Chapter Text
With the passage of time came the comfort of routine, blessed normalcy. After everything he has seen and done, Link is glad to have little more to worry about than chopping enough firewood for the week.
Each morning starts the same nowadays. He wakes up just before dawn, weak light barely stretching across the horizon, Zelda still sleeping beside him on the bed. At first, sharing the bed in his little home in Hateno had been nothing short of an ordeal for him. She was right there. Right next to him. He could smell the flowery scent of her hair on the pillowcase.
But now, six months or so since everything ended, it was just normal. And it probably helped that he now insisted on sleeping on a bedroll downstairs. Sharing the bed with her was nice, but he just couldn't stand it. She had that effect on him, making him feel restless and seen and pinned down.
He always got up as quietly as he could, hoping not to wake Zelda. It was hard-wired into him to be up at first light from his time in the barracks, so deeply set into his routine that even a hundred years in stasis and a complete personality reset couldn't rid him of the habit. Though Zelda often tried to convince him that it was perfectly alright for him to sleep in, to take it easy, to rest, he always heard the echo of his now long-dead commanding officer. 'Out of bed, soldier! Get that bed made! Get out on the field! There's work to be done!'
Link doesn't really mind it, if he's being honest. Especially on days like this, in late autumn, where the sunrise is pale and gentle as it breaks through the nightly blanket of fog. Mist is settled low on Hateno, brushing against fields of crops and open pastures where cows and goats and sheep are only just starting to stir. The air itself is crisp and invigorating, filling him up with the desire to work as he stretches and yawns by the bed.
They had a lot to do in order to prepare for winter; Link has had to walk Zelda through all of it, as she has never had to do any of this herself. Though she apologizes for her lack of practical knowledge on both survival and housekeeping, Link is happy to have something to share with her. They've already gone through and cured a bunch of meat, dried some herbs, and canned vegetables. Today they'll likely need to get the house itself ready by blocking the windows and clearing out the fireplace.
However, before they do anything, they'll need breakfast.
He makes his way downstairs, not bothering to change out of the clothes he slept in. A quick glance at their pantry reveals six cuckoo eggs left ( he'll have to go get more) and some bread he and Zelda made together. He gathers up everything he needs and shuffles over to the wood-burning stove, dumping the ingredients on the small counter next to it before crouching down to start a fire in the stove's cast iron belly.
While that heats up, he cracks the eggs over a ceramic bowl and starts whisking them together, adding salt and a little bit of rosemary without really thinking about it. The heat from the stove starts to permeate the small house, bleeding into the floorboards beneath his bare feet. Normally, once it gets cold like this, he'll leave embers smoldering in the stove overnight to keep the house somewhat warm. But it slipped his mind last night, and he had not expected it to get this cold so suddenly.
He uses a small knife to cut a few chunks of goat butter and throw it in a skillet, letting it melt down before adding the eggs. He keeps an eye on it while slicing up the last of their bread for toast, and setting the table with some fruit, wildberry jam, and a trivet for the teapot.
Speaking of which, he gets the old copper teapot down and fills it with water from the water jug, then puts it over the other burner of the stove to boil. Link usually just has water with breakfast, but today he's feeling like he might have a cup of tea instead. Something about chilly autumn mornings make it an indulgence he can afford.
Just as he's setting their breakfast on the table, Zelda is coming down the stairs from the landing above, wrapped in the blanket from the bed and looking positively miserable. Link watches her drop into her usual chair. "Are you alright?" he asks.
She huffs, gathering the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "It's gotten cold."
"It has," Link agrees, barely hiding his amusement as he pours her a cup of tea. "Once we get the windows blocked off and everything, it won't be as cold in here." He gently sets her mug in front of her, next to her plate of eggs and toast.
Zelda goes for the tea first, taking a long, indulgent sip as she drinks in the flavor and the warmth. "You're too good to me, Link," she sighs.
He grins, shaking his head but not arguing, even though he would like to. 'Nothing is too good for you,' he would like to say. But he doesn't want to start an argument with her over him 'not accepting compliments'. Instead, he spreads a large glob of jam over his toast, and takes a bite.
Zelda giggles, and he frowns at her. "What?" he asks.
She gives him a mischievous look from behind the blanket. "You have jam on your face."
Only a little embarrassed, he tries to wipe it off. After a few attempts, Zelda gets up, dropping the blanket, and moves to stand next to him.
He looks up at her, transfixed, as she gently takes his chin and tilts his head back a bit. With the other hand, she wipes away the bright red jam with her thumb. Opting to not waste it, she licks it off her thumb with a satisfied smack of her lips. "There you go," she says.
She holds his chin a moment longer, staring down at him with warm eyes. The chill in the air has left a bit of red on her cheeks, which makes the green of her eyes stand out even more than usual. The feeling of her hand on his face sends tingling warmth spreading through him like whiskey, making him feel equally drunk.
Then she goes back to her side of the table, as if she hadn't just left Link in shambles where he sits.
---
The strange event at breakfast is soon forgotten, as the sun is now properly risen and bathing Hateno Village in its golden light.
Everyone in town has apparently taken notice of the early frost from this morning and the main thoroughfare of the village is packed. Link and Zelda wander into the fray, less frazzled than their neighbors due to Link's knowledge of weather patterns and Zelda's desire to learn, as well the need both have to be overly prepared. The two of them weave through the small crowd at the general store, avoiding the cramped shop altogether as Link leads them toward the hill at the center of town.
Zelda, afraid of getting separated, grabs his hand as she walks next to him. "Looks like everyone is getting ready for winter," she remarks.
Link nods. "Yeah, that cold snap we had last night put frost on the grass, and the frost shouldn't be here for at least another few weeks."
"Is that something to be concerned about?" Zelda asks, tensing up.
"Not really," Link says with a casual shrug. "Some years it comes early, some years it comes late. Best to be prepared before it decides to come."
Zelda smiles fondly. "Is that what your father taught you?"
"Yes," Link says, returning her smile, though his is a bit more bittersweet. "He was a soldier too, but since we lived here in Hateno, there's really no way to escape it. Farm life is everything out here, and even if you don't farm anything yourself, if you live here long enough you just... Adapt to it."
Zelda is always wary of asking Link anything about his family. She knows, from how his gaze is far away even as they keep walking, and how he holds her hand just a little bit tighter, that the memory of them is as painful as a fresh wound. His mother died when he was young, not long after his sister, Aryll, was born. But Aryll and his father... There was no telling what had happened to them, only that they were long gone.
Link didn't even have a gravestone to visit. Zelda assumes that's why he gets so quiet and distant whenever they're brought up; he's never really had the chance to mourn. Zelda went to her father's grave, laid flowers on it, sobbed openly into the cold air at the loss. But she grieved, and she got it out, and she moved on.
She wants to encourage Link to open up more, to be himself. They aren't waiting for the next doomsday anymore, they're only waiting for winter. And winter will pass. He can relax now, let go of that awful tension that kept him going through two near apocalypses. But there's still a lot weighing on him, something that holds him back from finally allowing himself the sublime release of letting go.
They come upon Tokk's house and Link buys two dozen cuckoo eggs, which should be enough to last them a few weeks. Tokk puts them in an old wicker basket and covers them with a cloth, and Zelda opts to carry it in the crook of her elbow. After Tokk's, they stop at Reede's house to buy some candles and lantern oil from his wife, along with a box of flint that Reede had been saving back for them. Their last stop is at Uma's house, to get some herbs, both for cooking and medicine.
Uma welcomes them into her home, leading them to a small storage room where her herbs are strung up in bundles. "I knew the frost was coming," she tells them. "My bones have been aching all week."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Link says.
"Oh, don't be," Uma replies, waving away Link's concern. "Just part of getting old. Now, what can I bag up for you?"
Link pulls a list from his pocket, written in his own terrible handwriting. From what Zelda can read, it's a list of what he needs. Link looks over it then says, "I need some yarrow... Willow bark... Rosemary and thyme... And some mint, if you have any."
Uma laughs. "Oh, I have plenty of mint. It grows like a weed, so it does. I'll even give it to you for free."
Link balks at the offer. "Oh, no, I couldn't take it for free. You put so much work into growing all these different herbs!"
"And like I said," Uma says as she gathers up everything Link asked for, including a bundle of mint as big around as tree branch, "this stuff grows so fast I can barely keep it in the garden. You're doing me a favor by taking it. Oh! And something nice for Miss Zelda."
Uma adds a bundle of lavender on top of the other herbs, then hands it to Zelda with a wink. "It makes for a lovely tea, especially before bedtime."
Zelda gasps softly at the kind gesture. "Thank you! I can't wait to try it. I'll have some tonight."
Link pays fifty rupees for everything, and they head out. Both are blissfully unaware of the wistful smile on Uma's face as they turn to leave, with Zelda taking Link's arm with hers.
"Aah, to be young and in love," Uma says to herself, shutting the door after them as they leave.
---
Link and Zelda make their way back onto the main road in town, and while it's still a bit busy, it's calmed down quite a bit. They're still arm-in-arm as they walk onto the thoroughfare, and Link tries very hard to ignore the whisper of gossiping wives as they make their way to the dirt path leading back to their house.
As they pass Cece's clothing shop, Lasli is outside with a table full of her own handmade clothes for sale. The chill in the air doesn't seem to bother her at all, likely thanks to her Sheikah outfit. A few villagers are looking over what Lasli has set out, mostly scarves and shawls and winter gloves.
Zelda tugs lightly on his arm. "We should go take a look," she says eagerly. "I don't have much in the way of winter clothes."
Link nods in agreement, and they make their way over.
Lasli notices them making their way through the small crowd and waves them over. "Hey you guys! I was hoping I'd see you out and about today!"
"Hello Lasli," Link says.
"Hi Lasli," Zelda says; then, "What are you selling today?"
"Just some cold weather accessories I knitted. Cece has been kind enough to allow me to sell outside her shop, and I've been getting yarn dyed at Kochi's shop so I can make these. What d'you think?" Lasli rambles, barely containing her excitement.
Link looks down at the table; as well as the scarves, shawls, and gloves he noticed a moment ago, there's also socks and a couple large, fluffy blankets with a bright pattern knitted into them.
Zelda is much more interested, letting go of Link to come closer to the table. She brushes her fingers delicately across one of the scarves. "They're so soft," she observes.
"Oh yes," Lasli says encouragingly, always eager to make a sale. "The wool is from Hateno sheep! These will keep you nice a cozy all winter, no doubt about it!"
Link is a little bemused at the hard sell, but that's just how Lasli is. While Zelda and Lasli talk about how lovely the wool is, Link lets his attention wander a bit. There is a shawl on the table that catches his eye; it's a deep, rich shade of plum, with a thick cable knit design of geometric shapes. The hem is adorned with little tassels, each tied with a small glass bead that catches the light and causes a brilliant shimmering effect.
He may not know much about fashion or clothes. He can barely take care of his own clothes. But he knows in that very instance that this shawl would look no less than stunning on Zelda.
He holds it up, and interrupts Lasli as she describes the yarn making process to an enraptured Zelda. "Sorry, how much for this?"
Lasli recovers quickly from being interrupted. "Ooh, you like that one, huh? Well, the dye is a bit more expensive so I have to ask for a bit more."
"That's understandable," Link says.
"Well, in that case," Lasli says, " That one I'll sell to you for 150 rupees."
Zelda seems a bit surprised at the cost, but Link was expecting more. Of course, Lasli is quick to explain.
"If it were anyone else, I would charge the full amount! But I remember how you helped my Granny after she came in contact with the gloom. The least I can do is knock a few rupees off, right?" she says brightly.
Link shakes his head as Lasli opens her palm to receive his money. He passes two silver rupees over, and cuts Lasli off before she can protest. "I'll pay this much," he says with a smile.
Ignoring Lasli's polite refusals, he then drapes the shawl over Zelda's shoulders, and takes a step back to admire the effect. "It suits you," he tells her.
Zelda stands there, surprised, slowly reaching up to touch the woolen shawl. "Oh, Link... You didn't have to--"
"Well, I already did," he says with a little laugh.
She blushes. "You shouldn't spend all your money on me."
"I wanted to buy it for you," he says gently. "Besides, you said you need warmer clothes. This is something you can wear every day."
"I suppose..." Zelda says. Though she has her reservations about Link spending so much money on her, she can't help but pull the shawl around her shoulders with an indulgent sigh.
Lasli, having given up on arguing about the money, fawns over Zelda like a doting older sister. "It really does look wonderful on you! That color really brings out your eyes!"
Zelda blushes a bit, then turns to Link, standing there smiling serenely, a bit of a glint in his eye. "You really didn't have to-" she starts.
Link quickly but gently interrupts her. "It really does look nice on you," he says, looking away from her nervously as color spreads over his own cheeks.
Zelda runs her fingers over the tassels, watching the glass beads catch the light. "Well, um. Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replies, fidgeting a bit.
She stares openly at him. Even after everything they've been through together, after everything that's happened, she still finds him to be a tough nut to crack. He keeps so much of himself hidden, some long-held habit from his former life before the Calamity; even now, when he's more open with his emotions and speaks more freely, there are parts of him that he can't seem to bring into the light of day. She wants to know all of him, even the messy parts; the part of him that is awake in the middle of the night, sitting at the kitchen table and fletching arrows, alert to every sound outside the house like a nervous cat. The part of him that stares into the middle distance, absentmindedly running the tips of his fingers along some old scar. The part of him that hums when he cooks, that watches birds fly overhead with a soft smile, that climbs trees just because he wants to.
Link, for his part, always feels her eyes on him, but especially now. It's burned into him, deep and low, to stand up straight and be respectful under her watch. But, oh, how he longs to just let go. To reach out to her, bring her closer. Tell her she isn't alone in this world, that she at least has him. That he would do anything for her; buying a shawl so she doesn't get cold, cooking her favorite meal, getting Bolson to dig that well for her private study. Anything for her, anything she wants. Not because he's her knight, though he still considers himself her sworn protector, even if the governing body that gave him that duty burned to the ground a hundred years ago. No, it's because something about her stirs up a feeling in him that he thought was long dead, that had died the moment he pulled the Master Sword. Her kind smile when he looks her way makes him feel like he's floating in the clouds, not a care in the world, as light as an arrant leaf caught on the wind.
Lasli clears her throat, loudly and pointedly, interrupting whatever moment was unfolding before her. Link nearly jumps out of his own skin, looking around a bit frantically, seeing other villagers approaching the table. "Oh, sorry, Lasli," he says as he steps out of the way. "We should probably, um. We should go."
Zelda turns to leave as Link puts a guiding hand at her back, weaving their way through the dwindling crowds. His touch is feather-soft, barely felt through her new shawl and cotton dress. But it's still there, pressing ever so gently against her skin.
She wonders, as his hand drifts away once they're climbing the hill leading to their house, what would that touch feel like with no barriers? His gentle hands on her bare skin, no hesitation from either of them.
She shivers and pulls the shawl closer, hoping Link, who's still walking right next to her, doesn't notice the blush returning to her face at full force.
---
By the end of the week, Hateno village has a thin dusting of snow covering it. The fields are empty, though the livestock venture out to pick at the grass still standing, not bothered by the chill blowing in from Lanayru Mountain. The quiet is starting to settle in, like it does every year when it gets cold like this, and for Link, he has a love-hate relationship with winter.
On the one hand, the quiet is appreciated. The calm settles into him and stills the rush of introspection he usually is forced to endure in autumn, watching the world fade away into firey colors. On the other hand, though, he feels restless. He's already chopped nearly a month's worth of firewood, done enough hunting for himself and Zelda and probably half the village, giving away salt-cured deer meat once they've run out of room in the cellar. He can only do so much cooking and tidying and making arrows before he's completely out of things to do. Usually by early afternoon.
Today is no different; the air is still cold, but the sun was out this morning, so he went out on the roof to patch a few spots that looked like they could start leaking if left alone. That took up most of his morning, and now he's peeling an apple, slowly and methodically, using a pocket knife. The peel remains in one long, red ribbon, trailing to the floor beneath the chair he borrowed from the kitchen table. It's the third apple he's peeled so far; he thought about possibly making apple pie, but he might just make apple butter instead. Winter just isn't the right time for apple pie.
Zelda is at the school, like she is most days. She's been teaching the kids basic arithmetic, something that he wouldn't be much help at. He can certainly count, but she doesn't need his help teaching it. If she were teaching cooking again, of course, he would be happy to help.
He looks up, halfway through skinning the apple, to glance at the sky through the small window. Around noon, the sun was buried under low-flying clouds, murky grey and promising snow. He's been keeping an eye on it all day, uncertain as to whether the snow will be another light dusting or the inevitable offload that'll cover the town like a thick, white blanket. It makes him a bit nervous, thinking of Zelda and the kids trying to walk home in a blizzard, full white-out conditions, the wind stealing every ounce of warmth. And Zelda has the farthest to walk.
He sets the half-peeled apple aside, tosses his pocket knife onto the table so he can clean it later (he'll likely forget), and goes to look out the front door.
The wind is certainly kicking up, moving the clouds across the sky like a giant river rushing overhead. A few big, fat snowflakes drift along the cold air, and every second he watches, more are falling. With a frown, he leans further out the door and glances to the northeastern sky, toward Mount Lanayru, where the snow usually comes from. Just as he suspected, the sky is dark and heavy, the air blurred with falling snow. By his reckoning, they'll have a few inches on the ground within the next hour at least. By the time Zelda is done at the school, there could be as much as a foot of it.
He shuts the door, biting his lip. Reconciled or not, Zelda doesn't like him worrying over her. Though she is a lot nicer about it now, much more sympathetic and less annoyed, it still bothers her, and he can tell. If he goes tearing off for the school to insist she cut the school day short, she'll most likely refuse.
Instead, he paces around the main room of the house, twisting his fingers together nervously, trying to find some solution to this problem. He doesn't want to crowd her, but he must keep her safe. He doesn't want to take her from her favorite thing, teaching at the school, but if he waits too long he might as well not go at all. But then, walking back home in the bitter cold would be tolerable with company, right? Maybe he could go up to the school and wait for it to let out, then walk home with her. Then she gets to finish her day and doesn't have to brave the elements on her own.
With that decided, Link grabs an old woolen cloak and runs out the door.
---
Zelda finishes writing a few basic addition and subtraction problems on the chalkboard, having copied them from an old book used to teach children at Castle Town. She had found it in a pile of other books near where the chapel had once been; most of the books had been beyond saving, so just having one had been a godsend. It's been a huge help in teaching basic math to the children, having a lesson plan premade that guides them through each step of the process so that they'll understand what it is they're doing, not just how to get the right answer.
She sets the book on her desk and turns to face her class of four students, who are diligently copying down the problems. Sefaro, however, has become distracted. He keeps glancing at the doorway, frowning.
Zelda clears her throat. "Sefaro, is there something wrong?"
Sefaro jumps a little at being caught. "No, Miss Zelda, no, not at all...! It's just... Um..." He trails off as he looks toward the door again.
Zelda heaves a sigh; as much as she loves teaching the children, sometimes their attention span is bit too short for her liking. She makes her way toward the door. "I'll check on it. Please get started on your math problems."
She can hear Sefaro mumbling under his breath, but since he's doing what he's told and working on the math problems, she chooses to ignore it. As she approaches the door, she can see how dark the sky has become, and how heavily it's snowing. She was so absorbed in the lesson, she entirely forgot that it was likely to snow before she got home.
She opens the door and looks outside to see what has captured Sefaro's attention during lessons, and she nearly cries out in shock. Link is standing with his back against the building, wrapped up in a dusty old cloak with little else to protect him from the frigid wind howling down from the mountains. He's currently blowing into his hands to warm them up. "Link!" She cries.
He jumps, and whips around to face her fully. "Zelda! I, uh-"
Zelda quickly walks out into the winter storm, closing the door behind her so as not to let the heat from the hearth out. "What on earth are you doing? You must be freezing!"
Link seems a bit taken aback at her concern. "W-well uh. I thought, um. I thought that-"
"Nevermind," Zelda says over his stammering. "Come inside." She takes ahold of his arm and starts pulling him toward the door.
"I didn't wanna interrupt," he says miserably. "But I was worried about you and the kids, with the weather and all."
She turns back to him again just as she's about to open the door, unable to stop the smile from blooming on her face. "That is very considerate. We can discuss your thought process once you're inside."
He has the decency to look properly chastised as they walk in; the kids all gasp with excitement when they see him, but fall silent again when they see the look on his face. Zelda leads Link over to the fireplace and instructs him to sit, which he does immediately and without complaint, though still looking very guilty.
Zelda goes to the front of the room to address her class. "Now listen, everyone. The weather has taken a turn for the worse, so we'll be cutting class short today."
The kids moan in disapproval, and Zelda tuts softly. "None of that, I promise we'll have lessons again once the snow clears up. For now, though, I want to make sure you all get home before the weather gets any worse. Go ahead and turn in your work, we'll finish it later if you're not done, and get your coats on. We'll all go together."
While the children are occupied with taking their math problems up to the desk and getting ready to leave, Zelda goes back to where she left Link. "Are you alright?"
He huffs sadly, not meeting her eye. "I could've waited outside, I didn't want to interrupt your lesson. I know how much you love teaching the kids."
"I do," she says, wary of his strange mood. "But I wouldn't want you to stand out in the cold like that. Why wouldn't you just come in and tell me the weather had gotten bad?"
"I thought..." he begins, shifting around a bit. "I thought it would be better if I waited, so you could finish the lesson. And then I could walk you home. I thought it would be better than just barging in. I didn't want to make you upset."
She suddenly remembers, before the Calamity, before everything. Standing at the Ancient Columns, shouting at him to leave her alone. To stop following her. To not bother her while she was researching. That Link, the one that took the verbal abuse without even a blink, was long dead. This Link before her, though, he remembers that moment too. He knows how passionate she is about her various projects, including the school, and she can see how he would think that she would react negatively to him swooping in and telling her to come home.
But, she thinks, this Zelda was also reborn from that old, pre-Calamity way of life. She leans down and gently turns his face toward her, letting her hand linger there. "Link. I am sorry if I ever gave you the impression that you couldn't come get me while I'm working on something."
He stares at her, his blue eyes so vivid against the cold-induced blush on his face. His expression is unreadable to her, but she doesn't have time to delve into it. "Let's get the children home safe. Once we're back home ourselves, we can talk about it. Okay?"
"Okay," he says, soft and unsteady.
She smiles warmly at him before turning to her students, who are finishing up getting ready to leave. She claps her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Alright, is everyone ready? Let's be off."
---
The snow is now piling up, making the winding roads nearly impassable. Link shudders to think of Zelda trying to make her way across the rope bridge leading to their house while this wind whips around. Even without the snow and the bitter cold, the wind is a force of its own. The house creaks and moans around him, branches snap off the trees outside and clatter onto the roof. He'll have a hell of a mess to clean up once spring comes.
Right now, he's sitting in front of the fireplace on Zelda's orders. She's manning the kettle, fixing a cup of peppermint tea for both of them, using the peppermint Link bought earlier in the week. He watches her pour out two very different cups; the first is made strong, with as much peppermint as she could fit in the cheesecloth they use for tea. She adds a lot of milk and sugar, and a tiny dash of whiskey. There's no doubt that that's his. He likes his tea strong and extra sweet, whereas Zelda prefers hers to be light and only sweetened with a single spoonful of honey.
The whiskey, he suspects, is simply to calm his nerves, possibly to warm him up. They only got back from walking the kids home in the past fifteen minutes or so, and he still has a shiver rip through him every now and then. Zelda may not know everything about keeping house or storing food, but she's learned a lot about home remedies. It's the only reason they have whiskey to begin with.
She brings the tea over, handing Link his usual brown mug before sitting next to him, huddled into her shawl and taking a dainty sip.
He has some as well; the sweetness is undercut with the burn of the whiskey. It's barely enough for him to taste it, but it is there. "You spiked my drink," he says.
Zelda hums. "Thought you could use a little something to warm you up."
He takes another measured sip. The extra sugar melts over his tongue and he sighs contentedly. "Can't argue with that, I suppose."
They sit there, the only sound being from the crackling fire and the howling wind. She's sitting very close, he suddenly realizes; barely a couple inches between them. It may be the whiskey but he suspects that the warmth he feels spreading over him is more from her than the fireplace. She certainly has that effect on him, making him feel drunk and stupid but finding bliss in such a condition.
Once the quiet has settled around them, Zelda breaks it. "I want you to know..." she begins softly, sounding very sincere. "I want you to know that I am sorry for how I treated you when we first met."
He resists the urge to laugh; now doesn't seem to be the best time for levity. "I know you never meant it. I saw what you were going through."
She doesn't immediately respond. When she does, though, her voice is heavy with emotion. "The thought of you being afraid to come to me for any reason... Because you think I'll be upset... Link, I want you to know that I will never take my anger out on you again. I want you to interrupt me when I'm working. I love it when you come down the well! I love seeing what you think of my research, and I love having you at the school."
He stares into the depths of his tea, wondering how it could be possible that it's already half gone. "I didn't think you would yell at me, necessarily. I just didn't want you to be sad."
She makes a tiny noise, and before he can even look up, she closes the tiny bit of space between them, pulling him close to her. His head rests upon her shoulder of its own accord, and her hand starts running over his hair as she speaks softly. "Oh, Link... You simply must stop doing these things."
He is very confused. "Uh. What did I do?"
She laughs as she presses her face into the crown of his head. "You always give so much of yourself. You put yourself into such dangerous situations. But you never take anything in return."
He wants to say that it's all he's ever known. The person he was before destiny and duty were thrust upon him is so distant, so separated from who he is now, that might as well be a past life, or a vision from a dream. All he's known for certain is that he's been put here to protect others, to save this land, and most of all, keep Zelda safe.
He doesn't say anything, though. He lets Zelda hold him, lets her pet his hair and fuss over him, if it'll make her feel better. And if it makes him feel a little better too, well. He's not gonna complain.
They sit like that until the whiskey has turned off most of his logical brain. Eventually, Zelda gives him a little nudge. "Time for bed."
He hums, regarding his empty mug with disappointment, then looking over to the corner where his bedroll is tucked up against the wall. "I don't wanna get up and make the bed." He isn't drunk, she didn't put enough alcohol in his tea for that. But the inhibitions he usually hides comfortably behind are fully down.
Zelda gets to her feet, tugging him up along with her. "You can share with me, in the actual bed. I've been trying to tell you this whole time I've lived with you, the bed is big enough for both of us."
"Mmm... I don't know. I don't wanna impose," he says as he rubs his face, fighting the sleepiness creeping up on him.
Zelda barely hides a scoff. "There you go again. For goodness sake, Link, it's your house."
"It's our house," he replies without thinking.
She laughs and takes his hands in hers. "Come on, you're falling asleep right here on your feet."
He doesn't have it in him to argue. She leads him upstairs, over to the bed. He sits on it, the mattress blessedly soft and warm. It takes him all of three seconds before he gives in and falls onto the pillow, letting out a content sigh. Zelda settles in next to him, pulling the blanket over them both.
The scent of her, like flowers and fields full of clover, wraps around him. Why has he spent so long sleeping on the floor? Why did he deny himself this small comfort? What's he so afraid of...?
The questions remain unanswered; he is mere moments from falling asleep, with the comforting presence of Zelda right next to him. It's gonna the best sleep he's had in months.
Maybe at some point he'll find the courage to understand this feeling she brings out of him. Maybe this night broke through some barrier that he erected for some unknown reason, and after this, it'll be easier. Maybe he won't be afraid to let her see him in moments of weakness, to see him as a flawed human and not a living legend, the representation of some stray desire of long forgotten goddesses.
Maybe he could start seeing himself like that, too.