#wedding fluff

“You’re staring,” he mutters without looking up, voice soft but smug, because of course he knows.

“Maybe I am,” you shoot back, still leaning against the doorframe. “You clean up nice, Barnes.”

He lifts his head then, tie half-done, a slow grin curving his mouth. “You make me sound like a piece of furniture.”

“You kinda are. Big, sturdy, occasionally creaky—”

“—and built to last,” he interrupts, crossing the room in two long strides before you can escape. His arms come around your waist, solid and familiar, the kind of hold that roots you in place. “Don’t go getting shy on me now, doll. You’re the one who picked this thing out.”

You smooth the front of his shirt with your palms, watching the pulse flutter at his throat. “You just looked too good not to. You’re gonna make everyone else look bad.”

He leans in, voice dropping. “Good. Let ‘em see.”

And you think that might be your favorite thing about him — the quiet confidence, the ease. He never makes you feel like you’re taking up too much space. If anything, he takes up space with you.

The drive to the venue is easy. You’ve got one hand on the wheel, the other laced with his over the console. Bucky hums along to the radio, thumb brushing lazy circles over your knuckles. You can feel him glancing at you every so often — the way you do when you love someone and just want to make sure they’re still real.

“Hey,” he says softly when the road narrows and the fields stretch out golden around you. “You nervous?”

You shrug. “A little. I used to hate weddings. Always went alone. Always felt like—”

“Like the only one without a dance partner?”

You look over, and he’s smiling that small, knowing smile that makes your stomach twist.

“Yeah,” you admit. “Like that.”

He squeezes your hand, metal cool against your skin. “Not anymore, sweetheart.”

The reception hall smells like champagne and peonies. You’re halfway through saying hi to the bride when Bucky’s hand finds the small of your back — protective, grounding. You used to dread moments like this, the small talk, the half-hearted “still single?” jokes. But with him there, it’s different.

He laughs with you, slides his hand into yours when you start fidgeting, offers his arm when you’re navigating through the crowd. He looks at you like you’re the one in the white dress, like every light in the room is conspiring to make you glow.

And people notice.

They notice the way he leans down when you whisper something, the way his eyes soften when you laugh. Even your friends — the ones who have seen you cry over bad dates and empty plus-ones — they look at you like they can’t quite believe it. Like they’ve never seen you so happy.

At one point, your old college friend pulls you aside near the bar. “Okay,” she hisses, grinning. “Where the hell did you find him?”

You laugh, cheeks warm. “Long story.”

She nods toward Bucky across the room, where he’s talking to the groom, that easy smile on his face. “He’s looking at you like you hung the moon.”

And for once, you don’t feel the need to deflect. You just smile and say, “Yeah. I know.”

Dinner’s loud and full of laughter, the kind that makes your cheeks ache. Bucky’s hand never leaves yours, his thumb tracing lazy patterns under the table. When the best man tells a joke that lands badly, he leans over to whisper something in your ear that makes you snort into your drink.

He beams at the sound — actually beams — and presses a kiss to your temple like he’s proud of himself.

By the time the first dance starts, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve caught him looking at you. He tugs you toward the dance floor before you can make an excuse, his grin crooked and boyish.

“Bucky, I can’t dance in heels.”

“Then take ‘em off.”

He’s already kicked his shoes aside, offering his hand, and you let him pull you close until your chest meets his. The music is soft, something timeless, and his breath is warm against your hair.

“Better?” he murmurs.

“Better.”

You sway together, slow and steady, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His fingers trace up your spine, and every nerve in your body hums.

“You know,” he says after a moment, his voice low, “I used to hate this kinda thing too.”

“What, weddings?”

He nods. “Never knew what to do with myself. Always felt outta place. Now?” He leans back just enough to look at you, eyes searching. “Feels like I finally fit somewhere.”

You swallow, words catching in your throat. “With me?”

“With you.”

And just like that, all the years of sitting alone at reception tables, pretending not to care, fade into something small and far away. Because now there’s this — his arms around you, his voice soft in your ear, his heart beating steady under your palm.

You don’t even realize the song’s ended until people start clapping around you. Bucky only laughs, keeps you pressed close.

“One more,” he murmurs, already swaying again. “They can wait.”

Later, when the night slows and the stars come out, you find yourselves outside on the patio. The air smells like grass and champagne, the fairy lights above you flickering like tiny constellations.

Bucky’s jacket is draped over your shoulders, his tie hanging loose around his neck. He’s got that tired, content smile — the kind that comes after a long day of good things.

“You have fun?” he asks.

You nod, fiddling with the edge of his jacket sleeve. “More than I expected to.”

“Good. You deserve that.”

You glance up at him, heart swelling at how easy he says it. How much he means it.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “For coming. I know these things aren’t exactly your scene.”

He shrugs. “Didn’t matter what it was. I just wanted to be where you were.”

Your chest tightens, eyes stinging. God, you used to dread this kind of vulnerability — used to think showing how much you cared was dangerous. But with him? It feels safe.

He catches your chin with two fingers, tilts your face up until your eyes meet his. “You’re not alone anymore, doll. Not ever again.”

You lean in before you can stop yourself, kissing him soft and slow. He tastes like champagne and promise, like something you never thought you’d have.

When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours, smiling that small, secret smile.

“Next wedding,” he whispers, “we’re crashing the dance floor first.”

You laugh. “Deal.”

He grins wider, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And maybe one day, I’ll be the idiot waiting for you at the end of the aisle.”

Your breath catches.

He chuckles softly, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Too soon?”

“Not at all,” you whisper.

Because maybe for the first time, you can picture it — the two of you standing side by side, not as guests but as something more permanent, something certain.

You're absolutely right that they'd have a beach wedding. Beaches are important for both of them.

John lets Santino do most of the planning for their suits and for the theme, because fashion and decoration are his area of expertise. "Anything you pick will be beautiful."

So they have a blue color scheme with touches of silver, on top of lots of billowing white fabrics and blue and white flowers. And of course, the food is extravagant because he can afford it.

Coffee-flavored wedding cake with hand sculpted John and Santino cake toppers!! They both like coffee, so it's perfect. John thinks the cake toppers are really funny.

Santino has an extravagant blue suit and John wears white (You might expect black, but today isn't about him as a killer, it's about his new life with Santino and his sweeter side). They weren't going to see each other's suits before the wedding, but then Santino got too excited about picking clothes and they ended up suit shopping together. They also both have silver flower crowns, because I said so!

The guest list is a nightmare. Santino has to make sure no one is snubbed, because being invited to a wedding has political significance within the Table (not to mention within his family), and you don't want to make enemies. So he has to be really careful. Especially with the seating chart…

Security is a big issue as well, because this is a perfect time for assassination. John and Ares are both overworked trying to make sure the grooms will be safe.

When he's working on the guest list and security, Santino gets overwhelmed and starts to break down because he feels like their wedding isn't even about them anymore - there's too much politics involved. Plus, he's scared someone will take the opportunity to make an attempt on his life before his new life with John can even begin. So John has to calm him down and remind him that no matter what happens, he'll protect him from any fallout and they'll be on their honeymoon soon, which is only for them.

On the other hand, John barely has any guests. There's Winston, Caine, Sofia, and Katia, and…that's about it. It makes Santino a bit sad to see it, and he tries to make sure John can hang out with his family if he wants to. At least with Gianna.

There's a lot of back-and-forth in John's mind over whether to invite The Director. Ultimately, he decides not to do it. He says it's because she wouldn't really want to come anyway, but he honestly just doesn't want to see her on a day that is supposed to be happy.

On the day of the wedding, both of them are soooo nervous!! Santino wants everything to go well and according to plan - he's constantly fussing over his suit and pacing around memorizing his vows. John is nervous too, but he expresses it by being deathly quiet and just having a worried look on his face.

But once they see each other, everything melts away and they're smiling so much and can't stop crying. Their vows are so sweet - to protect each other to the death, to be there in sickness and health, to honor and listen to each other, to always be each other's first priority, to show each other the innocence that can't be found in the rest of this broken world.

And then…THE WEDDING DOES GET ATTACKED!!! But here's the twist: although neither of them told the other because they don't want to worry them, both of them decide to carry concealed weapons during the ceremony, just in case they need to protect each other. They both pull out their weapons at the same time and kill the assassins.

The attack is a blessing in disguise: it turns out to be a display of their strength, solidifying Santino's reputation and teaching others not to mess with the power couple!! It's also a demonstration of their love for each other and everyone is touched.

“They’re just letting their bitterness and jealousy get to them. Block the hell out of them.”

“You bet I did. I guess no more social media for me until after the wedding,” she sighed. “Though how we’re going to pull that off without the angry mobs coming after me, I don’t know.”

“We’ll get through it. You’re the one I love and I get to spend my life with. Nothing will change that,” Steve reminded her softly, kissing the top of her head. “Shall I get the emergency ice cream?”

“You know me so well, babe,” Darcy sighed fondly. “Yes, please. I’m so grumpy, I don’t even care what kind it is.”

“I’ll get the big bowls, then,” Steve declared, extricating himself from the sofa and heading to the fridge.

Despite her irritation, Darcy took the opportunity to shamelessly ogle him from behind.

“Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave,” she crooned flirtatiously.

Steve chuckled as he dished up two heaping bowls of cookie dough ice cream.

“You’re ridiculous and I love it,” he responded, presenting her with her cold treat. Darcy gave him a thank you kiss before diving into her favorite comfort food.

Her mood cleared up and for a couple days, things were chill as rumors quieted down, but then an old photograph surfaced of Darcy leaving a bridal boutique and the furor was rekindled. Darcy deleted all social media apps from both of their phones and holed up in her apartment, calling Jane to inform her she’d have to work remotely for a bit.

The TV was no help either. Steve finally shut it off in disgust.

“I’m calling Natasha,” he finally declared. “This is out of hand.”

“I thought she was in New Zealand?” Darcy queried, trying not to sound too hopeful. She knew Nat would have useful tips for dealing with the crazy and would be there in a heartbeat if she could.

“Got back night before last,” Steve informed her. “She’ll keep the wolves at bay.”

“That she will,” Darcy agreed, flipping aimlessly through a bridal magazine. She’d long ago found her dress, but she loved looking at all the pretty styles and gleaning useful tips from the articles.

Sighing at a very romantic looking pose, she dog eared the page to add to her photo shoot ideas.

Two days later, Darcy found herself unceremoniously being hauled out to a waiting sports car by Natasha herself.

“Am I being kidnapped? Did I finally piss off Fury enough to have me disappeared?” she queried jokingly.

Natasha only smiled mysteriously.

“You’ll soon find out,” she teased evasively. “I assure you it is a good surprise. Now smile for the paps.”

Darcy blew a kiss to the gathered cameras and smirked as she left them in the dust.

“Where are we going?” she asked after they’d left the city well behind.

“Getting you married.”

“What?” Darcy spluttered. “Now? I mean, how?”

“I have my ways and several invested friends. We’re tired of seeing you and Steve so stressed and we’re going to give you a happy day with no paparazzi or snoops.”

“If you can accomplish that, my friend, you really are a miracle worker,” Darcy said, with a half sigh, half groan. “It’s a good thing I love that man as much as I do.”

“The fact that you’re not protesting speaks volumes,” Natasha observed. “And if I overstep in any way, please tell me.”

“You know I trust you, Nat,” Darcy assured her. “I bet you got me time off, packed my bags and my gown, and probably booked the officiant as well.”

“Pretty much.”

Darcy laughed and leaned back in the seat. A lot of decisions had just been taken out of her hands and for once she wasn’t mad about it.

Steve, meanwhile, was huddled in the backseat of an SUV being lovingly lectured by his friends.

“You should have said something sooner,” Bucky chided him. “We could have had this well in hand weeks ago.”

“Yeah,” Clint agreed from the driver’s seat. “I wish I’d paid more attention. I didn’t realize the press was hounding her so bad, the jackasses.”

“You guys have much bigger issues to deal with,” Steve protested. “I thought Darcy and I could handle it.”

Bucky gave him the stink eye and Sam sighed.

“The point is, Steve, you shouldn’t have to handle invasion of privacy and personal attacks. It’s not okay,” Sam told him. “Calling Nat was the right call. We’ll get you hitched in peace and quiet.”

The destination turned out to be a mansion in upstate New York with very tight security. Darcy’s eyes boggled as they drove through the gates.

“What kind of strings did you pull, Nat?” she asked in wonder, staring at the magnificent building.

“Never you mind,” Natasha replied. “Let’s just say someone owed me. There’s plenty of good options for either an indoor or outdoor ceremony. We’ll give you the grand tour tonight and have you saying I Do tomorrow. Then we’ll leave you alone to enjoy honeymoon bliss the rest of the week.”

“I like that plan!” Darcy agreed, cheerfully.

The two vehicles pulled up in front of the mansion and Steve and Darcy were handed their suitcases and ordered inside while their friends unloaded the other luggage. They gaped open- mouthed at the grandeur inside.

“That staircase is really something,” Steve admired. “The chandelier!” Darcy breathed in wonder. “I feel like I’m in the American version of Downton Abbey.”

“Yeah. Where’s Carson?” Steve joked with a chuckle.

Presently, Natasha swept in carrying the bag that contained Darcy’s dress.

“Follow me,” she ordered, “you too, Steve.”

Natasha assigned them to separate bedrooms, much to Darcy’s dismay, but assured her it was just for the one night, per tradition.

“I’ll be right next door,” Jane assured her. “We could turn this into a slumber party!”

Eyeing the gigantic four poster bed, Darcy certainly saw the potential.

Natasha hung up Darcy’s wedding dress in the spacious wardrobe and added another dress beside it.

“I brought your red dress along for dinner tonight, she informed her. “It’s a dressy occasion.”

Darcy just nodded, deciding to just roll with it.

The grand tour was one jaw dropping sight after another and Steve and Darcy decided that the lawn behind the mansion was perfect for a ceremony setting. It faced a beautiful row of pools and landscaped hedges that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The forecast looked good, but in case of inclement weather, they agreed on the enclosed porch for a backup.

Steve and Darcy lingered on the lawn, relishing the view and the peace. Darcy thought he looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. Steve was glad to see the tense lines and constant wariness erased from Darcy’s expression. She hadn’t deserved all the stress being with him had caused, but he was so grateful for her.

“I’m sorry I let it get to this, Darcy,” he sighed, holding her close. “You could have walked away from all the drama and I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“I’m too stubborn to quit on us and I love you too damn much,” Darcy replied, looking up at him contentedly. “I won’t gonna lie, it’s been awful, but we’re worth it.”

“Yes, we are,” Steve agreed, kissing the top of her head. He loved how perfectly they fit together. “We have the best friends, don’t we?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Darcy agreed.

Dinner was a happy affair and everyone looked incredibly gorgeous in their dressed up state. Natasha thought Darcy was positively glowing as she laughed and playfully argued with Clint about who had won an age old bet. Bucky eyed the bride and groom to be with a great deal of fondness and just a touch of wistfulness.

“I want what they have, don’t you?” he murmured to his table neighbor, Wanda.

“Yes,” Wanda sighed, smiling pensively. “They are so good for each other and so loyal through everything. That is a relationship to strive for.”

After dinner they went outside and stargazed while reminiscing about various escapades. Darcy and Steve shared the story of their meet cute again and the men took the opportunity to lovingly roast Steve.

Darcy went to bed after a very satisfying goodnight kiss, giddy at the thought that tomorrow she would be Mrs. Rogers.

Jane woke her with giddy impatience.

“Wake up! It’s your wedding day!”

“Ahhh!!” Darcy squealed, when she’d fully come to her senses. “It’s happening! It’s actually happening!!”

They clutched each other in an exuberant hug.

Natasha and Wanda joined them for a cozy ladies only breakfast, (Steve had been forbidden to see her before the ceremony), then they chilled out on the balcony for a while, champagne in hand.

They helped each other out with hair and makeup and Darcy could only stare in amazement at herself in the mirror as Natasha put the finishing touches on her updo.

“Wow! I look like a princess!” Darcy remarked, awestruck. “Nat, you’re a wizard. I should feel bad that my mom’s not here, but I can’t. She’d be throwing out the backhanded compliments like candy. Another benefit of eloping, I guess.”

“Truth,” Jane agreed. “They’ll have to settle for watching the video and pictures.”

“You got a photographer on this short notice?” Darcy asked, eyebrow lifting in surprise. “That’s quite a feat.”

“She’s pretty new to the business, but very talented,” Jane told her. “As soon as Natasha told me the plan, I called her: My wedding gift to you and Steve.”

“Jane. That’s……so sweet….I might just cry,” Darcy batted away tears and Wanda shook her head.

“No weeping and spoiling makeup yet, Darcy,” she commanded her. “Let’s get you into that beautiful dress….”

Everybody sighed in unison when Darcy unzipped the garment bag and revealed her beautiful gown. The strapless A-line design was covered with intricate beadwork on the bodice and lacy details on the skirt hem.

“Steve’s brain is gonna explode when he sees you,” Wanda commented, as they helped her into the dress.

“Not literally, I hope,” Darcy quipped. “I want him to live for our wedding night.”

She wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made Natasha chuckle and Jane wave her finger in playful rebuke.

Steve was sketching while he waited for his summons on the back balcony overlooking the garden. He hadn’t had this good of a view in a long time and his pencil flew across the paper as he drew. He supposed he should be feeling nervous, but he wasn’t. The flutters in his stomach were sheer excitement at finally marrying the woman he loved, a dream he’d thought long since died. But then Darcy had crashed into his life, quite literally, and nothing had been the same.

He felt a cool hand on his shoulder and Bucky spoke up.

“Nice to see you drawing again, punk,” he said. “Calming the nerves?”

Steve shook his head.

“I’m distracting myself from breaking Nat’s rule and running to see Darcy. I can’t wait. Are you and Sam behaving?”

“Us? Misbehave? Where’d you ever get that notion?” Bucky asked, feigning shock. Steve just chuckled.

“Only whenever you’re left alone for more than five minutes,” he retorted. “Kinda like me getting into fights, only now the tables have turned.”

Bucky shrugged sheepishly.

“You’ve got me there.”

A figure joined them a few minutes later and both men stared as they took in Natasha, looking beautiful in her light aqua bridesmaids dress, red hair curled and spilling down her back. Steve saw Bucky swallow hard.

“Fifteen minutes, gentlemen,” she told them, returning their admiring glances, her eyes lingering on Bucky. “Damn. You clean up good, boys.”

“So do you,” Bucky replied in a strangled sounding voice.

Steve grinned. He couldn’t wait to help these two get a clue.

“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Steve observed sympathetically after Natasha had disappeared.

“No…..aw, hell.” Bucky muttered, unable to lie to his best friend. “But She thinks love’s for children. What’s the point?”

Steve sighed.

“The point is, she’s had everyone she cared about ripped away and The Red Room philosophies were deeply ingrained in her. Believe it or not, I haven’t heard her utter those words in nearly two years. And clearly, she now believes in love enough to make sure I didn’t screw things up with Darcy and then gave us this…..” he gestured toward their surroundings as he flipped his notebook closed and stood up. “You’re about to witness firsthand how taking a chance is absolutely worth it. And this is coming from someone who’s known to be hopeless with women.”

Steve grinned at Bucky, who smiled knowingly back and stood to give him a man hug.

“I wouldn’t miss this miraculous moment for the world,” Bucky declared, with another affectionate thump on the back. “Now let’s go get you married.”

There were no decorations or aisle runners or musical accompaniments, but Darcy found herself not missing any of it. She simply waited until she’d seen the bridesmaids and groomsmen line up in front of the officiant—was that Agent IPod Thief?—and strolled outside to join them, escorted by Clint. (Thor was sadly unavailable, being busy with Asgardian stuff, but he’d sent Darcy a very congratulatory text message in all capital letters).

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Steve was looking at her like she was his entire world. The harassment that she’d been dealing with from social media and the press faded away in the reality of their happiness.

The jealous bitches can suck it! she thought gleefully.

Agent Coulson (How was he not dead?) looked exceedingly pleased to be overseeing the wedding of his childhood idol. It was kind of cute, Darcy observed vaguely, before Steve distracted her by winking flirtatiously at her.

“Yes, I do take this fine specimen of man to be my husband,” she proclaimed, when prompted. Steve’s ears reddened and Sam snickered.

“…..to love, honor, and cherish, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, through alien attacks and allergy attacks, through portals and peril, through midnight snacks and cuddles, until death do us part.”

“Awwwww….” Wanda sighed.

Steve squeezed Darcy’s hands, looking like he wanted to kiss her right then and there.

“I take this amazing, beautiful, fearless woman to be my wife, to love, honor, and cherish in sickness and in health, through alien attacks and allergy attacks, through tasers and tesseracts, through slow dances and silliness, until death do us part.”

They’d gone off script, but clearly their friends appreciated it and applauded their ad-libbing.

“That was impressive,” Bucky murmured, as he handed Steve Darcy’s ring.

She gave him another one of those glowy smiles as he slipped it on her finger. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she was and how lucky he was.

Darcy slid Steve’s ring on with a dramatic flourish and then they were pronounced husband and wife and he was kissing her exuberantly.

Everyone cheered.

Afterward, as they meandered through the gardens, hand in hand, Darcy told him, “Today was a fairytale. This was so much better than the big shindig I used to imagine.”

“You’re not upset about not having the big party we talked about?” he asked, fingering one of the dangling curls by her cheek.

“No,” she told him. “It felt so right. So us.”

“It did,” he agreed. “You look completely radiant, Mrs. Rogers.”

Darcy flushed at his warm words.

“If you keep using that tone with me I’m not gonna be able to control myself,” she playfully warned, running her hand up his chest. Steve in a tux was a very impressive sight and she felt a strong urge to climb him like a tree.

“I’ve dreamed of this ever since I crashed into you in the hallway that first time,” she admitted, feeling his heartbeat beneath her fingers.

“Groping me or marrying me?” he asked in amusement.

“Yes,” she answered mischievously, making her new husband laugh and then kiss her again. When she’d finally regained her senses afterwards, she saw a very pleasing sight.

“Oh, look, babe, looks like Bucky’s getting cozy with Nat over there.”

Steve followed her gaze to see Bucky walking alongside Natasha very closely. He said something that made her throw back her head and laugh in a way that she very rarely did.

“Now that’s what I like to see,” he murmured.

“Right?” Darcy exclaimed. “I ship it so hard! They deserve it so much.”

“They do,” Steve agreed. “I hope they realize that. She spent so much time trying to find me a wife and now the shoe’s gonna be on the other foot.”

He rubbed his hands together, very ready to help the BuckyNat ship sail.

“First order of business when we get back from our honeymoon,” Darcy declared. “In the meantime, how about we sneak inside and find a handy closet where I can ravish you?”

“Much as I like that idea, you’d better make sure you’re done with pictures first, because when I get through with you…..” Steve playfully threatened, dropping his voice intentionally. Darcy gulped.

“Right. Good point. Excellent point,” she rambled, fanning herself. “We should probably quickly round up everyone for a group picture. I’ll go get Jane.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. You’ve got all of the sages, you’ve got LINK, you even have your draconic cheer squad up in the sky! If someone wanted to start something, this is the worst time and place to do it!” Impa snorted lightly. “The worst thing that’s happened has been Kohga’s wedding gift.” She pointed over to a gift containing two bunches of bananas, bearing the note Congrats on the Wedding, Princess Zelda! We’ll kill you, but we’ll do it later (we wouldn’t want to ruin your happy day. That would just be rude). - Hate and Stabbings, Lord Kohga and the Yiga Clan. “Fair, though that was surprisingly thoughtful of him. Did you see who dropped the gift off?” Zelda asked. “I don’t need them thinking they can actually attend.” “We did. He was disguised as Bolson, only to get caught by the ACTUAL Bolson. I think they made out a little.” Paya answered with a light giggle. “Rest assured, the Sheikah are checking the crowd regularly. You’ll be fine.” Zelda began nervously chewing on the handkerchief. “Okay, so the Yiga are clear… but what if there’s some other Calamity or Upheaval or something? What if Tarrey Town sinks into the lake? What if–” “Zelda…” Yona placed a hand on Zelda’s shoulder. “Calm down, please. Your friends are all here. We’ll keep you safe, no matter what, so just relax and enjoy things. This should be the happiest day of your life, after all… though I suspect there’s some major competition for that title.” She giggled lightly. “You mean the time my husband-to-be rescued me from a hundred years of bodiless war with living hate, or the time he rescued me from thousands of years of being asleep inside of my Secret Stone?” Zelda chuckled wryly. “Yeah, there’s some hefty competition, but all my best days are with Link.” “And now you’ll have another one!” Paya chimed in, happily. “And I’m sure Sir Link is just as nervous as you are!”