The sun was setting as they finally arrived at Hateno Village. The Princess of Hyrule and her appointed knight had been on the road for several weeks and were exhausted not only from their travels but also as a result of all of the various political negotiations they were both required to participate in. Rebuilding the kingdom after the fall of Calamity Ganon was proving to be as daunting of a task as defeating him in the first place.
It seemed like every individual—or at the very least: every race, class, sect, et cetera—in Hyrule had a different opinion on how the kingdom should move forward from the ‘Hundred Years of the Great Calamity’ (as the time period came to be called in history).
At any rate, it was a headache, both literally and figuratively.
The Princess, who was generally spirited and highly communicative, was as silent as her knight while the two of them made their way into the village. Their steeds trotted slowly, their heads hung low in exhaustion.
It was nearly dark when they reached Link’s little house just outside the village. He assisted the princess in dismounting her faithful white mare (whom she had named Cordelia), but not without difficulty. Zelda glanced at him once just as he reached up to help her with an arm around her waist. He winced—only barely, but she noticed, of course—as he held her full weight for a few seconds before setting her down gently.
She had opened her mouth to speak, but Link immediately proceeded to lead the horses down to the stable. Zelda stayed put and watched as he tied up the horses, offered them food and water, and stroked their manes as they whinnied at him, weakly but affectionately. He was talking to them, too, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying at all from where she stood. Zelda observed several more discreet winces as he unhooked their packs and other belongings from the horses’ saddles, setting them aside as he removed the saddles and hung them on their hooks on the wall nearby.
Link was very methodical; every movement, every action, and every step that he took had conviction and purpose. Zelda had always found this curious—and admirable—about him. He never fumbled, never second-guessed. He always knew exactly what to do, or so it seemed—and that was enough. Even when he was in pain he rarely showed it, so in seeing him now, the princess knew that something was wrong and it wasn’t insignificant.
She approached him and offered to help with carrying their things inside, which, of course, he refused. Zelda knew better than to protest, but oh, how she wanted to! His irrevocable sense of duty was getting in the way of his well-being again and the princess found it to be deeply irritating. She knew that he was achy and sore from his fight earlier against that massive Hinox. She also knew that he was injured, and, per the usual, he was trying to hide it from her.
But she knew, just as she always knew.
….She decided to leave it… for now. Quietly, she followed him into the house.
“I’ll make you some food.” Link said after he had locked the door and set down the various items that he had been carrying. He walked into the kitchen and lit a candle near the sink to provide some light.
“I’m fine.” Zelda answered, picking up her pack from the floor to retrieve the Sheikah slate and her journal.
“...You should eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Still–” he insisted, but she shot him a look.
“I’m much too tired. And I know that you are, too. If I do get hungry, I’ll have some bread. Please, go get cleaned up. I’m going to finish this letter and then head to bed.” she spoke plainly.
Link stood where he was for a moment, stuck somewhere between being annoyed by the princess’ usual obstinacy and being relieved that he wouldn’t have to cook anything. He wanted to say “It doesn’t matter if I’m tired. You haven’t eaten since breakfast. And it isn’t healthy for you to skip meals.” but his lack of energy got the best of him this time. He retrieved his pack and headed for the back door.
“I’ll be right outside.” he said.
“I know.” She had sat down at the kitchen table and was arranging her things before her. She lit the candles on the table for some additional light.
After she heard the door shut, however, she promptly got up and went to the kitchen window. She peered outside. Link’s head hung over the washbasin; his eyes were closed, and his arms shook ever so slightly as they tried to keep his body propped up.
He remained like that for a few minutes before he stood up straight, popped his neck, and shook his head in a somewhat vain attempt to shake away the violent onset of tiredness that came from being home at last and the anticipation of sleep.
Zelda watched as Link turned on the pump and began to remove layers of clothing. His gloves came off first, followed by his harnesses and belt. When it came time to pull his tunic off over his head, however, he paused mid-attempt with a sharp inhale.
He decided to take a break from that and light the fire under the washbasin so he would at least have some warm water to clean up with instead. He wished that the weather was warmer so he could just jump into the pond instead, but alas.
From her spot by the window, Zelda rolled her eyes. She decided at that moment that she refused to stand by any longer. She went to the cabinet to acquire a bowl and a few towels. Grabbing a small vial of medicine off of the shelf, she proceeded outside and without a word, filled the bowl with water from the washbasin and emptied the contents of the vial into the steaming liquid. Link eyed her. Finally, she looked back and met his eyes.
“Let me help.” she said, and she made it clear that it wasn’t a request.
Link, also, knew better than to protest.
“Raise your arms,” she commanded. He did, but he couldn’t stop the flush that rose in his cheeks as the princess firmly grasped either side of his tunic and slowly helped him navigate the fabric off of his body. Her eyes immediately locked on his left side; the red-stained fabric of his undershirt. “I knew it. I knew that it was worse than you assured me it was...” but she trailed off, very obviously fighting against her anger.
“It’s nothing.” was Link’s response, but something in Zelda’s expression prompted him to quickly add: “It’ll be fine in a few days.” The princess clenched her jaw. It’s not nothing. You’re injured. And I don’t care if it will be better in a few days. She helped him remove the undershirt, a little less carefully than before, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from swearing as a searing pain shot up and down his side.
“Sit.” she said, gesturing towards a wooden box nearby. A faint blush had also appeared in the apples of her cheeks (this was only the second time she had seen his bare upper body; the first time being before he had been sealed away within the Shrine of Resurrection, and he had been a lot less… built… back then), and Link couldn’t tell if she was just angry and some sort of lecture was bubbling under the surface, or if it was something else. He watched her silently as she rolled up her sleeves and dunked a towel into the medicinal water she had created.
“I wish… you could tell me when you’re hurting.” she said.
That calm and collected remark surprised both of them, and Link looked at her inquisitively.
“I just wish you would tell me when you’re injured so we can take care of it right away and— and— you don’t have to suffer in silence, you know? I’m here. And I can help—“
“That’s not—“
“Not what?” Zelda wrung out the towel, her knuckles turning white as she did so. “...Not what, Link?” He didn’t answer. “Not my place? Not my responsibility? Not my duty?” The muscles in Link’s jaw and neck worked to keep in a verbal affirmation that what she had said was correct in his mind. “Well, I don’t care.” She gestured for Link to raise his arm again, which he did, and she pressed the hot towel to his side. He hissed from the pain, and Zelda stared at him with an angry, languid gaze that made Link feel uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, princess.” he said, through gritted teeth, swiping his other arm across his face to shield his embarrassment. “But you don’t need to worry. I’m fine. This isn’t something to make such a big deal of; I’ve been through much worse. And I’ve always taken care of myself.”
“That’s not my point. You don’t have to—“
“It’s just part of my duty.”
That word again. That. Word. That Goddess-forsaken word! The single, solitary entity that stood between the two of them like a wall and made Zelda feel like Link was always an eternity away from her. It was a door that seemed to be shut whenever either party tried to step over the threshold. It was an awkward, empty void. A hindrance—
An obstacle.
“You don’t have to.” she repeated, in a softer tone this time. Link watched as her expression fell and she let out a long sigh. There was more that he felt that he should say—argue his point further— But what was his point, exactly? He pressed his lips together. Zelda’s face was unreadable as she continued to clean his wound.
There was an odd change of atmosphere that occurred within the few minutes of relative silence that followed. A cricket song could be heard from somewhere in the distance… Fireflies floated in the darkness above the pond and a soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees on the cliff above. The princess felt her apprehension melt away, gradually, and it showed in her features as she carefully applied medicine to her knight’s side.
Link shivered.
He was staring at her, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. His eyes followed the smooth expanse of the princess’ forehead, across her thick brows that were knitted in concentration and down the bridge of her small nose. In the low light, her eyes were the color of moss that grew along a riverbed; veiled by a golden halo of lashes that fluttered as she proceeded to bandage his wound with tender care.
She’s beautiful.
Her lips slightly parted as she let out another sigh—
Link snapped from his moment of stupor just as Zelda looked up at him. He pointedly averted his gaze, finding a suitably uninteresting fence post a little ways off to focus his attention on instead.
She pressed a warm towel to a spot on his forehead, just above his eyebrow. “How did you get this cut?”
He shrugged.
“It’s going to scar.”
“I have a lot of those.” he answered, further brushing it off. His curt answers often annoyed Zelda, who much preferred to be verbose, but she knew that was just who her knight was… and she tried not to chide him for it. She did not expect him to change that about himself, but deep down, she so very much desired it. More often than not, his simplicity had far outweighed the lack of conversation, but that was… before. Things felt different now. And Zelda wanted to hear anything and everything that he had to say.
With her free hand, Zelda brushed her thumb over a scar on the right side of Link’s jaw. It was a small scar; a thin, raised white line about an inch long that ran perpendicular to his jaw, right at the base of his ear. She felt him shrug off a shiver as she stroked the sensitive skin there with her thumb. To her surprise, he let her.
“Fishhook.” he said, thickly.
Zelda blinked. “...What?”
“That scar was from a fishing accident… Not one of my better stories.” She giggled, and he smiled, relieved that he was able to further hide the color that was rising in his cheeks.
But she was looking at his lips then, and he couldn’t seem to stop his gaze from wandering to her face again. Her thumb touched his bottom lip, pulling it down gently. Link’s heart dropped in his chest when he remembered the scar that was there, on his lip. Oh, that. He opened his mouth to speak, intending to say something about the scar, but suddenly Zelda was closing the gap between her lips and his and the ability to form words in his mind escaped him. She stopped when her face was mere centimeters from his and he forgot how to breathe entirely. Looking up at him, she smiled.
“…How does someone get a scar on their lip?” She chuckled softly, “...is there any savory answer to that question?”
He desperately reached for the words. “I– I don’t—remember—“ But he didn’t have to struggle anymore because her mouth was on his and he let out a breath into the kiss that was not only an overwhelming amount of immense relief but also an unfathomable amount of affection for his princess.
The kiss itself was brief; Zelda angled her head slightly so that she could kiss that tiny scar she had pointed out. Unlike the one on his jawline, this one was pink and smooth. Her eyes caught movement on his neck when he swallowed dryly; another scar bobbed along the surface of his skin as his Adam’s apple moved up and down. Without even thinking twice about it, she ducked down to kiss him there, too. Link’s hands moved to her upper arms, holding her gently, but pushing her back a little. They locked eyes again and before Link felt that he should say something, Zelda said:
“If you insist upon ‘doing your duty,’ then you must allow me to fulfill mine as well.” She moved to press her lips near the fresh cut on his forehead, the pink spot on his lower lip, and to the white line on his jaw... He was intoxicated by her—her everything—her lips, her skin, her scent, her voice. She was warm and gentle and she was here. He was just too tired to fight his own inhibitions anymore, and he let himself slip away.
Link closed his eyes; his grip on Zelda’s arms loosening as she continued to speak: “...Each of your scars is a precious monument erected in remembrance of Hyrule’s fall to the evils of the Calamity, and in celebration of our inevitable rise that is all but upon the horizon… And as this land’s crowned princess and future queen, it is my duty to pay reverence to each and every mark that the goddesses have deigned to be left upon you.”
It was too much. He felt as if he was quite literally on fire; his skin burned everywhere that she touched. “Princess—“ he breathed, unable to say anything else.
“Zelda.”
“Zelda…” But he found that he had simply lost the ability to think of words to say, much less say them. He sighed as her lips continued to travel from place to place and all he knew was warmth that came over him in waves and a wildfire that coursed through his veins until his mind and heart were racing, set free, entwining itself between an intense love for this woman and utter exhaustion from the various activities of the day. Eventually, he was entirely lost.
The night was far advanced by the time Zelda felt that she had, sufficiently, fulfilled her duties. And the princess, persuasive as she was, coaxed the knight into participating as well.
That night, the hero lost a battle, and he found the repercussions to be swift, and sweet, and altogether memorable.....
hi friends! this one is a five plus one fic that I wrote as a gift for @eventid1ngs. It is pure fluff!! tooth rottingly sweet fluff!! It's "five times Zelda caught Link sleeping somewhere he shouldn't, and one time Link caught Zelda". The beginning is below, and you can read the full thing here on ao3!
1. The Goddess Statue
The first time that Zelda caught Link sleeping somewhere he shouldn’t have been was actually the first time they met- odd, considering she had thought she knew all the children on Skyloft.
She hadn’t been expecting anyone to be near the goddess statue- there wasn’t really much there to see, aside from the statue itself, and no one had a reason to see that outside of ceremonies. It was one of her favorite places- the courtyard was so pretty, and so quiet, and there was no one to get upset at an eight year old for being too loud or too clumsy or just… not an adult. She didn’t have to grow up just yet, not when she was by the statue, because no one was around to care if she behaved like a child.
And yet, that day, someone was there.
She didn’t realize it was a person, at first. The faint rumbling sound echoed off of old stone, disturbing the divine silence surrounding the statue. Naturally, she assumed it was some kind of monster. It was getting dark, after all, and everyone knew Skyloft wasn’t really safe after the sun went down.
Or perhaps, the thought occurred to her, it was the goddess. The sound was coming from the direction of the statue. Zelda stepped closer. Was this what people meant, when they said that the goddess spoke to them?
“Excuse me,” she said, voice still quiet, still a bit hesitant because what if it was a monster? Sure, she knew how to fight in theory. Her father was the headmaster of the Knight’s Academy, and you didn’t live around someone like that without picking up a thing or two. But she was, unfortunately, still a child, and any monster that had found its way up here would likely make short work of her.
But… if it was the goddess… shouldn’t she at least try to listen?
“Hello?” she asked, a little louder now, and her voice bounced off the walls alongside that strange rumble.
It’s funny, she thought, creeping closer. It almost sounds like someone is-
A boy roughly as old as she was laid curled up against the base of the statue, eyes closed and chest rising and falling steadily.
-snoring.
Her trepidation vanished, replaced by annoyance. This was her hiding place, not his! That silly… sleepy… stinky boy needed to leave!
(Not that she really knew he was stinky, but boys were all stinky, and this one was the stinkiest of all for taking her hiding spot.)
“Hey!” she yelled, and the boy sat up with a gasp, eyes wide with alarm. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
He stared at her blankly, then looked around as though he hadn’t quite remembered where he was. “I’m… sorry?”
She knew it should have helped, but the apology didn’t make her feel any less annoyed. “Why did you say that like a question?” she snapped. “You’re not sorry at all, are you?”
The boy flushed, then ran a hand through his hair. “No- I mean, yes- I mean I am sorry I just… didn’t know this place was off limits?”
“I… well it’s not, technically, but…”
“Oh.” He looked confused- goddess, was he somehow still sleepy after her wake up call? “Then… why do I need to be sorry?”
Oh no. She didn’t really have a reason, did she? Because it was her spot, but her father always said that good children were supposed to share, and she guessed that meant this boy hadn’t really done anything wrong.
But she was still annoyed, and now a bit embarrassed as well, so instead of backing down she shrieked, “BECAUSE YOU’RE GETTING COOTIES ON THE GODDESS!”
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