on top of her golden-haired head. A few tendrils of hair had fallen free from its clutches, framing the flawless beauty of her oval face. Her eyes, a deep viridian, like two shimmering emeralds, shone brightly underneath chandelier light. But Zelda's lips, as she talked with Purah, had captured the entirety of his attention. They were full and red, and inviting to look upon. He realized, then, it had been far too long since he had enjoyed the taste of them.

He shook his head, fighting futility against his baser instincts. She was utterly distracting, he told himself. Just the sight of her made him feel light-headed, his hot blood coursing rapidly through his body. He could feel it, and his heart thumping against the cage of his chest. Taking another sip of his wine, he listened further on their conversation.

"The restoration of the kingdom," Zelda was saying to Purah, "is of the upmost importance. Initially, Hyrule Castle was our primary focus, but with the Upheaval came . . . unforeseen consequences, so to speak. Because of that, we had more than enough in our supply reservoir to return the citadel to its former glory. Now, Tarrey Town to the east has grown exponentially; the surrounding fertile fields a new source of agriculture. There are fisheries on both Cephla Lake and Lake Akkala. Our garrisons are nearing full strength, as well. These lands will only continue to prosper in the coming years, and for all time."

Link, leaning back in his chair, angled his head upwards to see the glowing chandeliers and the ceiling fresco far up above that. It was, however, difficult to see now amidst the misty smoke of pipes, fires and all else about the hall.

"It is a crowning achievement," Purah said evenly. A short pause. Link could hear her swallow, then say, "Have you spoken to Symin recently? I hope he is not becoming too lonely in the wake of your leaving."

Zelda was silent for a second, eyelids lowered. Then a moment passed. When her eyes lifted again, Link saw a subtle longing in them. "I have not," she replied; "but I am certain he is just fine. He must have his hands full now, with the school and such."

"I see," said Purah, making a face.

Princess Zelda, quite perturbed, smiled sadly. "I do miss the village," she said wistfully, "if that is what you want me to say. But, when I made it my temporary home during the restoration efforts, I always knew it was not to be forever."

Purah, smiling fondly, said, "Come summertide, we shall all pay them a visit. I am sure the children, growing more and more every day, would love to see you again."

"We shall," said Zelda quietly.

The Sheikah woman had taken note of her demure response. Taking a glass of wine in hand, she said, "I best be off to go and find Robbie. You know, before he gets too deep in his cups again. I bid you a warm farewell, your highness." She bowed slightly, and then looked at Link, saying, "And you too, Linky." He was certain she had winked at him.

With a half-hearted gesture, Link said his goodbyes, and watched as Purah sauntered off down the aisle. When they were alone again, he turned to look at his princess who, seemingly pensive about something, was sipping steadily from her own cup of wine. He touched his gloved hand to her forearm, drawing her attention.

"Forgive me," Zelda murmured.

And that, Link had not expected at all.

"Now, it should be me telling you to enjoy the party," he said, half-amused.

Zelda hesitated. In the background, one could hear music. The Stable Heroes had arrived, and with their troupe in action, there came song and dance aplenty. Hearing this, the beginnings of a smile formed on her expression. "Would you care to dance?" she asked.

Link shook his head. "Let us not," he said. Her free hand, with her long, dainty nails, skimmed playfully over his arm. "Let it alone," he said again, and stood.

He had not meant to appear so cold to her. But Zelda knew better. Here, in the public eye, and in celebration of victory, there could be no worse place for them to make their secret relationship known.

Feeling her feeble squeeze, her last effort to keep him from going, he pulled away and turned. Heavy footsteps took him down the centre aisle, amidst the sounds of laughter and music, of joyful merrymaking. He thought then of everything which had happened these past months. Remembered his near-death experience, saying goodbye to the children of Hateno Village, and so much more. He had time to register the passing colours, the nods of acknowledgement from guests and retainers, the blazing of fires. His brooding mind took him through an angled sequence of rooms and then up a curving flight of stairs; and at the top of those stairs, a spill of pale light came from beyond an opening of a guard tower. When he stepped out onto the balcony—to look out into the white void—it was then, he realized she had followed him.

Being Commander of the Royal Guard, he now wore the appropriate uniform. It did little to stifle the frigid air of winter, here, high up in the sky, and with a squally storm in front of him. Even with the howling wind, he could hear the soft sound of careful footsteps behind him. Link felt his pulse like a hammer. The rush of blood in his veins seemed to warm him, then.

"You left me behind," said Zelda pointedly.

Somewhere inside, there was a better part of him which wished to protest that damning condemnation. But when he turned to look upon her, as she held a candle upwards in her left hand, and he saw the subtle light of it play on her perfect skin, he lost the words. Link could see her own quickening draw of breath, and how her soft, round cheeks seemed to flush against the chilly air of the night. And when his right hand—instinctively, he might add—came up and touched her there, he suddenly wished he had not worn gloves.

Even now, in the midst of a cold, winter night, with wind and snow at his back, and with his own mind reprimanding him for his actions, Link found himself breathing a little quicker at the image Zelda had conjured forth before him. After a century of service, of bonding, this was still true. Always in her presence did he feel like this. And with that pressing awareness, as he stepped forward, reaching outwards to grasp her fully, he became inescapably aware he no longer cared about consequences, nor shame for his actions. His right hand was eager, wrapping around her waist. His left, tilting her head gently downward to meet his kiss.

He would suffer guilt no longer, he told himself as their lips met.

Some time afterwards, their kiss came to an end. It was there, they parted from each other. And Link saw—wondrously so—the deep, red flush painted across the gentle contours of her cheeks beneath dark, blinking lashes. He felt his fingers curl around her chin, seeing that. She, too, smiled innocently as if this were their first kiss they had shared. It was not, but Link had to agree in the moment: each solemn kiss shared between them was equally rousing.

Then Princess Zelda, with a deep sound in her throat, leaned forward and said, "Let us go to my bedchambers."

With that sound tickling the inner walls of his ear, desire was loosed in Link as it never had been before in his life. There came a sudden realization they were walking now, with Zelda pulling him along behind her. He had not too much wine tonight. Just a cup or two. But for some odd reason, the world was blurry, nebulously so, like the backdrop of the wintry night behind them. And so, Link discovered his heartbeat, which had slowed and steadied while they walked, hand-in-hand along empty corridors, was not quite so steady any longer. Perhaps, even, he had begun to tremble.

They went down the stairs, and they kissed again, slowly, outside Zelda's own bedroom door, where a flickering candlelight from a sconce along the wall cast their shadow across it. He felt her hands, meek and submissive while she was in his grasp, clutching the tail of his coat. There was a desire within her, he saw there, reflected in her brilliant eyes of emerald. And he could feel the same desire within him, coursing like his blood streamed through his veins this very second. He ached for her, and she for him. Deep and wide was their need, as strong as a river rising through the breaches of a dike in the dark.

Then, she asked him a question using only her eyes. He understood, plainly, what precisely she wanted. His mouth came to her ear. "Go inside," he heard himself whisper, "so others will not see us."

Her slow nod was her only reply. Though her fingers, laced behind his head, did not move. Link understood, then, reaching for the latch on the door. He lifted it and pushed with some force, swinging it open. The candle Zelda was carrying had long since been abandoned. There was little light in the room, as he walked her backwards into it. Just a cast of pale luminescence reaching its way through the high-glass windows. A brisk wind could be heard wailing against it.

Zelda, not one to stand idle, bore his cap from his head and tossed it on a chair. His own hands, busy with her royal gown and the cloth which bound the coils of her golden hair, struggled mightily. Her crown had fallen to the floor. A moment later, he felt her fingers thread through his own, and then his golden locks spilled about his face. He watched her toss away what had kept it in place. He would have to make sure he found that hairband later, he thought. It was his last one, after all.

His fingers toiled further with her gown, pulling at its corner, and sliding it down her right shoulder. Their extravagant clothes were merely a nuisance now, as she loosened his many layers as quickly as possible. It would never be fast enough. Instead, he kicked his ash-white boots off. His gloves soon followed. And the Master Sword was the last to go, as he unfastened the strap across his chest, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. Zelda drew back, and then lowered her head hungrily, looking over him like that. With the last of his garments removed, he closed the distance between them. She smelt of spice and flowers. A hunger raked the rising fires of his growing need, as he saw just how tightly the half-removed gown hugged her most sensual curves. He thought immediately to rid her of the thing. And to that end, Link tore at the remnant fastenings of her gown, burying his face between her modest breasts as they spilled free. She gasped loudly, her hands reaching outwards to steady herself. His awareness of things vanished posthaste. Of duty, and honour. Those were gone, replaced wholly by the beautiful princess before him. He pushed harder against her, and she fell back onto the bed. Her hands twisted into the sheets, loosening them. Somehow, they had ended up like that, and her gown was merely a memory as he looked upon her nude form, highlighted by the low-lit aura. Seeing her full, naked beauty forced him to lean in for another deep kiss. Her fingers entwined themselves in his long, free-flowing hair, while another hand tore at his trousers. A second passed, before he realized his sex had been freed, and her fingers grasped it firmly.

Never, ever, had he felt such a thing before.

Their kiss deepened more, his tongue entering past her lips to push deep into her mouth. She had spread her legs open, locking them around his hips to pull him in further. Link realized, then—almost incongruously so—she was in fact, guiding him toward her nether regions. With a gasp, she tensed up, her fingers squeezing him gently as he pressed into her. He could feel her hips canting themselves receptively upwards, easing his entry. Link felt an unmistakable warmth; a burning heat as she led him inside her.

For an instant, Link thought he understood, staring there into her mesmerizing, sparkling eyes. He tasted salt, then, as an unthinking flash of realization encased him in their rapturous moment, casting the entire world away all at once. And in those impassioned, bright eyes, he heard her silent plea for more.

Zelda puled weakly into his mouth, then, tears of happiness streaming the sides of her cheeks as she took his full length. The full nature of her need washed over him, as their lips finally parted for her to cry out something, quelling the silence of the night. Perhaps, he thought, it might have been his own name.

He lifted his hands to her breasts, tracing the outline of her beautiful face in the darkness. In a smooth, liquescent motion, Link drove himself into her. The sounds of their love-making, the song of her pleasure-induced cries of fulfilment. It was all he heard now, and when he felt her nails dig themselves into his skin, he reached even further.

Zelda cried out with her climax. Her hands slid weakly along his skin, curving downwards. He was nearing his own, he realized. And it was in this moment, amidst the unmistakable pressure which built with every thrust, he understood what he was about to do. His desire for release obliterated that thought. Such worldly troubles burdened him no longer. Her pleasures had rendered her limp, and her legs loosened around him. It was coming, he felt. He no longer had any control left; and suddenly he had thrown her onto one side, where he found a warm shelter between her thighs. Pillows and sheets scattered, falling to the floor. Her eyes were wound tightly shut, her mouth uttering soundless words.

He worked her harder, as if every thrust drove away the demons and pain which racked him nightly. Never did they haunt him in this moment, as his own climax came hard and fierce. With a great shudder, he fell limp against Princess Zelda, hearing her whisper his own name, over, and over.

He could feel her fingers glide lovingly along his bare, damp skin. Link rolled over on his back then, eyes closing. The last sensations he felt, had been the odd feeling of someone's digits exploring along his body, from his chest, down to his navel, and even his satiated sex.

By the time he was aware of what he did, the inexorability of sleep had already taken him prisoner.