Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Paya arrived at Hateno sore and covered in dirt. She figured she didn’t look too bad - no one flinched at the sight of her or turned her away from the town. There were a couple aunties who definitely started gossiping after taking a single look at her, but she was sure it was because of her hair. Other than her Purah Auntie and Symin, there shouldn’t be any Sheikah living in Hateno. 

Which, speaking of her grand aunt, she had to find her way up to the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab. 

She’d seen it while approaching Hateno, of course. It was hard to miss, the way it perched on top of a hill to the east of the town itself. Still, as small as the town was, Paya didn’t want to get lost, so. . . 

There was a man staring at her - he was a heavyset man, with a mustache and sideburns that leaked into his hair. He was whistling a merry tune and didn’t actually approach her until she made full on eye contact with him rather than little glances out the corner of her eye.

“You’ve got the look of a traveler!” The man exclaimed as he came closer. Paya. . . had never seen anyone wearing clothes like the ones he was. It simply wasn’t what they wore in Kakariko. He was obviously a farmer of some sort, the fabric of his pants were sturdy and looked thick. They were held up by very strange looking suspenders. “Is this your first time in Hateno Village?”

“Oh, uh,” Paya said, her voice coming out in a near whisper, “yes, actually.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because you’ve got a lifelong resident to show you around,” the man said with a booming laugh. Paya nodded a little, barely paying attention as he told her where the shops were as well as the Inn. He introduced himself as Seldon, a retired store owner - so not a farmer, then. 

That didn’t help at all, Paya thought as Seldon slouched away, panting for breath. I still don’t know where the Tech Lab is, even if I know where to bed for the night.

Which left the option Paya previously had no intention of going for.

She had to ask someone.

The man she ended up approaching was weeding his garden near the path, occasionally stopping to stretch his no doubt sore muscles. He wore similar clothing to the previous man, if a little more threadbare. And he had a strange hat on his head!

“Oh, hey, traveler,” the man said, his voice a low rumble, “What’s going on? Are you lost?”

“Something like that,” Paya said, just as quietly as she had with Seldon. The farmer raised an eyebrow and leaned forwards. Paya cleared her throat, flushing pink. “I - uh, I’m trying to find the Tech Lab!” 

“What’s a young woman like yourself gotta do with that place?” The man asked. But he shook his head a second later. “Whatever. I’m Nack.”

“Paya,” she said, “it’s an honor to meet you.” He rubbed at the back of his head. 

“There’s no need for that kinda formality here,” Nack said, looking distinctly uncomfortable, “I ain’t a king. The Lab’s just up this main road here. It’s a bit of a walk, but you shouldn’t have much trouble. The path’s clear of monsters, except maybe children.” Paya laughed awkwardly. “If that’s everything?”

“Yes,” Paya said, voice already stronger now that the ice had been broken between them. This Nack didn’t seem like too bad a man. “Thank you so much for the directions.”

He shrugged, already settling down onto his haunches again. “It’s whatever, Paya. Go take care of your business.” She nodded and hurried back onto the road.

It was her fourth time already passing the gossiping aunties - they seemed to have moved on from discussing her, judging by the way they didn’t so much as spare her a glance. Paya was grateful for it - she didn’t like the attention. There were some things that being the granddaughter of a matriarch didn’t cure, and her ever frayed nerves were among them.

Besides, there were other people on the road who stared at her. Two children, their game of tag paused so they could stare. The greeters at the doors of the stores. The old woman on the stool, with her small yet beautiful smile. 

Paya was glad to finally be past them, crossing the bridge into an obviously richer area. There were no stores or the elderly here. Just large homes and large gardens. Paya tugged and twisted at her fingers as she followed the path up and past them as well. It zigzagged up the hill - there were a couple children up here as well who froze at the sight of her. Paya wiggled her fingers in a wave. The children both reddened and turned away from her. 

She continued up the path and burst into a smile. The Hateno Ancient Tech Lab towered over her, the furnace in front of it glowing with blue flame. Paya laughed despite herself and ran the rest of the way up the hill.

“Purah Auntie!” Paya yelled as she threw open the door. Symin stood near the bookcases at the back of the room and in the front of the room was. . . 

A child?

“Paya, is that you?!” The child gasped. Paya stared incredulously as the child rushed up to her, absolutely beaming. “It is! Wowie, you really look like Impa did when she was your age.”

“Auntie?” Paya said, feeling quite faint, actually. 

“The one and only! Check it!” The child did the exact same motion Purah Auntie did and, well -

“Auntie,” Paya said, slowly squatting down so she was on eye level with Purah Auntie, “why are you a child?” The question came out more like a statement. Purah Auntie laughed, clapping a couple times in excitement.

“I’m glad you asked,” she said, “it turns out I can reverse the effect of time! I got ahold of a de-aging rune and used it on myself. Of course, I thought at first it would change time, in a time travel sort of way. But it’s more for the reversal of time on an object. I didn’t notice cuz all the experiments started disappearing! I thought that meant they were going back in time, but! In fact, it was just that I had reversed them to being atoms!” 

“ Auntie!” Paya gasped, heart seizing in her chest. “But what if you’d reversed yourself to atoms?!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t’ve,” Purah Auntie said cheerfully, “I could change the time setting on the rune and I purposefully set it to a few years before the Calamity. I was only four then! It’s been a few years now, so I’m closer to six or seven years old, give or take.”

“Oh,” Paya breathed, all the air rushing out of her, “that’s a relief.” Purah Auntie blinked at her, then carefully stepped forwards to wrap Paya in a hug.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Purah Auntie said, carefully patting the back of Paya’s head. Paya melted into the hug, pulling her grand aunt as close to her as possible. Goddess, but Paya’d missed her. The thought that Paya almost could’ve lost her forever. . . 

“Be more careful!” Paya choked out, tears filling her eyes. “Especially with yourself! You’re my only auntie!” Purah Auntie’s grip on her tightened.

“I know, baby,” Purah Auntie said, “and I’m sorry. You’re right, I should’ve kept you all in my mind more. I’ll try and be better about it, ok? In fact, I’ll have Symin remind me when I experiment! That way I won’t be so reckless. Ok?” Paya nodded, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. “Now. Why don’t you tell me what brought you to Hateno? If I’m remembering right, Impa said she’d never let you come here if I left Kakariko.”

“Master Link sent us a letter,” Paya said, pulling away to carefully wipe at her face. She slung off her bag, reaching into it. “Grandmother couldn’t come, she’s far too old, so she sent me in her stead. I’m not much of an ambassador, but I’ll do my best.” She pulled out the letter and offered it to her grand aunt.

“Ambassador?” Purah Auntie said slowly, reaching out and taking the letter. She tugged it out of the envelope, still looking at Paya. 

“ Yes, between the Sheikah and the Princess,” Paya said. Purah Auntie’s eyes went wide.

“The Princess?!” She shouted. Symin was at her side in an instant, cheeks red and eyes just as wide. Paya almost shuffled back. “What do you mean, the Princess?”

“I- Well - You know,” Paya stuttered out, “Master Link says he and the Princess are currently sheltering in his house here, in Hateno.” She gestured vaguely at the letter in Purah Auntie’s hands.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Purah Auntie breathed.

“The Princess is here?” Symin squeaked. “I - Holy shit, Purah, I’m gonna go shut everything down.” Purah Auntie dropped the letter, nodding empathetically.

“I’ll get everything upstairs, you get the downstairs stuff,” Purah Auntie ordered, already springing up the stairs, “we convene at the front in five minutes!” 

“Got it!” Symin shouted. 

Paya picked up the letter, sliding it back in its envelope. Hadn’t they already known about the Princess? They literally lived in Hateno? Shouldn’t they have already seen her around - or, more likely, hadn’t Master Link already brought the Princess up to greet them? What was this surprised reaction?

Unless something had gone wrong.

Dread settled into the pit of Paya’s stomach. She put away the letter, an old hand at distracting herself from her emotions. Whatever was the reason that Purah Auntie hadn’t known the Princess was in Hateno must be a similar or maybe even the same reason Master Link hadn’t brought her to Kakariko in the first place. 

Paya had always assumed that the moment she was free of the Calamity, the Princess would come to Kakariko. She’d even dreamed about it, as a child. That she would get to meet the almost mythical Princess who’d protected Hyrule since time immemorial. The Princess who fought the Calamity tooth and nail to keep the Queendom safe.

It was the job of the Sheikah to protect and guide her. Paya had been trained for this almost since the day she was born. How to conduct herself amongst royalty, how to advise the Queen, what matters were important to the Sheikah and how to prioritize.

How to smooze and how to debate and how to get what she wanted.

In theory, at least. She’d had some practical examinations conducted by her grandmother, but it was rare that she could put aside her anxieties and stutter long enough to be of any use. 

But here she was. And she was going to have to face the Princess alone, like Grandmother had warned her she might.

“I’m done!” Purah Auntie hollered, rushing down the stairs. Symin was at her side in a second, practically vibrating with excitement. Paya felt sick to her stomach. They were so excited, but Paya could only think of the responsibilities weighing down on her. “You ready, baby?”

“Oh, yes,” Paya answered, standing up. She hadn’t realized she’d been sitting this entire time. Purah Auntie beamed at her, skipping forwards to grab her hand and pull her out of the Tech Lab. Symin locked up behind them.

“I’m going to give Linky a piece of my mind when we get there,” Purah Auntie said conversationally. Paya flushed.

“No, please don’t,” Paya said immediately, “what if the Princess hears?”

“She’ll laugh,” Purah Auntie answered without missing a beat, “and then probably scold Linky as well. Don’t you worry, Paya, everything’s gonna be fine. I haven’t seen Zelda in forever! Goddess, I hope she’s alright and her brain’s working! We get along like a house on fire, Paya baby.”

“Do you?” Paya said, even though she already knew the answer. 

“Of course,” Purah Auntie said. She waved at the two kids who’d been spying on the Tech Lab. Both of them blushed and hid behind a couple trees. Purah Auntie laughed, absolutely delighted, but she continued to lead the way along the path. “We used to go back and forth for hours when she’d get the chance to talk. Very busy, that one. Even if she hated Linky at first, I was glad she had someone to watch over her.”

“She hated Master Link?” Paya gasped. This was new. No one had mentioned this to Paya. Most of the stories she’d been told about the Princess were about her courage and wisdom. 

“She did! Absolutely despised him at first,” Purah Auntie said. “But they were fine near the end.” She quieted, frowning. 

“Sorry,” Paya said.  Purah Auntie looked up in surprise.

“Oh, no,” she said, as they finally entered Hateno. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. It’s been a hundred years, but Goddess knows the Calamity still hurts to remember. Pray to Hylia you don’t have to ever go through such rough times. Back then. . . Well. We were lucky to make it through alive. But! Because I did, I got to meet you!” Purah Auntie beamed up at Paya.

Paya actually couldn’t even remember a world without her grand aunt. Purah Auntie had just always been there. The idea that Purah Auntie could remember a world where Paya herself didn’t exist? That was a little staggering, even if it was a logical conclusion to reach.

“Yeah,” Paya said, squeezing her grand aunt’s hand. “I’m glad I got to meet you too, Purah Auntie.” All at once she remembered Symin, walking quietly just behind them. “Oh, and you too, Symin!” 

“No, no, it’s ok,” Symin said, waving her off with a laugh. “I’m kinda intruding here.”

“Nonsense,” Purah Auntie said, hand slipping out of Paya’s so she could walk backwards as they passed under the arch that separated the main part of town and the richer area they’d just left. Paya kept an eye on her, making sure she wouldn’t fall into the river. “You’re part of this family, Symin. It’s in the contract.”

Symin grinned at her. “You didn’t make me sign a contract, m’lady.”

Purah Auntie shook her head.

“No, it’s definitely a part of the contract,” she said, “you signed it by moving out here with me instead of into the boonies with Robbie.” Symin laughed, catching the attention of the two gossiping aunties. Both of their eyes landed on him, and then on Purah Auntie, and then Paya and suddenly Paya realized just how much attention was on them.

She’d been able to forget, momentarily, that no one in Hateno knew them. Safe within the bubble of Purah Auntie’s cheer, Paya had forgotten that Hateno watched with the eyes of a hawk. It took all of Paya’s strength not to hide her face in her hands. Even the two children who were playing tag earlier had stopped to stare at them.

“Linky’s home should be up here,” Purah Auntie said, utterly oblivious to Paya’s sudden distress. Purah Auntie led them up a small path that deviated from the main road. Paya resisted looking back but judging by the noise? The people of Hateno had decided to follow, out of curiosity or -

“I’ve never actually been to his house,” Symin said conversationally, “although I knew where it was. I only really come down for supplies.” Purah Auntie nodded.

There were a group of three very block shaped houses at the top of the path. It split into two at the top. One end of the path made up the little clearing for the houses, and the other diverged to travel to an activated Shrine. It was lit entirely blue, like the ones Paya had passed on her way to Hateno.

Purah Auntie didn’t stop or enter one of the houses like Paya expected her to. Instead she walked right between two of them. There was a bridge over a cliff that Paya hadn’t noticed at all and on the other side was a very old looking white house. Purah Auntie grabbed Paya’s hand and dragged her across, Symin following them.

Hateno stopped on the other end of the bridge. Paya caught sight of Nack in the group, looking every bit as grumpy as he had when Paya had asked for directions. Paya ducked her head and turned away. It would only make her more nervous, she figured.

“LINKY!” Purah Auntie bellowed. Paya squeaked, almost jumping out of her own skin. In front of the house, but off to the side, two men relaxed in the shade of a tree. They watched, curious. There were way too many people here. Paya squirmed, grateful for her loose clothing. It allowed her to squirm in peace. 

The door swung open and - out came Master Link, back straight and shoulders squared and an enormous smile on his face. He closed the door behind him and hurried forwards.

“Purah,” he signed, “you’re here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Zelda was here?” Purah Auntie scolded, letting go of Paya to march up to him. Symin rushed after her, the both of them scolding Master Link unintelligibly. 

Paya shifted on her feet, glancing over at the men in the shade. One of them - a balding man with a well kept beard - walked over to the group, the other following lazily. The rest of Hateno was still here - Paya made a decision, and turned around to stride back over the bridge. 

“I’m sorry,” Paya said, voice as loud as she could make it, “but if you could please give us some privacy, that-”

“So you have business with that Link boy, do you?” One of the gossiping aunties interrupted. “I should’ve known. What do you want with him?”

“I - what?” Purah stumbled, caught entirely off guard. The auntie rolled her eyes.

“We have to look out for each other,” she said, “even here in the safety of Hateno. If you mean our Link harm-”

“Amira,” Nack interrupted. The auntie turned to him, visibly surprised and more than a little irritated, “I thought you were out running errands?” She huffed, glaring at him.

“What would you know about errands? All you do is tend your garden and-”

“Let’s not fight,” the other auntie, a heavyset woman wearing a pink dress, interrupted. Amira turned on her friend, eyes narrowed. Before she could answer, the auntie continued. “Nack, sweetie, you rarely leave the farm.”

“This girl’s Paya,” Nack said, “she’s not gonna lay a finger on Link, trust me.”

“ And what do you know of women?” Amira snapped. 

“Enough to know you’re being needlessly cruel,” Nack said evenly, “now get back to your laundry before I call your husband.” Amira glared at him, but tossed her head and stormed away, taking most of the other spectators with her. The auntie in the pink dress sighed, slapping Nack on the arm.

“Stop harassing my friends,” she said. Nack raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Then stop your friends from harassing travelers,” Nack said. He looked up at Paya. “You’re alright?”

“I am, thank you so much,” Paya said, finally starting to relax. She smiled lightly at him. The auntie frowned.

“What is your business with that clumsy young man?” The auntie said. Paya blinked - Master Link was the least clumsy person she’d ever met in her life.

“Oh, I - we’re family friends, Auntie,” Paya ended up saying. It wasn’t a lie, per say. It was just this side of the truth. “My grandmother sent me to come visit.” The auntie nodded.

“And how do you know my husband?” The auntie said. 

“She -”

“I didn’t ask you, Nack,” the auntie interrupted, “besides, what a man says in such situations pales in comparison to whatever this girl will say.” Nack’s seemingly eternal frown deepened. 

“I asked for directions up to the Tech Lab,” Paya said, hoping desperately that her voice wouldn’t fail her now. “That was all, Auntie.”

“Are you seriously implying -” Nack started, but cut himself off with a sigh. “You’ve been reading too much Rumor Mill. Why would I look at some other woman when I have you?” The auntie blushed, her suspicious look disappearing into an actually very pleasant smile.

“You always know what to say, you old grump,” the auntie said, leaning over to kiss Nack. She pulled back, patting his cheek. “I’m going back to my errands. Love you.”

“Yes, yes,” Nack said, his cheeks very definitely red. The auntie walked away, whistling a cheerful tune. “Sorry about Nikki.”

“No, it’s alright,” Paya said, shaking her head, “thank you for defending me. I owe you twice over now.” Nack shrugged, already returning to his taciturn demeanor. 

“You don’t owe me shit,” he said.

“No, I insist,” Paya said, “you helped me get to the Tech Lab, and now you’ve helped me with the rest of the townsfolk.” Nack shifted on his feet, then shrugged again.

“Fine,” he said, “if I find something to do, I’ll let you know.” Paya nodded, but Nack was already turning to leave. “See you.”

“Goodbye,” Paya said, and then he was gone.

Goddess, that was exhausting.

How was she going to have any energy to greet the Princess now?

Paya turned back to the house, trudging across the bridge. Purah Auntie and Master Link and the others were sitting under the tree now as well, with Master Link mixing something in the pot set up there. Paya moved to join them.

“Paya!” Purah Auntie gasped. “There you are! Where have you been?”

“I was just,” Paya said, mentally shaking herself. She didn’t have time to be exhausted right now. “Several people were trying to spy on us. I went over to ask for some privacy.” She sat beside her grand aunt.

“That sounds like something you’d do,” Purah Auntie said.

“Hey Paya,” Master Link signed.

“Hello, Master Link,” Paya said, smiling up at him. He beamed back. 

Paya had had a very short amount of time to get used to Master Link. It’d only been a year or so since she’d forgotten her own name in front of him. And while she was a lot more comfortable with him now - he’d stopped being a living legend to her lately, as there were only so many times he could arrive at her doorstep covered in blood and guts and grinning with the thrill of the hunt until he stopped being someone to worship and started to be something akin to a friend - there were still a couple layers of distance between them that she couldn’t let go of.

“These are Bolson and Karson,” Master Link said, pointing first to the balding man and then to the young man from earlier. “Bolson runs a construction business. They built Tarrey Town in Akkala and the houses over there.” Paya raised her eyebrows, looking over at the two men.

“It was indeed my company that built Terrytown,” Bolson said, “but it was Link and Hudson who did most of the work. Hudson even settled and got married there, not too long ago.” 

“Congratulations,” Paya said with a little bow. Bolson laughed, seemingly delighted. 

“Why thank you,” he said, “and it’s nice to meet you, Paya.” Paya smiled and nodded to him, glancing over at Master Link. 

“I’m making lunch,” Master Link explained, “Zelda’s not awake. You wanna spar til she does? You’ve been practicing.”

“Sh-sure, if it’s not too much trouble,” Paya accepted, overaware of the way her cheeks were turning red. Master Link beamed at her, bouncing on his feet. 

“You have a sword?” 

“I have my daggers,” Paya said, shaking her head. Link raised his eyebrows. “Grandmother wouldn’t let me leave without some sort of protection - it was all I could do to convince her that I’m reliable enough with them. I had to undertake a couple challenges for her approval.” Link nodded.

“What about magicks?” Purah Auntie asked. “You mastered any of those?” Paya held herself very still as she shrugged. 

“Not particularly,” she said. Master Link’s eyes glinted - everyone else had just accepted the answer, but Paya could see the interest in Master Link’s eyes. She half smiled at him, delighting in the way his entire face lit up. Purah Auntie was already distracted, chattering to the men about something or other science related.

Master Link disappeared back into his house and came back out with a bunch of dishes and spoons. He served lunch - it was seafood fried rice and Paya almost started crying with the first bite. Master Link settled down besides her, looking vaguely alarmed.

“I’ve been living off really badly made rice balls the last couple days,” Paya explained, waving her spoon in front of herself defensively. “And your food is so much better.” Master Link nodded.

“I’ll teach you,” he offered. Paya shook her head quickly.

“I can’t ask that of you,” she said. Master Link grinned at her.

“That’s why,” he signed, “don’t worry, I’ll have you trained within a month!” She blushed, but nodded.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she mumbled. Master Link shook his head, still grinning.

“I like to cook,” Master Link told her, “and I’ll eat anything. It’ll help me more than you.” Paya laughed, shaking her head. 

“I can’t imagine that,” she said. Master Link shrugged, looking very pleased with himself.

It suddenly occurred to Paya that she had never seen Master Link so happy. Well, not happy. Relaxed. The set to his shoulders, that Paya had always just assumed was part of his posture, had relaxed somewhat. His body language was far more open - he was having a real conversation with Paya, for once! Normally he was always rushing every which way.

Even the day they’d spent together, with Paya curled up in her room and Master Link standing guard a couple feet away, hadn’t been so peaceful. By all means, Master Link should’ve been relaxed then. She thought he had been. He’d been so kind that entire day, had cooked her meals and reassured her when she lost courage, that she’d thought that he wasn’t even worried about what might happen.

She could see now that that wasn’t true. He’d still been on guard then, just had been good at hiding it from her.

Now, though, his shoulders were slumped and he sprawled over the ground as he devoured his heaping plate of fried rice. He was smiling almost just for the sake of smiling, or so it seemed. He occasionally tilted his head back to stare up at the sky with wondrous eyes. 

Normally he was so on edge that seeing him so chill was throwing Paya for many loops. But it was fine, she figured, so long as he kept sighing in content like that and kept smiling like that and stared out at nature like he’d never seen it before.

Master Link had more than earned it. 

“I’m done!” Master Link signed, jumping up. Paya nodded, hurrying to finish the last of her food as well. “Let’s go!”

“Go get a sword first,” Paya said. Master Link reached to tap at the Sheikah Slate sitting on his hip and a sword materialized in front of him. He hadn’t even looked at it!

“I’ve been bored,” Master Link said. He flipped the sword carelessly around a couple times. Thankfully, the one he’d grabbed from the Slate wasn’t the Master Sword. Paya already knew she wasn’t winning that fight.

“No one in the village will spar with you?” Paya asked, standing and placing her plate on the ground. She tugged out her knives from her bag and stood to face Master Link.

“None but the kids,” he told her, “and them I’m training.” 

“Don’t kill each other, kids!” Purah Auntie called. Master Link rolled his eyes and waved her off, his focus settling solely on Paya. Normally this was enough to set her off (she was only holding onto her composure through willpower alone), but Paya settled into a defensive stance. 

Master Link was, to Paya’s knowledge, a very offensive fighter. If he could throw himself into the fight he would. He was also strong to the point that, even though he was probably gonna pull his punches, he would still probably win if she wasn’t tricky about this. 

“Ready?” Master Link signed. Paya nodded.

Master Link lunged. She flipped backwards over his sword. Pulling on an ancient power, she ran through several hand motions. 

Warping was always. . . disorienting. She disappeared with a flutter of paper and her landing place firm in her mind.

She didn’t dare open her eyes in this timeless place of nowheres. There was no air here, so she held her breath. There was no sound, so she turned her attention inwards. This place was one of nothings.

Paya tore back through the wall of reality. She was behind Master Link, like she’d planned! 

She was also falling from five feet off the ground. 

Paya clenched her teeth around a scream, heart pounding as she swung her knives down. Master Link barely whirled around in time, aborting into a backflip.

Paya hit the ground with a heavy thud, ignoring the shouts coming from the side. Link didn’t take even a second to regain his proper footing. Half balanced on the tips of his right toes, he swept his sword forwards. Paya backflipped out of the way.

They paused. Master Link beamed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Good, good,” he signed, “keep going.” Paya nodded, heart rate already calming.

From there, Paya poured all her attention into the fight. This was easy, surprisingly enough. Of course, getting slammed into the ground hurt, getting cut on the edge of Master Link’s sword hurt, her poor aching muscles were exhausted from travel, but this was easy.

Fighting was like breathing, Paya found. 

Land and exhale. Inhale and block. Lunge with an exhale. 

Even when she was adding complicated things like warping to a different part of the battle it was easy in a way being diplomatic would never be. 

At least while fighting she didn’t have to hold her tongue and keep in mind a varyingly long list of important information such as their age, nationality, loyalties, fighting skill, trustworthiness, so on and so forth. 

In a fight it was easy. She made a target and she struck, occasionally flitting out of existence in an attempt to gain the upper hand. 

The grass and mud under her feet made for easier landings and softer starts. Master Link had no problem with it, nor with the slowly cooling air. Paya continued. 

With Master Link fighting was, somehow, easier.

Paya had been told that Master Link had practically been born with a blade in hand, he was so skilled. He found the Master Sword at twelve, or so the rumors went. It was easy to see just how comfortable he was in his element.

Apparently, Master Link could also move, on occasion, faster than the eye could see. Paya had yet to experience such a thing, but she figured it must be somewhat similar to how she teleported. 

The sun was setting, Paya faintly noted. Master Link’s energy had yet to flag.

Paya, on the other hand, was failing. She was Sheikah, and advisor to the Throne. This meant she’d been trained for long, constant movement and foiling lightning fast assassination attempts. She was not made for the ebb and flow of battle in the same way Master Link was. 

Where Master Link could comfortably fight for hours on end, Paya was already well past the ends of her limits. 

She was sure Master Link had noticed, but her Auntie and Symin hadn’t seemed to. The watchers still cheered away as Paya grew steadily more beat up, and Master Link’s skin began to finally shine with sweat.

There was a heavy scrape outside the fight - Master Link stopped dead, Paya’s knife an inch from his throat. He didn’t even react to it, beautiful blue eyes wide as he stared. Paya turned.

Her hair glowed a fiery gold with the setting sun, strands whipping around her face. Her shoulders were straight, head held high despite the darkness beneath her eyes. Green eyes - so clear and focused that Paya’s heart stuttered in her chest, framed by thick blond lashes. She shifted, her dirty white dress shifting with her, and for a second Paya glimpsed the very curves of her -

Master Link dropped into a kneel.

Paya didn’t even bother with a reaction, just fell to her knees and bowed her head to the mud. That was - She was - 

“Link.” Her voice was light, painfully soft, and Paya shuddered just to hear it.

“Zelda,” Master Link rasped - with his voice! With his physical voice! Paya had never heard him speak, not with her own ears. He spoke with his hands and his body, always so clear and obvious even without opening his mouth. To hear his voice, obviously long left unused, was truly an honor. Even when it wasn’t aimed at her. “Yuh - you’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” came the answer, and then, “may I see your sword?” Master Link gave it willingly, by the immediate shuffling. “It is a hundred years too late to stand on ceremony. But just for a moment, pretend for me?” A pause. “Thank you. Link of Hateno, holder of the Hero’s Spirit and Blessed Chosen of Hylia, I hereby announce your duty fulfilled. I thank you for your service and release you as my personal guard. May the Light of Hylia guide your path.” Movement, a startled gasp, the thunk of the sword hitting the ground, and then laughter that sounded like the ringing of bells. 

Paya hadn’t even dared look up during this time. It just - if she did, she would die, she just knew it. She hadn’t even -

Even reading Master Link’s letter, even traveling all the way here, talking to her family and reuniting with Master Link, Paya hadn’t even begun to process the reason she was here. She hadn’t even -

“Please, you don’t need to bow to me.” Footsteps - they stopped just in front of Paya. Her heart was pounding in her chest, almost too loud to hear over. “Please, rise.”

Paya slowly lifted herself, eyes flying upwards despite herself.

She was gorgeous.

The sun was almost set now. 

“Puh-” the sound stuck, stuttered, Paya switched tracks- "Your majesty.”

“None of that, the Queendom has been dead for decades. Please, call me Zelda.”

Zelda .

“I’m-,” Paya said, her name refusing to pass her tongue. Curse her stutter and inability to make it past ‘puh’ when she was nervous! “My name is Puh-Paya.” Thank the Goddess the hard part was over. “My grandmother, Impa, sent me to your side.” There was more to say, of course, but Paya’s mouth just broke down at the gentle smile on the Princess’ face.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Paya,” she said. Paya shook her head, going to answer, when she was very rudely interrupted by one overexcited Auntie.

“ZELDY!” Purah Auntie shrieked, rushing forwards. The Princess turned, eyes wide in surprise.

“Purah?” She gasped. “Is that you?” Purah Auntie nodded, immediately launching into a speech. Master Link turned to Paya, concern written across his face. 

“I’m fine, Master Link,” Paya said quietly. Master Link frowned at her, hands raising to speak to her.

“Drop the Master,” he said, “I don’t outrank you anymore.”

“Not that you ever did,” Paya signed back, her own movements far less practiced. “The Sheikah advisor operates separate to the Queendom - separate even from the Queen herself. Even when you were her personal guard, you didn’t outrank me. Besides, you are still Hero of Hyrule.”

“The Hero of Hyrule asks that you drop it,” Master Link said, rolling his eyes and huffing near inaudibly, “and we are both outside the system. Aren’t we equals?” 

Paya glared at him. She could push this conversation farther, of course, but she’d been fighting Master Link all day. There was something about sparring that always seemed to level the playing field - it was harder to talk up to her grandmother’s guards immediately after winning a bout with one of them. 

“Fine, Link,” Paya signed. Master Link, just Link now, grinned at her.

“Good,” he signed. He glanced up - Bolson, Karson, Purah Auntie, and Symin were speaking energetically with the Princess. “She’s pretty.” 

Paya went scarlet. Link snickered, reaching out to gently shove her.

“That - that’s inappropriate!” Paya hissed. Link shrugged.

“The first thing I learned about you was that you thought I was handsome,” Link said, “and how is that less inappropriate?” Paya was really going to punch him, she really was. “I wanted to know what you thought. I didn’t see your reaction.”

“. . . I’m honored even to see her with my own eyes,” Paya finally gathered up the courage to say. Link, to her surprise, just nodded. She drew what strength she could from the motion. “And, if she’ll have me, I’ll be even more honored to stand by her side.”

Link nodded again and lapsed into silence.

That was just how Link was, Paya knew, returning her attention fully to the Princess. He’d say his piece and then fall into a silent stillness that could outlast Grandmother herself. Paya honestly liked that about him. She was prone to talking too much. Link would always take it in stride. 

There were goosebumps on the Princess’s bare upper arms. Paya frowned, turning to Link. It wasn’t her place to say anything - at least not yet. She hadn’t even formally introduced herself and her reason for being here! Grandmother would’ve already filled the Princess in on everything by now. 

Link seemed to catch on immediately. He reached for the Sheikah Slate at his side, a ruby circlet materializing in his hands in a shower of blue sparks. He placed the Slate back on his hip, silently walking across the grass and mud to drop it on the Princess’s head. 

“Oh!” The Princess said, reaching up to touch the circlet. “Thank you. It is rather cold, isn’t it? I’m so sorry to keep you all out here for so long.”

“It’s been ages, Zeldy,” Purah Auntie answered immediately, “of course I’m gonna stay out in the cold for you!” The Princess laughed, looking somewhat self conscious. (Paya hadn’t even known the Princess could be self conscious? It seemed like such a. . . such a normal thing to be.)

“I think we should all turn in for the night,” the Princess said gently, “it’s late and I don’t want to deprive any of you a warm dinner and good night’s sleep.”

“Nonsense,” Bolson said, “but kind of you to think of us. I won’t keep you any longer. Sleep well.” Karson wiggled his fingers in a shy little wave, following his employer as he headed for the bridge.

“We’ll take our leave as well,” Purah Auntie said. She and Symin and the Princess, despite her words, immediately launched into another conversation about whatever projects they had chugging away in the Tech Lab.

Link turned to Paya. “You’re staying here.”

“I can’t!” Paya signed.

“You will,” Link said, slipping away from Zelda. “Come help me get a bath set up. I’m cooking dinner - you and Zelda can bathe.” He caught her by the hand and led her around the side of his house.

“I can’t impose on you like this,” Paya said, “I was just going to stay at the Inn.”

“No need,” Link said. Three horses made their way over to the two of them, drawing close to nibble at Link’s hair. Link released Paya, running his fingers over them and offering up apples Paya hadn’t seen him take out.

One was a stallion, maybe sixteen or seventeen hands tall, and pure white. The other - Paya had to crane her head back to look at her, breath caught in her throat from the sheer power the mare boasted. She was far taller than the stallion. Paya couldn’t even hazard a guess at how tall she was. The last one was a pale blue mare, about fourteen hands and clearly not a workhorse of any sort. She was the only one to approach Paya with a calm manner that instantly stole Paya’s heart.

She didn’t get much of a chance to greet them all - Link quietly slipped past them and Paya rushed to follow. He jumped the fence that separated the horses’ small pasture from the backyard. At the back of his house was a wooden shed. Link swung open the door and entered. He exited a moment later holding a couple water buckets.

“There’s a washtub,” he awkwardly signed, moving to the side. Paya nodded and stepped into the shed. 

It was dark and smelled a little musty. The shelves along the walls held an assortment of pots, mucking equipment, brushes, brooms, and horse tack. At the back of the shed was the wash tub. Paya took a steadying breath as she approached it.

She didn’t often attempt to teleport things with her, but she didn’t want to try carrying the tub herself just yet. 

The paper talismans she used to walk between this world and the noworld were, in all honesty, just an illusion. The image of them helped to keep her grounded when she was first starting out. Now she could teleport without them. But she would need them for this, she figured, pulling a few talismans from the little pouch at her side. She placed them on the sides of the tub, already focusing on her destination. 

The world of nothings came and passed.

Paya hit the floor hard, the tub slamming down just in front of her. Link stood about a foot away, eyes wide.

Paya grinned at him through the ache in her legs. “Surprised you.”

Link rolled his eyes, setting down the buckets to pick up the tub instead. He managed it with one arm, too. He placed it down closer to the middle of the yard, turning to Paya.

“ Walk across the bridge and take the road down,” he said, offering the buckets to Paya. Paya nodded and took the buckets, already making her way around the house. The Princess still stood there with Purah Auntie and Symin, although they’d stood up.

Not a single one of them acknowledged Paya’s presence as she walked by, too caught up in their conversation. If nothing else, it afforded Paya to sneak a glance at the Princess. And then another. And then another and -

Paya walked past the three of them several times, carrying the buckets full of water from the lake to Link behind the house. And each time she passed them, they’d shifted a couple steps closer to the bridge, but hadn’t paused their conversation at all. It was sweet, in a heartbreaking sort of way. Purah Auntie and the Princess hadn’t seen each other in so long and now they couldn’t bear to say goodbye, even if only for the night.

It wasn’t until Link coaxed two buckets of water into a boil over a campfire he’d built up that the Princess poked her head around the side of the house. Link and Paya, sitting quietly as they waited, both looked up at her.

“That took a little longer than expected,” she said, walking over confidently. Link smiled at her. “What’re we doing now?”

“Bath time,” Link said, words clumsy in his mouth. He lifted a little bag and a set of folded clothing with a smile. The Princess hesitated, then nodded. Link placed the bag and clothes back down between two towels on a blanket he’d spread over the ground. 

“That’s what Paya was carrying water for,” she said, nodding. Paya jumped a little, but didn’t respond beyond a respectful dip of her head. “I was wondering why we would need that much water. Of course it’s for a bath.” Link nodded. The Princess flopped onto the ground, propping herself up with her arms. 

“You both,” Link said, gesturing between the Princess and Paya. “I, uh, I will cook.”

“You know you can speak sign with me,” the Princess said, voice soft, “you don’t have to force yourself.”

“I wuh-want to,” Link said firmly. The Princess smiled at him and it felt almost as if the whole night lit up around them.

“Thank you,” she said. 

Link grinned and finally reached for a couple pot holders. He tossed one to Paya. She didn’t fumble the catch, thank Hylia. Together they lifted the honestly massive pot Link had hauled out to heat up the water. Honestly, Link could probably lift this all by himself - Paya wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted her help.

Together they poured the water into the large tub Paya teleported out of the shed. While Link took the pot back to the fire, presumably to boil more water, Paya poured another bucket of cold water into the tub. She checked the water temperature, adding more cold water to adjust to a reasonable warmth instead of boiling heat.

“The bath is ready,” Paya said, straightening up. She turned to the other two. Link nodded and stood, waving at the two of them before he scampered off. The Princess stood.

“You can go first,” she said, but she was already reaching behind her for the clasp of her necklace. Paya shook her head. “No, I’m serious. You’ve traveled on foot all the way from Kakariko. I’m not sure the precise location of Hateno, it must've moved post Calamity, but if it’s anywhere near Fort Hateno then you must’ve been traveling a couple days at the least. I insist.”

The Princess sighed, dropping her hands from the back of her neck. She looked over at Paya, opening her mouth. Paya didn’t let her get farther than that, hurrying to the Princess’s side. The Princess smiled, pulling her hair out of the way, revealing her long, pale neck.

Paya carefully lifted the necklace off of her warm skin, trying her very hardest not to blush at the sight, at the brush of her fingertips against the Princess’s skin. Paya deftly unlatched the necklace.

The Princess smelled like Malice.

Paya frowned to herself, drawing the necklace from Zelda’s skin and reaching down for the belt clasps. The belt itself was a delicate thing, intentionally designed to only be removed by an aid or handmaiden. She wouldn’t have been able to remove it herself, even if she wanted to. And if she had only been traveling with Link, then.

“Thank you,” the Princess said. Had she picked out the outfit herself? It didn’t suit her, so maybe not. The belt couldn’t have been her own choice. Even now, the Princess seemed to be a very independent sort of woman.

“It’s no puh- puh- It’s an honor,” Paya said. Was it too blasphemous to assume the late dowager king had picked it? With the intent to keep the Princess - what? With a helper? Prevent her from - Paya couldn’t figure it out. 

“If you refuse to go before me,” the Princess said, “then we will have to go in together. The tub seems big enough.” Paya flushed, all thoughts fleeing her mind. The Princess turned, taking the necklace and belt from Paya’s hands as she stood frozen. “Don’t panic, Paya.”

There had to be a very rational reason why the Princess would want this, Purah Auntie always talked about just how rational the Princess could be and it was wrong to assume the Princess would be rational about every single decision but this specific one had to have a rational explanation otherwise Paya was just going to lay down and combust.

“I uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Paya forced out of her mouth, watching Zelda put down the belt and necklace and turn back towards her. “I should stay out so I can puh- puh- puh- protect you from any outside threats. I can’t do that if I am also. If I am also buh - bathing.”

“Link left us alone out here,” the Princess said with a shake of her head. She bent down, gathering up her skirts in her hands. Paya turned away from her, facing the area where the horses grazed lazily. “So that must mean it’s safe. I’ve spent a long time with him. I know how he works. It’s alright Paya. Ugh, could you help with this infernal dress?”

“Y- yes!” Paya turned back, a little surprised to see the blush on the Princess’s own cheeks. Paya didn’t let herself comment on it, just hurried forwards. The Princess didn’t like it - so she really hadn’t picked it out, then. So, who would intentionally make her wear something she hated so much? Who had that power, aside from the late dowager king? Paya took the bunched up fabric from her. “Please raise your arms, your highness.” She didn’t move. Paya blinked, looking into her eyes (they were so pretty!). “Your highness?”

“I can’t,” she whispered. Her cheeks were getting redder by the second. She couldn’t?

“Of course,” Paya said, looking down. She lowered the skirts back to the floor, considering. “If you would hold still for me then, your highness.” 

The Princess nodded, clasping her hands in front of her. 

Paya must have embarrassed her, somehow. And this dress was an awful pattern, and no matter how Paya removed it, the Princess might be more embarrassed. 

“Please, put this on,” Paya decided. She undid her own belt and the ties at her arms. She removed the padded armor under her jacket, dropping them onto the floor before she shrugged out of the jacket itself. The cold air raised goosebumps on her bare shoulders, but she paid it no mind.

She didn’t wait for the Princess, she carefully took the Princess’s rough, scratched up arm and threaded it through one sleeve before she repeated it on the other side. Paya pulled out a knife.

“I’m going to cut away the dress,” she explained, “please hold still.” The Princess nodded. 

Paya carefully pulled the fabric as far away from the Princess as possible before she first cut the fabric. She couldn’t afford to hurt the Princess. She cut off the fabric where the skirts had been sewed against the bodice. The skirts fell, revealing the Princess’s undergarments. 

“I’ll take off the top now,” Paya informed the Princess. She - didn’t want to make the Princess uncomfortable but this was a very uncomfortable situation so Paya took her knife to the bodice, carving from the middle and going down to the bottom. The dress hadn’t gone over the Princess’s shoulders, so Paya was able to just tug away the bodice and it dropped from under the jacket.

“Thank you,” the Princess said, drawing the jacket tighter around herself. “If you need any assistance, I’d be happy to help as well.” Paya carefully looked away as the Princess dropped her shorts, her modesty preserved by the jacket. 

“Thank you,” Paya said, even though she didn’t have much intention of acting on the offer. “The water will get cold if we leave it any longer. You should get in.”

“Only if you will as well,” the Princess said. It seemed like she wouldn’t back down, then.

“Oh, uh, if you insist, your highness,” Paya relented. The Princess nodded, but didn’t move. Was she waiting for. . . oh, she’d asked if Paya wanted any help. “Um. If you could - the clasps - here.” Paya turned her back on the Princess. 

A second later, cold fingers brushed against her skin. Paya’s top was backless, and only really joined at the two buttons that rested at her lower back and her neck guard. Paya tugged the guard off her head, movements quick and practiced. Her hair didn’t snag.

Still, she couldn’t ignore those cold fingers as they slowly undid Paya’s buttons. Maybe the Princess was tired? And maybe her fingers hurt? Maybe that was why. . .

Paya reached up, loosing her hair from its elaborate style. She felt the first button finally open. She didn’t comment on it, trying to ignore the way she was hyper aware of every brush of skin against hers. She pulled her hair up and into a tight bun. She would wash it properly after the Princess had finished up. 

“You’re very kind,” the Princess said as the second button finally came undone. Paya’s shirt slumped forwards, only caught by Paya’s upper arms.

“Thank you,” Paya said quietly. The Princess stepped away, finally heading for the tub. 

Paya didn’t join her yet. She turned away, picked up the edges of the blanket with the towels and the Princess’s change of clothes and tugged them closer to the tub. Then she made quick work of her own bags, skirt, gloves, pants, and shoes. Only when she had piled them on top of each other at the edge of the blanket and pulled out a change of clothes did she finally make her way to the tub. 

The Princess was staring down at the water, a blank look in her eyes. Paya frowned.

“I’m coming in now,” she said. The Princess’s eyes snapped to her then away again. Paya took that as permission and carefully settled in besides the Princess. She hesitated, then rose up on her haunches to reach over and grab the bag Link had left outside. In it were soaps and a couple little pots that Paya knew contained oils for their hair. “Here.”

The Princess peered into the bag. She took out the soaps (there were three) and carefully smelled each before deciding on one. 

“This is the one Link used,” she said, “although the last time I smelled it was a century ago. I wonder how he found one of the same scent. Is there a soap maker around here?” Paya shook her head. 

“The nearest is in Kakariko, if I remember correctly,” Paya said, “otherwise most soaps are created at the various stables. If that one’s an exact match for his old one, either my grandmother gave it to him or somehow one of the stables has a soap maker who still remembers how soaps used to be made.” The Princess nodded, dunking the bar and scrubbing at it carefully. 

Her fingers were clumsy and slow. And that was definitely frustration on her face. Paya dropped the bag over the side of the tub and held out a hand. The Princess stopped her scrubbing and looked up.

“I can wash your back first,” Paya offered, “so you can get a moment to relax in the water.” The Princess blinked. Then she handed over the soap, awkwardly turning in the tub so her back was to Paya. 

Alright, deep breath. Paya lathered up the soap with her hands. Her fingers were cold, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She couldn’t be weird about this. 

The Princess’s skin was rough under Paya’s hand. It made sense, the Princess hadn’t taken a bath in a century. She hadn’t had the chance to take care of herself and her skin. Paya would have to be very careful with her. 

That knowledge did not change the fact that Paya was washing the Princess of Hyrule with her bare hands.  

Paya wanted to fucking evaporate, even as she rubbed the soap into the Princess’s skin. 

The Princess pulled her hair off of her back. Paya had to clean her neck too, oh no, oh no. Oh no, she was gorgeous and warm under Paya’s hands. Hylia, Paya wasn’t going to survive this. The moon wasn’t visible over the mountains and Paya prayed to Hylia it would stay that way, she really wouldn’t survive if she had to see the moon’s light making the Princess glow.

. . . how far down was Paya supposed to wash.

“I’m sorry,” the Princess said suddenly. Paya froze. “I’ve been relying on you a lot.”

Paya kept washing. For a second there she thought that the Princess was going to scold her or something. Thank Hylia she was doing it right. 

But the Princess had drawn in on herself. Paya - what was she supposed to say to that?! She was still trying to get over the sheer amount of skin she could see. How was she expected to work her mind, mouth, and hands at the same time? She’d explode!

“It’s just that,” the Princess continued and Paya almost sighed in relief, “I don’t want to worry Link. How long has he already suffered for me? How long have the people of this world suffered? And I can barely even stand upright on my own. I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to put this all on you, but Purah hasn’t changed and Link is the only one I know but even him I knew differently and -”

“Your highness,” Paya interrupted, touching the Princess’s shoulder. She turned to face Paya, eyes wide and watery. 

Paya knew she wasn’t very impressive. She wasn’t like her grandmother or the guards, who screamed strength and poise. She wasn’t like Link, who wore every scar and muscle with a quiet sense of pride. And, completely drenched as she was now, Paya wasn’t much to look at.

But she poured as much of her being into her next words.

“My grandmother sent me here to be an advisor of sorts,” she said, “but, to be honest, the real reason I’m here is because I wanted to stand by your side. I want to help you! It’s all I’ve ever wanted. So, if you have need of me, I’ll be here. I promise.”

“Paya,” the Princess whispered. The tears in her eyes were overflowing onto her pink cheeks. 

“I promise you,” Paya said, voice as firm as she could get it to be, “I promise you on Hylia herself, and on the Sheikah eye. I will always be on your side. And I will always support you. Don’t be guilty or - or insecure. I’m here. And I will always be here.”

The Princess’ expression crumpled. She jerked all the way around in the tub, water splashing over the sides, and threw her arms around Paya. 

It took all of Paya’s concentration to not just disappear straight into the realm of nowheres as the Princess sobbed onto her shoulder. Her bare shoulder. And the Princess was on Paya’s lap and -

And Paya had a fucking promise to keep, so she just locked out anything she felt other than “warm” because that was too much right now. The Princess needed her support not for her to freak out because she’d never been this close to another person in her entire life. 

So Paya stared up at the sky and carefully continued washing the Princess’s back to try and keep her mind off of it, rocking back and forth. 

And then she washed the Princess’s shoulders.

And then her arms.

And only then did the Princess finally calm down enough to pull away, leaving Paya’s lap cold without her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“ I told you, I came all this way for you,” Paya said, “don’t feel guilty.” The Princess nodded, head down as she struggled with her last few sobs. Paya carefully took a hold of her hands, one at a time, cleaning them as thoroughly as possible.

“I think I can manage the rest,” the Princess said. Paya handed back the bar of soap. “Though. I won’t feel guilty in exchange for one thing.”

“Anything,” Paya said. 

“Please call me Zelda,” she said.

Paya blushed violently. But she nodded. “Of course, um, Zelda.” The Princess smiled, though she was visibly exhausted. Paya took up another bar of soap from the bag Link provided - she didn’t care enough to check the smell - and scrubbed it between her hands. Once it had lathered properly, she soaped her own body, movements quick and efficient.

The Princess stopped in her own slow, methodical cleaning. Paya drew to a stop as well, eyes a little wide.

“I can wash your back,” the Princess said. Paya went to shake her head, but paused. This wasn’t about her - the Princess was probably trying to return the favor, even at the cost of her own energy.

It was very. . . kind of her. 

Paya nodded, and turned so her back was to the Princess. She was a little ashamed to admit it, but she’d never really seen the Princess as - as a normal Hylian. One who was embarrassed when she couldn’t do something with aid and who hurried to assist those around her. One who didn’t want to worry the ones she cared about. Growing up, the Princess had been nothing more than a story.

But with her hands, gentle and slow, running across her back, Paya knew that she was much more than that. She was every bit a real person, just as much as Paya was, just as much as Link had proved to be. 

What would Link say, if he knew how callously she’d been thinking about the Princess he’d done so much for? 

Paya’s grip on the soap tightened. She forced herself to relax - it wouldn’t do for the bar to shoot out of her hands and across the yard. That would bring her away from the Princess’ warm touch. 

She would have to start over in her head. She would have to think of the Princess as a human she had just met, rather than the mythical Princess who stopped Calamity in its tracks. She was sure the Princess would tire of that quickly. 

Even so, she was still the Princess’ advisor. Paya couldn’t just do whatever. She also had to keep the Princess educated and up-to-date and make sure that all the Princess’ goals were met. Paya had a duty to her. She hoped she wouldn’t have to think about that for now. Or at least for a couple days while the Princess readjusted to not fighting the Calamity. 

Her hands were getting pretty low now. Paya focused on keeping her breathing steady. 

Would it be weird to tell her to stop? Would it be weird to let her keep going?

The decision was taken from her - the Princess’ hands drifted back up to Paya’s neck. They curled around the back of her neck and squeezed ever so gently. Paya held very still.

“You need a good massage,” the Princess said, letting go and tracing patterns into Paya’s skin. “Your muscles are full of knots.” 

“Are they?” Paya said weakly. The Princess hummed.

“You should ask Link for one,” she said, “he gives the best massages. I used to get super stiff from standing and praying for long periods of time each day. After we became friends, he would give me massages.” Oh Sweet Hylia, why would you curse Paya with this knowledge?! “Will you help me with my hair?”

“Of course,” Paya said. The Princess’ hands left Paya’s skin.

She turned, watching as the Princess pulled her hair behind her. Her eyes were half closed. As soon as they were done washing her hair, Paya was going to bring her inside. If she fell asleep out here in the tub, she would get sick. The Princess turned so her back was to Paya. 

Paya stretched out from the tub and grabbed one of the buckets of water. It was still somewhat warm. She brought it closer and grabbed the bag of washing supplies. There was a jar of liquid soap inside that she took out. It was half full.

She ever so gently reached out and pushed down on the Princess’ shoulders. “Please, lean down so I can soak your hair easier.”

The Princess shifted, slumping further and leaning back her head. Her eyes were closed. Paya scooped the bathwater between her hands and poured it over the Princess’ hair. Once her hair was soaked, Paya poured out some of the liquid soap and massaged it into the Princess’ golden, brittle hair. Paya made sure to be careful, but the damage done to her hair was immense. She would have to ask about cutting it tomorrow. No amount of care was going to restore it to the beauty it must’ve once been. 

Paya poured water from the bucket through the Princess’ hair when she finished washing it. The Princess’s head rested on her own shoulder, her breathing steady. Paya frowned, considering her options. She still needed to oil the Princess’ hair. . .

It would have to wait. 

She rearranged the Princess so she was slumped against the tub with little chance of falling backwards into the water. Paya stepped out of the tub, shivering, and dried herself off as quickly as possible. She tied a towel around her chest to keep her decency. 

Then she reached back into the tub and scooped the Princess out, trying not to look at her too closely. She wrapped a towel around the Princess as well and leaned her against the tub.

She was dead asleep.

Paya grabbed a third towel and hurriedly dried the Princess’ hair.

“Link!” Paya called as she quickly knotted the Princess’ hair into a messy braid. The Princess might be embarrassed that Link would see her like this, but her safety came first. 

Link rounded the side of the house, eyes bright and determined, hand on the Master Sword. He stopped when he saw them.

“She fell asleep, I need your help,” Paya said. Link was at their side in an instant, gathering the Princess up in his arms. He closed his eyes. Paya slid the pair of loose pants left for the Princess up her legs and under the towel. 

Once she was covered, Paya took her from Link’s arms. Link carefully opened his eyes. 

“She ok?” Link signed. Paya shrugged. 

“I hope so,” she said. Link frowned, then bent to pick up the bath things. “I’m taking her inside. Can you give me the shirt?” Link grabbed all the clean clothes off the towel and slung them over Paya’s shoulder. “Thanks.” He nodded, already turning back to his work, eyes averted from them. 

Paya carried the Princess into the warmth of Link’s house.

It was a pretty house, all things considered. Not very lived in, but there was food all over the large table and lights everywhere. Paya smiled at it all before she turned and climbed up the stairs. Link’s bedroom -

Yes, it was up here. 

Paya carried the Princess to bed and laid her down. She set aside her own spare set of clothing in favor of the blue shirt Link had left out for the Princess. How was she going to get this on her? 

“Paya. . . ?” the Princess mumbled. Paya turned to see her eyes cracked open, face still lax with sleep.

“I’m just putting a shirt on you,” Paya said. 

The Princess nodded and lazily raised her arms above her head, eyes still mostly closed. Well, that was one way to do it. Paya slipped her hands through the shirt and pulled it down. She navigated the Princess’ head through the neckline and tugged the shirt as far down as it would go. Only then did she remove the towel that still covered the Princess. 

“There you go,” Paya said, “now, you need to sleep.”

The Princess didn’t answer, just passed right back out. She must have been exhausted. 

Paya took off her own towel and changed into her spare set of clothing. When she was finished, she headed back downstairs just as Link stepped back in. 

“Your hair,” Link signed. 

“The Princess fell asleep before I could wash it,” Paya explained, “I’ll just do that tomorrow morning. It’s too late now.” 

“ I can wash it now,” Link offered, “just have to warm up water.” 

Paya tried to refuse, but he insisted. Which is how she found herself sitting with her back to the table, head leaned backwards over a pot full of water that had recently been boiling. Link’s hands were confident as they massaged soap into her hair. 

She hadn’t had the chance to wash her hair on her travels. She didn’t know how Link did it, being on the move all the time. At the end of the day, she’d just stuffed a couple rice balls into her mouth before curling up in a tree to pass out for the night. Link’s hair had always been well taken care of, though. 

The Princess was right, Link did give nice massages, if the way he carefully scrubbed the dirt and oil from her scalp meant anything. Paya slowly relaxed into it. 

“How she?” Link croaked from behind her. 

Paya opened her eyes - when did she close them - and craned her head back to look back at him. He watched her carefully, brows drawn together. “Worried about you,” Paya answered, “worried about the world. Even while she was fighting, there was a lot of pressure on her. It’s worn her out, I think. My grandmother wants her to retake her throne, but. . .”

Link was already nodding. “Won’t accept. Monarchy dead.” 

“Exactly,” Paya said.

“Weigh on her,” he said, “need to keep calm. Didn’t fight two years to stop now.” 

“And I haven’t spent my whole life training to be an advisor to take bad advice,” Paya said, “and my grandmother is living in the past. It’ll be my first time going against her, but. If it keeps the Princess safe, y’know?”

Link nodded. He rinsed her hair with the extra water. Paya closed her eyes again. “A team.”

“The two of us?” Paya asked.

Link hummed. He finished rinsing out the soap suds from her hair and started ringing out the water.

“Yes,” Paya said, “we’re a team. I think we work well together. Purah Auntie said she and the Princess got along like a house on fire - I’m sure she’ll keep us on our toes.”

Link snorted. He nudged at Paya’s shoulders and she sat up. Link grabbed a towel and stood in front of her, carefully and efficiently drying her long lengths of hair. Paya leaned her head forwards without thinking much about it. 

Her forehead bumped up against Link’s stomach. She froze, but Link didn’t react in the slightest. So she left her head there, eyes closed. They were quiet for a while as Link dried her hair. There was a brief minute of pause as he dropped the towel on the table, then he tapped on her head. 

She leaned back and was offered a couple uncorked bottles.

“Which?” Link asked. She sniffed each, deciding on one that smelled like warm saffina mixed with something more earthy. Link nodded, putting away the other bottles and pouring a little onto his fingers. He massaged the oil into her hair. 

He was very thorough. By the time he was finished, Paya was completely relaxed, forehead pressed back against his stomach, eyes shut and breathing slow. 

For a long moment, neither of them moved. 

Then, Link whispered, “still interested?” 

Paya looked up at him. The tips of his ears were a sweet pink, blue eyes fixed on Paya’s own red ones. Her face flushed.

“You uh, you know I am,” she answered, matching his tone and volume, “buh- but why now?” 

“Duty fulfilled,” Link said, kneeling on the floor in front of her and taking her hands, “free now.” The Princess had released him of his role of protector earlier with the Master Sword itself. He had hugged her afterwards, hadn’t he? It felt like a million years ago already.

“And the Puh-puh-princess?” Paya could barely bring herself to ask. 

Link’s eyes dropped to the floor for a second before he looked up at her again. He was beautiful, courage clear in the determined set of his jaw and the furrow between his brows. 

“Love her,” he said, “but don’t. . . know her. Wanna relearn.” 

That. . . made sense. Paya wasn’t the jealous type. It didn’t hurt that she also wanted to learn as much about the Princess as possible. Wanted to help her and earn her trust and maybe even take care of her. To stand by her side, like she had promised. She supposed it would be one more thing she and Link could bond over.

“Me too,” Paya said, breaking into a smile. Link looked relieved, a smile spreading over his own face. “We’ll learn together, then.” 

He nodded, leaning upwards.

The press of his lips was warm and unsure. Soft. Paya leaned into him, carefully moving her own lips along his. 

There were butterflies in her stomach. She broke the kiss, unable to resist her smile. Link smiled back, air rushing out of him in a small laugh. Paya reached up and cupped his face, one hand sliding back through his hair to settle in the way she’d seen adults in her village do. 

One of Link’s hands rested on her knee. The fingers on his other hand traced the edge of her jaw and guided her back into another kiss. This time he was a little more sure, tilting his head to the side and hers to the opposite, lips moving more purposefully before they broke away again.

Paya giggled, leaning forwards to drop her head on his shoulder, arms around his neck. He heaved her up and into his arms, carrying her into the little room under the stairs. A pallet laid on the floor, obviously where Link had been sleeping while the Princess took his bed. 

He laid her out on it and flopped down beside her, one arm wrapped around the curve of her. She leaned back in for another kiss, long and slow and sweet. 

“Night,” Link muttered. 

“Good night, Link,” Paya whispered back.

⚔️👑⚔️

Two great eyes stared at Paya, unblinking. 

She stared back, shaking. There was no energy in her limbs. No intention to move even a single muscle. It stared at her, stared into her, cataloging everything she allowed it to see. Paya didn’t know how to stop it, to hide her face from it, hide her soul. It watched every not-movement she made. 

Paya tried to look away and found that she couldn’t. Half because it trapped her with those pure white eyes, shifting with colors she didn’t know the names of, half because there was nowhere else to look. Her entire world narrowed down to those two eyes. Her entire world was the sensation of being watched, growing even though the eyes were not getting any closer to her. Paya had no strength to look back at it. Didn’t have the strength to look away.

She closed her eyes and reached for non-existence.

Chapter Text

Paya’s pillow was moving. 

Pillows weren’t supposed to do that – she wasn’t in Kakariko – the Princess –

She tumbled through the place of nothings, eyes wide in the pitch black, straining for any sign of someone lingering there. It wasn’t often she tried to scout through this place, but try she did.

Paya emerged next to the Princess’ bed, silent. She still slept. No Yiga, no assassins. No one outside the window but the horses. The door to the house was closed.

“Paya?” Link croaked, voice low and rough from sleep. Paya blinked a couple times.

“Link?” She called, taking a couple steps over to peer over the edge of the railing. Link peeked out from under the stairs, eyes finding hers even as he squinted. His hair was a mess – they should have braided it before falling asleep.

“You ok?” He signed. 

“I think you moved and woke me up,” Paya said, rubbing at her eyes, “I panicked and thought the Princess was in danger.” She blinked at Link.

“Ok,” he said, “I’ll go feed the horses. Do you want to start on breakfast?”

“The best I’ll be able to do is eggs,” Paya said apologetically. Link nodded and tugged the Sheikah Slate off his side. He turned it on and tossed it up to Paya. Link left. The slate was open to a page full of fully cooked food. She recognized some of it from the night before. Paya carried it down the stairs and over to the kitchen table. 

She tapped one carefully – a set of rice balls. It materialized in streaks of blue light, landing on the table without problem. She selected a few more items before Link came back, looking more awake with his hair brushed and face still damp. He surveyed the food she had selected and nodded his approval. Paya handed back the slate and left to tidy up and relieve herself.

When she returned, her hair done up in its customary style and makeup carefully reapplied, Link was cooking more food. He gestured for her to come over. 

“You’re going to make an omelet,” Link told her, “do you know how to make that?”

Paya winced, “last time I made an omelet, Koko scolded me.” 

Link laughed, the traitor.

“Use these,” Link said before tapping the screen of the Slate. Hylian mushrooms, rock salt, goat butter, herbs, and some Goron spice appeared on the table. Link had the standard cooking area – open fire underneath a large pot. “Chop the mushrooms and fry it in some butter on the lid. More butter, crack the eggs on the lid and make them flat and thin. Add the chopped herbs. Then add the mushrooms on top of it. Fold the egg back on top of it. Take it out when the outsides are golden brown.” He nodded, like that was so easy to follow. 

Paya tried her hand at it. 

And surprisingly, it came out not pitch black. Link beamed and leaned over to catch her lips with his. Paya went red. 

“Good job.” He said with his mouth, not his hands, the words slow and measured. His hands were busy pouring Goron spice and salt on the omelet and cutting out a big chunk. Paya watched anxiously as he took a bite. He hummed, shoveling the rest of it into his mouth. 

Paya beamed at him. He leaned back in to press his lips to hers again before he started cooking again. 

“Go eat,” he signed. 

Paya walked to the table, picking a seat that allowed her to keep an eye on the loft area and the door at the same time. She loaded up her plate with rice and some curry Link had left out and dug in. 

It was delicious, because of course Link made delicious food. Before she knew it, her plate was empty and her stomach was full and she could see the top of the Princess’ head as she sat up in bed. Paya jumped up, catching Link’s attention. She gestured up as she headed for the stairs. 

“Good morning, Paya,” the Princess said when she saw Paya. “I was just admiring the horses. Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything,” Paya said.

“I need you or Link to cut my hair,” the Princess said.

It took Paya a second to process the words. While she did, the Princess stared up at her with determination.

“I was actually wondering how I was going to ask you about it,” Paya said, a little sheepishly. “Your hair hasn’t been taken care of in ages, like your skin. I was going to suggest cutting it so it has a chance to grow in fresh and healthy.” 

The Princess blinked, the defiance in her face melting away into a sheepish expression of her own. “Oh. I thought I was going to have to fight you on it.”

“Of course not,” Paya said, “I’ll only fight you on important things. Your hair is your own. It’s not my place to dictate how you want to style it.”

A smile grew on the Princess’ face. “I bet you’ll let me wear pants all the time too, huh?”

“I don’t have the power to make you wear anything you don’t want to wear,” Paya confirmed, nodding. The Princess tossed her head back, genuinely cackling. Link made his appearance at the end of the loft, raising an eyebrow. “The – She wants her hair cut.” 

Link nodded, tapping at the Slate and pulling out a pair of garden shears. He frowned at them and tapped again at the screen, the shears disappearing in favor of a pair of normal sized scissors. He smiled at the Princess, who beamed back at him. 

She was so excited! The Princess practically jumped out of bed, hurrying to Link’s side. Link gestured for her to follow him downstairs. He pulled one of the chairs away from the table and had her sit in it.

While he started the process of cutting, Paya made herself busy by putting food on the Princess’s plate and filling her cup with water. And then she found the oils from last night and brought them over to the table. She offered them to the Princess.

“This one is nice,” she said, pointing at one of the bottles. It was the same one Paya had picked, the one that smelled of warm saffina. Paya hummed and put the rest away, leaving the chosen oil on the table for Link to use. 

“Do you have any lotion, Link?” Paya asked. 

Her. . . lover? Partner? Boyfriend? Paya hadn’t actually asked what they were, which needed to be rectified soon. Anyway, Link nodded, gesturing to the storage shelves in the corner of the room. There were a couple small jars full, all but one of which smelled similar to Link’s own soap. The one that was different smelled like Goron spice, which revealed where that exact jar had come from. 

Paya grabbed one of the other jars and returned to where Link and the Princess were. She placed the jar on the table, next to the oil. Link cut the Princess’ hair with steady, precise movements. The Princess herself watched through a mirror, eyes cataloging how the locks fell to the floor. 

If Paya was going to stand here, she might as well make herself useful. She headed for the broom, leaned against one of the weapon mounts, and grabbed it. Link was just about done with the Princess, so Paya figured she could take care of the floor while Link massaged the protective oil into Zelda’s hair.

When they all finished their work, the Princess sat at the table, peering into her mirror, playing with her hair with a large smile.

She was adorable. Paya nearly stopped breathing, watching the way the Princess turned her head this way and that. The ends of her hair brushed against her shoulders, already looking so much healthier. The Princess was absolutely beaming. She practically glowed with joy at her new look. 

Paya hated to distract her from it, but the Princess caught her eyes. 

“What do you think?” She asked Paya.

“I think it suits you,” Paya said, shyly. 

The full force of the Princess’ joy rested on her for a long moment. Then her eyes fell on the jar next to her plate. “Oh, is this the lotion?”

“Yes.”

The Princess’ smile widened. “Thank you, Paya. And thank you for serving breakfast, as well.”

“Link’s the one who cooked,” Paya said sheepishly. Link looked up from where he was sitting back down at the table.

“Link always cooks,” the Princess said, but she didn’t seem upset about that fact. 

Link nodded and shrugged and Paya walked over to sit back down at her own seat, even though she had already finished eating. Link and the Princess practically devoured their food, lightening the heaping table through sheer force of their hunger. Paya ate a little as well, even though it was just a couple bites of bread with a cup of tea. 

Paya was more intensely focused on what would happen after breakfast. What their plan was going to be. Paya would love to simply be a friend and confidant to the Princess, but she was sent here for a reason.

No one said anything until long after the meal finished. The leftovers were sent into the Sheikah Slate, the dishes were rounded up and dumped in the sink, and more tea had been served. Only then did the Princess speak.

“I suppose there’s no beating around the bush,” she said, “Link, Paya, I’m going to need a full report on everything.”

Link nodded and his tale spilled from his hands. Paya watched as well, just as surprised as the Princess at some of his feats. Neither of them interrupted. Waking up alone, meeting the ghost of Dowager King Rhoam, waking memories, changing lives. Countless battles. 

Paya’s heart ached to see it. She had been callous to Link as well–he was as easily hurt as Paya or the Princess. He just hid it in the same loneliness that had made up most of his adventures. She could see that now.

She would have to start over. The same as with the Princess, with Zelda, she would have to rebuild her mental image of him. He didn’t deserve to be idealized. He was only a Hylian. It was hard to see past the Master Sword and the years of isolation, but Paya would do it. For Link, she would do it.

“Thank you,” Zelda murmured, reaching out to take Link’s hand. “Without your help. . . Thank you, Link.” 

He squeezed her hand in response.

She turned to Paya. “I need an update from you as well, although I’m not exactly sure what I should be asking for.”

“That’s fine,” Paya said, straightening up in her chair, “Link probably knows the true extent of damage to the Queendom and the status of the other nations due to his travels, so I’ll just talk about the theoreticals and politics, if you don’t mind.”

“Please.”

“As I’m sure you know, the Sheikah have a large information net that spans across most of Hyrule,” Paya started, “and before the Calamity, it was accurate almost without flaw. Our information network has been severely impacted and reduced. As of now, we only have one or two informants in any given Nation, aside from the Gerudo. I don’t expect much if any of their information to be entirely accurate, but I’ll give you what little I have.

“First, regarding the Sheikah ourselves - our numbers in our hometown have dwindled to under fifty. My grandmother, Impa, still lives in Kakariko and operates as our matriarch, but she is well over a hundred and twenty years old. You know that Purah and Robbie still live, but they three are the last of my grandmother’s generation. Including myself, there are only – there are only six members of the younger generation who remain in Kakariko.”

“Six,” Zelda whispered, looking horrified. “How – May I know their names? And who they are?”

“Of course,” Paya said, “I am twenty. Claree is twenty-three, and her sister Lasli is twenty -– they run a little clothing store together. Ollie is twenty-seven, he’s in charge of the Shuteye Inn. Koko is nine and determined to be a chef. Her little sister, Cottla, is the youngest of us. She’s only six.”

“And that’s all of you?” Zelda said. Even Link was frowning.

Paya didn’t imagine that he’d ever really thought about how small their numbers were. Even Terry Town was growing to be far larger than Kakariko. 

“As of a week ago, when I left, that was all of us,” Paya said. ‘

Zelda frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The easy answer is that we are some of the most hated people in all of Hyrule. Hylians and the Gerudo don’t trust us, the Yiga hunt us, and we effectively have no allies should the worst happen. We die off easily.”

“What’s the difficult answer?” Zelda asked.

For a moment, Paya considered not telling her. It was a harsh truth. But now, after all this time, it was a truth that had to be told. 

“. . . there are those of us that still defect to the Yiga,” Paya said quietly. Link straightened in his chair as Zelda gasped. Paya dropped her eyes to the table. “There were more of us in my age group. But, uh. There was. There was a time when faith in you and faith in the Goddess faded. The Calamity was there. As were the Yiga.”

“How many?”

“Seven,” Paya answered, “but I don’t know how many of them made it. Or if they’re even still alive.”

Sagwa. Berri. Loupe. Chideh. Gon. Tete. Manza.

When would they come home?

Even after all this time. . . 

“That’s all the important news I have on the Sheikah,” Paya continued, “the Yiga have been steadily growing – I believe they have taken on more non Sheikah to boost their numbers, but only those who can perform the ancient Sheikah arts and magics are allowed to fight. To my knowledge, Link cleared out the biggest Yiga hideout last year. The remaining Yiga are sheltering in various hidey holes – we’re keeping an eye out for them, but it’s slow going.

“Moving on, the Zora are long lived, and have even longer memories. I have no doubt that they would support you if you tried to reclaim the throne. The Gorons are easy going people, but they are content with their current leadership situation. A Hyrulean monarchy is simply out of their range of care. The Rito are more individualistic than they were even a century ago. I doubt they would back you. The Gerudo are unknown, as we are no longer in contact with the informant stationed there. She could have defected or been killed.

“As for Hateno and Tarry Town, both are closely linked to, uh, to Link. They are suspicious and wary of outsiders, but if Link vouches for you, you will be accepted with open arms. Neither are open to a monarchy, if our information is correct. Both prefer elected governments as of now. Lurelin is in much of the same situation, although Link does not have as strong ties with them, so it’s uncertain how easily they would accept you.

“Otherwise, Hyrule generally runs on a stable system – each stable essentially functions as its own village. They don’t like outsiders and entire families are born, raised, and finally die in any singular stable. This is where the majority of Hylian citizens live. They each have their own culture and ways of life, which makes it impossible to theorize a general response to the return of a Queen.”

“And what if there was no return?” Zelda asked, determination on her face.

“. . . then most of the information I have to offer is of no use,” Paya said, with a little dip of her head, “and I would report that back to my grandmother. While I convince her to let go of the idea, you would have to go to Zora’s Domain and Gerudo Town and let King Dorephan and Chief Riju know you have no intention of taking your spot on the throne.”

“Impa?” Zelda said, looking surprised. “She wants me to be queen?” 

“Yes,” Paya said, “she’s been waiting for a hundred years for you to return to the throne.” 

“I’ll have to disappoint her then,” Zelda said, squaring her shoulders, “because I have no intention of returning. I’m done with royalty and politics. It seems like the people have come up with a system that works just as well as a monarchy.” She smiled, tentative. “I’ll come with you to convince Impa. I’m sure she’ll receive the news better from my own lips than yours.” 

“Thank you,” Paya accepted immediately, relief rushing through her, “we’ll go together then.”

“Great! When do we leave?” Zelda said, clapping her hands together eagerly. 

“Not for a couple days,” Link signed, “we need to get you accustomed to being a person again. You’ve been fighting for the last one hundred years.” 

“I assure you, I’m fine,” Zelda said. “Can we go today? I’d hate to leave Impa waiting any longer than I have to. I miss her dearly.” 

“Zelda,” Paya said, “we really should take a little time before leaving. I’m not freshly out of a coma and I haven’t spent most of my life fighting the same fight over and over and it still took an incredible amount of time and effort for me to get here.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Zelda said, moving as if to flip her hair over her shoulder and stopping short when the length wasn’t as long as muscle memory suggested. She lowered her hand, lips pursing. “I just want to get this all over with, I hope you understand. I am not queen. There is no Queendom of Hyrule. I am not even sure I have retained my powers now that the Calamity has been defeated. There’s no reason for me to take the crown.”

“I’m not going to argue that,” Paya said as she twisted her mug in her hands a couple times, the warmth of the tea leaching into her fingers, “but there’s no reason to rush this. I’d rather not run off and get injured because we didn’t take the time to make sure everything was ready.”

Zelda opened her mouth to argue once more, but Link raised a hand to stop her. She fixed a glare on him.

“Stay with Purah,” he signed, “spend a few days. Catch up. Paya and I will prepare.”

For a moment, Paya thought that Zelda would continue to fight back against them, but she just nodded, the tension draining from her shoulders. Paya smiled tentatively at Zelda, relieved when Zelda smiled back and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. Link nodded a little to himself and stood, feet thumping on the stairs as he, apparently, started on his own tasks. 

“I am going to need help going up to the lab,” Zelda whispered, eyes finding Paya’s hands on her mug. “I fear that I cannot make the walk alone.” 

“That’s fine,” Paya said, cutting herself off before she addressed Zelda as Your Majesty, “Zelda.” 

Zelda nodded and pulled back, looking down at herself. “I may need to borrow some clothing.”

“I have extra,” Paya offered, “in the Hateno style, too, though it’s based more off Link’s descriptions than actual Hateno clothing. Claree and Lasli did their best with what they had, but none of us really felt comfortable asking Link to buy women’s clothing so that we could see the modern fashions.”

“I see,” Zelda said, nodding. “Maybe we should go to the clothing shop here in Hateno. There has to be at least one, right?”

“There was,” Paya said, nodding. The tour Seldon had given her earlier had ended at the Ventest Clothing Boutique. It was his daughter’s clothing store, though he’d warned Paya that his daughter was quite shy and withdrawn. Maybe she wouldn’t appreciate two young strangers in her store - rupees were rupees in the end, though. “It’ll be expensive; it’s a boutique, apparently, not a clothing store. Grandmother sent me some money that I could use to pay?”

Link’s head appeared above the railing. He frowned at her and signed that he had money. And then, with a glance at Zelda’s back, signed, “I should spoil my girlfriend, shouldn’t I?”

Paya shook her head as Zelda caught on something was happening behind her. Link signed again that he would pay when he saw her looking.

“You two were exchanging secrets,” Zelda accused, voice light and eyes glittering with some sort of mischief that Paya instinctively related with her grandaunt. It was a good look on her, Paya thought. It suited her far more than the emotion on her face when Paya and Link shared their stories. Maybe that was the Princess and this was the woman, if the two halves of Zelda could be so easily separated. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Never,” Link said, the word obviously a lie and clearly not meant to be hidden whatsoever. 

Zelda pointed up at him on the second floor. “Just you wait, Link, I’ll find out whatever it is you’re hiding from me. You’ve never been able to keep a secret from me for long.”

Link stuck out his tongue and came down the stairs with near silent steps. He offered the Sheikah Slate to Zelda. “For payment.”

“You sure?” Zelda said, slowly taking it from him. 

“What else do I use it for,” he signed, “anything I need I can make or trade for. The wealth of the Queendom in my coffers, or something.”

“Well, if you insist,” Zelda said. She flicked through the pages with the air of someone who knew what she was looking for. Paya didn’t have much experience with the Sheikah Slate. She wasn’t sure what Zelda was looking for. She must have found it, because she placed it in a holder on her hip. “I’m going to get cleaned up before we go, Paya.”

Paya nodded. Zelda disappeared to go use the restroom and Paya turned to smile at Link. He grinned back at her, coming over to stand next to her. 

“Girlfriend, huh?” Paya said quietly.

“Yeah,” Link said. He wrinkled his nose a little. “Boyfriend isn’t a great word for me, though. . .”

“What do you want me to call you, then?” Paya asked, reaching forward to hook a finger in one of his belt loops. She let it rest there, careful not to accidentally tug on his pants. He blinked down at her finger a couple times, his cheeks beginning to turn red. 

He shrugged a little.

“Lover?” Paya suggested, her own cheeks heating up. “Partner? Datemate?”

Link shrugged a little, but he shuffled a little closer so he could slouch over and press his cheek to Paya’s head. She moved her finger from his belt loop so she could hesitantly wrap her arms around him. He made a noise deep in his chest and pulled her up so he could hug her properly. Paya hugged him back, just as tightly, ignoring her burning cheeks.

She was not normally this close to people. She was not normally this close to Link in particular, aside from last night, and she was really going to have to figure out what sorts of touching Link was and wasn’t ok with. He would tell her, of course. She wanted him to tell her. She wanted to know everything she could about him, anything he was comfortable with telling her. 

She hoped he felt the same about her. 

⚔️👑⚔️

By the time Zelda returned from washing up, Paya and Link had already finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes and Paya had extracted her extra set of Hateno style clothing from her bag. She hoped it would fit Zelda, who was a little taller than she was, though a little less curvy. Paya offered them to Zelda, who took them with a little smile.

“Thank you, Paya,” Zelda said. 

“Of course,” Paya said, then, a little quieter, “do you need any help getting it all on?”

Zelda nodded, grip tightening on the clothing. Paya didn’t say anything else, taking her by the arm and leading her up the stairs. Link glanced up at them, but didn’t say anything, putting away the newly dried dishes. Paya waved a little at him on the way up, getting a smile in return.

Paya and Zelda came to a stop by the bed. Paya laid out the clothing on the bed so that they would be easier to put on and turned to a red-cheeked Zelda. 

“I’m really sorry about all this,” Zelda said. Paya shook her head. 

“It’s not an issue, Zelda, really,” Paya said. 

“I don’t want to be dependent on you and Link,” Zelda said, frustrated as she tried and failed to raise her arms. Paya took her shirt from the bottom hem and pulled it up. She would not look at Zelda’s chest. She wouldn’t. She was going to be so helpful and not creepy at all even a little bit. Worst case scenario, Zelda thought Paya was weird and sent her away. Paya didn’t think she would survive that.

“This won’t be forever,” Paya said. She helped pull Zelda’s arms through the sleeves and then lifted the shirt off her head. Zelda crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her undergarments from Paya’s view as she turned her head away.

“I know it won’t,” Zelda murmured, “and I know there’s no reason to be so self conscious or frustrated about it. There’s nothing inherently wrong with needing help and there is nothing inherently wrong with me specifically needing help. I should be able to need help and accept help because it’s a perfectly normal state of being. I’m human! Obviously I’m going to need support.” 

Paya nodded in agreement, listening to Zelda ramble as she grabbed the first shirt. It wasn’t a particularly cold day, but Hateno was in the mountains, right up against the Lanayru Range. It made sense that their clothing was just as layered as the Sheikah clothing; Kakariko was also a mountain village. 

The first of the two shirts was a deep blue one, relatively loose and long sleeved. Paya slipped it onto Zelda as she continued to speak. “I mean, just because I was the princess - or queen, for a couple hours there, after my father passed on - doesn’t mean that I should just deny help out of hand. That’s my reasoning there. There’s no reason I shouldn’t just take your kindness when it’s offered. There’s no point to being miserable. If there’s anything that fighting Ganon has taught me, it’s that. I’m alive. I’m alive and he’s not and I should be taking advantage of that.”

“Right,” Paya agreed, adjusting the sleeves so they weren’t twisted awkwardly on Zelda’s arms. She took the next layer from the bed. It was a white short sleeved shirt that went on just as easily. 

“Right,” Zelda echoed, but she didn’t sound like she really believed it. Paya raised an eyebrow at Zelda as she tugged on the second shirt, trying to get it into place on top of the other one. “Sorry, I know I must sound really. . .” Zelda looked away from her.

“You weren’t sounding any particular way to me, Zelda,” Paya said as gently as she could manage. She hesitantly reached for Zelda’s pants, her hands stopping inches away as she waited for permission to continue. Zelda shook her head and Paya retracted her hands. 

Slowly, Zelda sat down on the bed. She wiggled her pants out from under her, switching them out for the extra ones that Paya had given her. Paya half turned away, looking out the window at the horses grazing peacefully outside. They looked warm, Paya thought. She assumed Zelda liked horses; maybe she would like going outside to feed them a couple apples and maybe they wouldn’t be too opposed to getting hugged.

“What do you think?” Zelda asked. Paya looked over to find her taking the dark red wrap from where Paya had left it on the bed. She folded it in thirds deftly, wrapping it around her waist and reaching for one of the belts. “You’ve just been letting me talk. I hope you know that I don’t really care about the formalities that I’m sure Impa taught you. If you need to interrupt me, then interrupt me. And if you have something to say, I hope you won’t stress too much about saying it. I don’t want to be – I really hated being the princess, you know. You don’t have to just stand there and listen when I talk.” 

“I wanted to listen,” Paya told her and reveled in the way Zelda looked up at her in surprise. “I want to know the things you think about and I want to know your opinions on things. Just because you used to be the princess doesn’t make you any less my friend, Zelda, and I want to know all about you.” 

Frankly, Paya was just impressed that she got all of that out of her mouth without misspeaking or stuttering. 

“Oh,” Zelda said and looked down at the belt she hadn’t finished buckling. 

“I agree with what you were saying, though,” Paya continued. She knelt in front of Zelda and took one of Zelda’s boots. She unzipped it and held up to Zelda’s foot. “You should be able to accept help without feeling self conscious about it. And I think you will be able to do that. It may take a little time, though, to get used to it.”

“You think?” Zelda asked, finishing with her belt as Paya slipped the boot onto Zelda’s foot and re-zipped it.

“I think so,” Paya said, grabbing the second one and repeating the motions, “and like I said, it won’t be forever. Give it some time and you’ll be able to do this yourself every morning without me.” 

“What if I don’t?” Zelda asked, her voice so quiet that Paya almost didn’t hear it. “What if I need help for the rest of my life? What if I never get better?”

“Then that would be fine,” Paya said. 

“ It wouldn’t be,” Zelda burst out, “it can’t be! It’s not right or fair to you that I-”

“Zelda, who um, who do I live with?” Paya interrupted.

“What?”

Paya zipped up Zelda’s second boot and looked up at her, hands loose and open on top of her thighs. Zelda’s cheeks were red, suddenly, and she looked away, shoulders hunching. “Who do I live with?”

“I don’t know,” Zelda said, sounding a little ashamed.

“I live with my grandmother,” Paya explained, “I’ve lived with her for as long as I can remember. My parents died when I was very small. And despite being the matriarch of my clan, my grandmother is very, very old. Who do you think takes care of her? Who do you think washes all the clothing? Who do you think cleans our home? Who washes the dishes, who goes out to get our meals from Koko? Who takes our measurements to buy more clothing? Who helps my grandmother bathe when she can’t clean herself?”

“You?” Zelda guessed.

“ Me,” Paya said, “so rest assured, I will not grow tired of taking care of you. I will not begrudge the work. I’m used to taking care of people. If I can keep my grandmother well cared for, then I can keep you just as well cared for. Don’t be ashamed of that.”

“Are you sure?” Zelda asked.

“ Very sure,” Paya said, “more sure of this than any of the rest of it. I’m not - I’m not puh- puh- puh- part of your - of your destiny or high born stuff. I’m just me. I don’t know how much I can do to help with talking to all these important people we need to visit. I don’t even know how I’m going to break the news to Grandmother. The only reason I’m even in the running for next matriarch is because there’s no one else who can take it. But taking care of you? That’s easy.”

Zelda stared at her for a long time, eyes wide. Paya wondered what she was thinking. What was it about what she had said that had startled Zelda so badly. She didn’t think she’d said anything weird, even if her stutter started acting up in the middle there. . .

And she was already dressed, so Paya didn’t have any more clothing to awkwardly wrestle Zelda into. There wasn’t really anything she could do but kneel there and wait for Zelda to finish thinking. 

Not that that was a bad thing. Paya wasn’t at all opposed to this, actually. Like this, she could stare up at Zelda without Zelda noticing, couldn’t she?

The thing was that Zelda was really pretty. Just incredibly pretty. Even with her hair short and not following her in a golden flag, she was pretty. She may be even prettier now, with her hair fluffy and haloing her head like that. Her green eyes may be a little distant, but Paya thought that she could get lost in them. And were those little flecks of gold in that green? Paya would have ignored them, sure she was seeing things, except that they glowed and pulsed steadily. Like a heartbeat. 

“Paya?” Link called up. “Are you. . . changing?”

Paya reluctantly turned away from Zelda and stood up off the floor. She came to the railing to find Link standing in the center of the main room. Paya leaned her elbows on the railing, resisting the urge to tuck hair behind her ear. None of her hair had escaped its hairstyle yet. It was too early in the day for that.

“Are you going to wear Hateno clothing too?” Link signed. 

“Should I?” Paya said. “They didn’t seem too opposed to me wearing my normal clothing yesterday.”

“I kinda just want to see it,” Link told her and then he turned away, rubbing at his cheek.

“Sure,” Paya said, smiling a little shyly. Link himself had changed into a similar outfit to the one Zelda wore; his was a purple shirt over a dark purple undershirt, with a blue wrap. He was crisscrossed with belts and armor pieces that Zelda and Paya didn’t really have on their own outfits. 

He gave her a thumbs up. 

Paya grabbed her bag, crouching down to pull out the other set of Hateno style clothing. In Kakariko, everyone wore more or less the same outfit, with the only difference being the short skirts and hip armor the women wore. It was simple, practical, and a way to decrease animosity, or something like that. Paya hadn’t really believed all that when her grandmother explained it, but she had listened all the same. The rest of Hyrule seemed to alter clothing based on gender and profession.

Paya’s aunties all wore skirts – long ones, too, not the short skirts that the younger women tended to wear over their hips and upper thighs. Paya had never really questioned it, but it was strange in comparison to Hateno. Even young ladies here wore long skirts for some reason.

Anyway, Paya’s other outfit had a long skirt, which would be hell to fight in should it come to that. Still, Paya pulled it out. 

The lower layer was a knee length shift, a plain white. The overdress was the same deep blue of Zelda’s undershirt. Paya muttered to herself as she tried to figure out how much of her armor she would be able to keep on for this outfit. Her stomach armor would fit nicely under the dark red wrap, but she didn’t know that she could have on any more of that. Maybe she should keep her sleeveless shirt underneath. . . ? But that would be too many layers. 

In the end, Paya wore her stomach armor under the wrap and tied it to her using her own belt full of little bags. She took down her hair and exchanged it for a high bun, but left her makeup in place. 

By the time she finished, Zelda had finally zoned back in and was watching curiously. “You look nice.”

“Oh!” Paya said, face heating up. “Thank you.”

Zelda nodded and levered herself onto her feet. Paya kept an eye on her, but didn’t make any movement to help her. Zelda didn’t seem to notice how closely she held Paya’s attention, making her way down the stairs slowly and carefully. Link looked up from whatever he was doing at the kitchen table and smiled at them.

“Have fun,” he signed, “I’m teaching swordplay today.” 

“To the village kids, right?” Zelda asked.

Link nodded and gestured to Zelda’s side. “I need the slate.” 

She held it out. Instead of taking it, Link just leaned down to tap at the screen. He summoned a group of dull short blades and a sharper, bigger one for himself. He swung the last one over his shoulder and held the other three in his hands.

“We’ll meet again for lunch?” Paya suggested.

Link nodded and looked over at Zelda.

“Sure,” she said, “that works for me. See you then?”

“ See you then,” Link echoed.

Paya guided Zelda out of the house and across the bridge. Link didn’t even need to go that far. The village kids were already at his door, rough housing in the dirt. Zelda giggled at them as they passed, one hand coming up to hide her grin. Paya wished she didn’t, so that Paya could have the excuse of staring at her beautiful smile and the way her eyes curled up. 

But she didn’t so Paya just continued on into the village, leading the way to the boutique. 

Zelda made it all the way there with single minded determination, but as soon as they were inside she stopped completely. Paya held her up as she struggled to breathe, sending an apologetic smile to Seldon’s daughter, who hovered a couple steps away. 

“I’ll get you some water,” the woman said and disappeared into the closed off section of her house.

“I hate this,” Zelda said, voice shockingly bland.

“It’ll pass,” Paya said, “give it time.”

“I know,” Zelda said sharply. She looked up at Paya, frowning. “I–oh, I was about to snap at you. I know it’ll pass. Everything does.” The fire drained out of her, leaving her shoulders slumped and expression unhappy.

“Then this will too,” Paya said with a nod, “but um. Maybe it’ll help to think of it like a bruise. It hurts now, and it’s ugly, but it’ll heal with time.” 

“I really don’t think that’ll help,” Zelda said, “but thank you all the same.” 

“Here,” Seldon’s daughter said, reappearing at their side holding a glass of water. Zelda drank it all in one go. Paya winced internally; maybe she should have prepared a bottle or something before they left Link’s home. 

“Thank you so much,” Zelda said and smiled winningly at her, “I’m Zelda.”

“Oh, I’m Sophie,” Seldon’s daughter said, taking back the glass with a tiny smile. Somehow, she appeared to be more shy than Paya was. “Welcome to my boutique. Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for?” 

“Well,” Zelda said, shifting her weight off of Paya, “much of my stuff was lost on the way here. It was destroyed before Link found me. I think it might be a bit of a stretch to buy a whole new wardrobe, but one or two new outfits couldn’t hurt, could it?”

Sophie’s smile grew wider. “Of course. It looks like you already have an under layer, so really you would just need a couple shirts and wraps. Unless, of course, you would like more pants or undershirts? Maybe a skirt?”

“A skirt is pushing it, I think, but maybe I should have at least one,” Zelda muttered, looking down at Paya’s own skirt.

“You can always borrow mine,” Paya offered.

“I’m already wearing mostly your clothes,” Zelda said, shaking her head, “I just wouldn’t want to wear a skirt. Maybe for formal occasions, but not in the day to day, and that is very much a day to day skirt.”

“Well, we do have our fair share of fancier clothing,” Sophie said hesitantly, “but most of what we sell is for everyday wear. It should be able to hold up under pressure. I mean, most of it is working clothes, for farming.”

“That will do quite nicely,” Zelda said, nodding, “eventually we plan on traveling again. If it can withstand hard labor, it should be able to withstand a bokoblin attack.”

“Yes,” Sophie agreed. She was starting to look a little worn out now. Out of energy for talking to customers, maybe? Seldon had said she was pretty shy.

“Why don’t we take a look around then,” Paya said, “and we’ll ask you if we have any questions?”

Sophie looked relieved, nodding eagerly. “I’ll be over at the side if you need anything.”

“ Sure,” Zelda said, “and thank you again for the water and the help, Sophie.” 

Sophie nodded again and drifted away, twisting the glass in her hands. Paya hoped they hadn’t stressed her out too much. 

It was hard to keep focus on her while Zelda was shopping, though. The princess was incredibly opinionated about clothing, in a way Paya honestly hadn’t expected. She supposed she assumed Zelda passively wore whatever was chosen for her. In all honesty, Paya wasn’t entirely sure what Zelda’s life had been like as a princess; Grandmother had mostly taught her what it would be like from the Sheikah perspective. 

But Zelda was actually very focused on the fits and styles, constantly turning to a very anxious looking Sophie with questions. Paya was content to just trail after her, holding onto a steadily growing collection of outfits. 

“I don’t suppose I can try some of these on, can I?” Zelda asked.

“Of course,” Sophie just about whispered, gesturing to the side, “we can have it fitted as well. It will take a few days.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Zelda said, striding confidently to where Sophie had indicated. “I can sew a little bit, and Link can absolutely sew a lot. Paya, how’s your sewing?” 

“Passable,” Paya said, wrinkling her nose, “Claree did her best to teach me. I can stitch wounds, but not much else.”

“I can ask Link, then,” Zelda said, nodding, “right now I just want to make sure there’s enough fabric that it can be altered.” 

“There should be,” Sophie said. 

The changing room was a small room off the main one. A small portion of it was cornered away by a curtain that Zelda stepped behind. Paya followed with all the clothing, placing it all on a small bench across from a full length mirror.

“Stay with me, Paya?” Zelda asked, already slumping behind the privacy of the curtain. “I promise we don’t destroy your wares back here, Sophie.”

Sophie giggled. “That won’t be much of an issue, Miss Zelda.”

Zelda smiled as she leaned into Paya’s now free arms. 

“Which would you like to try first?” Paya said, rocking her back and forth slowly. “You grabbed a couple undershirts, do you want to try those first?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Zelda said, nodding, “the colors of everything already all match, so it shouldn’t matter which tops I choose no matter which undershirts I go with. And if at least one of the shirts fits over the undershirt, then logically the rest should fit as well. Therefore.” She paused here, eyes closing.

“Therefore we should try whichever undershirt you like the best along with one of the shirts that match,” Paya said, nodding, “and then we won’t have to try on the rest.”

“Exactly,” Zelda said, pleased. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to shop for anything. Rocket science may just be easier than this.”

On the other side of the curtain, Sophie giggled again. 

Zelda slipped out of Paya’s arms. Paya tried very hard not to feel too bad about the loss of her warmth and instead helped Zelda wrestle out of the clothes Paya had helped her into an hour ago. Zelda switched Paya’s dark blue pants for a tan pair and grabbed a brown undershirt to try on; it fit well enough, though they would have to tailor it to fit like an undershirt was supposed to. Over it, Zelda put on a dusty pink shirt, with a deep green wrap. She didn’t tie the wrap on, just held it in place with a hand as she pulled back the curtain for Sophie’s expert opinion.

“Oh, I really like it!” Sophie gasped, looking more energetic than she had the entire time they’d been there. The glass had disappeared at some point while they were gathering items, so Sophie was free to get into Zelda’s space with a confidence she otherwise hadn’t displayed. Paya watched her as closely as she dared, idly making sure she didn’t hurt Zelda as she took down notes on what needed to be changed. 

“Honestly, I don’t wear a lot of pinks,” Zelda said, turning as Sophie directed her, “or very many girly things. My father was one of those very traditional types, and it kinda made me hate that kinda thing. I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing.” 

“I understand completely,” Sophie said, and now that they were talking about fashion and not going through the niceties of a shopping trip, she seemed to have found her stride with the conversation. “The way I see it, though, is that when finding your own style, you’ve gotta be ugly sometimes. What does it matter if you don’t really know how to style yourself yet? The journey of figuring that out for your own self is way more important than asking yourself if you’re feminine enough, if you’re wearing the right colors, does it all match, and all that. How those sorts of things work will come later, with practice. Right now, you’re looking for clothes that make you feel good. How they look is secondary and what other people think is tertiary if it matters at all.” 

Sophie paused and looked up at Zelda with a sheepish smile. “Sorry for the tangent. I just feel strongly about people doubting their own fashion sense. I grew up in the business, y’know, though most of the clothes we sell are made by my sister and my dad.”

“Which ones have you made?” Zelda asked.

“ Mostly the simpler ones,” Sophie said, “ my sister handles the fancier stuff, though. . . I have designed a couple of those as well.”

“That’s our next stop, then,” Zelda said, “I’ve got full access to Link’s wallet and I’m unafraid to use it.” 

Sophie giggled, covering her smile with a hand. “I’m looking forward to it!” 

“You’re right, though,” Zelda decided, looking down at her clothing with a determined look. “Fuck what other people think. I think I look alright.” 

“ That’s all that matters,” Sophie said, nodding. “I’ll go ring all these up while you go look for any of the more formal outfits, then?”

“Yes, let me just change back out of these,” Zelda said. 

They handed most of the clothing to Sophie, indicating the ones that Zelda didn't want to buy. Finding formal clothing went surprisingly quickly. Zelda drew a hard line at wearing any of the royal colors; navy blue and a rich shade of gold were out of the question. Full length dresses were out. Too many layers were out. Anything that resembled the dress that Paya had to cut off of her was out.

In the end, they came out with a pair of slacks and a dress shirt with a matching blazer, and a sundress that Paya knew for a fact would make Zelda’s legs look longer and more appealing without Zelda even having to try it on. It all costed more rupees than Paya was comfortable spending, but Sophie looked delighted. 

“Do you want anything, Paya?” Zelda asked sweetly. 

“I don’t think so,” Paya said, “besides, I’ll be home soon anyway. My closet’s there.”

“ Well, I have my own clothes now,” Zelda said, looking down at the clothing now stored in the Sheikah Slate (technology that had both Sophie and Paya wide eyed and open mouthed), “so I guess if you decide you need any more, you can always borrow some of mine.”

She was just returning the favor that Paya had already offered her, but Paya felt like her stomach was squirming around inside her anyway. It really was no trouble at all for Paya to lend her things to Zelda. But for Zelda, who had next to nothing post calamity, offering at all was a sure sign of care. How kind she was. 

“I appreciate that,” Paya said, and it must have been the right thing to say because Zelda beamed at her. 

⚔️👑⚔️

Link smiled up at them from the cooking pot in front of his house. The three kids he’d been training were laid out in the yard, all of them sweaty and covered in dirt. Link of course, looked no worse for wear, with his sword on his back and surrounded by ingredients that Paya hadn’t even realized he had. She thought he carried everything in the Sheikah Slate, though she supposed it wasn’t too surprising that he had food stashes or kept some money on him or even that he had just followed the stream that passed in front of his home to the woods and brought back food from a hunt. 

“We just spent so much money,” Zelda told him.

“Good,” Link said, “did you get any dresses?” He looked excited.

“Just a sundress,” Zelda said, “it’s not open back though, your shoulders might stretch it out.”

Link frowned. “My shoulders are smaller than yours.”

“They’re not,” Zelda said, already turning to Paya. “Paya, are my shoulders bigger than Link’s?”

Paya decided she didn’t actually want to be a part of this discussion. She offered Link back the Sheikah Slate. He took it and clicked around. A wave of blue lights switched out his clothing for the pretty lilac sundress they’d just gotten. He turned this way and that, checking the fit. 

“My shoulders are fine,” Link signed, glaring at Zelda.

Zelda glared back, crossing her arms over her chest. Her annoyance died out a second later, though. “You look really good.”

“Obviously,” Link said, flipping his hair over his shoulder. He switched back to his previous outfit after a couple more seconds, though. 

“Can you alter my clothing, by the way?” Zelda asked, pulling out the pages Sophie had taken notes on and offering them to Link. He took it and skimmed through what Sophie had written before nodding. “Thank you.”

“Are you two heading up to the lab?” He signed as he scanned the pages into the Sheikah Slate.

“I was planning on it,” Zelda said, “but I can stay behind if you need me.”

Link shook his head and gave the food he was cooking a final stir – it was curry to go with the pot of rice on the ground next to him. He poured the curry into it, mixing as he twisted to look at the kids. 

“Food,” he called and all three scrambled up and off the ground.

“Do you need me to go get plates?” Paya asked.

Link nodded.

Plates were in the cabinets and there were spoons in one of the drawers; in the minute or so it took for Paya to grab six of each and return outside, the three children had gotten all washed up and Zelda’s shirt was soaked through. She must have made them wash properly in the waterfall or the pond by the horses. Paya sat next to them, holding out plates for Link to serve rice and curry on. She passed each and a spoon to the kids, Zelda, and then took the second to last plate for herself. Link ignored the last plate and pulled the whole pot closer to eat directly out of.

One of the children giggled at him. “Momma says if you eat from the pot then it’s gonna rain on your wedding day.” 

“Let it,” Link said, not bothering to put down his spoon for long enough to sign it.

“What if you paid a lot for a really expensive wedding dress?” Asked one of the other children.

Zelda scooted closer to Paya as Link answered, leaning in. “He’s really good with kids, huh?”

“Yeah, I know,” Paya murmured, “Koko and Cottla love him.”

Link noticed their conversation and moved closer on Paya’s other side, leaning in with his eyebrows raised. Zelda stuck out her tongue at him. He reached lightning fast to grab it and Zelda jerked away with a shout. The children laughed as she glared at Link.

The rest of lunch went by quickly, with Zelda pretending to gossip in Paya’s ear and Link coming from the other side to try and stop her. The children were an active audience, shrieking and yelling along with Zelda and Link. 

For once, Paya didn’t feel like she was outside the action, watching other people have fun. She herself was having fun. She was the rock that Zelda ducked behind to guard from Link’s attacks and Link wasn’t exactly conservative with physical touch, so he was half climbing over her as well. Paya grinned at them both, struck dumb by the wave of happiness that overtook her.

It didn’t go away, either. 

Even after lunch ended and the children went home, even on the way up to the lab and then sprinting back down to help Link with chores and things, even when her back was hurting and her fingers aching from helping sew, even when she brought Zelda down from the lab at midnight, more carrying her than walking with her, Paya was happy. Curled up on Link’s chest, listening to him snore, hearing Zelda toss and turn in the upstairs bed, Paya was happy. 

She was comfortable here, with them. They had never once made her uncomfortable or unwelcome. She didn’t feel like she had to be something she wasn’t. There was not a single moment over the last two days where she felt like she genuinely didn’t belong with them.

It was too early to tell, of course. Maybe something would happen, maybe new information would arise. Maybe one of them would say or do something that would make her feel like she had felt so often in her life; smaller, less than, inferior to those around her. Like she was a default or placeholder. Maybe it would happen soon, tomorrow, even. 

But for now, she felt entirely comfortable with them. They weren’t scary or intimidating. They barely lived up to their individual legends; not one spoke about Link’s love of pretty clothes or the way the world seemed to light up when Zelda laughed. No one said the Hero of Hyrule and thought about Link’s uncertain kisses or the gentle way he spoke to his horses; no one talked about the goddess’ blood and thought of Zelda huffing and puffing her way up the hill the lab sat on or how loud she got when talking to Auntie Purah.

Chapter Text

One week later, Paya packed her things and stashed them in the pale blue mare’s saddlebags. Zelda had gotten the stallion to ride on; apparently it was hers by right, the descendant of her own steed from before Calamity. Link had, with unsurprising nimbleness, jumped onto the last horse, the massive mare. 

“What did you name them?” Zelda asked as Paya came around to boost her up and onto the stallion’s back. He held still, ears flicking. Link had said the stallion was the dramatic sort that would rather die than be ridden, but he took Zelda’s weight with ease. 

“Hanon and Rupee,” Link said, gesturing to the stallion and then the pale blue mare. Paya returned to her own horse, grinning at the simple name Link had bestowed upon her. “This is Bastard.”

“Link!” Zelda scolded as she tentatively nudged Hanon. He shifted beneath her and started to walk slowly around the small plateau Link’s home sat on. 

“She won’t answer to anything else,” Link signed and sighed heavily, “I’ve tried.”

“Hullo, Rupee,” Paya said to her own mount. Rupee ducked her head to nibble along Paya’s hairline. Paya smiled, holding still to let her do it. So affectionate, and they had only just met. 

“Catch,” Link said. 

Paya held out a hand and an apple thudded into her palm. She raised it to Rupee’s lips, giggling a little as she ate directly from Paya’s hand. “She’s wonderful, Link.”

“Frankly,” Zelda said, voice wary, “I’m shocked Hanon hasn’t tried to buck me off yet. I watched Link catch him; I’ve never seen a Link take more than two tries to catch a horse, but Hanon took, like, five.”

“He fought me every inch of the way,” Link told them, movements easy and open, “and breaking him to a saddle was a pain, but worth it I think.”

“Yes,” Zelda murmured, frowning down at Hanon, “he’s being very good to me.”

Rupee finished up the apple and Paya swung up onto her back. Link, riding bareback on Bastard, clucked his tongue and nudged her forward. She took off at a lumbering gait, Hanon and Rupee following easily. 

Paya rarely rode horses. They just generally weren’t her thing. But as they passed out of Hateno Village and through the mountains, down to the ruins of the old fort wall and out onto Blatchery Plain and the Ash Swamp; as Paya’s limbs and back began to ache with having to ride out the rocking of Rupee’s torso; as the sun rose high into the sky as they picked their way through the corpses of guardians, occasionally getting down to lead Hanon and Rupee through the mud (Bastard simply did not stop for difficult terrain); Paya had to admit that horses were a resource she had been overlooking.

They stopped at Dueling Peaks Stable for the night. Paya and Zelda paid for accommodations as Link dealt with the horses. Link seemed delighted to eat food he didn’t cook; he devoured plate after plate. The stablemaster didn’t seem at all phased by this. Clearly, Link had been there before. 

They shared a private room that night instead of staying in the main area of the stable like most visitors did. Link explained that he generally stayed out there, but that this time he had the fortune of having two incredibly important companions to watch over. Paya had blushed and stuttered. Zelda had rolled her eyes and punched Link in the arm. 

They left bright and early and crossed Kakariko Bridge. Paya took the lead as they passed by Lake Siela and traveled between the Pillars of Levia and Bonooru’s Stand. 

They plodded into Kakariko Village in late afternoon, after a mostly unremarkable trip. Paya took in the familiar houses and their sloped roofs, the cuccos running free, the little gardens and sustenance farming for anything that couldn’t be stored to last or imported from the nearby stables. Link was a common sight in Kakariko and Paya had grown up here, so it was Zelda who garnered attention from Paya’s people.

And by attention, Paya meant the same reaction that she had – full obeisance.

Zelda lingered for a couple seconds the first time someone got down on their knees – Claree’s grandmother, tears in her eyes, beaming like she was looking at Hylia in the flesh – but then for the rest she only nodded and smiled and kept walking. Her gait changed; Paya hadn’t even realized she had gotten used to Zelda’s rounded shoulders, the way she seemed at all moments trying to sink into the ground until they reached Kakariko. Then Zelda walked with purpose, head high and body following, like there was a string attached to the top of her head. Her movements grew more careful.

This, Paya thought, was the Queen of Hyrule.

And that was where she stopped herself, because she knew Zelda wanted to be something else, more than what was to remain trapped behind the castle walls. Paya could respect that. She had to.

So she just trailed behind Zelda, handing off the horses to Link when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Zelda eyed them warily as Dorian and Cato got on their knees. Link gestured for Zelda and Paya to go up, turning to leave with the horses. Zelda glanced at him.

Paya hadn’t spent quite enough time with Zelda to be able to read her expressions perfectly yet. She imagined it would take some time. But that expression had to be nerves.

“Actually,” Paya said, trying to hide her own anxiety. Cato had dealt with Link’s horses before, hadn’t he? Dorian generally tried to stay as close to the stairs as possible. He took his job very seriously. “Cato, why don’t you take the horses to the stables?”

“Yes,” Zelda said, blinking a couple times as she turned back from Paya’s house. Cato looked up from the ground, eyes wide. Zelda smiled down at him. “I would greatly appreciate it, Mr. Cato.”

“Just Cato is fine, your Majesty,” Cato said, standing. He brushed the dirt from his knees and face.

“Thank you, Cato,” Zelda said.

Cato bowed again, cheeks red in a way they hadn’t been since Paya was a child, and carefully gathered up Hanon and Rupee’s reigns. He didn’t try to touch Bastard’s – she didn’t seem to need to be instructed, following after the other two without issues. Link joined them again, finger spelling Dorian’s name.

“Dorian,” Zelda said, turning her eyes on him, “Link told me there were some Yiga attacks on Kakariko recently.”

Dorian, still on the floor, flinched. “There have, your Majesty.”

“Is the village still in danger?” Zelda asked.

“No, your Majesty,” Dorian said, and there was something hard about his voice. After learning the truth of his story from Link, Paya understood why. She almost regretted sending Cato away and not Dorian.

“Please stand,” Zelda requested. Dorian did. Zelda took his hands in hers and smiled kindly. “Thank you. I know it must have been difficult. If there is anything you know about them, anything there’s left to be said, please let one of us three know. I assure you, we will not turn you away out of hand.”

“Of course,” Dorian said, nodding eagerly, “thank you.”

Zelda let go of his hands with a pleased smile and turned to Paya and Link. “Then, shall we?”

Paya nodded. Link sent her a thumbs up. Zelda’s eyes lingered on Paya, so she stepped past her, leading the way up the stairs. She didn’t look back, but listened as hard as she could for any sign from Zelda that she was struggling. With an introduction like that to Kakariko as it was now, if Zelda did something like trip or stop halfway through to catch her breath, her reputation may never recover.

They made it to the top with little issue. Paya opened the doors and slipped inside to kneel in front of her grandmother.

“I’ve returned,” Paya said, “Link and Zelda are just outside.”

Grandmother lifted her head. It was a good day, Paya decided, her grandmother’s complexion was clear and she didn’t look visibly unhappy. Her shoulders weren’t tense. It didn’t look like she had been chewing on her lips or fingers since Paya had left. It almost looked like a burden had been relieved from her. Paya was happy. Good days were hard to come by.

The first day that Link had arrived in Kakariko had been a bad day. Grandmother had been exhausted from a stomach bug, sleepless and grumpy even as she tried to keep it together in front of her old, amnesiac friend.

But today was good.

“Then what are you waiting for? Let them in!” Grandmother ordered, smiling wide.

Paya grinned back and stood, bouncing over to the doors. She opened them again and gestured for her boyfriend and friend to enter. Zelda glanced around the room, took in the walls, the pedestal, the mats and cushions, and then Grandmother.

“Impa!” Zelda gasped.

“Zelda,” Impa said, opening her arms. Zelda fell into them, the two clinging tight to each other. Link settled on one of the blue cushions, grinning at their reunion. “You took so long I was beginning to wonder if you would ever come see me! How dare you make an old hag like me worry.”

Zelda giggled. “You were an old hag even when you were twenty, of course I made you worry! It’s unavoidable.”

Grandmother scoffed as the three of them launched into a fast paced conversation. Paya disappeared deeper into the house, stashing her bags in her room upstairs and checking through the home to make sure Lasli had been cleaning it as promised. The rooms all looked up to Paya’s standards, the restroom was clean, Grandmother’s stuff was in order and arranged for her comfort, the kitchen was stocked. Paya set about making tea, one of the few things she could make on her own.

She served the tea in the main room, smiled at the thanks she got and moved to the village complains ledger – the Journal of Various Worries, technically, but no one even called it that.

It was mostly unchanged. There was a new entry that was absolutely from Olkin, complaining about carrots (as usual). It was paired with a response, most likely from Steen, saying something about how pumpkins suck (also as usual). The second new entry was definitely from Koko, politely asking for more special ingredients beneath the adults’ childish argument. Paya took mental note of what Koko asked for – she would talk to Link about getting more for her. Olkin and Steen would resolve themselves, there was no point losing time thinking about it.

The entries from before she left were still unresolved. Trissa needed some special order things for her shop, but needed help balancing the budget before she could do that. Rola had come up with a few new ideas on how to get people into archery, but needed a night everyone was free – including Cado, surprisingly. Ollie was requesting shorter hours; Paya grabbed the pen and wrote, we agreed last time that your current shift is the shortest it can be without leaving the guests out in the cold - P. She added her name to Nanna’s under the column for people who couldn’t make Rola’s event and left Trissa’s entry alone.

She refilled everyone’s tea and took a seat to the side of everyone. It was her usual spot, just in case something happened with her grandmother. When she was smaller, it was because she was young and needed her grandmother’s support to even face the other villagers.

It took a shockingly long time for the conversation to loop back around to the subject of Hyrule. Maybe Paya shouldn’t’ve been surprised. It looked like Zelda and Grandmother had been close when they were young women. Grandmother was telling her everything – how she met Grandfather, the children Grandmother had and lost, the loss of Grandfather before Paya was born, Paya’s own birth, the loss of Paya’s parents and uncle, everything that Grandmother could probably think of. Zelda didn’t have much to add, but every now and then she interjected to give context to some event, because she’d just so happened to be looking in that general direction at the time and taken note.

At some point Koko poked her little head through the door and Paya excused herself to grab food from the big pots Koko cooked out of. She only cooked like this once a week – otherwise she only cooked enough for herself, Grandmother, and Paya. Dorian insisted on cooking for his girls and not letting them cook for him all that often, even though Koko was ready to go any day of the week.

It was after the food was finished that they finally came all the way around to discussing the future of the Queendom.

“Never believe for an instant that I don’t appreciate what you’ve done for me,” Zelda said, reaching out to grab Grandmother’s hands. Grandmother let her, clung to her hands in that understated, dignified way of hers. Paya wondered if Zelda even noticed the alarm on Grandmother’s face. Did she still know her friend that well, after a century apart? “But I don’t have any intention of taking the throne. There isn’t even a throne left to take anymore. I don’t see the need to place a target not only on my back, but on Link’s back, and your back, and the backs of everyone involved with the project just for – what, for me to wear a crown and live it up while my people suffer?”

“That isn’t what I’m asking you to do and you know it,” Grandmother scoffed, “I’m asking you to rebuild, Zelda, that’s very different from what Queenhood would have demanded a hundred years ago. Back then, it was a duty and a pressure, but this is different. Being queen now means Hyrule rebuilt into the image you wish of it.”

“Back then,” Zelda said, voice cold, “could have been a couple weeks ago for me, Impa. I remember clearly what it means to rule and I will not do that to anyone alive today. I would be honored to help the rebuilding process, everything I am for my people, of course, but I can’t just take over. And even if I did, who would know me? I cannot rule the people on Link’s word and your reputation, whatever much of it remains. The Rito don’t even recognize Link as the same hero that existed a hundred years ago! The Zora and Gorons are comfortable in their mountains! They might not even allow me to set foot in Gerudo Town again. These people don’t want to unite under the banner of Hyrule again.”

“Which is what Paya is for,” Grandmother said, “to show you how to get them to unite once more. I am not just sending you into the world without any support, Zel. You’re getting the best of the children to help you.”

“That is not the issue here,” Zelda said, “I am saying I cannot unite the four nations that surround us and that Paya has told me – no, don’t interrupt, I asked her first thing – Paya has told me that the Hylian settlements that remain all favour elected leadership. A queen is not elected, Impa. And as I said, they do not know me. Why would they trust me?”

“A unified government would convince them to allow you to take power,” Grandmother argued, “you’re right, they don’t know you. And they won’t until you go out there and start making changes and gaining their loyalty. Did you think that they know Link because he sat on his ass all day?”

“Grandmother!”

“They trust Link because he’s done the work,” she continued, like she hadn’t heard Paya, “the way they will trust you once you put in the time and effort.”

“I will not be sitting on my ass,” Zelda said, expression screwing up, though she didn’t let go of Grandmother’s hands, “I already told you I will be happy to help. And maybe in five, ten, maybe even twenty years from now, we can come back to this queen idea. But I will not take advantage of a people who are already on their knees for whatever perceived status you think this gives me!”

“Perceived status,” Grandmother snorted, “it is the head of the queendom, Zel. That isn’t perceived status, that is true power.”

“Impa, I don’t want power,” Zelda said, each word heavy and deliberate.

“You have power, goddess power, no less. It’s more than you had a princess.” Zelda let go to cross her arms over her chest. Grandmother rolled her eyes. “Don’t throw a tantrum about it. It’s only natural that you take your throne back, Zelda, it’s your birthright. You are the queen, regardless of how you feel. If you don’t take advantage of that, your people will suffer more.”

“They are doing fine without a monarchy to leech off of them,” Zelda snapped, “and I imagine they will continue to do so, no matter what I choose to do.”

“And what happens when calamity returns?” Grandmother said. Link looked up from the mug of tea he had been staring into, eyes sharp on Grandmother’s face.

“We killed Calamity Ganon,” Zelda said. In contrast to the anger that had been growing this entire time, Zelda’s voice was quiet again. Maybe some part of her training to be royalty, or maybe just out of energy. Paya wondered if she should get Zelda a cup of cold water or something.

“You’re deliberately missing the point,” Grandmother sniffed, “what happens without the monarchy when another great misfortune befalls Hyrule? When some outside country decides to invade, or if the Yiga attack again. Governments are good for that. We’re already down on our luck; getting you and Link back was a miracle unto itself. What if we’ve used all of that up? What if, in our time of need, we are attacked once again? How can you help then if you’re not the queen?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Zelda said, and the emotion was draining away, leaving behind a bone deep exhaustion. “We have before. We will figure it out again. We have the Sheikah information network, we have Link’s contacts in all major cities and most stables, we have Link and I.”

“And how many must die before you figure it out?” Grandmother said. “Hyrule cannot withstand another hundred year siege before you gather enough goddess energy to smite evil.”

“Impa –”

“Now, you listen to me.” Grandmother snatched Zelda’s wrist. “What will you do then? Retire again to live a meaningless existence on the edge of your land? Or will you grow a pair and actually do something to help? Scream and cry and throw a fit all you want –”

Paya surged to her feet. “Grandmother! Be civil, or we’re done here.”

“I will get to you later,” Grandmother snapped, “and don’t you interrupt me again. Zelda, you cannot expect to –”

Oh, fuck it.

“No, you’re done,” Paya said and stepped between Zelda and Grandmother. She didn’t bother with Grandmother’s hand – she reached for Zelda and helped her stand. Link was at their side in an instant. Grandmother was dislodged with all the movement, and toppled back amongst her pillows, though she didn’t actually fall. Link caught Zelda, whose legs seemed to have gone to sleep (or worse, but Paya wasn’t thinking beyond ending this whole situation).

“Go to the inn,” Paya told him, “if they try and ask for payment, just say I’ll cover it.”

Link didn’t protest the way he had Paya attempting to pay at Hateno, just nodded and steered Zelda towards the door.

“Children,” Grandmother hissed, “so eager to turn your ears from the truth. Who will save us when the world ends again? Who is going to protect us?! Who will save us when you’re gone?!”

But Link and Zelda were already outside. Paya took a couple big breaths and forced herself to calm down. She couldn’t be acting like this. This was her grandmother. Paya needed to be more gentle with her – what if she had been hurt because Paya stopped using her brain and decided to physically remove Zelda from the situation?

“Sorry,” Paya said as gently as she could. Another big breath. “I think I might’ve overreacted.” She turned to find her grandmother frowning at her. “But you can’t just yell at Zelda to make her see your point. That isn’t how you taught me to debate, Grandmother.”

“No,” Grandmother admitted, “help me get comfortable.”

Paya knelt beside her, helping her grandmother rearrange her pillows and sit in a position that wouldn’t cause her any more pain than was to be expected from someone so old. Grandmother calmed down slowly; Paya left her only long enough to brew another pot of tea to bring back to Grandmother. She also brought a jug of cold water and a couple cups to pour it into. She served her grandmother and settled down in her normal spot when they were alone, at the edge of the pedestal that used to hold the ancient object.

She watched her Grandmother and tried not to react too much to her grandmother watching her just as closely.

When Grandmother finished her cup of cold water, she sighed. “No, you’re right. I lost my temper. I’ve spent years waiting. . . what a welcome to give to my oldest living friend.”

“Sorry again for overreacting,” Paya said softly.

Grandmother shook her head. She reached for her mug, hesitating when she noticed it was empty. Paya got up to pour some more from her. Grandmother sighed again, cupping it in her hands and holding it close to her. “I was worried. I thought if I fell from my cushions, you would let it happen.”

Paya drew herself up to glare at her grandmother. “Don’t even think like that! Obviously, I’d help you. Come on, you’re my grandmother. Why would I just leave you to suffer?”

“Even though I yelled at you out of turn?” Grandmother said.

“I also yelled out of turn,” Paya admitted, “so I think we’re even.”

Grandmother smiled at her. “You honor me.”

Always so formal, Paya thought, dipping her head. Grandmother had more to say, of course.

“I haven’t gotten to argue with her in so long,” Grandmother mused, staring into her mug, “old habits. She truly hasn’t aged a day. No wonder. I’ve had the past century to mature and to grow into my own. She has only had her eternal battle. No, I shouldn’t have pushed so hard.”

Paya nodded a little, but didn’t dare interrupt as her grandmother paused to sip her tea.

“Regrets,” Grandmother continued, “by the time you’re my age, they become your best friends. Paya, how old are you this year?”

“Twenty,” Paya answered.

“Twenty,” Grandmother echoed, “you’re older than I was.”

Paya delicately put her mug on the floor. Oh no. She had a horrible feeling about wherever this conversation was going.

“Paya,” Grandmother said, the tone she used whenever she just made a decision that she knew no one was going to like, “I want you to be the matriarch of the Sheikah.”

Paya stared at her.

Grandmother smiled down at Paya.

“Can I decline?” Paya asked when it became clear that Grandmother wasn’t going to say anything.

“Absolutely not,” Grandmother said, “and in fact, I’ve already prepared everything for you. While you were getting Zelda and Link, I made sure Kakariko was in agreement and started arranging for the ceremony. We’ll be having it first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Buh – buh –” Paya stopped herself and focused on her breathing.

Her? The matriarch?

That couldn’t be right. There were better people, weren’t there? The aunties would all be better choices. Or maybe Claree. Not Paya. She couldn’t even speak right most days, couldn’t even say her own name without all the syllables getting caught up in her mouth. She wasn’t the right choice.

And if all her agemates hadn’t left, she wouldn’t be a choice. She was a last ditch option, the last choice for a dying woman, and she was genuinely hurt that her grandmother even thought she was the right choice. Hurt that grandmother got the whole town in on the embarrassment that Paya was. Hurt that everyone apparently had joined in on that just to – to what, to make Paya’s life harder? To pit her up against odds she couldn’t face?

“I am,” Paya said, very slowly because if she spoke any faster the words would smash together and come out garbled and rushed, “not fit to be matriarch.”

“Don’t be humble,” Grandmother said, “though in truth, that’s what I thought when I was chosen as well. Still, I see so much of myself in you. And I know who you are and the kind of person you are. I have seen it since you were a little girl. You are the leader this village needs if we are to make it through what comes next.”

“I don’t believe you,” Paya said, trying to mimic Link’s slow, steady method of speaking. Even if he wasn’t used to it, he tried, and so Paya could try and match his effort.

“I don’t need you to believe me,” Grandmother said, “and besides, you already know how it all works. It isn’t like I raised you to be the matriarch, you know. I raised you to be a good person and a good fighter. A good Sheikah. That you would make a good matriarch is a side effect and a boon to us all.”

Paya shook her head a little. “Aren’t I – aren’t I leaving?”

“The village runs well enough without interference,” Grandmother said, “and if we couldn’t function for a couple years without you, then I have not done my job as the last survivor of the Calamity. One of the last – Link tells me Purah and Robbie are still alive, though they have yet to come visit or even send me a letter the old fashioned way. Useless scientists.” Grandmother sighed.

Paya wondered if telling Grandmother that Purah Auntie was a little girl again would give her a heart attack. She couldn’t be certain either way. . . whenever they got back to Hateno, she would have to tell Purah Auntie to get into contact with Grandmother somehow.

“Take all the time you need to find your footing,” Grandmother said softly. She reached out. Paya shuffled closer, let her grandmother place a small, wrinkly palm on top of Paya’s head. “And know that when you come home, our people will be ready to have you.”

“If you say so,” Paya said.

“I do say so,” Grandmother said.

“And what will you do?” Paya asked.

“Explore the world,” Grandmother said, “I’ve been cooped up in here too long. I’ll be taking Cado with me, I think. Dorian needs to stay with his girls and Rola doesn’t want Cado anyway. It will take some time to plan, though, so don’t worry about me getting in your way.”

“If you say so,” Paya said uncertainly, “I guess Dorian will be taking care of the house, then?”

“Yes, I imagine so,” Grandmother said. “Ah, what an eventful evening. I’m tired, Paya, come help me to bed.”

Paya nodded and stood. She helped Grandmother to the bathroom, cleaned the main room, helped Grandmother to bed, and then did a last check of the house before finally moving upstairs to her bedroom. She changed and flopped into bed. Honestly, she probably should have taken a bath or something, but she was tired and overwhelmed.

The matriarch of the Sheikah. The chief of Kakariko Village.

A position that Paya had never once truly believed she would be able to hold. It had just never been in the cards for her. She was just. . . too young, too unwise, too impulsive. Too anxious, too insecure. Could barely fight, had only just started learning the Sheikah arts. Too sheltered. Too too too – too herself.

Paya hid underneath her covers.

What was Grandmother thinking? Did she want the village to burn?

Which, matriarch didn’t just mean in charge of the whole village, it meant the information networks. It meant choosing who got to know what. It meant taking responsibility for the defected Sheikah, the Yiga who still remembered their routes. Her agemates would be her problem, not her grandmothers.

She was going to have to make choices for the village. Choices that no one remembered anyone but Grandmother making. There was no one else to ask, aside from Zelda, and who knew how much of the Sheikah she had been allowed to know about?

What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know how to be matriarch.

And tomorrow the whole town was supposed to take part in the ceremony and she was going to have to speak in front of all of them – public speaking, and not just as some village kid, but as the de facto leader of the Sheikah –

Paya didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t lead. She didn’t know how.

She didn’t want to.

She was scared.

⚔️👑⚔️

When Paya left the house the next morning, she felt a lot better, honestly. She’d managed to actually sleep last night, despite her nerves, and Grandmother had already been out of the house (the note on top of her pillows in Dorian’s handwriting said that she had gone to the goddess statue) which meant that Paya could pig out on Koko’s leftovers in the kitchen without her grandmother leaning back two inches on her pile of pillows to judge her bad eating habits.

This also meant that when Paya stepped outside, the whole village was already gathered by the statue. Link was on the balcony, crunching away on an apple to break up the silence. He smiled at her.

“Chief Paya?” He signed. “You’re moving up in the world.” There was something wary about his expression.

“If you’re worried about me leaving you and Zelda, don’t be,” Paya let him know.

Link smiled and pushed off the railing, finishing the apple in two big bites. “Good. I’d kiss you right now if I thought I could get away with it.”

Paya covered her face with her hands as Link laughed at her.

“Come on,” Paya said, kicking a foot in Link’s direction, “I’m late enough as it is.”

He gestured for her to go first. Paya swallowed, took a steadying breath, and started down the stairs. Link followed her, a silent guard. The others smiled at her as she passed them, all of them looking proud and excited. Paya tried not to let it get to her. The weight of their expectations. Still, even Cottla looked like she was having the time of her life, and all she generally cared about was having fun.

Grandmother stood on one side of the little platform in front of the statue. Zelda stood in front of the goddess statue. She was wearing an outfit that Paya hadn’t actually seen before. Deep navy blues with white and gold details; the colors of the Hylian crown.

Taking up her mantle for this ceremony, Paya assumed as she knelt before them both.

“As you know,” Grandmother said, her voice gathering over the waiting crowd, “I am retiring. I have spent a century in service to you and our ancestors. Today we are gathered to pass on that role to my beloved granddaughter, Paya. We all know that leadership is not blood bound outside of what the Goddess dictates. Even the heroes of Hyrule have not all been blood related.

“But Paya has, since she was a child, exhibited leadership qualities that have only grown and strengthened with time. She is kind, patient, and wise. She takes care of others regardless of her own desires and frequently comes to solutions that benefit all involved. You all know her as well as I do. We all have benefited from her presence here in Kakariko Village, whether that is from her careful monitoring of the Journal of Various Worries or from her insistence on spending time with and taking care of us all.

“If anyone – other than Paya herself,” Grandmother amended fondly, “has a grievance with Paya or an objection to her becoming Chief, now is the time to speak.”

In the ringing silence, praying for someone to say something, Paya came to another horrible realization.

They believed everything Grandmother said. Even if she was wrong about Paya, she was wrong so rarely that no one would think twice about putting their full faith in Paya, because it was Grandmother who suggested it. And if they believed that Paya was all these nice things, then they expected her to continue to be all these nice things. Which Paya couldn’t promise and might not even be able to carry about because she was, at the heart of her, not selfless and caring like her grandmother said, but anxious and tired.

“Queen Zelda,” Grandmother said. Paya lifted her head, just enough to see Zelda’s smile tighten, just for a half second. “Do you find fault with my intended successor?”

“None,” Zelda said, “I believe she would be a marvelous chief, as you have been since your own appointment.” She and Grandmother shared a smile.

Then Grandmother came around to stand in front of Paya. Paya lowered head again, eyes finding her Grandmother’s small shoes and the fabric that brushed against the ground. Paya’s chest ached. A few years ago, Grandmother wouldn’t have allowed her hems to touch the dirt. Was she tired today, or was she just older?

A murmur went up. Paya watched a circular shadow move from over her grandmother to over her, and then a heavy weight settled on her head. She watched the Sheikah eyes swing from edges from her grandmother’s hat.

“With this, I pass my mantle down to you,” Grandmother said, “that you might watch over our people and fulfill the needs of the queen. Chief Paya of the Sheikah, rise and take your place at your queen’s side.”

Grandmother stepped back. For a moment Paya considered throwing off the cap and running. Considered breaking down and letting herself fall to pieces. Considered a lot worse than that.

Instead she stood. She lifted her head and made contact with Zelda. She was staring at Paya, eyes wide, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hands were clasped in front of her. She wasn’t smiling. But she also wasn’t making any other recognizable expression. Paya stepped just behind and to the right of Zelda. Link was already on her other side, Paya noticed.

She half bowed to her people from behind Zelda. They all beamed back at her – a couple were in tears. Paya smiled at them as Grandmother turned to her, looking oddly bare without her big hat.

“Thank you,” Paya said, “I’ll do my best.” She didn’t know what else there was to say. She didn’t know if she could say anything else.

It must have been enough, because the town echoed her sentiments back to her, and bowed to Zelda, and then dispersed, off to do their own things. Paya sighed heavily, shoulders slumping, hat falling back to rest against her shoulder blades.

“I stressed all night,” Paya said, “and it was that simple.”

“That’s usually how it goes, yes,” Zelda said, covering her mouth as she giggled. “How are you feeling?”

“Not sure yet,” Paya admitted quietly, looking down at her hands, “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

“Take as long as you need,” Grandmother said – or should Paya start referring to her as Impa, now? “Like I said, you can go on all the adventures you need to. Just make sure to return home at the end of them, so you can take charge.”

“Right,” Paya said, “of course.”

Her grandmother oohed and aahed over her for another couple minutes before she was off, Cado carrying her up the many stairs of their home. Paya watched them go, tugging at her fingers.

“I’m of half a mind to leave now,” Zelda said, “quit while we’re ahead, you know?”

“I can get the horses,” Link signed.

“Do the townspeople know I’m leaving?” Paya asked.

“Impa told everyone just before you started walking down,” Zelda confirmed.

“Then I’m good to go,” Paya said, “what about you two?”

“I’m ready if you’re ready,” Zelda said.

“Let’s do it,” Link said, “give me just a moment.” He turned and jogged off.

Zelda took the opportunity to touch the edge of the hat with gentle fingers. Paya stepped into her space, a little overaware of just how close they were. Zelda didn’t seem to notice, finding one of the Sheikah eyes and running her thumb over the cold metal. This wasn’t really Grandmother’s hat, Paya knew just by looking at it; it was too new and the eyes were a different metal – they shined differently.

“You look just like Impa did,” Zelda said thoughtfully, “I’m going to have some trouble keeping you two straight. You already looked like her, but you were different enough in demeanor. . . I had to accept Impa as chief too. I was very young, something like fourteen? I don’t even remember what I said or what the previous chief was like.”

“What was she like?” Paya asked, out of curiosity. “My grandmother.”

“Loud,” Zelda said, “and stubborn. We argued just as often as we got along, though most of her energy went into organizing Sheikah efforts at the castle. We were researching the Divine Beasts, as I’m sure you know, that took a lot of coordinating. I only ever saw her truly boss around the Sheikah in regards to that. After the Calamity, I was too busy to look directly at her – too busy or too upset. She was one of my true friends. I got along with Purah and Robbie, of course, and Link was by my side pretty much since I turned fifteen, but Impa was my friend. It’s strange to befriend her granddaughter now, a century later.”

She fell quiet for a long time, playing with the metal eye in her hands and staring off into middle distance. Paya tried not to stare – but the gentle wind tugged at the ends of Zelda’s short hair and the sun danced over her skin, making her green eyes glitter and the gold shining from within seem more dull and muted.

When she came back to the present, Link was walking over with the horses, Hanon and Rupee each in one hand, Bastard plodding along behind them.

“You’re really nothing like her,” Zelda said, letting go of the hat, “and I believe that to be your strength. The Sheikah are used to Impa and are used to catering to her priorities. In light of that, the village has remained stable – but that means the village has not yet had the chance to grow. With the calamity over and Hyrule in recovery, a new chief for Kakariko can only mean that there is room for change and for development of what it means to be Sheikah. You are not your grandmother, Paya. Your time in charge will be different.”

That was exactly what Paya had been afraid of, but she nodded and took the advice for what it was. Zelda was simply concerned and saying what she thought would help Paya, what might have helped for her to hear when she was first confronted with the idea of being queen.

“Thank you,” Paya said quietly, “I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

Zelda nodded, taking Hanon’s rains from Link as he approached. She pet the stallion, running her fingers down the length of his face and running a hand along what parts of his flank weren’t covered by his saddle.

“That being said,” Zelda continued with a bright smile at Paya, “I hope this doesn’t mean that you will be any more formal with me than you already are. I don’t particularly care that you’ve sworn service to me, or something. I am your friend, Paya, first and foremost. I hope we can continue to be friends, even if you have a fancy new position now.”

Link snorted and shook his head.

“Don’t worry,” Paya said, reaching for Rupee, “I don’t think anything will ever change that.”

⚔️👑⚔️

They couldn’t take the horses to Zora’s Domain, according to Link. The paths were too small and the curves would make them too nervous. Aside from Bastard, of course, who could power through anything. They would have to leave them at the nearest stable and then head over on foot, which would take anywhere from a full day’s walk to a couple days if the weather got bad.

They’d already tried the slate. It only teleported one person at once.

They could take the horses down Sahasra Slope, either, so they were stuck leaving the way they came in, through the mountains and over Kakariko Bridge. They skirted the edges of the Ash Swamp and spent the night at the Dueling Peaks Stable – they were too far from their next stop to push forwards through the afternoon.

Then across the Big Twin Bridge, hang a right and off the plodded between the Dueling Peaks. Zelda spent her time perched on Hanon’s back, one of Link’s many bows in her hands and several quivers of arrows strapped to her thighs and saddlebags. She provided cover for Link and Paya, who had to fight their way through the monsters that lingered in the area. Frankly, Paya was shocked that they survived Zelda’s blast of golden light. It made some amount of sense, though, because by the time they made it between the Peaks and out to follow the Squabble River, Paya was exhausted. Link seemed to be doing fine, aside from the way his hair and clothes were now sticking to his sweaty body.

They stopped before the Proxim Bridge to devour lunch. Even Zelda was tired, taking an equal amount of time cooling off where the Squabble River met the Hylia River.

“We’re going to cut through the East Post Ruins,” Link let them know, awkwardly signing around the mushroom skewer he was eating. “Head north along the Hylia river and pass Owlan Bridge. Just past that should be Riverside Stable.”

“Oh, good,” Zelda said, “another stable! I wonder what their specialty is – for Dueling Peaks Stable, it served as a way point, right?”

Link nodded.

“How fascinating!” Zelda said, clapping her hands together. “It must have been the location that did it, right? I wonder if location is the determining factor. Or how it affects non-vocational services. Dueling Peaks seems to be a really important stable, it’s a little big, isn’t it? Not in comparison to the towns, of course, but on its own. Do they import all of their food? Or is there a trading system in place that I’m unaware of? Do the stables maintain contact with each other, or is it deemed too dangerous? Are merchants the only travelers, or are there more little people – can they even be called little people? It isn’t as though being a traveling salesman is as highly paying now as it was before. You know, it never occurred to me to watch the stables, not before Link woke up. Think of how much I missed! Generations worth knowledge that I’ve completely overlooked. When I think about it –”

The air was weirdly still, Paya realized. She glanced at Link, who hadn’t stiffened, but had tilted his head, ears twitching, scanning. She’d felt this before, hadn’t she? At home, when practicing with her grandmother.

Paya closed her eyes and disappeared in a puff of smoke. She forced her eyes open, looking out into the endless dark.

She found a figure sneaking forward – clothed in red, a mask on their face, eyes focused on where Zelda was sitting, if she had been in this world between worlds. Paya drew her own knives as the Yiga Clan member took out an eight-fold blade.

Paya darted forward, soundless. The figure turned sharply. Their blades collided with a silent clang of metal on metal.

They fell out of limbo. Paya flipped. She barely made it over Link’s blade. She ignored the implications. Zelda yelped. She rolled out of the way, towards the horses. Paya struck again.

One of her knives sunk into their attacker’s guts. There was a rough wheeze as they stumbled. An arrow spouted from the ground by Paya’s boot.

The attacker’s sword ripped through the side of her shoulder. Link was there – he got in the way of the Yiga member.

Paya grit her teeth and teleported again. She came out on their other side, too far above the ground. Perfect, though accidental. She couldn’t slit their throat from this angle, but she buried it deep into their shoulder as she fell.

The two of them crashed to the ground.

Paya was up first, knives drawn, blood on her hands. But the attacker didn’t move. Didn’t try to teleport away, either. They knew she could just follow them. Paya reached for their mask and ripped it off.

“Are you ok?” Zelda asked. “I’m so sorry, I almost hit you with that arrow, Paya. I didn’t mean it, truly. I was just so shaken! I forgot how stressful assassination attempts were. Oh, you’ve already taken his mask off – Link, don’t Yiga usually teleport away? This one looks a little. . . like. . . oh, Paya.”

Paya didn’t know what to say to that.

Beneath her, soaked in blood, each breath bringing him closer to death, was a Sheikah man. White hair, the same red eyes as Paya. The same eyes as Paya. The same lips. The same nose. His face blurred beneath her.

“Keri Uncle,” Paya said. Her voice was low and speaking hurt. Still. Still, she had to try.

“Don’t,” he rasped, “cry.”

Paya shook her head.

Don’t cry? Don’t cry? He hadn’t seen her in over a decade, and she had just killed him, and his first words to her in all this time were Don’t cry?!

“You carried me everywhere,” Paya told him, trying to explain the reason she was crying for her enemy. “You made taking medicine fun.”

His expression screwed up – the same way that Paya’s father’s had, from what little she could remember of him. The same way, she was sure, that hers was all screwed up. Her cheeks were hot, soaked through with her own tears. Her hands shook as she reached for him. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. In the end she could only ineffectively press her hands to his cheeks.

“Chief Yaya, huh,” Keri Uncle said, eyes flicking behind her to take in the hat that rested against her shoulder blades, the old childhood nickname little more than a wheeze, “proud’f you.”

Paya ducked down and pressed her head to his heaving chest. She could hear his heartbeat pound in a desperate attempt to move his blood – in the same motion, bleeding him out. There was nothing she could do.

“Link,” Zelda said, “a fairy – or – or do you have any elixirs – it’s Paya’s uncle.” Paya didn’t look up to see his response. There was a weight on her head. Keri Uncle’s hand. He could only pat her head once. “What do you mean you don’t carry any anymore! You’ve gotta have something!” Paya clung to her uncle’s wrist.

She was feeling so much that it looped all the way around to feeling nothing again. There was no way to explain it, to put it into words. Her emotions spun around her and sunk into her brain, into her heart, and burned badly enough that they poured out of her eyes and her nose and made her sweat. She was dirty and exhausted and injured – and covered in the blood of Dad’s little brother. In Keri Uncle’s blood.

“How’s,” Uncle managed, though Paya wasn’t sure he would live long enough to finish his sentence, “your dad?”

Dead.

Dad was dead.

For years now. Over a decade, even.

Didn’t Uncle know? Did the Yiga not update their soldiers beyond the situation with Zelda?

Paya forced her head up and made eye contact with Uncle Keri. Or, she tried to. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking through her, like he was watching a memory playing just in front of her. She took his hand from her head and clutched it to her chest.

“He’s fine,” Paya lied, “eager to see you again. As soon as you’ve recovered, we’ll take you to him.”

Uncle’s lips twitched.

If he had an answer, Paya never heard it.

Zelda was saying something, yelling at Link. The horses stood around. The wind rustled through the leaves and made the trees sing. The river poured relentlessly next to them, filled the world with its calming noise. It was a lovely day. A beautiful day.

And Paya’s uncle lay in the dirt, dead by her hands.

Chapter Text

Riverside Stable was a relief.

“I’m getting us a room,” Zelda said, taking the Sheikah Slate from her hip, “and I’m going to talk to a bunch of people. How much was it last time, Link? Fifty rupees?”

Link nodded. He had been watching Paya since. . .

“Good,” Zelda said, extracting a purple rupee from the Slate, “now, you are going to cook as many elixirs as the Slate can hold and then you’re going to teleport to wherever the hell you find fairies and get as many as possible. We are not doing this again, do you understand?”

He nodded again. Zelda gave him the Slate and stormed inside the stable.

Paya followed Link to the pot over the fire at the side of the entrance. He shoved two of the low stools next to each other and sat on one, gesturing for Paya to sit on the other. She did, watching blankly as Link took out a collection of bugs and poured them into the pot, along with monster entrails. He friend them in the juices of the entrails for a few moments. Then h e jogged over to the river, scooping out some water with a bucket and r eturned to pour some into the pot. Steam rose into the air , hissing wildly.

Link stirred it. It came to a boil quickly. He covered it with the lid and sighed.

Paya didn’t really want to say anything right now, but the expectant look Link leveled on her meant that she probably wasn’t going to have a choice. Not to mention it was their first Zelda-free moment in a while. She’d been angry since – anyway, Paya supposed Zelda also suffered from the very common need to process some shit alone. It was charming. It would be more charming if Paya could focus on it for more than a couple minutes at a time.

As it was, Paya could barely focus on anything, right now. Fighting through the ruins and walking to the Stable was fine, it was movement. Paya didn’t have to think about anything or feel anything.

But now they had stopped and people were going to want her to have thoughts and opinions again. Paya didn’t know if she could do that right now. She didn’t know if she could do anything right now. Or, well, she knew she could, she just didn’t want to.

The thing was, it had been years.

It had been ages. She hadn’t even thought about her uncle in so long that – and it felt cruel to say – she barely remembered anything about him. He’d left so long ago. Disappeared, really.

She wouldn’t be shocked if he was the reason some of her old friends had joined the Yiga. He had been loved. Bright, energetic, always making the kids laugh. Always making Paya laugh. She used to be jealous of the other kids when he spent time with them. That was before everyone defected.

“Talk to me,” Link signed.

Paya shook her head.

Link sighed again and reached for her. He pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head. Paya closed her eyes and willed herself not to cry. He was very warm. She fit into him so easily. Like she belonged here.

“I woke up alone,” Link said, slow and very intentional in a way that Paya didn’t feel like she could ignore, “with nothing, and no one. And learned – Calamity happened because of me. I chose Zelda over Hyrule. I was not strong enough. I could not save both.”

“That’s not true,” Paya said, almost automatically.

Link shook his head and bopped her nose. “Listen.”

“Sorry,” Paya muttered.

“The choices,” Link continued, “were protect her, or protect Hyrule. No win scenario. We’d lost either way.” He was already starting to sound tired. Was this the most he had spoken since he woke up? Paya felt guilty. “I chose Zelda. The long game. You chose the same.”

Paya chose the same? No, that wasn’t right.

“That wasn’t the choice I was offered at all,” Paya said, straightening up and off of Link’s shoulder. The look he leveled on her wasn’t anything close to the pity or sadness she had expected after hearing that speech. His expression was hard, focused. The way he looked pretty much the entire time they’d known each other, before Zelda’s return brought the life and joy back into his face. “I went into that fight knowing that the Yiga I was fighting could be someone I lo- someone I used to know, and I still fought to kill. This is the consequence of that. I killed my own uncle! How is that anything like fighting Ganon?! Obviously, you chose to save Zelda. What other option was there? Just let her die? This is whole other situation!”

Link nodded. “You chose the same.”

“I didn’t!”

Link sighed and lifted the pot lid. He stirred the elixir – it was already taking on a deep red color, the steam escaping in a rush and leaving behind a slowly thickening sludge – and replaced the lid. He put the ladle back on the handle and turned to her, straddling the small stool. He raised his hands to finish explaining.

“I was a knight of the crown,” Link told her, “before I was ever the hero of Hyrule. I swore all the oaths, I passed all the tests. My father was one, too. He raised me in the life, the way your grandmother raised you to be the matriarch, no matter how much she tells you she didn’t. We were raised to be what we are.

“And the thing that I am, before anything else, is Zelda’s protector. I saved Hyrule, sure, I fought Ganon. But in order to do that, I had to forsake it for Zelda’s sake. We wouldn’t be here if Zelda died. I wouldn’t have the Master Sword, I wouldn’t’ve been saved in the Shrine of Resurrection, and we could not have banished Ganon without her power. I didn’t know all of that then, though.

“What I knew was that Zelda was in danger. If it was between my survival, or Hyrule’s survival, or anything else, against Zelda’s survival? Keeping Zelda alive was the only course of action.

“Him turning out to be your uncle doesn’t change anything. You saw a threat to Zelda and you took measures to end it. If you didn’t fight with the intention to kill, then you would’ve been at a disadvantage, and that might have cost you the fight. I’m sorry it was your uncle. And I’m sorry that you have to hurt so much. But between the Yiga trying to kill her and Zelda, who would you rather keep alive?”

It was a horrible way of looking at this situation and Link knew it. The entire time he talked, he didn’t fall out of that horrible, stern demeanor, even when the grammar of Hylian sign language required him to change expression. He wasn’t approaching this as a partner, or as someone who lost a member of his family. He was approaching it as a sworn knight to the princess of Hyrule.

It made sense for someone who claimed to have chosen her over the lives of millions of Hylians.

That was like choosing Zelda over all of Kakariko, and Paya couldn’t do that, could she? She wasn’t like Link. She couldn’t just dedicate herself all to one cause the way he could. She wasn’t that kind of person, was she?

To Paya’s surprise, he stopped his speech there, resting his hands in his lap as he waited for her response. She thought he was going to keep going, to offer some sort of ultimatum beyond picking between the Yiga and Zelda. But he didn’t. As always, he said what he needed to say, and now he was done speaking overall.

Paya wasn’t sure what to say. Every inch of her rebelled against the idea that her friend was more important than her own uncle. Or that there was a more important to be. They should be ranked the same, shouldn’t they?

Her eyes drifted past him, finding Zelda. She was speaking to someone, movements large and animated. Distracting herself, Paya thought, or giving Link and her time to speak.

She hadn’t known the Yiga was Keri Uncle. If she had known, would she have chosen differently? She watched Zelda laugh, her green eyes sparkling. Between the person that was in her life now and the uncle who abandoned her when she was a kid, how would she choose?

Between Berri and Tete and the others against Zelda, who would she choose?

Effectively, every time she went up against the Yiga from now on, she was fighting against the people she had grown up with. The only friends she had ever had. People who had loved her and left for the promise of something better. People who were now trying to kill one of two people Paya wanted to protect. Probably even both of them.

“I would still pick Zelda,” Paya admitted, voice shaking.

Link nodded, horrible understanding on his face.

Paya opened and closed her mouth a couple times, but in the end nothing would come out. Instead she leaned forward and into her partner. Link gathered her up in his arms and hugged her tightly. She clung to him.

“Such is the life,” Link muttered, “always only bad choices.”

Paya nodded. She tried not to dig her fingernails into him. Always only bad choices.

Had Link ever had to have this conversation as a child? As an almost-adult, given the Master Sword and the duty of protecting Zelda? Did someone sit Link down and tell him that he was to sacrifice the world so long as it meant Zelda would live another day?

Or had he come to this conclusion himself? Did he watch the castle fall and place his faith in Zelda of his own accord? What had sparked that conclusion? What made him look at Zelda and see not only the princess he was supposed to protect but someone worth his full faith and dedication? Was it something that she did? Some big gesture or event? Or had Link seen her do normal, ordinary things, and decided that her normalcy should be watched over?

Which was it for Paya?

What about Zelda made her worth killing for? What about her made her worth the sacrifice of Paya’s uncle?

Because it had to have been worth it. He was dead. It could not be in vain, though Paya was scrambling for a reason to attach to it.

Grandmother had always said that the reason they did all this, the reason Paya had to train, the reason she had to do her best, was to support the Princess. And Paya had done that. She’d bought into it and focused hard on doing things for the sake of Zelda and had never once questioned it. Was that how Link was raised? Was it really –

No, what was she thinking, of course it was necessary.

Yes, Zelda was the princess. Yes, she was descendant of the Goddess Hylia, but Paya had already decided that doesn’t matter, right? In the tub, seeing for the first time that Zelda was just a normal woman beneath the magic and the gold in her blood, she decided that she would treat Zelda as a person, hadn’t she? This was the natural consequence of that. She was overthinking it.

To make it less complicated, between a man who was attempting murder and her friend who was about to get murdered, obviously she would save her friend.

If her uncle had shown up to talk to her, with his words, Paya would still have defended Zelda because Zelda was her friend. Before she was princess or queen, before she was the blood of the Goddess, before any of it, Zelda was her friend. And Paya had decided to protect her. If Kami Uncle had decided to kill Zelda without a mask on, Paya might’ve pulled her punches at the start, but they would still end in the same place, wouldn’t they.

It hurt that her uncle died. Paya would never see his laugh again, never get to mess around and prank the other members of the household again, but that was how she had already lived. He’d left without a word.

Did anything really change? Other than his blood being on her hands, she was still in the same situation.

She had lived as if he was dead for well over a decade. Now, she only had confirmation that it was true. A cruel, cold comfort to the way her hands still itched with blood long since washed off, but comfort nonetheless.

Paya let go to wipe her face and hide behind her hands. She glowered at her partner from between her fingers. Link laughed a little and bonked his head against the side of hers, very gently.

“I’ve gotta go grab some fairies,” Link signed, “should only take a half hour to hit up all the fairy fountains. Let it boil for another fifteen minutes, then ladle into bottles. Got it?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Paya said. He took a frankly staggering amount of empty bottles out of the Slate and, with a with a little wiggle of his fingers, disappeared into a shower of blue sparks. Paya watched him go, feeling a little empty inside. She lifted the pot lid the way that Link had – angled away from her so that the steam wouldn’t burn her hand on the way out – and gave the elixir a quick stir with the ladle before replacing the lid.

She really didn’t feel much better. She was glad Link hadn’t asked if she was.

Every new thing she learned about his past was the worst thing in the world. Every new detail he felt fit to share honestly, from the bottom of her heart, sucked.

Zelda ended her conversation and made a beeline for Paya. She plopped down in the seat Link had vacated and gave Paya an apologetic look.

“Doing ok?” She asked.

“Not really,” Paya said honestly, “but I’m not uh, I’m not, not super messed up about it.”

Zelda hummed and nodded. She peeked under the pot lid and then sat back, fidgeting. Paya eyed her.

“Look,” Zelda said finally, glancing up at Paya’s face and looking away just as quickly, “I was thinking that this is kinda – I feel like this might’ve been a terrible idea. Not the refusing to be queen thing, but the bringing you with me to travel the world. I know you promised to be at my side and believe me when I say I am both grateful and relieved to hold that promise, but the last thing I want right now is for you to come to any more harm than you already have. I really do care about you, Paya, and I know that this whole situation has been difficult – not just your uncle passing away but with becoming a chief and – and all the fighting and having to take care of me even now. I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted out, all you would have to do is say. I wouldn’t question or begrudge you. I am thankful for your support, but I don’t want you to get anymore hurt than you already have.”

“Yeah?” Paya asked.

“Yeah,” Zelda said, “I mean, I – I want you to know that I’m so grateful, I really am. But this is like, what I want to not have to deal with anymore, you know? I know it is a great honor and it’s very fulfilling to sacrifice on behalf of the crown, but that’s so. . . I hate that you have to hurt just because I’m your queen. It’s – I don’t want that.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Paya asked.

Zelda stared.

Paya smiled uncomfortably back at her. “It would be. . . inauspicious, I think, if I was to return so early. I would stay by your side if I could, but if you want me gone, I’ll go happily.” The words tasted like ash in her mouth, but she made herself say them anyway. “I won’t protest if you ask me to leave.”

For a long time, Zelda stared at her. Took in the lines of Paya’s face, stared at her eyes and cheeks and lips and nose. Paya wondered what she was thinking. What she saw when she looked at Paya.

“No,” Zelda said, firmly, “stay with me.”

“I will,” Paya said, tension draining away. Zelda relaxed as well, leaning forwards to stir the pot again. There was something happening in her head, Paya thought, some important thought or realization. Zelda never really hid when she was having a moment. She was wholly uninteresting in hiding the fact that her mind was always traveling with the speed and unpredictability of the wind.

“I’m sorry about your uncle,” Zelda murmured, “I think it took me fifty years to actually process my own father’s death. Longer still to come to terms with Hyrule as a whole. I can’t imagine how you must feel right now.”

“Thank you,” Paya said.

“I saw you and Link hugging,” Zelda said, and for a second Paya thought she was going to make a comment on the nature of their relationship – but Zelda just said, “would you like another hug?” She held out her arms before Paya even responded.

Again, Paya was touched by her kindness. Zelda had lost infinitely more than Paya would ever have, and here she was again, trying to help Paya despite that. Zelda was heartbreakingly kind. Paya almost couldn’t believe it.

Still, she scooted over so she could indulge in a hug from Zelda. She was warm, like Link was warm, and just a touch softer. She gave great hugs. Paya stayed as close to her as long as she could, feeling both like she was taking advantage of Zelda’s kindness and her uncle’s death. Her uncle that she killed. Was his death worth Paya getting to relax in the arms of the people she cared so much for? Was his death worth her getting to selfishly hug Zelda until the elixir finished cooking? And then to lean on her shoulder once the bottles were filled and stoppered until Link returned, no less than sixteen fairies stored away in the Slate, ready to wipe down the cooling cast iron pot and start up on the next elixir?

⚔️👑⚔️

The eyes were staring at her again. They hovered in the air above her. They felt amused, Paya was terrified to say, and she knew they were laughing at her even without any facial expressions to go off of. A million, trillion colors swirled around them, burning into her.

“Yaya.”

Paya couldn’t turn away from the eyes, but she didn’t need to. Her uncle stepped around her, bleeding still from his wounds. His smile was exactly how she remembered.

“Still can’t say your own name?” He asked. Behind him, the eyes swirled, moved with sharp, jerky movements. Flickered violently. “My little Yaya. Chief of the Sheikah, huh?”

Paya shook her head, but she couldn’t focus on him. She felt like she had been put under a magnifying glass, like she was splayed out and on display to those eyes. This wasn’t real, she knew for certain, her uncle was dead. He couldn’t tease her about her stutter or kiss all over her scrunched up face when Dad made him apologize for being mean to her.

Paya tried to disappear into the other place, the world between worlds, but found that she couldn’t. She couldn’t. It didn’t exist. She couldn’t escape there. She couldn’t just leave and get out of this situation.

She was stuck.

She was stuck.

“Poor baby,” Keri Uncle said, and Paya was no longer sure that this was her uncle and not some imitation by the eyes. “Can’t run away this time. I have you now.”

Paya couldn’t even move. She struggled, heart pounding in her chest, fizzling along her limbs and making her shake like a leaf. Her uncle stepped closer, smile twisting and morphing, blood dripping from his mouth.

Which. Was not anatomically correct – Paya had never punctured his lungs –

⚔️👑⚔️

Paya stared at the wooden ceiling.

She blinked a couple times and sat up.

The room they had rented out from the stable was dark, a strip of moonlight shining through the crack between the closed curtains. Paya soaked it all in. The stables weren’t really built for privacy – there was the main, circular room, where guests could and regularly did rent space for the night. Then there were the private rooms, usually at the backs of the stables. They were usually there for the families who actually ran the stables, but a few could be rented out to strangers.

They used to be called apartments, Grandmother said when she explained the concept to Paya years ago. Nowadays, most families stayed in the main room, with the backrooms reserved for mothers and their children or couples who needed privacy. Occasionally for the old or sick and quarantined. Try not to rent those rooms, Paya, someone else will need them more.

The one Zelda got for them had only one bed. The three of them clambered into it after washing up, all of them too exhausted to waste time figuring out the polite way of sleeping. So Paya was on one end of the bed, closer to the window, and Link was next to her, and on his other side was Zelda, curled up against the wall.

She heaved her legs over the side of the bed and paused there. What was she going to do? Where was she going to go?

That nightmare had really been something. Hadn’t she had a similar one recently. . . ?

It didn’t surprise her, seeing her uncle in her nightmares. Not after everything. And they might even get worse! That was a wonderful thing to realize. She was going on a life changing adventure, guarding her friend and princess and queen, maybe getting into a relationship with Link if they ever ended up finding time or privacy enough for it, and Paya was exhausted already.

An arm wrapped around her stomach, warm and heavy. A face pressed against her back.

“Awake,” Link mumbled, breaking the silence.

“Nightmare,” Paya explained.

Link made another couple noises, none of which could be translated into actual words, before he fell still again, breathing slow. Zelda made some sort of questioning noise, half turning, one hand up by her head, the other reaching towards Paya. Her green eyes met Paya’s.

“I’m fine,” Paya assured her, smiling, “go back to sleep.”

Zelda didn’t even respond. Her eyes just slid all the way shut and that was that.

Very abruptly, Paya realized the situation she was in. She was in bed, wearing only her underthings, with her partner wrapped around her waist and her friend who she very much had a crush on on the other side of the bed, looking soft and warm and comfortable, reaching in Paya’s direction. Paya was effectively the only thing standing between these two very attractive people and the outside world.

Oh goddess, Paya mouthed, face burning. She tried not to stiffen up, just in case that somehow woke Link up again.

Very much against her better judgment, Paya slowly turned around. She hadn’t really had the time to uh, to look at them while they were traveling. There was just too much going on. Everything else had melted into the background when confronted by the seventeen million different things they were supposed to be doing at the moment.

Link seemed entirely comfortable cuddled up to Paya like this. His face was smooshed between her – well. Her butt. His face was smooshed between her and the pillows, and Paya just knew that when he woke up he would be covered in lines.

But he looked entirely at peace.

There was no line between his eyes, no tension in his shoulders. His arm was relaxed around her. His face didn’t screw up while asleep, apparently, it was smooth and weightless. His mouth was kinda open, which meant that Paya could feel his breathing where her shirt rode up and shorts rode down. She was really sweaty, and she bet she smelled since she hadn’t had a proper bath, but Link seemed unbothered.

He was even snoring a bit! Paya’s heart melted. It was a very cute snoring, very light and not disruptive, not the way Cado snored (which Paya knew because she and Grandmother stayed over for a while when they were fixing up the ceiling of their house a few years back).

Link in general was very cute. Very hot, very attractive, especially while fighting, but also very, very cute. Pretty, too.

And with her hand half curled on the pillow, only in one of the undershirts she got from Hateno, was Zelda, who looked startlingly normal. Paya had built her up so much in her head, but Zelda really did look beautiful and cute and also pretty much just like any other sleeping person looked.

Paya was amazed.

That Hylia’s daughter was in Paya’s bed with her hair messy and tangling on the pillow. That she was laying prone and easily hurt-able. That her eyebrows were all scrunched up as she focused with all her attention on whatever dream she was having, her pretty pink lips frowning.

It was such a normal expression to have. Paya was going to be amazed by this the rest of her life, or at least that’s what she was beginning to think.

That her childhood hero was real, and in the same bed as her, and was just as heartbreakingly human as Paya was.

Paya bet Zelda got nightmares too.

Though she wondered if she ever saw them about. . . what was it? Eyes in the sky, or something? What a weird dream.

Paya shook her head a little. She needed to relieve herself. She carefully moved Link’s arm, lifting up and off the bed. She stared down at the floor, looking for her shoes and coming up empty. She pulled an annoyed face and moved to step away from the bed.

A hand closed around her wrist and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Link squinted at her, confused and very extremely sleepy.

“I’ll be right back,” Paya whispered, “promise. Stay with Zelda.”

Link nodded once and let go. Paya watched as he rolled over, throwing an arm and a leg over Zelda. She grumbled and turned back towards the wall, but didn’t actually try and squirm away. Paya hid her face in her hands, resisting the urge to scream. She needed to get out of here otherwise she wasn’t going to recover from the absolute cuteness that was happening on the bed.

⚔️👑⚔️

indescribable

the sound he made when the knife

entered his body

though his lips were shut and closed

the cavity gaped below

the scream of the air

the one that escaped my lips

or hid in my head

or echoed through the air when

Paya didn’t bother scratching out the ignoble words – just tore loose the page and fed it to the fire beneath the pot.

⚔️👑⚔️

“Ok, here’s the plan,” Link said as he peered at the Slate. Zelda was holding ot, the map zoomed in on the area between Riverside Stable and Zora’s Domain, so that Link could sign easily. “Today we ride along the river to get to Wetland Stable. We leave the horses there and walk through the wetlands. We take a break on the top of the Lanayru Tower, then continue on to the midpoint of the path up to Zora’s Domain. There’s a pot somewhere here –” he pointed at an area labeled Tabahl Woods “– and try to make it past Oren Bridge the next day. There’s another pot there where we can sleep. After that, we should make it into the Domain by nightfall if we walk all day. There’s a lot of Lizalfos in that area, so we’re going to have to fight our way through.”

“Gotcha,” Zelda said, uncertainly. “And you’re sure we can make it? It’s a long way and you said the fighting will be difficult.”

Paya looked away from the Slate and stared off into the distance, as though she could see Zora’s Domain or even the tower from that distance.

Which.

“Um, I have a problem with the plan,” Paya interjected. They both turned to her. She pointed to the Dueling Peaks.

“What?” Zelda asked. She looked over at them. “I don’t see anything?”

“Aren’t we supposed to see the Dueling Peaks Tower from here?” Paya asked. “We could see it yesterday, right?”

There was a moment of silence.

Then Link and Zelda hurried to mess with the Slate, pressing buttons and changing options.

“Oh no,” Zelda said, sounding horrified, “oh no, no, no. They’re gone. All of them, all the shrines, all the towers – all the warp points, aside from the – Link, how did you get to the fairy fountains yesterday?”

“Warp points,” Link said, “they were there yesterday!”

Paya turned to the Wetland Stable’s counter. “Excuse me? Was there any – I don’t really know. Did anything happen last night?”

“Last night?” The man – Paya hadn’t caught his name – said and stroked his chin. “Yes, there was a brief earthquake, but nothing else that I can think of. The old structure Link keeps appearing at disappeared, too.” He gestured. Paya turned to see the Shrine was gone.

“How did we not notice?” Zelda groaned, putting her face in her hands. Link had taken back the Slate at some point and was furiously tapping away at it.

“Nightmare,” Link said – with his mouth, since his hands were busy.

“Oh! Paya, you had a nightmare last night,” Zelda said, turning to her with shining eyes, “do you remember what it was? Maybe there’s an explanation there.”

“I don’t remember it,” Paya said sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I think I was being watched and my uncle was there – probably less magic and more trauma.”

“Drat,” Zelda said. “Oh, no, I can’t believe this! What is the point of having access to ancient technology if we can’t even use it! I went into this so confident in having a backup plan and yet here we are. I can’t even send one of us back to Hateno because then we’re going to have to wait several days for them to come all the way out here! I can’t believe it. This is what I get, isn’t it.”

Link looked up from the Slate to frown at her.

Zelda sighed, even though he hadn’t said anything. “No, you’re right, I’m just panicking. I – there’s – I was considering using the Slate as a safety net, but now we don’t even have that. At least the Slate itself hasn’t stopped working. We can still store food and use the map.”

“We’re better off with it, even without the teleportation,” Paya said, “we’re just going to have to travel the old fashioned way. Which is basically what we were doing anyway. We’re lucky you made Link go get the fairies yesterday.”

Otherwise there would be no second chances, and time would find them dead in the dirt.

“Very true,” Zelda said, though she lifted a hand to her mouth like she was going to nibble on her nails. Instead she just pressed the curled backs of her fingers to her lips and pressed hard as she looked around. Her words only came out a little muffled. “So. Ok. Worst case scenario, someone gets sent away with the slate to Purah and the other two are just going to have to hold the fort, then?”

Link and Paya exchanged a look. They knew who was getting sent away, though the teleportee in question could never know that.

“Sure,” Paya said, “it’ll probably end up being whoever’s the most injured.”

Zelda nodded. She jerked a little and put her hand by her side in a swift movement – forbidden nervous tick, then. Maybe she did used to bite her nails, and then managed to get herself to stop by instead pressing her fingers into her mouth. Paya wondered if there was any way to ask her about it without embarrassing Zelda.

“If that’s decided, we should get going,” Link said, “I’ll get the horses?”

“You usually do,” Zelda said with a little smile.

Link smiled back and jogged over to where the horses were kept. Paya stepped closer to Zelda.

“It’ll be ok,” she said, “we’ll get to Zora’s Domain just fine.”

Zelda shook her head. “That’s not it. It’s just. We had the Slate a hundred years ago, did you know? You should have seen it – we had so much more technology than we do now. And it’s just – it keeps falling away. One by one. Everything I knew from back then. And yet somehow I have to keep going on. Even my old friends are gone. And the three that are still here are all different. Even Impa! And she promised me she would never change.”

Ah. So it was an overarching problem and not just the Slate.

“I see,” Paya said softly. She looked off to where Link had his forehead pressed to Rupee’s face, stroking along her long cheeks. “I wish I knew what to say to make it better.”

Zelda shook her head. “Just listening to me helps. I know I’m a bit of a broken record, I keep saying the same few things over and over again. But it helps to know that someone cares. I mean, I know Link cares, of course he does, but it’s different for him. He lost everything already and had to rebuild from the ground up. I’m still figuring out just how much is lost.”

“If it helps,” Paya said slowly, “not everything is lost.”

“No, I know,” Zelda said, “it’s already a big deal that so many people survived through truly horrific circumstances, but –”

“That’s not what I meant,” Paya said, “we still have you.”

Zelda looked away.

“Not in a princess way, Zelda, in a mechanic way,” Paya said, “I mean, you’re really good at science and technology, aren’t you?”

Zelda nodded.

“Then not all of that tech is lost for good,” Paya said, “we have you, we have Purah and everyone Purah taught, and we have communication and merchants. All it would take is finding the resources to make more things and then finding a way to distribute it all, right? Building a more cohesive economy as we try and rebuild.”

“I don’t want to be queen,” Zelda said.

“I’m not saying to be queen,” Paya nudged her, which she was pretty sure she stole from Koko. That was how Koko nudged people when they weren’t paying enough attention to her. She wasn’t really sure where Koko learned it from, because Dorian was pretty single minded about keeping his hands to himself. “I’m saying be a – an engineer, or, um, a technological expert. That’s not a queen duty, right?”

“Not according to my father, at least,” Zelda said. She looked down at her hands, then up at the sprawling sky above them. She took a deep breath. “Not according to me, either. No, you make a good point, Paya. What’s the point of knowing all this if I can’t share it? And I did say I wanted to help rebuild, and I do. Maybe this is how I can contribute.”

“Maybe,” Paya said, “but we won’t know until we can actually talk to people.”

“Right,” Zelda said. She faced Paya with a cute little smile. “You’re a very good friend, Paya. Thank you.”

Paya’s cheeks burned. She resisted the urge to scream or maybe run around in circles. “I’m doing my best.”

“That’s all I really ask, thought to tell the truth I’m not asking for anything at all,” Zelda said, “I would just like to have your trust and maybe for you to trust me as well. And if that is not possible then I would be glad just to exist in your vicinity.”

“Of course it’s possible,” Paya said. She reached out and took Zelda’s hands in her own and held them close to her chest – entirely so that Zelda’s eyes were on her, and not all because that would mean she got to hold Zelda’s hands, and that Zelda’s eyes would linger for a second on exactly where Paya was holding them. “I’ve told you. We’re friends. I want to be your friend. I would love to have your trust and your confidence as well, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will,” Zelda said, looking up from their clasped hands. She entwined her fingers with Paya’s and held on just as tightly as Paya was. “I’d like to keep you by my side for as long as possible.”

“Th – then by your side I’ll stay,” Paya promised. It was incredible that Zelda hadn’t said anything just how red Paya was turning. Instead, she smiled at Paya like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

“Thank you,” Zelda said, voice soft. She stepped into Paya’s space – not that she wasn’t already in Paya’s space – and pressed their foreheads together. “I really, really appreciate it, Paya. Truly, you’ve been a wonder.”

From this close, Paya could count Zelda’s eyelashes. Each long, golden strand guarding the soft green of her eyes. Green like grass on a summer’s day, lit gold by whatever rested inside her, clear and open and beautiful. Paya could almost watch the blush spread across her cheeks.

“Th – th – thank you,” was all Paya could bring herself to say. If she tried anymore she knew the words would break apart in her mouth and then what would Zelda think of her?

Zelda hummed and closed her eyes for a second, the gold of her lashes brushing prettily against the tops of her cheeks, and then she stepped back, taking with her her warmth as she retreated back into her own space. Paya folded her hands above her stomach plating and wished desperately for Zelda to come back and hold her hand and stand so close that Paya could feel Zelda’s breath on her skin.

“Come on,” Zelda said with her pretty smile, “let’s see what’s holding our dear hero up.”

Our dear hero – Paya very briefly was possessed by image of what she thought the perfect future would be. One where Link was both of theirs and Paya was Zelda’s as well as Link’s and Zelda loved them in the same way they loved her. One where Paya woke up in the mornings like she did this morning, with each of them with her, and they kissed her good morning and laughed their way through Paya’s attempts to make breakfast and then did their things for the day only to return at night to both of them and their smiles and kisses and hugs and hands in places hands shouldn’t be. One where Zelda looked at Paya the way that Link looked at Paya – and where Paya was allowed to take Zelda’s hands and kiss every finger and knuckle. And where Link could pick Zelda up and spin her around and dip her and kiss her thoroughly and where Zelda could call them any number of nicknames.

And they would be happy and together and happy and together.

“Bet he’s feeding them apples,” Paya said instead of all that, “or got caught up in baby talking Bastard.”

She just contented herself with Zelda’s little giggle as she hurried on ahead.

⚔️👑⚔️

Paya was a little glad when they left the horses at Wetland Stable. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, they were all wonderful creatures. Bastard was Bastard and only listened to Link on a good day. Hanon hated everyone who wasn’t Zelda – Link joked Hanon was genetically predetermined to love Zelda – but if you steered clear of his hind legs was generally a good sport. And then there was Rupee, who apparently was named that because she matched in color to blupees, who had the exact personality of a flower, if that made any sense.

Let it never be said that Paya didn’t adore Rupee, because she thought Rupee was the best horse to ever grace the face of the world.

But Paya was sore. She hurt everywhere and was out like a light at the end of each night. She was tired of the rocking and the occasional clinging to Rupee for her life as Rupee bolted away from danger. She was tired of mounting and dismounting every time the terrain got even a little bit uncertain because she didn’t want Rupee to break a leg or something.

Lovely creature. Lovely animal. About as dangerous as Koko was. Still exhausting to ride for days on end. It had only been a week since they left Hateno.

Walking, Paya quickly found out, was not much better. Their plan to leave the horses at Wetland Stable, instead of riding them up to Foothill Stable or west to Woodland Stable meant that they had to slog through the Lanayru Wetlands on foot instead. Which meant water everywhere, most notably in Paya’s socks, which squished in the most disgusting manner.

It also meant lizalfos. Just so many lizalfos.

“I’m so sick of these things,” Zelda groaned as they finally brought down yet another pack of them. Was pack the right word? Was there a better or more specific one? Like a babble of bokoblins or mess of moblins? Paya had never thought to ask. They didn’t get a lot of lizalfos near Kakariko.

Link didn’t answer, just wiped off his cracked sword on the bottom of his barbarian armor.

Zelda and Paya didn’t have the luxury of having a bunch of armor sets yet. So Link was in his barbarian armor (which showed so much skin that Paya felt a little like she was going to overheat), Zelda was in Link’s salvager armor (which Link affectionately referred to as his fisherman suit), and Paya was in her normal outfit. Tonight she would wash them and tomorrow she would wear her spare set. And if one of them were ruined, she would be in her stealth suit, which would do jack shit to protect her, but would at least be clean. Link and Zelda were just about the same size, so they would be sharing each other’s clothing until they hit the Domain.

“I’m getting the horrible feeling its all lizalfos until we get to the Domain,” Zelda continued, “I can’t remember there being this many a hundred years ago. Mipha would not have stood for it. Did you know, Paya, that she used to go out on raiding parties?”

“She did?” Paya asked, raising her eyebrows. Mipha was Link’s childhood friend, wasn’t she? The Zora Princess?

“She did,” Zelda confirmed, Link nodding along from next to her, “I always used to be so jealous. Look, Father, Mipha’s a princess as well and she gets to make actual decisions for her people and go on hunting parties to rid the Domain of lizalfos! You know what he would always say to me?” Zelda stomped through the bodies of lizalfos, looking for arrows that hadn’t broken that she could salvage, sharpen, and reuse. “Princess Mipha’s a Zora, she’s been on the cusp of maturity for as long as you’ve been alive. Maybe when you’re her age you can go on raiding parities as well. Ugh! He drove me up the wall.”

“That’s not fair at all,” Paya said. She was going through the bodies too, but instead of looking for arrows, she, like Link, was butchering the bodies for valuable parts. Eyes, horns, claws, tails, and guts for elixirs, all safely stored in the Slate to sell or use later.

“It’s not!” Zelda said, throwing her hands up. “How could he tell me for my entire life that he wanted me defeat the Calamity, and then when I asked for a chance to practice, he just told me to go back to praying! It was like he was deaf to reason. I explained to him how many times that I needed combat experience to fight literally the greatest evil we’ve ever known?”

“Too many,” Link said.

Zelda turned all the way around to point at him. “Too many! I hate to – to disparage a dead man, but that was fucked up! I should have been able to go learn to fight from the Zora too!”

“Mipha would have loved to teach you,” Link signed now that Zelda was looking in his direction. “She delighted in being able to pass down her knowledge. Though she would have been a harsh teacher. Out of that whole program, I was the only one to make it through.”

“Program?” Paya asked. She finished up with the last lizalfos and stood to stretch out her sore, sopping wet muscles.

“We sent some young fighters to learn from the Zora, the Zora sent some of their children here to learn from us,” Zelda said, “I blame it for both Link’s relationship with Mipha and the way he fucking booked it there when he realized it was in danger when he woke up, even if he didn’t remember why that was important.”

“Relationship?!” Paya gasped, turning to Link. His cheeks were red and he was rubbing at the back of his head.

“It was – it was a mutual – mutual crush sort of thing,” Link told her, though the words were broken and scattered by him stopping repeatedly to rub his hands together or scratch at some part of him or fidget in some other way. “It never really – never really went – we never –”

“They were into each other but never really ended up confessing,” Zelda translated, rolling her eyes, “which is a shame because Mipha wanted to propose!”

“She wanted to propose?!” Paya gasped, turning to Zelda this time.

Zelda nodded frantically. “She did! Link’s Zora armor has a scale from her. Zora princesses are only allowed to give one in their lifetime.”

“No,” Paya said, bring her hands up to hide her lips – but didn’t touch them, because her hands were covered in smelly lizalfos blood. “Even though they were never together?”

“Mipha said that she didn’t care that she would outlive him by far,” Zelda said, excited to share age old gossip, “that she could only see herself by his side and that she hoped he would accept her affections. And can you believe, the very day she told that to me was the very day that Link swore to me that he would never –”

“Zelda!” Link yelled.

They both jumped, turning to face Link. His eyes were wide and panicky, cheeks redder than Paya had ever seen them, shaking out his hands and teeth bared by his grimace.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Zelda said, the excitement whooshing out of her, “I’ll stop now. I’m sorry. Do you need – what do you need?”

Link just shrugged a little and ducked his head away from her. “Don’t say anything like that anywhere near where a Zora can hear you. The upper class hates me as it is,” he signed with shaking hands.

“Got it,” Zelda said firmly, “but can I whisper it to Paya?”

Link snatched up the nearest lizalfos part and hurled at Zelda with his full strength. Zelda screamed and dove into the water, the gory hunk soaring through the air where she had just been and splashing into the ground a few feet away. Zelda stood, soaking and playfully infuriated.

“How dare you!” She snatched up some lizalfos chunk. She threw it at Link but he just slid out of the way, graceful in a way Zelda hadn’t been. “I can’t believe you would just try to kill me like that!”

“If I wanted to kill you,” Link signed, already recovering from his brief moment of panic, “then you would be dead.”

Zelda made a bunch of offended noises, but there was really no way to argue that – if Link wanted her dead, she would be dead. Simple as.

“You’re so infuriating,” Zelda groaned and stomped off in the general direction of Zora’s Domain, “c’mon, you two, we’re losing daylight!”

“Doing ok?” Paya asked Link.

“You’re ok with it?” He asked shyly. It was strange to see him shy when he generally moved through the world with so much confidence. “The Mipha thing.”

“You loved her. Why wouldn’t I be ok with it?” Paya said, giving him a weird look. “It’s not like I was even alive back then. And besides, I’m sure I would get along with her if she was still here. Anyone you love is bound to be someone amazing.” She smiled at him.

For a long moment, Link stared at her. Examining her for something. Then, with a quick glance at Zelda to make sure her back was still turned, Link stepped forward, took Paya by the jaw, and kissed her. Paya melted into it, eyes falling shut, opening her mouth to let him have his way with her. Link was, and Paya was kind of embarrassed even to think it, so hot. Especially in the barbarian armor, which apparently was enchanted to make his attacks stronger, but was made up of such little actual armor that Paya was wondering why he wore clothes at all.

Link pulled back, panting, eyes burning holes into Paya.

“Good to know,” he said, sounding very out of breath.

Paya licked her lips and tried to ignore that she could still taste his breakfast on her lips. “Cool.”

Link snorted and let go of her face. He jerked his chin towards Zelda and started after her. Paya followed, cupping her hot cheeks in her hands.

“If it helps,” Link signed, walking backwards, “Mipha taught me to kiss.”

Now, Paya wasn’t exactly sure what Mipha looked like. But the idea of someone in Link’s past taking him by the jaw and kissing him the way he had just kissed her made her lose all ability to say real words at all. She made a horrible, aborted noise and looked away as he laughed.

⚔️👑⚔️

They didn’t run into problems until the next night. They were all exhausted. None of them were used to fighting so much – Paya was trained for assassinations and quick take downs, not long extended battles like these ones. Zelda hadn’t recovered enough to be an active force – she had to stay back and up, covering for them with a bow and Link’s neigh unlimited amounts of arrows while they fought to make sure nothing found her and started shooting. Link said he was fine, but his reaction times were slowing down, his movements less fluid and more jerky. Paya didn’t think he was used to fighting with others yet, even with something like a week and a half to adjust. She didn’t think he had adjusted to having to watch two peoples’ backs instead of throwing himself into every battle.

Which meant that at the end of the day, they were all exhausted.

“Zelda gets evening watch,” Link said, “I’ll take midnight, Paya early morning.”

“That’s what we did yesterday,” Zelda sighed, “I can take a later watch, you know. I’m not useless.”

“No,” Paya said, “you’re not. But nighttime is dangerous, so it’s gotta be me or Link. Evening is safer, because we’ve already cleared out everything in the area. If a stalcreature shows up, you can just shoot it to death. But if something worse shows up in the middle of the night, unless you wake us up at every false alarm, we’re all dying unless it’s me or Link on watch.”

Link nodded, looked exhausted but smug.

“However,” Paya continued, “I should probably get midnight instead of morning.”

“That’s when the worst danger is,” Link protested.

“Yes, and I need you to get at least five hours of uninterrupted sleep,” Paya said, pointing at him, “you’re exhausted.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Link, you’re getting morning shift,” Zelda commanded, ending their argument. Link glared at her and got up to grab his two thin blankets. He flopped down and glared at them both before seemingly passing right out. “Huh. Thought he would fight more.”

“I think he’s too tired,” Paya said with another sip of the soup Link had produced from the Slate for dinner.

“Speaking of, you need to sleep now too,” Zelda said, “go on, chop chop. Bed time.”

Paya gave her a disgusted look, which did nothing but make Zelda giggle. She didn’t argue, though, instead just taking out her own sleeping mat and waterproof blankets and spreading them out next to Link. He looked kinda cold, she thought, so when she lay down, she threw half the blanket over him. He didn’t react even a little bit.

The nights in Lanayru were only fine because Paya was used to the chilly nights of Kakariko. The real struggle would begin in Death Mountain, she knew, and then Gerudo would be a whole ‘nother issue.

She was still too tired to really worry about it. Sleep came quickly.

It left just as fast when Zelda shook her awake. Paya extracted herself from Link – who had somehow decided to cling to her in the middle of the night – and switched places with Zelda. Zelda was out in an instant, leaving Paya alone in the dark. The rain had let up, thankfully, so Paya could stare up at the moon and the stars.

She knew herself too well to just stare at them, though. She was going to fall asleep again, so she got up and started moving around. Did little exercises, practiced the basics of her fighting style just to make sure she hadn’t gotten sloppy with exhaustion.

Tried not to think about her uncle.

The squelch of his skin under her knives. The rasp of his breath. How he couldn’t really look at her in the end, instead staring through her to see what laid beyond. To see whatever fate would befall a defected Sheikah. Would Calamity accept him, if the Calamity no longer existed?

It was useless to worry about. Paya couldn’t save him now. She worried anyway.

Somehow, she ended up in a tree close to where Link and Zelda were huddled underneath Paya’s blankets. Link, by the looks of it, had turned away from Zelda, sharing the warmth of her back. His sword was next to him, maybe an inch from his hand. Zelda didn’t keep her bows near her, but Paya could see the curled fingers of one hand along with the top of her golden head.

Around two or three in the morning, Zelda sat bolt upright. Paya eyes snapped to her. She was sweating heavily, her chest heaving, breath coming out in ragged gasps. A nightmare?

Paya was about to jump out of the tree to join her when Zelda turned sharply to look down at Link. There was something wild in her green eyes. Paya frowned and drew her knives silently. She didn’t know what she would do with her knives, but she felt better holding them in her hands.

Link must’ve felt the same way, because his hand was loosely wrapped around his sword’s hilt. Paya hadn’t even seen him grab it. He lay there, breathing unchanged, eyes closed, acting asleep.

If Zelda noticed that he was awake, she didn’t show it. Instead she drew back her right hand, staring down at Link. Her eyes were glowing gold, bathing Link in her light. Paya stiffened. Link’s fingers tightened on the sword. Paya thought Zelda might punch him, but there was – where her fingers drew together, that wasn’t a fist – gold sparked from her finger tips, extending slowly in a straight line –

An arrow, Paya realized, Zelda was somehow manifesting a bow and arrow made of golden light and pointing it at Link. And Link knew, because he was very, very slowly tensing up, waiting for her to strike. Like an animal caught by predator’s gaze. It was a miracle Zelda hadn’t realized he was awake. If she did, she might fire faster, and he would lose whatever precious little chance he had to survive this encounter. Link could kill Zelda easily, they joked earlier, but the reverse, Paya was beginning to realize, was also true. If Zelda wanted Link dead, Link would be dead. Simple as.

Paya could taste the sea, strangely, could smell flowers.

Then it died as Zelda slumped to the side, away from Link. She was still gasping for breath. She shook her head a little, glancing around – looking for Paya? – before laying back down, pretending to sleep. Around them the sounds of the world came back into hearing. Paya hadn’t even realized how silent and still the world had gotten.

Link made a little snorting noise, like he was just waking up and released his sword. He sat up and stretched.

“My turn?” He asked.

“Not even a little,” Paya said, dropping out of her tree, “go back to sleep.”

“Heard something,” Link said with his mouth. With his hands, he said, “was she aiming at me?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Paya said, nodding.

Link frowned, glanced at Zelda without moving his head.

“Though if you wanted to take a quick walk before you go back to sleep, I’ll keep an eye on Zelda,” Paya said.

Link nodded, looking relieved. He shoved to his feet and grabbed his sword again, disappearing into the treeline. Paya watched him go. She settled beside Zelda, sitting cross legged in the dirt, and waited.

“I almost hurt him,” Zelda whispered.

“It was a bad dream,” Paya answered, matching her volume. There was not a doubt in her mind that Link was somewhere within earshot, listening closely to their conversation. She wondered if Zelda would agree with that. “You didn’t hurt him.”

“I almost did,” Zelda said, “and nothing you can say will change that. I almost hurt him. I didn’t even know I had any goddess power left. And I almost used it to. . .”

“But you didn’t use it to hurt him,” Paya answered, “even if you almost did. Remember that. You could have, but you didn’t.”

“I’m scared it will happen again if I sleep,” Zelda said.

“Then I’ll stop it,” Paya said, “I was just over in that tree. I would’ve made it in time if it looked like you were going to shoot.”

Zelda looked up at her with wide, teary eyes. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Paya said and, on a whim, leaned down to kiss Zelda’s forehead. When she straightened up, Zelda’s eyes were closed, even as tears still slide down her cheeks. “Now go to sleep. I need you up and energized in the morning.”

Zelda nodded and rolled over so she could hide her face in her pillows. Link didn’t come back for a half hour or so – when he did, Zelda was already fast asleep, her blonde brows wrinkled, pink lips in a frown. Link hesitated by her side, watching Paya.

“Sleep,” she signed, “and trust me.”

Link nodded and, after staring at Zelda with visible concern, burrowed under the blankets to share in the warmth again. Paya returned to her unhappy post in her tree, uncomfortable enough to stay awake until sunrise. It was risky, of course, to be sleepless in a place such as this. But a Link at full energy levels should be enough to cover for an exhausted Paya who stayed back to guard Zelda’s perch.

Besides, Paya wanted her partner to rest up while he still could. Depending on if they could make it to the Domain tomorrow, life was about to be all polite pleasantries and politics. Neither of which Paya was any good at.

They could deal with this nightmare thing later. When they all had a little more food and sleep in them.

Chapter Text

Paya ended up not needing to switch off with Link later. Which just meant that she chose not to and then later that decision paid off. Which had only really worked out in her favor because they had stopped in Tabahl Woods for use of the pot there. And Tabahl Woods was right next to, apparently, the Bank of Wishes.

Paya wasn’t really sure what the importance of the Bank of Wishes was, but it was close enough that someone monitored it, had seen the smoke from the newly cleared out Tabahl Woods, and sent a black Zora man named Bazz and two more guards besides. And Bazz, may the Goddess shine blessings upon him for the rest of his very long life, had known Link immediately.

“Link!” Bazz gasped.

“Bazz!” Link signed, excitedly. The two embraced. Link was full of energy today, thankfully, which was all that Paya wanted. Even Zelda looked excited and eager instead of haunted like she had been last night. It was just Paya that was tired, subsisting on her few hours earlier that night and a half hour nap she’d just woken from after being scolded by both Link and Zelda. “It’s been so long. Did Sidon send you?”

“He did,” Bazz said, nodding eagerly, “we saw the smoke and came running. The shrine below the throne room disappeared – as soon as we noticed it was missing, Sidon laughed and told us to start preparing, because there was no doubt you would be coming on foot to investigate. And here you are!”

“Here I am!” Link said and laughed. He turned and gestured to Zelda and Paya. “This is Zelda Bospheramus Hyrule –”

“The Princess,” Bazz said, nodding, “I faintly remember you, your majesty, from your time spent with Link. He trained me to fight, you know.” He seemed to puff up a little at his own words.

“I see,” Zelda said, laughing, “I do think I remember you. Head of the Big Bad Bazz Brigade, right?”

Bazz seemed flustered, laughing a little as well. “You do remember!”

“And this is Chief Paya of the Sheikah,” Link said, gesturing to her.

“Suh– suh– sorry I’m suh– so out of suh– sorts,” Paya said, trying not to glare at Link, “I was on watch for muh– muh– most of the night.”

“No, I understand completely,” Bazz said, nodding along with the other two guards, “I’ve had my fair share of those. Come, there are three of you and three of us. This is Gaddison –” he indicated the pale pink guard on one side of him before turning to the dark, purplish Zora – “and Dunma. The three of you have a long ways to go if you return by the path, but luckily all three of us are strong swimmers, though we could never match up to Prince Sidon. We’ll carry you back to the Domain.”

“Will you really?” Zelda asked, looking relieved. “I know it can’t be easy to swim with a passenger.”

“If Prince Sidon could do it mid battle,” Dunma said determinedly, “then we can do it in peacetime. The waters of the Zora River are fast, but I believe we can do it!”

“They wouldn’t’ve sent us out here if they didn’t think we could,” Gaddison pointed out, “don’t worry, Princess Zelda, we’ll get you and yours to the Domain safely.”

“Then you have my sincerest thanks,” Zelda said, regally inclining her head.

“I call dibs on the Princess!” Dunma yelled, throwing a hand into the air. Gaddison immediately gave her an insulted look.

“I’m older,” Gaddison said, “I should carry the Princess. You just be grateful Prince Sidon sent you and not your father.”

Z elda giggled. “Would it be too much to ask for Bazz to carry me? I feel like we need to catch up.”

“What?” Gaddison gasped. “But I was part of the Big Bad Bazz Brigade too!”

“Link tells me that Bazz is the new captain of the guard,” Zelda said, taking a step towards him. “It’s only fair that he gives me an update on the Domain, so that I’m not going in blind.”

“It would be an honor, Princess,” Bazz said, grinning at Gaddison and Dunma’s shocked expressions.

“Dibs on Link!” Gaddison recovered faster than Dunma did.

Dunma grumbled, but came to Paya with a sheepish expression. “Sorry. I don’t mean to imply that you’re an undesirable partner, or something.”

“I travel with living legends,” Paya said, smiling at her. Dunma seemed younger than the other two. Paya thought it was something about her demeanor, even if they all had been acting pretty childish a couple minutes ago. “It’s fine, Dunma.”

The ride was thankfully quick. Paya spent it huddled close to Dunma, her mouth firmly shut, staring around at the silvery architecture in awe. Their Zora companions delivered them to the main portion of the Domain, landing in the center of the largest platform.

And in the center stood the largest person Paya had ever seen. He was bright magenta, clearly a shark of some kind, with sharp teeth and a few scars that only served to make him weirdly attractive.

“Link! My dearest friend!” The Zora yelled, throwing his arms out. This had to be Prince Sidon. “Welcome back to Zora’s Domain! It has been a while since I last saw you, a couple weeks at least. I was so concerned when we discovered the missing shrine, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that you would return to investigate. I have very much been looking forwards to seeing you again.”

“Hi Sidon,” Link said dreamily as he was engulfed in a hug.

P aya needed to reassess this entire relationship, she realized, and if there was anyway for these two to be together, it needed to happen. She’d never seen Link relax entirely like that before. And judging by the way Prince Sidon easily took his weight, it was a normal occurrence.

Strangely, Paya didn’t feel at all jealous. She didn’t even have the excuse of not being alive when this attraction – or whatever it was – formed. Link loved Prince Sidon. Paya loved Link – wouldn’t Prince Sidon make him happy? Who was Paya to decide that she was the only one that Link was allowed to have. She wanted what made Link happy.

How lovely was that? That there were so many people that Link loved and who loved Link in return?

W hen the two parted, Prince Sidon finally focused on Zelda and Paya.

“Hello, little Sidon,” Zelda said, affectionately, “do you remember me?”

“Of course I do, Princess,” Prince Sidon said, just as affectionately, “or should I call you Queen?”

Zelda laughed and opened her arms for him. Prince Sidon swept her up as well, the two of them clinging tightly. Link moseyed on over to Paya’s side.

“Is it ok that –”

“If you don’t kiss him while we’re here, I’m going to be so mad at you,” Paya whispered before Link could finish his question, “I’ve discovered I’m not a very jealous person. Go wild.”

Link beamed at her, though his cheeks were read and his hands were busy rubbing at the back of his head . “He’s really hot.”

“I know, I noticed,” Paya whispered back.

“And really kind and bright and lovely and amazing,” Link continued.

“I’m pretty sure he thinks the exact same thing about you,” Paya said. Prince Sidon lowered Zelda to the floor, the both of them still smiling at each other. “Now shh, we’ll talk about it later.”

“The last time I saw you, you were this small,” Zelda said, gesturing to mid thigh height, “and your tail was so long you still tripped over it!”

Prince Sidon made a noise that could only be a giggle. Link sighed softly at the sound, staring at him with hearts in his eyes. “I did indeed trip on my tail at that age. I do believe I was tripping over it for the next fifty years, at least.”

“Would it be too embarrassing to tell you that I caught you practicing swimming up the waterfall around that time?” Zelda said. “My time in the castle occasionally had lulls enough for me to watch the outside world, and there was this particular attempt to do a triple flip. . .”

“Say no more!” Prince Sidon rushed to interrupt, waving his hands. “I assure you, I’ve mastered the triple flip, there’s no need to bring that up again after all this time.”

“If you’re so sure,” Zelda said, “because I do believe it’s seared into my memory.”

Prince Sidon groaned goodnaturedly. “And just when I thought it all but forgotten.”

“I was lucky to see it,” Zelda said, voice growing soft and sad, “I think Mipha would’ve gotten a kick out of it, if she had been there. She loved you very much.”

Prince Sidon look ed surprised for a second. Then his surprised melted into careful admiration. “I’m glad you were good friends with my sister. I know that she spent a good deal of time talking about you while she was home and not away on some mission or another. It is – and I hate to say it, as I have many wonderful and loving friends – but it is rather lonely to be royalty, is it not? Anyone who my sister held in such high regard is welcome in my company and within my trust.”

“Thank you, Prince Sidon,” Zelda said.

“Please,” Prince Sidon said with a winning smile, “just Sidon is quite alright. You have both the favor of my dear sister and my dearest friend, I refuse to allow you to go around calling me by title.”

“ Then I must insist you return the gesture ,” Zelda said, gentle and just a touch teasingly , “and call me Zelda and not by any other title. Because you also happen to have the favor of one of my dearest friends and of my dear knight. Which ranks you equally high in my own company and trust.”

“What can I do aside from agree?” Prince Sidon said. “You are as lovely as I remember you being, Zelda. I am truly glad that you and Link are still such good friends.”

“As am I,” Zelda said with a little laugh. She turned and held a hand to Paya. “Your sister never had a chance to meet her, but I hope my and Link’s regard is enough for you. This is Chief Paya of the Sheikah.”

“Nuh- nice to meet you, Puh– Puh– Prince Sidon,” Paya managed, tensing up at all of Sidon’s intense golden gaze on her face.

“Our mutual friends’ high regard is good enough for me,” Prince Sidon said, taking Paya’s hands and beaming at her. “You may also address me as Sidon. Though I thought it was Lady Impa who led the Sheikah? Forgive me for my information being so out of date, Chief Paya.”

Oh thank the goddess she didn’t have to call him prince, she didn’t know if her mouth would be able to handle it. “No need for forgiveness, it was a recent um, development. Grandmother just k uh – kuh – kuh – k ind of rushed me out of town and t uh – t old me she retired and that by the time I returned I would be in total control of our people. You’re not out of date at all. Also, just P uh – Puh – Puh – P aya is fine.”

“I see,” Prince Sidon said, nodding, “so the Lady Impa is still alive then? That’s good. I was concerned that she had lived for so long only to die the moment Calamity was vanquished. I’m grateful that she is alright.”

“Thank you for you concern,” Paya said, the pleasantry rote memorized, “and your um, your father, the King? Is he well?”

“He is!” Sidon said and the concern melted off him. “I was supposed to bring you straight to him. I got distracted by seeing old friends – and discovering new ones! Come, let us see my father. I’m sure the three of you have many stories to tell and much information to share. I hope you bring news of the Calamity. We all watched the fight from Ruta’s platform, after the air had cooled from that beam she fired, of course. And by we I mean myself and a few of the guard. My father couldn’t make it to such a wondrous occasion – someone had to stay and watch the Domain, though most of us insisted he could make it.”

“He would’ve loved it,” Link signed as Sidon started up the staircase towards the upper platform, “it was a great fight.”

“It was,” Sidon gushed, “I watched the entire thing. Though I must confess I am looking forward to your explanation anyways. From this distance we could only see broad strokes – from my perspective, the Divine Beast Vah Ruta fired a blinding shot. We rushed to get as close and as high up as we could, in order to peer through the overheated air and into the holes newly created in the castle walls. There were flashes of light through those selfsame holes – cold blue and violent magenta!

“Then the whole sky goes dark! We were shocked and alarmed – if you had failed in your mission, we wouldn’t be able to coax Ruta into firing another shot. She wouldn’t listen to any of us and if you had, Goddess forbid, fallen in the castle? I fear there would be no way to return the ruin and devastation the Calamity had visited upon us during the span of my lifetime. I have only felt this level of terror once in my life, when Vah Ruta took to the reservoir waters with my sister’s body trapped within.

“Before long, the source of the dark was revealed. It was a golden light above the castle, shining with such strength that it cast a shadow on the rest of the world. It rose like a sun of its own – and was followed by a much darker shadow. Calamity, in the plains of greater Hyrule.

“The light followed it and there you were, visible even from this distance, with your golden hair and blue tunic. The cheers that rose from Ruta’s landing were deafening. I don’t believe any of us standing and watching could hold in our delight to see you on horseback. I am unsure where you got it, you never mentioned having it, but you held a glowing bow. I could swear, my courageous friend, that I saw each golden bolt find a place in the Calamity’s body.

“And then – Zelda! I thought it was you above the castle, but you appeared in front of the Calamity and – even with the warning of your light bringing Link out of the castle, I was unprepared for just how bright your attack would be.

“It covered all of Hyrule! I have never seen anything so bright! But to see the Calamity crushed on it, to watch him dashed to pieces against it, I. . .” Sidon paused here, at the entrance of the throne room (don’t even get Paya started on the fish shaped top of the building, she had not had enough sleep for this) to turn and take Zelda’s hands.

“Zelda,” Sidon said, “I must thank you for what you have done to vanquish the Calamity. For a few moments there, I acted in a manner quite unfitting for a prince, so strong was my triumph and gratitude for your strength. I am told the noise I made could be heard throughout the Domain and even in the wetlands below. The answering roar from the Domain shook the mountains.”

Zelda laughed, squeezing his hands in her own. “I’m glad that I was able to make your day a little brighter.”

Sidon laughed as well and turned to Link, releasing Zelda’s fingers to grab Link’s own. “And Link, my dearest, strongest friend. Everything you’ve done. . .”

“Don’t worry about it,” Link said, removing his hands from Sidon’s so he could talk. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“As am I, dear friend,” Sidon said. They gazed into each others’ eyes for a moment. Zelda glanced at Paya, but Paya was a little busy being flustered by their obvious care for each other.

And then the moment was over, the both of them turning away so that Sidon could lead the trio up the final few steps onto a small platform, which stood before –

Well, Paya was going to have to update her own memory. Sidon was not, in fact, the biggest person she had ever seen before. That honor went to the Zora ahead of her.

King Dorephan was so huge that Paya might as well be a speck in front of him. Not only in height, but girth, and the strength of the laugh that shook his heavy shoulders. He smiled down at them. Paya wondered, a little distantly, if Sidon would grow to that size. He was already so big, but his father was truly something else, a mass of deep blue muscle, layered in scars and silver jewelry.

“King Dorephan,” Zelda said, bowing ever so slightly. Link didn’t bow, but Paya copied Zelda in her shallow bow for politeness sake.

Paya was here to support Zelda, but with Link’s introduction of her, she could not pretend she wasn’t here to represent the Sheikah. That was the burden her grandmother had placed on her shoulders alongside the hat that now resided there. What she did and said now would be markers of the next era of the Sheikah. An era Paya hadn’t thought about because why would she? The Sheikah were what Grandmother wanted them to be. Who was Paya if she was the marker of cultural identity amongst her people? What was she supposed to be if she was also supposed to embody the next century of Sheikah life?

“Queen Zelda,” Dorephan said, with a great nod of his own head, “and Link! And you’ve brought a friend.”

“This is Chief Paya of the Sheikah,” Sidon said, sounding almost proud, “though she’s only had a week or so to the position. She tells me her grandmother, the Lady Impa, is doing well.”

“Ah,” Dorephan said, “so the world turns and changes as one grows old. The Zora have always fought beside the Queen and have, as a consequence, enjoyed a friendly relationship with the Sheikah. I hope that may continue.”

“Th- thank you,” Paya said, flustered to be targeted even before Link and Zelda were, “that was my wish as well.”

“If you would be amenable,” King Dorephan continued, “I would like to request an audience with you later, to discuss what changes are to be expected with our relationship with the Sheikah.”

“Of course,” Paya said, ignoring the build of dread inside her, “just let me know when.”

King Dorephan nodded and turned his attention on Link and Zelda. Finally! Paya did her best to fade out of view, taking her spot just behind and to the left of Zelda. “Queen Zelda. Link.”

“Yo,” Link said, waving a hand.

Zelda gave him an annoyed look, which was quickly covered by a politely solemn look. “King Dorephan. Thank you for seeing us.”

“Thank you for coming with such swiftness,” King Dorephan said, “I imagine your century long fight with the Calamity and its subsequent defeat could not have been easy.”

“It was not,” Zelda said. She had her hands clasped in front of her. Paya wondered if King Dorephan had seen the way her grip had tightened. “But with your help, and the assistance of all the races of Hyrule, and Link of course, it has finally come to an end. You have my sincerest gratitude – and my deepest apologies, for what happened to Princess Mipha.”

“It is much appreciated,” King Dorephan said as Sidon shifted uncomfortably beside him, “though there is no need to refer to her so formally. You and her were great friends, even to my biased eyes. I doubt it was easy for you to lose her, either, especially with such an important battle in front of you. One that has persisted almost until this day. It was only two weeks ago that Calamity was finally defeated. We in the Domain have been celebrating for that time.”

“I’m glad,” Zelda said with a smile, much less polite and much more genuine, “I saw the decorations on the way in. Your people deserve whatever happiness they can get.” Paya hadn’t, but she’d been busy being exhausted and entranced by Sidon’s speech.

“As do you,” King Dorephan said. He leaned forward, like a mountain over the surrounding foothills, “the three of you must be tired. It is not an easy journey to come up the path to the Domain, especially when our joy has meant that no one wants to go and fight the lizalfos packs. It will do none of us any good to discuss heavy topics such as politics today. Go – rest, celebrate, and eat your fill. Everything in the Domain remains open to you, should you only ask. Tomorrow, we will take up the mantle of world leaders once more. Today, we will recover.”

“Thank you for you understanding,” Zelda said, her clasped hands relaxing somewhat.

“When my dear son declared you would undoubtedly be on your way, I had your old rooms prepared,” King Dorephan said, “thought I must apologize, Chief Paya, I was not aware you would be coming as well. If you would give us some time, I would prepare you a room as well.”

“Paya can stay with me,” Zelda interjected, before Paya could come up with a response, “I’ve gotten used to sleeping beside someone.”

“Then so it will be,” King Dorephan, “if Chief Paya is amenable?”

“I don’t mind,” Paya said, smiling as reassuringly as she could at Zelda and then to King Dorephan, “thank you for your hospitality, your Majesty.”

“It is the least I could do,” King Dorephan said.

“Great,” Link signed, “let’s get out of here. Sidon, where’s the biggest food table?”

His question raised laughter from those in the room. Zelda caught Paya’s elbow and leaned close as Sidon crossed the room to chatter excitedly with Link.

“You didn’t sleep last night,” Zelda said, quietly, “we’re going directly to my room.”

She steered Paya out of the room, only stopping long enough to take the Slate from Link and assure Sidon they would be able to speak soon. Then she steered Paya out of the throne room and brought her deep into the shining building.

Zora architecture was gorgeous. Paya couldn’t focus, drinking in the silvers and blues and the glow of light filtered through skylights and waterfalls. She was used to a lifetime of Sheikah buildings, with their sloped roofs and simple structures. She couldn’t get enough of soaring roofs and the sound of falling water like bells ringing through the air. The Zora children running through the halls, the adults that offered food and jewelry to Zelda and Paya, all gifts for ending the threat they remembered coming to power, the old Zoras pausing them to speak to Zelda and confuse Paya for an Impa that stopped existing a hundred years ago, all of it was overwhelming.

It took well over three hours to finally make it to Zelda’s room. Everyone knew Zelda on sight and if they knew her, they knew her Sheikah companion, and so they were laden with gifts and foods and unwarranted advice.

Zelda’s room was quiet.

It was a big and airy, with a view of one of the big waterfalls. There was a massive water bed set into the floor, mere feet from a pool. There were low tables everywhere, chests that were open and overflowing with perfumed fabrics and bath supplies. Zelda dumped her load of gifts on one of the tables and gestured for Paya to add hers to one of the other tables.

“I’ll sort them into the Slate later,” Zelda said, voice taking a rare lazy tone. She turned to smile at Paya. “Tired?”

“Very,” Paya said, smiling helplessly back, “I don’t suppose you know where I can bathe before I sleep?”

“Well, that pool’s supposed to be a bed,” Zelda said, gesturing to it, “but I do know where the bathrooms are. The bath is communal, though, so I’ll come with you. I’m looking forward to washing off all this grime! We can eat on the way back, and that should put us close enough to nighttime that we can get away with sleeping?”

“Probably,” Paya said.

Zelda nodded. “I’ll get some clothes. . . we should wear the gifts they gave us, it would improve morale, or something.” She walked over to the chests and poked through the fabrics. “Here, this looks like it’d be too big for me, so it’ll probably fit you. Bring your underthings, though. Come on.”

Paya was far too tired to track where the bathrooms were – but the insides were huge, luxurious, and already had a few visitors. Beautiful Zora women that all smiled when Zelda entered and enfolded her in conversation as Paya cleaned herself off and then slumped in the waters to soak and feel the days of fighting through the mud slough off of her.

When Zelda noticed Paya falling asleep in the corner, she excused herself and woke Paya up, the traitor, and off they were for a quick lunch.

On the way back to the room, Zelda slowed. She grabbed Paya’s arm and dragged her off to the side, eyes wide. Paya followed without question, sleepiness snapping from her frame. She listened for the stillness of an oncoming attack, but couldn’t hear it, just quiet, familiar voices.

Wait.

Paya leaned past Zelda. Next to one of the doors in the hallway was Link, backed against the wall, smiling lazily up at Sidon – which Paya hadn’t realized she would find so hot. One of Link’s hands was on Sidon’s hip, mixing talking with signing to communicate as Sidon leaned down and down and down so that he and Link could share the same air. Paya bit back a gasp and grabbed Zelda’s hand so she could squeeze it and flail as silently as possible. Zelda squeezed back, hard, calling Paya’s eyes back to her. Zelda wasn’t smiling.

Paya dropped her own smile, feeling like she had trespassed somehow. Zelda looked – was that concern?

They waited in that hollow for Link and Sidon to disappear into the room they’d stopped in front of. Only then did Zelda step out and bring Paya to the adjacent room – the one they were supposed to be sharing. The rooms were surprisingly soundproof; magic, Paya assumed.

Zelda sat on a table, frowning and looking at Paya.

Paya raised her eyebrows in silent question.

Zelda sighed and leaned backwards.

“Is this an immediate crisis?” Paya asked, feeling bad.

“Not really,” Zelda said, “I’m just. . . Sidon’s gotta have. . . I mean, Mipha was. . .”

“Oh.”

“They looked happy,” Zelda said. She was being oddly quiet. Normally when Zelda had a thought, nothing short of a monster attack could get her to break her train of thought; and even then, Zelda often talked her way through it too.

“Yes,” Paya said, “I saw them.”

“Yeah,” Zelda said. She was. . . waiting? Maybe?

“I feel like you’re trying to say something and it’s going right over my head,” Paya admitted. She removed her chief's hat and placed it on one of the tables. Other than that, she was in red and white silks, loose and flowing, looking a little like Paya was moving through water with the way they flowed around her. Zelda was in a completely different looking outfit – a beautiful gown, with a slit down the front to reveal the lengths of her bare legs, all in the deep blues and rich golds of the Hyrulean royal family.

“No, I just thought,” Zelda said and stopped. She frowned. “No, I must’ve been wrong.”

“About what?” Paya asked.

Zelda looked a little uncomfortable. “I’m not spying on you.”

“Of course not,” Paya said, “I feel like I would have noticed that.”

“I mean, I guess you are trained in that kind of thing,” Zelda admitted and sighed, “look, I – I never really had a lot of friends, ok? There might be some unspoken accord between friends that I’m missing out on here. So, just let me know if this is out of line, alright? I don’t want to overstep or to make you uncomfortable.”

“I see,” Paya said. She wandered over to the bed and knelt so she could crawl onto it; crawl into it, really, because it was flush to the floor and so full of blankets and pillows and even wolfos furs that Paya sunk into its warmth.

“I really do mean that, Paya,” Zelda said. She stood up, carefully avoiding Paya’s gaze.

“I’m friends with all the rest in Kakariko,” Paya told her, tongue made loose by exhaustion and just how comfortable this bed was. “You kinda have to be, with how few of us there are. Friends make friends uncomfortable sometimes, Zel. The important part is working that out and figuring out what to do so that everyone can feel comfortable and safe again.”

“Oh,” Zelda said in a strange tone. Paya lifted her head to find Zelda staring out at the water, cheeks ever so slightly red, her fingers up by her lips again.

“So,” Paya said, struggling to string together coherent thoughts. Zelda had opted to wear the Zora jewelry she’d been given – silver drew lines around her wrists and neck, dangled from her ears and was woven into her still-wet hair. They sparkled and drew attention to all the delicate parts of her, the pretty, alluring bits that had Paya’s breath growing soft and shallow. “Ask away. Tell away?”

“I was just, well, I’ve been watching,” Zelda said, “and it’s a little hard not to, with how much time we’ve been spending together these last few weeks. And you and Link. . .”

Paya waited for the reveal. For Zelda to say that she had known since she woke up. That there was no reason to hide or conceal it. To say she was upset or disappointed or that she wasn’t comfortable with them anymore. Or worse, that she had recognized Paya’s crush on Zelda, and decided that she was not interested in being anything more than friends with Paya and Link. Paya waited for the rejection.

Instead, Zelda said, “I do believe you have a crush on Link.”

Which. Which was not untrue. Paya did have a crush on Link, a reciprocated crush, even. She had one on Zelda, too.

Paya didn’t know what to say to that.

“But maybe I’ve read it wrong,” Zelda said, “because even though I tried to hide the sight from you, you still saw Link and Sidon. . . having relations. And you didn’t react. If anything, you seemed excited. So maybe I read you wrong.” She still wasn’t looking at Paya.

Paya tried to make her sluggish brain come up with a proper response to this situation. There weren’t a lot of good ones. There were a lot of bad ones. This issue had enough layers that Paya was having trouble figuring out from which direction to approach from, or even identifying from which direction Zelda was approaching it from. Why did Zelda care that Paya’s – no, that was a cruel question. Zelda cared because she was Paya’s friend.

“I uh,” Paya said, deciding that truthful was probably the way to go. Less stress later, trying to figure out the ins and outs of some lie she might come up while half asleep. “I uh, I duh – duh – do have a crush on um, on Link. Since I muh – met him.”

“You didn’t react to him with Sidon,” she repeated.

Paya dropped her face into the plush pillows. “No. D uh – d o I need to?”

“Don’t you?” Zelda asked. She moved – Paya wasn’t looking at her, so she couldn’t see what Zelda was doing, but she heard the rustle of fabric and the soft patter of Zelda’s feet on the tile . A soft thump as the bed sunk next to Paya. She turned her head again to find Zelda laying down amongst the bedding, her head on the pillow next to Paya’s.

“I’m not sure,” Paya said honestly, “but I don’t see the point. I was – you know, there aren’t a lot of us in Kakariko. I don’t particularly care what anyone does, so long as they’re happy. I care about them all a lot. Their happiness is important to me.”

“Even if Link has Sidon instead of you?” Zelda asked.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t have us both,” Paya said, “if he wanted us both.”

Zelda frowned. “My father would never stand for that. I don’t even know how the Zora feel about polyamorous relationships.”

“Is that what it’s called?” Paya asked.

“Yes,” Zelda said, “when a relationship has more than two people, or if the relationship in question forms, not a bridge between two people, but a web amongst any involved. Nebulous and a little undefinable, at least by my measure. I’m an engineer. I like exacts. Absolutes.”

Paya giggled and said indulgently, “do you now?”

“I do,” Zelda said, smile a little wobbly, cheeks growing darker, “it’s easier to process. I’ve never done well with large, confusing prospects. Give me some numbers and a goal, I can do it without issue.”

Paya resisted the urge to stroke one of those round cheeks. “That sounds like you. I don’t mind it, really. If Link likes Sidon, he likes Sidon. I would never dare try to take that from him. They make each other happy, don’t you think?”

“Sidon does often compliment him,” Zelda said, “and Link was really enjoying that hug earlier.”

“So what does it hurt?” Paya said. “If Link wants me, he can have me. I imagine I would also go willingly with Sidon, if he wanted me. He’s very attractive.”

“He is,” Zelda admitted thoughtfully.

“Though I don’t know that it would stick,” Paya said, “he isn’t – I don’t know much about him at the moment. Maybe with time I could love him. But Link I’ve known for years now. He’s no longer some legend to me or some distant, out of reach hero. To me he is just Link.”

“I’m sure he would be glad to hear that,” Zelda said, “he hates being famous just as much as I do.”

“And as much as I will grow to, if we have to keep introducing me as the chief,” Paya said.

“We will,” Zelda said, the world narrowing down to the two of them as she giggled, hiding it ineffectively behind a hand. Zelda and joy were a good pairing, a couple that had Paya’s cheeks burning even as she tugged up the blankets to hide them. “If only to make you as famous as we are.”

Paya shoved her gently, relishing in the laugh that got. “Cruel mistress – spare your lowly servant such suffering!”

“No, I shall not, dear chieftain,” Zelda answered in kind, though the severity of the words were dulled by the laughter bubbling out of her. “I would have you suffer as I suffer and bleed as I bleed – I would have you share in my suffering, if only so you would understand me better. Though I don’t wish to dull your bright color, it is not a suffering I wish to carry alone.”

“Alone,” Paya murmured, “if alone could count the knight at your side, or the royalty we travel to meet. You are surrounded by your peers, my queen.”

“None that will have me as I am,” Zelda said, the laughter petering out. Paya blinked slowly. “Even the knight, though he tries.”

“Then you need only speak your mind,” Paya answered her, feeling a little like she was losing the thread of the conversation. It didn’t feel like they were joking anymore. Zelda watched closely, eyes flickering over Paya’s face. Looking for something; but for what? “And find the listening ears that accompany you. Two from the knight, and two from the chieftain. From your sweet lips, understanding flows to those who care enough to listen. I mark at least two, though the number increases by the day.”

“At least two,” Zelda echoed.

Paya hummed in agreement. It felt like her eyelids were glued shut. She was so tired.

“Are you sure?”

“More sure of this than most things,” Paya mumbled, “you are easy to care for, Zel. Trust in us.”

She was sure Zelda said something in response, but sleep surged to meet Paya at the gates of awareness. She didn’t get to hear what Zelda said. Just knew that it might have been important, and Paya had missed it because she was too busy reaping the rewards of her sleepless night.

⚔️👑⚔️

Paya woke in the early hours of the morning. She dressed in more Zora silks, gathering up her things in her bag. She picked through Zelda’s discarded clothing as well, picking up everything that looked used or worn. She stepped out of the room and quietly closed the door behind her, careful not to wake up Zelda. She turned and paused, eyes wide.

Sidon and Link stood in front of Link’s door, both looking equally as shocked as Paya felt.

“Yo,” Link said, alarm fading into a sweet smile.

“Hi,” Paya said, her heart melting at the sight, “how was your night?”

Link didn’t answer, glancing at Sidon with a knowing look. Sidon grinned at Paya, sheepish and sappy.

“My greatest apologies for stealing your partner for the night,” Sidon said, coming over to rest a hand on Paya’s shoulder (could it be called a hand? Did Zora have different words for their body parts? It had never once occurred to Paya to ask). “Though he assured me that you welcomed my, uh, advances.”

“I do,” Paya said, smiling up at him, “I think you make Link very happy. That’s important to me.”

Sidon beamed, “I do my very best! I assure you that Link’s happiness means much to me as well. I would go to great lengths in order to ensure that happiness, you have my word. Though I must confess, and I have already told this to Link, I am not looking for a permanent relationship – I understand that Link and yourself are too busy to settle in one spot and I am, as it stands, the only surviving member of the Zora royal family – aside from my father, but he may, or, to be clear –”

“I understand,” Paya said, “and I appreciate your letting me know. I’ve heard that there must be a lot of communication in a relationship.”

“That’s very true,” Sidon agreed, “I have had that instilled in me by the elders for as long as I remember. Even my dear sister used to remind me to use a honeyed tongue before resorting to anything more violent than that. I listened to her, of course I did, but I don’t think I truly understood until recently. And of course, it was our dearest Link who taught me! How wonderful it is to be in the company of one so world wise!”

Link shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his head.

“I agree!” Paya said, delighted despite herself. Sidon seemed incredibly easy to like, though she’d only known him a day now. “Truly, Link has been a great boon to our quest, though we have yet to face any real challenges. I imagine that with his and Zelda’s help, there will be no challenge we can’t win against. And Link’s advice so far has proven invaluable.”

“Indeed, that is what I’ve always thought as well,” Sidon said, nodding, “when Link and I had our own adventure, though Link was new again to adventuring, he gave off this constant reassurance. It was difficult to be truly afraid with him at my side, though the entirety of the Domain lay in the balance. I have always been grateful for his assistance and his martial prowess. I have seen evidence with my own eyes that his power has only grown!”

“He is very strong,” Paya said, leaning back against the wall between their doors. Sidon had yet to let go of her shoulder and simply followed the movement instead of letting her slip free. Paya didn’t honestly mind. “We would not have made it so far into the Domain without him. Zelda has yet to recover from her time in the castle and I am still learning the ins and outs of battle myself. His power and experience proved invaluable, even when fighting on little sleep.”

“That was exactly how it was during our struggle to find a way into the Divine Beast – and in the battles we have fought together afterwards,” Sidon said. He finally let go, only to gently take Paya’s burden and place in on the ground so he could clutch her hands in his. Link made some sort of noise, but Paya and Sidon were too focused on each other to really respond. “Dearest Paya, I must thank you immensely for coming to the Domain with him. I confess I was afraid when I mentioned my attraction to our most beloved swordsman, only for him to bring your name up in response. I know Hyrulean culture does not always allow for such generosity in relationships.”

“Sidon,” Paya said, holding his hands tightly, “I have only known you for a day now, and while I did not once feel challenged or alarmed at your clear love for Link, I did wonder how you might interpret the situation. Since our meeting, however, you have been nothing but kind and supportive and an honest blessing to be around. I knew anyone Link loves has to be wonderful, inside and out, and you have done nothing but support that theory.”

“No, no,” Sidon said, a laugh bubbling out of him, “it’s you that has been so kind, despite your obvious nerves. For a moment, I must admit to some uncharitable thoughts about you. My rank and status does not make me any less of a person and I must confess to jealousy at times. I thought that you might not approve of my relationship to our dearest Link. But to be met with such understanding and care – you are correct, anyone Link cares for must be good, and you very much prove that for me as well.”

Paya was touched. “Aww, Sidon!”

“Regardless of what happens in the future,” Sidon said, “know that you are always welcome within the Domain and within whatever influence my place as crown prince of the Zora can afford you.”

“Likewise,” Paya said, sure her eyes were shining with gratitude, “anything that can be given to you by the Sheikah will be yours. Our land is small and our influence wanes, but all that we have is always open to you.”

“Thank you, Paya,” Sidon said, and brought her hands up to kiss the knuckles of each, “it is much appreciated.” He let go and helped her pick her things off the floor. “Would you like me to show you to the laundry room? The recent influx of visitors and tourists after the settling of Vah Ruta had us refurbishing our old laundry rooms that hadn’t been touched since the Calamity. You will find all the amenities and machines necessary to clean and fix your clothing.”

“Yes, please,” Paya said, “though if there are machines, I might need a quick explanation before I can get started.”

“If no one is standing guard within the room, then I will be happy to explain the machines myself,” Sidon said, leading the way down the hall, Paya and a blushing Link trailing after him. “With the return of the Queen, we figured that soon enough there would be trade and travel again in the world. Know that the Zora will ever stand at Zelda’s side, and will spare no expense in providing her aid. We understand that much of the Queendom no longer enjoys the wealth they once had – our coffers have remained full, as we were not hit so thoroughly by Calamity.”

“That’s good to know,” Paya said, filing away the information, “I will be sure to let Zelda know that. Your generosity will be appreciated.” Well, she couldn’t really say it would be rewarded, but appreciated was good enough, wasn’t it? It sounded formal as well.

“As a prince, I thank you,” Sidon said, “but as an individual Zora, I wish to say that you need not rush in a response. We know your struggles, more intimately than the other nations. I especially have grown up watching the war Calamity Ganon waged on the world. A war that I do not believe to be finished. Would you agree?”

“I won’t disagree,” Link signed, finally contributing to the conversation, “but Zelda killed him. If he somehow survived that. . .”

“No, I would not wish that for anything,” Sidon mused, having turned to walk backwards to watch Link speak. “What does Zelda think? She and yourself would know best about such matters.”

“If she believes he will return, she hasn’t said anything,” Link said, Paya nodding along, “though I doubt she would bring it up on her own. The issue is too big – we’ll figure out what we’re doing first, then set about proving that he’s gone for good.”

“For what it’s worth,” Paya said, “my grandmother, the Lady Impa, believes Calamity capable of returning as well. It is among her concerns for the future.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sidon said, “we all have struggled enough against that particular evil. Will you be bringing it up with Zelda?”

“Not now,” Link said, “we don’t have enough information and she’s going to want to investigate.”

“But if you wait until you have enough information, it may be too late,” Sidon said.

“Exactly,” Link signed with a sigh, “damned if we do and damned if we don’t.” Always only bad choices, he’d said as they huddled together last week.

“If we figure anything out, I’m sure we’ll be going around to let everyone know,” Paya said, “so keep your eyes open, but don’t stress too much, I think.”

“Yes, that does appear to be the long and short of it,” Sidon agreed.

He ended up leaving Link and Paya in the washing room – there was indeed a guard there, just outside the room, who showed them how to use the machines that awaited within. Paya was entirely sure the guard had fallen back asleep the second Sidon was out of sight, leaving Link and Paya alone in the room.

“So, how was last night?” Paya asked as they waited for the machines to finish. In the meantime, Paya was taking care of the delicate parts of their clothing, things that couldn’t be thrown into a machine to handle. Not that Paya was sure how these machines washed clothing. She just knew where to put things and which buttons to press. She was sure Zelda could explain them later, if she was really that curious.

“It was so nice,” Link said. His hands were busy helping her wash things, movements quick and practiced. “Sidon is very, uh, generous.”

Paya giggled. She didn’t know much about the private relations that could be had between people, but she did know that particular euphemism.

“I’m a little sore,” Link sighed. He readjusted how he was sitting and gestured to his lower back. “But overall, a very good evening. You?”

“I just slept after Zelda and I got back to our room,” Paya said, “which was, I believe, equally nice but in a different way entirely.”

Link nodded. “Sleeping is always good.”

“Speaking of, we haven’t had any time alone since we left Hateno,” Paya said.

“Want a kiss?” Link asked. He made a kissy face at her. Paya laughed and wished she could take a picture on the Slate. Link was adorable.

“I mean, yes, but later!” Paya said. “We have things to talk about! Like, um, do we tell Zelda? Because she knows I like you, apparently.”

“She does?!” Link said, straightening up. He winced a second later and relaxed back into his earlier position. “I didn’t want to say anything. She’s going through a lot.”

“Yeah,” Paya said. Wasn’t there something else she wanted to talk about? “And after we leave the domain – where are we going? I was thinking Tarrey Town before we head up to Eldin.”

“That makes the most sense,” Link said, nodding. “Kisses now?”

Paya rolled her eyes and gave up trying to be responsible. She abandoned her washing to cozy up in Link’s space. His hands, wet from the water, found her hips, soaking through the silks. Paya was going to worry about ruining the fabric later, but now all she could focus on was Link’s hot breath in her mouth and the slide of his soft lips against hers and the almost ruthless efficiency of how he kissed.

It was the same way he fought, the same way he did just about anything. Link always gave the impression of having done something a million times before.

It was clear he enjoyed kissing her – they shifted from sitting next to each other to Paya’s back on the cold tile flooring, Link kneeling above her, fingers finding every part of her he could reach. Paya touched back, feeling clumsy but otherwise comfortable in her own skin. Link didn’t seem to care that she didn’t know what she was doing. He wiggled his shoulders out of his own shirt – the same Zora silks that Paya was wearing, though the cut was different – and gestured to his neck.

Making out was very fun, Paya decided as she kissed his neck, following his quiet instructions. The room was hot, getting hotter, the tile warming up under her. They didn’t end up taking off any more clothing, but Link’s hands did find their way under her shirt, making her shake even before he did anything with them.

It was the machines that stopped them. They separated, Paya’s skin pleasantly buzzing, out of breath and blushing hard. They retrieved the clothes and placed them into the drier – though it took them a couple minutes to figure out since neither of them remembered the explanation they were given.

It was sorta gratifying to find Link as affected as Paya was.

That for all her lack of practice, Paya could still make Link’s cheeks turn that shade of red, could make focusing on the mundanity of washing clothes difficult, could have this eyes drifting to her before he caught himself. It was also strangely tense. Paya was enjoying it, her heart was fluttering and her stomach was tying itself up in knots, but she also needed to weave the fraying parts of her hat back together and that took a lot of concentration since she wasn’t used to it yet.

“Birlfriend,” Link said as he stitched together a rip on Zelda’s clothes.

“What?” Paya asked, startled.

“Goyfriend,” Link said with some relish before switching back to sign, “doesn’t really sound right. So birlfriend.” He grinned at her, eyes sparkling.

“You want me to call you my birlfriend?” Paya asked, giggling despite herself, the tension draining from the air between them.

Link laughed. “Yes!”

“I see, so you’re my beloved birlfriend,” Paya said, “who I care very much for.”

Link turned away from her, shoulders shaking. He turned back to her after a second, smile so big it covered his face, laughing even as he answered her. “Your favorite birlfriend?”

“My only birlfriend,” Paya said, “at least so far.” The word was a little strange to say, but she was down for it. If that’s what Link wanted, then that’s what Link was getting.

“I was also thinking,” Link said, and his hands moved slowly as his smile faded into something softer, laugh petering out, “something like lovefriend? I’ve heard people use it before. Or something else sappy like that.”

“Birlfriend for casual situations, lovefriend for special occasions?” Paya suggested.

Link nodded, cheeks red and he picked his work back up. Paya nodded to herself. Birlfriend and lovefriend. That worked for her.

⚔️👑⚔️

There was a Sheikah stationed here in the Domain; Paya caught sight of him while Sidon was giving them a tour of the domain, him and Link and Zelda all taking turns telling stories they remembered from each location. Paya excused herself and headed for him. He was an old man, surrounded by what had to be his family. Paya was kind of worried about having to interrupt, but once she was within eyesight, he dropped the conversation he was having and came to her.

“My chief,” Cilla said, bowing to her. He led her to a small alcove, positioned to be able to watch the flow of traffic between areas of the domain without interrupting it. A place where he could still watch over his family.

“Hello, Cilla,” Paya said. Cilla was getting on in years, his face heavily lined and eyes set deep into his head. The bags under his eyes were immense, though he didn’t look sick. Just old and kindly – something about his face didn’t make Paya nervous at all. She smiled as warmly as she could, even though she had never actually met Cilla before. She hadn’t met most of the Sheikah who made up their information network. Or if she had, it had been when she was too young to remember. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Cilla said and smiled back, just as warmly, “I even was able to start a family during my long decades here – two daughters, Leya and Sare, and my son, Antro.” He gestured to the four people standing where he left them. They were watching very closely, though from this distance they wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Congratulations,” Paya said, even though she’d known about his children since Grandmother had her memorize all those dossiers, “I’m happy for you.”

Cilla puffed out his chest, pride overtaking his features. “All three reside within the Domain for now, but Antro and Sare are planning to head home to Kakariko, should you be amenable. I’ve been trying to raise them within the culture, but I imagine they are more Zora than Sheikah at this point.” Paya laughed along with him at the joke. “Leya wishes to stay here and learn from me. She wants to join the information network.”

“I am amenable,” Paya said, “to both requests, though I would like to speak with Leya before I leave. Will Antro and Sare be leaving soon as well?”

“I believe so,” Cilla said, “they just wanted to gain your permission, once we received word that you were coming. I did have one more request, if that’s alright. My wife, Angie, she’s a Hylian. Still, I was hoping that maybe she could accompany my children to Kakariko?”

That was probably Cilla’s true request. Sheikah of all ages were allowed home whenever they wished to return, no matter what quest or mission they had abandoned. Those born outside the village were encouraged to return home, if only to meet their people. Otherwise, they remained out of contact and weren’t included in the village’s headcounts – treated as deep cover operatives. If they couldn’t come home, that meant the situation was too precarious to risk contact outside of an emergency, or so Grandmother described it.

Cilla had no need to ask permission about his children. They were Sheikah. They would be welcomed with open arms. Non Sheikah had to request permission to enter, for security’s sake.

“I trust that you have made all the proper preparations?” Paya asked him, meaning more packing his wife’s things and making sure she had the strength to make the journey. If it was a last second question, that would look bad for him.

“Of course,” Cilla said, nodding, “and I would vouch for her, if I could. My children, as well.”

From a security standpoint, Paya had every right to deny Cilla’s request, for no reason at all. However, Cilla had three children, none of them defectors. He could not have raised them alone – their mother must have taken great and loving care of them.

“Granted,” Paya said, “though I would like to request them to carry a message for me.”

“Anything,” Cilla said, looking relieved, “thank you, Chief Paya. Would you like me to call my children so that you can speak to them directly?”

“Yes, that would be good,” Paya said. She settled on a nearby bench as she waited for him to bring his family, trying to steady herself. Just because Cilla was very gentle didn’t mean his family was. She might get worked up – would her stutter make her less credible as a leader? She didn’t want to think so, but it was what her grandmother had told her so often that it was hard not to worry about it.

Cilla brought all three of his children, though not his wife. He left her where she was sitting, though it seemed like she was the one who insisted he didn’t take her rather than him not inviting her. Cilla escorted his children to Paya.

Not that they were actual children, of course. Cilla was an old man; his children looked to be Paya’s age or older. Antro was visibly the youngest, eyes bright and expression determined. He wasn’t very wide; he looked like a runner over a fighter or farmer. Paya couldn’t tell which between Leya and Sare were older. Both were very pretty, though Leya was tall and stout where Sare was smaller and slower to smile. All three looked at Paya with a mix of wariness and respect.

“Hello,” Paya said, rising to her feet. The three bowed to her, murmuring their own greetings. Paya’s heart was pounding, but she tried to look like she wasn’t out of her mind with nerves. “It’s good to finally meet the three of you.”

“You aren’t angry, or anything?” Antro asked, formalities falling by the wayside. It was a little like how Chideh had been, all those years ago. The thought eased her nerves. “That we’ve never been to Kakariko?”

“Why would I be?” Paya asked, smiling a little at him. He was almost definitely younger than Paya. More brash too, probably. “Aren’t you Sheikah? You’re welcome home whenever you want to be.”

“Papa says Mom’s coming with us,” Sare said, her voice low and melodious, “which you had to approve, didn’t you? I wanted to thank you for allowing her to come.”

“Of course,” Paya said, “though I have a message to Impa that I would like you to carry for me.” Sare and Antro nodded. “The shrines and towers have retreated to wherever they came from. Impa needs to send a message to her sister to see if a short term solution can be implemented. I will be in the Domain for a few days, and Tarrey Town after that if she or Purah come up with anything.”

“That’s it?” Antro asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes,” Paya said, “Impa will understand.”

“I mean, if you’re sure,” Antro said, “it was kinda lacking on details.”

“I’m sure Chief Paya knows what she’s doing,” Sare said, shoving Antro’s shoulder before turning to Paya. “Don’t worry, we’ll deliver the message. Thank you again for allowing Mom to come with us.”

“Ok, now get lost,” Leya said, shooing at them. Antro rolled his eyes but strode off without question, Sare lingering a moment longer before following him. Leya smiled what Paya assumed was her very best smile. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Your father said you wanted to train under him,” Paya said with a glance at Cilla. She flicked her fingers, copying a motion she’d seen her grandmother make many times.

Cilla bowed from his waist and left to rejoin the rest of the family. Paya didn’t like that that worked, but it was convenient, she supposed. Something to worry about later, adding to her long list of issues that she was going to have to think about.

Leya nodded, straightening her shoulders.

“I want you to tell me why,” Paya said. She didn’t know Leya well enough to be able to tell if she was lying, of course, but Leya also wouldn’t know what Paya was listening for. Their unfamiliarity with each other would be in Paya’s favor.

“The others want to live in Kakariko, but Dad doesn’t,” Leya said after a moment, smile a little shy, “and I don’t want him to be alone. And I don’t think I’ll mind being a – being what you need me to be. I’m strong and smart and confident too. I think I could pull it off. I’m not impulsive like Antro or recalcitrant like Sare is. Besides, Dad’s getting old. He’ll need a replacement soon. Best of all worlds, right?”

“In a sense,” Paya said with a slow nod, “and Cilla – why doesn’t he want to return to Kakariko?”

“Well, um, you know about his brother,” Leya said, shifting her weight.

“Tell me from your perspective,” Paya told her. She only knew the basics of the situation.

“My dad and his brother were really close, right?” Leya said, shifting again. “Because my grandparents died so early on. Dad was practically raised by my uncle. But then, my uncle defected to the Yiga and Impa didn’t do anything about it. Dad thought that maybe she would go after him; to kill him or to bring him home. But she didn’t do anything. Y’know, I don’t think Dad ever told my siblings. They didn’t react to Impa’s name.”

Paya hummed, lowering her eyes. Cilla didn’t want to return to Kakariko because Grandmother hadn’t done anything about the Yiga. Paya had similar complaints against her grandmother, but she also knew that sometimes there wasn’t anything that could be done.

“If I could,” Leya continued, “may I ask a question?”

Paya nodded.

“What will you do about the Yiga?” Leya asked. “Now that we don’t live under Impa anymore, there’s the opportunity to do something. Change something. Make a difference, you know?”

Paya didn’t have an answer to that, just the itch of blood seeping into the skin of her palms. Her uncle’s body, stripped and washed, floating on an impromptu raft downriver, wrapped in one of Paya’s thin blankets. The only funeral Paya had the resources or the energy or the know how to give.

“What decision would you make, in my place?” Paya asked her.

Leya hesitated. “What do you want me to say?”

“Your truth,” Paya said. She looked up to find Leya avoiding her gaze, head turned. Paya followed it, finding Cilla waiting with his arm around his wife. Her hair was silver and fell down to her waist. They were laughing together, egged on by a delighted looking Antro and a reserved Sare. “Whichever way that truth falls.”

“. . . I want them dead,” Leya said, voice wavering and smile gone. She frowned out at her family, something dark lurking in her eyes. “Dead and gone. I want Dad to be able to rest knowing his brother has passed on.”

“Would you do that?” Paya asked. She was morbidly curious. Leya was similar to Paya, wasn’t she? “With your own hands?”

Leya looked back at her, head tilted and brows furrowed.

“If you want to kill them all, you must be able to kill your uncle with your own hands,” Paya told her, resisted the urge to let anything shine through her face or demeanor. “Is that something you think you can do? Look your father in the eyes and tell him that your uncle is dead and that you did it?”

Leya stared. She slowly shook her head. “No. No, I’m not. . . I couldn’t do that. I’m sorry.”

Abruptly, Paya felt old. She was sure she was younger than Leya and she definitely didn’t have as much experience out in the real world, but she felt like she had aged a hundred years, hearing that answer. Was it the correct one? Paya knew she could kill her own family. She already had. She may yet have to again, in Zelda’s name, or in Link’s, or even, horrifically, her own. Despite the similarities between them, Leya knew she could not.

Or rather, the situation had not changed so that she would have to.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Paya said, looking down again at her own hands. She liked Leya, for her honesty if nothing else. “Thank you for your answers. I think you will be fine training here with your father. But remember, your job here is not to act. It is to observe. Sheikah don’t act until we know all the facts, Leya.”

“Of course,” Leya said, ducking her head. There was something horrible about her expression. Paya didn’t know how to fix it; there was no Journal of Various Worries to consult. She hadn’t grown up with Leya, didn’t know how her brain worked. “Thank you for your wisdom, Chief Paya.”

“Thank you for speaking with me,” Paya answered. Leya bowed once more and fled to her family’s arms. Paya watched Leya force a smile, watched her parents beam with pride as they ruffled her hair and talked animatedly.

She left them to it, eager to return to people she didn’t have to be on edge around.

Chapter Text

King Dorephan called Paya up for breakfast the next day. Paya, Zelda, and Link all stood in the room Zelda and Paya were sharing, gathered around the copious amounts of clothing, struggling to get their story straight before Paya headed into whatever political nightmare awaited her.

“I’ll be honest,” Zelda said, words tumbling out of her mouth as fast as physically possible, “and I don’t mean this in a particularly distressed manner, not when I know the both of you will jump to my defense without prompting. So, Paya, don’t go in already stressed about this. But I was very much shaken by my argument with Impa – I don’t want to be queen and I can’t stress enough that I doubt a queen would be of any help in this scenario. However, I don’t know that we should tell people definitively one way or another before we know for sure what the plan is.”

“See, I agree with that,” Paya said, “and I know where you’re coming from, but if we don’t tell King Dorephan that we don’t intend to take the throne and then we don’t later, that feels a little like we’re betraying his trust. Like we implied to set up something with him only to back out later.”

“He’s kinder than that,” Link said, “but I don’t know him in a king context, I know him mainly as Sidon and Mipha’s dad. There isn’t time to be king when you’re focused on keeping people alive.”

Zelda pointed at him. “Exactly. There’s no time for the politics and the formalities and all that nonsense. I said I would like to help rebuild but I cannot be acting in a royal capacity. I can probably do more good as a private citizen – I have done more good as a private citizen rather than as royalty!”

“Can you even be classified as a private citizen?” Link asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure that I can,” Zelda said, rubbing at her chin thoughtfully, “I am only what I am because I am royalty. A private citizen wouldn’t have the power of Hylia because Her bloodline only runs through royal women – though it was that selfsame power that saved Hyrule, with no abilities of the Crown. Though I assume that there were non-royal women who have carried her blood. Hyrule has existed for far too long for that to not be the case. Maybe that has contributed to the common magic amongst the people of Hyrule, have you noticed it? It’s clear in things like elixirs, which need magic to be made and yet can be created by even the smallest child. Or the ability to see dragons and other such magical creatures, even if most aren’t magical enough to see the koroks or blupees.”

“We’re getting off topic, do I tell him that you’re not the queen or not?” Paya asked. She reached for her Sheikah clothing instead of the Zora silks she had been wearing.

“If it’s possible to talk around the issue, then talk around the issue,” Zelda said, rerouting her thought process with only a little bit of a frown, “but hopefully his insistence on speaking to you alone means that he doesn’t want to speak about Hyrule, but instead about the Sheikah. I mean, if he wanted to speak about Hyrule, he would have invited all of us to speak to him together – the three of us make for an intense diplomatic party, but it would have been better to cover all bases at once. And I’m not sure what issues he would want to speak about with the Sheikah, I mean, you’ve been secluded from most of the world for thousands of years.”

“I can think of a few things,” Paya said, heart sinking with dread, “and none of them are fun or harmless. Zelda, I don’t suppose you remember going on any diplomatic missions?”

“They were all so regimented that I don’t believe they would help here,” Zelda said with a little shake of her head, “even my visits to the Domain to request Princess Mipha’s help were heavily structured.”

“The long and short of it is,” Link said, “that Zelda and I will back you up, regardless of what happens, so just keep your cool.”

“Right,” Zelda said, nodding, “figure out your priorities and worry about us later.”

“Will do,” Paya said, feeling sick to her stomach.

After changing and freshening up her makeup, Paya was led to what looked like a private eating chamber. King Dorephan sat half submerged in a great pool that might have been made specifically for him. The water came up to his chest – on the ground in front of him were several piles of fish, each in its own basket. Paya couldn’t see any utensils.

Sharing his pool was Sidon, who looked sleepy. He kept yawning as he stole fishes from his father’s serving, eating each in only a couple bites. He wasn’t wearing any of his usual regalia, looking weirdly small without his silver jewelry or tridents. The only thing he wore was the whistle hanging from his neck, and even then that served to make him look even more naked somehow.

Paya’s own spot was in front of them both, the only person seated at a low table. She’d been given five fish along with different sides to eat it with; sauces, vegetables, rice, so on and so forth. At least the fish had been cooked beforehand and utensils had been provided for her.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Paya said.

Sidon gave her a thumbs up and a big grin, though it was interrupted by another massive yawn.

“Thank you for coming,” King Dorephan said. He scooped up one of the baskets and ate a third of the fist in one bite. Paya took that as her indication to eat. She took a bit from one of the first, found that it was grilled but otherwise unseasoned. She set about separating the meat from the bones. “My little prince, you will need to finish your breakfast elsewhere. I have important matters to speak to Chief Paya about.”

“Aren’t I your heir?” Sidon said, voice wavering; not in an emotional way, Paya thought, but because he was genuinely still sleepy. She hid a smile as he continued. “I should know how the Domain makes deals with the surrounding sovereign nations, shouldn’t I? How can I do that without being in the room while you deal with the new chief of the Sheikah? There will come a moment in the future where I will have to make similar arrangements, is there not?”

“There’s no need to disguise your intentions, my little prince,” King Dorephan said fondly, “I know you only want to keep your new friend company.”

Sidon laughed and rubbed at the back of his head in a startlingly Link-like movement. It warmed Paya to see it. They really were close, weren’t they?

“Go on, you have other duties to attend to,” King Dorephan said, gently patting his son’s head with one massive hand. “There will be much time later for you to learn the ways of ruling the Domain. Diplomacy cannot be learned in a single meeting between rulers. I imagine that in the coming weeks and months, you will have your hands full with it as Hyrule recovers. But for now, allow me to spoil my dear son a few years more.”

“If I must,” Sidon said with a sigh, grabbing his father’s hand. He pulled it down and gave it a hug, presumably because he couldn’t actually fit his arms around his father’s stomach. Then he heaved himself from the pool, stretching his arms above his head. Then, with a bow to his father and a big, sparkling, sharp-tooth smile at Paya, he made his way from the room, yawning again.

“My apologizes for denying you a companion for this meeting,” King Dorephan said.

“Nuh – no, it’s fine,” Paya said, “what did you nuh – need me to talk to you about?”

“Mostly, I wished to talk about the future,” King Dorephan said, “to talk about your plans as well as establishing trade between your people and mine. As you are the newest chief of the Sheikah, I imagine you have many ideas for the future of your people. If it was possible, I wanted to know how that would influence Zora’s Domain, as we are your closest neighbors.”

Paya didn’t really have any ideas for the future. Not yet.

She had been given no pointers by her Grandmother and had no idea of what issues to address, aside from the Yiga Clan. And even then, she didn’t know what she was doing.

“I, uh, I’m nuh – nuh – not really sure,” Paya said. Curse this fucking stammer. But there was no way to make the king of the Zora a less intimidating conversation partner. With Sidon here, at least, she could have pretended it was fine. She liked Sidon. “If I’m guh – gonna make a plan, I nuh – need to know what the uh, the issues are.”

“I see,” King Dorephan said, taking another massive bite of fish. Paya poured out a little of the sauces on her plate to try one by one. “Which is why you’re traveling with the Queen and Link.”

“Yes,” Paya said, relieved that he had understood, “the biggest at the moment is um, is the, the Yiga.”

“Yes, that was what I was going to be asking about next,” King Dorephan said with a mighty nod, “though they haven’t been much of a problem within the Domain proper, they do occasionally come to poke around the Lanayru and Zorana ranges. We force them out when we can, of course, but we can’t guarantee that we’ve been able to properly keep them out. I don’t suppose you have any solutions for that yet?”

“Once I do, I’ll let you know,” Paya said. She really liked the spicy sauce they’d offered, so she put more of that on her plate to eat the fish meat with. Maybe she should tell Link about these sauces, maybe he’d be able to teach her how to make them. They’d been so busy fighting and then enjoying the Domain that she hadn’t gotten another cooking lesson recently. “I’m sorry, I duh – duh – don’t have any answers right now.”

“That’s quite alright,” King Dorephan said, “it’s recorded in our histories that the Sheikah have always enjoyed a working relationship with the Zora, though we have not always seen eye to eye. Our Domain has been allied with the monarchy. I understand it is slightly different for the Sheikah?”

“We follow Zelda,” Paya said as King Dorephan took her response as an opportunity to have another few massive mouthfuls of fish. “And the Goddess Hylia. No one else. Though, alliances are a different thing, though. If you had any needs that the Sheikah could look into, I’m sure we could uh, cuh – could work something out.”

“Yes, we may yet need your support going forward,” King Dorephan said, “your predecessor, Lady Impa, was very. . . isolationist. And very hands off as a leader as well. It did her well during the Calamity, but now that it is defeated, I’m glad that you have taken the initiative to do some legwork.”

“Isolation kuh – kuh – kept us alive,” Paya said, “but I ag – agree. The time has puh – passed for staying apart. We need tuh – to work tuh – together.”

“For Hyrule’s sake,” King Dorephan agreed, “if nothing else. One more question, before we move on to untangling the web of trading and economics. I have heard your appointment to your position was sudden. I plan on relinquishing the Domain to my son in a similar way, once I have been able to arrange for his marriage. Do you think that to drop the news on him suddenly would be good? Or do you believe I should work him up to it?”

Parenting advice?

Some of Paya’s nerves faded away. It seemed like King Dorephan was like any other adult in Kakariko – he just wanted to do what was best for his son. Paya smiled up at him, though she didn’t really have a concrete answer for him, either.

“I feel like I shouldn’t recommend it,” Paya said, a little shyly, “it was, um, it was difficult for me. But at least it was fuh – fast. Sidon seems like the sort to brood, according to what Link has tuh – told me and from what I’ve seen.”

“He is, my poor boy,” King Dorephan said with a sigh, “every night for the last century, he would spend several hours at Mipha’s statue, consulting with her ghost. He only stopped after he and Link put her to rest.”

Paya nodded. “It seems like if you set a date and told him beforehand, he might spend the time brooding over it.”

“Yes, he would,” King Dorephan said, “which then would bring down the mood of the entire Domain – I’ve always been grateful for how well loved he is by the people, though I imagine it has caused no small amount of issues for him. So I will simply have to wait for an opportune moment before springing it on him. Thank you, Paya, I know that question was very personal.”

“I’m glad to help,” Paya said, “Sidon has been very good to me since my arrival. It’s an honor to be able to uh, to weigh in where I can. I’m sure I’ll have a better answer for you, if you would give me but a few weeks.”

“It is an honor to be able to receive such an answer,” King Dorephan said. He smiled down at Paya. “And I eagerly await for your updated advice. For now, we have a less enjoyable subject manner. What are the Sheikah’s exports and what do you most need?”

⚔️👑⚔️

“The lynel is really gone for good, huh?” Link asked, staring around the mountain top. They were near the top of the tallest mountain of the Domain, on a small plateau that smelled very much of lynels. Paya hadn’t realized there was a specific lynel scent until she arrived here. It smelled like their horses mixed with wet dog, a distinctly meaty animal scent that she didn’t really like. “I’ve been worried. I won’t be able to come and kill it all the time, now that the shrines are gone. At least the blood moons won’t resurrect it.”

Zelda scoffed from over where she was investigating the lynel tracks in a corner. “The blood moons. I hated those things.”

“How did they feel on your end?” Link asked.

“Bad,” Zelda said. Paya giggled as she wandered towards the edge of the cliffs. “On one hand, the blood moons were handy – they gave me a few minutes extra to prepare myself as Ganon turned his attentions on the world outside. It wasn’t often that he had to turn away. Most of my respite was because the waning of his power; no one can put out the same amount of power eternally, not even myself. But the blood moon happened when Ganon figured he was losing too much ground too quickly, both inside and outside the castle. So a blood moon meant that Link and I were making progress. But it also meant that I had failed yet again in protecting Link from Ganon’s power. I was supposed to have kept Ganon’s power from him, and yet here he was, exerting his power over the world again. Despite my best efforts.”

“They were just annoying,” Link said, “at least for me. Paya?”

“That’s just how it was for my whole life,” Paya said, getting both of their attention at once, “I didn’t even know it was possible to not have blood moons at all until Grandmother told me when I was, what, thirteen? Fourteen?”

“Really?” Zelda said. She stood and came over to stand next to Paya. “They were so terrible, though.”

“Intimidating, sure,” Paya said, “but they also mark when we needed to send out patrols to clear the area. It also allowed us to gain monster parts that we could sell or make into elixirs. If we stored the parts properly, then later in the month, when parts were a little harder to find, we could sell them for more rupees.”

“I see,” Zelda said, nodding, “you treated it as a natural phenomenon and integrated it into your everyday life. That’s smart. Actually, that makes me feel a little better about it. You’re saying that, despite how scary it was, it still was a boon when things went well. It’s better than how I was imagining it, anyhow. I thought it was something like – maybe that all of you saw the blood moon and were put in extreme danger because of it.”

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” Paya said, “plus, it’s been a hundred years. We know where the monsters in our areas live. It’s only dangerous if you’re in a monster camp when they return.”

“Same here,” Link signed, though he didn’t move any closer to them, still lingering in the center of the plateau. “It wasn’t dangerous for me so long as I wasn’t in the middle of battle. And the few times that happened, I fought my way out. Or I was able to teleport away.”

Zelda beamed at the both of them. “Thank you. I know it was a bit of a silly insecurity.”

“No, I understand,” Paya said, “but the important thing is that you didn’t fail in the end! I now get to face a world where I don’t get a monthly reminder to go out and kill monsters. Which, I think makes life a little bit harder now, because the monsters will be acting less predictably.”

“My deepest apologies,” Zelda said, “that the saving of the world means that your life is less predictable.”

“I humbly accept your apologies,” Paya said, with a fancy, flourishing bow to make her friends laugh.

“I also feel a little bad, though,” Zelda said and sighed heavily, “again, here I am, caring only about Link, when there was a whole world I didn’t pay attention to.”

“I like you worrying over me,” Link said, finally wandering over. “It makes it more fun to tease you.”

Zelda gave him a disgusted look as he laughed . “I’m serious, Link.”

“I don’t think it’s that weird?” Paya said. “It’s like. . . and this is a horrible analogy, I know. But when I was a kid, one of my friends and I got trapped a little outside of the village. We weren’t supposed to be out of the village, but Chideh was just kinda like that. It was terrifying to be outside at night, but I was only really keeping it together because he was with me. I didn’t want to think about how worried Grandmother would be or about any of our agemates, because thinking about them was making me cry. But if I just thought about Chideh , I could get through it, because he was more scared than I was.”

“Let me have one insecurity, Paya,” Zelda said, expression melting into another smile, “just one, please.”

“Absolutely not,” Paya said, grinning at her. “I am here to provide rational views. You are not allowed to be sad in my company. And for the record, the same goes for you, Link.”

Her birlfriend rolled his eyes. “I have no insecurities.”

“Liar,” Zelda said, pointing at him, “I’ll get to the bottom of you, yet. And then I’m siccing Paya on you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Link said and turned away, nose in the air like some sort of stuck up noble, making the both of them giggle. He had to turn back around after a couple seconds to keep signing. “You can pry my secrets out of my cold dead hands.”

“I think if I apply Paya in a few specific ways, I can sidestep killing you entirely,” Zelda joked, “and get right to the prying.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a good investigation partner,” Paya said, smiling as sweetly as she could, “it’ll be fun to have another go after so long.”

Link glanced around, taking in his surroundings as though preparing for a fight. “You wouldn’t be able to get anything off of me.”

“I’m sure I could,” Paya assured him, still smiling. She had never been able to pull off the physically intimidating thing in practice; she was too unassuming and stuttered too much. But being cloyingly sweet had yet to fail her, when it came to intimidation.

Link took a slow step back.

Paya took one forward, keeping the distance between them the same.

“Don’t think I’m afraid of simply siccing her on you,” Zelda said.

“You good?” Paya signed.

Link inclined his head to Paya, not really a nod, but confirmation enough. She knew him well enough to see the smile in the way he masked his expression.

“Paya,” Zelda ordered, sweeping a hand up to point at Link, “get him!”

Paya didn’t bother with running; she knew she wasn’t faster than Link could be. She stepped into the other world, searching for where she thought Link would start going. Did she need weapons? It might be prudent to keep them on her, just in case Link grabbed for a sword. She slipped two knives from her belt and stepped back into the world.

It was good she had the knives – they deflected the blade aimed at her head. She gasped and disappeared again. She had only been in the world long enough to glimpse Link’s big grin and the way his eyes almost seemed to grow in the morning light.

Another place, another angle. She’d grown used to his fighting style over the past couple weeks. She appeared behind him, catching him mid turn, closer than expected. That was fine. She aimed for his neck, but Link dodged.

Paya surged forwards instead of backing up. That kept her out of his sword’s reach.

Or it would have, if Link wasn’t a proficient fighter. He flipped backwards, drawing his bow, movements speeding as he fired repeatedly. Paya cursed and jumped into a roll. She slipped through the world of nothings.

Where would he land? Which way would he be facing? Where would his sword be?

Paya ended up in the air, a few feet above Link’s head. His eyes snapped to her, and they were definitely glowing.

She didn’t know his eyes could do that. It wasn’t like the gold that had sparked from Zelda’s fingers in the middle of the night. It was a cold blue, just a few shades off from the color of his eyes. Unnoticeable if she wasn’t watching for the movement of his eyes.

Paya dropped on top of him, but ended up landing on his sword. His stance widened, one of her shoes on his cross guard, the steel toe of the other near the tip. He only sank an inch or two under her weight, which was unfairly hot of him. She watched the glow go out, back to the normal soft blue, before she flipped off and landed back in the other world.

Why did Link’s eyes glow? Did he know they were glowing?

Again, as soon as she re-entered the world, Link’s eyes found her almost immediately. Paya backed off when the exchange finished instead of teleporting. Link watched her, smiling.

“You can sense me, can’t you?” Paya said. “Somehow.”

Link shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Zelda asked. She’d returned to studying the Lynel tracks as Link and Paya were distracted.

“Every time I try and do anything, Link looks at me immediately,” Paya said, trying not to pout, “I noticed it for the first time when, um, when my uncle, uh, wuh – wuh – wuh – when my uncle tuh – tuh – tried tuh – tuh –” Paya gave up and finished using her hands. “I noticed it when my uncle tried to attack us. Link could tell there was an attack coming before I did, and I’ve had training to sense it.”

“I get attacked by the Yiga a lot,” Link said with a shrug, sheathing his sword so he could sign properly, “it’s the same magic. It feels the same.”

“That’s interesting,” Zelda said, looking between Link and the tracks. Paya held back a laugh at her clear indecision between investigating Link or the tracks. “I don’t suppose the two of you mind doing some demonstrations for me? But first, explain what exactly you mean by sense and feel? How do you sense it? How do you feel it? I want as much information as you have to give.”

She left behind the tracks and came over to steal the Sheikah Slate from Link, tapping around on it. Paya walked to her, peering over her shoulder to look down at the blank lines on the Slate. A notepad, of sorts?

“Yeah, alright,” Link said, looking over at Paya, “I don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Paya said.

“Great!” Zelda said with a big grin. “Let’s get started.”

The demonstrations took a few hours. Link was particularly resistant to explaining himself, but in the end he didn’t protest all that much. After maybe a half hour of talking, Zelda backed up and demanded they go back to sparring. That was better for them; Link clearly loved fighting and Paya would never turn down the chance to train with him.

Maybe in another life, Zelda might have faded into the background as Link and Paya fought. Maybe Paya would lose track of the outside world as her attention shifted to staying a step ahead of her birlfriend.

But thing was that Zelda didn’t fade into the background.

Link fought partially angled towards Zelda, giving her a clear view of what he was doing and, after a few minutes trying to adjust, Paya found herself shifting to match. It made her more predictable, made her landing points fewer when she was teleporting, but in exchange, Zelda’s voice rang through the air more frequently, telling her to move, asking them to try specific things.

And instead of being irritated at being bossed around, like Paya always was while training back home, the instructions didn’t grate against her. She accepted them easily and moved to follow without question. Link did the same, sometimes even anticipating an order before it finished leaving Zelda’s lips. It was like fighting as a part of a particularly well made machine – like being a turning part within the washing machines in Zora’s Domain or as a part of Purah Auntie’s great telescope. Zelda had a suggestion to make – Link and Paya implemented it at the same time, and the battle shifted and twisted and turned as they covered the surface of the plateau, but never once did it drift away from Zelda.

There was, Paya thought, some sort of poetry in that. She wasn’t entirely sure how to say it in words. It would cost many pages of her journal to figure it out. But the poetry was there, even if it couldn’t be expressed.

When Zelda drew them to a stop, the sun was low in the sky and Paya was aching all over, covered in cuts and bruises. Link was better off, as always, but his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat and there was dirt smeared in uncomfortable places. It all just served to make him look hotter than usual. Zelda was untouched, the mess of battle neatly kept away from her by Link and Paya’s diligence, pouring over the notes she had been taking.

“It does seem like Link can sense you,” Zelda said after a few minutes, after she’d taken cooling drinks from the slate and passed them around. “But that could yet be contributed to his proficiency in battle. . . let’s go for a little longer. This time, Link, I want you blindfolded.”

Paya winced, but Link allowed Zelda to blindfold him without protest. Paya took his hands and led him to the center of the plateau.

“Ok, birlfriend,” Paya said softly, with her back to Zelda so she couldn’t read her lips.

Link smiled, cheeks going a little red. “You can’t distract me with that,” he said, equally quiet.

“I tried,” Paya said, shrugging, “I’ll let you know if you’re gonna hit something.”

“Say dragon to stop,” Link said.

Paya giggled and stored the information in the back of her head. “Was that what you and Sidon used?”

Link laughed as he drew his sword. He didn’t answer, but he kept smiling as Zelda gestured for Paya to go. Paya was sure that Link heard her disappear – the sound was quiet, but probably loud in the still evening air.

She approached from the back and side, popping back into existence already swinging her knives. Link was mid block already, jumping away. Paya disappeared again, came up on his other side. Link struck out. Paya didn’t need to block – he was off by about six inches. She got him in the cheek. Link reeled, sidestepping and swinging again as Paya walked again between worlds.

When she appeared behind him, Link’s head was already facing her, the rest of his body following.

She panicked.

Magic was supposed to ensure her mark wasn’t looking directly at her when she came back into the world. To come out and find that Link was already looking was terrifying, especially with the cloth tied around his eyes. Especially with the blue glow shining clearly through it.

When she emerged, stumbling, she was mid air directly above him. Link didn’t look up, but he dived into a roll and came up facing her, eyes still visible through the blindfold. Paya let herself glance at Zelda, finding fascination written clearly on her expression.

“Ok!” Zelda called and Link lowered his sword.

Paya reached out to tug off the cloth. Link didn’t flinch at the sudden motion, cold blue eyes finding Paya’s. He blinked, the glow disappearing, and smiled, soft and warm and handsome, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head just a touch.

“Link!” Zelda gasped as she made it to them, waving the Slate. “Look at this.”

She turned the Slate so it faced them both. On the screen was a still image of Paya and Link. Paya’s back was visible, but the focus was on Link, standing in the center of the frame.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Zelda said, “Paya was right.”

Link took the Slate with one hand, the other brushing fingers under one eye. Paya stared at him in the picture, seeing physical evidence of what she thought she had been imagining.

“That’s never happened before, right?” Zelda said. “At least, not in my memory. Paya, has this been the only time you’ve seen his eyes do that?”

“Only today,” Paya said, “but it’s not usually something I’m looking for. Should I keep an eye out?”

“Definitely,” Zelda said as Link handed back the Slate with a frown. His other hand hadn’t moved from his eye, pressing now into his eye bag. Zelda stored the Slate on her hip and reached out to remove Link’s fingers from his face as she smiled at Paya. Something about the motion made it feel like they had done this before. “And so will I. Nothing bad has happened this entire time we’ve been out here, and I bet his eyes have been glowing the whole time. So I think, overall, we should be fine. It doesn’t seem to be threatening. Maybe it’s like how Mipha glowed when she used her healing powers. Or the way that I glow when I use my own. I don’t think it’s anything bad, Paya, Link.”

“Right,” Paya said.

Link nodded slowly. His hands clenched. Zelda took one, unprying his fingers. Paya took his other and laced his fingers with her own. Zelda glanced at them and copied her. Link looked between them, unamused.

“I’m fine,” Link said.

“Of course you are,” Zelda said, nodding.

“I never doubted it for a second,” Paya agreed.

Link sighed, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky. Paya followed his gaze, finding the stars beginning to appear, slowly coming into view in the steadily darkening sky. The air was cold, but Paya was standing so close to her friends and so overheated from fighting all day that she barely felt it. The breeze felt nice on her still sweaty skin.

“It’s a beautiful evening,” Zelda said, looking up as well. “I rarely got to see these, within the castle.”

Paya watched the tension drain out of Link as he considered Zelda. Love her, he’d told Paya weeks ago, but don’t know her. Wanna relearn.

Paya wondered what he was learning from this. What exactly about this exchange had him examining Zelda like that. What he was planning.

“If it helps,” Paya started.

Zelda pointed at Paya with her free hand. “Absolutely not. No more Paya-isms for today. I want to languish really fast in this moonrise.”

“I was just going to say I haven’t really watched a moonrise recently either,” Paya said, giggling, “and definitely not with someone else.”

Link looked at Paya now, his expression unchanged. Zelda rolled her eyes and kicked out at Paya.

“You’re ruining the moment, Paya!” Zelda said, but now she was giggling too. She released Link’s hand to lunge at Paya.

Paya shrieked and jumped behind Link, hiding behind his bulk. Link was great, he looked small and scrawny until you got close to him, and then his muscles and loose clothing and copious amounts of gear finally added up into someone broader and more solid than expected, even if Paya was taller than he was.

Link let them chase each other around him for a couple minutes before he stuck a leg out. He caught Paya as she tripped and tucked her under an arm, ignoring her screech. He stepped into Zelda’s path and got her in the stomach with his other shoulder and heaved her up as well.

“Domain time,” Link said and started wobbling down the road, compensating for their weight by swaying from side to side like a pendulum. “Enough playing.”

“Oh, I just know it killed you to say that,” Zelda said, still laughing, “Mr. discovered every secret Hyrule had to share in the two years it took to return to the castle.”

“If it was urgent, you would’ve told me,” Link said dismissively, “and it wasn’t urgent. You held for a hundred years. Two more wouldn’t break your back.”

Paya thought, for a second, that it was too harsh of a sentiment. She twisted as much as she could without falling from under Link’s arm, trying to see Zelda, but the angle was too steep. Zelda had both her hands on Link’s upper back, propping herself. Paya thought that Zelda might take offense.

Instead, Zelda’s laughter petered out. She leaned down to knock her head against Link’s, twisting awkwardly to do so.

“Your faith in me is much appreciated,” Zelda said, sounding nothing but warm and loving. Paya’s own eyes closed at the emotion in her voice. She wondered how Link could keep walking, the focus of that high regard. Maybe he was used to it. Maybe he was practiced at hiding it. “Besides, two years more of stored power is two years more of stored power. I was able to store more in these last two years as Ganon split his attention away from me, so in the end it was a more total win against him.”

“Overkill,” Link said.

“Sure was! And I enjoyed every second,” Zelda said, “next time there’s a world-ending threat, you get to have the final blow. It’s incredibly satisfying.”

“Nah,” Link said, “Paya can have it.”

Which. Implied that Link wanted her to be there the next time he had a big adventure.

Truly, her lovefriend cared about her so much.

“I would be honored,” Paya said, a little choked up.

“Aww, Paya,” Zelda cooed. She lowered herself down and now Paya could see her properly. Paya lifted her hand as best she could so Zelda could grab it and squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’ll be great, it’ll be so satisfying.”

Link sighed as they reached the first of the waterfalls. He lowered Paya to the ground, waited until she was standing properly, then bent in half to place Zelda firmly on the ground. Zelda grinned at him, cheeks red and hair messy, eyes sparkling. Paya and Link both stared at her, momentarily rendered speechless at how happy she was.

“Race you two down into the Domain,” Zelda said and turned to hurl herself off the waterfall. Paya and Link rushed after her, alarmed, before Zelda opened her paraglider with a loud snap that echoed through the mountains. Her laughter followed it, ringing through the air.

Paya and Link fumbled for their own paragliders – but Paya’s was in the Slate and not strapped to her back, because her hat interfered with deploying it, and the Slate was very much on Zelda’s hip. Link didn’t have that problem, already primed to start after her.

“She’s gonna fall anyway,” Link said.

“I know,” Paya said, pouting.

Link rolled his eyes and leaned forwards to kiss her. Then he rushed after Zelda, soaring through the air after her. Paya could just jump down the waterfall. . . but that would injure her. She’d been around Link long enough to know that physics just didn’t apply to him in the same way it did to her. So she took a deep breath and started the long way down the mountains.

Even with the long walk ahead of her, Paya’s chest was still warm with delight.

⚔️👑⚔️

“I see,” King Dorephan said, with a slow nod, “so that’s what happened. I’m glad my son did not embellish the story of Calamity’s fall overmuch.”

“No, it was pretty close to the truth when he told us,” Zelda said. She was in one of the formal dresses they’d gotten from Hateno – Zelda’s shoulders were bared to the world, with all their pretty freckles. The dress was tied in the center with a pretty silver belt, Zora make, that was with many sapphire woven threads hanging around the flowing blue fabric. She wore Zora jewelry again, silvery threads wrapped around her wrists and neck, one visible around her thigh where the slit of the dress revealed it like a shining, delicate garter.

“So he has regaled you with the tale as well,” King Dorephan said, laughing heartily. Sidon rubbed at the back of his head, but his smile didn’t die even a little bit. “And you were the ones who lived it!”

“I felt I had to!” Sidon said. “I wished to impart my admiration and delight at witnessing a victory one hundred years in the coming! And to let the friends of my heart know just how much respect I had for their efforts – and to preempt the stories I’m sure the rest of the Domain is telling about my reaction. I assure you, I did not do anything untoward, even if it was less becoming of a prince to act in the manner that I did.”

“I could hear him screaming from here,” King Dorephan said, smiling in amusement at his suddenly embarrassed son. “I knew you won the battle because it went from pleading to the most feral noise I’ve heard my dear son make since he was a newborn.”

“Don’t say that,” Sidon said into his hands, hiding his face, “I beg of you.”

“There were no words from my normally verbose son,” King Dorephan, “the only time that has come close was his victory cry in Lurelin, however long ago it was. I had traveled after him, it was the only reason I heard it then. But this time, I am sure even the people of Lurelin could hear it.”

“Father, please.”

“What a polite son I raised,” King Dorephan continued as Sidon whirled to glare up at him, his cheeks puffed out with how hard he was pouting. It was strange to see the expression on a Zora, but Paya was giggling with Zelda and Link anyway. “I didn’t even realize until I heard that scream. He’s normally so reserved – even when Mipha and Ruta were freed, he kept his wits about him.”

“I hadn’t considered Sidon to be reserved before,” Zelda said, teasing.

Sidon whirled on her with a betrayed expression. “Zelda! I entreat you!”

“But I think I see it, now,” she said.

“Link,” Sidon said, rounding on his dear friend, holding his arms towards him, “Link, you cannot let this slander of me stand.”

“I was wondering what the loud noise I heard was,” Link said thoughtfully, “I could’ve sworn I’d heard something from Zora’s Domain at the end of the battle.” Zelda turned to bury her face in Link’s shoulder, laughter shaking her.

“Paya?” Sidon asked. “Paya, we are new acquaintances but I have never once treated you ill since you arrived, you said so yourself.”

“Kakariko heard you clearly, Sidon,” Paya told him gently.

Sidon made a little horrified noise and fell to his knees, hands on the ground. “No. . . it can’t be. . .”

Paya moved to his side as Link and Zelda lost it, crouching down to pat his shoulder. “No, we didn’t hear it, I’m just messing with you.”

Sidon looked up with wide eyes. “Truly?”

“Truly,” Paya said, “we just thought it was a part of Calamity’s death cries.”

Sidon looked somewhat devastated at the news. He flopped over as Paya giggled. “A part of the Calamity’s death throws! Did I truly sound so un-Zora?”

“You did,” King Dorephan said, chortling.

“Didn’t you say the Domain answered in kind?” Paya said, finally taking pity on her newest friend.

Sidon lay on the floor another few seconds before suddenly sitting up. He took Paya’s hands in his own. “You’re right!” Then he let go and rose to his feet to point, with all the flair of a triumphant prince, at his father. “You cheered as loud as I did! Don’t think I didn’t heard you, dear father!”

“Ah, how lucky you are to have found a kind friend in the Lady Paya,” King Dorephan said, still laughing at his son, “I was content to never bring that up again. Yes, I did cheer, for it was a joyous occasion. One of the best moments of my long three hundred years.”

“Three hundred!” Paya gasped as she stood back up, hovering at Sidon’s side.

“Yes,” King Dorephan said, “I am descendant of the long lived Ocean Zora. I do believe I will live for at least another hundred more, but my dear son has the full span of four hundred years before him. I remember when Dowager King Rhoam was a bumbling noble, fond of then-Princess Zelda and unable to figure out how to express it. I remember when this Zelda’s grandmother was born, and her mother before her, and hers before her. I have seen the Domain rise and fall, its heights and declines, have seen the Queendom of Hyrule change and develop. And fall. I hope, Queen Zelda, that I might see it rise once more within my lifetime.”

Zelda’s laughter trailed away, leaving the room silent. Paya looked to her, trying to judge if she needed intervention, but Zelda shook her head a little and straightened up. Some of the joy disappeared from her face. Paya wished it would stay.

“Yes,” Zelda said, “I would have my people living in comfort again, within my lifetime if possible.”

“I do believe it’s possible,” King Dorephan said warmly, “especially with you in charge. You are a mighty woman, Queen Zelda, with the intelligence to match. I believe your people will return to you quickly, once they see who you are. The rest, time and hard work will achieve.”

“Thank you for your faith,” Zelda said, dipping her head regally, “I will endeavor to reward it.” Paya felt it would be a little awkward to go join her now, so she settled in beside Sidon for the long haul. “Though, it would be. . .” Zelda trailed off, considering her words before she sighed heavily and looking at Paya.

What did she mean – what did she want Paya to say? They hadn’t discussed this beforehand!

“It may yet take some time,” Paya said. If there was anything good about being trapped for half a day, speaking to King Dorephan, it had been that she no longer was nervous around him. “We still have to go around and visit the other nations, as well as our own towns and stables. Zelda is going to need to see the people for herself before she can figured out what to do next.”

“Exactly,” Zelda said, sounding relieved, “thank you, Paya.”

Paya smiled at her.

“Of course,” King Dorephan said, with a nod, “and while you continue your tour, know that you will always be welcome within the Domain. You, Link, and Paya.”

Zelda nodded. “And the rest of my people? I understand that we don’t have an agreement to secure their passage, and that they have not been treated so well in the past.” Her eyes were clear, not necessarily defiant, but with her chin lifted and her shoulders squared, she looked every inch the queen she was born to be.

Paya glanced over at King Dorephan to find him frowning down at her. “No, you are correct. The Domain has been closed for many decades before Link’s return. It was a measure to keep Calamity out, but I see how it has been used against your people. Rest assured, all Hylians – as well as all Sheikah – will be welcomed within the Domain, as they have been since Mipha and Ruta were freed.”

“Thank you,” Zelda said, with another dip of her head, “it is much appreciated. I would assure you of the same treatment, but the Zora have made their homes in Hyrule proper regardless of rain, shine, or Calamity itself. I hope you know you are as equally welcomed within my lands.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” King Dorephan said, smiling fondly, “I will ensure it is well known.”

Zelda nodded again. There was a brief lull as everyone recovered from that conversation. Paya shifted her weight slightly and looked up at Prince Sidon. It occurred to her that he might be the lowest ranking person here – including Link, who was the mythical hero of Hyrule. Sidon caught her looking and smiled widely down at her.

“Will you all be staying long?” He asked.

“I don’t think so,” Paya said, “but I assure you, we will return quickly. We have a few errands to run, and I have a message I am expecting. It should arrive here, but if we’re already gone by then, could you send it ahead to Tarrey Town?”

“Of course,” Sidon said, “and if you are in neither place I will hunt the three of you down myself. It has been a long time since I’ve left the Domain – decades, even. Other than patrols and to visit Ruta, I find myself here, within our silver walls. It would be good for me, wouldn’t you agree, Father?” He turned to look at King Dorephan.

“No, I don’t believe I do,” King Dorephan said, with the concealed wariness of someone having the same conversation for the millionth time. “Does the Domain not please you, my prince? Are you not content with the Zorana Range? This is the land you are meant to rule. If you are displeased with it, speak up.”

“Not as such, my king, of course not,” Sidon said, waving his hands, “but I would still benefit from traveling to the lands beyond. And now, without the Calamity, there is no safer time to do that. The Domain pleases me, of course it does, it is my home and my inheritance. However it is also all that I know. How could that be, how to say this, how can I lead my people without knowing for my own self what the outside world is like? It benefits no one to keep me here.”

Paya looked to the side to find Zelda giving King Dorephan a dead-eyed look while Link hid his face in a hand.

“It benefits our people, who your daily tasks take care of,” King Dorephan said. Sidon, whose hands remained unobtrusive despite how he gestured, flicked his claws. Nervous tick? Maybe the equivalent of Grandmother clicking her tongue? A bad movement, Paya felt either way. “Which you have sworn to do.”

“I remember, Father,” Sidon said, “and I do intend to continue taking care of our people. That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t do a better job with a reference point to the outside world.”

“Which you have,” King Dorephan said, looking significantly at Zelda and Link, “I have denied you nothing of importance, Sidon.”

Paya winced. She didn’t think she had ever heard King Dorephan call his son by name before. Sidon’s fingers flicked again.

“I see,” Sidon said, looking somewhat sheepish as his eyes found the ground. Somehow he managed to tie his disappointment into what looked something like introspection. Paya wanted to help, she really did, but she was worried that saying something might bring King Dorephan’s wrath, if he had any, down on the heads of the Sheikah.

Link, representative of nothing and no one but himself, had no such qualms. “You sure he can’t come with us? You know I’m good for it.”

Well, last time that Link was trusted with the safety of a Zora heir, she died, so Paya wasn’t sure how good for it Link was. But his request did cause King Dorephan to pause, eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Sidon said, seizing the opportunity, “I would not be traveling alone and unprotected, dear father. I would be amongst friends, and amongst the best fighters in the world. Link, the Hero of Hyrule, Zelda who banished Calamity, and Paya, trained extensively in Sheikah Arts. All that, and I myself am one of the strongest swimmers and fighters in the Domain.”

“No, my son,” King Dorephan said, gently, “and that is final.”

The fight washed out of Sidon. His shoulders slumped, but he summoned up a smile from somewhere as he nodded. That wasn’t even a little bit fair to Sidon, but there was really nothing Paya could do.

“Speaking of leaving,” Zelda said, “we were planning to go tomorrow morning and be back in a few days to collect our letter.”

“Of course,” King Dorephan said with his pleasant smile, “I’m sure you have many preparations to make in the meantime.”

“Yes,” Zelda said, “we do.”

⚔️👑⚔️

In the end, Zelda couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Paya trailed her to the throne room alone and found King Dorephan sitting and staring off into the distance. Paya was familiar with the Domain now, after several days of being shown around; she knew that if she followed his gaze, she would find the mountaintop the Divine Beast Vah Ruta rested on.

Paya also knew where the hidden places within the throne room were. Some had been pointed out by Sidon, ones he had himself used as a child, but Paya chose one of her own. Dressed in the silvers and blues of the Domain, her hat left behind so it wouldn’t give her away – that wasn’t becoming of her, to hide the marker of her station; she would need to figure out how to be stealthy with such an obvious article of clothing.

Zelda bowed a little to King Dorephan. He bowed back.

“You want to talk about my son,” King Dorephan said.

“Well,” Zelda said, folding her hands in front of her and smiling pleasantly, “that prevents me from needing to explain why I’m here.”

“I will not change my mind,” King Dorephan said, “I have been having this argument with my beloved son for something like five decades now.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Zelda said, “though I would never believe myself to be above some meddling.”

King Dorephan heaved a sigh. “I would have you keep your meddling to yourself. I know already. I had this same argument with my father when I was Sidon’s age. I imagine my father had it with his father, and his before him, so on and so forth, for as long as my line has existed.”

“Good,” Zelda said, “then you already know what I am going to say.”

“Yes,” King Dorephan said, “I know all too well.”

“Then one leader to another,” Zelda said, “though I am younger and far less experienced than you are, and have no children of my own to mind, why will you not let him go? He will leave eventually. Better to keep it on your terms, I think.”

“He’s too young,” was the response that King Dorephan gave.

Zelda’s smile somehow grew, sickly sweet to look upon. “You know that’s a lie, your majesty.”

“I seem to have lost the ability to navigate politics over the long, one hundred year wait,” King Dorephan said, “to be seen through so easily once would have been an embarrassment.”

Paya shifted a little in her hiding spot as Zelda laughed, sweet and soft and polite in a distant way that set her on edge. Zelda was not distant. She was kind above all, from all the depths of her soul. King Dorephan joked he was out of practice, but Paya could tell just by listening that Zelda remembered exactly what she had been a hundred years ago and knew intimately how to imitate that long-distant image of herself.

It was scary. Paya wasn’t used to this part of her.

Paya was used to Zelda being pushy and commanding. She was used to Zelda giggling and laughing and telling jokes. She was used to the late night conversations, the earnest way she interacted with the world.

But this? This polite, sweet Zelda? Paya didn’t know how to explain it. Her fingers itched to write it down somehow.

“I’m not here for politics, as I’ve said,” Zelda said, “so, don’t worry so hard about it.” Kind, even though Paya felt that it was fake.

“And yet you would have me address you as a leader of a nation,” King Dorephan.

“It is my right,” Zelda said, “inexperienced though I am.”

Paya wished she could take out her pad and pen. At least so that she could draw Zelda like this, her back straight and chin lifted, proud and – Paya really, severely had a crush on her. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to tell Link all about this meeting, and expose something that was supposed to remain a secret, or if she wanted to hoard the memory to herself.

King Dorephan leveled Zelda with an unfamiliar look. Distant, somewhat, and angry, from what she could tell. But overwhelmingly tired, overall.

“I would not call that a right,” King Dorephan said.

Zelda didn’t respond beyond a regal nod, waiting.

“Is it so unreasonable,” King Dorephan said into the silence of evening, “that I would not have my son follow in my daughter’s footsteps?”

“Is it not so unreasonable,” Zelda echoed, “that your son might want out from her shadow?”

King Dorephan frowned at her. “Sidon loves his sister.”

“Yes, it’s clear he does,” Zelda said, and now she turned away, looking out into the distance where King Dorephan had been looking earlier, “but love is not the only emotion that exists between siblings, is it? I imagine the comparisons to the Princess Mipha have been drawn his whole life, even if he is too goodhearted to mention it. A lifetime of being compared to the warrior princess who died for a cause bigger than anything you will ever face – it’s a difficult corner to be backed into.”

“I wouldn’t call being protected a corner.”

“I would,” Zelda said. “Do you remember being a child, King Dorephan? A young Zora, if nothing else. Would the you of then call protection freedom?” She paused, but didn’t wait long enough for King Dorephan to answer. “To some extent, of course, I would not blame yourself for trying to protect your son. He is your son. But I must admit to some discomfort now that Sidon is an adult.”

“He is my son,” King Dorephan said and then, with a tilt of his great head, continued with, “I will let you in on a secret. It is not a secret your father would have known, when he raised you.”

“Of course,” Zelda said.

“Sidon is, above all else, headstrong,” King Dorephan said, “if he wished to leave, he would leave. That is how he is. He wants, as most children do, reassurance. I will keep him here as long as he needs me to. But rest assured, the moment he deems this unnecessary, he will be gone. You Hylians are so obsessed with this idea that children must be abandoned once they come of age. That is not how it is for the Zora. My children are my children, regardless of age. This will forever be their home, regardless of how old they are or where in the world they live. I believe the Gerudo and Sheikah have a similar tradition, though the Rito clearly share the same lack of care for their chicks.”

Zelda frowned, finally.

“No, don’t take it the wrong way,” King Dorephan sighed, “but there are only so many times I can hear of Rito who leave their skies at the first chance to see what else the world can offer before I start believing it is a part of their culture. My point, little Queen, is that you are worrying too much. I may be old. I may be disconnected from the world. But I know my son. And while she lived, I knew my daughter. Sidon will leave on his own, either when he is good and ready or when circumstances allow him to escape his own fear. It has already happened several times – my son can never say no to a request for help.

“But until the next time that can happen, I believe he wants someone to butt heads with. He can’t do that with almost anyone from the Domain. But I am his lord father. I don’t enjoy denying him what he wants. This is a small matter. It hurts no one, including my beloved son. Though I thank you for your concern.”

Zelda nodded. Paya felt a little embarrassed for her. She’d assumed wrong, apparently, and had acted anyway, without all the information. There was a reason Sheikah were, more often than not, forbidden from acting.

But Zelda herself didn’t look embarrassed at all.

“I see,” Zelda said, some of the politeness draining away. It left her with her normal smile, soft and relieved as she looked up at King Dorephan. “Thank you for your reassurances. I’d hate for Sidon to be trapped in a similar position as I was, before the Calamity.”

“No,” King Dorephan said, “I know better than that. I saw how it hurt you. And I saw how my attempts with Mipha failed. She was always so strong. . . everything I know about how to be a father, I know because she taught me. There is nothing quite like a rebellious child to teach you what truly matters. It was part of why I was so glad to see you befriend her. Had the two of you a little more time to each other, I believe she could have, ah, been a bad influence on you.”

Zelda laughed, the rest of her tension draining away. “She was bad enough as it was! How many tours of the castle and the surrounding area I had to take her on to hide her teaching me to fight! Of course, I’m not where near proficient at it, but I can at least handle a spear. And a bow, but that was all Urbosa and Revali.”

“Yes,” King Dorephan said, “we were all singularly dedicated to teaching you to fight. We could see what the late dowager king could not.”

“Thank you,” Zelda said, her smile fading into something more painful, “it meant the world to me.”

“You are very welcome,” King Dorephan said. He reached out to ever so carefully pat Zelda’s head with a couple clawed fingers. Zelda reached up and wrapped her hands around them, pressing her face into his scales. Paya abruptly felt bad for spying, but she didn’t dare move. It would be a miracle if King Dorephan hadn’t seen her.

Zelda said her goodbyes and slipped out of the throne room. Paya watched her go, watched her run into a returning Sidon, the two of them launching into excited conversation. It was only when they moved out of hearing range that King Dorephan sighed.

“I imagine,” he said, “though I have no proof, that Chief Paya is here. I can’t imagine where – all of my dear son’s hiding spots have their holes. And she is in none.”

Paya smiled, feeling abruptly childish. It was like playing hide and seek as a child, and having Dorian pretend he couldn’t see her, even when he knew she was there. She slipped out of her hiding spot as silently as possible and came into the throne room from the front entrance.

“Ah, there you are,” King Dorephan said, “it was a good hiding spot. You extracted yourself well, though I’d hoped you’d wear your hat. It is a difficult thing to hide.”

“That’s why I decided against wearing it,” Paya said.

“Here to meddle as well?” King Dorephan asked.

“No,” Paya said and shrugged a little. “Just keeping an eye on my queen.” On Zelda, on her friend, but King Dorephan didn’t know that and likely wouldn’t for a long time yet.

“So you say,” King Dorephan said, smiling, “but I have known many Sheikah in my long centuries. There is always some ulterior motive.”

“No, not today,” Paya said, “just watching.”

Ki ng Dorephan raised an eyebrow, but switched topics . “I am glad you find Zora silks so comfortable. Maybe next time you visit, I should request you be given clothing that doesn’t match the walls.”

Paya grinned. “You have great faith in my abilities, King Dorephan. I would welcome any gift form you and your people with my deepest gratitude.” And she would welcome any treatment that would allow for her and Zelda to make mistakes.

Chapter Text

Zelda was giggling as she messed with the things on Paya’s back. Paya let her, beaming, holding still as possible to try and prevent Zelda from messing up too badly. Link laid on the ground a few meters away, spread eagle on his front, probably asleep.

In front of them sprawled the beauty of the Akkala region. The Akkala Falls poured around them, roaring so loud it was hard to hear. The air here was cold, made goosebumps rise on Paya’s skin. She kept opening her mouth, trying to drink the air, store it inside her. The sun was a fraction of the way into the sky, yet still covered the world in a burning golden shine, heat beat back only by the sheer amount of water moving through the air. Zelda’s fingers were cold against Paya’s skin.

“Ok, there!” Zelda said and bounced around Paya with the Slate. She showed it to Paya.

From the back, it didn’t look like anything had changed. Paya’s massive hat covered her back and hung down to hide butt as well. But the next picture showed Zelda’s genius – a contraption, not unlike Link’s many harnesses and weapon holding contraptions. Instead of a weapon, though, this one held Paya’s paraglider.

“Deploying it is a little different, because of your hat,” Zelda explained, “you have to grab it from the side and take it out sideways. I was playing with it last night, and I think I’ve gotten it figured out. But if it jams or gets stuck or something, you will have to let me know immediately. I was going to make a change to the paraglider itself, make it light weight or to change the structure to make it easier to fold and deploy, but then that para. . . no, compromises, sorry, that would then compromise the paraglider’s ability to keep you in the air properly.”

Paya reached back, fingers finding a little notch in the wood now strapped to her. She dug her fingers in and whipped it out in a quick, fluid movement. The glider slipped from its holder, almost jumping into her hand. She raised it and opened it with a loud crack.

Link sat bolt upright, bow already nocked with an arrow. He held still, scanning, ears twitching as he listened.

“Sorry,” Paya said sheepishly.

Link turned to her, eyebrow raised. He looked at the open paraglider in her hands and Zelda’s giggling figure. He sighed and lowered his bow and arrow. He tucked his weapons away and spread out over the ground again.

“You don’t seem great, Link,” Zelda said, coming over to stand in front of him as Paya figured out how to put the paraglider into her new holster. “Doing ok?”

“I hate planning things,” Link said into the dirt.

Zelda turned to look at Paya.

“He does,” Paya said, a little apologetic, “also can you help with this?”

“What do you mean?” Zelda asked, returning to Paya’s side. “Look, you fold it like this, and then it goes in like this, ok? Give it another go.”

“Every time Grandmother told him about something he needed to do,” Paya said slowly as she fumbled with the paraglider, “Link would always nod and thank her for her time and then turn around to give me the most disgusted look ever. And then he wouldn’t even do the thing he was asked to do? He’d come back like two months later like hey, I just finished the thing you said, what’s next?”

“Really?” Zelda said with no small amount of surprise. “Yes, just like that. I recommended practicing it a couple times just to be sure that you’ve really got it, ok?”

“Yeah,” Paya said, sliding the glider free again. This time, Link didn’t so much as twitch at the sound of it cracking open, “though, I feel like I should say that it’s not like Link doesn’t do the things that are asked of him, but more that he loves to do small favors.”

“Oh,” Zelda said, “no, I see that. He was a lot more. . . dutiful, I think the word is? Back when he was a knight. Did what he was told and all that.” She didn’t seem very happy with that information. Zelda turned her frown on Link, stomping back over to him. Paya felt a little bad that she had to keep going back and forth between them, but Paya didn’t want to get too close with her practicing. She knew she was being pretty loud. “Link.”

He lifted his head off the ground, face covered in dirt. “Zelda.”

“You’ve been having a hard time, haven’t you,” Zelda said, “stuck in the Domain, having to follow my and Paya’s schedule.”

“It’s fine,” Link said.

“It’s not,” Zelda said, with all the weight of a princess who knew what she wanted, “and I refuse to keep you at my side like this.”

Link was up in a flash, eyes wide, one hand already reaching for Zelda. “No!”

Zelda blinked, looking between the hand now wrapped around her wrist and his face. “No?”

“Uh.” Link let go and was back in his own space a second later, cheeks slowly reddening. He scratched at a cheek, eyes dropping. He didn’t offer an explanation.

“I only meant that I don’t want you to be unhappy,” Zelda said. She twisted to make eye contact with Paya. “Right, Paya?”

“You never said what we were doing instead,” Paya said, instead of answering.

“Oh, didn’t I?” Zelda said. She smiled at Link, cupping his cheeks. “Link. I would like to do whatever you would like us to do for – well, forever, but for this week, as a starter.” For forever?

Link blinked at her a couple times. He pointed at himself.

“Yes,” Zelda said, “whatever you want in whatever order you would like. Let’s have fun, ok?”

Link nodded, even though her hands were still on his cheeks. Zelda lowered them as Link hummed. He looked around and pointed at a cluster of mushrooms beneath a tree.

“Hylian mushrooms?” Zelda asked.

Link nodded again and bounced over. He squatted down, a smile growing on his face, and cleared the leaves and some of the dirt from the area. Zelda and Paya followed him, watching closely as he reached for the base of the closest mushroom. He pinched and twisted it near the root, cleanly picking up one of the mushrooms. He gestured at the Slate and let Zelda scan it in.

“Your turn,” he said, gesturing to the other mushrooms in the cluster.

The morning passed slowly. At first, it was just them moving from cluster to cluster of mushrooms, picking some and leaving some for Farore to keep, and then suddenly Paya was learning how to catch bugs and release them and how to tell which wild foods were alright to eat and which to leave alone.

Somewhere around noon, something caught Link’s eye beyond the edge of the cliffs. He flapped a hand at Paya and Zelda. With no other warning, Link sprinted off the cliffs and hurtled into the air with a resounding yell.

“Oh, for –” Zelda didn’t waste her breath finishing the thought. She tucked away the Slate, took a deep breath, and launched herself after him. Paya watched them soar out over Lake Akkala for a few seconds before winding up and running out.

She jumped into the air and reached for the divot in the wood. For a second, as she plummeted, Paya couldn’t find it. Her heart leapt to her throat as she scrambled for it. Where was it – where did it go?

There was a distant shout. Paya’s head snapped up, found Link’s eyes on her as he whirled around his paraglider.

Paya wished his eyes shone. Wished she had some promise from some force stronger than she was, as the water drew closer and closer, that she would be ok. Lake Akkala was not deep. And at this speed, it would not be kind, either.

Then her fingers found that divot. She tugged hard.

The paraglider slipped out of her fingers. Paya screamed. She fumbled for it, eyes burning. The water drew ever closer.

Oh, Paya thought, I’m going to die.

And then, miracle of miracles, Paya managed to grab hold of one of the handholds.

She didn’t stop to flip it around in her hands. She wrenched with all her might against the air streaming past her.

CRACK!

Paya screeched as the sudden stop jarred her shoulders. She was holding the paraglider backwards, drifting back towards the cliffs. She leaned her weight to the side, the paraglider sending her in a slow swirl as it turned her face to the cliffs. Paya straightened out, gliding towards Torin Wetland without being able to see it. Her shoulders ached, worse than any pain that she had ever felt in her life.

Link dropped down, hanging just above her from where he had been doing slow circles trying to get close. “Legs! Waist!”

Paya blinked at him, out of breath and teary for fear and pain.

He lost a few feet of air gesturing to his waist. “Legs, Paya!”

Paya blushed, teary out of embarrassment, now. She knew better than to question him, though. She opened her legs, shoulders up by her ears as she managed to wrap them around his waist.

“The glider,” Link said, “I’ll hold. Flip it.”

She – slowly, because her fingers had locked – turned the paraglider around so it was facing the right way.

“Zel’s watching,” Link said and moved his hips a bit, “kiss kiss. Now let go.”

“Kiss kiss,” Paya echoed, smiling at the way Link grinned at her. She let go, the both of them twisting away so they wouldn’t re-collide. Paya pressed her legs together, trying to ignore the brief warmth she absorbed from Link. Her cheeks burned.

They made it to the far shore of Lake Akkala with no other issues. Zelda was at Paya’s side in an instant, apologies and concerns bubbling out of her. She grabbed the paraglider with one hand, her own abandoned on the ground, and lifted Paya’s hat to get a clear look at the contraption she had built. Paya let her, grateful that she wasn’t mentioning the whole Paya–putting–her– l egs–around–Link thing, fully focused on the limitations of her design.

Link, on the other hand, gave Zelda a frustrated look and, when Paya assumed the coast was clear, blew Paya a quick kiss.

She understood. Paya wanted to kiss him really badly too. Maybe it would calm the way her heart raced in her chest or the way her hands shook like leaves in a particularly strong wind.

“I’ll fix this, Paya,” Zelda assured her, removing the whole set up, “this won’t happen again, I assure you.”

“Thank you,” Paya said, voice wobbling.

Link obviously gave up on staying away. He stomped forward and drew Paya into his arms, even though he was a little shorter than she was, and squeezed her as hard as possible. The tension drained out of Paya.

It was a little embarrassing, on some level, just how much Paya trusted Link.

Not just with the adventure, but that he would save her when she needed him and that he would be there whenever anything bad happened. Paya almost dying by paraglider was made almost entirely alright by the fact that Link had been right there, close enough to help, if Paya needed it. Which she did, and he had. There was no – there was no hesitation, no protest, no complaint. Just Link, who saved her when she was scared and shaky. Link, who made everything easy.

“Thanks,” Paya mumbled into his warm skin.

Link hummed in response.

“Drink this,” Zelda ordered, bringing over a hearty potion. Link didn’t let go, so Zelda just awkwardly poured it into Paya’s mouth anyway.

The shaking slowly faded into a light tremble as the pain dulled. Link every now and then glanced around, but otherwise made no attempt to let go. He held her until Paya finally loosened her own hold. Then he stepped back to peer at her face.

He didn’t tell her not to cry. Just frowned and carefully wiped her cheeks with his rough, calloused hands.

⚔️👑⚔️

“Torin Wetland isn’t safe on the best of days,” Link signed as they huddled around their fire. The joy had returned to his face in the past few hours, with Paya trailing behind him and Zelda as they foraged for mushrooms and wild radishes and truffles, of all things. Paya wasn’t really allowed to do anything, as Zelda and Link both claimed she was still recovering, but it was alright. “But we’re going through to the other side. I want you two to see the Spring of Power. We’ll visit all three eventually, but since it’s right here, might as well. Then – well, there’s always lynels in this area. We could go hunting.”

“Lynel hunting?” Zelda said, shuddering. Paya smiled at the way Link lit up.

“Yeah! It’s really fun,” Link said, sitting up straight and expression splitting into a wide smile. “Lynels all seem to have the same training, if that makes sense? They fight the same way. It’s really easy to kill them, if you’ve got the moves down. I’ll teach them to you, from there it’s only a reaction time sort of issue. I think if you give it a couple months, the two of you will be able to kill them all on your own, maybe even faster. And I’ll be there, so it’s almost guaranteed no one will die.”

“I don’t know,” Zelda said, “lynels are pretty powerful.”

Paya opened up her notebook as Link continued the argument. They would pull her back into the conversation if something needed her attention.

Right now, she was thinking. Which she needed her diary for.

What did she want to do about the Yiga? What did she want to do for the Sheikah? She needed concrete goals, but she didn’t know where to start or what to do.

Always only bad choices, she wrote in her notebook, and stared at the words. She placed her pen in her mouth, gnawing on the end of it.

Always only bad choices.

With a self-conscious glance up at her chatting companions, Paya continued to write.

List of Bad Choices to make:

1. Yiga are KOS

2. Ensure Zelda is Queen of Hyrule

3. Return to Kakariko right now

4. Further seclude the Sheikah

5. Only wear Zora clothing for the rest of my life

6. Ditch Zelda and Link

7. Go into hiding forever

8. Give a speech in front of people

Paya stopped herself, frowning at the list. She tore out the page and fed it to the fire.

List of Better choices

1. Continue to support Zelda and Link

2. Visit as many Sheikah in the field as possible

That wasn’t any more helpful.

Paya burned that page as well and groaned. She leaned back until her back hit the ground and stared blankly up at the sky. Zelda, saying something about lynel attack patterns, faltered for a second, but continued anyway. It was kind of them, to give her some privacy with her diary.

the blood was long gone, but my hands still itched

you held them anyway

there’s nothing that could be done

there’s no other choice and you

believed it.

from the depths of your noble heart you dredged

scraps of honor and

misery.

in front of long dead royalty and

she watched over

you swore the world was unkind

with your arms around me and your lips on my forehead

you swore that

and my heart cradled in your hands.

Paya crossed out that last line, feeling a bit silly. The first stanza was good. She liked it. The second. . . suffered from Paya being unsure of what to say. She wanted it out of her chest, this feeling that had been clinging to her for ages now. But she didn’t know how to write it down. Prose wouldn’t do it. Sometimes writing things plainly helped, but this. . .

It was too complicated. Her uncle’s death, Link’s response to it, Zelda’s words in the Domain, the day they spent sparring – and now.

She crossed out the second stanza entirely.

Link and Zelda had moved on from lynels, now. Link was speaking out loud, with his same measured manner of speaking, and when he finished, Zelda’s fast paced chatter filled their air. Paya’s chest ached. How could she explain this feeling?

She turned to a new page.

from sunrise to sunset we stand together

i don’t remember a moment from the last few weeks

where we were truly separated

i have you

and more importantly

you have me

the night brings a chill

without the sun above us

the hold i have on you fades

and the distance between us measures by more than can be

and between us

Paya crossed out the whole stanza.

days of practice doesn’t stop

i could carve a hole in my chest and fit you within that space

and still have room left over to sit beside you

so that you’re never alone

even inside of me

and still it would not stop the night’s chill

it would not stop

and if I could

i could fit more within me if you asked

if those words passed your lips

and hers

my chest is but a cavity

and my heart does not belong to me

we could huddle together

we could take shelter wi

there’s no knife in existence that wouldn't kill me to do it

so i must take the pointed tip of my pen

and lift skin and muscle and bones and

soak the pages

write with blood

scratch out a place

sketch out a place within me where you can

finally, finally

relax

one day i will join you

Paya decided that was enough and painstakingly copied the full poem to a new page. She burned the draft pages in the fire.

“You keep doing that,” Zelda said, “I’m a little worried.”

“It’s fine,” Paya said, “it’s just so that no one can read it.”

“I see,” Zelda said, glancing down at the diary.

Link looked distinctly uncomfortable. He rubbed at a cheek, glancing at Paya out of the corner of his eye. Paya giggled at him.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t actually because of you,” Paya said.

Link sighed, over exaggeratedly, and flopped over onto his side, making Paya and Zelda both giggle.

“It’s cuz Cottla’s old enough to read people’s diaries and then announce the contents to the world,” Paya continued, “she thinks every diary is a complaints ledger. Paya doesn’t think Koko’s carrot cake tastes good, is there any way to make it better? And then Koko didn’t speak to me for a week.”

“No kidding!” Zelda said, covering her mouth as if that would somehow stop Paya from hearing her laugh.

“Serves you right,” Link signed from over on the dirt, “how dare you not like Koko’s food?”

“I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Paya said. Zelda leaned towards her, grinning widely, eyebrows raised. Link sat up, smiling himself. “I don’t like cake at all.”

“No!” Zelda gasped.

“I don’t,” Paya said, “which, thankfully, Cottla didn’t announce to everyone, otherwise I’d be having the same five conversations I was having at an eight year old. Sweets are fine, but cake? Ugh.”

“I’m assuming that’s not an invitation to start looking for a cake you’ll like?” Link asked.

Paya wrinkled her nose. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to stop you, I guess.”

“I’ll find something,” Link said, grinning at her, “just give me a couple weeks to figure it out.”

Zelda nodded, “we just need a cake that doesn’t taste like a cake.”

Link pointed at her.

“Don’t try too hard,” Paya said, but the ache in her chest was fading away. She smiled at them both, getting smiles in return.

⚔️👑⚔️

from sunrise to sunset we stand together

i don’t remember a moment from the last few weeks

where we were truly separated

i have you

and more importantly

you have me

i could carve a hole in my chest and fit you within that space

and still have room left over to sit beside you

so that you’re never alone

even inside of me

there’s no knife in existence that wouldn't kill me to do it

so i must take the pointed tip of my pen

and under skin and muscle and bones and

sketch out a place within me where you can

finally, finally

relax

⚔️👑⚔️

Link rushed in front of them and spun around. He threw his arms out to the sides, smile huge. “Welcome to the Spring of Power!”

They stood at the edge of a cliff, looking out at several strange rock formations. The corpses of ancient flying guardians littered the ground. The plant life were already growing over them, working faster than Paya thought was possible to retake this space from Calamity Ganon.

“You know I’ve been here before, right?” Zelda said, giggling.

Link stuck his tongue out at her. He moved back over to lightly shove Zelda, making her laugh harder, before grabbing Paya’s hand. He dragged her down into the – it was too small to be a canyon, Paya was pretty sure – down the slope and into the ground. Zelda followed them as they passed the tall columns of rock. She caught up and grabbed Link’s other hand, so that he was leading them both.

“There weren’t mechanical parts last time I was here,” Zelda said, gesturing to the machine parts on the ground, “though I think I would have liked it if there were. Something to do other than stand and pray.”

“Is that what it was?” Paya asked.

“Technically, but I’ll tell you a secret that only Link knows,” Zelda said, “I didn’t actually pray in the springs.”

“You didn’t?” Paya asked.

“Nope,” Zelda said, “I don’t believe in the Golden Goddesses.”

Paya felt a little floored. “You don’t?!”

“Nope,” Zelda said, and smiled sunnily, “if they were real, they would have helped, I think. They never did. Or at least, they never gave a shit. Hylia didn’t even help until she absolutely had to, and even then, I don’t really know that she isn’t. . . me, I guess? It’s weird. Do you believe in them?”

“Yes,” Paya said, feeling very unsettled.

Link and Zelda both looked over with raised eyebrows. Link stopped leading them.

“Sorry,” Link signed after a second.

“No, it’s ok,” Paya said, “I understand why it might not, uh, be a popular belief.”

“No, no, tell us about it,” Zelda said with a pretty smile. Link nodded as she continued. “It’s not fair if we just walk around and talk like they definitively don’t exist when neither of us have experienced any proof that they do. I mean, that’s what faith is, isn’t it? I don’t think me believing in Hylia is actual faith, because I know she exists, because I’m kinda her? Or she is me? I’m not really sure, to be honest, and I’ve been using her power – my power? – for the last century. But there’s not any proof the Golden Goddess exist, so I guess that makes your faith all the stronger, doesn’t it?”

“I guess?” Paya said.

“Right,” Zelda said. They looked at each other. Then Zelda blushed, rubbing at a cheek. “I mean, sorry, go on. You believe in the Golden Goddesses?”

“Yes,” Paya said, “They were the ones who made the world. Even if They don’t exist, it would be. . . remiss, I think, not to give thanks to Them.”

Zelda nodded. “I see.”

“Yeah,” Paya said. She didn’t really know what else to say. She wasn’t a huge believer, but she’d grown up in the faith. A faith her grandmother disparaged, but Paya’s father had believed, and he taught Paya, and Paya believed with all her heart as a child.

“There are a few constants in the world,” Paya’s father had said, and Paya now said it to Link and Zelda, “the most obvious ones are the Princess and Hero, the Goddess Hylia and Her chosen knight, but there are others that deserve their own respect and attention. Each people have their own – ours are the Golden Goddesses, who built this world. Din, who created the dirt we stand on and raised the mountains into the sky. Nayru, who brought the water, the weather, and balance with it. Farore looked upon Their creation and saw what it lacked – life to fill the world with joy and with love.”

“Right, that’s more or less what I’ve heard,” Zelda said, nodding, “and the dragons?”

“They are representatives of the Golden Goddesses’ wills,” Paya said, “like the Hylia statues. They are a part of the whole, but not necessarily containing the entirety of Their wills. They don’t really do much – they’re more here to watch over their creations, but not necessarily to intervene.”

“Which would explain why they ignored me when I prayed here,” Zelda said, looking out towards a corner of the area. She started walking, Link and Paya trailing after her. “Though, I do have another theory about it. I never once. . . no, that’s a lie. After the first few years, I didn’t really pray to them. I was just praying to Hylia at the Golden Goddess’ place of worship. Maybe if I hadn’t, I would have been answered earlier.”

“Paya said they don’t interfere,” Link said, “maybe they wouldn’t’ve answered at all, regardless.”

“That’s true,” Zelda said.

“I don’t usually go through here,” Link signed to Paya, walking awkwardly sideways, “normally I drop into the Spring of Power from the edge. That’s how I got in the first time – I didn’t bother with fighting any of the guardians.”

“That’s smart,” Paya signed back, getting a nod from her birlfriend.

The entrance to the spring might have been grandiose once. It was a tall archway, with architecture so old that it was grown over and mossy. Flowers and grasses grew through the cracks of what was once a path deep into the rock.

However that path held, and opened up into a small spring. Paya slowed, eyes going wide as she took it in. It was small and old. It didn’t look immediately impressive, the small path and the dragon statues that lined it. The water that lapped at the edges of the surrounding stone, largely free of algae, with a few fish swimming in the waters. The goddess statue at the other side of the pool was old and cracking, some amount of rubble by her feet.

But it was beautiful.

Paya drifted into the area, her hands clasped in front of her chest as she took it all in. She felt a little choked up, looking at it. This was somewhere she had always, quietly, wanted to go. It was somewhere her father had wanted to go. Her mother had been raised on Grandmother’s brutal practicality, hadn’t believed in anyone other than Zelda, but her father had wanted, so desperately to be here.

To stand here, to step audibly across wet stone, to breathe in the damp, green smell of the plants living here. To stand in front of the spring and feel the rolling waves of calm that came from such a place of power and magic.

She wished she could have shown this to him.

Paya prayed to Hylia all the time. Not often since leaving home, because in the light of everything happening, it had fallen by the wayside. But the Golden Goddesses had always been harder to pray for. What did she need? She didn’t need to ask for steady ground or sweet, loving air, or plentiful water. Hylia was the one who would answer her with regards to the Yiga and the sacred orb.

Maybe it would cheapen her prayer, to make it here within the Spring of Power.

She raised her hands anyway, lowered her head to them.

“Golden Din,” Paya murmured over her clasped hands, “who stitched together the outline of the universe, and raised the volcanoes to create the land. I pray for Your protection and care, for the shelter of Your fire, and the support of Your dirt and sands. I pray for Your power, to be who we are and to act in our own favor. I pray for the strength to keep going and the strength to help where it’s needed.”

There were a hundred more prayers she could say, and maybe ten or more she was planning to say, but the water was – it was bubbling. Her words trailed off as she frowned at it.

Zelda cursed and scrambled up from where she’d been soaking her feet. They came out of the water red. Link didn’t go to her – which was weird, so Paya took a step forward. Before she could get close, the air roared and burned as though it wasn’t early morning. Her head snapped up.

Above them swirled miles of scales and claws and fangs. Bright red, with swirling horns arching into the air, Dinraal lowered towards the earth.

Link jumped up and down, waving with both hands. Paya sank to her knees.

Dinraal’s great head dipped into the space between the cliffs, the water evaporating from the spring, the heat rolling off of Dinraal cooking the fish that lived within.

One great green eye opened, ringed by red lids and white eyelashes. Dinraal turned her head so that she could examine Zelda. To her credit, Zelda didn’t so much as flinch. Instead she squared her shoulders and gave Dinraal a regal nod. Dinraal, after a second or two, nodded as well, in a movement so massive that Paya almost didn’t recognize it

Then Dinraal turned to Link. In a movement almost too sharp to track, she caught Link with the tip of her nose and tossed him into the air.

Link screamed, the sound morphing into wild laughter. Zelda giggled, covering her face with her hands, but Paya stayed on the floor. The cold, damp stone dug into her knees as Dinraal caught and threw Link several more times.

Paya had never seen a dragon before, much less seen one play.

Dinraal graciously allowed Link to land on her, didn’t so much as flinch as he hurried to grab whatever few supplies he needed from her burning body. Then he slid down the length of her head and landed back on the stone, cheeks red and hair messy, smile taking up his entire face.

And then – and then –

Dinraal set her attention on Paya.

Her mouth dried up the instant that eye found her. Paya wanted to prostrate herself fully on the floor, but her limbs were locked and her eyes burned. Dinraal inched closer, looming over Paya until all she could see was Dinraal’s fiery scales.

Dinraal stopped, less than a foot away.

Paya, unable to help herself, raised a shaking hand. Dinraal blinked, once, slow.

The scales of Dinraal’s face were startlingly cool – in comparison to the air that surrounded her, which burned Paya’s skin ever so slightly. The scales were only slightly warmer than Paya herself was.

What would Dad have done, if he was here? He would have been pressed flat to the floor, mouth dripping prayers, but all Paya could do was bring her hand down, finding the fuzz of Dinraal’s mane. It was soft and smooth against her palm.

She scooted forwards and leaned down to press her forehead against Dinraal.

Dinraal allowed it, and did not move when Paya’s eyes filled with tears that evaporated before they had the chance to fall.

Paya pulled herself away before she was ready, sure that Dinraal had things to do. Dinraal blinked once more.

Then she was unfurling, the lengths of her body writhing in the air above the spring, a swirling inferno that dissipated as Dinraal stretched out, soaring up and into the air, too far away to touch within seconds, too far to see details within minutes.

“Alright,” Zelda said slowly, looking between Paya’s teary face and Link’s shining eyes, “how about we call it a day?”

⚔️👑⚔️

“Is it my turn?” Link asked, voice low and grumpy, like he had just woken up. Paya watched as his grip loosened on his sword.

“No, go back to sleep,” Zelda said, her voice shockingly level.

Link grumbled some quiet reply and turned back over, back to Zelda and Paya. Zelda lowered her head back into her hands, so she didn’t see the way Link laid there, every muscle in his body tensed. Paya eyed him, but she couldn’t exactly bring any attention to it, in order to save all three of them some strife.

When Link’s breaths evened out a little, but before he relaxed entirely, Zelda spoke. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“It’s only happened twice,” Paya said softly, “that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s going to keep happening,” Zelda said with a little shake of her head. She hadn’t lifted her face. “I can feel it. Something’s wrong, Paya. I’ve always been told that between cycles, Hylia’s power fades. If there’s no threat, there’s no reason to hang over the world. Why hold on to so much power if there’s nothing to fight? So why hasn’t it gone away yet? Why am I having these – these nightmares? I don’t understand!

“Do you want to know what happened in the dream? Last time it was whatever. It was a nightmare I’ve been entertaining for my whole life – what if I’m trapped and hurt and Link doesn’t come? I’ve worried over it for a century. It’s old. And then – and then it twisted, Paya, it changed, and suddenly Link was there and he watched me fight and he didn’t help. He left me to rot! And I woke up so angry and next thing I knew, I was using my magic.

“But Paya, my power has never worked on rage!” Zelda looked up at her now, face red and teary. “That isn’t how it works, fundamentally! I was an angry kid. My mom was dead and I was taken away to learn all about religion and praying and nothing was working. Why didn’t it manifest then, if it was an anger driven power? It should have, shouldn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Paya said.

“But that isn’t how it works.” Zelda wiped at her face, wiped her newly-wet hands on her shirt. Her voice took on the lecturing quality she fell back on whenever explaining some complicated scientific concept. “I was talking to Mipha, just before Ganon attacked. And what she said was later confirmed by the way in which my own power manifested later on. It wasn’t fear or rage or any such emotion that made my power burst forth. It was love.”

Link’s eyes snapped open, his ears starting to turn red. Paya nodded to show Zelda that she was listening and not that her alarm at this situation had been suddenly replaced by her sudden need to keep Zelda’s attention as far off Link as possible.

“It was because I saw Link at the end of his tether,” Zelda continued, looking earnestly at Paya, “after literally fighting for both of our lives for hours. I saw him on the edge of death and still struggling to fight back against the guardians that surrounded us. And the thing is that Link is so powerful. There is not a single doubt in my mind that if he had chosen to, he could have returned to the castle and killed Ganon that very first day. He could fight three lynels at once, surrounded by smaller and more annoying enemies, and he could still win. Even with a damaged Master Sword, he could have done it. He must have known that. He was always practical, under the stoicism and the mischievousness underneath.

“But for some reason he chose me over that. He could have ended Ganon in a day and chose instead to save my life. That meant – that meant everything to me, Paya. I was known throughout the kingdom as a failure. Everyone knew that there was some sort of power I was supposed to unlock but couldn’t.

“And here was someone who believed in me so much that he would doom the world to keep me alive. . . Paya. . .”

Paya crawled over the grass to wrap her arms around Zelda. Zelda relaxed in her arms, twisting awkwardly so she could press her face into Paya’s neck. Paya tried not to give away a laugh as she watched Link slowly and near silently turn, cheeks as red as his ears, eyes finding Zelda.

“All I wanted in that moment was for him to be ok,” Zelda whispered against Paya’s shoulder, “to pay back all the kindness and love he had given me. I wanted to protect him – I’ve never protected anything before, Paya. I’m not made for it. I can only make things and destroy things.”

Paya didn’t believe that for a second.

“But that was how my power unlocked,” Zelda continued without even taking a breath, “through my response to Link’s belief in me. Through love and respect and gratefulness. So why is it manifesting again through anger? Once I understood, even deep in the mires of my battle with Calamity Ganon, I have never once drawn from it using hate or fear or anger or anything like that.”

“Maybe it’s evolved?” Paya said uncertainly.

Zelda untangled herself, so quickly that Link had to jerk back around to not get caught spying.

“Wouldn’t it have evolved in the last one hundred years of fighting, then?” Zelda said. She wiped her face again. The tears had fallen away now, replaced by a determination that was frankly stunning to see. “I think that maybe I should start experimenting with it again. After the first decade or two, I didn’t bother. I figured I had uncovered everything that I needed. But if it insists on staying around – maybe there’s something I missed. Some occurrence, some facet of power. Are you with me, Paya?”

“Of course,” Paya said, “I’ve already promised you, haven’t I?”

“Yes,” Zelda said with a little smile, “you have. Sorry to keep – keep doubting you.”

“That’s fine,” Paya said, a little self consciously. Zelda was so pretty when she smiled. “That’s what I’m here for, anyway.”

“I’ll try to have a little more faith,” Zelda said, “I mean, you and Link both believe in me so much. I should believe in you as well. It truly is the least I could do, especially with the both of you going to such lengths to take care of me. Thank you for listening, Paya.”

“Of course,” Paya said.

“And if you need anything, just ask,” Zelda said, taking Paya’s hands to squeeze them, “you know you can, right?”

“I know,” Paya said gently, “I just don’t need anything at the moment. When I do, I’ll tell you, I promise.”

“You’d better,” Zelda said. For a moment she just looked at Paya. Then she leaned forward and ever so carefully kissed Paya’s forehead.

Paya burned. Her heart pounded in her chest as Zelda let go and drew back into her own space, twisting around to check that no bugs had gotten on her pillow before laying back down. Paya’s forehead was warm where Zelda’s soft lips had touched it.

“Good night,” Paya made herself say, keeping her voice level by sheer force of will.

“Good night, Paya,” Zelda said sweetly. “Tomorrow, we’ll figure this out.” Her eyes closed as she snuggled down into her blanket.

Paya reached up to press her fingers just underneath her tingling skin. Zelda had kissed her forehead. Zelda had kissed her forehead. Why did she do that? How was Paya supposed to stay on alert now?

⚔️👑⚔️

After Link and Paya killed the various Bokoblin riders in the area, the three of them stood in one of the Akkala fields. The sun was bright and warm, but the wind was cold, providing much needed relief. Link and Paya were both already sweaty from their hunt, but Zelda, who had surveyed the area to see if it suited their needs, was bright eyed and relaxed.

“Alright,” Zelda said with a big grin, “let’s give it a go, then? I’ll try pulling it up on my own, but if after a while that doesn’t work, I’ve got another plan.”

“Let’s give her an hour,” Link signed to Paya, “do you want to spar? There’s nothing to salvage around here, unless you want to cut the grass looking for fairies.”

“Fairies live around here?” Paya asked.

“Kinda,” Link said, “we’re not too far from lynel territory – fairies will hide in the grass around there. I’m not really sure why.”

“Zelda,” Paya said, “will you be ok if we leave you here for a while to hunt a lynel or two?”

“Go for it,” Zelda said, waving a dismissive hand, her eyes shut, “I’ve got a bow and arrow.”

“Keep the Slate,” Link said, coming over to take it from her side. Zelda didn’t so much as flinch.

Every now and then, Link and Zelda would do or say something that reminded Paya of just how much history laid between them. For example, Link feeling comfortable enough with her to take the Sheikah Slate from her hip without asking. Also for example, Zelda feeling comfortable enough to allow Link to grab something from her hip without so much as twitching. Paya felt, in all honesty, just a little jealous. She was happy for them, of course, and Link was her birlfriend, but still she wished. . .

She wished that they could be that comfortable with her and vise versa.

Link took out a couple bottles and released a few fairies from the Slate. He offered the bottles to the fairies – Paya was frankly shocked that, after swirling around Link, they fairies entered the bottles willingly. One of them swayed away from them, flying in little loops up to settle on top of Zelda’s head. Link smiled and brought out another fairy from the Slate, who took to the last bottle without fuss. Link left the one making a home out of Zelda’s hair and flipped through the Sheikah Slate.

He pulled out a big, circular shield and a couple heavy swords; one was a massive black claymore, another was actually on fire, and the last two Paya recognized as a Yiga Blademaster’s Windcleaver and an Edge of Duality. He swung the shield on his back and laid out the swords on the ground. He took out a second, smaller shield and rested it against his leg before he re-clipped the Slate to Zelda’s hip.

“Where did you get these two?” Paya asked softly, reaching for the Windcleaver and Edge of Duality, though she didn’t dare touch either.

“Beat a Blademaster for that one,” Link said, pointing, “and a shrine has an Edge of Duality. I noticed that some of the shrines will regain weapons I’ve already gotten after a blood moon. This is one of them. Though, with the shrines gone, I’m going to have to find someone who can actually make these.”

“You’re not going to have a lot of luck,” Paya said, picking up the Edge of Duality to admire it. It was heavier than she expected, but otherwise it fit well in her hands. Why would an ancient Sheikah Shrine have an Edge of Duality? They were created a couple centuries ago, weren’t they? To aid Hyrulean Knights who couldn’t manage a single edged sword? “I’ll put out a couple feelers for Sheikah smiths.”

“Better save it for a good fight, then,” Link said.

Gon was supposed to be a smith.

Paya had almost forgotten about that. She had never been too close to the rest of her peers; it was always Chideh or Berri that she spent her time with. Gon’s whole family had defected together when Paya was ten or so. For all she knew, he was still with the Yiga.

If the Yiga had any sense, they wouldn’t be letting Gon and his family out to fight. Fighters were a dime a dozen. Quality blacksmiths took time and training. He was two years or so older than Paya, so he should be long finished with apprenticeship and on to doing his own work.

Actually. . .

“Can I see the Windcleaver?” Paya asked. Link handed it over.

Paya examined the blade, finding it unmarked. She turned it to peer at the handle. At the base of the hilt, the maker’s signature was carved into the small circle of free space. Paya sighed, eyes falling shut.

“What?” Link asked.

“My friend’s family made this blade,” Paya said, showing him the mark, “see? That’s almost proof that Gon’s alive.”

Link beamed. “Congrats.”

“Thanks,” Paya said with a little laugh. She handed over the blade, tried not to let herself linger on the hilt. Link put the Edge of Duality back into the Slate and instead took out what looked like a stick but was really some sort of ancient weapon. She’d seen him use them before.

He very carefully arranged his weapons on his body, each of them weighing down the harness he wore over his Hateno style clothing. Most of them hung by his waist, though Paya watched with no small amount of awe as he casually removed the Master Sword from the Slate and swung it over his shoulders, taking a place of honor between his shoulder blades. Was it just her, or was it pulsing?

“Alright,” Paya said as Link hung one of the fairy bottles from his belt and offered the other three to her. She carefully tucked the glass into her clothes.“We’re heading out now. Stay safe.”

“You too,” Zelda said, a little distantly.

“Will they break?” She asked as they walked.

“Not while the fairies are inside,” Link said, walking backwards through the knee-length grass to sign to her. “So don’t worry too hard about it. After they escape, just drop the bottle into the grass. We’ll pick them up after the fight.”

“Gotcha,” Paya said, feeling a little relieved. At least this way she didn’t have to worry about getting glass shrapnel stuck in her skin. “How do you even fight a lynel anyway?”

“You have to be careful of the timing,” Link told her, “I’ll keep an eye on you till you learn it. It’s -” his hands paused as he tilted his head.

Paya waited for him to finish thinking, scanning the area for the promised lynel they would be hunting. She couldn’t see anything over than the rippling fields and occasional orange-leafed trees and small vegetation. They were just coming up on top of a hill now. From here Paya could see the stable they’d completely passed (the East Akkala Stable, if she was remembering correctly) as well as Zelda’s small form in the distance, getting smaller as they walked.

One day, Zelda would be able to kiss Paya’s forehead without Paya staying awake for hours stuck on the thought of it. One day, Paya would be able to kiss Zelda on the lips and instead of it was going to be normal instead of the shock of a lifetime.