Whether holding a sharp wand or needle
Zelda holds them like they're about to break
Yet wields them with precision for whatever situation
Maybe it's because she comes from a noble line with traditions still held
Or her Faery-ness keeping her from grabbing too hard
I've seen them shake from the nightmares of a memory
and I've seen them hesitate when she first reached for me
I kiss her nimble fingers, when she worries or doubts
Wondering if it'll do anything to ease her mind
Whatever she may see when she looks at her hands
I know I can always trust them with my life.