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linksthoughtbrambles · 3 months

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The Seeds of Love, Well Worn

A gift for @newtsnaturethings for Midna's Merry Mixup! I'm sorry this is so late!!! I am officially saying Newt is also a coauthor of this fic because it is based on a very old, very silly conversation we had that was so much fun! This fic was also inspired by "The Calamity of Link's Cargo Shorts" by @zeldaseyebrows! It is excellent and should be read!! A big thank-you to @bellecream for beta-reading! This fic is also available to read here on ao3. Post-TotK Zelink, Canon-Compliant, Rated T, ~9,400 words

At first, Zelda thought nothing of it. After all, Link was entitled to some eccentricities. He couldn’t be the legendary hero if he were ordinary, could he?

Certainly, his renewed desire to play hide-and-seek with the koroks struck her as odd.

And yes, his sudden willingness to spend time away from her also seemed odd, especially as he’d clung to her so fervently since her fall from the sky—why insist on leaving her behind now?

Perhaps he wished to give her uninterrupted time to pursue her studies. She’d shooed him from her well and atrium often enough, though always with a smile. And yes, she’d been busy with concerns in all corners of Hyrule, leaving her less time to attend to her new garden, and she’d been frustrated with her efforts to populate the lovely pond Link had built into their plateau—had she been short with him? Had she seemed distant? Perhaps she’d hurt his feelings.

“I apologize sincerely, Link,” she blurted that night over dinner.

He blinked at her, all blue-eyed owl. “Huh?”

Apparently not.

His spectacular grin an hour later as he tossed her on their new bed confirmed it.

Definitely not.

Her concern grew as Link traveled further and further afield.

“Link- must you find them all?” she asked. “Surely that’s unnecessary.”

“I need more Korok seeds,” he said.

Her eyes flew wide. “S- eeds?”

“Yeah!”

“Ah. And… how many of these have you collected?”

Link shrugged and jammed his hand in his korok pouch. It emerged overflowing with tiny, golden nuggets. A few fell to the floor as the distinctive scent invaded Zelda’s nostrils.

“Link-“

He deposited them on the table-

“Link-”

-and reached back in, his fist again brimming with the deceptive little pellets. Zelda’s nose wrinkled as she waved her open palms in the direction of his belt.

“Link, this is our dining table!”

“So?”

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t you want to count them?”

“Well- not here.”

Link blinked at her. “Why not?”

She stared at her erstwhile knight, helpless to shut her jaw.

He didn’t know, did he?

She supposed it had never come up.

To be fair, they did look somewhat like seeds.

“How many fistfuls of these would you estimate you have in there?” she asked quietly.

“Oh, fistfuls? Maybe…” he scratched the back of his head with a squint toward the ceiling. “Maybe about twenty?”

Zelda blanched. “And… that’s not enough.”

He snorted. “Noooooo.”

His obsession struck her all the more strangely.

Link would stop at nothing. In short… he would create a mountain out of a molehill, right there on their dining room table, a tribute fit only for a king.

Or so Link seemed to believe.

She began to wonder if he was unwell.

The Rasitakiwak Shrine activated up the hill just before sunset. Link bounded into her garden at an unreasonable pace.

“Hahaaa!” he kissed her cheek with an intentionally long, wet smack and a shoulder-squeeze.

Zelda couldn’t help but giggle. “Link!” She then wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he said. “I got sixteen today.”

Zelda’s smile became quizzical as she wondered if he’d washed his hands.

“I’ll be on Hebra peak all day!” Link announced with a sideways smile and two fists proud on his hips.

Zelda tried to appear as though she were not at all worried, and that she was, in fact, happy for him to be so excited about visiting an incredibly dangerous high-altitude frozen wasteland on a whim. “The peak, specifically?” she asked, voice bright, though the slight curl of her lip may have given her away.

“My korok sense is tingling,” he said.

Zelda’s cheek twitched. “I wasn’t aware you had one.”

Link pulled a leaf-shaped mask from his pouch and donned it with a ya-ha-ha. It explained nothing.

She clasped her hands before her with a deep breath. “Will you allow me to accompany you this time?”

“Nope!”

She sighed. “Why ever not?”

“You have things to do! I know you want to-“ he began to count on his fingers- “jam a Zonai charge in that guardian-claw-contraption with Robbie, zip to Lookout Landing and see if Purah’s gotten any Zonai abilities working with the purah pads, weed and water your garden, do your measuring and extracting stuff there, see if any of those frogs you caught are still anywhere near our pond, go to Hateno and check how our critters are doing there, check in with Symin about the school… I mean- you have a lot going on.”

Zelda shook her head. “You’re not wrong, Link, but perhaps you might stay with me today? Can the koroks wait until tomorrow?”

He hesitated. He removed the mask to scratch his nose. “Well- I mean, will they still be there? Yeah! They’re shockingly dedicated to their game, which… is weird considering Hestu stopped playing with them seven years ago.” Link squinted, his eyes defocusing a bit. Zelda kept her laugh silent—a mere flurry of quivers of her diaphragm.

“Huh,” Link finally said, shaking his head, his eyes forcibly wide. “That is really weird, isn’t it? But… I kind of have to hurry. Even if the koroks are… insane. Or messing with me.”

That struck Zelda as disturbingly likely.

Link nodded, apparently resolute despite his targets’ nebulous motivations. “I should go today.”

She couldn’t help her falling face.

“Aw,” he said. He stuffed the mask back in his pouch, took her in his arms, and curled himself around her, pressing a kiss to her hair. “You miss me?”

“Yes,” she said, a little sheepish.

He held her tighter.

Then he bear-hugged her.

“Heh- Link!” she smiled, pushing at him playfully.

“It’ll be worth it,” he said. “Really. Please trust me? I promise there’s a good reason.”

“Can you tell me?” she asked.

He loosened his hold and kissed her forehead with the softness of a cloud. “If I could, I would.”

She studied his eyes a long moment.

He certainly appeared to be his usual self. His eyes sparkled with mischief, with his ever-present love for her, and with that shadow she’d seen in him ever since she’d fallen into the depths, whisked into another time.

The shadow- it worried her, kept her worrying beyond what would otherwise be reasonable. He’d never been the same.

She could even feel it in the cadence of his breath—shortened without apparent cause, always a twinge on the end of each, a restlessness in his fingers as he held her. They just kept moving, even when his hands were still.

Why this would drive him to scour the countryside for korok droppings, she didn’t know.

She ought to enlighten him about that at some point.

It ended on an unremarkable day in late spring, as suddenly as it began.

Zelda had no explanation.

Link said nothing of it.

His korok-seed fever simply ceased.

She wondered if someone else had revealed their nature to him.

He spent two entire days never leaving her side. The most accurate word she could think of to describe his mood was ‘barnacle.’

Zelda-barnacle. Yes, that was it, she thought as she clipped a sample off one of her more mature sundelions, his chin on her shoulder, his nose in her hair, his eyes on her work, and both his arms wrapped securely about her middle. Even his legs were flush to hers a good measure of the way down.

That night, the sound of the shrine’s transport platform reached her in her sleep. She opened her eyes to find Link gone, his place in bed beside her cold. She heard him enter the house soon afterward.

He returned to bed and wrapped his arms around her as though he’d never gone.

“Where were you?” she asked quietly.

He kissed the crown of her head. “Kakariko.”

“Why?”

He chuckled. “Can’t tell you.”

He made several more clandestine journeys, each time unsuccessful in the sense Zelda knew he’d gone. He always returned to bed, and she always asked where he’d been.

“Kakariko.”

“Hateno.”

“The korok forest.”

That one made her sit up. “Oh?!”

He laughed.

She squinted down at him, his bare stomach shaking with mirth.

She squinted hard. “So many koroks…” she said.

“Hm. True,” he answered, mock-seriously.

“…Are you collecting seeds again?”

“Nah.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

Then she tackled his abdomen, tickling hard with all ten fingers.

It hadn’t been wise, truly. He overpowered and tickled her easily, his utter lack of mercy keeping her breathless for the following five minutes.

She learned nothing more from him that night—and he made no more secret journeys after that, as far as she could tell.

The summer solstice arrived.

Zelda opened her eyes to the sight of Link’s lovestruck gaze, the dimple deep in his left cheek. He pushed her hair behind her ear. “Happy Birthday,” he said softly.

His first gift to her arrived immediately, with no need even to leave their bed.

The second waited, a centerpiece on the dining table: a large box tied with a wide, royal blue bow, every bit as obvious as Link’s excitement for her to open it. He’d adopted barnacle-stance once again, using his legs to walk hers toward the table.

She laughed, shifting off-balance as the odd gait forcibly waddled her. He stopped them directly in front of the box, though he didn’t let go.

“I take it you’d like me to open this before breakfast.”

“Yes please,” he said, his laugh higher than normal, burying his eyes in the nape of her neck. “I’ve been keeping it secret soooooooo long.”

She chuckled, her arms and hands covering his, warm, around her waist. “My poor knight,” she said, a habit from days long gone.

He hummed a breath into her, nuzzling her nape and ending with as much of his face as he could tuck into her hair as possible.

She patted his arms and tilted forward. He slid his hands to her waist and leaned around her, watching.

The ribbon fell open easily. She lifted the top off the box and folded back the protective paper to see- “Pants?”

“Take them out!” Link urged.

She lifted them by the waistband. Her head cocked in confusion as they unfolded.

“Shorts!” she said, amazed at the array of large pockets all over them. They were otherwise simple, black, as though to replace her riding pants. Their shorter length would be welcome in summer, and she absolutely could do with pockets. The pouch at her hip wasn’t enough, though Link, of course, would allow her to put anything she wished in his.

“Look inside,” Link whispered, bouncing a little on his toes.

Zelda gave him an amused look. She then held the waistband open and peered downward. As predicted, she saw black fabric. She also saw her own feet on the floor through the leg holes.

“No, no no no no,” Link said. “Look in the pockets.”

“Ah,” she said. Thinking he’d secreted something within one for her, she slipped one strap from its loop, lifted the flap, and rummaged inside.

“Goodness,” she said. “This pocket is quite deep.”

Link produced a snigger.

She eyed him suspiciously once more as she slid her arm further and further into the pocket… still contacting nothing. She withdrew, confused.

“I-“ she lifted the garment above her head. Then she examined the pocket’s outer seam. She pressed her hands on either side of it. It appeared to be utterly ordinary – larger than her hand, certainly, but…

She shook her head and inserted her hand once more. She watched, fascinated, as more and more of her arm disappeared into it, until the pocket’s edge reached her shoulder. She wrapped her other arm around it to feel where her arm had gone inside the cloth.

The answer, it turned out, was nowhere. The fabric pressed flat to her torso.

She gasped, a slow smile spreading across her face as she turned to see one of the biggest grins Link had ever given her.

“It’s like your pouch!” she cried.

“YA HA HA!” Link yelled as she tackled him. “Oof-“

“Oh my goodness- oh- Link- Link think of what I could do with this!”

“I did,” he chuckled.

“Are all the pockets this way?”

He nodded; then he looked up and to the left for a moment, a half-squint on. “Well- yeah they’re all enchanted, but it’s not quiiiite the same.”

“Oh?”

“I had- requests for these pockets. Special ones.”

“Such as?”

“Well…” He opened a larger pocket lower down. “Check this out!”

She did.

And she gasped.

She was peering into a space, perhaps the size of the main room of their new house, with a lush, grassy floor, a medium-sized dogwood tree, and a pond.

With lily pads.

She stared.

She stared more.

She goggled at Link, dully noting his arms supporting her, his eyes positively twinkling.

“is this…. for… frogs?” she asked, her tongue extremely dry.

“Well,” he said waggling his head. “It doesn’t have to be. But I thought-“

She kissed him.

Link examined his work as a myriad of frogs hopped, croaked, and plain-old-chilled out around him, quite proud of himself. The ruby rod was definitely staying put—and unlike one of the old flame blades (damn, he missed those), it wasn’t going to cook every frog that touched it. “I think I got it!” he yelled.

The sound of cloth-on-cloth preceded Zelda’s face appearing in what seemed to be a slit on a dark wall about even with Link’s head.

“Oh!” Zelda said. “You’ve embedded it!”

“I figured it’d work best if it was actually in the water,” he said, trying but failing to see any steam visibly rising from the little pond’s surface.

“Indeed!”

Link wondered if there’d be clouds—like rain—or if droplets would just condense on that nebulous, sky-blue ceiling above. Verrrrrry slowly.

“I’m still concerned about the lack of sunlight,” Zelda said.

Link smiled, pulling his eyes from the unsky to make his way toward her. He stuck his face right up to the opening. “It’s magic, Zelda. Don’t worry too much. It was like this in the sword-trials.”

“It’s unclear whether those were physically real, Link.”

“True, but there were loads of plants inside the Zonai shrines.”

“Hmm. There still are,” she said. “I suppose that suggests whatever the light source is, it’s sufficient for them.”

“Yup. So don’t worry.” He pointed up. “I bet it’s sky blue up there for a reason.”

She huffed a laugh. “I suppose I agree with you, for my instinct is not to take that bet.”

Link raised his chin, proud of himself for the third time that day. “Nice! So… is it testing time?”

“If you’re ready, Link, then certainly. I shall be gentle, but I suspect the fact the pond has remained intact means this will be entirely uneventful.”

The sound of shuffling cloth accompanied the strange sight of her hands, the wall, a painting, and then the ceiling moving beyond the opening followed by a wild motion of the wood, glimpses of Zelda’s armpit, her hair, her nose, and a single green eye as she pulled the garment on. He heard her fasten it.

“Link?” she called.

“Nothing happened down here!”

“Excellent.” She peered down at him. “Link? You are officially in my pocket.”

He snorted. “I’m in your pants.”

“As is typical for you,” she said with a mischievous glint.

Being in Zelda’s pants (literally) turned out to be less interesting than Link thought it would.

She’d warped to Hateno rather than hike or paraglide down to Tarrey Town.

“What if the shorts fall off?”

“Do your pants usually fall off when you paraglide?”

“Of course not, but if they do, you are in them, and you shall hit the water, and if it comes pouring in, what will happen to you?”

Link shrugged. “I’ll swim out.”

“Perhaps, but what if the entry fails to expand?”

“Why would it?!”

“No- we must be scientific about this. Nothing risky is to be done without proof of concept.” Her spine straightened suddenly as though shocked. “Goodness. What if I fall? Same potential result—possibly worse, for we do not know how taking on water affects the weight of the pants-“

Link started laughing. “Zelda, they have a tree and a pond and- DIRT and things. They don’t weigh anything.”

“Yet what if they do, Link?! Perhaps a fraction of their weight is transferred. We don’t know. We cannot test it without removing the material, and frankly I have no wish to ruin that lovely environment in order to haul a tree out. No, the only way would be to add material and weigh the shorts afterward.”

“Ze-“

“Of course, I would do that with the similar pocket on the left rather than disturb the pond...”

He’d been about to suggest he just… paraglide down with her and hop in the pocket in town. They could be discrete about it—ask to use the bathroom at the Hudson Construction office or something—but he liked to hear Zelda talk, and she’d clearly started one of her long thinking-out-loud rolls. So, he’d listened while making mental note of the locations of niiiice, big, heavy boulders he could shove in the bottom left pocket.

And now, here he was, chilling with the frogs, listening to Zelda’s footsteps and chatter with the townsfolk, making yet more mental notes of any jostling (which was… really easy since there’d been none so far), and trying to think of how else he could kick the frog habitat up a level. Luckily, he could hear Zelda even with the flap closed, so he had some entertainment other than the sticky frog that had decided his back was comfortable.

His head shot up.

Neither of them had thought to test whether he could leave with the flap shut. That, to him, seemed a much bigger deal than anything else. What if she was hurt and he couldn’t get out to help her? What if something attacked her? Zelda could defend herself, sure, but he couldn’t be stuck in here, helpless, if someone or something meant her harm. Bokoblins. Moblins! One of the remaining gleeoks he hadn’t yet purged from the depths. He can’t possibly have found them all, and those things could fly like anything, come out of nowhere. He’d never seen one leave a chasm but there was absolutely no reason he could see why it couldn’t, and chasms—dear Hylia, they probably hadn’t found them all and what if she was walking somewhere and she didn’t see it and she slipped and she was falling and falling and falling and he couldn’t catch her again-

“Link?” Zelda called.

Link’s pulse rushed fully tactile in the left side of his neck, audible especially in that ear. Sweat had begun to seep into his clothing.

“Yeah!” he yelled.

“Any motion?”

He laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d stopped paying attention—but he hadn’t noticed anything. “I don’t think so!”

He could practically hear her mind whir on that one.

“Alright!” she said.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at himself. He’d done it again. He really, really, really needed to stop doing that. Hadn’t that been part of the point of this gift to her? Yeah, she loved the pockets, but also he’d had to get used to letting her be alone. He must’ve been driving her crazy. He’d barely been able to let her garden for five minutes without checking on her.

Better that she missed him than got unbearably sick of him hovering around her all the time. It’d happened before, all those… very many long years ago. It could happen again.

He scrubbed his face.

He had to think about something else.

He eyed a particularly quick hot-footed frog.

His nose wrinkled. He wished he didn’t know what its secretions tasted like. He wouldn’t enjoy being stuck in here with nothing but those things to eat. He didn’t expect sticky frogs to be any better, or ordinary tree frogs for that matter.

Not that he planned on eating them. But if it was him or the frogs-

The frog on his back made a soft ‘ribbit.’

Link craned his neck. He could see the moist, blue tippy tip of his stowaway’s nose.

…Eh. Okay, the frog was cute. He could eat other things first.

Grass! There was grass. And flowers.

Could you eat dogwood trees?

He’d have to dig himself a latrine.

…

It would be really gross.

Not as bad as Zelda being hurt. By a lot.

But still… disgusting.

And she’d never let that happen to him unless she was hurt, so it was a moot point.

… Or unless the shorts fell in the lake.

He smacked his forehead. He should know by now that Zelda was always right. Because if lake water started pouring in here and he couldn’t get out because the flap was closed?

He was effed with a capital f.

Much better that he was in here than her. He wouldn’t make it five minutes if their roles were reversed. He’d be hauling her out of here forcibly. Once they knew how it worked, sure.

Hestu hadn’t seemed to know much about it, either. Magic, inventory-expanding dances? He had those in the bag. The mechanics of the bag? Nope.

“No, thank you, Manny.”

Link’s eyes shot to the closed flap.

“It’s a spectacular collection of crickets, to be sure.”

“Turns out Lasli didn’t want them, either.”

Link groaned.

“Eh he. Yes, I heard you telling Link last time.”

He was still on this?

“She didn’t like the frogs, either. But you do, right, Princess?”

Link would not tell Manny Lasli loved fireflies. Because she actually did, and he wouldn’t inflict Manny on anyone for real.

“I know you like them.”

…Link didn’t appreciate that tone in Manny’s voice. Not that he knew what it was, exactly.

He just didn’t like it.

He didn’t like Zelda’s silence either.

He stood and padded barefoot over the grass to try and peek out the flap.

“W- eh- ll. I- suppose I- do like frogs-“

“I have a hundred for you, Princess. Do you want them?”

Link really didn’t like that tone of voice.

“U- ahem. Do you mean the frogs?”

NOT ONE BIT.

Link shoved at the flap, too high-alert to be happy it didn’t resist him. He grabbed the edge with both hands and stuck his head out.

He found himself looking at Zelda’s midriff.

“AaaaaAAAAAAHHHH!” Manny screamed, and he wasn’t the only one.

Several things happened in quick succession.

People and cuccos scattered (Link could hear them), something hit the ground hard and rattled, and several doors slammed open against their stops.

“ARE THOSE DAMN SKELETONS BACK?!”

“It’s daytime, dad!”

“Heavens, Princess, what are you wearing?!”

“MY LAUNDRY!”

“Princess!!! There’s an animal in your pocket!!”

Zelda’s arms shot out above Link’s head. “Oh! No, it’s—" a number of crickets landed on her midsection. “Oh, my,” she said, hers the calmest voice in earshot as Link tried to figure out how to turn his head the right way.

“MANNY WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!”

“BLEHHHHGHGHGHHHH BUGS!” (A door slammed shut).

Someone was shrieking high on the letter ‘E’ as Link, with a great deal of confusion, managed to twist around and see the street.

It didn’t help.

Manny was trying to scoop crickets out of the air and fling them back in the wood-and-mesh cage he’d kept them in, its latch flopping around. The appearance of Link’s eyeballs knocked him back onto his hindquarters with a strange cry, almost as hard as if Link had punched him physically. The cage landed lopsided—which was probably what happened a few seconds ago, too—and crickets streamed outward.

Ivee seemed every bit as terrified of Link’s disembodied head as she’d been of the potential pocket-critter and then some. One of her knees rose and crossed her body as she squealed, dropping her broom.

Her father managed to make a wide-eyed scowl at Link. “What in Hylia’s green hills?! Link?!”

Manny panted, gulped, and leaned forward. “L- Link, man. It is you.” He then looked from Link to the pocket below him, and up to Zelda’s face, an idea clearly forming.

“You-“ Link said, waggling a finger at him- “and me- we’re having a talk. Soon. Got it?”

For some reason Manny grinned wide. “Got it,” he said with a wink.

Link was confused, but he’d take it for now. “Good!” He twisted up to see Zelda. “Hi,” he said. A cricket landed on his forehead.

Zelda shook with laughter. “Hello, Link. Any jostling?”

“Not a thing!”

“Excellent. Well. Shall we continue?” she asked, shooing his cricket away.

“Depends,” Link said. “Do you actually want those frogs?”

Zelda shook her head. “It is far too many frogs. Manny?”

“Y- yes, Princess?”

“You ought to return those hot-footed frogs to the wild where you found them, though keeping a few would be alright. I have enough in here already.”

“E-enough?” Manny stuttered as Link leaned out to see just how many frogs there were and where the heck he was keeping them.

The sticky frog on Link’s back made its bid for freedom.

It launched through the air with a loud croak and landed on Ivee’s hip.

She shrieked, flapping her shirt wildly in attempt to fling it off. Link moved reflexively to yank himself out and recover the frog. Instead, Zelda toppled as Link simply appeared, connected to her leg. They landed in a heap, Zelda on top, with her face in Link’s hair and Link’s legs still dangling in the other-dimensional space.

“I got heavy again, didn’t I?” Link said to the dirt.

Zelda nodded in his hair.

“I’ll get you a new frog,” Link offered.

“No need,” she said, having turned her head to rest it on Link, watching Ivee quiver in fear as the blue terror slowly scaled her torso. “It’s not going anywhere.”

Link rotated his face to look Manny in the eye. “Seriously. You’re still trying this? What do you do, wait by the village entrance and offer critters to everyone who passes you?”

Manny leaned forward conspiratorially. “Only the hot babes,” he whispered.

Link groaned and put his face back into the dirt.

It was better.

“Here you are, Link,” Zelda said, passing him yet another apple.

Not that he wouldn’t take it, but wow, she wanted him to eat today, didn’t she?

“Thanks, Zel!” He grabbed it and made extremely short work of it. He tried to shove the core in his own pouch again, wrinkling his nose when it just hit bottom and got his hand sticky. “Aw. I keep forgetting.”

Her hand reappeared in the opening as she chuckled. “It must feel strange to suddenly have an ordinary pouch.”

“You bet. Don’t know how I managed before.”

“Well, fret not. You shall have access to your many thousands of odds and ends once you emerge.”

Good thing, too. He’d’ve had some kind of breakdown if bringing his pouch inside THIS pouch had broken his pouch forever.

He had over a dozen omelets in there, to say nothing of a now exceedingly rare undecayed eightfold blade.

It struck him real suddenly why she was feeding him so much. He couldn’t just reach in and pull out a snack like he usually could.

He found himself very warm and fuzzy. He turned his eyes on Zelda, still peering curiously at him. “Thanks, Zelda. You’re… really thoughtful. You know that?”

She blinked at him slowly. “You’re… welcome, Link.”

Link now understood his disembodied appearance in Zelda’s pocket was both an asset and a curse.

Sticking his head out among adults, unexpected? Chaos.

Sticking his head out in the Hateno schoolyard? Also chaos. But the screams were fun-kid-play screams, not screams of abject, world-view-upending terror.

The schoolbell rang.

“Awwww,” Azu said. “We just got started!”

They had, in fact, just started chucking insects, sticks, and chunks of bark into the pocket and watching, fascinated, as they fell sideways upon entering the magical space.

Zelda gave an indulgent chuckle. “I’m sure the frogs will be appreciative of your efforts, and It’s not as though we won’t be back. Go to class!”

The children grumbled a little as they traipsed inside. So did Link’s stomach.

“You know, they fed the frogs, but did I get anything? Nope.”

“Hmm. I imagine that’s because they’d eaten their lunches already.”

“Aww. I wouldn’t take the kids’ lunch.”

Zelda hummed a laugh, her forehead wrinkling slightly. “Are you hungry already?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Truly? It’s not as though we didn’t have our own lunch… and quite a few snacks for you.”

Link shrugged. “Hungry anyway.” She was still… looking at him, but not in the ‘oh look it’s Link, he’s so attractive and I’d like to be back at home in bed right now’ way or the ‘look at Link, he’s so silly, he makes me laugh, he might do something else funny if I keep watching’ way.

He could usually de-code if he studied her hard enough—but right now he had to look partway up her nostrils to do it. “You… have your thoughtful-face on,” he said.

“I’m always thinking,” she said with a smile.

A suspicious smile. “Yeaaaaaah, but sometimes you’re thinking harder.”

She cocked her head, still watching him.

He cocked his, too, with half a grimace on.

Maybe it was the ‘he might do something funny’ face.

It couldn’t hurt to try.

Link spun around, spotting a stick Karin had tossed inside. He snatched it up, looked Zelda right in the eye, and took a nice, hearty chomp.

Her head reared.

“Mmm,” Link said. “Sassafras!”

It tasted like skunky-root-beer-meets-a-whole-box-worth-of-matchheads, but the look on Zelda’s face was worth it.

She only laughed a little, though.

He’d have to up his game.

Either that, or he’d just have to be attractive later.

He chuckled to himself. Why not both?

In the meantime, he had a bunch of items to arrange. Now that Zelda had this pocket, and now that it had frogs in it, and the kids had not only seen it but put stuff in it, they were absolutely going to want to visit the frogs and see all their stuff in use in the frog habitat.

Link sighed, looking at the feeble collection of dead tree matter near the opening.

As if on cue, Zelda reached in, a long, curled section of papery bark in her hand. “Would… you like this, Link?”

“Sure—thanks!” he said. He grabbed it and snatched up the rest, intent on turning the kids’ offerings into a tiny frog village in the corner.

“Link,” Zelda said, her voice carefully nonchalant. “Here’s some oak wood.”

Link arrived at the flap and took it from her. “Oh great, yeah, thanks!” He gave her a huge, excited grin and an eyebrow flash. Then he raised it to his wide-open mouth and stuck it right in.

Zelda swallowed, wide-eyed.

He disappeared to the left again with some small shuffling sounds.

She then heard a crack, and a happy sound from Link.

Zelda began to think frantically.

“H- here you are, Link,” Zelda said.

Link turned from his task to see her hand dangling a scrap of leather into the opening.

He bounded over to her, reaching for the offering. Zelda seemed a bit less happy than he’d have liked, her lips pressed together and held there by her teeth. He looked her over. Then he looked the leather over. Not terrible leather. Not great. Nothing special. Big enough to be a blanket for a frog. He snorted.

He’d stuck a few different kinds of wood in his mouth since the stick made her laugh at least a little, but when she got serious he did, too, going about his construction efforts. A bunch more bark, several sticks, chunks of wood, and a sheet of slate later, here she was handing him leather.

What was he supposed to do with it?

She was watching him so closely!

…Maybe she got serious because he got boring? His mouth pulled in deep on the left. He studied Zelda’s downturned face. Maybe he hadn’t gone big enough. “Look. Do you want to see me eat this? Because I can totally eat the whole thing.” He could, too. He’d eaten way worse.

Her eyes flicked elsewhere, then back to him with a little shimmy of her head.

It was cute.

He smiled.

“No, Link,” she said.

He blew a puff of air out. He’d hoped so. “Just checking.”

She looked so expectant.

What was he missing?

“…Thanks, Zel! Be back in a minute.” He jogged past the tree and out of Zelda’s direct line of vision.

What to do with the leather? Zelda didn’t just do things for no reason. Maybe he should just ask her. But she wasn’t saying anything, so she must think he already knew, so it must be something for the habitat and he must be being dense, and-

Oh.

OH.

He was… really thick sometimes. He smiled to himself.

Of course. He’d even thought it was about big enough to cover a whole frog! It could be a little frog blanket. Or a mat. Or frog armor for a teeny tiny little frog army.

Link’s entire form lit up.

No, no. Zelda was studying the frogs, not playing with them. The kids would play with them.

…It would be so cute.

He sighed. He would resist. Little mats? For the cute little frog houses he’d already made with the sticks and stuff? Sure. He could make frog-tents, too. It was always light in the habitat. They probably needed someplace dark they could go hide in sometimes. Yes!

Link got to work, realizing pretty quickly he didn’t have all the tools he needed. He wandered back to the flap.

“Hey, Zelda?”

“Yes, Link!”

“I need some thread and some long, thin lengths of leather. And more rectangles of leather. Maybe…” he thought for a moment. “Thirty-six pieces.”

She stared at him. “Thirty-six?”

“Yep. Just to be safe.”

I am extremely concerned that Hylian mental status is negatively affected by enclosure within my cargo shorts’ lower-right pocket, Zelda wrote in her research journal.

As Link expressed his hunger despite his frankly gargantuan intake of food, I recalled that items retrieved from Link’s pouch emerge exactly as they went in. Food does not spoil. Vegetation does not wither. Animals do not perish. And indeed, nothing has occurred to harm the frogs we’ve placed in the habitat for study. Yet one would think if time stood still, they would not hop (etc.). Clearly, whatever magic occurs is complex.

I would be merely curious rather than concerned had Link not proceeded to eat sassafras wood (notably unhealthy). Indeed, for each piece of wood I passed to him after that, he thanked me profusely. He then appeared to develop an insatiable craving for soft leather! Is he unable to appease his hunger if he enters in a hungry state? And was Link willing to eat these items because he was truly that hungry, or has the space had an effect on his thinking?

I oughtn’t allow him to go back in. It took a good deal of convincing to get him to come out. He insisted he ‘wasn’t finished.’ I had to lower a rope in and ask him to climb it to test the effect of our gravity vs. that of the gravity within the pocket as he climbed. I was quite relieved when he agreed.

“Morning, Zel!” Link chimed from the kitchen—Zelda had made her way partially down the steps to the alluring aroma of honeyed flapjacks.

“Good morning, Link,” she said, her smile a little more tired than it should have been considering her large amount of sleep. She breathed deep. “That smells delic…ious.”

Zelda stared at the low table along the far wall. “Link?”

“Yep?”

“What are those?”

Link followed her gaze. “Oh! Yeah, the leather was a really good idea. I’ll bring those ones in with me today.”

She blinked, shaking her head. “You… what?”

“Into the pocket today,” Link said, flipping one of the pancakes. A few dark spots revealed wildberries embedded in it. “I’ll bring them in with me.”

“Link- I… was thinking perhaps you shouldn’t go in there today.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Well, for one thing we’ve other concerns. We are overdue for our visit to Rito Village. I know Tulin has been anxious to discuss his Zonai stone, and we shouldn’t put that off for any of our modern-day sages. There ought to be- some manner of succession, or-“

“Zel,” Link said, a quizzical look on his face as he slid the honey and blackberry flatcake onto a plate. “This… is nothing new, and none of them are…” he shrugged, waving his pan and his spatula- “old, or… sick, or anything. It can totally wait.”

“It’s not as though the pockets can’t wait.”

“Zel, you literally just started testing them out yesterday.” He squinted at her. “You were worried about just keeping frogs in there without understanding how the fake environment would affect them. Right?” He waited.

“Well… yes.”

“And they just plain old don’t like our little L-shaped pond thing. Right?”

“…They do not seem to particularly enjoy it, no.”

“Because they leave.”

“Yes.”

“So you can’t just take the little guys out and put them in our pond.”

“Not if I expect to see them again.”

“And you like frogs.”

“They are fascinating,” she said. “Not that other creatures aren’t – they certainly are – but, at least in our time, their effects on speed, strength, and stamina were poorly understood, though of course we can make some elixirs from them, and now with these sticky frogs having sprung from the caverns opened in the upheaval, there is so much more to learn. It’s not even just the frogs, it’s-“

She stopped at the huge, dimpled smile on his face.

“What is it?”

“You,” he said. He replaced the pan on the wood stove and dolloped some batter in it—then he circled the table and wrapped her up in his arms. “I love how curious you are,” he said.

“Even after all that time,” he said, far more quietly.

She’d snuggled into him, but his tone had her pulling back, examining his face; his smile had vanished. She traced his lips with an unthinking fingertip. “Link…”

He tried and failed to smile under her touch.

She stroked the subtle hollow of his cheek. It disturbed her a little that he even had a hollow of his cheek, with all the food he took in. He never used to. He’d had rounded cheeks, always.

“Sorry,” he said. “It hits me sometimes… how long you waited. For me. Because I-“ he swallowed. “Because I missed.”

She shook her head and crushed him to her, pressed his face to her shoulder. “No, Link. No. Truly. It wasn’t like that. It was as though…. a long dream.”

He nodded against her. She’d told him before—many times—yet it continued to haunt him, evidenced by moments like this. Sometimes she thought he didn’t believe her.

Sometimes she suspected hethought about it far more than he let on—wondered if the occasions on which he acted strangely were fueled, somehow, by that fall of hers into blackness and its consequences.

Not for Hyrule. He’d saved that.

But she’d spent eons and eons so very far not only from him, but from her own consciousness—and self-recrimination kept surfacing within him for it.

Zelda thought of his months-long korok obsession. Of his need to have hundreds upon hundreds of ‘seeds,’ and that need utterly overriding his usual (over)protectiveness of her, even to the point of him going when she specifically requested he stay.

There had been no pocket to affect his thinking, then. Perhaps an oddity of the flow of time had nothing to do with his behavior.

She worried at her lip and thought of the scraps of leather lined up on the table partway behind her. “…Link?” she asked.

“Yeah, Zel?”

His voice sounded thick.

She stroked his hair and took a deep breath. “What is the leather for?”

His eyelashes fluttered against her skin. He lifted his head to look at her. “Frog tents.”

“…Frog tents?”

“And mats and blankets, and I was thinking of making cute little sets of leather frog armor, but I figured that was just me being a little bored and not actually something that would spruce up the habitat, though the kids would sure enjoy it. Maybe we should get them to make some.”

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. “You-“ she shut her mouth. Should she say something?

“Zelda?”

She smiled, her thoughts turning. “Link- you… you worried me yesterday. Considerably.”

He looked nonplussed. “I did? How?”

She gave him a look, then patted his shoulders—he released her. She walked over to her hung shorts. She reached into one of the storage pockets and removed a birch branch.

She returned to Link and held it out to him expectantly.

He just stared at her. He flicked his eyes to the branch once. Then he stared some more. “Uh.”

“What… would you do with this if I gave it to you?” she asked.

Link scratched the back of his head. “I mean… usually I’d whack a bokoblin with it- ONLY if it was red, mind you. But now with the pond, I could give it to the frogs like all the other stuff.”

She blinked at him. “You could… what?”

“Yeah, I can arrange it around the pond- well… it’s really in the corner, I didn’t want to put it right next to the water. It looks pretty neat already but it’s not even close to finished yet. It’ll be like a little frog village. Little log seats and tents, and an itty bitty frog campfire for them to sit at, and little mats for them to sleep on, and…” he trailed off at the look on her face. “What?”

“You haven’t been eating these?”

He stared at her.

Then he burst out laughing. “What?!”

She spread her arms wide. “You have been- taking bites of wood, and bark, and even rocks—though granted this is not the first time I’ve seen you eat rock-“

“Salt’s a rock.”

“That is beside the point, Link, the darling, obtuse love of my life.” She gripped his shirt with two fists and put some of her weight on them. It made him lean over with a bit of a droll smile on his face. “You were displaying- extraordinarily odd behavior once more. Please, please, explain your actions if not to sate your seemingly inexhaustible hunger while inside the pocket?”

“You thought I was eating wood because I was too hungry?”

“Of course!”

He huffed a laugh. “Why wouldn’t I just ask you for actual food?”

“I wondered the same thing!”

“You could’ve asked me why.”

She blinked, drawn up short.

His thumbs drew gentle shapes on her biceps. His eyes wandered all over her features. One eyelid twitched just slightly more shut. “Why didn’t you ask?” His voice had softened so much.

Her mouth opened and shut, her fingertips on his face again. She made a study of his features with them, moving from place to place.

Link’s nostrils flared a second before she noticed the burning smell.

“Sh-!” he leapt almost comically over the table (comically except that he was Link, so the leap itself was graceful and perfectly executed to place him directly in front of the stove). “Ahhh, this happens so much…” He flipped the offending flapjack with a flick of his wrist. The underside was, indeed, rather burnt, but she knew he’d finish cooking it anyway.

He didn’t turn around.

His shoulder blades shifted as he jiggled the pan.

Zelda circled the table, arriving at his side, his nearer hand still on the pan’s handle. “Link?”

His face turned toward her, and while he showed no outward sign of tears, she knew that face on him. They weren’t far off.

She caressed his bicep, his hairline where his head and neck met. “What is it?”

He half-laughed, shutting his eyes and leaning into the hand at his neck, just for a moment. “You tell me. You… didn’t answer my question.”

Her cheek came to a slow rest at his shoulder, her eyes on his, at a loss to explain. She didn’t know where to start.

Her silence seemed to hurt him, almost bodily. He winced. He moved the pan onto a thick potholder. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut. He took a few deep breaths before returning his eyes to hers.

“Well, you wanted to know what I was doing, so… I was just trying to make you laugh. At first, I mean.” His smile was very, very weak. “The joke didn’t land, huh?”

Her eyes had widened a little. “I.. thought-“

“It’s okay,” he said. A small smirk touched his face. “I’m funnier when I’m not trying.”

A small laugh puffed out her nose.

“Oh ho! Yeah, see? I thought so.”

“I am sorry, Link. I thought it was hunger because you were simply insatiable all morning.”

He flashed his eyebrows twice.

She giggled. “That is not what I meant.”

He smiled anyway.

“You devoured breakfast, lunch, and every other piece of food I passed to you while you were in there!”

He shook a little in a laugh, though his face remained far less than jovial. “How is this unusual?”

“Do you realize how much food it was?”

“OH yeah.”

“And you were still hungry?”

“I’m always hungry. I can literally always eat.”

“You say that, but your stomach must be of limited size.”

Link shrugged.

“I’d begun to wonder if I the space you were in was affecting you.”

“Well, again… I don’t understand why you didn’t just ask me.”

The shadow she’d been seeing in him became all the more obvious.

“Link… you always say you’re alright.”

He shrugged. “I always am.”

“No, you are not,” she blurted, surprising even herself. “Link… I see it in you.” She pressed her hands to his face, cradling him. “You’ve not been- you’ve never been the same since I came back,” she said, almost whispering. “I see it there, in your eyes- and more than that. It’s a change in your entire body, your full self. Yet you always insist you’re alright. I do not ask because-“ she just realized it herself- “you would not tell me truthfully.”

She could see him floundering, but her mouth would not stop. “You have been acting strangely. For months, you were collecting korok- seeds- with such fervor, willing to leave me for long stretches of time, which had up to that point been quite unusual for you—and you refused to tell me what that was about, too. And then-“ she snapped her fingers- “nothing. No more.” She softened at the odd twitching which appeared in his left cheek—she’d no wish to come across as harsh—she simply could not contain it any longer. “Your night excursions worried me at first, too, and then especially when you mentioned the forest.”

“But,” he cut in, “you know what it was about now, right?”

“Yes, obviously now I know,” she said.

He shook his head, then cocked it strangely at her. More quizzical than she’d ever seen him be—there was another word for it. She couldn’t quite place it, perhaps because she’d never seen it on his face.

“So… why are you… still worried?” he asked.

She ducked, seeking his eyes from below. “How can you not know?”

He splayed his hands wide, face up, shaking his head. “I- don’t!”

“Link. You spent months feverishly collecting pellets of korok dung!”

He blinked. A lot.

Then he looked somewhere straight above Zelda’s head.

“Oh,” she sighed, her face in her hands. “I- I am sorry, Link, it was obvious you didn’t know, and that in and of itself wasn’t my concern. Why- why collect them in the first place? Even if they were seeds in the literal sense?”

Link groaned. Then he grabbed her biceps and rested his forehead on hers with a flabbergasted smile. “Wow. Wow. Okay, so, yeah, I didn’t know they were turds. Holy Hylia, I could kill Hestu.”

“Who is Hestu?”

Link shook his head. “Tell you later. No, you know what? I’ll introduce you later. We can shake the maraca tree together.”

Zelda opened her mouth, but Link shushed her with his fingerpad on her lips. “I get it. Why you thought I was nuts. Because that’s what this is about, right? You thought I was losing it, so you didn’t want to ask me, because of course if I was really insane I wouldn’t know anyway, so the answer doesn’t matter. Does that about sum it up?”

Her eyes welled with tears.

“Hey- hey- no, no no no, please. Don’t cry.” He kissed both her eyelids with a loving smile. “Yeah, I’d’ve thought you were losing it if you were collecting feces without it being some kind of study.”

She burst into a tearful giggle. “But not if it were a study.”

“No, pff! Of course not. You’ve studied nastier things. But that’s kind of my point. Like- I really thought I had given the game totally away when I told you I didn’t have enough seeds.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“Did I never tell you this?? Hestu- who you will meet- is the guy who does the magic to expand the pockets. And you have to pay him in korok seeds to do it.”

“What?!”

“Yeah!”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“That’s absurd!”

“He’s a trickster. Now I know!”

“What would he possibly want them for?”

“His maracas.”

“His what?!”

“His maracas! He sticks them inside and shakes them around and does this ridiculous dance and BOOM—expanded pockets! He can even make spaces within the spaces which is how I can keep all my swords separate, and my bows, and… and…”

He must have seen the look on her face.

“So…” she said, “if anyone is mad, it is this Hestu.”

Link snorted. “I sure hope so. Because if not, then it’s still me who’s lost his hold on reality.”

Zelda smiled at him. “I would love you anyway.”

He took his time folding her into his arms. “I know.”

“I… am still surprised you were willing to leave me for such long stretches of time. I was becoming lonely. At least, now, I know the entire ordeal was with the aim of creating a truly spectacular pair of shorts.”

He shook with silent laughter against her. “Yeah. Though… I was also trying to leave you alone.”

Her arms pressed him extra-tightly for a beat of her pulse. “Why?”

Two puffs of air exited him quick, fluttering the hair near her temple. “Because it’s been so hard to.”

The shadow in his eyes had risen to the surface, bared for her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said, soft, her lips near his, her eyes treating each of his to touch after touch of her sincerity.

Link cupped her face and kissed her, his lips a bare brush, a gift of pure emotion, nothing taken. “It was. Shhh- I know. I know what you’d say, but it was my fault. I dropped. And it wasn’t because I couldn’t stand. It was because-“ a disgusted laugh left him- “it hurt.”

“Link,” she said, aghast. “The gloom killed your arm while still upon your body! It took even your shoulder. You were in agony-“

“But I could have stayed standing.” The loathing in his unfocused stare found her shrinking, though she knew it directed toward himself. “It would’ve saved me about half a second. When you fell. And I’d have caught you. As it was, I felt the air from your fingers as I missed.”

She couldn’t stop shaking her head, touching his face, his hair. “Please. Please, my love, do not do this to yourself. Do you not see…?“ She straightened. “You do. You do see. For if you didn’t, you would never be willing to leave me alone for a single instant of the rest of my life, ever. Yet you already have. You’ve intentionally forced yourself to do so. And why?”

His eyes shut under her hands’ ministrations. “Because I don’t want to drive you nuts.”

She nodded, her forehead against his so he could feel it despite his shuttered eyelids. “Which means you recognize constant, incessant vigilance is unreasonable. And if it is unreasonable under normal circumstances, it is certainly unreasonable in the case of an agonizing injury—one single moment in relation to it, and that is all.” She kissed his cheek. “It is not. Your. Fault.”

A tear met the bow of her lip.

“Oh, Link,” she said, kissing it away.

“It feels like it is,” he said on nearly no air, his diaphragm having already crushed the rest from him.

She took him against her shoulder as he shook. Saltwater jumped in fits and starts between the peach fuzz at the nape of her neck. She stroked his hair. “I know,” she said. “I know it does. We will work on this together, Link. Alright? When you feel this way, please speak to me.”

He nodded against her, the movement slowed by a nuzzle.

“And also… I do not at all mind you being my barnacle.”

A laugh burst from his mouth, cooling the freshly laid tracks of moisture on her.

“Please,” she chuckled. “Do so as much as you wish. In fact, do so even more, for I enjoy the unique sensation of my strides riding entirely upon yours.”

“You got it,” he said, his hand running warm over her back, as though he were the one comforting her.

She returned the gesture.

When Link recovered enough for his stomach to rumble, she insisted he sit. She served him the one flapjack he’d successfully cooked. She made the rest, and she did quite a good job of it, too (though in fairness, Link had already prepared the batter—by far the trickier part of the task).

They ate on the same side of the table, always touching. While Link had been right—she did want to study the pond-pocket carefully, and sooner rather than later—the day's priorities had changed. She decided to forego her investigation in favor of bed, where Link enthusiastically joined her.

Late at night, Link burst to wakefulness, shooting upright with a cry.

“Whhhhfauuha?” Zelda said, bleary.

“They’re all in on it!” Link said in horror. “Every last one of them. Every single korok.” The look he turned on Zelda might’ve been lucid.

Or he might’ve been sitting up in his sleep.

She just laid the flat of her forearm on his chest and pushed him down, snuggling back up to sleep. He didn’t resist.

“Hi, Hestu,” Link said, his smile completely relaxed.

“Link! It’s good to see you. Did you bring any more seeds for me?”

Link’s smile widened. “Actually, today I brought the Princess to see you.”

“The PRINCESS?! Shakala!!!” Hestu waved his maracas in a ponderous mockery of semaphore.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Hestu,” Zelda said. “Now please, in no uncertain terms, explain precisely why you manipulated Link into delivering thousands upon thousands of korok droppings to you in exchange for your inventory expansion services.”

The maracas went utterly still.

Zelda’s smile remained pleasant.

“Mmmm?” rumbled the Deku Tree’s voice. “What has my grandson been doing?”

Hestu remained balanced on a single, awkward, stubby leg, maracas-out, his only movement a slight shivering of the leaves in his branches. Then something hit the ground with a deep thump.

“I- I’ll be right back!” Hestu said, his wood-moustache shivering as he scampered with all the grace of a land-manatee down the path toward Mido Swamp.

Link stepped forward, feet shoulder-width apart, eyes groundward. He nodded with a sniff.

“What is it?” Zelda asked.

Link tilted his head. “Well. You know that saying about shitting bricks?”

Zelda peered curiously past him. “Oh. My.”

“Yeah.”

“Well.” She clasped her hands. “Perhaps we should collect it.”

Link took an extremely long moment to turn and look at her.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

Link burst into relieved laughter.

“I couldn’t resist,” Zelda said.