A Scorpion in the Sky

Link flew his Loftwing to the small isle Zelda was sitting on. Her own beloved bird wheeled lazy spirals below. After Link dismounted, the two Loftwings circled the isle together.

“Link! What are you doing all the way out here?” Zelda said, sliding over so Link could sit beside her, their legs dangling over the isle’s edge. She longed to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Just out for a flight,” he said, smiling softly. “I saw you here all alone, so . . .”

“Oh? Practicing for the Wing Ceremony?”

Link ducked his head, a blush spreading over his face. “Well . . . uh . . . Not really, no.”

“But you don’t have much time!”

“Hey, the ceremony is still months away! I have plenty of time.”

“Yeah, that's true.” Zelda hugged the harp to her chest and gazed out at the sky. Skyloft was a speck in the sky, the gray of the Goddess statue fading into the clouds. She’d originally been practicing for her role in the Wing Ceremony at the base of the statue, but the weight of that dominating presence had driven her to the outer isles.

“Zelda?” Link’s voice brought her mind back to the present.

“Hm? Sorry, just lost in thought.” Zelda’s hands tightened on her harp, and she held it up to show Link. The gold surface glinted in the late afternoon sunlight. “I’ve been practicing for my part as the Goddess!”

She still hadn’t finished sewing the sailcloth for the ceremony. Maybe she should be focusing on that instead of the music, as she didn’t really need the practice with that familiar instinct brimming inside her.

“What’s that involve again?” Link asked, running his hands sheepishly through his hair.

“You don’t even remember that much? You really aren’t taking this ceremony seriously!” But Zelda giggled at Link’s bashful face. Like he had said, they both still had plenty of time. “Hey, why don’t I just teach you the song! Father always says the best way to really understand something is to teach it to others.”

Zelda demonstrated the proper placement of the harp against his body and the strings his fingers should rest on. Her face and ears warmed as she held his hands, her thumb brushing over his sword callouses. Luckily Link’s attention was on the instrument and not her. 

“Relax your wrist. And lower your elbow a bit more—yes, just like that!”

She showed him a basic eight-note melody. After several attempts and missed notes, he got the rhythm and played the simple song without needing her corrections.

“Wow! Nice job, Link!” Zelda clapped her hands as Link grinned and blushed deeper.

He played for a few more minutes, stumbling but sincere. Unbidden, Zelda hummed along, closing her eyes and letting herself fall into the sound of the music and the feel of sunlight and soft breeze on her skin.

Link finished playing, and the last note faded away. Zelda opened her eyes and found him staring at her. Butterflies invaded her stomach, and her hands hurried to brush the loose strands of hair out of her face. He passed the harp back to her, and she took it as her stomach settled, grateful for the distraction. Zelda ran her hands over the wing design on the instrument’s body. Had it warmed from being in Link’s hands, or was that just her imagination?

“Hey, Link, after the Wing Ceremony’s over, would you be interested in more harp lessons?” Zelda asked, her eyes on the horizon. “I’d really love to do a duet with you.”

He brightened. “Yeah, I’d love that. But . . . how come after the ceremony?”

Zelda jumped to her feet and tapped him on the head. “Because you still need to practice with your Loftwing!”