Chapter 84 - Timeline Tensions and Heartfelt Questions
Summary: In the Victory Timeline, Zelda deals with hurt feelings over knowledge of timeline travel with Purah and Robbie, while Mipha and Link do the same with their daughter Lapha. In the Calamity Timeline, Fallon has an important question for Astra.
In the Victory Timeline it was a wet and dreary mid-day at Hyrule Castle, the kind of day where the sky hung low and oppressive, a swirling mass of gray clouds that seemed to stretch endlessly over the horizon. Rain streamed steadily against the tall, arched windows of the family dining room, a delicate tapping that filled the otherwise silent chamber. Despite the burning fireplace, the scent of damp stone, earthy and cold, wafted faintly into the room from the ancient castle walls, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly polished wood.
Purah and Robbie sat—or rather, Robbie sat while Purah restlessly paced—bathed in the dim, uneven light filtering through the rain-slicked windows. The silence between them was tense, heavy with unspoken questions and anticipation for their meeting with Queen Zelda. The room itself was an unexpected choice for their gathering; they had expected to meet in Zelda's office. The family dining room felt almost too personal for what they assumed would be a discussion of significant importance. Yet when Purah had reached out to Zelda, requesting an audience to discuss what they'd uncovered, Zelda had responded with an unexpected invitation.
"I'll have spent all morning at a council of ministers meeting,"Zelda had written back."Thanks to my daughter being preoccupied with family duties, I've been left to handle matters alone. Let's all meet for lunch instead—it will be more relaxed."
The table before them had its surface draped in a white tablecloth so clean it practically glowed even under the muted light. The fabric cascaded over the edges in elegant folds that brushed against the polished floor. Robbie, ever meticulous and orderly, in stark contrast to his research partner Purah, couldn't resist adjusting it. His fingers skimmed over the cloth's surface, tugging it just slightly until it aligned perfectly with the table's edge. He leaned back with a small nod of satisfaction as though this minor act of order brought him some semblance of control.
Purah, however, couldn't be bothered with such distractions. She strode back and forth along the length of the room, her shoes sinking slightly into the plush carpet with each step, muffling what would otherwise have been sharp footfalls. Her movements were brisk and purposeful yet aimless all at once—a physical manifestation of her mood. Every so often, she paused mid-stride to adjust her oversized glasses, pushing them up her nose with an impatient flick of her fingers before resuming her pacing. Her gaze darted toward the corridors branching off from the dining room each time she passed them, scanning for any sign of movement. When none came, she let out an audible huff that made Robbie glance up from his chair.
"You're making me dizzy," Robbie muttered without much conviction, his voice breaking through the quiet.
Purah shot him a look over her shoulder—a mixture of apology and irritation flickering across her face. "Well," she retorted sharply, "excuse me if I don't feel like sitting around twiddling my thumbs while we wait for Her Majesty."
Robbie sighed deeply but didn't press further. Instead, he leaned back in his chair again, crossing his arms as he watched her pace with a sort of detached curiosity. After a moment, he pushed himself to his feet with an exaggerated groan and began to wander about the room as well. Their paths crisscrossed in silence save for occasional murmurs about the rain or a pointed glance exchanged between them—a quiet camaraderie born from years of shared work and mutual understanding.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as they waited. Minutes felt like hours until finally—finally—the sound of footsteps echoed faintly down one of the adjoining corridors. Purah froze mid-step, her head snapping toward the doorway. Robbie stopped as well, his heart giving an involuntary leap as Queen Zelda stepped gracefully into view.
She entered with an air that was both regal and disarmingly warm—like sunlight breaking through storm clouds after days of rain. Her presence seemed to shift something intangible in the room, filling it with a quiet energy that made both Purah and Robbie unconsciously straighten their postures. Even after all these years on Hyrule's throne and countless encounters with her closest science advisors, Zelda still carried an otherworldly quality about her—a lingering echo of her divine lineage as a descendant of Hylia herself.
Her golden hair was arranged in intricate braids woven into a crown-like pattern that framed her face, each strand gleaming faintly even in the subdued light. Though she was now 38, thanks to a 22-year age reduction by Purah's rune some years ago, she looked even younger—a striking juxtaposition between youthful appearance and seasoned wisdom from experience.
"Good morning," Zelda greeted them warmly as she crossed the threshold into the dining room. Her voice was steady yet gentle. "I apologize for keeping you waiting longer than intended. The council meeting ran over."
"Good morning," Purah and Robbie replied almost simultaneously, their voices overlapping awkwardly in their eagerness to respond.
Zelda's smile was genuine and radiant enough to dissipate some of Purah's lingering impatience. "You needed to see me urgently?" she asked lightly as she moved toward her seat at the head of the table. There was a playful glint in her eye as she added teasingly, "I trust this isn't about a catastrophic experiment gone awry?"
Robbie hesitated visibly at her words—unsure whether she was jesting or genuinely concerned—but Purah let out a soft laugh tinged with nervousness. "Not this time," she said quickly before Robbie could stumble over his response. Her tone shifted then—growing sharper with urgency as she leaned slightly forward toward Zelda. "But we did discover something… unexpected."
Zelda lowered herself gracefully into her chair at the head of the table without missing a beat—her every movement deliberate yet effortless—as servants entered silently behind her carrying trays laden with steaming bowls of soup and artfully arranged platters. The gentle clink of porcelain against silverware filled the pause before Zelda spoke again.
"Unexpected?" she echoed thoughtfully once they were alone again—the servants having departed as quietly as they'd arrived—and fixed Purah with an expression equal parts curiosity and calm authority.
"Yes," Purah replied firmly now—her earlier hesitation evaporating under Zelda's steady gaze…
"You could have told us, Your Majesty," Purah said, her voice cracking under the weight of her mixed emotions. The accusatory words escaped her lips with a rawness that startled even herself. To Robbie's ears, she sounded torn—an uneven balance between wounded pride and a deep, genuine hurt. It wasn't often that he saw Purah so unguarded, and it unsettled him. "We know Princess Astra returned here," she pressed on, her words sharper now as she fixed Zelda with an insistent gaze that refused to waver. "And she must have visited you."
Zelda's expression remained calm as if Purah's piercing tone slid off her like water against stone. She allowed the silence to stretch between them, not out of indifference but as though to acknowledge the storm of emotion behind Purah's accusation. Finally, she responded, her voice calm and measured, carrying a note of admiration that was sincere yet tinged with wistfulness.
"I imagine I should congratulate you both on being so clever," Zelda said at last. "How did you find out?" she added as if inquiring about something no more pressing than the discovery of a misplaced trinket.
Though it shouldn't have, the question seemed to catch Robbie off guard. He fumbled for an answer before Purah could step in, his eagerness propelling him into speech faster than his thoughts could align.
"Tab logs!" he blurted out, his voice rising slightly in pitch from a mix of nerves and excitement. He adjusted his goggles with one hand—a compulsive habit he never managed to shake. "We were looking into something else entirely…" His words tumbled out in rapid succession, tripping over one another. "And then I noticed anomalies—timestamps that didn't add up at first—and we realized…" He faltered mid-sentence as Zelda's patient gaze settled on him. There was no judgment in her eyes, but the sheer calmness there seemed to magnify his own flustered state.
Purah stepped in without missing a beat, her tone sharper than necessary as if to reclaim control of the moment. "It wasn't hard to piece together," she said briskly, folding her arms across her chest as though shielding herself from further disappointment. Her resolve was unmistakable—she would not be placated by soft words or polite smiles this time.
Zelda nodded slowly. "I see your curiosity remains as sharp as ever," she remarked with a small smile that carried just enough warmth to soften some of the tension in the room. It wasn't an apology exactly, but it felt like one all the same—a subtle gesture of respect for their relentless pursuit of knowledge.
"But Your Majesty!" Purah burst out again before Zelda could say more. Her voice trembled slightly at first, but it quickly steadied into something firmer—something accusatory. "Why didn't you tell us about such a monumental event? Travel across timelines is unheard of and we're your chief scientists! Don't you trust us?"
The question hung heavy in the air, and Robbie glanced nervously at Purah, his fingers twitching against his sides. He hoped desperately that this confrontation wouldn't escalate further; Purah's temper was nothing short of legendary when provoked. But so was Zelda's.
However Zelda's response was deliberate, calm in its precision. She reached for her glass of water with unhurried grace, took a measured sip, and set it back down with care before finally speaking again.
"It wasn't about trust, Dr. Purah," Zelda said at last, her voice retaining its characteristic gentleness but now underscored by an undeniable firmness—like stone wrapped in silk. "I trust you both deeply." Her eyes lingered on each of them for a moment as if to imprint the sincerity of her words upon their hearts before continuing. "But this was not my secret to share."
Purah blinked rapidly at this revelation, visibly taken aback by its simplicity and weight. Her mouth opened slightly—ready to argue—but no words came forth.
"The North Hyrule Sheikah requested secrecy," Zelda explained further. "It was a request I felt obliged to honor."
"And Princess Astra?" Robbie ventured cautiously after a heavy pause stretched between them. His voice was tentative yet laced with undeniable curiosity as he broached what he knew was a sensitive subject for all involved. "How do you feel about her traveling like that? Doesn't movement between timelines pose… risks?"
"I suppose it does," Zelda admitted quietly after what felt like an eternity of silence. "But Astra has always been her father's adventurous daughter: bold and determined." She paused again to take another sip of water."Besides, there are greater risks for those alive in both timelines," Zelda continued. "Which is why their travel… is forbidden."
Purah's analytical mind seized on it immediately. "Paradoxes?" she asked sharply, her curiosity piqued despite herself.
"Among other things, I was told," Zelda replied enigmatically, leaving them to grapple with the implications. "By the way, Astra said she also visited Zora's Domain and met with some of her family. So they would be aware of this as well."
Robbie and Purah exchanged a startled glance, each of them trying to reconcile their surprise with what they thought they knew.
"But Dr. Lapha knew nothing about it!" Robbie exclaimed, his brow furrowing as the pieces refused to align in his mind.
"Ah, her family probably didn't feel they could tell her without permission given their promise of secrecy," said Zelda without a hint of judgment. "I imagine she is at least as hurt as you are that they didn't confide in her."
Her words were both comforting and disconcerting, leaving Robbie and Purah to confront the idea that their exclusion was not quite as personal as it first appeared.
For a moment longer, silence reigned as they absorbed the depth of what Zelda had revealed. Then Zelda smiled again: warm and reassuring. "Anyway, thank you for your understanding and forgiveness as to why I withheld such important information from you," she said simply, her appreciation genuine. "As for North Hyrule's technical reasons for secrecy and travel restrictions, perhaps you should discuss them with their science liaison—I believe her name is Aldora?"
The mention of Aldora's name immediately rekindled something in Robbie. "Aldora is missing and it was our search for her in the Tab logs that led to us noticing Princess Astra was here—or at least her Tab was," said Robbie, his voice a rapid torrent once again.
"I suspect Aldora was entrusted to visit with Princess Astra to assist her on her journey," said Purah.
"And Mipha and Link are missing as well, at least as of yesterday," Robbie added.
"Ah, I see," said Zelda with a smile. "Then perhaps they have visited the other timeline. I wish I could do so too, but as I said earlier, it's not permitted. Now, if that addresses your concerns, shall we eat before the soup gets cold?"
And just like that, the tension began to dissolve—not entirely gone but softened enough to begin enjoying their meal together just like old times.
Meanwhile, in Zora's Domain, Lapha stood by a window of their Mikau Lake home, her silhouette framed by the light outside as she watched the steady rainfall splash into the calm waters of Mikau Lake. Her shoulders were rigid and her posture tense.
Aside from the occasional peal of thunder, the only sounds were the steady splash of the waterfall and raindrops tapping against the window, creating a silence that heightened her sense of loneliness. The house, once lively with voices and movement, felt like an empty shell with only her presence to fill it. Midon had left for North Hyrule, likely spending time with Tiray as he often did when given the chance. Mila had gone to Lurelin Village with Kendal during his leave from duty. Linky and his family had moved to North Hyrule. She hated how empty it all felt.
Since Purah had uncovered the truth—something that Lapha still felt unsure how to process—she had chosen to travel home and wait for her parents' return. There was a heaviness in the air that the silence only amplified. Her eyes drifted to the lake outside, where the trees and bushes danced in the wind. She had considered waiting for them in the water outside, but the risk of lightning held her back. With a sharp exhale, she turned away from the scene and began to pace the room. Her footsteps made a gentle echo against the smooth stone floor. The anticipation was eating away at her—waiting for answers, waiting for their arrival. She felt the urge to be angry, but more than anything, she desired understanding and assurance her parents were alright.
Gradually, she began to hear voices outside—soft murmurs that grew increasingly distinct as they neared. She stopped in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest. A few moments later, the door opened with a quiet creak, letting in a cool morning breeze that carried the familiar aroma of Zora's Domain—a refreshing blend of water and stone. Mipha and Link entered together.
Lapha turned on her heel so quickly it nearly made her dizzy, her fins twitching with pent-up energy. Relief surged through her like a tidal wave, but it collided almost instantly with an undercurrent of indignation.
"You're back!" she blurted out, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes despite herself. "Finally! I didn't know where you were! I couldn't even reach you on your Tabs!"
Mipha's golden eyes softened immediately as she stepped closer to her daughter. Her arms opened in an invitation, a gentle gesture meant to soothe, though she could see how tightly Lapha held herself together. "Dearest Lapha," she said softly, her tone warm and full of apology. "We're so sorry. We didn't mean to worry you."
Link followed close behind, his expression sheepish but tinged with affection. "We were fine," he said in his usual calm, steady voice. "Just… out of range for a bit." His attempt at reassurance carried an apologetic undertone.
"Way out of range," Lapha muttered bitterly under her breath, though she didn't resist when Mipha stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her in a firm embrace. The tension in Lapha's shoulders began to ease as she melted slightly into her mother's hold, though the words kept tumbling out in a rush. "I was afraid something happened to you both. And now I find out Astra must have visited here and nobody thought to inform me?"
Mipha gently stroked Lapha's tail fin—a soothing habit from years past that never failed to ease her daughter's nerves—and sighed softly. "You're right," Mipha admitted quietly, guilt flickering across her features. "We should have told you we would be away. And we should have told you about Astra sooner too."
Link stepped closer then, placing a reassuring hand on Lapha's shoulder as he chimed in with a note of optimism. "And now that we've gotten permission to share what we know," he said with a small smile tugging at his lips, "there won't be any more secrets about this—not within our family. By the way, Midon still doesn't know about Astra either."
Lapha pulled back slightly from Mipha's embrace just enough to meet her father's gaze directly. Her brow furrowed as she processed his words before asking hesitantly, "Permission? Permission from who?"
Mipha exchanged a quick glance with Link before answering carefully. "From Queen Faray and the North Hyrule Sheikah," she said gently. "We've been to the other timeline, the one Astra came from. Your uncle Sidon is king there now—your grandfather has stepped down."
Lapha blinked up at them both in astonishment as those words sank in. All traces of frustration melted away from her face, replaced by wide-eyed wonder tinged with disbelief. "Uncle Sidon?" she repeated incredulously. "He's king now? That's… so weird!"
Mipha chuckled softly—a sound that seemed to lift some of the lingering tension in the room, and nodded. "It's true," she said fondly. "He's changed a good deal from the Sidon we know here … but he's still Sidon."
"And Grandpa Dorephan?" Lapha asked eagerly, curiosity brightening her features again as she leaned forward slightly toward them both. "Is he okay? What did they say when they saw you?"
"They were happy," Link replied after a brief pause—a faint shadow crossing his expression before he forced himself to smile again for Lapha's sake.
Mipha nodded in agreement. "They were glad to see us," she said simply but with deep emotion underlying every word.
Lapha hesitated for a moment longer before finally blurting out another question—her curiosity clearly insatiable despite everything else swirling around them emotionally: "Was it very different there?" she asked earnestly. "The Calamity timeline?"
Mipha exhaled slowly before sinking down onto the chair nearby and gesturing for Lapha to sit as well, while Link lingered nearby thoughtfully watching their exchange unfold.
"It was different," Mipha admitted. "But we only spent time with family at the Domain, so can't speak to more than that."
"How about I catch lunch?" Link interrupted. "Conversation is always better on a full stomach."
"Is that why you were always so quiet, sweetheart? You were hungry?" Mipha teased.
"Very funny," Link replied. "But I'm too hungry now to argue."
"Now I definitely feel at home!" Lapha laughed. "And I'm hungry, too."
"I'm glad," said Mipha. "For this is indeed your home, sweetheart. You should visit more often as we both love to see you."
Meanwhile, in the Calamity Timeline, Fallon turned the small engagement ring over in his hand, the diamond catching the morning light that filtered through the window. The ring was deceptively small, but to him, it carried the weight of generations—a relic of love unbroken by time or tragedy. His mother had worn it proudly, a symbol of her unshakable bond with his father, and now it was his. No longer just an heirloom, it had become a test of his resolve.
He stared at it for what felt like hours, though the morning sun had barely shifted.Could he do this? Should he?Fallon's thoughts churned like restless waves. He'd considered confiding in Torin—his closest friend and partner in countless missions—but something held him back.
"Better to tell him after," Fallon murmured to himself. Sharing his intentions beforehand might prove a nuisance should he fail. This was his path to walk alone. He closed his fist around the ring, drawing strength from its solidity. "If this ring can endure everything it's been through, the untimely death of my parents, so can I."
With a breath that steadied his trembling hands, Fallon slipped the ring into his pocket. The metal felt cool against his fingertips—a reassuring presence as he rose from his chair with purpose. His boots clicked softly against the stone floor as he left his quarters.
The path to Hyrule Castle felt both familiar and foreign. Fallon had walked it countless times as a guard and later Royal Guard, but today, every cobblestone seemed laden with unseen significance. The castle loomed ahead like a silent witness to his intentions, its spires piercing the cloudless sky. He knew where Astra would be—she'd told him herself just yesterday: "Meet me in the garden at midday." It was her favorite meeting place, a private sanctuary of life and color even in the chill of early spring.
As Fallon entered the garden, he scanned for her amidst the evergreen trees and tall shrubs. The space was alive with quiet beauty—the soft rustle of leaves in the wind, the faint chirp of brave birds heralding spring's approach. And then he saw her.
Astra stood beneath a towering cedar, her golden hair catching the dappled sunlight that filtered through its branches. She wore a deep green cloak trimmed with silver embroidery that shimmered faintly when she moved.
The sound of Fallon's footsteps on the gravel path drew her attention. She turned to face him, her expression lighting up with recognition. "Fallon!" she called out, her voice clear and warm. Her smile widened as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I hoped you'd find me."
"I always do, at least when you want to be found," Fallon replied softly as he approached her. His heart raced—not from exertion but from anticipation.
They embraced briefly but tightly. And when they parted just enough to see each other's faces, Fallon leaned in for a kiss—a gentle meeting of lips that was exhilarating.
But then he pulled back slightly, his expression shifting to one of nervous determination. Better to get to the point at once before his nerve failed him. "Astra," he began awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck—a familiar habit she'd often teased him about. "I—I wanted to talk to you."
Her brows lifted in playful curiosity as she tilted her head to one side. "Talk?" she repeated with mock incredulity. "Since when do you need an excuse to talk?"
He chuckled despite himself but quickly grew serious again. "No, it's… different this time," he said, his words faltering under the gaze of her bright blue eyes.
Astra's teasing smile softened into concern. "Are you alright? You're not sick or anything… are you?" Her tone was light but laced with genuine worry.
"No, no," Fallon assured her quickly, shaking his head as if to banish any such notion. "I'm fine—or I will be if you let me finish."
She raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. "Finish? You haven't even started!"
He exhaled sharply through his nose—a sound caught between amusement and exasperation—as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the ring. The motion was sudden and unpracticed; for a moment, it caught on the fabric of his cloak before coming free.
The diamond caught a beam of sunlight and sent tiny rainbows scattering across their faces as Fallon dropped to one knee before her.
"Astra," he began, his voice steady despite the rapid thudding of his heart, "I love you more than anything in this world—or any world—and I want to spend my life at your side." He paused briefly, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt or hesitation before continuing earnestly: "Not just as your Royal Guard but as your husband."
Her breath hitched audibly at those words; she stared down at him with wide eyes that glistened faintly in the light.
"I promise," Fallon pressed on, his voice thick with emotion yet unwavering in its sincerity, "to be everything you deserve—to cherish you not because it's my duty but because it'syou.Will you marry me?"
For a moment that felt suspended outside time itself—Astra said nothing. Her lips parted slightly as though forming words that refused to come forth.
When at last she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper: "Fallon… is this—?" She stopped herself mid-question as tears sprang unbidden to her eyes.
"It was my mother's," he explained gently before she could finish asking. He held up the ring so she could see it more clearly—the intricate band shaped like intertwined vines cradling the diamond at its center. "I know it's not what a Princess deserves, but … I want it to be yours." His voice wavered slightly on those last words.
Astra's silence stretched long enough for doubt to creep into Fallon's thoughts—but then she dropped abruptly to her knees so they were eye-level and threw her arms around him with such force that they nearly toppled backward together onto the gravel path.
"Yes!" she exclaimed breathlessly against his shoulder before pulling back just enough so their faces were mere inches apart again—and then saying louder for good measure: "Yes! Of course—yes! And I couldn't ask for a more beautiful ring."
His relief washed over him in a sudden, overwhelming rush, so complete it was almost painful—like the sharp, tingling ache of warmth returning to frozen fingers after too long in the cold. As they rose together, Fallon tightened his arms around her, burying his face against her shoulder for just a heartbeat longer than necessary. Finally, with a reluctant breath, he pulled back just enough to look at her face, his dark eyes searching hers.
Her smile met him with a joy so fierce it left him breathless.
"I didn't think you'd be surprised," Fallon admitted softly, slipping the ring onto her finger with deliberate care. The fit was perfect, snug without being tight, as though it had been crafted for this very moment—this very person. His lips curled upward into a faint smile as he added, "Though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terribly nervous."
Astra laughed then, and Fallon found himself grinning despite himself. "Surprised?" she repeated with mock incredulity, her voice light and bubbling over with mirth. She tilted her head slightly, an impish gleam in her eyes. "Fallon, I thought you'd never ask! It's been, what, over two years since we started dating?"
"Not quite that long," Fallon replied with a chuckle, though he knew she wasn't far off. Still, there was no sting in her words—only affection wrapped in playful teasing. "But I'll admit you're better with timelines than I am."
Astra leaned into him then, her hand slipping into his as she tilted the newly adorned ring toward the light. It sparkled like a tiny sun caught between them, reflecting their shared excitement in its golden glow. "We should tell Her Majesty," she said suddenly, her tone brimming with anticipation as though she couldn't contain herself any longer. "She'll want to know right away."
Fallon blinked at her enthusiasm, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in focus. "Right now?" he asked, his voice tinged with surprise—and something else he couldn't quite name. Perhaps it was the lingering haze of disbelief that any of this was truly happening. "Are you sure?"
Astra's smile turned sly, the corner of her mouth upward in a way that sent a thrill through him. "Why wait?" she countered with a raised brow that dared him to argue otherwise. "Unless…" She paused for dramatic effect, leaning closer until their noses almost touched. "Unless you're scared?"
The challenge in her tone sparked something within him—a call to action he couldn't ignore. Fallon straightened slightly, squaring his shoulders as though preparing for battle. "Of course not," he declared with mock indignation that quickly gave way to sincerity. And for the first time since this whirlwind moment began, he realized he believed it.
Hand in hand, they left the garden together, their laughter trailing behind them. But finding Queen Zelda proved more challenging than anticipated; though they checked her office first, they found it empty save for a neat stack of correspondence waiting on her desk. Mira, Zelda's trusted attendant, directed them to the library instead—a place where the queen often sought knowledge amidst ancient tomes and quiet contemplation.
When they finally entered the library's grand double doors, the room welcomed them with an almost sacred stillness. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and ink—a warm and comforting aroma that spoke of history preserved within these walls. Shelves upon shelves of books towered around them.
Queen Zelda sat at a large oak table near the room's center, her posture relaxed as she pored over an open book illuminated by the flickering glow of nearby lanterns. She looked up at their approach, her sharp green eyes immediately taking them in with an expression that hovered somewhere between surprise and amusement.
Fallon hesitated for a fraction of a second—long enough for doubt to creep back in—but Astra's hand tightened around his own in silent reassurance. He drew strength from her touch and stepped forward with what he hoped was an air of confidence befitting his request.
"Um," Astra began before Fallon could find his voice again. Her tone was light but carried an undercurrent of barely contained excitement that made Zelda's lips twitch upward in response. "There's something we want to ask you."
Zelda closed her book carefully—almost ceremoniously—and set it aside before rising gracefully to meet them.
"Oh?" she prompted gently after a moment's pause, folding her hands neatly before her as though inviting them to continue.
Fallon cleared his throat and took another step closer; his heart pounded so loudly he half-expected Zelda to comment on it outright. "Your Majesty," he began formally but faltered almost immediately—the title felt too stiff on his tongue when addressing someone about such a personal matter. Forcing himself onward despite his discomfort, he added earnestly: "May I have your permission to marry Princess Astra?"
Zelda regarded him closely then—not unkindly but with an intensity that seemed designed to peel back layers until she saw straight into his soul. Her gaze softened slightly as it shifted between him and Astra—the latter glowing with happiness so bright it seemed contagious—and whatever answer lay within her heart became evident long before she spoke aloud.
"Do I have a choice?" Zelda asked at last; though spoken lightly enough to be teasing, there was genuine affection woven into every syllable.
Astra grinned unabashedly at this response while Fallon let out an audible exhale he hadn't realized he'd been holding back.
"You'll give us your blessing then?" Astra pressed eagerly—though not without respect—as if needing confirmation beyond what had already been implied by Zelda's demeanor alone.
Zelda nodded slowly before allowing herself another warm smile—one reserved for moments like these when love triumphed over all else: duty included.
"Of course," she affirmed quietly yet firmly—and if there were any doubts left lingering within Fallon's mind about whether or not this union would be welcomed wholeheartedly by those who mattered most… they vanished entirely beneath those simple words.
But then Zelda's eyes met Astra's in an exchange so brief yet so charged that Fallon couldn't help but notice it. There was something unspoken between them—a deeper thread running beneath their shared joy—and it tugged at his certainty like an unseen current pulling at his feet.
"What is it?" he asked cautiously, suspicion laced with curiosity rather than accusation. His voice softened as he looked between them both. "There's something you're not telling me?"
Zelda's expression shifted once more—this time into something knowing but kind—and she gestured toward Astra as if inviting her to speak first.
Astra hesitated briefly before taking another small step closer to Fallon. Her fingers intertwined more tightly with his as though drawing strength from their connection.
"There's more to my story than you know," she said, her tone half serious, half jest. "We wanted to be sure before—"
"Before what?" Fallon pressed, though there was no accusation in his voice, only wonder.
"Before revealing our family secret," Zelda said, filling the silence with certainty. "Go on, Astra. He deserves to know now that he will be your husband."
Astra took a breath, and with it, she seemed to gather all the courage in the world. "My royal lineage is … complicated," she admitted, her humor laced with sincerity. "As you know, Link is my father."
Fallon blinked, uncomprehending. "Yes, you told me that," he said, confused by the obviousness of it.
"But my mother is Queen Zelda," she added, watching his reaction closely. "Not exactly from here - but from another timeline. However, for all practical purposes, Queen Zelda here is my mother, and I consider her as such."
"And I consider Astra my daughter," Queen Zelda continued.
Fallon's eyes widened, the pieces of an impossible puzzle clicking into place. "So that explains the mystery of your origin, Astra —you're …."
"The product of a sorceress named Timela's twisted magic," she finished for him. "She intended evil, but I'm alive by the grace of Goddess Hylia."
"Wow," Fallon managed, the word a vessel for a thousand different thoughts. "That is… more than I expected."
Astra squeezed his hand, her eyes searching his for doubt, for hesitation. "You understand why we kept it quiet, then?"
"Because … it's complicated?" he replied, though the tremor in his voice made it more of a confession than he intended.
"I'm sorry we kept it from you," Astra said, her joy shaded with apology.
Fallon shook his head, awestruck by the depth of what they shared. "No, I completely understand. I mean, at least I understand why trying to explain such matters would be challenging. But I'm happy you have a mother alive here to share your life with."
"So," Zelda said, bringing them back to the moment, "I suppose congratulations are in order. And we need to begin planning a wedding. That will be thrilling."
Suddenly a new voice chimed in, but only in Astra's head, unheard by everyone else. "And now you take a step closer to your destiny, Mistress. The goddess Hylia's blood runs strong, and this union brings hope for Hyrule's future."
Astra smiled but ignored Fi's enthusiasm. She could deal with Fi later about her mission and Hyrule's future. Right now, she wanted to concentrate on her own.