“Hylian?” the voice repeated. It came from the owner of the hand, a figure topped with a skull he didn’t recognize. Very little covered the person’s body by Hyrulean standards, and what was left uncovered was decorated with swirling smears of paint. He assumed the person was a woman.

Maybe his flustered and surprised silence was frustrating the stranger, because she squeezed his wrist tighter and nudged her helmet aside to stare at him. Even in the low light, he could tell her eyes were a vibrant and endearing shade of green, marvelously reflective of the foliage encasing them. They were studying him, staring into his soul, looking over all of him, and he couldn’t understand what she seemed to be waiting for.

“What is a Hylian doing here?” she asked. It was heavily accented, but her common tongue was impressive—or maybe he just listened to the gossip in the castle too much. Link cleared his throat and tried to step back, but she followed into his space again.

“I-“ he tried, but what could he say? He was being carted off to marry the Zonai princess and had escaped when his travel party had their backs turned. How could he explain that? She’d never believe him. “I ran away.”

Something in her eyes softened, as did her grip on his hand. She seemed to consider him for a moment, then let go entirely with a frown.

“Bad life,” she said, sounding a little unsure of her words. Link shook his head quickly.

“No-“ he defended, and she cocked her head.

“Why do you run?” she asked. Link furrowed his eyebrows. As if he could be this open with a stranger.

“Are you Zonai?” he questioned curiously, thinking it would be both a long shot and quite the coincidence. To his surprise, or maybe not, she nodded.

“And you are Hylian.”

An astute observation.

“Do you know your princess?” he asked, feeling awkward and stupid and everything inbetween.

An amused smile crossed over her features. She did not give him an answer and instead took his hand, threading her fingers with his.

“Come,” she said simply and he had little time to protest before she was walking, dragging him alongside her.

Link made a noise of refusal before considering his options. He didn’t know where he was, and it was either getting kidnapped by this strange Zonai woman, or married to someone he’s never even seen before. Kidnapped it was, so he stopped trying to break free and just followed along. She led him through the trees, over a babbling creek, deeper into the heart of the forest.

“Do you..have a name?” he asked when he became too unnerved by a towering statue to stay quiet. She looked back at him with a sly smile and Link tried desperately to make sense of why it sent his heart racing.

“Yes,” she replied, but she said no more than that.

“Mine is L--”

But she’d turned on him and pressed her hand over his mouth, her eyes shining with something between a warning and amusement. Had he not been raised in a castle, he might’ve bit her.

“We do not speak our names to the woods,” she said, her laughter evident behind her words.

“Why not?” he asked curiously.

“For the same reason you do not look too closely at the things you think you see.”

She did not speak again and he found himself too afraid to ask any more questions until they reached a civilization carved into the towering walls of lush plateaus. He would be a fool not to acknowledge how lovely it was.

It was here that he learned her name: Zelda, and she learned his. The Zonai were surprisingly kind, accepting him as one of their own, and Zelda turned out to be adventurous and curious and all things inbetween. She had a knack for roping him along with her until he gave in and joined her barefoot in the water, or agreed to face a set of Moblins, or ran hand-in-hand through a lightning storm. His life had gotten far more interesting than it ever had been in the castle, and he no longer worried about the arranged marriage or any of his duties. What he did instead was let himself fall head-first in love with the Zonai girl that had found him and brought him here, where he felt most at home.

He followed her, even to the edge of Lake Hylia in the middle of the night, dodging patrol guards that might’ve been looking for him. When he asked where she was taking him, all she said was that it was a surprise. He was partial to disbelief until he saw it emerging from the water, making its way towards them with a grace that was almost terrifying.

Never before had Link been so close to a dragon. It was far bigger than he could even comprehend, larger than life, and it was right in front of them. He couldn’t help shuffling backwards, but Zelda was just behind him and she didn’t let him get far.

“Farosh,” she greeted, the name sounding far more natural on her Zonai tongue than it ever would on his. “She says hello.”

“Can—you understand her?” Link whispered, afraid if he spoke too loud he would somehow scare the ginormous beast away.

“She would not be here if she was not curious,” she replied quite simply, then nudged him gently with her elbow. “Reach out your hand.”

“What?”

“Like this.”

In demonstration, she held her palm out to the dragon, her fingers steady as if this was no more than a Hylian retriever. He hesitated, but her green eyes were ever patient and understanding, and he trusted her. With a breath, he copied her movement, fighting to keep his hand from shaking.

“She is gentle,” she assured, and Farosh lowered her head. “Touch her.”

“Touch-“

But she placed her hand on top of his and he felt the other just on his shoulder. He looked back at her in utter surprise, but she only smiled in return. What made him look away from her was the feeling of rough scales beneath his hand and a tingling sensation, almost like static, shooting from his fingertips to his toes. The mighty dragon was under their hands, rumblings softly but low enough to vibrate his entire body. Link laughed in giddy disbelief.

“This--I… It’s incredible,” he whispered, utterly amazed.

“She likes you,” Zelda whispered back. He could hear her smile.

“Wow. What does that mean?”

“It means she approves.”

Link turned to look at her with furrowed brows, and Farosh ascended slowly above them to return to the water.

“Approves of what?” he asked.

“You,” she replied, lacing their fingers together and leaning her forehead against his.

“I don’t understand.”

“You ran away from something they decided for you.”

“From--yes, from the marriage that they sent me off for.”

“I am the Zonai princess,” Zelda said quietly and Link took an abrupt step back to stare at her with wide eyes. “It is not forced if you choose it yourself.”

He should’ve been upset that he hadn’t known that before, but he found that he couldn’t be angry with her at all. He’d fallen in love with her regardless of any arrangement, and it was she who gave him that opportunity. How could he be angry at that?

“Do I choose it?” he asked, a smile spreading across his face as he pulled her against him.

“It would be quite the issue if you didn’t,” she replied, brushing her nose against his. “Farosh thinks you should, by the way.”

Link laughed, giving her hands a gentle squeeze as he said, “Then I guess I do.”

Robbie’s forehead creased. He could only see the back of the young man’s head, the dirty blonde hair cut to proper length and trimmed every few weeks at the Queen’s behest. Link had never voiced an objection, not caring a lick about his looks. Robbie paced forward with crossed arms.

“I’m gonna be late for the banquet,” Link said, finally stopping his obsession with the mirror and heading back towards the doors, but Robbie grabbed his elbow and yanked him back. He got a good look at his face and…

“Are you smitten?” Robbie asked, almost not believing the color in his cheeks, the frenzy in his blue eyes.

“No.”

It was a bald-faced lie. Robbie could tell even without Link chuckling through it.

“O-of course not.”

Link ripped his arm from Robbie’s hold and the poor prince had to keep his heart from stinging. Of all the swordsmen and women in the land, why her? Why those green eyes? Why that golden hair? Why that outfit of brown leather that accentuated-

Link clutched his eyes closed with a sigh.

He was in trouble.

“You and I both know you can’t run from me,” Link heard Robbie call after him. Couldn’t he just drop this? “Who is it, the general’s daughter with the brown hair? That red-haired girl who follows you around with love poems? Oh Hylia, it’s not a commoner is it? Tell me it’s not a commoner.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Link said, his fists balled. He was practically storming away. If he walked any faster, his white pants and royal blue tunic may have caught fire.

“Is she going to be at the banquet?” Robbie continued. “Is that why you suddenly care about how you loo—”

“Why does it matter to you?!” Link barked as he turned on his heel to face Robbie, who was taken aback by the lash of anger. Link absolutely seethed, his chest heaving heavy breaths.

“Why?!” Link repeated, obviously expecting an answer, but apparently he changed his mind. “Why do you have to know everything about me? Why do you have to know that within ten minutes of meeting my knight attendant, my lips were on hers? Why do you have to know that I, Prince Lincoln of Hyrule, fell in love at first sight with the daughter of a farmer in Hateno? Why do you have to know how distraught I am that my mother would never accept our courtship?!”

Robbie let Link storm away, feeling terribly guilty for how had pushed the young man, who was only eighteen and yet preparing to rule a broken kingdom.

But Link stopped in his tracks when he noticed that Robbie wasn’t following him. The prince hugged his arms close, seeking the comfort he was never readily given.

If Link wanted to say something, he never did.

“I’m sorry,” Robbie said, after heave Link sufficient time to put his words together. “I didn’t know. I guess…I guess I’m used to the little boy who told me everything about his day. Sometimes I forget you are all grown up now, that what is on your plate is far heavier than what you had for breakfast.”

Link stewed in silence but Robbie could hear him sigh, could see his head tilt to the ceiling.

“I’m not going to the banquet,” Link said. Robbie could hear his honesty. “I’m going to see her. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Link finally turned his head.

“Will you cover for me?” Link asked. Robbie graced a smirk.

Link, the Prince of Hyrule, was most widely known for his good looks and deep, rich voice, capable of persuading even the most daunting enemies into submission. He could command legions of men and was rumored to have seduced countless women.

With his golden crown settled atop his head of messy, dirty blonde locks, he swallowed as he looked himself up and down in the mirror. A tunic of deep maroon, embellished with jewels of varying color and embroidered with gold, made him appear much more confident than he truly was.

“What do you opinion? I mean, what’s your opinion?”

“Well, I do opinion that you look fine as usual,” Revali, Link’s trusty attendant and best friend, mocked. “Maybe tuck your shirt in more.”

“Sorry,” Link groaned. “I was gonna ask about what you think, but I was also gonna ask for your opinion, and then it just meshed together.”

“I know. Bad habit, right?”

“Yeah. Bad habit.”

In spite of his facade of seductive suaveness and general put-togetherness, Prince Link of Hyrule was a mess. A stammering, anxious, poor-postured mess.

“Stand straight,” Revali reminded. “Hunched over princes don’t get courted.”

“You don’t know that,” Link scoffed even as he straightened his back.

“It doesn’t matter, I suppose. You put on a pretty good show anyway.” Revali peeked out the door. “It’s time to go.”

The pair left the dressing room and navigated a series of doorways to the ballroom, just outside of which Revali made final adjustments on Link’s attire. The servants on either side of the grand doors pushed them open, revealing the prince to the ball attendants; nobles from around the kingdom gathered on the intricate marble floors dressed in their most expensive suits and gowns and Link had to swallow back a nervous squeak.

If his father had it his way, he would give an elaborate speech. Instead, his arrival was announced and he was set free on the ballroom floor, but not without Revali tagging closely behind. The prince winked at the women he passed, shook hands with men he didn’t know, and accepted drinks from rushing stewards. The real battle came when he had to dance with the noblewomen, for his feet were not sure of themselves and often got caught on their skirts.

When it became too much, the anxiety flooding his system, he abandoned his attendant with some chatty nobleman and escaped to the gardens outside. To say he was shocked at the sight of someone else sitting next to the fountain was an understatement.

“Hello?” he called, more a question than a greeting.

The woman at the fountain whipped around to face him. “Oh, hello.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Taking a breather.”

“Me too,” he said. Hastily, he sat next to her at the fountain.

Her eyes were green and her hair was sunny even in the moonlight, beneath the thousands of stars in the sky and among the deep green trees surrounding them. The light blue of her dress was complemented by the same moonlight, illuminating her against the water.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“I asked you what your name is,” she repeated.

“Uh… Link. I’m Link.”

“Oh.” Quickly, she bowed her head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, really.” He placed a shaky hand on her shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“Zelda,” she responded, looking up. “I’m sorry again. I didn’t know you were the prince—I’ve never seen what you look like before.”

“It’s okay, really. Stop being apologizing.”

She blinked. Tilting her head, she asked, “What?”

“I— uh— I said stop apologizing.”

“No… You said ‘stop being apologizing.’” A smirk snuck onto her face. “Is the prince not as bewitching with his words as I so often hear?”

“Y-you… respond so boldly to the prince? Well, I should… have your head! Or something.” He muttered the last part.

Bursting into laughter, she swiped at the tears forming with a knuckle. “You’re not threatening even if you try.”

“I’m working on it.”

“I see.” She squinted at him. “Why are you so awkward in private? You’re quite confident among the masses.”

“It’s a facade,” he admitted.

“I believe that,” she said with a snicker. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I’m being too rude.”

“Not at all. I like it, actually.” He stared at his hands in his lap. “Honesty is refreshing.” He was a hypocrite, he knew, not being honest himself about his true personality. But who would follow a cowardly prince that stumbled over each word, tripped over each pebble? Nobody.

A breeze swept through the garden then, and Zelda rubbed her exposed arms. “It’s a little cold,” she said. “Could we head inside?”

“O-of course!” He hurried to his feet and offered his arm. “Milady.” He displayed an awkward, toothy smile. With a grimace, she told him it was alright and that she could walk on her own.

He found himself mesmerized by this mysterious woman. She carried herself with graceful elegance and her voice was as sweet as honey, despite the undignified things that came out of her mouth. Yet he found her a breath of fresh air from the normally stuffy language of the courts, in the way she wasn’t afraid to laugh crystal clear or keep up formal speech with him.

They settled down in the hallway outside the ballroom, where the chatter and music could be heard faintly through the walls but nobody was there to bother them. They spoke for hours, about their families and where they lived, and he learned she was a noblewoman from the east, around Hateno. Link wasn’t the only one surprised, though—Zelda, used to hearing the heroic tales of the prince’s refined chivalry, was left dumbfounded when he stumbled over his words—and his feet, when he tripped over a rock in the gardens—more than once.

His mouth hung agape when she absentmindedly flipped her hair over her shoulder. When she noticed, she waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Are you alright, Prince?”

Clearing his throat, he stammered, “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“I would say you’re smitten with me,” she declared, and he couldn’t even force himself to close his mouth. The boldness she spoke with in private rivaled that of his public front.

He swallowed and looked down at his boots, one foot tapping nervously.

“There are thousands of words in our language and yet I can’t think of just one to describe you,” Link blurted.

“I can describe you with one,” Zelda replied, unfazed.

“Really? What?”

“Awkward.”

“Okay, well, I’m not,” he spluttered, scratching the back of his head. “I am actually quite smooth.”

She laughed out loud at that. “Oh, please. You almost fell over walking back to the ballroom.”

“Clumsy does not equal awkward,” he huffed. “There’s no correlation—”

“There is a correlation, actually.”

“Not always!”

She covered her mouth with a gloved hand and chuckled, causing him to do the same. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled, leaning against a hallway pillar. His eyes settled on her form, on her light blue dress and golden hair, her soft green eyes and lips curled into a smile, and he realized that he did have one word to describe her:

Wow.

“Hm? Did you say something?” Zelda asked, eyebrows perked.

“Oh, I… I said that out loud, huh,” he muttered, partially to himself.

The noblewoman turned her head at the sound of muted footsteps, watching as people filtered out of the ballroom doors at the end of the corridor. He wiped the sweat off his forehead in relief that she’d quickly forgotten his blurting. She sighed and handed her champagne glass to him.

“Well,” she breathed, “it seems I have to go.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe next time I see you, you’ll be able to narrow it down to a thousand words.”

“Uh, yeah. Haha.” He swirled the glass around in his hand. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Prince Link.” Turning to leave, she sent a deadly wink his way, almost causing his heart to stop. His attempt at winking back, which turned into a strained blink, sent her into a fit of giggles that she had to stifle before mixing back into the crowd of nobles. He watched her go, fabric swishing behind her, keeping his eyes on her blonde head even as it blended in with the other people. Still, his mind could only land on one word.