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sun-aries · 9 months

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Weathering the Storm (TP Zelink)

Here's one for the collection! Just some good ole angst for the soul!

Navy flags snapped atop their poles, the glass of the windows shook against the iron grates, and the rain pelted against the shingles of the roof: an unsteady rhythm that harmonized with the crackle of the firewood. It was the kind of night that left the queen reluctant to return home to her empty chambers.

But soon, her chambers wouldn’t be so empty anymore.

Zelda often wondered what it’d feel like, having him to come home to, to have his things mesh with hers, to crawl into bed beside him and see him dressed less than proper. Her face heated at the thought.

A long while had passed before he came to her study door, a knock so familiar under the weight of his hand that she knew it was him. At her clearance, Link entered with wet hair and a fresh set of clothes, but his boots were crusted with mud and flaking on the carpets. Training must’ve left him a mess during such a storm.

Unlike at his homestead in Ordon, knights didn't get to stay in on a rainy day. Instead, they worked twice as hard on the slick grounds and through the misty air. Needless to say, the knights were pushed to their limits and as second-in-command, Link was no exception.

“You look exhausted. You don’t want to turn in early?” She said this even though she selfishly wished he wouldn’t; she hadn’t seen him all day.

"Nah," he replied, but the tired undertone of his voice betrayed him. He'd had many worse days, of course, scouring through unforgiving temples and facing ruthless beasts. But a hard day was still a hard day, and even heroes were exhausted from time to time.

But now he had Zelda to return to, and after a nice hot bath, he was just glad to be back in her company. She was perched on the sofa before the fire, with her frayed blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a poetry book open in her palms. Her pale blue eyes were more radiant than the firelight, her small smile warmer than its heat.

The sofa shifted as he slumped into it and the fragrance from his bath oils filled the air. She set the small book aside and lifted the old blanket a touch higher. “Are you cold?”

His face stilted with a fluster. There was a pause before he smiled and carefully scooted closer. Warmth washed through him instantly, but it wasn’t from the blanket. Instead, it was the steady pressure of her shoulder and the accidental brush of her thigh against his. He often wondered what she thought of in a tender moment like this. Did it fluster her too?

Zelda turned her gaze back to the fire; though they were solemn, her eyes sparkled in the flitting flames, and her brown hair spilled over her shoulders, soft and dark in the shadows but gleaming like melted gold in the firelight.

His fingers found the frayed edges of the blanket and fixed it over his other shoulder. “Where’d you get this blanket?”

Zelda tensed. It didn’t seem like much of a question in his head but when he said it out loud, it fell heavy on the room like he’d dropped a brick in a still pond.

They were weeks away from marriage now. But there was still much about one another that they didn’t know: her status as queen had urged them to marry sooner, after all. It wasn’t typically a problem, especially on evenings like these where they could fill the silence with conversation.

But his question felt heavy in a way he hadn’t prepared for. He quickly threw more words out as if it’d ease the tension. “It seems like your favorite. Is it your baby blanket?”

She opened her mouth but nothing came from it. Instead, her pale eyes glazed over, going distant to a place he couldn’t follow. It took a moment for her to say, “No.” There was another pause, long and drawn out, where he thought she might leave it there. But instead Zelda said, “It’s from the tower.”

His mouth fell open then, the word “Oh,” slipping out without him really meaning to say it. It was a sensitive topic, and he’d never intentionally broached it. He’d seen the scars that riddled her body, fading into the smoothness of her skin; he’d heard her voice quiver with an uncharacteristic vulnerability when she spoke of it. “I’m sor-”

“It’s okay,” she interjected, clearly anticipating the apology. “It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t. Her fear still festered. It was in the screech of an iron door and the thud of heavy footsteps and the menacing torchlight pouring through a door or the raise of a hand or a voice. It was in the fall of twilight, when darkness dampened her contentment like a snuffer smothering a candle, and all she had was her blanket to shelter in.

Some irrational part of her was ashamed: thinking how foolish it was for the bearer of wisdom to be afraid of something that’s done and gone, or how inelegant it was for a queen to cower under her blanket at any unexpected noise. But until recently, she’d had the fortune of not disclosing it to anyone, of being alone at the worst of it in the privacy of her bedchambers.

Whether Link understood why or not, he’d already seen her flinch upon awakening in the desert. He’d learned that she’d suffered at the guard’s hands in the tower – and at times, she was certain he was just as fragile at the fall of night. She could share this with him.

“It’s just…one of the few things that brought me comfort. I couldn’t bear parting with it. When the time came to reconstruct the tower, I took it with me.”

Link’s hand fell on hers, sending that familiar trill from the Triforce rolling up her arm, and she suddenly realized she’d been tugging at a loose thread. “I get that,” he said; his voice had been so absent from the room that it almost startled her. But it brought her comfort instead. “I kept everything I found too.”

A skittish smile tugged at her lips. “You do have quite a bit of treasures.” When they worked out the logistics of it, he admitted he didn’t have much to bring when he’d move into her chambers. But he had a rather large trunk of odds and ends that he couldn’t seem to part with, one that started to gather dust in the back of his own closet.

He smiled sheepishly. “What else brought you comfort?”

She paused, giving his question a fair deal of thought before answering, “You,” she said. “And Midna of course. Knowing you were both defending this kingdom gave me a great deal of comfort. More than anything, for that matter.”

Guiltily, her words made his heart skip a beat. It killed him to think that she'd suffered all along, that he'd never considered it or done anything about it. They'd left her in the tower, thinking foolishly that she was safe there - as a princess ought to be - and carried on, while she stayed back and anticipated the inevitable abuse from the guard only steps away from her door.

And yet there was a strange consolation in knowing that Zelda thought of him – that thinking of him comforted her, even at the darkest of times. She’d relied on them to save the kingdom and at least in that he hadn’t failed her.

Looking down at their joined hands, he brushed her knuckles idly. “I thought about you too…” he admitted. “Me and Midna would talk about you a lot.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, she’d bring you up out of nowhere, but other times it was like she knew you were on my mind…” He shook his head, eyes fallen downcast, and when the fluster rekindled on his cheeks, he rose his bare hand to scratch it. “But I always worried about you. I just wish -”

She stopped him suddenly with a soft but firm kiss on his cheek. His hand froze against his face, eyes wide and staring blankly at the tapestry over her shoulder. Her lips lingered against his red hot skin; her breath filtered through her lips and carried to the hollow of his ear. “Wish nothing. You saved me.”

Her words sent his hand moving on its own accord, before he even realized that he’d broken free of his stupor, and thread into her hair, grasping her head and drawing her into an embrace. His face buried into her shoulder, catching whiff of her warm, familiar smell and holding it in his throat like it was something tangible.

“You’re safe now,” he agreed, his voice hitched with his breath, but she’d shuddered in his arms as he said it. It was a reminder – half-spoken to himself – a vow abridged to the ones they’d speak at the altar only weeks later.

When she regained some strength, she drew back far enough to find his eyes, alight with firelight - and maybe also his assertion, and said, “I know.”

#aries writes #BMTR #tp zelink #twilight princess #zelink #zelda and link #tp zelink fanfic #tp zelink fic #zelink fanfic #loz fic #tp link #tp zelda #princess zelda #twilight princess zelink #twilight princess link #twilight princess zelda #zelink fic

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liv-andletdie · 9 months

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Interest check? Idk how many people here read Puppy Love (a modern au TP Zelink fic) when it first came out in 2018, but! I’m currently working on the sequel rn and I was curious to see if anyone would still be interested in the Puppy Love series 5 years later.

#zelink #tp zelink #tp zelink fanfic #tp zelda #tp link #puppy love #idk help me

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tired-twili · 1 year

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New chapter B)

Huge thanks to @le-fou-a-l-orignal my beta, ily mate 🫶 you get the depth of these two (that depth being Link's a gremlin and Zelda's hot)

#sprinkling trauma onto Link like hes a sugar cookie #twi stepped on the keyboard #legend of zelda #zelink #zelink fanfiction #tp zelink #tp zelink fanfic #loz #zelda #twilight princess

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embyrinitalics · 11 months

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Have a fun little prompt:

TP Zelda gets a dog. Link is unimpressed. She calls the dog Link. Chaos ensues.

That's it. That's the prompt.

— Replaced —

“What is that?”

“The latest taxation proposition for Lanayru province.”

“Not that. That.”

The queen set the top page of her report aside, not deigning to glance beneath her desk.

“It’s a dog.”

“Yes. But what is it doing here?”

“It’s mine.”

The captain of the guard waited a beat. She turned another page.

“You got a dog.”

“Yes.”

“May I ask why?”

“Dogs are good companion animals.”

He folded his arms, frowning at it. It laid down and folded its paws, unmoved.

“And why do you need a companion animal?”

“You seem needlessly fixated, Sir Link.”

“You’re avoiding the question, Your Majesty.”

“Why? Does it pose a threat to my security?”

“It’s unlike you.”

“Not so. I’ve always liked dogs. And companion animals can be very soothing.”

“You already have—”

Her eyes met his at the same time his teeth met each other. Her gaze lingered, and he strategically uncrossed his arms. Beneath the desk, the dog sniffed.

She turned another page.

“Did you have something for me?”

He did. He fished the envelope out of his breast pocket and stepped closer to hold it out to her across her workspace. She reached for her letter opener and sliced it neatly down the seam, and he let his eyes drift down near his boots and bared a tooth.

“Thank you,” she said, and leaned back in her chair to read.

It was as polite a dismissal as he was liable to get. He saw himself out, glancing back from the shadow of the door.

The dog looked smug.

⬫⬫⬫⬫

The delegation arriving that afternoon was large, and the staff had been agitated as a cucco swarm seeing to the last minute preparations. Fortunately, the captain had some experience with cuccos, and was adroit enough to stay out of the way as he oversaw the finishing touches on the security measures.

One of the kitchen maids, sheen on her forehead and pink on her cheeks, came out of the dining room with a platter big as a Hylian shield balanced against her shoulder. The frustration on her face melted a bit when she met his eyes, giving way to an exhausted half-smile.

“Hello, Captain,” she said, breathless, and he nodded.

“Miss Tilly.”

“No room for a fourth platter of bouchées,” she sighed, dragging her wrist against her brow. Her eyes sparkled beneath. “These’ll have to go back down.”

“Pity,” he said.

She plucked an hors d'oeuvres from the top of the arrangement and held it out for him.

“Care to lighten my load?”

The pastry hovered between them a moment—unassuming, bite sized, glistening with eggwash—before his fingers finally lifted along with the corners of her mouth.

If anyone knew how to tempt the otherwise impervious captain of the guard, it was the kitchen staff.

He was halfway to biting into it when the queen’s voice, raised, urgent, startled him so badly he pulled it out from under his teeth and whipped his head aside.

“Link, no!”

A blue-eyed shepherd bounded down the hallway like a shot and back up again, twirling a circle by the trailing queen’s skirts and hopping a bit until he pulled a smile out of her. He let his tongue loll out and pranced at her heel as she walked.

The captain’s teeth hadn’t quite found their way back to each other.

“You—” he started, and then closed his mouth at her sudden, innocent attention.

She waited, elegant. He tried again, off kilter.

“You named the dog Link?”

“It’s a heroic name,” she reasoned, fingers feathering the silky top of his head, and Link preened. “Don’t you agree?”

Miss Tilly ducked her head and scurried off, hiding her toothy smile very poorly.

The captain shoved the whole pastry in his mouth and stomped off.

⬫⬫⬫⬫

The queen brought Link to the reception.

He was bouncy and very good at manipulating his eyebrows to swindle the guests out of treats. He was light enough on his dainty paws that he stayed out from under the foot traffic, and small enough that he could slip under tables with ease. The Zora also found him novel and charming, which made absolutely no sense.

His good behavior did not keep the captain from glaring at him whenever they crossed paths.

After dinner the queen stayed up late entertaining and listening to informal presentations of the Zora’s concerns. Link laid at her feet, occasionally offering his chin and ears for scratches. The captain of her guard stood stationed at the far end of the room, where he could keep an eye on all the entrances and wouldn’t eavesdrop.

It was his usual spot at functions like these. But tonight he felt leashed up outside.

When the guests had finally gone to bed, the queen glided towards her chambers, trailed by two shadows. It was a sleepy procession. And as the delegation was staying for the better part of a week, there would be more of them. The dog whined.

“You poor thing,” she murmured, reaching down to stroke his chin. “You haven’t had your supper yet.”

Neither had the captain. But he refrained from whining about it.

They reached her room and the queen went inside. Link followed, nails dragging noisily on the carpet, but stopped wedged in the doorway to look pointedly over his shoulder. The captain felt his hackles raising.

“Was there something else?”

“Nothing else, Your Majesty. Get some rest.”

“You as well,” she nodded, swallowing a yawn. “Come to bed, Link.”

The dog trailed her inside, making a beeline for her mattress.

When the door closed, the captain bristled so hard he felt the need to shake down to his tail.

⬫⬫⬫⬫

The next few days were more of the same: crowded meals that lasted for hours, long walks through the castle grounds speckled with talks, and tired evenings brimming with wine. The queen’s captain and her dog liked each other less and less.

The last morning of the visit, nerves frayed, tension wound tight, Link growled when the captain wandered too close to the queen’s desk, and without thinking the captain bared his teeth.

“Link!” she scolded, and they both flinched, tails tucked.

The envoy met with her one last time for what was sure to be a long negotiation, and the captain took the opportunity to attend to some pressing business.

He snatched the dog by the collar and dragged him, nails scuffing everywhere, to a broom closet, and locked them both in. He changed, and the dog screamed.

“OH GODS! WOLF! WOLF! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

“Stop barking! Stop—shut up, shut up!”

Link hesitated from where he had reared back on his haunches, breath puffing and chest fluttering, before he took an uncertain sniff. The whites of his eyes receded a bit, his forepaw meeting the ground and his nose drifting closer as he investigated. And then his eyes—as much as a dog’s eyes can—rolled.

“Oh. It’s you.”

The wolf let his lip curl, and while Link’s ears drooped, he planted his paws and raised himself a little taller, not to be intimidated.

“Let’s have it out,” the captain growled, “before this becomes an issue for her.”

“Well I certainly have nothing to apologize for,” he snuffed. “I’ve been nothing but well behaved!”

“You took a snap at me under her desk this morning.”

“You were asking for it.”

If the captain had a palm to drag across his face, he would’ve. Instead he pinned his ears down and huffed, glowering, “The safety of the queen and her household are my responsibility. You don’t need to like me. I don’t need to like you. But I am going to protect her. So stay out of my way.”

Link snorted. “That’s what she keeps you around for? Protection?”

“At least she has use for me. I can’t fathom why she’s kept you as long as she has.”

“Because I am the best boy. And the goodest boy. And the prettiest boy—”

“All right, shut up, shut up.”

He planted his tail on the ground, trying to think. It swished like an irritated metronome.

Link’s ears perked, head tilting and eyes going horribly wide with realization.

“You’re jealous!”

The wolf sneered. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It all makes sense now. You’ve been unwelcoming from the moment I arrived. And at first I thought, Perhaps he’s one of those unpleasant people who simply doesn’t like dogs—insufferable, yes, but mostly harmless. But it couldn’t be clearer now what this is about: territory.”

“The queen is not territory.”

“But the place beside her throne? At the foot of her bed? Those certainly are, and I’ve never seen you in any of them.”

Link put on his best smug face. The captain entertained thoughts of cleaving his head clean off his shoulders.

“So, what did you do to get yourself ousted?”

“I haven’t been ousted.”

“Fine. Replaced.”

“I haven’t been—!”

“Well you must’ve done something wrong. How else do you explain my arrival? Were you too noisy? Too big? Too intimidating? Do you give subpar cuddles?”

His eyes narrowed. “The queen and I have never cuddled.”

Link looked mortified. “How can you even be a lapdog and not give cuddles?”

“I was never her lapdog! I’m her head of security!”

He hesitated.

“She does… know you’re a dog, yes?”

The wolf huffed again. “Yes, she knows.”

“Because I’ve never seen you like this in front of her before. And we’re mostly inseparable.”

“It’s been a while,” he grumbled.

“But you used to.”

One of his ears went sideways.

“And you liked it.”

Both of his ears went sideways.

Link beamed. “Doesn’t she give just the best scratches?”

“Listen, lapdog,” the wolf snapped, teeth meeting loudly, and Link shrank back against the wall. “The point is we’re stuck working together, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it. Deal with it.”

“You could ask for reassignment.”

He snarled, “Excuse me?”

“You can talk to her,” he explained, reaching with his back paw to scratch an itch. It made his collar twirl. “Tell her things. I envy you that, though I do a fairly good job of getting what I want besides. But you could tell her you don’t want to be her head of security anymore. Tell her you’d rather be a lapdog instead.”

“I don’t want to be her lapdog!”

“You just want to be closer to her.”

The wolf’s ears pinned back and his lips curled. “Why am I even having this conversation with you?”

“Because you locked us in a closet!”

His growl rumbled so low the brooms rattled.

He waited.

So did Link.

Finally, he murmured, “I can’t tell her that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

Link tilted his head at him again.

“Is that common among humans? They can’t say what they want?”

“I’d say so.”

He considered that a moment. Then he glanced up at him, eyebrows quirked.

“I think you’re dense.”

The wolf looked suddenly ravenous, but Link was unbothered.

“You’ve been outside wolfshape for too long, Captain. What do your senses tell you?”

That made him hesitate. He sniffed reflexively. “I don’t follow.”

“She got a dog to keep her company. With blue eyes. She named me after you. And you think you’re the only one who isn’t saying what he wants?” Link did his dog impression of an eye roll again. “Let me out of here. Your stupid might be contagious.”

The wolf blinked at him. “I’m going to let that go.”

“Well you know what else I think—”

The captain shifted, fur and teeth and claws melting back into softer shapes. The dog in the broom closet with him yapped incomprehensibly for another five seconds.

He smirked, “I think I like you better like this.”

⬫⬫⬫⬫

That night, when the door to her boudoir opened, the wrong sort of animal stepped through.

The queen looked up from her book from her seat on the couch. A wolf stared back.

After a beat he set his jaw, crossed the room with purpose, and dropped his snout into her lap.

Her lips twitched. The weight of his head didn’t let up in the slightest; if anything, her hesitation only made him sag harder.

“Link,” she murmured, carefully lifting one hand to trace a slow line from between his eyes to between his ears. “What have you done with my dog?”

I ate him, he thought smugly.

Her fingers dug a little deeper, and he leaned shamelessly into it. Because she gave excellent scratches.

“It’s not really appropriate for me to be overly familiar with my staff,” she mused, fingers sliding down, down, toward that spot behind his jaw. He stretched his neck to help her reach. Her smile turned pensive, and then faded just a little. “And even if I wanted to, that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone. It isn’t easy to say no to the queen.”

That’s sweet, Your Majesty, but I can handle myself.

She smoothed the fur around his ears, as though she’d mussed it. The wolf looked up at her out of fluted blue eyes, waiting. Expectant, more than hesitant. It made a smirk twist at her lips.

“It does get lonely, though,” she admitted. “Which is why I got myself a dog.”

Right. Because you didn’t already have one.

The wolf sniffed. He lifted his head from her lap and circled the couch, calculating, and then leapt onto the cushion beside hers with great care and laid down, tucking his legs so he’d fit. He plopped his head meaningfully on her shoulder.

“I can’t very well get rid of him now,” she argued.

He pushed his nose into her neck, and then wriggled to press in with his chest, encroaching as much as possible.

“Link,” she complained, puffing fur away from her mouth. “You’re too big.”

He only had two shapes to choose from, and wasn’t sure she’d be much happier with the other one. But neither was he about to call off his offensive after he’d come this far.

He shifted in a flurry of shadows. His elbow was planted on the camelback behind her shoulder, his temple planted on his fist. He was still very much in her personal space.

She arched an eyebrow, but made no move to pull away. He tested the waters, drifting closer. Her eyes twinkled, the way only hers could, and the grin that spread over his lips was probably too wolfish.

“I know a ranch in Ordona that would love a shepherd.”

On ao3 | masterlist

#Twilight Princess #Zelink #fanfic #Replaced #TP Zelda gets a dog #Link is unimpressed #fic request #mrmilktrayman14 #LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO YOU CRAZIES I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY!!!1!#THIS WON THE POLL YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE #also Link the Dog is an Australian shepherd #just in case anyone was dying to know that 😂#Zelink promptly #embyr writes

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writingnocturne · 3 months

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ZelinkTines

Day 3 - Reunion

OoT Zelink & TP Zelink (TP Ending)

Link and Zelda have at last defeated Ganondorf. With this, a lingering memory in their soul may finally move on and live anew.

Word Count: 855

Rating: T

I've had this idea for a while, and I'm hoping I did it justice... :')

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sparrowsworkshop · 5 months

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"Don't You Worry" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: Twilight Princess, Post-Canon, Zelink, Link & Epona, Fluff, POV Epona, Trust Issues, Retrospective

Summary: Epona notes Zelda's nervousness around Link, and thinks it is undeserved. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! Hey listen, have a TP Zelda song rec since you're here :) ~

Epona knew her master’s hands. Link’s pull on the reins was never harsh, never hasty. She could not say the same for Fado; that man meant well, but, while occupied with counting the goats they were herding, he always clutched the reins too tightly, putting too much pressure on the bit. Nor would she say the same for the children she loved; whether nervous about being up too high on her back, or simply so confident to be up so high, they would cling to her mane with fervor. Talo especially held a habit of jerking.

When the Bulbins had taken her, they roughhoused her more than even Talo could have. She did not appreciate the rough talons that cut into her skin while they wrestled a coarsely woven bridle over her head and clamped their harshest bit, perhaps better fit for a boar, over her tongue. She did not like the feel of their hands on her reins, as they yanked her hither and yon with no care for her own sense of direction. To them, she was only a vehicle that carried them from one point to the next. She had been glad to break free of their stiff, demanding control.

When her master found her again, his touch was as welcome as a summer breeze from Farore. Gentle, and soothing, and steady, and sure. He guided her, but did not force her; he let her go her own way, but tugged her away from distractions as necessary, ensuring they arrived at their required destination.

Epona knew her master’s hands. She had spent countless years of her life helping Link plow the fields, tote the crops, haul the firewood. She knew the firm kindness by which he brushed her coat, the quiet strength by which he mucked the barn, the fond tenderness by which he patted the goats. Even when the herd got ornery, and he had to wrestle a wayward, bleating fugitive back to the ranch, Link’s might never lost its meekness. Epona knew her master’s hands, and she knew they were trustworthy.

Why was it, then, that the princess of Hyrule seemed nervous of the hand offered unto her?

Glancing back over her withers, Epona shook her mane and waited. For how long the princess had hesitated to receive the gift, it was as if Link had offered a writhing snake instead of a shimmering tiger lily.

The forest whispered a patient breeze to pass the time, while the ever traipsing brook muffled any conversation between the two. Epona swished her tail in warning as a fly droned by. Thankfully, it did not land.

Movement at last caught Epona’s eye. The princess finally accepted the gift, though she received it not in her hands, but in her hair, as the giver—her Hero—carefully reached upwards and tucked the flower behind her ear. No, Epona thought, the princess’ hands were meant to receive something greater than that lovely gift. After all, Link was reaching out once again, and this time, there was no hesitation; the princess let her hand rest in his.

Epona’s ears flicked forward. While she watched in excitement, the two began to wander, their footsteps drifting towards the water that danced with dappled sunlight.

Yes, anyone skittish could discover the truth, even the very princess of Hyrule.

Her master’s gentle hands could always be trusted. ~

#thanks for reading!#epona #link #zelda #twilight princess #tp zelink #zelink #zelda fanfic #tloz fanfic #post canon #fluff #sparrow fics #don't you worry #oneshot #loz fanfic #loz #tloz tp

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dubiiousfood · 3 months

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Link and Zelda enjoy some time away from the business and responsibilities in the castle and take the oppertunity to spend time at Ordon, giving them time to simply love each other, play with the kids and enjoy the peaceful lifestyle at Link's hometown.

#link #zelda #legend of zelda #zelink #twilight princess #zelda fanfiction #link is a dork #tooth rotting fluff #fluff #tp zelda has feelings ok?#tp zelda #Ordon #zelda fanfic #queen zelda #cuddles #breath of the wild #couple cuddling #fireplace

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zelink5ever · 9 months

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One more entry for Zelink Week 2023, for the prompt “In Another Life.”

Link travels outside of Ordon for the first time in his life to go to Hyrule and give a gift to the royal family. He never imagines he might actually meet the princess. Or: Twilight Princess AU where the twilight part never happens.

I've been obsessed with this idea for literally years: Link was already on his way to see the princess even before anything ever called him to it. Thanks to Zelink Week 2023, I finally got around to writing something for it! @zelinkcommunity

#zelink week 2023 #zelink fanfiction #zelink fanfic #twilight princess #tp zelink #link #zelda #tp link #tp zelda #mine

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ladyhoneydee · 6 months

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30 Day Song(fic) Challenge: Day 1

Today’s fic for my homebrew Song(fic) Challenge is for the prompt “favorite album opener”, and I just had to go with the song “State of Grace” by Taylor Swift, for her album “Red”! The drums and guitar bring on a sensation of motion and autumn that is perfect for the rest of the album, in my opinion.

a gentle wildness

Game: Twilight Princess, post-canon

Pairing: Zelink

Word Count: 817

Keywords: introspection, healing, romantic

“Even if she were to have the gift of prophecy, as ancestresses past had held, she never would have seen him coming.”

Read the fic on Ao3, or under the cut!

She’d been told the stories before she was old enough to walk.

A princess would be born in a castle—that’s you!—and she would be filled with so much goodness and light that it would drizzle from her fingers like raindrops off of a forest leaf. She would sing and the birds would sing back; she would speak and the people would remove their hats just to hear her words a little more clearly. She would grow strong and beautiful and virtuous and full of glory, glory, and she would raise her kingdom—why wasn’t it a Queendom, if she had the blood of the gods? hush now, that’s just not how the story goes—to even greater heights, while she waited for the clouds of evil to cover the sun.

But she wouldn’t be alone. Because a hero would be born, and he would emerge from the town next to the castle—or a small village on the coast!—or from the hamlet home of a family of royal guardsmen—or the mists of an ancient forest!—and he would walk to the castle with the wind on his back, and he would take her hand, and the gale of his might would drive away the darkening clouds.

She had been carefully coached on the course her life would take. It was truly unfortunate that she had failed at every turn.

Life? Or death?!

And the sword had clattered to the marble floor with the metallic toll of a funeral bell.

Midna…I believe I understand now just who and what you are…

And the light she had so diligently clutched to her chest—even after her own body had vanished in twilight and she had crafted a facsimile so convincing even a feral wolf might stand down in awe—flowed freely from her palms and into the weak frame of a truly beautiful soul, leaving her emptier than a cracked glass.

It stood to reason that the man who came to her aid would be different than the stories had told her, as well.

A shepherd. A keeper of flocks, a defender of the weak. A man who had learned the bow to hunt wild rabbits and deer before he ever aimed it between the eyes of a bokoblin; a man who had learned the sword to please his father and entertain his brother, despite neither being a blood relation. He had come to her not tall and strong with the wind at his back, but furred and frenzied with a imp resting upon it; and he had returned to her again with a whine on his tongue and a begging tail between his legs and the imp on his back gone inky blue with pooling blood and shadow beneath her skin; and he had taken her hand like an equal when at last she saw him on two legs rather than four.

He may have been blessed by the goddesses, but there was not a hint of their marble polish in his touch. His was a gentle wildness all his own.

Even if she were to have the gift of prophecy, as ancestresses past had held, she never would have seen him coming.

They had both been wrecked by the fallout of a kingdom crumbled. They bonded over hearts shattered into mosaics, like the mirror of their mutual beloved. Each night, she put herself to bed while tremulously imagining his room empty in the next morning’s light, and the door swinging on its hinges, as he returned where he belonged. Each noon, he took lunch with her in her office, and ferried papers from her desk to her council and back, and looked upon her with such steadfastness she thought she might be sick.

She was the most warlike queen in an age. Her accuracy with her bow was greater than even the deadliest of her sharpshooters; she trained with a rapier until only the hero could best her. She incorporated armor into her daily dress, so that if she were ever trapped in her throne room again, she could fight her way out without the need to risk everything precious to her. She entered the council room with a savage grace that spoke her determination to do right by her people without a word lilted from her tongue.

And yet, when he led her by the hand to a quiet room, and four blue eyes and two pairs of chapped lips met in the heartbeat-silence, that armor came crashing down with the wave of the greatest joy she’d ever tasted.

She had been born to rule with a hand of gold, with her word law writ upon stone. She led instead with scarred palms and an open heart and a grace that came not from the skies above, but was cultivated within.

She walked forward into twilight and daybreak alike with love, a man of gentle wildness at her side.

#loz #zelink #my fanfiction #tp zelink #fanfic #loz fanfic #30 day song(fic) challenge

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bahbahhh · 1 year

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Still chipping away at the follower milestone fan art nominations. A quick sketch from the opening scene from Untranslatable Words by @zeldadiarist. This fic nominated by @silentprincess17. It is a really lovely TP zelink fic that showcases a quiet, sweet moment between Zelda and Link. I hope you enjoy!

#bahbahhhart #bahbahhh200 #zelink fanart #fanfic rec #zelink #legend of zelda twilight princess #twilight princess #loz #loz tp #legend of zegend

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telemna-hyelle · 2 years

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The Ways to Heal a Heart (Zelink week Day seven: Healing)

...so. I finally finished this. We're wrapping up with Twilight Princess Zelink!

I hope it was worth the wait <3

..........................

Link first appeared in her office just over a month after Ganondorf's defeat, an ache in his eyes and a restlessness in his feet.

Zelda knew why.

She, too, was feeling the absence of a dear friend, though she guessed the pain she felt at the loss of Midna was nothing compared to what Link felt at the shattering of the bond between hero and companion... and, Zelda sometimes wondered, quite possibly something more.

"Ordon... is home." He'd said, slowly, haltingly, trying to explain as much as his heart would allow, "But Hyrule is too, now. And I know the Twilight invasion left a lot of damage."

He scuffed a foot on Zelda's carpet. "I guess... I feel responsible somehow. I want... I need to do something. Is there someplace that needs help?" He rubbed the back of his neck and sent her a tentative look. "I thought if anyone would know, it'd be you, Princess."

Zelda didn't point out that the proper way to address her was your highness, and neither did she admit that she knew the unspoken reason Link was coming to her. He needed something to do, to distract him from the bleeding wound that Midna had torn in his life.

Instead, she pulled out a letter she had received several days before and said, "The mountains to the north of Kakariko have been reporting a higher population of monsters. My guess is that they've been congregating as they flee, banding together for safety in numbers."

She handed him the letter, smiling kindly. "I think a hero's help would be very much appreciated."

Link took the letter, looked at it for a moment, and then looked up, sending Zelda a grateful smile before hastily bowing and charging out the door.

Zelda was left sitting alone in her office, a twinge of unease flickering through her.

She had not liked the way her heart had reacted to that smile.

•◇•◇•◇•

Link was good at what he does, so the distraction of the bokoblins in the mountains lasted little longer than a week. Then he was back in her office, hoping for a new task. Zelda smiled, and sent him to take on an lizalfos infestation in Zora's domain, trying to ignore the feeling his grateful smile stirred in her heart again.

Then that was done, and she sent him to help rebuild homes near the borders of Faron Woods. That kept him a bit longer, but after a month and a little more he was back at her office again.

This continued for over a year, and Zelda began to notice several distressing patterns.

First of all, the average amount of time Link spent on each of his missions was impressively shorter than it had been a year ago. This Zelda assumed, was the natural result of the constant whetting of his skills and stamina, indicative of his growing prowess as a hero. Of course, normally Zelda would consider a positive thing, except for the fact that she was rapidly running out of missions to send him on consistently.

There was also the fact that he started showing up hurt. At first it was simple things. A still healing cut on his forehead, a bandage on his arm, a bruise on his cheek. But proportionally to the decrease of time spent on missions, the amount of injuries (and their severity) seemed to increase. Zelda found herself very distressed by this. Link seemed to notice this stress, and began taking great pains to hide his more severe injuries in an attempt to spare her stress.

This, unfortunately, had the opposite of the intended effect, and increased it instead.

Zelda felt as if she was spiraling, dragged down a whirlpool of constant worry by her foolish heart, which had decided to latch itself onto the hero.

Zelda sighed, leaning forward from where she sat at her desk, closing her eyes and rubbing at her throbbing temples.

Poems might sing the praises of such a state, but in Zelda's experience, love brought nothing more exhilarating than a headache.

Though, she thought ruefully, that might have been solely due to her choice of men happening to be a reckless idiot... who was in love with someone else.

She chuckled, and it tasted bitter on her tongue.

So much for being the personification of Wisdom.

She forcefully sucked in a sharp breath, shook her head once to dispel the thoughts dripping of guilt and pain, and stood up from her desk.

What she needed right now was a cup of tea, a warm fire, and a good book.

•◇•◇•◇•

She had scarely pulled the blanket over her shoulders and settled into her favorite chair when the knock came at the door of her study.

Zelda paused, cup of tea halfway to her lips, and let out a sigh.

A Queen's work was never done.

She set the cup of tea down on the sideboard and went to the door, pulling on her business face before she opened it.

There was a servant on the other side, viciously twisting her apron as she waited. The instant the door was open her face showed a distressing mixture of relief and worry, and she burst out, "Oh, your majesty! You have to come quickly!"

Zelda blinked, some premonition of concern clutching at her heart. "What's wrong?"

"It's the hero--you have to come to the infirmary right away!"

For a moment, the world went silent, and all Zelda could think was I knew this would happen.

But as it often seemed, being right brought her no comfort.

•◇•◇•◇•

She didn't remember running through her castle, but she did remember burrsting through the door of the infirmary, her chest tight with dual vise of panic and breathlessness.

The doctor was bent over the bed, and she could see a figure there, partialy obscured behind the man tending him. What was all too clear was the bowls full of water, stained redder than wine, and the piles of filthly cloths on the side table, equally crimson.

There was a burning building behind her eyes, but she could not succumb to it, not now.

The doctor's head turned at the sound of the door, and at the sight of Zelda, he smiled.

"He's asleep, now, but he should wake soon."

Zelda stared, her head feeling light, taking a few steps into the room, feeling as shaky as a newborn foal trying to stand. "Then, the hero--"

"Will be just fine." He said, his voice calm and reassuring. "He responded well to the potion, despite the amount of blood he lost, and should be right as rain in the morning. He expended a lot of energy getting here, however, so he'll need a bit of rest."

He bowed, and moved past Zelda to the door. He paused in the doorway, adjusted his spectacles, and sent Zelda a warm, reassuring glance. "I'll leave you two alone now, your majesty."

•◇•◇•◇•

It was hours before Link woke up, hours in which Zelda sat in the chair by his bedside, thoughts whirling through her head with the speed of his boomerang. In that time she had come to a resolution.

It was late in the evening, the melancholy orange-gold of twilight coloring the windowpanes, when Link finally stirred, his eyes fluttering open and his fingers reflexively squeezing on Zelda's hand.

He blinked several times, seemed to focus in on Zelda, and smiled. "Hello, princess."

She could have pointed out that she was Queen, now, but she didn't. Instead she pulled her hand away from his and folded it primly on her lap.

A faint look of dismay seemed to cross Link's face, though he shoved it away rather swiftly, replacing it with another smile as he sat up, leaning agains the pillows. Zelda wondered if he sensed the discussion she was about to begin, but she would not be dissuaded. It had to be said.

"This cannot go on, Link," she said, pleased with her tone--firm, yet gentle, and fully disguising the aching tremble that lurked threateningly in her throat.

Link blinked, his smile faltering. He swallowed hard, and nodded, turning his head to one side. "I--I thought it would have to end. Someday."

Zelda let out a little sigh of relief, glad that he was open to seeing reason, despite the fact of what it might mean.

"I am sorry," she said, unable to resist the urge to reach out and lay a hand on his. "I know this must be very difficult for you."

He sent a swift glance down at her hand, and shrugged stiffly. "I'll be all right, I always am. I'll manage somehow."

Zelda's heart ached, so she squeezed his hand a little to add emphasis to what she had to say. " 'Managing, somehow' is how you got into this situation, Link. Don't you know that you don't have to push through this alone?"

There was a moment of silence.

Link looked at her, then down at their hands, and then at her again. "...what?"

Zelda's temple throbbed a bit. Was he trying to throw her off? She wouldn't let him, however! She was his friend and she refused to stand by and watch him get himself killed.

She straightened her shoulders, steeling herself for what she had to say next. "I know that losing Midna still pains you, but there are healthier ways to deal with that than throwing yourself into misison after mission so recklessly."

Link stared at her.

She swallowed hard, glacing to one side, and forced herself to draw her hand away. "I know you still love her, and I'm sorry I can't do anything to help, but I won't stand by and let you put yourself in so much danger so you don't have to think--"

Link's hand grabbed hers, and her sentence died in her throat as she snapped her head back to look at him.

He was still staring at her, thoughts and emotions flashing across his eyes so swiftly that she could not decipher them.

"Is that what you think I've been doing?"

The sensation of having no idea what to say was a very foreign state for Zelda, and she floundered. "I--um--yes?"

He squeezed her hand a little tighter. "That's not what's been going on."

Zelda's brain was dragging itself sluggishly along, like a chu shlorping across the ground. "But, but Midna--"

Link flushed a little, looking to one side and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "It's true that's part of why I ask for the missions at the beginning, but--but I got over her loss a while ago."

Zelda stared. "Then why have you been hurrying through the missions lately? You have to know it keeps causing you to get hurt!"

Link's face turned redder.

"I. Well. Uh. The--the faster I finished the missions, the sooner I could see you again?"

Zelda's brain sloughed to a stop. The chu stopped shlorping across the ground. "Me?"

Her voice was breathless. Link swallowed, his words coming faster, tripping, stumbling over each other, rushing headlong like Epona at a gallop.

"It took me a while, y'know, to--to come to terms with what happened, and, and figure out what I felt about Midna, but after a while I started to notice how," his gaze darted to Zelda's face and flew away again, his ears now scarlet as red poiton, "how hard you worked, and how much you loved your people and--how pretty you were."

As fast as the words were spewing from Link's mouth, Zelda's heart was beating even faster.

The orange-golden glow of the windowpanes no longer seemed melancholy. Zelda thought it was the most beautiful color in the world.

Link gulped hard. "And I thought the more missions I went on, the better help I'd be for you and... and I'd see you more often. So. That. That's why."

He sucked in a breath, gulping air like a diver come to the surface, and finally looked at Zelda again.

Zelda was sitting there, still as a statue, eyes wide with shock. The only indication of emotion was the faint rosy pink crawling across her cheeks.

Link swallowed again, and loosened his grip on her hand, with the air of a man who wondered if he'd ever get to touch her again.

Zelda's brain suddenly sprung to life, ad before Link could fully pull his hand away, she caught hold of his fingers.

Link stared at her, and Zelda felt a smile slip onto her face, as bright as the dawn. "You don't have to have an excuse to visit me. You can come whenever you want," She glanced down at their joined hands, feeling her cheeks warming. "...I'd love that very much."

She glanced back up, just in time to see a grin spread across Link's face, wide and incandescantly happy. "I think I'd like that very much, Princess."

And Zelda laughed, glad at the way her heart rejoiced at the sight of that smile.

#zelink week 2022 #zelink #tp zelink #loz twilight princess #healing #tellie writes stuff #my fanfics

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sun-aries · 9 months

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Broken Mirrors and Their Reflections Edit (chapter 29)

Once in awhile, I go back and edit scenes that I think need work - and I kinda liked this? So if you've read BMTR, here's an edit for the end of Chapter 29. I'll be editing the smut that went along with it and might post it here too.

Also, do readers like when fanfic writers go back and edit their work? Just wondering! Anyways, enjoy!

Steam trailed after him as he left the bath chambers, but it sat in the cold air like oil sat on water, adjacent and yet not able to truly interlace, as if the realm itself rejected the heat. At least the bath chamber was small enough so that it was hardly noticeable. But as he stepped out into the adjacent bedchambers, the cold slapped him harshly, and he rubbed his arms to bring some heat back to his body.

But thoughts of cold and heat mattered little when he saw her silhouette by the window, encapsulated by the violet light casted through the glass. For a second, he was taken back to the moment he met her, standing before a view of a twilight world with the light as filtered from her as the land beyond. If it weren't for her warm and comforting scent, he might've thought she was a portrait.

Her arms were wrapped around her body as well, though her hands sat elegantly on her inner elbows, and her back was nearly pin-straight. She'd set her hair free from its knots and it tumbled down her back and over her bare shoulders. Even from the distance between them, he could see the goosebumps pepper her skin. He swallowed and urged his feet forward.

At last, she'd moved - had she too been suspended in time by his presence or did time slow down as he admired her? She looked at him over her shoulder with the familiar solemnness on her face, before it cracked and a small smile slipped through. His eyes examined the familiar outline and curves of her face: the gleam in her pale eyes, the lashes that curled past her silhouette and the way light sat on her lips like gloss. Her warmth radiated to him, even without touching, and he settled a little into his spot beside her.

She turned back to look through the window. "The Twilight Realm is beautiful. I still cannot believe that I'm able to see it with my own two eyes." His eyes followed hers back to the slow-moving clouds as they drifted past their window; were it not for the glass, they could simply reach out and let them sift through their fingers.

"It is."

"I haven't been able to properly enjoy it. But now that you're here-" She paused, took a small breath that seemed to catch her off-guard, and nodded before continuing, "It's nice."

"Zelda-" he started, but she looked back at him with a curious look in her eyes, and though he felt the volume drain from his voice, the words seeped through. "I've missed you too," he whispered thinly, his lips clicking under his breath, "so much."

He wanted to reach out as he said it, to touch her and show her what he meant, as they often preferred, but he kept his hands to himself, his fingers twitching and tangling in the loose fabric of his shirt. She'd been through a lot these last few weeks: he didn't want to push her.

Her eyes creased, little lines drawn at the corners, and she smiled again. Whether her eyes caught his twitch or she’d read his mind, she reached behind her neck and gracefully gathered her hair over a shoulder, leaving her back bare. His stomach leapt. "Would you help me?"

It didn’t take him much to understand. As her husband, he’d often incidentally taken her maids’ job of undressing her, but he hadn’t minded in the least. He stepped behind her, to the expanse of her back that she'd just unveiled with a simple sweep of her hand.

Laces followed the length of her spine and casted a webbed shadow onto her skin. Undoing them was second nature, but as his hands found the first knot, just inches below her shoulder blades, he found that his hands trembled. With every inch, more of her back was exposed: every familiar scar and scratch that nearly faded with the shadows of the room.

When he’d reached her waist, the dress fell slack and gathered at her hips, and his breath caught in his throat. She looked over her shoulder, her face half-obscured, and so he leaned in closer, her pull on him like gravity. As her eyes fluttered between his eyes and his lips, he understood, and though they moved slowly, they moved together, their lips meeting above her bare shoulder. Long, bidding strokes moved against each other and with each other at the same time.

It'd been so long since they kissed that he'd almost forgotten how it made him feel. He took a starved breath, like he'd just surfaced for water after a stint below, before coming back for more. His hands burrowed in her dress, finding her bare hips beneath, and he pressed his body against hers. She made a pleased noise that sent his blood pumping, and his brows pinched as he deepened the kiss.

It was strange how powerful his feelings were for her – that they could be apart for a week or so and it would scare him to death. Or that he would travel through realms without a second thought. It was like he was made to protect her, to love her ardently, with all that he was. Without Zelda in Hyrule, it was as if the sun had vanished from the sky, the life draining slowly from all beings.

They sighed when they parted, eyes searching and asking and hoping. "Zelda…" His voice was weak, his throat dry, and he swallowed. "You've been through so much. I…" He swallowed again, unsure what he was properly in favor of.

It was clear he was flustered; Zelda knew that he wouldn't go further if she didn't reassure him that she wanted him to. "It’s okay," she assured him, voice as steady as she could manage at the moment. "I'm okay."

"You were shaking earlier."

She tensed. She really shouldn't have been surprised he'd noticed something like that, what with those sharp eyes of his, but it still took her aback. "It wasn't anything," she started, a blush darkening her pale cheeks. "It's just that...I've missed you.” She paused before admitting, “I was nervous."

He blinked, and to her surprise, his face brightened into something akin to amusement. Zelda frowned. "What is it?"

"Nothing just..." His smile stretched. "You're adorable."

"Goddesses," she twined, her blush spreading to her ears, and he laughed bashfully before his lips met hers again.

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