Hey everyone!

This fits somewhere at the end of chapter 13.

I wrote this because I'm craving angst. I want yearning. So here we go.

He heard her voice first.

Over the twitter of songbirds, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the clatter of his commander's greaves with every heavy footfall, Link heard Queen Zelda's laugh.

It sounded like twinkling glass or wind chimes; it was ethereal just like her, light and fleeting and beautiful. And when she came into sight, Link's breath hitched, stopping him dead in his tracks.

Zelda appeared through one of the stone gateways, aglow in the sunlight that flitted through the foliage of the trees. She was breathtaking in the daylight, as if the sun itself burned just to shine on her. Her braided dark hair gleamed, her eyes sparkled with laughter, and her smile was small but bright.

Link was yanked out of his reverie at the sight of the prince of Labrynna, stepping out from behind the topiary. Percival stood tall in a dark green royal jacket that matched her gown, with broad shoulders under gold pauldrons like hers, and ginger hair that was oiled and swept back.

But the way Zelda's twinkling eyes were on his face, the way she was laughing at something he said, and her arm was looped into the crook of his elbow was altogether more painful. Link felt it like a kick in the gut.

When Commander Eagus noticed his second's hesitation, he followed his gaze to the junction that they were all approaching. He spotted the queen and simply went, "Ah," before calling out, "Afternoon, Your Majesty!"

His formidable voice caught their attention immediately, causing both royals to turn and look at the commanders. Zelda's brows lifted when she saw the hero, but her gaze quickly flitted back to Eagus.

"Good afternoon, commanders," she greeted.

"Fine weather we're having, isn't it?" Percival chimed in.

"Sure is," Eagus replied.

Link chose not to comment. A beastly urge to rip the prince off her arm surged through him, and he clenched his jaw. Resolutely, he tore his gaze from Zelda and stared straight ahead instead.

She noticed, of course. There was the slightest pout of her lips, the slightest dip of her brows, while Percival remained unbothered - or perhaps more likely, blissfully unaware of their exchange of glances.

With a courteous nod, she swept the prince down another path. It wasn't until they were out of earshot that Link expelled a heavy breath, as if he hadn't breathed throughout the entire interaction.

Eagus slapped the hero on the back, forcing him to stagger forward. "Ya got it bad, dontcha?"

Link's eyes widened moments before they flew to his superior. "What?"

The burly man chortled from somewhere deep in his chest while he marched ahead. Link was frozen long enough for Eagus to make it to the gateway and so he hastened to follow.

"Commander?"

"C'mon, m'boy. Those councillors might beat around the bush, but I won't. It's clear ya fancy the queen."

Link's heart stopped for a second. Goddess, he wasn't that obvious, was he?

"She – She's the queen," he spluttered, though he could feel his face betray him by heating up a few degrees.

"I don't give a damn about titles. She's a woman; yer a man. That's how it goes sometimes."

He didn't quite know what to say to that. It was sweet, kind of, if he was able to look past the embarrassment. But Eagus didn't seem to care much either way.

"I don't blame ya. The queen's somethin' special, all right. It's a shame they got her all paired up with that prince." He frowned deeply and scratched the side of his head. "But I guess it's not the lad's fault. He seems nice enough, if not a tad lily-livered."

"Do you -" Link hesitated, and then continued in a small voice, "Do you think she likes him?"

That stopped Eagus in his tracks. He turned back to the hero and was surprised by the vulnerable look on his face.

In training, Link was the toughest warrior he'd ever known. He was able to give orders, to march proudly and fight fiercely, as if he knew no fear. And yet here in the gardens, he was quiet and flustered.

He looked like he was in pain.

The sight softened Eagus's ironclad heart. "Yer askin the wrong man about the inner workings of a woman's mind. Especially if that woman is Queen Zelda."

Link's head tilted as his eyes wandered off to a side, almost like his saddened gaze was an anchor.

"But I can tell ya," he continued with a hand to his chin, "I've known Her Majesty since she was a tyke. Deep down, she's not as tough as she seems. I think part of her wants love just like the rest of us."

Link's eyes flashed back to Eagus, and something unidentifiable shimmered in them. Almost like hope.

Somehow, the commander knew he'd said the right thing.

The queen couldn't sleep that night.

She'd always had bouts of insomnia that lasted at least a fortnight, and she accounted her most recent development to all those weeks spent ill in bed. But if Zelda was being honest with herself, which she wasn't, her sleeplessness was more likely due to another matter – or person – entirely.

At some late hour of the night, she threw her hands on the covers with a huff before pushing them off altogether and standing up. Navigating her room with nothing but moonlight, she threw a light cloak over her night things and pulled on a pair of boots. After she fastened the cloak and untucked her hair from its collar, she stole away into the castle corridors.

She didn't have a destination in mind. Some fresh air might be nice, she thought, but she allowed her feet to wander.

The corridors were quiet and empty in the late hour, aside from the patrolling guards, and she savored in the tranquility of it. It was the one time she might afford some peace, the one time when she was not sought out from anyone at all.

In truth, her councillors had been gracious. Since she'd been on the mend of a deadly virus, they'd been very lenient with her schedule, and Zelda was quite honestly surprised. Not that she was audacious enough to call her courtiers cruel: inconsiderate perhaps, at times even rude, but certainly not cruel.

They only had one thing they required of her – a duty they'd given her little to no lenience on. And that was her courtship.

Perhaps she shouldn't think of her courtship as a duty. She was a young woman after all, and Prince Percival of Labrynna was kind, gentle, and fun to be around. He wasn't classically handsome, but he was good looking in his own right: tall with ginger hair and a spatter of light freckles on his nose.

There were worse men to choose from, Zelda thought. She knew from personal experience.

She pushed open a heavy door and stepped onto a rampart. Drawing a deep breath of the brisk air, she allowed her eyes to fall shut. The night was still and calm. There was the rhythmic chirps of crickets, the hoots of a nearby owl, and the distant squeaks of a bat. By the time her eyes opened, a smile was on her lips.

Using the torchlight on the walls to light her path, she made her way down a staircase and cut through the misty fog that stretched over the castle grounds. It was then, in the firelight, that she found herself under the arch perimeter of the training yard. The knights and squires had long retired, along with the commanders, and Zelda was left all alone.

After giving a cursory glance down the pathway she'd come from, her eyes swept over the enclosure. Since completing her training years ago, she'd visited the training yard less often, especially after Zant's invasion and Hyrule's subsequent restoration.

Eagus had trained her well in many different fighting styles and with a variety of weapons, but she'd always been drawn to the bow. Archery allotted her tranquility unlike anything else in her life, and her skill proved quite useful in the battle against Ganondorf.

Her sharp eyes snagged onto one of the targets. There was no harm tiring herself off, she figured. And so, Zelda unhooked a bow from the wall, loaded a quiver and slung it over her shoulder. Then she positioned herself in front of a painted wooden target.

After nocking the arrow, she raised the bow and drew the fletching beneath her jaw. Everything outside of the target faded away, feeding into the fog, as her eyes narrowed in on its center.

With a small breath, she released the arrow. It whistled through the air before lodging itself into the crimson center with a muted thud.

Zelda smiled.

She couldn't tell how long she spent, or how many arrows she loosed, or how many walks she took to retrieve them and start again. But with every shot she took, the tightness in her shoulders relaxed, her breath became steadier, and she felt sleepiness start to rear its head.

When she'd gotten to the last arrow in her quiver once more, she decided to make the last shot count. Her eyes locked in on the fletching lodged in the center.

With another breath, she freed the arrow. It shot through the air before slicing straight through the other arrow's shaft, splintering the wood in the process.

"Wow."

Zelda leapt out of her skin. She spun on her heel to find none other than the hero, awash in the flickering torchlight, under one of the archways. His eyes were locked on the arrow, which had effectively peeled back another, before they moved to find hers. The queen cleared her throat.

"Link."

"Zelda."

After a brief pause, she stepped forward, deciding it was the only rational thing to do. She couldn't exactly justify turning on her heel and walking away any more than she could justify hiding behind one of the straw dummies.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Her gaze followed Link's while it swept over the training yard, as if confused, either by her foolish question or by the way he lacked an answer to it.

"I come early sometimes. To practice."

"Is it nearly dawn?"

"Well, no, but…"

There was hesitation on his face, maybe even embarrassment, and he scratched the back of his neck. Her brow arched.

"I couldn't sleep." His eyes darted away, but they flicked back to hers briefly.

"I see." After an uncertain pause, Zelda slung her bow and began collecting her arrows. The movement set his gaze back on her.

"What are you doing here?" Then, he added with feeling, "It's cold out."

"I actually find the weather pleasant. It's been too long since I've had the pleasure of being outdoors."

With the last of the arrows in the quiver, she stowed it away alongside the bow and turned back to him. She hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I also had trouble sleeping."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

There was another beat of silence, where neither knew what to say. Then he said, "Did you-" at the same moment she started, "Perhaps I-" Both their mouths shut, eyes meeting in mutual embarrassment.

The tension between them was unnatural. When did it become like this? Only a week ago, they were laughing and confiding in one another. And then Percival –

Well, Percival hadn't done anything either of them didn't expect. He came to Hyrule in pursuit of Zelda's hand in marriage, just like the other princes and aristocrats. Now, he was courting her. He called upon her and brought her flowers and recited poetry.

Admittedly, it was all rather rushed. Percival waited so long for her to recover and nobody wanted to make him wait any longer. Zelda felt especially guilty for inadvertently holding him hostage these last few weeks.

But in doing so, her bond with Link began to strain, like a heavy load on a frayed knot. He surely felt her pulling away and he had to know why. Of course he was unfamiliar with royal courtships, but he wasn't daft. He had to know what was going on.

Zelda desperately wanted to know what he thought of it. Why hadn't he made any objections? Then again, how dare she imagine he would? The last thing he needed was to get into any more trouble with foreign princes.

When she didn't speak, Link tried again. "Will you stay?" He must've realized the vagueness of his question because he elaborated with, "And practice."

She knew she shouldn't; Zelda knew she should probably turn tail and run back to her chambers. After some sleep, she just might be able to harness the skill of a thespian to pretend this interaction never happened in the morning.

With his fingers in his belt loops and a small shrug, he added, "I could use a partner." Somehow, that was enough to unarm her.

"Very well."

It was rewarded by a smile, both genuine and dashing, that sent her heart fluttering. He stepped forward, picked up two rapiers, and with his other hand, reached out and took hers.

And time grinded to a halt.

Zelda's breath hitched. Link froze. The familiar shock of skin against skin trilled up their arms, and a tremor shot from his heart straight to hers.

He hadn't meant to be so forward. He hadn't thought about it at all, really: he simply meant to hand her the hilt. But somehow, after his eyes found her hand, he'd taken it instead.

Now that he had, he couldn't let go. His hand was behind hers, his fingertips brushing her knuckles. Painstakingly slow, it slid up the length of her hand, dancing across the dorsum, and then his fingertips were just a whisper on her wrist.

Their eyes slowly rose to find each other. Zelda swallowed painfully. Even as his eyes travelled over her face in search of something, she didn't move.

Her chest tightened and she shut her eyes. Her feelings were so strong – the moment too intense. It was just a touch. Just a touch, and yet she quivered.

"The rapier," she uttered, strained.

The words seemed to startle him from his daze. He dropped her hand and time snapped back to speed. After passing her the hilt, he looked away.

"I…" Link began, his voice devoid of breath. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Zelda said. Perhaps she shouldn't have: it wasn't all right and they both knew it. They shouldn't be holding hands; they shouldn't be touching at all.

Link wasn't courting her, nor was he even eligible as a suitor. It was wrong to touch in that manner, especially when another man's proposal was just on the horizon.

And yet, it felt so right.

Eager to end the thought there, she took a few steps back. Perhaps duelling would be enough to keep her mind occupied, considering how long it'd been since she practiced.

"Shall we begin?"

At his small, distracted nod, she slid into position. Link mirrored her with an idle swing of his blade, a habit she'd noticed in his duel with Ganondorf.

And then it began. Zelda engaged him with a series of precise moves, all of which he easily blocked.

Just by watching his duels, she knew Link's skill was unmatched, but fighting him was another matter entirely. Though they'd technically duelled before, she'd been a puppet under Ganondorf's strings and could remember next to nothing of the encounter.

If it wasn't clear before, his expertise was certainly evident now. He was graceful and swift, his blade an extension of his body. And his body, the way that it moved and twisted - she was entranced.

Her swings began to fall more heavily until Link suddenly ducked, causing her to stagger forward, and he lightly jabbed her on the side.

Zelda recoiled and he smiled in an easy, boyish way that was both frustrating and exhilarating. Eyes locked, they stepped back and began to circle each other.

"Do you practice every night?"

"Sometimes," he admitted with another shrug. "It's a good distraction."

She mulled over his words even as Link engaged her again, their blades ringing like the tolls of a bell. He blocked every slice just as she evaded every thrust.

"Is there a lot on your mind?"

Link didn't answer at first. His eyes had moved from hers to their rapiers, though it seemed he wasn't entirely focused on their movement. She'd seen through his feint and caught his blade's edge just before he could nick her again.

"Something like that."

Link lunged. Upon blocking, she slowly slid the edge of her blade up the length of his and forced it away. The opening allowed her to jab him on the shoulder.

"For me as well."

His gaze flashed back to hers, uncertain and withdrawn, before flitting between her eyes. The tension was nearly palpable.

"Is it," Link finally ventured, his voice in his throat, "the prince?"

With a tight swallow, she dropped her gaze. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she thrusted her rapier, but Link stepped aside just before it could jab him. He batted it away and retaliated, prompting the chiming of steel to once again echo throughout the yard.

"In part," she finally said.

"He likes you."

"It would appear so."

There was another question on his tongue, another unsaid word he wouldn't dare voice, and yet Zelda could feel it hanging in the air.

Do you like him?

Winded, Zelda disengaged and stepped back, settling a hand on her stomach as she tried to catch her breath. They resumed circling one another, as if in a dance.

"Percival possesses a kind heart." She wiped a hand over her dewy brow. "For people in my position, sometimes that's all one needs to ascertain."

"Is that enough?"

"It..." She hesitated. "It must be."

There was a frown set on his face, seemingly unconvinced, that made her feel uneasy. She stepped forward and engaged him once more with a bout of strikes.

With every clash of their rapiers, the space between them dwindled. It was as if a gravitational pull drew them together, as if space itself surrendered so they might get closer.

"What about love?"

She struck down, but it caught the edge of his rapier.

"Love is not always an option."

Their blades locked, forming a saltire between them, their faces unguarded above the intersection.

They went still in the same instant, at the sudden realization of how close they'd gotten. They were breathing heavily and her eyes fluttered, lashes low as they dropped to his lips.

And then Link whispered, "It could be."

Her breath caught. There Link stood, the very essence of all that she desired less than a handspan away, and she was immobilized by three simple words.

Zelda desperately wanted him to elaborate. She wanted him to say that he would love her, if she would only allow him to. It was foolish and improper and impossible, but she wanted it anyway.

It was as if her mind had divested all rationality - as if it willingly surrendered its authority to her heart when it came to him.

"Link," Zelda said, breathless and spellbound.

He seemed equally entranced by her proximity. His chest rose and fell with shuddering breaths; his cheeks were flushed to where she could feel its heat, but he didn't push away. His lips were close - so close.

Zelda couldn't remember thinking much about kissing before Link, but now it was all she could think of. What did he taste like? How would his lips move against hers? Where would he touch her?

"I..." There were a thousand ways she wanted to finish her sentence, a thousand things she wanted to tell him. But what came out instead was, "…I should think that's a stalemate."

The words she spoke, before she could even deliberate them, forced her to step back, and the knot in her chest tightened immediately. Her feelings for him sat thick and heavy in her chest, but her future lied in someone else's hands.

To her surprise, Link stepped after her with his hand out. "Zelda -"

Her eyes flashed up to his. His brows were furrowed, pained. So many unsaid words festered in the space between them. His mouth was shaping words his voice could not find, but still her ears strained to make them out.

"Just…" he took another step towards her, the point of his rapier dropping to the floor, "don't do anything that'll make you unhappy."

Her lips pressed into a tight line. More than anything, Zelda wished that she could take his advice. She wished her marriage didn't have to be discussed with a council; she wished that her decisions held no consequences for anyone else.

But she was the queen, and such choices were never really hers.

With a small dip of her head, she simply said, "Goodnight, Link," and disappeared into the night.