legend of zelda; w is for worried; link/zelda
Title: All Along The Watchtower
Author:
sheikah
Disclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to Legend of Zelda.
Fandom: Legend of Zelda
Medium: video game
Genre: gen
Pairing: Link/Zelda implied
Characters: Link, Zelda
Theme: W is for Worried
Rating: Everyone
Warnings: no
She lay ill in the castle tower, weakened by the dark plague that had swept across the land a month prior. Ganon was getting creative, that was certain, and the entire country lay in wait hoping and praying that the princess would come through such an illness without permanent harm. Hopes had sunk to an all-time low, however, when the castle doctor had come to the balcony for the weekly address twice—even at her sickest, the princess Zelda had come to her window to address her subjects even if she did not hold proper court.
Within the stone walls of the North Tower, Zelda tossed and turned feverishly amongst the sheets, cracked lips begging for water at times and at others, merely whimpering. Maids came and went, bathing the princess down and making sure that she did not want for anything, not that she could ask for much. She was soaked, her thin cotton chemise damp with the sweats from her fevers. The fever broke and returned more times than anyone could count, each break a false beacon of hope as the princess spiraled further and further into the dark of the sick.
Seventeen days into her illness, when most of hope was lost, a lone rider approached the castle. Since the princess had fallen ill and dark magic likely to blame since all of the other plague victims had long since healed, the castle gates had been shut to any and everyone who might approach. Negotiations between the Zoras and Gorons had been halted indefinitely and with surprising sympathy from the leaders of their camps. Somehow trade negotiations seemed petty and insignificant in the face of lingering, pale death.
However, this particular rider was not well known for following channels of protocol and, upon arriving at a closed castle gate, scaled the leafy trellis on the west wall of the castle. From there, he nimbly climbed across terraces and turrets until he arrived at a little used window in an old, dusty library. Link had never seen anyone in this particular library before and, true to form, there was nobody there today as he slipped inside and made his way through the stale room to the carpet-lined halls of the royal apartments. He had always thought it silly that a woman as relaxed as Zelda needed this much finery around her, but he suspected it was not really her choice.
Watching the nursemaids change shifts several times to get an idea of their patterns, he slipped in during what looked like afternoon tea. Zelda looked pale and small in the massive bed, her sickbed pallor made even more dramatic when contrasted with the rich, red velvet of her bedcovers and curtains. He slipped into a well-used chair nearest her bedside, preparing to keep a silent and watchful vigil while she slept, not that it would do anything to wake her.
He slipped off his heavy gauntlets and took one of her hands in his, shuddering at how heated she was. She must be miserable, he mused, rubbing over her hand with his thumb. Her lips parted a little in sleep, involuntarily searching out water or something else cool to soothe the fire within her. Link gently tipped water into her mouth and brushed her cheek as she swallowed. There had to be something he could do for her, something that would bring her back.
He continued the vigil for days and, after the initial shock on the face of the maid that had come after tea to tend her, he was generally accepted by Zelda's household staff. As he watched her suffer and waste away, he idly tended to the business in her stead and ensured that the kingdom would not have come down around her ears as she lay ill. He liked to think that Zelda would have been proud of him, quickly learning figures and the nuances of running a kingdom both politically and financially.
He was bent over those very figures and sums when she woke, sitting up in the bed and drawing her knees to her chest. "I see that a golden lord from another land has come to thieve my kingdom while I slumber," she teased, pushing her hair behind her ears and watching as Link dropped the parchment with the monthly budget on it and blushed bright red. She laughed, a weak and insipid little thing that reminded her of the ninnies in court, and extended a hand to clasp his gently.
"I know you have been tending to my affairs, dear Link, but I am afraid you will not be rid of me yet. I am not meant to be interred for years and years yet, Knight. It will be a cold day in Death Mountain when I go gently into that good night," she quipped, watching as he blushed even deeper. He stammered for a few moments, something about how he had no intentions of taking over her kingdom and how he had not even been named regent while she laid ill, but she silenced those protests with a finger against his lips.
"I want to thank you for your concern. Keeping a vigil at my bedside is hardly the work of a brave champion and it merely proves your devotion to me as a person as well as your devotion to Hyrule that you have done so. I am quite thankful, dear Link, and in a fashion that you will appreciate more than any ceremony, I would like to name you my Knight Protector."
Link's eyes widened. Zelda had never named a Knight Protector, naming the convention obsolete and a surefire way to cultivate jealousy in her ranks, but she had just now bestowed this title upon him, a title he was not sure he deserved, and he could do nothing but stare in awe. Much to his relief, the princess settled back into her bed and did not push the issue, did not compound it with more of her gentle touches and soothing voice.
It seemed she always found a way to make him worry, though he preferred worrying about this sort of dilemma than watch the woman he…loved? Yes. Loved. He preferred this sort of worry to worrying about the woman he loved dying, senselessly stolen by a magic-induced fever.
"I…I accept," he said gallantly, sweeping off his hat. Zelda kissed the top of his head with gentle lips, tucking his hair behind one long ear before pulling away.
"If only to ease your fretting over me," she teased, laughing. "If only."
"I am afraid I will only fret more, Milady," he said, regaining his footing and teasing her right back.
He was convinced that her laughter was the sweetest melody he had ever heard.
Author:
sheikahDisclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to Legend of Zelda.
Fandom: Legend of Zelda
Medium: video game
Genre: gen
Pairing: Link/Zelda implied
Characters: Link, Zelda
Theme: W is for Worried
Rating: Everyone
Warnings: no
She lay ill in the castle tower, weakened by the dark plague that had swept across the land a month prior. Ganon was getting creative, that was certain, and the entire country lay in wait hoping and praying that the princess would come through such an illness without permanent harm. Hopes had sunk to an all-time low, however, when the castle doctor had come to the balcony for the weekly address twice—even at her sickest, the princess Zelda had come to her window to address her subjects even if she did not hold proper court.
Within the stone walls of the North Tower, Zelda tossed and turned feverishly amongst the sheets, cracked lips begging for water at times and at others, merely whimpering. Maids came and went, bathing the princess down and making sure that she did not want for anything, not that she could ask for much. She was soaked, her thin cotton chemise damp with the sweats from her fevers. The fever broke and returned more times than anyone could count, each break a false beacon of hope as the princess spiraled further and further into the dark of the sick.
Seventeen days into her illness, when most of hope was lost, a lone rider approached the castle. Since the princess had fallen ill and dark magic likely to blame since all of the other plague victims had long since healed, the castle gates had been shut to any and everyone who might approach. Negotiations between the Zoras and Gorons had been halted indefinitely and with surprising sympathy from the leaders of their camps. Somehow trade negotiations seemed petty and insignificant in the face of lingering, pale death.
However, this particular rider was not well known for following channels of protocol and, upon arriving at a closed castle gate, scaled the leafy trellis on the west wall of the castle. From there, he nimbly climbed across terraces and turrets until he arrived at a little used window in an old, dusty library. Link had never seen anyone in this particular library before and, true to form, there was nobody there today as he slipped inside and made his way through the stale room to the carpet-lined halls of the royal apartments. He had always thought it silly that a woman as relaxed as Zelda needed this much finery around her, but he suspected it was not really her choice.
Watching the nursemaids change shifts several times to get an idea of their patterns, he slipped in during what looked like afternoon tea. Zelda looked pale and small in the massive bed, her sickbed pallor made even more dramatic when contrasted with the rich, red velvet of her bedcovers and curtains. He slipped into a well-used chair nearest her bedside, preparing to keep a silent and watchful vigil while she slept, not that it would do anything to wake her.
He slipped off his heavy gauntlets and took one of her hands in his, shuddering at how heated she was. She must be miserable, he mused, rubbing over her hand with his thumb. Her lips parted a little in sleep, involuntarily searching out water or something else cool to soothe the fire within her. Link gently tipped water into her mouth and brushed her cheek as she swallowed. There had to be something he could do for her, something that would bring her back.
He continued the vigil for days and, after the initial shock on the face of the maid that had come after tea to tend her, he was generally accepted by Zelda's household staff. As he watched her suffer and waste away, he idly tended to the business in her stead and ensured that the kingdom would not have come down around her ears as she lay ill. He liked to think that Zelda would have been proud of him, quickly learning figures and the nuances of running a kingdom both politically and financially.
He was bent over those very figures and sums when she woke, sitting up in the bed and drawing her knees to her chest. "I see that a golden lord from another land has come to thieve my kingdom while I slumber," she teased, pushing her hair behind her ears and watching as Link dropped the parchment with the monthly budget on it and blushed bright red. She laughed, a weak and insipid little thing that reminded her of the ninnies in court, and extended a hand to clasp his gently.
"I know you have been tending to my affairs, dear Link, but I am afraid you will not be rid of me yet. I am not meant to be interred for years and years yet, Knight. It will be a cold day in Death Mountain when I go gently into that good night," she quipped, watching as he blushed even deeper. He stammered for a few moments, something about how he had no intentions of taking over her kingdom and how he had not even been named regent while she laid ill, but she silenced those protests with a finger against his lips.
"I want to thank you for your concern. Keeping a vigil at my bedside is hardly the work of a brave champion and it merely proves your devotion to me as a person as well as your devotion to Hyrule that you have done so. I am quite thankful, dear Link, and in a fashion that you will appreciate more than any ceremony, I would like to name you my Knight Protector."
Link's eyes widened. Zelda had never named a Knight Protector, naming the convention obsolete and a surefire way to cultivate jealousy in her ranks, but she had just now bestowed this title upon him, a title he was not sure he deserved, and he could do nothing but stare in awe. Much to his relief, the princess settled back into her bed and did not push the issue, did not compound it with more of her gentle touches and soothing voice.
It seemed she always found a way to make him worry, though he preferred worrying about this sort of dilemma than watch the woman he…loved? Yes. Loved. He preferred this sort of worry to worrying about the woman he loved dying, senselessly stolen by a magic-induced fever.
"I…I accept," he said gallantly, sweeping off his hat. Zelda kissed the top of his head with gentle lips, tucking his hair behind one long ear before pulling away.
"If only to ease your fretting over me," she teased, laughing. "If only."
"I am afraid I will only fret more, Milady," he said, regaining his footing and teasing her right back.
He was convinced that her laughter was the sweetest melody he had ever heard.
