#aries writes

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Aglow in the soft morning light, Zelda woke him up for the very first time. His heart had nearly stopped when he opened his eyes and saw her at his side, as his wife. Of all the most unbelievable things that'd happened to him, this was by far the greatest.

That small, pleased smile was on her lips as she looked at him. A sheet was demurely pinned to her chest and her dark hair spilled over the pillows, tickling his shoulder in a way that made his stomach tighten.

He reached out to cradle her cheek, exalting in the softness of it, in the way her mouth soundlessly parted to shape an "oh."

As he watched his thumb sweep across her bottom lip, he thought back to the night before. The way those lips had kissed him, the way her mouth had parted with noises he'd never expected to hear from her and words he'd never thought she'd say.

Zelda loved him. The affirmation pulled the earth out from under him.

"Good morning, Zelda."

His morning voice was hoarse and rugged, making goosebumps erupt over her skin. She didn't know such a small thing could make her feel so flustered.

When her smile stretched, his thumb slid to the corner of her lips, but his hand still held her cheek and he was still looking at her like he couldn't believe she was really there.

"Will you continue to call me by my name now that we're wed?"

He paused to think. "What would you like me to call you?"

His hand dropped to her sternum when Zelda reclined on the mattress and did an endearing little stretch. Humming thoughtfully, she angled herself between facing him and looking up at the canopy.

"I wouldn't mind it either way. It's just that some couples use terms of endearment."

A sheepish grin found his lips, but he shrugged in a nonchalant, boyish type of way. "I can. I just like saying your name."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, I was nervous when you first said I could." She flashed him a curious look, and so he explained, "It felt sort of - well, I don't know, forbidden."

"'Forbidden?'"

A flustered chuckle escaped him, though he managed to squash it down to a smile. "I was just waiting for them to throw me back in the dungeon."

Zelda laughed, causing Link's laughter to burst free of its feeble restraints. She shook her head, but there was love in her eyes.

"I like it when you say my name, too."

His amusement faltered in favor of his fluster. As his expression softened, his eyes traveled back to her mouth, like it had its own gravitational pull.

"Zelda."

She took a trembling breath.

And then he was moving - carefully, methodically, as if in slow motion. One arm perched onto her pillow and the other reached around to the other side, framing her head and dragging the covers with him.

With a dip of his head, he kissed her. He was tender, moving against her with slow, careful strokes and the gentle rocking of his hips, and Zelda dreamily moved with him.

His fingers were teasing the locks at her hairline, and the ticklish touch made her smile against him. Keen to return the favor, her hands threaded around his shoulders to the nape of his neck. It drew a shiver from him.

He separated from her slowly, eyes lidded and dazed.

"I love you, Zelda," he murmured. "You know that?"

"I believe I heard that somewhere."

He shook his head with a grin.

"Any thoughts?"

"Hmm?"

Dropping his forehead to hers, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "About me loving you."

"Oh..." There was a pause where she pretended to think about it. "Only that I love you too."

Link let out a soft breath that, if she were not nose to nose with him, she might've not heard. He leaned against her cheek before planting a soft kiss on it, then dragged his lips towards her neck.

It drew the most pleased, exalted sigh from her, and she was smiling dreamily while she angled her head to help.

"Link," she sighed. "You know I'll have to get up eventually."

"Mmm, maybe tomorrow."

"What about all the paperwork?"

"We can hide it." He paused. "Or burn it."

Zelda laughed incredulously.

"Do you intend to keep me here all day?"

"…Is that an option?"

She managed to flip him onto his back. She wasn't quite straddling him, but she was hovering above him at his side and her legs were brushing his. Link could only look up at her with wonder.

Zelda looked like a statue, draped in the white sheet and perfectly sculpted, with her hair falling to the side like a shimmering curtain.

But there was a pretty pink color to her pale cheeks and shoulders that showed she was very much made of flesh and not stone.

"I have duties to attend to," she stated matter-of-factly.

"What if we just run away?"

Another laugh escaped her.

"You've been prince for a day and already you're willing to step down?"

He smiled handsomely. "I made it that far?"

She couldn't help it: she kissed him again. Really, Zelda thought she could kiss him forever if they had the time.

But to her surprise, his hand started to move up her side, sliding ever so slowly over the rippling white cotton sheet. It stopped below her armpit and coiled to rest gently on her upper back.

Then his finger carefully, and yet daringly, dipped into the makeshift neckline.

Her breath caught. Just the light graze of his knuckle against her bare skin made her knees weak.

"Do you really have to go?"

She surprised herself by stopping to consider it. Every day came with new stacks of paperwork and meetings that she had to spend hours upon hours trudging through. It was part of her role as the queen of a large and bountiful kingdom.

But when she thought about it, she realized there wasn't anything particularly pressing that day. There were no court proceedings or petitions, and her meetings weren't scheduled until the early afternoon.

And the pile of paperwork wasn't going anywhere, that was for certain.

No one would fault her for staying in just an hour or so.

For a second, she pondered whether it was scheduled that way intentionally. Did her advisor know it'd be impossible to get out of bed the morning after their wedding? The thought made her blush.

"No," she said at last, breathless. "Not yet."

Link swallowed. His gaze bore into hers, trying to determine whether she wanted to stay a little longer.

But she truly did. Her body was thrumming with unsated desire, and just looking at Link warm and tousled in their bed made her want to pick up right where they left off last night.

To prove herself, she unraveled her fist around the sheet. He drew a breath, his gaze caught on the slight movement. Like the fall of a feather, it slid down her body and fell languidly to the mattress around her.

Zelda was utterly bare beneath. Though he knew she was, the sight had his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

While last night she was bathed in firelight, now she was aglow in the gentle daylight streaming in through the voile curtains. Her figure was haloed by a white glow, highlighting her wispy, disheveled hair.

He could see her so clearly now, could make out every color on her skin and in her hair. He was startled by how infinitely beautiful she was.

As his bashful gaze found hers, Link pushed himself up to sit with her. His pulse was thrumming uncontrollably and he silently urged it to settle.

"You're beautiful," he murmured with more air than voice. He'd said it last night and he'd say it again. It was impossible not to, when struck by the blatant fact over and over.

It set butterflies free in her stomach. Zelda found herself reaching for him and took hold of his broad shoulders. Shuffling forward, she straddled his lap and captured his lips.

Link drew a surprised breath as their lips collided before his eyes fluttered closed and his hands fanned over her bare back. He let out a sated sigh.

It was like he was basking in sunlight: her gentle warmth bathed his skin and coursed throughout his entire body.

A hand moved upwards until he was gently holding the back of her head. Strands of her chestnut hair poured over the back of his hand, sifting like sand between his fingers. She let her head fall back into his palm, exalting in its gentle cradle.

When Zelda parted from him, Link whispered in earnest, "I wish we could stay like this forever…" His eyes dropped to her lips. "I'd kiss you all day if I could."

"Among other things, I'm sure," she cheekily replied.

His cheeks darkened, but he smiled: he wasn't going to deny it.

"I want to make you feel good. Seeing you like that last night..." He shuddered with pleasure, and Zelda felt it rake through her body. "I'd do anything to see you like that again."

They've only shared a bed for a night, but already Link seemed quite talkative in it. It was a delightful surprise.

Enthused by his declaration, she kissed him deeply, passionately. Her tongue dipped past his parted lips and teased his with quick, light movements. The slick contact was exhilarating; it had them reeling for more.

Link's hand coiled around and covered her breast. Just the light touch made him groan, his eyes clenching shut. Her breast was incredibly silky smooth and malleable, pliable to his groping and gentle tugging.

Zelda moaned softly into his mouth. For her, the pleasure was only enhanced by the fact that it was Link doing this.

It was the kind and gentle rancher growing hard against her thigh; it was the strong, unwavering hero moaning into her mouth. It was the man she loved dearly who was touching her like she were pretty and desirable.

The thought was incomparable.

When they parted, Link's gaze danced over her face. There was clearly something on his mind, but she was oblivious to it, looking at him doe-eyed and breathless.

She figured it out only moments later when he dipped his head and took her untouched breast into his mouth. Zelda gasped, taken off guard by the wet seal of his lips as he began to gently suckle on her nipple.

His hand splayed over the middle of her back, keeping her steady while simultaneously pushing her further into him.

Shutting her eyes, she grimaced and moaned, unable to bear the pleasure. She pressed the back of her hand to her lips in a lame effort to muffle all the indecent noises she was making.

Considering the soft noises emitting from him, Link was more than content to remain latched onto her breast, but the mounting pleasure left Zelda in need of more.

Without much thought, she rolled her hips and slid her wet core along his thigh.

"Oh gods," Link gasped, the sudden exclamation cutting off his ministrations. "You're so wet."

Her face turned bright red in embarrassment, but Link's eyes were swirling with both desire and amazement.

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes."

Zelda shifted herself off his thigh, and his hand slithered between their bodies, tickling her stomach. At the first touch, they shared in a sharp inhale. His fingers danced over the bud she introduced him to last night before he tentatively started to stroke it.

"Does that feel good?" he asked softly, his eyes flitting between hers.

"Mmm…yes…"

Slowly, he slid further down her seam and gently teased her entrance. She was already wet enough to coat his fingers, and when he pressed into her, his finger easily dipped into her wet passage. He suppressed a groan as it slid all the way in.

"What about this?"

Zelda tightly shut her lips and nodded, trying to regain control. But already she was lost to his touch. Though he used just one of his fingers, it was thicker and longer than hers, filling her better, and the rough calluses were far more stimulating.

Carefully, he began to pump his finger in and out of her. He guided her head to rest on his shoulder, gently combing through her hair, as Zelda rolled her hips in time with his thrusts.

"That's it," he coaxed.

There was something indecent about the way he spoke, as if he were soothing his mare. It was unintentional, she knew, but it still made her cheeks flare up in embarrassment.

"Please." She wasn't exactly sure what she was asking for. She just wanted more.

He rested his cheek against her hair and asked her softly, in earnest, "Do you want another?"

She nodded against him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Yes…"

Readily, he slid another finger inside, and it emitted a wet sound that made his stomach tighten. He began to thrust again, savoring the heat and tightness of her passage. He wanted to burn the shape of her passage into his mind, to commit every spot that made her buck her hips to memory.

Suddenly, his fingers slid out of her and back through her folds, diverging to either side of her clitoris. The slickness of his fingers made it easier to tease her. Her hips involuntarily jerked up with a powerful shudder and Zelda sprang off his shoulder.

Her voice jumped. "Link."

"Is that good?"

Zelda nodded again, and so he doubled down and quickened his movements. Already, she was close. Intense pleasure was building within her, curling her toes and stealing her breath.

Her lips were tightly pressed as she rocked against his hand, forgetting her shame and chasing her pleasure instead.

Then, it happened.

With a cry, Zelda arched and threw her head back. Entranced, Link could only watch in amazement. She wrapped her legs around his hardened chest and grinded against it in a desperate search for friction.

"Zelda...!" he choked out.

The feeling of her hot, sweaty body writhing against him was too intense. Pleasure shot through him in a sudden, sharp jolt, making him fear he'd climax. But by some miracle, he managed to grit his teeth and suppress it.

It helped that Zelda started to come down from her peak, and her intense quivering waned into the occasional spasm. As she tried to catch her breath, she slackened around him, releasing the tight hold she had on his body.

There was a moment of stillness as Zelda settled down, when Link simply gazed upon her with absolute awe.

"I'll never get used to that," he murmured at last.

"What do you mean?"

"Just-" When he started to clarify, his face turned bright red. He'd blurted out the words before realizing how perverse they were. "You look so pretty when you…you know."

Her mouth fell open. "L-Link…" she stammered.

Zelda was surprised to hear Link say something of that caliber, and judging by his face, which had reddened to the point that it seemed like steam was coming off his cheeks, he was equally surprised to admit it. And yet, despite the indecency of his words, her blood ran hot.

Taking hold of his cheeks, she angled his head towards his shoulder and weaved in to catch his lips. The lustful breath she emitted, matched with their proximity, made him groan. She kissed him again and again, leaving him chasing her lips with soft grunts and furrowed brows.

Then, Zelda started to drag a hand down his chest, grazing him gently with her fingertips. He stiffened, his breath drawn. He quickly figured out where she was headed, and it took a great deal of control not to break the kiss.

When she found his lap, her hand gently wrapped around his shaft. It was stiff and aching between his legs, so desperate for her touch that he immediately bucked up into it. He gasped then, unable to help it, and cut an end to their stream of kisses.

Keeping her hold light, she slowly started to stroke him. He bit his lip, trying desperately to hold back the shameful sounds climbing up his throat. But he couldn't stop the way his hips canted up to match every slide of her hand.

When her hand twisted to the underside of his member and swept up to the tip, he shuddered. Zelda smiled.

"Would you like to hear what I enjoyed?"

Breath shallow, his eyes dropped to her lips. He had no idea what she was talking about. "What…?"

"You told me you enjoyed watching me finish." His blush returned with a vengeance. That certain detail, which would haunt him later for sure, had briefly slipped his mind. "Now it's my turn to confide."

Almost afraid to hear it, Link stammered, "W-What is it?"

She removed her hand from him, leaving him bucking up with need. Wide-eyed, he made the most endearing, confused noise.

Zelda leaned in, her lips lightly brushing his cheek, and whispered dangerously, "When you finished inside of me."

Just from her words, Link felt a rush of pleasure. An intense shudder raked through him, and he was suddenly relieved that she stopped stroking him. It might've been enough to end it right there.

"I did too…"

"I want you to do it again."

Link swore for the first time in front of her. Judging by her amused smile, though, she wasn't offended.

"Zelda…" He groaned. "But – well, aren't you worried about getting pregnant?"

Admittedly, Link only barely registered that particular concern last night. And to be perfectly honest, the thought of having a child with her made him happier than it should, considering they had just wed.

But he felt like he should ask anyway: he wanted to be responsible.

Her eyes lidded and locked on his lips. "It's okay," she murmured. "I've been taking a contraceptive elixir."

He didn't know what to say to that. It was strangely arousing. When did she start taking that exactly?

"I want you," she said, effectively intersecting his train of thought. "Please. Don't make me wait any longer."

Quiet, hoarse, and a little bit desperate, he whined, "I want you too."

Her small smile softened. Link placed his hands on her hips to steady her as she pushed herself up and guided his member to her entrance.

Just the initial contact, in which his hard tip slid over her soft, wet folds, sent a jolt through them both. Holding their breath, their gazes snapped to one another.

"Go slow," he warned, brows furrowed with concern. Despite his overwhelming desire, he couldn't help but worry about the pain she felt the night before. "I don't want to hurt you."

Zelda nodded. But as she eased down onto his member, she didn't feel that sharp pain. There was only a strange stretching sensation as she acclimated to having him inside her.

As his large, thick member flooded her tight, warm passage, every nerve between them was stimulated. Her moan lingered during the slow descent towards his lap until she was suddenly filled, and her mouth fell open with a gasp.

"Are you okay?" Link said, strained.

His eyes searched her face to discern whether that was a gasp of pain or pleasure. But Zelda could only nod.

"How do you feel?"

"So full," she gasped.

Her words made Link groan.

"Zelda."

Shaking her hair off her shoulders, she started to move. It was just a slow grind of her hips, but it was enough to make them light-headed. He could only watch in amazement, his eyes wide and lips parted.

But staring wasn't enough for her. Her hands flattened on either side of his head and brought his face close to hers. Their eyes were locked and their gaping mouths hovered only an inch apart, allowing their quick, hot breaths to gather in the space between.

And then, Zelda tilted his head and pressed his open mouth to hers. Their tongues flattened against one another before twirling around each other, and the slick tangle of nerves sent pleasure surging through them both.

Suddenly, she pushed herself up on her knees and sank down on him. The new angle and the depth to which he reached caused her to break off their kiss with a broken cry.

"Z-Zelda," he said with a grunt.

He peered at her through creased eyes as she repeated the motion, over and over, pushing herself up his length before impaling herself again.

"It feels so good, Link." Her voice had a heady, sultry air, and her breathing was getting shallower. Her usual eloquent, flowery speech seemed to evade her, leaving her to simply say what she felt. "You feel so good."

"You do too," he groaned. "You're so tight."

"Link," she moaned. "You feel so good inside me. Please, just stay inside me."

Gasping, he swore again. "I wish I could live inside you."

"Link..!"

She started to bounce harder and harder, their skin smacking loudly with every fall of her hips. The movements made her long, dark hair spring behind her and her pert breasts bounce.

He slid a hand up until it cupped a breast, then guided it to his mouth. Zelda gasped, watching him gently lap her nipple with his tongue. Link's eyes were locked with hers as he relished the erotic look on her face.

Between her deep red cheeks, her open mouth, and her glazed eyes, she looked properly undone. Even the sweat made her skin gleam and her damp hair stick to her temples.

It was too much and yet not enough: he needed to go faster. He tore off her breast to look at her properly, pleadingly, and took hold of her hips.

Zelda didn't protest when he lifted her and laid her down, causing her beautiful chestnut hair to fan around her on the pillow and her pale blue eyes to blink up at him in question.

One hand tightened around her hip while the other took hold of his member. It was when his gaze flashed to her for approval that she understood and gave her nod of assent.

As he slowly slid inside her, her breath caught. She clung tightly to his upper arm. While it wasn't painful, his thick head still posed quite the intrusion, stretching her open. After the first few experimental strokes, he rammed her to the hilt, hitting her in a spot they'd discovered together last night.

Zelda's eyes rolled back as she threw her head onto the pillow. "Link!" she cried brokenly. His member filled her perfectly, reaching the very depths of her.

Planting his hand on the pillow, he began to move his hips. It made stars explode behind her eyes. Zelda's hand flew back and grabbed the headboard, nearly afraid she'd snapped a piece off. They were shaking the mattress, their bodies rocking up and down from the deep, intense thrusts.

With every slam of his hips, she cried out, emitting a symphony of the most erotic noises. He could listen to it all day long. His gaze held hers, swirling with intense passion and unbridled desire, taking in the inward curve of her brows, the dew of sweat rolling down her temple, the way her lips quivered.

Goddesses, he loved her. Every part, every inch - everything.

He leaned forward and captured her lips, kissing her languidly, in perfect contrast to the fast movement of his hips. Her eyes shut, welling with unshed tears.

She felt his love encapsulate her, holding her like a warm embrace. Pleasure formed like a knot in her core that was waiting to be unraveled.

"I love you," she gasped.

Link's forehead dropped to hers, his brows furrowing.

"Zelda," he said, wavering with emotion. "I love you so much."

"I'm close," she said. "I'm so close."

"Come, Zelda," he panted. "Please."

"Come with me, Link." She was pleading now, a whimper laced in her voice. Such a lustful plea, falling from Zelda's lips, was more than enough encouragement. "Please - Link!"

Like a tight coil, she snapped and came undone. With a burst of her voice, she arched off the mattress and clenched unbearably tight around his member. Ecstasy surged through her for the second time that morning.

The feeling of her wrapped so tightly around him, with her hot, tense body pressed to his, was more than he could handle. Link succumbed to his orgasm right on top of hers.

Groaning through gritted teeth, he bore down, his hips ramming deep within her as he slowed to a stop. Both his hearing and sight went blank and dissolved into a white light. He twitched as his seed spilled inside her, and the warm feeling made her shudder.

When the last of the pleasure abated, his gaze refocused on her. Her head was thrown back on the pillow, her eyes glazed over in a daze. He felt himself going soft within her, so he slowly eased out, allowing some of his seed to trickle out of her. The sight made him groan.

At last, Zelda stirred. Her eyes fluttered as she looked at him as if waking from a daze before they softened with a smile. Link's face was open in shock and awe, and his arms trembled to keep himself from collapsing atop her.

Sliding her hands back to his shoulders, she pulled him towards her and guided him to lie at her side. Their legs were entangled, and their sweaty skin stuck together at every point of contact. He had a musk infused with pine that she found herself breathing in.

The brief silence gave way to the early birds in the palace gardens. The twitter of songbirds and the sharp call of the bluejays outside their window only made them more at ease.

"Wow," Link exhaled at last.

For some reason, the short exclamation made her smile.

"My thoughts exactly."

Flustered, he took hold of her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. Her eyes fluttered and she found herself blushing girlishly.

"I love you," he said yet again. But Zelda would never tire of hearing it.

"And I love you."

Soft and tender, her hand moved to graze his cheek. Sadness crept in, considering she had to get up and leave his side. Such a pleasurable morning made it harder to say goodbye, but she'd delayed the inevitable enough. With a saddened sigh, she peeled off him and slipped out of the covers.

"But I really must go - before they send out a search party."

Link frowned, but he didn't try to fight it: he had to go to work too. Still, he held onto her hand until she was too far away to reach.

Though the bed already felt colder without her, Link couldn't help but marvel at how his young wife stumbled around the room, coyly swathed in the white sheet with tousled hair, and at the patter of her bare feet across the plush carpet.

She disappeared behind her partition while Link swept his fingers through his hair. He'd just swung his legs over the bedside when a thought returned to him.

"Zelda?"

She hummed in question from behind the screen.

"When-" he blushed, flustered, but urged himself to ask, "When did you start taking that elixir?"

Zelda emerged from the screen in a slip while pulling her arm through a matching robe. His eyes flitted down her body. Something about her like this made his heart flip. Comfortable and intimate - at home.

While she untucked her hair from the collar, she smiled wickedly and strode towards him. Draping her arms over his shoulders, she leaned forward to give him a dizzying kiss.

Just as she pulled away, she murmured lowly, dangerously, "I will never tell."

Link's stomach tightened.

"Zelda…?" he cried.

The book he had been thoroughly immersed in now slipped from his grasp as sleep crept from the shadows. Preying on his mind, slowly drowning him in the comfort of the cushions beneath him.

He would go willingly, perhaps, if he were relaxed enough.

But he could hear the soft patter of padded feet through the apartment; An undercurrent of noise not many could hear. Enhanced senses aside, he didn’t trust those footsteps, not one bit. Because every time those noises started up, those cats got into something.

Those cats were always in one thing or another.

There were also sounds missing from the usual rotation. No humming, no soft singing, no larger footsteps heard. He didn’t trust that silence either.

No doubt, the two were related. The silence and the soft cat- steps.

The undercurrents in the rain.

He let out a soft ‘oomph’ as she flopped down, knocking the air out of his belly. Hands coming up instinctively, grasping gently at her shoulders.

One mystery solved, at least.

YN propped her elbow up on his chest, leaning her chin to it. His eyes peeked open, eyebrow raised in question.

She sighed dramatically, her body heaving against his own. He adjusted carefully, so he could watch from over the swell of his chest.

“I’m bored.” YN whined. Cheeks misshapen from the pressure of her palm, pushing against her flesh.

“Hi bored, I’m Bucky.”

“Bucket.” She fell face forward into his chest. He chuckled at the nickname, the reverberations traveling to her skin, a tingling creeping just underneath.

He brought his hands around, brushing along her back gently. Fingertips pressing here and there. Traveling up her neck and into her hair, palm cupping the back of her head. Cradling her warmth closely against him.

“I can’t stop the rain, love.” He regrettably informed, nails scratching her scalp. Slowly. Sleepily.

A pleased sigh escaped her nose, causing her to nuzzle deeper to his chest.

YN knew it to be true: no matter how many promises of the world and declarations ending with the phrase ‘anything is yours, say the word’.

Bucky couldn’t stop the natural forces of the earth.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t in his playbook.

He could, however, cure her boredom in no time. Assuming he ever peeled himself away from the couch long enough to entertain her.

“Yeah but we can do something while it’s raining.” YN insisted, attempting to nudge him in the direction she wanted.

He fell quiet, simply sitting in their silence. Nothing but the rain between them; Thunder rolling outside. Always one of his favorite ambient sounds.

Though it made YN indefinitely bored and restless.

She liked the sunshine.

He liked the rain.

“What do you suggest, then?” Bucky asked, voice low and gravely. Basking in the warming comfort she had brought to him.

“That’s what I was asking you.” She mumbled, her voice muffled. Bucky shrugged his shoulders, jostling her head.

She huffed, slightly irritated by his amicableness. Bucky ignored it, pulling her closer, squeezing tightly.

“Well, what are you reading, then?”

“Good Omens. It’s not bad, actually.” He lifted a hand from her back to inspect the cover, for the seventh time. The swirling letters and thick, bold writing, all glittering a matte gold against a black background. Matching his left arm almost perfectly. “The girl at the book store suggested it.”

“Ugh.” YN rolled over, settling her back against him. Her head propped up, staring at him upside down. Her body tense— a deep scowl on her lips.

It was no secret YN didn’t care for the clerk at the bookstore. It had been an older woman, in the beginning of Bucky’s adventures to the store. But then, she fell and broke her arm, so her granddaughter was helping out while she rested.

The woman shamelessly flirted— throwing compliments and reaching out to brush fingertips any chance she could. A bashful smile with a flush, high in her cheeks.

An innocent act.

Please.

YN knew from experience that Bucky didn’t fall for the doe eyes or ‘weak ankles’ jig.

She would have to do so much better than that pathetic excuse to win her man over. Because Bucky liked women forged in fire, dripping molten iron in their grip. He liked a snarl, laced with blood— a hard earned, blue ribbon of resilience and resistance.

He liked grit. He liked steel.

And her frilly little flowers were no match for Yn’s sharp teeth.

“Oh, relax.” Bucky smiled— a broad strip of pearly white. Crinkling smile lines making an appearance on his face. He placed the book gently on her belly, his thumbs raising to the corners of her mouth, lifting into a forced smile. “You’re the only one I’ve got, baby.”

“I know.” YN assured, quickly. “It just bothers me that you can’t see the obvious flirting she throws at you.”

“I see it, I don’t engage with it.” Bucky clarified, cupping her face. Leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Come here. Get settled in.”

He reclaimed the book, holding his arms out as she wriggled around on his lap to get in position. Her knees up, around his waist, sitting on his lap. Hands pressed to his Adonis Belt as she grinned.

“You gonna read to me?” A cocked eyebrow, teasing interrogation on her face.

“Of course.”

YN let out a ‘hmph’ as she slumped back down into his body, stretching her legs down the length of his, curling herself between him and the back of the couch. Nestling into the warmth he had already created.

Bucky reached over and pulled the blanket from the back. Tucking it around her securely. Curling his arm around her body, opening the book with both hands.

YN hummed happily. A breath of laughter escaped Bucky’s mouth.

The pattering paws had returned, the sound likened to that of the pattering of rain on the windows. Only this time, two bundles of fur leapt up to the couch.

A pure white cat with bright green eyes sank her dulled claws into Bucky’s legs as she settled. The other, a mottled tabby with mismatched eyes found her way under the blanket. Huddling her body to Yn’s feet.

Suddenly interested in the movement under the blanket, Alpine’s brilliant eyes followed Chia’s wriggling. Lining up, wiggling her tail before playfully pouncing on her sister.

“Don’t smother Alpine and Chia.” YN warned, the two cats moving turbulently across her legs.

“Well, they shouldn’t be at our feet, then.” Bucky responded, lowering the book so that he could see the cats. “Ladies, if you’d join us for the first annual book club meeting.”

YN giggled as the two felines crawled up between them. Alpine snuggled into the crack of the sofa, settling in the curve of her side. Chia burrowed down beside Bucky. Her head resting on the crook of his arm, on his chest; Her body nestled in his armpit.

Bucky hummed quietly, allowing all the girls to settle in.

Thunder cracking loudly, as lightning flashed through the windows. Yn’s fuzzy socks brushed along his legs as she curled around him. Her steady heartbeat against his side. Thudding relentlessly.

Bucky smiled, glancing down to the top of Yn’s head, lying against his chest. He inhaled deeply, watching her move along with him— an extended portion of his body by proxy.

Zelda couldn't help but notice it. It'd started subtly enough, with his hand weaving into hers as they walked through the meadows of Hyrule Field. She'd heard the sigh as it left his lips, unbidden and trembling, but the wordless sound mirrored how she felt so precisely that she didn't question it. It'd felt so right to touch his skin again – to be in her own skin again – that she met his gaze with a fluttering laugh and squeezed his fingers.

Yet as they got back into the rhythm of their lives, the scholar couldn't help but notice that he'd made quite a habit of it. When they returned to Lookout Landing for the first time since her return and he'd taken her hand to climb the short flight of stairs, she'd passed it off as his typical chivalry and shook her head with mirth. "I'm fine," she insisted, and he nodded, but didn't reply and certainly didn't let go.

Days had passed, and it happened more and more often. Finally, back in Hateno, he'd reached for her hand as she reached for a truffle, darting his eyes away when she looked at him curiously and yet leaving his hand on hers. Or as she lifted the woven basket into her hand, he'd covered it over the handle, avoiding her eyes as he did so.

It wasn't as if they'd never held hands before, of course. In fact, it wasn't the first time she'd felt his hands at all, calloused and rough against the smoothness of her skin, early in the morning or late in the night. She couldn't count the times on her fingers. But it'd been something different entirely - something raw - since she returned, and she could feel it in the trembles.

It was almost as if he'd been trying to make up for letting her slip through his fingers.

Zelda didn't hold it against him - she couldn't. She'd been there after all, felt the gravel shift beneath her feet, and watched him dive after her without thought into the pitch-black chasm.

But she knew him and she knew it was eating at him – that it had been since they parted. Zelda had seen the desperation as the pads of their fingers just barely brushed one another, saw the fear in his eyes just before falling into the abyss and disappearing into a sphere of light. And now, it was as if he needed to feel the weight of her hand and the touch of her skin, to know that she was real and tangible before him.

--

Golden light awoke Zelda the next day in their little cottage, filtering through the windowpanes. She could hear the pan sizzle on the fire and the careful clatter of dishware, and smiled to herself. After stretching out her muscles, more relaxed than she'd felt in ages, she placed her feet flat on the ground and went down to greet him.

Link's back was turned to her, but he tensed for a moment when he heard the wood creak as if suspended in disbelief. Then he'd resumed as quickly as he'd paused.

"Good morning."

He turned his head to the side, a smile tightening his cheeks, and warmth bloomed through her. "Good morning."

"That smells delicious," the scholar commented, snaking her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss onto his shoulder as she sneaked a peek. "You're making my favorite?"

He shrugged, but that smile was still ever present on his cheeks, and she swore it got bigger the closer she got. "You deserve it," he simply said.

They'd plated the crepes at the table, steaming and fresh with fruits on the side, and she'd already started perusing through the papers, quickly noticing just how often her name popped up in her absence. She'd have to make quite a few stops at stables, it seemed.

She'd placed the paper down to take another bite when Link did it again, reaching across the table to curl his hand into hers, and she was surprised to find him studying her quite intensely. There was rosiness in his cheeks and at the tips of his ears, his blue eyes searching her, and suddenly she felt her skin get warm under his undivided attention. "Link?"

His eyes darted down to their hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles ever so gently. She could tell he had something to say, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but words never came easily to him, and she was there to help now.

"I'm right here," she said finally, assertively. The noise that escaped him, a gruntled sob almost, shot through her chest like an arrow. "Look at me, Link."

He shook his head. "I can't-" he tried, his mouth dry, voice hoarse. He looked up, and though his eyes were rimmed and red, he hadn't yet shed a tear. But it was okay: she'd shed enough lately for both of them. "I can't let you go again."

She had no words for that. It was unusual for her, especially since the Calamity's defeat, to be at a loss for words, but she had no guarantees for him, no promises to make. It was clear then that life had a cruel way of tearing them apart.

But at the very least, they were good at finding each other again.

So then, she'd simply encompassed his hand with both of hers and raised it to her lips. "I will always come back to you," she vowed. He took a moment just to treasure the feeling, the familiarity, and the weight of her hands.

the first time Zelda wakes Link up

"Link?"

Her hushed but urgent voice comes through the propped-up window, along with a head of sunny blonde hair. It temporarily blocks out the shaft of light that's been moving across his room for the last few days.

"Liiiink."

He doesn't answer. Instead, he tucks his head beneath his pillow and blankets, and so Zelda starts shimmying between the wooden panel and the window because she's stubborn that way. She lands on the ground with a thud, and one blue eye peeks out beneath his make-do fort.

"Papa says to leave you alone," Zelda tells him as she's brushing off her knees. Then she stands up straight and puts her hands on her hips. "But you were alone all week. You need a friend, I think."

Another eye peeks out and the blanket inches off his face.

Her papa, the Headmaster, has been really good to Link so far. When he heard what happened, he ran over and all but carried Link back to the academy. He gave him a really nice room of his own with a really comfy bed and lots of stuff just for him.

But Link brought his own pillow because he wanted something from home, and he didn't let it go for the whole walk or even for the whole week.

Every day, the Headmaster comes to check on him, and Henya brings him food from the cafeteria. But Link usually eats only a bite or swallows just a spoonful, and every day, Henya gives him an earful when she comes back and collects a full tray.

Zelda is the first friend who's come to see him. Not that he doesn't consider the Headmaster or the chef his friends or anything, but Zelda somehow always knows what to say or do, even before Link figures it out for himself. Maybe he can't say for sure because he doesn't have a lot of friends to begin with, but Link thinks that she's the best kind of friend a person can have.

When Zelda leans over to one side, she's looking at him sideways and her blonde hair almost touches the floor.

"You don't want to be alone, do you?"

It's not that Link wants to be alone. It's just that he doesn't want anything at all.

Or maybe, actually, he does want something, and that's for his parents to be there. But they're gone and they're not coming back – they can't come back, and maybe he should just be alone instead.

Link doesn't say this. He won't say this because Zelda's just being nice. She's always nice. And he wants to be nice to her too, but he doesn't feel like he can right now, so instead he stays quiet.

"Well, you shouldn't be alone, anyway."

She marches over the carpet and he tucks his legs really quickly right before she can plop herself onto them. When she sits on the end of his bed, Link sits up, wiping the wet streaks on his cheeks with the back of his hands, and faces her.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?"

He shakes his head.

"Do you wanna play a game?"

He shakes his head again.

"Do you wanna talk?"

He pauses for a moment before he shakes it once more, this time a little hesitantly.

Her lips twitch and Zelda nods sagely, in a kind of way that's too wise for her age. "Fine then. I'll talk, you listen." He doesn't protest that, at least, so she must take that as encouragement.

"I lost my mama, too. It's just me and Papa. I don't remember her much. Sometimes I wish I did, but sometimes I think that would make me sadder.

"But you lost both your mama and papa, and you must remember them lots. It must be very hard. It was hard for me. I mean, I know it's not the same but-"

"It is," Link cuts in, and her head whips to him. It's the first time he's said something in a long time. It sounds kind of like he's sick, his voice quiet and raspy, but he's speaking. It's a start. "I mean…you lost someone too. I'm sorry."

Her lip tremors. It looks like she wants to smile or maybe cry. The thought makes his tummy twist. Instead, she just nods. "Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just - I'm worried about you." She smiles this time, and the way it brightens her entire face makes his chest feel somehow less tight and gross. "But you know what? You're really brave."

Somehow, for the first time in a while, Link feels okay enough to smile. All week, he's felt nothing but tired and sad. But when Zelda came in, it was like she brought the sunshine with her.

With a firm nod, she suddenly decides, "I think you and me will be okay."

Something in his heart tells him Zelda's right.

--

the day of the Wing Ceremony

For a moment, there's nothing but darkness – darkness that's become too familiar for his liking. He's been here before, and the same loneliness that always accompanies it prevails.

A low tremor rumbles beneath his feet before building and building, then bursts forth altogether. A familiar beast emerges, dark like the night and scaly like some sort of reptilian monster.

Link doesn't know why he would be familiar, or why, for some reason, he knows distinctly it is in fact a he and not just some nameless, heinous creature. But he is and he does.

There's a flash of white light and he instinctively blocks his eyes with an arm. A voice that does not match the beast – and is definitely not Link's voice – accompanies the light, and for some strange reason, he's sure it's someone safe.

It sounds mechanical, almost, so precise and monotone that it – she couldn't be a human, but she's urgent and she's telling him about some sort of quest. He can't help but feel like he's seen and heard all of this before.

A squawk shakes the earth and – no, that's not right. That's definitely out of place.

Link stops, whirls around, and –

His back hits the floor with a resounding thud.

A golden beak sticks through his window and black beady eyes stare down at him in an almost judgmental way. Zelda's Loftwing cocks its head before spitting a letter at Link with full force and the wooden panel slams shut upon its departure.

Really, Link should expect this by now.

Rubbing the back of his head, he picks up the letter and pushes himself to his feet. If Zelda's choice of messenger didn't give away her identity, then he'd know by her signature seal and the floral scent of the envelope. It smells so much like her, it's like she's in his room.

Link feels a smile creeping on his lips as he reads its contents. Even on such a special day like today, Zelda's found a way to wake him up. She's been preparing for the Wing Ceremony all month, at least, and he's sure she's busy even now. She's been sewing and singing and rehearsing, and she gets excited every time she speaks about it, and it makes him excited too.

By the time he's done reading, the smile has taken over his face and he starts to make his way out the door.

Link didn't know it then, but that would be the last time Zelda woke him up for a while.

--

the first time they sleep together

Golden light is pouring through the foliage on the roof. It filters through his closed lids, and so he scrunches his eyes closed with a tired groan. Really, Link thinks the sun should rise an hour later. Morning light is nearly as insistent on waking him up as a certain someone.

He hears a faint giggle. Speak of the goddess.

Link frowns because he knows Zelda's made her way over to his side of the Tree of Life and she's going to make him get -

She throws a leg over his lap and Link stiffens. His eyes flash open. Zelda's right there.

Casually wrapped in a sheet - nothing but a sheet - she sits astride him. Her blonde hair is messy and gleams like melted gold in the daylight. He's not breathing – his breath lodged itself somewhere in his chest the moment he first opened his eyes.

"I hope you didn't think I'd let you sleep in today just 'cause I kept you up all night."

Heat floods his face. He expels a rather big puff of air.

"Don't tell me you forgot."

"No -" he says quickly, and then his mouth clamps shut.

But moments later, his face softens. He does remember – he remembers everything. Last night was probably the most amazing night of his life. He was able to hold Zelda and kiss her and be closer to her than ever before. He almost can't believe it really happened.

Link puts his hands on her waist because he has this inane need to touch her, and he's not sure where else he ought to put them. It makes her smile, so he finds himself smiling back. Zelda's really good at making him smile.

She sweeps her hair over one shoulder and dips her head, and she kisses him. It's languid and lazy, but there's something about it that makes his stomach flip.

Without even thinking, his hands slide down her thighs. They're partially uncovered by the sheet, and they're so soft and she's so warm, and Link feels himself really waking up. Zelda makes a contented sound against him, so he thinks he must be doing something right. She plants one hand on the mossy ground beside him and the other on his shoulder.

After many lazy kisses, her tongue slides across the seam of his lips and he welcomes it. For a while, there's nothing but Zelda and her lips and her thighs and sunlight. When she draws back, he nearly whines, but she doesn't go far at all.

"Hold me," she whispers, somewhere between a request and a command, but Link has no complaints.

One of his hands cards through her hair, which is also so soft, and cradles the back of her head. Link pulls her closer and leans her forehead against his own. "I love you," he murmurs. It's not the first time he's said it and it won't be the last.

Zelda breathes out the most joyous laugh and it comes with the brightest smile. "Prove it," she dares.

And so he does.

--

the one time Link wakes up first

"Zelda."

She turns over, swinging an arm onto Link's side of the bed.

It's still strangely new for them to share a bed. But Zelda's father didn't feel right about them staying in the Sealed Temple and sleeping on mossy stone floors, and he was right. They were kind of used to treating it like a home and always returning to it in between explorations of the surface.

But really, since they're staying here indefinitely, it's probably good to have a house. The villagers were gracious enough to build them a small home that resembles the ones up in Skyloft, and though they built two bedrooms, the couple was quick to make use of just one.

Zelda expects her arm to fall over Link so that she can cuddle up to him, and she frowns when it lands flat on the mattress instead. She can hear his laugh, beautiful and fleeting like windchimes, but it comes from the opposite side of her.

She turns over again and her eyes peek open, and Zelda instantly finds Link's figure very much perpendicular to her. Her brows furrow before her eyes properly open, and even then, she has to rub her eyes and blink a few times before she can actually see.

And when she does, Zelda thinks she's still dreaming. She must be dreaming.

Not only because Link is sitting there at her bedside, very much awake at what must be the crack of dawn. But because he's holding a ring box and there's a very beautiful ring cushioned within.

Zelda jolts upright and her breath is sucked from her chest. Then she finds she can't move another inch.

His beautiful blue eyes are looking up at her with utter devotion – the kind he reserves just for Zelda, not even for the goddess within her that might actually seek devotion - and maybe even a hint of nerves.

"We've been making promises all our lives," he starts, and by the second word, his voice already starts to quiver, "and right now I'm going to make some more."

Zelda wants to nod or smile or really do anything that shows that she's listening to his every word, but she really can't move. She hopes he can see in her eyes how enraptured she is.

"I promise to always be your best friend," he says. "I promise to protect you and take care of you and to hold your hand.

"I promise to build the family you've always wanted and to be a good father to our kids. I know that I'll love them so much because you'll be their mother.

"But mostly I promise that I will never stop making promises to you, and I will do whatever I can to keep them. All I ask is that you'll marry me."

Of the two of them, he's the quiet one, and yet when he chooses to speak, he manages to make Zelda speechless.

Her hands are on her rosy cheeks and tears blur her vision, and she's trying but failing to hold them back. They start to roll down her cheeks, unbidden, and it makes Link's tears start to fall. A sort of breathy laugh bubbles out of him.

"Link," Zelda says raspily, and a hiccup of a sob escapes her. "Tell me I'm awake. Tell me I'm not dreaming right now."

He swallows and nods, his eyes watery and brilliantly blue. "You're awake," Link whispers. "You're here with me."

Zelda starts laughing, and she thinks she must look pretty ridiculous crying and laughing, but Link's doing the same and he looks so beautiful. She leaps out of bed and topples him, and he grunts as he's knocked to the ground, but he's still laughing.

Her legs are still tangled in the sheets, so she inadvertently drags them down with her. Link tugs at a coverlet and throws it upwards, and it falls over them slowly and breezily like a feather. In the pocket of space, they're tucked away from the rest of the world; even tawny morning light just barely seeps through.

Zelda leans in to kiss him, but their lips are salty from their tears, and it keeps getting interrupted by one or both of them laughing, and so eventually she draws back.

Love is alight in her eyes and they're locked onto his. "I promise," she murmurs. Link takes a trembling breath. "I will marry you."

With endearment in his eyes, Link tucks a lock of hair behind her pointed ear. Then his hand sweeps back and cups her face, his thumb idly stroking her cheek and wiping away any stray tears.

As he pulls Zelda in to capture her lips once more, he thinks back to the first time she woke him up and how right she'd been back then. They'll be okay.

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 councilors 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 the 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 attributed 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 the tranquility of it. It was the one time she might afford some peace, the one time when she was not sought out by anyone at all.

In truth, her councilors 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 were 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 in 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 started. 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 that 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 disarm 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 traveled 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 dueling 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 dueled 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 thrust 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 their 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 lay 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.

Link's happy to be home.

When he steps up to the porch, he wipes his boots off the doormat. He turns the key through the lock – though sometimes he ponders why they have a lock, being the only two humans on the surface – and throws the door open. And when he's through the frame, he drops his weapons by the door.

Link hasn't been gone for long: it's only about an hour's trip to Faron Woods and back. But whenever he runs an errand without Zelda, he finds himself missing her madly and gets the task done with a fair amount of impatience before hurrying home.

This morning, he's cleared out an overwhelming infestation of Deku Baba's, which the Kikwi's complained began sprouting out of nowhere. Bucha was so pleased with Link that he repaid his efforts with seeds for their garden.

Link scans the small house and calls out "Zelda?" when he can't immediately find her.

"In the garden!"

And Link smiles because her voice calling back to him from some unknown place in the house always makes him smile for some reason or another.

So he crosses the length of their small home, wincing at the mud that he still manages to track in, and through the backdoor. And true to her word, Zelda's in the garden.

This is how he knows her, with windswept hair and sunshine on her face. She glows – and most people might say that it's from the goddess within now that they know she's Hylia reborn – but he knows better. The laughing twinkle in her eyes and the flash of her smile is all Zelda.

His face brightens when she turns her gaze up to him. She's wearing a hat with a wide brim, a Skyloftian dress with an apron, and she's covered in nearly as much dirt as he is. "Welcome home," she says, and he feels it in his chest like one of Groose's sucker punches.

This is home. She's his home.

When they were little, when his feet were rarely on the ground and feathers were perpetually stuck in his unkempt hair, he thought it was Skyloft. After all, it's where he was born; it's where the Knight Academy is and where Zelda lived.

But when Zelda was thrown off her Loftwing and disappeared in a cyclone of darkness, Link was spun off balance. He couldn't eat; he couldn't sleep – and that's a feat for the goddesses because anyone who knows him knows the man can sleep.

It was then that he started to realize that maybe it wasn't normal - how much he missed her. Maybe friends don't feel sickeningly empty when the other isn't around. Maybe they don't feel like their entire world just dropped out of the sky.

Just when he started to understand that the sky is infinite, it became impossibly small without her.

When he woke up for the first time and Zelda wasn't there, Skyloft didn't feel like home. It wasn't until he found her that he started to understand. Every time he saw her - at the top of a staircase or across a gaping chasm - he felt a little safer, a little more at ease, if only for a moment in Zelda's company.

It would fill his heart and soul with warmth and light: for weeks he could thrive off that feeling alone. In time it would burn out without Zelda's presence to reignite it and he would grieve until he saw her again.

When all was said and done, Zelda decided to stay on the surface, and Link stayed with her. Though she asked, there's no question in his heart. Link learned by then, after chasing her to every corner of the earth, that he'll go wherever she goes.

Headmaster Gaepora, Zelda's father, insisted that the Sealed Grounds is not an appropriate place to live, even if it's only to rest their head between adventures. Neither Link nor Zelda sees fit to argue with him. For the few months it took to build a house, the Skyloftians were brave and kind enough to venture to the mysterious surface.

Though many of the homes in Skyloft were built generations before them, some people - mainly Gondo and Jakamar - still know the tricks of the trade. With their instruction, the villagers built a small traditional Skyloftian home.

Link felt it's kind of like woodcarving and Zelda isn't the best at it – though, goddess, did she try – but she's the one to make the house their home. She knitted the blankets and displayed his woodcarvings, and she always sets fresh flowers on the table.

By now, it's common knowledge. He knows it; Zelda knows it; he's sure all of Skyloft does too. There is no building on the sky islands or any province on the surface where Link belongs. Home isn't with the Loftwings or the Kikwi's; it's not even with his friends.

It's always been her. Zelda is his home.

Kneeling on the grass, she waves him over and his smile remains even as he maneuvers through the plots of flowers and vegetables.

"How'd it go?" she asks.

"Good enough. Bucha was happy." Link rummages through his pouch before holding out his hand. "He gave us some seeds. They're fruits, I think."

"Oh!" she exclaims. Zelda holds out her palms and he pours the small seeds into them before she tucks them into one of her apron's pockets. "Remind me to thank him later."

Link nods as he crouches down to examine the small mounds of dirt: her newest addition to the yard. "What're you planting?"

Her easygoing smile stretches to an enthused grin and it lights up her entire face. "Some sort of flower," she says. "I can't wait to see what it looks like."

Many of the flowers and plants look and taste much different on the surface. It's been incredibly fun to try new things, and since Zelda's always been inherently curious, she's thrilled to discover all that the surface has to offer them. Even the birds are incredibly tiny, and he smiles mischievously to himself as he thinks back to the first time Groose "descended" to the surface.

Zelda eyes him suspiciously. "What're you grinning about?"

He simply shakes his head, murmurs amusedly, "Nothing," and offers her a hand. "Ready to go inside?"

Zelda pauses, thinks, and flashes him a rather devious look before placing her hand in his. He should've expected to get tugged off balance, and he topples to the ground. He rolls to his back and she's astride him a second later.

Her golden hair falls around them and her smile is like the sun, and by some miracle, he manages to move his hands to her waist. His cheeks are red and so are hers, but he thinks an afternoon in the sunshine is partially to blame. But only partially.

"Not yet," she says, but Link already forgot what he asked.

Zelda drops a kiss on his nose and he takes a breath because he always does.

"I'm covered in dirt," he warns her, though he's not sure why.

"So am I."

"Aren't you tired?"

"Are you?"

Link stops, thinks, before he decidedly shakes his head. Zelda's laugh is chiming, and he can't help but lean forward.

But before he can capture her lips, her damned hat knocks his forehead. Her laugh turns into a giggle fit and he grimaces abashedly as he rubs the sore spot.

Deciding on revenge, Link's hold on her waist transforms into tickles and she yelps, nearly jumping from her skin. "Hey!" Zelda says between giggles, and he's smiling again. She's adorable. "Not fair!"

She wriggles before collapsing atop him and he relents if only so he can flip them over. When Zelda's on the ground, her hat comes off and rolls out of sight, and her hair becomes a halo around her.

Navy flags snapped atop their poles, the glass of the windows shook against the iron grates, and the rain pelted against the shingles of the roof: an unsteady rhythm that harmonized with the crackle of the firewood. It was the kind of night that left the queen reluctant to return home to her empty chambers.

But soon, her chambers wouldn't be so empty anymore.

Zelda often wondered what it'd feel like, having him to come home to, to have his things mesh with hers, to crawl into bed beside him and see him dressed less than proper. Her face heated up at the thought.

A long while had passed before he came to her study door, a knock so familiar under the weight of his hand that she knew it was him. At her clearance, Link entered with wet hair and a fresh set of clothes, but his boots were crusted with mud and flaking on the carpets. Training must've left him a mess during such a storm.

Unlike at his homestead in Ordon, knights didn't get to stay in on a rainy day. Instead, they worked twice as hard on the slick grounds and through the misty air. Needless to say, the knights were pushed to their limits, and as second-in-command, Link was no exception.

"You look exhausted. You don't want to turn in early?" She said this even though she selfishly wished he wouldn't; she hadn't seen him all day.

"Nah," he replied, but the tired undertone of his voice betrayed him. He'd had many worse days, of course, scouring through unforgiving temples and facing ruthless beasts. But a hard day was still a hard day, and even heroes were exhausted from time to time.

But now he had Zelda to return to, and after a nice hot bath, he was just glad to be back in her company. She was perched on the sofa before the fire, with her frayed blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a poetry book open in her palms. Her pale blue eyes were more radiant than the firelight, her small smile warmer than its heat.

The sofa shifted as he slumped into it and the fragrance from his bath oils filled the air. She set the small book aside and lifted the old blanket a touch higher. "Are you cold?"

His face stilled with a fluster. There was a pause before he smiled and carefully scooted closer. Warmth washed through him instantly, but it wasn't from the blanket. Instead, it was the steady pressure of her shoulder and the accidental brush of her thigh against his. He often wondered what she thought of in a tender moment like this. Did it fluster her too?

Zelda turned her gaze back to the fire; though they were solemn, her eyes sparkled in the flitting flames, and her brown hair spilled over her shoulders, soft and dark in the shadows but gleaming like melted gold in the firelight.

His fingers found the frayed edges of the blanket and fixed it over his other shoulder. "Where'd you get this blanket?"

Zelda tensed. It didn't seem like much of a question in his head, but when he said it out loud, it fell heavy on the room like he'd dropped a brick in a still pond.

They were weeks away from marriage now. But there was still much about one another that they didn't know: her status as queen had urged them to marry sooner, after all. It wasn't typically a problem, especially on evenings like these, where they could fill the silence with conversation.

But his question felt heavy in a way he hadn't prepared for. He quickly threw more words out as if it'd ease the tension. "It seems like your favorite. Is it your baby blanket?"

She opened her mouth, but nothing came from it. Instead, her pale eyes glazed over, going distant to a place he couldn't follow. It took a moment for her to say, "No." There was another pause, long and drawn out, where he thought she might leave it there. But instead, Zelda said, "It's from the tower."

His mouth fell open then, the word "Oh" slipping out without him really meaning to say it. It was a sensitive topic, and he'd never intentionally broached it. He'd seen the scars that riddled her body, fading into the smoothness of her skin; he'd heard her voice quiver with an uncharacteristic vulnerability when she spoke of it. "I'm sor-"

"It's okay," she interjected, clearly anticipating the apology. "It's fine."

But it wasn't. Her fear still festered. It was in the screech of an iron door and the thud of heavy footsteps and the menacing torchlight pouring through a door or the rise of a hand or a voice. It was in the fall of twilight, when darkness dampened her contentment like a snuffer smothering a candle, and all she had was her blanket to shelter in.

Some irrational part of her was ashamed, thinking how foolish it was for the bearer of wisdom to be afraid of something that's done and gone, or how inelegant it was for a queen to cower under her blanket at any unexpected noise. But until recently, she'd had the fortune of not disclosing it to anyone, of being alone at the worst of it in the privacy of her bedchambers.

Whether Link understood why or not, he'd already seen her flinch upon awakening in the desert. He'd learned that she'd suffered at the guard's hands in the tower – and at times, she was certain he was just as fragile at the fall of night. She could share this with him.

"It's just…one of the few things that brought me comfort. I couldn't bear parting with it. When the time came to reconstruct the tower, I took it with me."

Link's hand fell on hers, sending that familiar trill from the Triforce rolling up her arm, and she suddenly realized she'd been tugging at a loose thread. "I get that," he said; his voice had been so absent from the room that it almost startled her. But it brought her comfort instead. "I kept everything I found, too."

A skittish smile tugged at her lips. "You do have quite a bit of treasure." When they worked out the logistics of it, he admitted he didn't have much to bring when he moved into her chambers. But he had a rather large trunk of odds and ends that he couldn't seem to part with, one that started to gather dust in the back of his closet.

He smiled sheepishly. "What else brought you comfort?"

She paused, giving his question a fair deal of thought before answering, "You," she said. "And Midna, of course. Knowing you were both defending this kingdom gave me a great deal of comfort. More than anything, for that matter."

Guiltily, her words made his heart skip a beat. It killed him to think that she'd suffered all along, that he'd never considered it or done anything about it. They'd left her in the tower, thinking foolishly that she was safe there - as a princess ought to be - and carried on, while she stayed back and anticipated the inevitable abuse from the guard only steps away from her door.

And yet there was a strange consolation in knowing that Zelda thought of him – that thinking of him comforted her, even at the darkest of times. She'd relied on them to save the kingdom, and at least in that, he hadn't failed her.

Looking down at their joined hands, he brushed her knuckles idly. "I thought about you too…" he admitted. "Me and Midna would talk about you a lot."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Sometimes, she'd bring you up out of nowhere, but other times it was like she knew you were on my mind…" He shook his head, eyes fallen downcast, and when the flush rekindled on his cheeks, he raised his bare hand to scratch it. "But I always worried about you. I just wish -"

She stopped him suddenly with a soft but firm kiss on his cheek. His hand froze against his face, eyes wide and staring blankly at the tapestry over her shoulder. Her lips lingered against his red-hot skin; her breath filtered through her lips and carried to the hollow of his ear. "Wish nothing. You saved me."

Her words sent his hand moving on its own accord before he even realized that he'd broken free of his stupor, and threaded into her hair, grasping her head and drawing her into an embrace. His face buried into her shoulder, catching a whiff of her warm, familiar smell and holding it in his throat like it was something tangible.

"You're safe now," he agreed, his voice hitched with his breath, but she'd shuddered in his arms as he said it. It was a reminder – half-spoken to himself – a vow abridged to the ones they'd speak at the altar only weeks later.