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When Zelda first picks up the lost swordsman's blade, shivers light up her spine, and she finds herself completely overwhelmed. The sword is heavy; yet it isn't, as if a different hand than her own held it up for her. Compared to the tri rod, the hilt is cumbersome, too wide for her to hold comfortably. The grip bites into her palm. Tri names her altered state of being her swordfighter form, like the power is Zelda's own, but Tri can't feel the whisper of a circle being rubbed into the back of her hand. It's alien, feeling a presence somehow outside of herself and not at the same time. She's grateful for the illusory comfort anyway.
She's never quite sure if the presence drawn over her by his sword is somehow the real Link, or just an echo of him. At first, she has trouble distinguishing between him and the Still World's strange energy. As she becomes accustomed to slipping in and out of swordfighter form, the difference becomes so clear she questions how it wasn't always obvious. Getting better acquainted with the vague shape of him does lead her into a bit of a predicament, though. That being that Zelda is desperately curious about Link.
He rescued her. He needs her to rescue him. She can only learn about him second hand from his neighbors and friends. She learns all she needs to every time his soul presses into her own and gives her whatever strength he can. Time and time again, she has needed to be faster, to jump a little higher, in order to return from the Still World unharmed.
Zelda sometimes worries about ascribing too many of her own feelings to the missing young man. Are the nerves she feels when she draws the sword his? Hers? Are they both skittish birds frightening each other by mistake? By all accounts, Link is very brave. He must be, to be the same determined boy who slayed the monster that imprisoned her. Does that mean he never gets nervous, though? Zelda thinks she's been very brave on this journey of hers, and some days she feels as if she's swimming in doubt and fear.
Swordfighter form helps, and not only in fighting monsters head on. The more of his things she collects, the stronger his presence becomes; if Zelda stands perfectly still, then wreathes herself in blue, it 's as if Link stands right beside her. On her loneliest night, far away from home and boxed in by danger, she reaches for him. Through the tide of the might crystals' energy, Zelda pleads for his company. By some miracle, the other's energy coursing through her must understand her wish. Link's presence swells. Zelda feels overfull of emotion-her vision blurs as tears fill her eyes. She still can't reach him, not when his real form is lost in the Still World, but Link's facsimile can hold her.
His touch is much heavier than the faint whisper it started as. Before, she could have convinced herself it was a trick of her own mind. Now, there is no denying that a solid weight rests against her back, or the arm snug across her waist, or the hand holding her own. Zelda leans fully into the phantom of care. She hides in the unspoken promises of safety and the kindness flooding her fragile body as long as she can. When swordfighter form runs out, Zelda sits gingerly on the ground, hugs her knees, and cries.
Zelda indulges in using Link's weapons for unintended purposes perhaps too often. Even in the Still World, when the stakes are highest, she sometimes nudges his guiding hand away from the hilt. Tentatively, his fingers glide up her arm. He always pauses at her shoulder, weightless and weighty at the same time, and leaves the impression of an encouraging squeeze. Zelda breathes a little easier, stands steadier, settled by the support. Once and only once, he moves out of position without her urging. She knocks an arrow in his bow the way he's shown her, draws it back to her ear as she's learned on her own, and the heartbeat between the arrow's flight and swordfighter form releasing she feels it. Link's fingers brush her cheek. As he fades, he swipes his thumb down the line of her jaw, prompting Zelda to blush.
Most hours, her attention has to be on her quest. She wants to save her kingdom. She must save her kingdom; she is the princess, people are counting on her, and she strives to do her best for them. To deliver them the bright future Hyrule deserves.
Still, she has to reserve time for herself on occasion. She only spends some of her resting hours dreaming about Link... they're very nice dreams. Zelda imagines him cradling her face in truth, warm and solid. Surely, he would be sturdy, solid and dependable and perfect for leaning into. She could collapse into him and know he would catch her. She also toyed with the idea that maybe she wanted to catch him instead, have him look upon her with awe and trust and collapse into her embrace, allow her to hold him still long enough to really look at him. Much longer than the fleeting glimpses she's had so far.
The fanciful reunion she dreams of between dives into the Still World doesn't materialize when they unite in person. There's no time for flights of fancy; when she returns the favor he did for her at the start of this mess, they are swiftly thrown into battle against the true source of the darkness swallowing her kingdom. Zelda has to give him back his things. It feels like untying a lifeline, as if any part of him she's had will be gone forever, but she has to have faith.
Afterward, Tri leaves her.
Their return to the real world, victorious, shouldn't make her cry. She's happy for Tri, really. They can go with their friends to wherever tris go-surely, even if they were only created to seal rifts, the goddesses gave them a home to return to. A place to rest and celebrate.
Zelda doesn't feel much like celebrating right this moment. She will, she will, because her people will expect her to share their relief. Even if, as she finds herself back in the Eternal Forest, Zelda can barely feel anything past her own exhaustion. She forgets completely to reach for Link.
He reaches out to her instead. Zelda startles when he places a hand on her shoulder. She jerks her gaze from the middle distance and meets his eyes out of habit. They're blown wide, but she watches uncertainty bloom across his face at her reaction, which twists some new part of her heart that somehow wasn't in knots yet.
"Hi," she rasps. That's wrong, why is her voice so scratchy? She swallows.
Link hesitates. Then, she sees what must be his brave face; his eyes narrow, he squares his shoulders near imperceptibly, and then he...oh. He brushes away a tear track from her cheek with the hand not already steadying her. What a mess she's made. A choppy giggle falls out of her. Her whole body falls briefly out of her control, lax with relief, exhaustion, and a faint ringing in her ears she won't name hysteria.
"I..." I had a friend. I had a companion with me who was strange and lovely. I had them and now they're gone forever. "I'm a bit flustered, I admit. I've never saved the world before."
Under the canopy of the Eternal Forest, Link looks ethereal. In the mist and scattered sunlight, he looks more unreal than his echo, yet his hands are warm. So long has she yearned for more than the fleeting impression of touch, and now that she has it she can hardly believe it. It's real, though. The touch is too warm, too solid, too lively to be anything she's conjured. Link smiles awkwardly, and that's not ethereal at all- it's better, because it's real, and it suits him. His hand on her shoulder stays, but he drops the one from her face to his side. He tries to, anyway, stopped by Zelda catching it halfway and bringing it back to her cheek.
"Let me tell you something," she whispers. "Over the course of this debacle, I've used your sword to fight monsters, and when I did so I felt as though you were there. Now, you tell me something, Link. Did you ever feel anything like that?"
She expects him to nod yes. She braces her heart for him to shake his head no, too. Zelda does not prepare for him to kiss her.
It's incredibly forward of him; he'd seemed so aware of her station before, and now to be so bold as to kiss her! It doesn't make sense unless he really had been aware of all the times she called for him. Her heart soars. The press of his lips is gentle against her own, Like his own way to say hello. She answers in kind, trusting him to stay where she wants him and throwing both of her arms around his neck.
She's too exuberant in her movement. Zelda throws her arms around his neck, yes, and ends up throwing the rest of her directly into him. He moves fast to widen his stance and keeps them both standing, but she so embarrassed she turns her face away. "I'm so sorry, that was so ungraceful, I-"
Link laughs. It’s a very pleasant laugh, warm, good-natured, and just this side of dry. He jumps a the sound. It takes her a moment to realize what's happening.
"Link!" Her embarrassment is thrown aside immediately. She takes a quarter step backward only to look at him fully. Astonishment and wonder set him alight. She cups his face in her hands and smiles just as sunnily. "You got your voice back!"
"You know about that?"
Right. They are technically strangers. "Robbie had a lot to say about you."
"Of course he did," Link grumbles, though he doesn't seem put out at all.
"Be nice," she chides anyway. "He's also been very worried about you."
Link softens, and tells her, "He's been looking after me for a long time. I'll be glad to see him again." He turns his head and kisses the palm of her hand. Zelda nearly swoons. "He'll survive waiting a little longer, though. Don't you think so, Princess?"
"Zelda," she blurts out. She didn't quite plan on saying that, but she's having a hard time hearing her own thoughts when they've all turned to butterflies, so she keeps on her course. "You should call me Zelda."
He blinks nervously at her. Then, she watches with fascination as he gets redder and redder, his blush climbs upwards spreading all across his pretty face, until even the tips of his ears give him away. Link clears his throat. She wonders how much warmer his lips would feel if she kisses him now.
"Umm." It's barely a sound. He gulps.
"Go on," she goads. It's probably not very kind to tease him, yet she can't bring herself to feel bad. He's just battled a monster beyond fathoming and trembles at a word; it's ridiculous, and endearing, as is the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. She thinks she could watch him fluster all day. She wants to hear him say her name.
"Are you sure, Princess, um, Princess Zelda?"
She bites down her growing grin. "You're almost there," she teases. How could she have known he could be so shy? Why hadn't anyone told her? "I am certain, Link."
She over enunciates the final plosive of his own name, wondering if it might spur him. It certainly moves him, though she's just as ill prepared for his kiss a second time around. Moreso-he's not gentle this time.
Zelda's hands fall away from his face in shock. She clings to his hair instead, raking through it furiously. Link devours her. He holds her right hip tightly, keeping them so very close, while another hand rests between her shoulder blades; he doesn't keep her guessing why there, quickly using it to support her as he bends her backwards. She loses track of when he opens her mouth, only that her toes curl in her boots.
She wobbles. For a moment, she wonders if she'll unbalance completely and fall to the grass. Link would follow her down, maybe he'd get on top of her...
Link catches her before she falls. He eases their lean slowly so she can get her feet back under her. Notably, he starts biting her lips, which makes focusing on her footing difficult. Once she can stand on her own again she puts a hand to his chest and lightly pushes him away. Her featherlight press does not move him, but he heeds the request behind it.
"Do you," her breath fails her. She has to spend three breaths remembering how to inhale the reasonable way, and when she looks up from the grass Link is smirking. She glares. "You are quite impertinent."
Link shrugs at her. Shrugs! He answers, "You are quite incorrigible, Zelda."
Try as he might, her name is uttered breathlessly, which makes the sound of it even sweeter than she thought it might be. She grants him peck on his lips as reward. Reward for herself, of course, for getting her way.
"All I've heard for so long is about your brave, helpful nature. I wish someone had relayed that you're so sweet."
"Sweet? If one of us is sweet, it is not me, Princess."
She rolls her eyes. "Must only one of us be sweet?"
He laughs. She wants to make him laugh all the time. His smile is so handsome. "You're right, that was foolish of me."
He looks up to the sky, closing his eyes against some unseen feeling, then turns to her. His eyes flit between her and the sky once, then he smiles softly at her, holding out a hand.
She takes it. However, not without reminding him not to call her princess. He nods in suspiciously easy agreement.
Link asks, "Should we be going, sweetheart?"
She giggles. Ridiculous. She should have guessed that someone who worked so closely with Robbie might be so, but she hadn't even considered it. She can't wait to learn all the other secrets of his heart she's yet to find.
"Yes, I suppose we should be, sweetest." He huffs at her, but accepts her victory.
His hand squeezes her own. Together they leave the forest behind and head toward Castle Town, the kingdom unbroken before them, their hands swinging gently as they walk.