DAY 13 - SPIRIT

DAY 13 - SPIRIT

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Sketchy Post-TotK fluff ❤️

No more nightmares. His Zelda is really back. Link can sleep peacefully ❤️ Cheers!

Hateno Mornings ft. Married Life <3

The Gem of Hateno

The grass underfoot made no noise; heavy boots stepped silently through the glade. The rays of the afternoon sun filtered down from the thick canopy of broad-leafed trees. An inhale, held in the nose. Tall antlers poked out of the underbrush; wild, curious eyes peeking out, scanning the forest for threats.

One arrow nocked. Another dozen in a quiver at his hip. The bowstring groaned softly in his ear as he pulled it taut, lining up the shot.

Exhale.

The buck let out a half-strangled cry of surprise as the arrow lodged itself in his forehead. A loud thump shook the ground as the animal fell.

Silence once more.

Link crept through the grass and bushes, careful not to get himself tangled in any stray climbing vines that snaked across the forest floor. He stopped where the buck fell, whistling low to himself as he counted the points on the antlers. Fourteen. His best one this week. A quick scan of the buck solidified his estimations. He’d get a good price on this one. The muscles were thick, and the pelt unscarred.

Grabbing the buck under the front legs, Link hoisted it onto his shoulder. The antlers dangled back and forth as he walked it out to the edge of the forest. A black-dappled horse nickered as he approached. Foxes and ducks hung by ropes on the saddlebags – the morning’s hunt.

Link clicked his tongue in reply, grinning at his companion. He patted the white part of its neck before tossing the buck across the horse’s hips. “Not bad, huh, Spot?” Link secured the buck with ropes, giving them a few tugs to ensure their strength. He climbed onto Spot’s back, taking the mount’s reins and turning them back toward the village. A distant bell chimed, its hollow clanging ringing through the valley. He counted four tolls.

The children would have gone home two hours ago. Dantz’s shop will close in an hour. Link grinned to himself, remembering the last time he walked up that hill at five. Dantz saw him coming a long ways off and stood at the edge of the farm with his arms crossed. “I should have known I wouldn’t get to close up early today.” The older man huffed, shaking his head. “There is such a thing as being too good of a hunter, you know.”

Thadd waved as Link rode in through the gate. “What, not a Bokoblin this time?”

Link laughed. “’Fraid not. Why? Seen one?”

Thadd shrugged. “Not personally. Met a traveler earlier who said there was a camp near the Cliffs of Quince.”

Link raised a brow, his grip on the reins tightening. It would take two hours to ride out that way, even at a moderate clip. He’d have to drop off the haul first…

Thadd waved his hands. “I’m sure there’s no need to go bolting off that way now. It didn’t sound urgent. A couple of red ones, no more than three, and they didn’t even notice him on the road. He just heard them squealing up on top of the cliff.” He scratched his chin. “If you do go hunting them tomorrow, I know a few of us are interested in joining you. Don’t head off too early without us.”

Link nodded, half-listening. Just because monsters weren’t a present problem didn’t mean they wouldn’t be a problem later. Too many travelers had fallen prey to even the weakest ones on his journeys. The monster control crews couldn’t be everywhere at once. Toren’s crew last sent word from Akkala two weeks ago. Some Bokoblins escaped the raid. Maybe they moved further south…?

No, that would have head them through the Domain. They wouldn’t have made it past Sidon’s patrols.

“Link?” Thadd’s voice cut into Link’s thoughts. “Don’t tell me you were really thinking of heading off there tonight.”

“What? No, no…” Yes. Link shook his head. “Only three red ones?”

“That’s what the guy said.” Thadd replied, crossing his arms.

Link chewed the inside of his cheek. Yeah. It could wait. He flicked the reins, bidding Spot to walk on. “I’ll meet you in the morning.”

Three Bokoblins. He could dispatch them by himself. But if anyone wanted to join the hunt, he wouldn’t stop them. They might come across something more dangerous lurking the caves. He’d flushed out as many as he came across on his travels, but that was no guarantee that nothing else moved in since then. More swords would be helpful – just in case.

The sounds of the village surrounded Link down the main road. Children ran through the fields, laughing and playing, swinging around sticks like swords and axes. Shopkeepers called out to tourists and locals alike, advertising their wares. CeCe’s mushroom fabric brought as many new faces to town as the rediscovery of cheese did. Though both of these influences paled in comparison to the real gem of Hateno: Princess Zelda.

His heart still swelled. Scouring every inch of the Depths and Sky, awakening the Sages, facing the unimaginable ancient evil that slumbered for so long beneath Hyrule Castle (twice, he might add)… it was all worth it to see her bright smile when she finally came home to Hateno. And while he thought himself the most excited to see her safely return, his own enthusiasm could not compete with the combined exuberance of her students.

The very same who now ran in front of his horse!

He pulled back on the reins just in time to avoid trampling Azu. Spot whinnied in surprise as the boy whirled around, seemingly unaware of his own near-imminent injury. The boy jumped back and dropped his stick, his eyes wide.

“S- sorry, Mr. Link!” The boy stammered, his face turning red.

Sefaro snickered from the side of the road, having darted across earlier. “Some hero you’ll make, Azu! Heroes don’t get trampled by horses!”

Link patted Spot’s neck, assuring him that the boy wasn’t a danger. “Usually, anyway. You okay?”

Azu’s face still burned red, though he met Link’s gaze. “Yeah. We were playing Heroes and Monsters. I guess I got a little carried away being the hero…”

“Guess which one I am!” Sefaro called out, making his best monster face, baring his teeth and shaping his hands like claws. “Rawrrrr!”

Link tilted his head. Not any monster that he knew. Bokoblins didn’t roar, if that could be called a roar. Lynels roared, but they didn’t use their claws. The stance resembled a Bokoblin, hunched over at the hips. “Even monsters watch out for their friends.” That was a lie, but it got the point across.

Sefaro had the decency to look almost ashamed for leading his playmate into the road. The boy frowned, dropping his monster-pose. “Yes, sir.”

With a nod, Link flicked the reins again. Spot walked on.

Dantz looked up as he heard Link’s approach up the stone-lined road. The man wiped his hands on his apron and stepped out from around his shop stall, crossing his arms and looking the younger man up and down. “Well now, what have you got for me?”

Link pulled back on the reins, bidding Spot to stop so he could dismount. “One buck. Three foxes. Four ducks.” One skillful tug at the rope and the knot came loose, freeing the buck to slide off Spot’s back and into Link’s arms. He raised a brow at Dantz, glancing behind him to the hooks where other game was being drained and processed.

The older man scratched his beard. “Don’t worry about hanging it. I don’t have the room for something like that at the moment.” He gestured toward one of the goats, dried scarlet staining white fur down its neck. “I’ll take that one down tonight and put the buck in its place. You can set that down on that spare table there.”

Old wood groaned as Link set the buck as carefully as he could on the wobbly surface. He’d offer to repair it himself, out of courtesy, except the last time Link tried to help build or repair anything without Ultrahand ended with a chunk of birch in his palm. He flexed his hand at the memory. At least that wasn’t the new one… He didn’t know whether to thank Hylia or Rauru or both, but he was glad to have his own flesh back. Even if the powers were pretty useful.

“Eh, these are a little scrawny…” Dantz commented.

Link turned, glaring at Dantz.

“I’m just saying!” Dantz replied, shaking his head. “These foxes are probably out-competing each other. Fox meat’s already tough enough as it is. These aren’t worth preparing for sale.”

The three foxes, lined up next to one another on Dantz’s work table, did have a little less flesh about the ribs than usual. The foxes that darted through Hyrule Field, and especially those in Tabantha, always fetched a good price. Hateno foxes… not so much.

“The ducks look good, though.” Dantz continued, examining the wings and weighing the birds in his hands. “I’ll give you ten each for the ducks, fifty for the buck, and five for the foxes. Their pelts are still worthwhile.”

Link considered the offer. Fifty for the buck? With antlers like that? “Seventy-five.”

Dantz gawked. “You messing with me? No way I’m doing seventy-five. Fifty’s more than fair for this animal.”

“The meat and pelt, maybe.” Link replied. He took hold of one of the antlers at the base, showing it to Dantz as if it escaped the man’s notice. “These alone are worth thirty.”

The older man ground his jaw, reluctantly considering the antlers. “Hmph. Sixty.”

“Seventy.”

“Sixty-five.”

“Deal.” Link stuck out his hand, grinning broadly at the much-bewildered Dantz.

The butcher shook his hand, clicking his tongue. “Who woulda thought the hero would be such a haggler?” Dantz released Link’s hand, heading toward the farmhouse door. “The princess placed an order for sausages this morning. I’ll send you back with those, too.”

Link leaned against one of the stall’s support pillars, looking out at the pastures nearby. Cows and sheep lazily grazed bright green blades of grass, lowing and bleating to each other. Tokk, ever on his stool beside the apple tree, dozed in the shade, occasionally pretending to keep a watch on the sheep by opening one eye before resting his head again on the bark. The pond rippled and shimmered in the afternoon light. Birds chirped and sang, flitting through the orchard. Were it not for the stench of blood, it would have been quite a pleasant afternoon. The occupational hazard of butchers and hunters.

Dantz returned shortly with a sack weighed down with what Link assumed must be sausages, given the shape of the lumps inside. After handing the sack to Link, he offered a silver rupee. “Sixty-five for the buck, thirty for the ducks, and fifteen for the foxes, minus ten for the sausage.”

Link opened his mouth to protest that there was no way he was actually selling venison sausage for ten rupees, but Dantz cut him off before he got the chance.

“I’m sure the princess is waiting for you, Link. I’ve got work to do on what you’ve brought me, and standing around arguing about it isn’t going to put dinner on the table any faster for either of us.” Dantz, despite the dismissal in his words, still held a twinkle of teasing his eyes.

With a huff of annoyance and resignation, Link pocketed the rupees. He would discuss the price of sausages with someone. Either Dantz or Zelda. Ten was ridiculous…

Spot started trotting away as soon as Link mounted him again, snorting the smell of the shop out of his large nostrils. The trip back down the road and across the bridge always went by faster with a lighter load, and Spot’s eagerness to get back home rivaled only Link’s. Hay, salt, and a cozy stall awaited one, and for the other…

No matter how many times he rode across the bridge, Spot’s hooves clopping onto the wooden planks, he never tired of the sight of the front door swinging open.

His heart leapt into his throat.

Her blue eyes sparkled behind wind-teased blonde hair, her radiant smile lighting him up from the inside out. Her lean frame, dressed in the plainness of a Hateno apron with a streak of Champion blue about her waist, stood as a goddess amongst mere mortal trappings.

Five months. For five months he’d had her back, thanked Hylia every day for her smile, her hand in his, her laugh in his ear, her wit, her sweetness, her intelligence, her beauty, her.

Zelda.

Goddess above, when she turned that lovely smile on him… he could forget.

“Welcome home, Sir Knight.” Her old pet name for him rolled so easily off her tongue and into his soul. “How was the hunt?”

“Good.” He answered, hopping off Spot a little quicker than he probably should have, almost stumbling to keep himself upright with the jolt of impact that lurched through his bones. His cheeks warmed, especially as she laughed softly. “Ah, I’ll put Spot up for the night.”

“I’ll be waiting inside. Have you brought the-?”

Link held up the bag, which made Zelda’s smile even more. He’d bring her sausages every day, even if they cost fifteen rupees.

“Excellent. I’ve this new recipe I’d like to try.” She took the bag from his hand, her soft fingers brushing against the scars on his knuckles. “The East Wind had Goron spice for sale today.”

Link’s heart could practically melt just standing in her presence, and almost broke when she waved him into action. Such sweet tragedy, to leave her for a moment to put Spot away. He imagined this is what a puppy feels like when its owner closes the door – he didn’t think he whimpered like one too, but there was always a chance.

Fresh hay and water from the well filled Spot’s troughs. Link led his horse into the stall, locking the door into place once the tail finally swished inside. Their evening ritual nearly complete, Link plucked a ruby-red apple from the tree behind the house and held it out in his flat palm for Spot to take.

“Beats mountain-climbing, huh?” Link joked as Spot sent sloppy chunks of apple tumbling to the grass. “Get some rest. Bright and early tomorrow to get those Bokoblins.” He patted Spot’s nose once more for good measure before heading inside.

The smell of sizzling sausage wafted into his nose as soon as he opened the door. His stomach growled loudly, which alerted Zelda to his presence before he even said a word to her.

Zelda merely laughed, a tinkling bell in his ears. “I’m glad you’re hungry. I probably made too much.” She stirred something bubbling at a rapid boil around in the pot on their stove.

Sausage. Goron spice. Tomatoes. And… he gave the air a curious sniff. Fresh bread? She doesn’t bake… A quick glance at the table confirmed. No, she didn’t bake that loaf. The tell-tale flower-shaped scores gave away the true origin: Prima.

Link plopped down on the stool by the door, tugging off one boot at a time. His feet ached from the day’s work; the freedom afforded by just his stockings a much-needed relief. Maybe he’d gotten soft in the months following the battle. He marveled at how he used to climb mountains and swim rivers day in and out without needing much rest at all. And that time he’d jumped into the Depths and emerged with sackfuls of Zonaite, amazed to discover a whole week had gone by without sleep or sunlight. Now, he was spoiled. And, if he really thought about it, probably gaining a little weight. He curiously pressed a hand against his own waist as he watched Zelda cook, muttering recipe details to herself. A measure of flesh gave way under his fingertips before a layer of hard muscle. Yep. He was spoiled. And he was more than happy to let Zelda spoil him as much as she desired. Goddess knows he does the same for her.

With the boots kicked off by the door, Link joined Zelda at the stove, watching her progress with intense curiosity. “I thought you didn’t like curry.”

Perhaps another would assume that the redness in her cheeks emerged from the heat of the cooking. Her blue eyes darted toward him a moment before looking away. “Yes, well… I wanted to try it again. Tastebuds can change over time, you see. And it has been a long time since I’ve had it. Tens of thousands of years. I might as well give it another go.”

“Mhm.” Link kissed her blushing cheek, his heart beating faster at her smile. “Do dragons eat curry?”

“I don’t know what dragons eat. If they eat at all. They’re immortal. They probably don’t need to.” She frowned, the question tumbling over in her mind. “Which doesn’t make any sense at all, if you think about it. They fly around constantly. That must have been exhausting. And yet I don’t think I- they ever ate anything. Where do they get the energy, I wonder? Some connection to the goddess? Not to mention the harvesting of dragon parts. Those scales and horns do break off sometimes and-“ She stopped suddenly, looking very intensely into Link’s eyes. “Darling, did you… harvest from me?”

Now it was Link’s turn to blush. He laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck and glancing anywhere but her accusing eyes. “What? No! That’d be so disrespectful!”

Her princess-y eyebrows knit together, her lips pursed. “Hm. A shame. I have no doubt that such concentrated divinity would have been extremely useful to you in your task. There’s no telling what sort of energy could have been channeled through even one scale.”

Link blinked, too stunned to speak.

Zelda spoke enough for the both of them. “It’s of little concern, I suppose. I don’t know how I’d feel about seeing a shard of my former self. I wonder if it’d be like a piece of broken nail or a fallen strand of hair. Inconsequential, you know?. Though it may be much more than that. Maybe there’d still be some divine radiance about the shards. If the other dragons can impart elemental energy to their scales, those of a light dragon would have abilities yet untested. By me, at least. Necessarily.”

He couldn’t keep the goofy smile off his face as she talked herself through a theory. A new chance to marvel at her intelligence presented itself with every dawn. He could listen to her talk for hours about science and speculation. The way her eyebrows worked and her lips pressed together and her tone shifted in pitch as she considered different angles of a problem. “You’re my divine radiance.”

“Ah, oh.” Zelda blushed again. “Thank you. And you’re my…” She scrunched up her nose, trying to think of something clever and poetic. “Darling hero.” She nodded to herself, confirming her best effort at romance.

Despite himself, Link snorted a laugh in response. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his head against her neck. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re cooking delicious food.”

“Hm.” Zelda hummed softly, resuming her stirring. A new sound rose in her chest, vibrating through her body and into his. A soft tune, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, warbling only when Link kissed her neck and her breath caught.

He missed her. He missed this. Humming her songs to himself when he cooked was a poor substitute for her voice. His arms tightened around her. Meals tasted better with a song, she’d said. He’d hummed so many in her absence. He hummed clinging to her fur as she wound a slow pace through the skies. He much preferred her like this, where he could wrap both arms around her and hold her and kiss her and listen to her song jump whenever he nibbled at her ear. Soft fur and a gentle glow were nice, he supposed. A poor substitute for the real thing.

“Link, I…” Zelda paused her song, her voice just as quiet in speech as music.

“Hm?” He pressed his lips to her jaw, trailing kisses down her neck and to her shoulder. Her chest expanded with gathered breath. He loosened his grasp to accommodate.

“I need to ask you something.” Her tone held a note of seriousness that made Link look up, breaking him out of the trance she’d put him in. “How would you feel if… a child lived with us?”

The question stunned him. A child? Which one? For how long? That was quite a question! Are their parents that desperate for a break? He couldn’t blame them. He’d probably be exhausted and looking for someone to take the little menaces off his hands for a couple days too. “Not Sefaro.”

“What?” Zelda turned in his arms, facing him. The wooden spoon slid, forgotten, into the curry. Well shit. He’d have to grab another from the wall rack. “No, not Sefaro. A… a different child.”

Link released his princess, getting another ladle off the wall. The length of this one wouldn’t fall into the curry so easily. The other kids didn’t annoy him so much. Sefaro was the odd one out. The boy had threatened to dye Link’s hair in his sleep, and Link wasn’t sure the kid wasn’t capable of carrying it out. As long as it wasn’t Sefaro… “Sure. When? For how long? I promised Thadd I’d go monster hunting tomorrow morning. We won’t be back until late, so I can’t watch-“

“Forever.” Zelda interjected, nervously pulling at her apron strings.

Link nearly dropped the spoon from his hands. He frowned, setting it down into the bowl before answering. His estimation was right. There was no way that would fall into the pot. “Are one of the kids in danger?”

Zelda shook her head, biting her lower lip. “No. I’m not speaking of the children you know.”

Not a child he knows…? “Zel, I’m not following. How can I agree to watch a kid I don’t know? Doesn’t that seem a little unsafe to you?”

She was never very good at hiding things from him. Though he didn’t recall much of his previous life, he knew the way she shifted when she didn’t want to admit something she was ashamed of. The way she balled her fists before mustering the courage to speak. For the years after the Calamity, he’d seen it so infrequently that he wondered if she was still capable of such hesitation. And yet here she was, in their kitchen, trepid as a newborn foal. He wracked his brain to think of why she would suddenly stop trusting him. Had he done something to weaken that trust? Granted, he did let her fall into a crumbling pit of darkness and get sucked into the ancient past and turn into a wyrm. But other than that, he was a model husband!

Her lips parted, and her blue eyes met his. “I mean… a child of our own.”

His heart slammed inside his chest. Could she hear that? There’s no way she couldn’t hear that. All the water left his mouth in an instant as he pieced together what she was trying to convey. He tried and failed to produce words several times, his brain short-circuiting without forming a coherent sentence. He finally managed to eek out a cracked “Really?”

His princess nodded, taking his hands in hers and… placing his palms against her stomach. “Really.”

He couldn’t help it. His gaze stayed transfixed on his hands, broad against her waist. A soft waist, tied round with Champion blue. An odd lump rose in his throat as he tried to process it all. A child. Their child. His and Zelda’s. Their. Child. A real actual honest to Goddess baby.

“Holy shit.”

“Link!” Zelda snapped. “That’s not exactly the response a lady wants when she tells her husband that she’s pregnant. Something a little more refined or reverent even would be more appropri- Mph!”

Link’s mouth slammed against hers, suddenly desperate for her again. His arms snaked around her shoulders, sliding down her to waist and pulling her as close as he could manage. A baby. A baby! No other thoughts jumped about his mind so much as that single word. Not even the delicious scent of curry could pull him away from her. And when he felt her nails gently combing across his scalp, he needed nothing else in the world to be so incredibly, incandescently, perfectly happy. He thought Zelda was all he ever wanted. All he ever needed. And yet, a baby? Their baby? He’d considered it, as a distant possibility, many times. Among other idle daydreams that kept him going on endless nights of restless travel… Yes. He’d imagined this. He’d imagined holding a toddler’s hand and teaching them to walk. Correcting a child’s form as they held a sword or pulled back a bowstring. Carrying a little Zelda on his shoulders as he traveled. All of these were fantasies. Were fantasies. And every single one, in a moment, might become real.

He pulled back, his desperation for her giving way to his lungs’ cries for air. He sucked in a warm breath, unable to keep the grin off his face as he leaned his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

The pads of her fingers traced small shapes at the nape of his neck, her pinky curling around the tiny hairs that escaped his ponytail. “I love you, too, my handsome knight.” She placed a quick, closed-lips kiss on the tip of his nose. “So much.”

His heart might give out right here and now, with how hard it beat against his ribs. He’d faced down white-maned Lynels with less adrenaline in his veins! He laughed softly, as it seemed the only way to diffuse the excess mirth that bubbled out of his chest. “So, what now?”

“Now?” Zelda repeated, a little confused. “I guess we prepare. Starting with-“ She gave the air a sniff. “Oh! Stopping the curry from burning!”

Brightblooms in the Well

Linktober 2023 Day 27: Light/Sparkle/Bright As soon as the idea popped into his head, he knew he had to act upon it before Zelda stopped him. He closed the gap between himself and his princess, cupping her face with nectar-soaked hands, pulling her into a kiss. A small gasp escaped her as she realized what he’d done. Her own hands flew to her cheeks as she pulled away, her fingertips brushing the glowing handprints he’d left. “Link!”

The evening sun begins to dip below the tree line of the western woods. Fireflies flicker to life along the well-trod path up the hill between Bolson’s model homes. Fresh, small footprints remain in the dirt, pressed in from the afternoon’s drizzle. A set running in, a much fresher set running back out toward Hateno.

No smoke rose from the chimney of their cottage this evening. Her golden horse nickered at him from the stall. Link clicked his tongue, leading Spot by the reins over to his own trough and stall box. He patted both horses on the nose, offering them each half an apple. Their soft lips tickled the palms of his hands.

Though he listened for signs of activity within the house, he heard none.

Curiously, Link climbed up onto the ledge beside the window, peering inside. No fire lit in the hearth. Not even a candle beside Zelda’s desk.

He furrowed his brows, trying to make out any sign of her in the darkness. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d returned home after a day of teaching and fell asleep. He squinted, just barely ascertaining the perfectly tucked sheets still intact on their bed.

No Zelda.

He frowned, trying to recall if anyone had said anything regarding her whereabouts to him on his way back to the house after working the fields with Reeve. Nothing came to mind. Quite the opposite, even. Clavia remarked that Zelda appeared in a rush to get home when the children finally ran out of the schoolhouse doors.

He walked along the raised pathway down the side of their home. There was still one place to check before he needed to worry. He peeked his head into the small storage room in the back of the cottage. Nope. Not in there. Though, as his eyes passed over the small tomato plant beside it, he noticed only the orange and yellow fruits remained. He doubted the children picked them, as most of them claimed to hate raw tomatoes and would only eat them when cooked onto something else. Zelda, on the other hand, ate them raw like apples.

With a hop, Link descended onto the stone step and back to the ground. He hefted himself over the edge of the well, slid down the ladder, and landed with a soft thud on the wooden dock beneath.

A blonde head turned quickly, her eyes wide in surprise. Ink stained her right cheek.

“You’re back early.” Zelda observed, incorrectly.

“It’s after seven.” Link informed her.

“Is it?” Zelda quickly checked the small timepiece on her desk, a gift from Robbie. A failed version of a miniature Sheikah Slate, not useful for much of anything except to tell the time. In blue symbols, the time shone across her features. “Oh, so it is. I’m sorry. I had intended to start making supper at five.”

“S’alright.” Link assured her. After checking that the book in front of her had a different color cover than her diary, he approached. “What have you been studying?”

Zelda held up a small, greenish-blue bud. “Brightblooms. I’ve been trying to discern what makes them glow.”

Link took the bud from her hand, examining it curiously. “And what have you found?”

Zelda heaved a heavy sigh, shrugging her shoulders. “Very little, I’m afraid. I’ve discovered that it is the nectar within the flower that supplies the light. See, here, the translucent skin of the petals. But as for what exactly within the nectar causes the luminescence, I have no idea. I thought perhaps it was a similar substance to that as is within fireflies, but I’m not sure.”

While Link had passed by brightblooms dozens of times, using them frequently in his explorations of dark caves, he hadn’t thought much about the why. He smiled. Of course, Zelda, in her inexhaustible curiosity, wanted to know what made them glow.

She slid her notebook toward him. Sketches and theories dotted the pages, which she flipped through as she spoke. “Fireflies produce a yellow light from inside a closed system. I believe it also has something to do with electrical signals that the firefly produces when it’s alive. Based on my observations, only living fireflies produce light. But that may not be the case at all. I’m afraid I don’t have the heart to squish one and observe whether the glow remains. I’ve only dissected ones which I’ve found already deceased.”

Link would offer to squish one for her and record the results, but that would defeat the purpose of her good-natured hesitation. He’d just tell her he squished it by accident.

“As you can see with this bud here, it also appears to be a closed system, emanating very little light.” Zelda continued. “But when the buds are struck, or else left to bloom on their own, they produce an abundance of light, but for a shorter duration. The ones I’ve planted down here will need to be replaced when their light eventually fades. They respond to physical stimuli, such as being struck, with quickly blooming and sticking to a surface.”

Link nodded, quite happy to listen to her talk science for as long as she wished.

Zelda produced another book, flipping through the pages until she reached a small sketch of a firefly. “This author speculates that the firefly produces light by the interaction of an enzyme with a kind of sugar located within the body of the insect. This book, in general, is about enzymes and their various uses. Fascinating material; you really ought to read it. It’s a perfect interaction of biology and chemistry.”

En-zime. Or, no, enzyme, with a Y. He quickly scanned the page, which had only a handful of words he recognized and several diagrams which he couldn’t hope to interpret. Lines and triangles and letters, arranged in some order that he was sure made sense to Zelda.

“As for the brightbloom, there is no mention of it in his book, and so I’m left to grapple with the mechanism with which it produces luminescence. I don’t believe it to be electrical.” She pursed her lips, tapping her fingertips on the wooden desk. “I’ve been comparing a bloom to these buds for, well, I suppose it must be several hours now. I had intended to discover something about the nature of the glow tonight. Symin and I were going to compare notes in the morning and discuss a lesson plan on bioluminescence for the children. But, it seems, that will have to wait, and I can only hope that Symin has made more progress on the subject than I.”

Link turned the bud over in his hands, examining it closely himself. The petals were very closely tucked together, with only the faintest glow emanating from within. If he struck the bud, or threw it against the wall, it would stick and bloom brightly. That much he’d observed firsthand. But what if he-?

In a moment of pure curiosity, he smashed the bud between his palms.

Blinding light burst in a sparking display and dripped between his fingers, sticky nectar splashing him in the face.

“Link!” Zelda cried, shielding her face from the splatter, specks of light landing on her hands and sleeves. “Hylia’s wings, why did you do that?!”

He could barely make out her exasperated expression from the light that shone around his eyes, obscuring everything in the darkness of the hidden study. “I wanted to know if it was air-reactive.” He answered honestly with a shrug.

“You- Well, Professor Link, what do you think?” Zelda asked.

“I think,” Link compared the split halves of the smushed bud in his palms, each of which glowed like a tiny, dripping star. “It might be.”

Zelda stood from her desk, pushing the little wooden chair back into its place tucked underneath. “I think that’s a very astute observation.” She took a small handkerchief from her pocket, and began trying to wipe away the nectar from his face—gently at first, then more aggressively as the stubborn nectar refused to budge. “Goddess, Link. This stuff will not come off!”

He winced as she dragged the handkerchief across his cheek rather forcefully, like she was trying to wipe his skin away.

She huffed, pulling the useless, now-glowing fabric away. “I think that only smeared it. I suppose we could just wait for it to stop glowing on its own, though there’s no telling how long that will take.” She folded the handkerchief carefully, keeping the glowing nectar from touching the surface of her desk. The palms of her hands also sported droplets of light, faraway celestial bodies blinking in and out as she moved. “Perhaps it’s water-soluble.”

“You want me to jump into the pool?” Link offered, already taking a step backward toward the edge of the platform.

Zelda pursed her lips. “I suppose that would be one way to remove the nectar, though a wet rag would probably be sufficient.”

“Aw, but that’s no fun.” Link teased. If this nectar really was water-soluble, which he hoped that it was, for his own sake, then there’d be no harm in… sharing it.

As soon as the idea popped into his head, he knew he had to act upon it before Zelda stopped him. He closed the gap between himself and his princess, cupping her face with nectar-soaked hands, pulling her into a kiss.

A small gasp escaped her as she realized what he’d done. Her own hands flew to her cheeks as she pulled away, her fingertips brushing the glowing handprints he’d left. “Link!”

Link laughed, the sound echoing off the stony walls of her study. “Now we match!”

“Oh, you cad!” She scolded. Though he couldn’t tell for sure beneath the glow on her face, he thought she might be blushing. Or maybe it was rage. Something in that range. “Give me that!” Zelda snatched the remaining brightbloom bud from his hands.

“Aw, come on, Zel. I was only jok-,“ Link started, cut off by Zelda’s very firm return of the kiss. Rather than her hands resting on his face, as was her typical habit, they roamed. Down his neck, up to his ears, tangled in his hair. All the while, the drip of nectar followed.

When she finally pulled away, a satisfied smirk on her lips, he could only imagine the state she’d left him in. “Well, what do you know? Maybe there are some similarities to fireflies after all. You certainly look like one now.”

Link would not be outdone. “Nah, a firefly is more like-,“ He grabbed Zelda’s ass, giving a playful squeeze. “-that.”

Zelda let out a small squeak of surprise, though she made no attempt to push him away. “You’re terrible, you know that?” Despite her admonishment, she soon returned the favor, grabbing his ass in return. “Just terrible.”

Link snickered, resting his forehead against Zelda’s. “You know, I bet this stuff washes off of skin much better than it does fabric.”

Zelda raised a brow. “Probably. Why does that matter?”

Another light-filled kiss brushed against her lips, leaving a celestial glow around her mouth. “Because,” Link whispered, trailing kisses toward her ear. “I want to cover you in it. And it would be a shame to ruin your nice blouse.”

Welcome to Hateno❤️ Post-Botw / Pre-relationship fluff

After a few days in Kakariko Village, Link brought Zelda to his house in Hateno. She was so eager to finally see it but on the other hand Link was nervous and did his best to hide his insecurity. He wanted to know what Zelda would think of the house before admitting that he had actually bought it for her. "Zelda is a Princess" he told himself. She is used to living in a castle and luxury! This house is smaller than her royal bedroom! But no. Zelda's reaction surprised him. Pleasantly surprised… His nervousness level cranked up quite a bit actually🤭

Little did Link know that Zelda's most secret wish was to share a cozy little house...with him ❤️

And the best thing about Link's house? Yes, you know what it is There is only one bed 😉