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Today, Link imagined her as a foreigner.
She came from Termina, had a thick accent, and often said, “How do you say…?” She was here for the summer on a research trip, and at the end of the season she would return to a small town in a distant country to write an obscure archeology book Link would one day find years from now, when she was just a distant memory. She would bike in the early morning to a dusty library to write in a leather notebook and eat pastries her neighbor baked. One day they would accidentally meet at a hotel bar, and she would find him charming and funny.
Yesterday, Link imagined her as a painter.
In reality, he knew nearly nothing about her. Everything he did know he gleaned from watching her, and that was still barely any information. He knew she absentmindedly ran her delicate hands through her long, golden hair when she was reading. He knew she liked to braid it when she needed a break, and then let it loose when she biked away. He knew her milky skin turned pink when she sat in the sunlight for too long. He knew she preferred jean shorts and loose t-shirts with vintage lettering. He knew she loved the museum.
Based off of her appearance, he assumed she had to be around the same age as him, or maybe he just wished it. Was she also eighteen years old, just a few months away from attending university? Maybe she was deceptively young looking but actually worked in a bank and had a husband? He constantly wondered.
At first he tried to control himself and actually do his job, but his job as a Visitor Services Associate at the Mila Vah Windfall Museum was boring. By the third day she was the only interesting thing he could see from the front desk, and so he finally gave up and watched her.
He often imagined her as a girl from his high school who was so shy that he had somehow missed her throughout the past eighteen years. Then he would charm her and she would slowly become comfortable around him. One day he’d drive her to the movies in the rain but they wouldn’t want to leave the comfort of the car, so they’d snuggle up and –
Link hadn’t meant to let his imagination run so wildly, but as the time ticked by each shift she seeped deeper into his thoughts until he spun an entire life story for her, many of which ended up with her enthralled by him just as much as he was enthralled by her.
Today she was sitting in the Wintergarden. Link sat at the front desk, as always, and stared at her through the massive window across the lobby. She sat cross-legged on the step of the small, stone fountain in the center of the glass room. Sunlight streamed down from the windowed ceiling, slipped past the leaves of the enclosed trees, and cast dappled rays on her delicate form. She was absorbed with a large book in her lap, so large that Link would guess it was a textbook. Occasionally she would run her hands through her long hair and nibble at her bottom lip. Surrounded by luscious plants, vibrant flowers, and spotted sunlight, Link thought she looked like a princess.
Sometimes he imagined her as royalty, but those dreams always left him feeling distant and hopeless.
There was little to do on his long shifts at the museum, but he found he did not mind the solitary hours. He was happy to look at her and let himself craft stories about her life and his life and how one day they would intertwine in the most elegant way. Often times it felt like fate.
.
He vividly remembered the first day he saw her. It was just the beginning of summer - his last one before he went to university across the country - and his first day at his new job. He had been dressed in jeans and a simple black shirt that had the words Mila Vah Windfall Museum in neat, elegant white letters. That morning he had even brushed his light brown hair, but despite his best efforts it still stuck up a bit in the back.
The Mila Vah Windfall Museum was actually a mansion that had once belonged to a wealthy woman who had very expensive tastes. She was a bold, charming woman who, by the end of her life, had collected so many treasures that she needed a museum for them all. After she died, her children transformed her mansion into a display of all her most prized possessions, from paintings and sculptures to animal skins to rare flowers. The museum was technically just a house of junk, but the junk of Mila Vah Windfall was all incredibly expensive and historic. On his first day, Link was required to wander through the rooms to become familiar with the layout and collection. He passed through room after ornate room, each time surprised at what this woman had managed to collect. She had soldier’s greaves from the Reestablishment Era, portraits of her done by Hyrule’s most famous artists, skeletons of Lynels, and even diamond encrusted lingerie.
Despite the vastness of the collection, the museum was not as popular as Link would have thought. It resided on the outskirts of Akkala, high on a hill and surrounded by gigantic trees. Not many people from the small neighboring towns had interest in making the trek, all except for one.
When she came in on his first day he had been ready to greet her as he had done with the few other guests - an overzealous smile and cheery welcome - but she ignored him and strolled past him straight into the Wintergarden. At the time he had just been amazed by her presence. She was beautiful, and he wanted to know her, yet she also had a haughty, unattainable air about her that just made him even more intrigued.
She was there nearly every day of the week from morning to early afternoon. Often times she would read, but she also frequently strolled through the rooms, taking notes in her tiny, leather notebook, and sometimes she would even draw. On these days that she wasn’t in the Wintergarden, Link would make more walkthroughs of the museum. He was supposed to check for discarded maps, but he just liked to see what she was doing.
Sometimes he tried to busy himself with something besides her, but he would always go back to dreaming of finally walking over and making conversation. He had never heard her speak before. He wondered how she sounded. He wondered if they even spoke the same language. He wondered if she would like him.
He generally liked his days off since he got to sleep in and wander around town with a few friends. Sometimes his grandma would give him some money and he’d take his younger sister out for ice cream. Sometimes, though, he found himself thinking of her and he would wait anxiously until the day came where he would work at the museum again.
.
A month into his job and he hadn’t gotten any better at filling his long hours with something besides watching the mysterious girl. He also hadn’t gotten the nerve to talk to her, mostly because he had no idea what he would even say. Hi, I just wanted to know if any of the many daydreams I had about you were remotely accurate? He had a feeling that would not go over well.
Sometimes when the days were particularly sunny and the amount of visitors particularly low, Link would get so bored he would even attempt doodling. He mostly just colored in the words on the note pad. Today, he was bold enough to attempt flowers. The person who worked before him had drawn intricate flower petals with many patterns and colors. They had left the doodle on the desk, and so Link felt like challenging himself and copying the intricate designs. He was surprised by how absorbed he became in the task. His lines were sloppy and uneven, but he was determined to get better.
“Excuse me?”
Link reluctantly looked up from his masterpiece of a doodle, only to freeze at the sight before him. The mysterious girl who had shown up every shift without fail was now standing right in front of him. He had never seen her this close before. Her face was gracefully round, her pink lips small and cute, and her long hair was a luscious gold. She had stuck a neon pink pencil behind her ear. Her doe eyes were a striking sea green that held such an intensity he thought for sure she knew everything about him, even the fact that he daydreamed about her constantly.
In his shock, he had not replied to her. He stared dumbly at her and noticed that she had a light smattering of freckles across her pale skin.
She lifted a brow. “Hello?”
So, she did speak his language.
“H-h-hi,” Link stammered as if his mind was a computer that had just sputtered to an end. He then abruptly stood up from his chair, accidentally knocking his pen down to the floor.
She paused for a moment and studied him carefully, likely calculating his level of sanity. Her eyes then traveled down to the desk where she noticed his many attempts at drawing flowers. She didn’t say anything, but he knew she must have been judging him for his doodles. His face was becoming redder by the second, and though the museum was required to be at a comfortable temperature, he felt suddenly hot.
“Right,” she said, regaining her composure and remembering why she came in the first place. She took a breath, and then explained in a rush, “There is an error in one of your exhibits. The plaque for the vase depicting the Battle of Lake Kolomo is incorrect. The year should be 1456 at the earliest, since that is when the battle actually took place, and currently it is 1356, which is preposterous because the coalition at Lake Hylia hadn’t even been formed yet. I am sure one of your curators made a simple error, but if there are any questions to my reasoning I am happy to discuss it. I do believe that the vase was made in 1457 since creating pottery took a fair amount of time back then and so it would have been at least a few months. I wouldn’t estimate the vase was made any later than 1460 since that was the year when new pigments were introduced to Hyrule and there are very few colors in this vase. Anyway, please let the appropriate party know of the error and that I am here to explain my reasoning if need be.”
Link could only stare. None of that had registered.
“Sorry,” he said slowly, waking up from his daze. “Could you say that again?”
The girl audibly sighed. “Please tell the curator of the East Wing section to come to the front desk because there is an error in the plaque,” she said, annoyance creeping into her voice.
“Oh,” Link said simply, blinking a few times before he finally felt alert again. “Right, okay…so for complaints you need to fill out this comment card and then – ,”
“No, this isn’t a complaint about the bathroom not having enough toilet paper – which, by the way, it doesn’t,” she interjected, leaning against the counter. “This is a flagrant error in the exhibit, and who knows how long that has been there? This needs to be addressed now.”
Link was still taken aback, now by her boldness and confidence. She gazed at him with those intense green eyes, waiting for him to follow her commands.
Remembering his training, Link placed the complaint card in front of her and replied, “I can assure you that we respond to all of our complaints promptly. This will be dealt with shortly once you have filled out the card.”
“Really?” she replied skeptically, leaning farther over the counter to glare at him. “How promptly?”
“Um…” Link stumbled as he tried not to notice how much closer she had gotten. “Very…promptly…”
They stared at each other for a moment in which Link wondered how far she was going to push this. He assumed she was wondering the same thing.
“Fine,” she resigned. She slipped the pencil out from behind her ear and quickly filled out the form with brisk movements. When she was done she slipped the pen back into her ear, gave one last final glare, and left the building.
Once she was gone, Link quickly looked at her complaint form. She had ignored the lines of the paper and the sections that had requested the date, name, and email; instead, she just wrote in large letters:
Battle of Lake Kolomo is wrong – call me.
Beneath that she wrote a phone number and signed off with her name in bold, confident strokes.
Zelda.
For a moment Link looked at the door in a daze. Zelda was not at all what he had been expecting.
As if on autopilot, Link placed the complaint card in the slot where all the other cards go. He really did hope this error would be fixed promptly.
.
The next day the girl – Zelda – entered as she always did: quickly and without a single glance towards Link. She didn’t go off into the Wintergarden today, but instead headed straight for the staircase into the heart of the museum. Link felt an odd mix of both relief and disappointment. Now that he had learned her name and actually had an interaction with her, which he began to realize maybe hadn’t gone that well, he couldn’t predict how his shift would go. Would she ignore him? Could he continue to spend his hours imagining storylines for her if he knew her name? Things just felt different and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet.
He was so worried about the future of his daydreams that he didn’t even notice her approaching until she slapped a hand on the desk in front of him. Link’s head jerked up with a start to see her staring at him with those keen emerald eyes.
“It hasn’t been fixed.” She stated.
It took Link a moment to process her words. “Oh,” he replied simply. After a second, he swallowed the lump in his throat and continued with more confidence than yesterday. “I’m sorry, Miss. I am sure it will be fixed soon.”
She glared at him a moment, and he could tell she was calculating her options on how to proceed. Like the day before, she huffed “fine,” and walked away from the desk.
.
The next day followed the same pattern. She briskly walked into the museum and headed straight for the East Wing, and then she briskly walked back to the front desk. She informed Link that the sign remained unfixed and Link assured her that it would be fixed soon, even though he had no idea if that was true. This time she didn’t even say fine, just glared for a moment and then stomped away, her long golden hair swishing behind her with flair.
The same thing happened the following two days. Whenever she spoke to him Link really wanted to do something different – maybe offer to look at the sign with her, or ask why she cared so much – but he would always fall back into the same instinct because her presence made him inexplicably nervous and excited.
He didn’t understand why she had this effect on him. He knew he was prone to romantic, elaborate day dreaming, but this was the first time he had actually felt genuinely infatuated with somebody. Much to his embarrassment, he was a hopeless romantic, and for some reason he was enthralled by her. He must have dreamt of every possible life for her – one where she was popular in the city, studious in a faraway land, a princess in disguise – but somehow he had never dreamt of her as she truly was, and that was perhaps the most exciting part of it all.
.
At the end of the week the sign had finally been fixed. Link knew this before she came in that day, and he was unexpectedly nervous when she walked in. Would she thank him? Would he finally be able to say something substantial and she would think he actually had a brain? He frantically thought of different scenarios and how he would respond to them in a way that would make her want to hang out with him more.
He was ashamed for the disappointment he felt when she returned from the East Wing only to go straight to the Wintergarden, not even glancing his way.
For a day Link denied that her ignoring him had any impact on him at all. By his second shift he had accepted that he was disappointed. He tried to go back to inventing a storyline for her, this time using the small bits he knew that he got through their interactions to fill in the gaps, but it wasn’t the same. He didn’t have the same engagement with his daydreams like he usually did. He was tired of wondering what she was like. Now he wanted to know.
By his third shift, he was so incredibly bored that he did something incredibly stupid.
It didn’t take her nearly as long to notice as he had expected, and for that he was grateful. He had just finished restocking the pamphlets when she approached the front desk. She stood proudly before him with her hands on her hips and her head held high. By now he had time to prepare himself so that he was bold enough to look her in the eye and not glance away.
“There’s another error,” she stated. “In the West Wing, the sign for the Rito Tapestry of Voo Lota says that the Voo Lota Shrine is in the province of Hebra, but it is actually in the province of Tabantha.”
She spoke in a rush, like her mouth couldn’t keep up with her brain, and it threatened to rattle Link again, but he remained focused. He fought his instincts this time to go back to what he always said, and instead replied with, “So, are you really into history?”
“Excuse me?” She said defensively, crossing her arms.
“You just know so much about it,” he answered, trying to keep a calm exterior when he felt total panic on the inside. “You must really like history.”
“Oh, goddesses, no,” Zelda rolled her eyes. “I detest history. It’s almost entirely memorization, a little bit of philosophical thought, but far too stagnate for me.”
“Oh,” he said dumbly, caught off guard again by her answer. He had thought for sure that she was some kind of history buff. He did not expect somebody who knew all of these random details to hate it. “How do you know so much then?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, some things you just hear and it sticks, you know. Like when you’re listening to music and you don’t even realize that you have somehow learned all the words to a song you don’t even like.”
Link looked at her skeptically. “Yeah, but that’s for music, not for geography or historical facts.”
“What’s the difference?” She responded, and Link was amazed again by the intensity in her striking green eyes. He had a feeling she was rarely wrong.
Instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “Are you a genius? And I don’t mean somebody who has a few good ideas, but I mean a real, certified genius who could read at six months and do calculus in fifth grade.”
She blinked a few times, taken aback, and her cheeks had a hint of red in them now. She looked down at her feet for a second, and he realized it was the first time she had looked away from him during their many interactions.
“The odd thing is,” she said, moving right past his question as she leaned against the counter. “The sign was accurate before, and now suddenly somebody changed the information to something that is completely inaccurate.”
She peered at him curiously and he tried not to smile. “Hm, that is odd,” he agreed. “Thank you for letting us know, will you please fill out this comment card so that we can fix the issue?”
Her lips turned up into a wry smile, and this time he felt himself blushing under her sharp yet amused gaze. He slipped the comment card in front of her but she didn’t even glance at it. “I expect this to be fixed promptly,” she said in an almost teasing way.
“Of course,” he put on his most charming grin and she glanced at him suspiciously one last time before sauntering away, leaving the comment card untouched.
Hours later, once she let her hair down and left the museum, he grabbed the original sign from the drawer. He discretely returned to the tapestry and switched the signs, tossing the incorrect one in the trash on his way back.
.
It took longer for her to notice the next error, but three days later he was thrilled to see her marching towards his desk again with the same mix of confidence and irritation at there being false information in the world.
It was an especially hot summer day so she had her golden hair in a loose bun. She wore a navy tank top that showed her pale shoulders and a smattering of freckles along her collarbone. Link was jealous of her comfortable attire – a black cotton shirt and pants was not exactly great for this summer heat.
“There’s another error,” she said. Unlike the last time, however, she was smiling. Link hoped she was smiling because of him. “On the Terminan translation for the Book of Vows, one of the words is in present tense when it should be in past tense.”
“I’m not surprised, but you know Terminan?” he asked, trying once again to seem calm and professional but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.
“Not very well,” she admitted. “Just enough basic grammar to know that the sign is incorrect.”
“Will you fill out a comment card?” He asked.
“No,” she answered, and then spun around and left.
.
The next time the error was an incorrect date that was off by a year, then the wrong type of rock for a sculpture, then an artist’s first and last name were switched. She caught every single one. Each time she strode confidently to the front desk and announced the flaw. He hoped she played along because she got a reason to speak with him, but he was confident that she just loved to test her knowledge.
On a particularly rainy day she approached him again. “There’s another error,” she didn’t even wait for him to ask what it was. “The sign for the taxidermy crane says the scientific name is Dromaius Novaehollandiae, but it’s actually Gruidae.”
He opened his mouth to reply but she suddenly leaned in much closer than before and his words caught in his throat.
“Make it harder next time,” she whispered. “This one was too easy.”
She quickly jumped away and walked back to her spot, leaving Link stunned and his heart swollen with an undeniable crush.
.
Link tried his best to keep his eyes on the old women he was talking to, but he could feel Zelda’s gaze on him and he never had to work so hard to just look at something. He gave his usual speech about handicap accessible ramps, and if he smiled a little more than usual he would not admit it was because the mysterious girl finally seemed interested in him.
It had been a week since Zelda approached him and hinted that she knew his game. She didn’t always solve his inaccuracies within a day, but his most recent one had stumped her. On the third day he heard from two of the guards that she had been circling the museum all day reading each placard multiple times, looking more frustrated as time went on. A whole week later and she still had no idea what he had done.
Now she seemed to think the best plan of action was to sit in the Wintergarden and stare at him like he was some kind of specimen on a microscope. Her attentions made him flustered, hot, and a little bit light-headed, all of which he tried to keep hidden but he knew he was doing a poor job of it.
“You feeling okay, young man?” One of the elderly ladies asked, peering up at him through her half-moon glasses.
Link chuckled nervously and continued his spiel about elevators, ignoring her question.
He soon said goodbye to the group of ladies just as his manager came up to watch the desk while he went on his lunch break. He took his paper bag out from the drawer and began to walk across the lobby to the employee break room as he always did. Halfway there, however, Zelda stepped right in front of him.
For a second she just glared at him, but then she said, “Let’s get lunch.”
Link’s heart skipped a beat. Although he became incredibly nervous, he obviously agreed.
.
“Tell me about yourself,” Zelda ordered as she took one of his grapes from his lunch bag and popped it into her mouth.
They sat on top of the hill just above the museum in the shade of a large tree. It was a cloudy summer day, but the air was warm and the gentle breeze was a relief against his flushed face. They sat side by side on the grass. Link munched on his meager sandwich while Zelda stole his grapes.
“What do you want to know?” He asked.
“Anything that will help me figure out what you’ve changed this time,” she replied, gazing out at the dense forest that surrounded the museum.
“So you want a clue,” he clarified and her sharp green eyes snapped to him.
“No,” she said defensively. “I don’t want you to give it away. I just need to figure you out more and that will help me solve this puzzle.”
Link wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Did he mind being just a game to her? He felt like he should have some dignity and be offended, but he was too excited to be talking to her to care.
“So,” she prompted as she leaned forward with her arms on her knees, looking at him keenly. “Let’s start with your name.”
He chuckled around a mouthful of food. “I can’t believe you don’t know my name after all this time. It’s Link, by the way.”
“Link,” she muttered, mulling it over. “Not what I expected.”
“Oh really? What did you think it was?”
“I’ve always just thought of you as Mr. Misinformed since you’re spreading misinformation to the world.”
Link let out a short laugh, nearly choking on another mouthful of his sandwich.
She popped another grape into her mouth. “Why do you work at the museum?” she continued.
“Needed money and they were the first people to offer me a job,” he replied simply.
“What do you use the money for?”
He felt it was already becoming an odd line of questioning, but he didn’t hold back. “Saving up for college mostly, sometimes I buy food.”
“When are you going to college?”
“In August.”
“Where?”
“CTU.”
“What will you be studying?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Are you excited?”
“I guess.”
“Are you happy that you’re going to CTU?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t sound thrilled.”
He paused now and looked at her. “Don’t you think it’s my turn to ask you questions?”
“I don’t see the point in that,” she sighed as she flopped onto her back and stared up at the clouds. Her golden hair fanned around her head, blades of grass poking between the strands.
“Well, I do,” Link said, finally finishing his sandwich.
“You ate that quickly,” she stated bluntly.
“I’ve always thought I should become a professional speed eater,” he replied as he began eating his few remaining grapes.
“Is that what you’ll study at university?” she asked teasingly.
Link gave her an amused look, knowing she was trying to steer the conversation back to him.
“So, are you at university or in highschool or neither…?” He asked, trailing off and wishing he had the same confidence she did.
She sighed, clearly annoyed he insisted on asking her questions. In a rush of words, she said, “I’m about to go into my second year at Rhoam University. I’m still undecided in my major but I’m choosing between mechanical engineering and molecular biology. I was born and raised in Castle Town. I’m allergic to bees.”
“There,” she added a second later, smiling slyly at him as the wind played with a few loose strands of her hair. “Now that you know these basic facts, let’s get back to you.”
“Wait,” Link cut in, the words just registering. “You go to Rhoam University.”
“Yes,” she answered simply and he shook his head in amazement. Rhoam University was the top in the country, one of the best in the world, but he wasn’t surprised she was at that school. Plus, Rhoam was in Castle Town, which is where he would be starting in September…
He stopped his thoughts before they spiraled any further down that rabbit hole.
“So then, what are you doing in Akkala?” He questioned, finishing his grapes and moving on to a granola bar.
She was quiet for a moment and looked back to the passing clouds. Her smile had fallen and she looked a bit sad. After a moment, she replied with a bit less confidence than before,
“My father is sick. Nothing life-threatening, but the doctors recommended that he get away from the city to escape the stress of that lifestyle and get some fresh air. So we came to Akkala where there are plenty of trees and nothing ever happens.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Link said quietly, his heart squeezing with sympathy.
“Don’t worry,” she brushed it off, sitting back up again. “It seems to be working well for him.”
They were silent for a second, Zelda staring down at the museum beneath them and Link looking at the pieces of grass now entwined with her hair. He wanted to know more about her father, but didn’t want to push too far.
“Do you like Akkala?” He asked, resisting the urge to pluck the blades out for her.
She shrugged. “It’s fine. I see the appeal, but I don’t have much to do here.”
Link huffed in agreement. That was the story of his life.
“Is that why you’re always at the museum?” He inquired and she looked at him again with a sharp gleam that made his heart flutter.
“Precisely,” she nodded. “This is the most interesting attraction around that I can bike to. And it’s air-conditioned.”
Link chuckled. He always missed the coolness of the museum on his days off.
“Now, enough about me,” she said, regaining the confidence and quickness of her usual self. “I need to learn more about you in order to figure this out.”
And so Link spent the remaining twenty minutes of his break answering an array of seemingly random questions, but apparently it did not suffice. Zelda was still at a loss for what was missing in the museum. Before he returned to his desk, she insisted they get lunch again tomorrow so that she could continue her investigation of his psyche – or something along those lines. Oh, and he needed to bring more grapes too.
Link couldn’t have stopped grinning if somebody paid him to.
.
The next morning Zelda marched right up to the front desk. When she finally stood before him, she let out a big breath and announced, “I’m an idiot.”
Link smirked, already knowing where this was going.
“It was clever of you, to hide it in such plain sight,” she grudgingly conceded, “but last night I came to a revelation and realized what was wrong here.”
“And that is…?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
“Your name tag,” she answered. “It says Pipit but your name is Link.”
“That’s correct,” he grinned, finally able to snap off the wrong name tag that he had been wearing for the past week. “Are you embarrassed it took you that long?”
“No,” she huffed before spinning around and stomping away, clearly both embarrassed and annoyed. Link, on the other hand, felt triumphant.
.
Although Zelda had solved the puzzle, Link was happy that it didn’t stop her from demanding lunch with him. The next few days followed a similar pattern as the one before. During his lunch break they would walk out to the shade of the tree on the hill and Link would eat while Zelda stole his grapes and asked a series of questions that popped out of her stream of conscious. With each day Link was able to get her to answer more and more of his own questions. He discovered that she was in fact a certified genius but only had a love for hard science, nothing that couldn’t be quantified. She told him about a volunteer program she was a part of in Castle Town where she taught chemistry to underdeveloped schools. She talked about her roommates who would drag her out of the library to parties, and how she would sometimes dance by herself in her lab when nobody was around. He also learned that her mother had passed when she was very young, and her father was overworked and often gone, but he was kind and all she had left.
He also learned she enjoyed eating chips and apples, in addition to stealing his grapes.
On Friday it was a complete downpour and so they couldn’t go to their usual spot for lunch. Instead, they ate in the Wintergarden on the same bench Zelda always sat in. The rain pounded on the windowed ceiling, and Link noticed her frequently glancing up at it, enchanted by how the water splattered and rippled on the glass.
“What are you studying all the time?” he asked as Zelda peeled one of his oranges. He was sure to bring two this time so that they could both have one.
“Whatever I feel like,” she answered. “Sometimes when I don’t know what to research I find a random artifact in the gallery and learn all I can about it.”
Link was both amazed and intimidated by her desire for knowledge and her ability to seemingly understand anything if she chose to research it. He wondered if that was what she was doing with him: researching him completely so that she could solve all of his puzzles.
He had nearly forgotten about this game he had started. They had begun speaking more as friends and less about the game. She even smiled at him when she came into the museum now. It was a coy, teasing smile, one that took his attention away from whatever he was working on.
“Can I see your notebook?” he asked, pointing to the leather book she was always vigorously writing in. It sat beside her on the bench, the pages thinning and warping with use.
She shrugged and handed it to him like it was no big deal, but Link felt as if he was holding a very important part of Zelda. The leather was cracked in his hands as he flipped through the pages. The notebook reflected much of Zelda’s own mind. It was overflowing with information, words often becoming smooshed together around the edges and arrows drawn between sections, connecting her disparate ideas. Her handwriting was both messy and elegant, the stems and swoops of her letters long and elegant but tight together.
“Don’t you ever get bored of the museum?” He wondered, running his fingers gently across a doodle she did of a flower. Perhaps they weren’t so different after all.
“Sometimes. I wish I could drive to other places, but all I have is my bike so I can’t get too far anywhere,” she answered.
“Where would you like to go?”
“The old research lab up north,” she replied. “I hear it’s a pretty small, unimpressive museum, but that’s where a lot of scientific advancement took place so I’d like to see it nonetheless.”
And, as if his mind had suddenly disconnected from his mouth, he said without thinking, “I could drive you there if you want.”
Link could feel his face become flushed with embarrassment. Why did he offer that? Would she think it was a date? What if they went and she grew bored of him, or he crashed the car?
“Really?” She exclaimed happily, shocking him out of his panicked thoughts. “Would you really take me?”
“O-of course,” he stammered out. “I mean, if you want to – ,”
“I do!” she jumped in, full of a passion that she always gets when she talked about her studies, or fruitcake. “Can we go this weekend? I’ll pay for gas and whatever else you might need.”
“It’s only forty minutes away.”
“Nevertheless, I will make this the easiest forty minute drive of your life.”
Link highly doubted that considering he was now going to lie awake all night in a mix of panic and excitement. He agreed to take her tomorrow anyway, knowing there was no way he would say no to her.
Later, after they had made their plans and exchanged phone numbers, he returned to his desk and came to an important realization. He didn’t actually own a car.
.
That evening Link had to beg his grandma to let him borrow her car. Even though he would be horribly embarrassed to drive Zelda in it – it was brown with peeling paint and the brakes screeched so loudly dogs would bark – but it would do. He told her that he and some of the boys from school were going to go to the beach for the day. Although he wasn’t doing anything unsavory, he knew that she would become unbearably annoying and thrilled that he was going to spend the day with some girl, so there was no way he was going to tell her. Though she was hesitant at first, she did eventually agree.
“Yes, thank you so much, Grandma,” He said excitedly, kissing her cheek with glee.
“But you should bring Aryll,” she added and his heart dropped to his stomach.
“Grandma,” he started with exasperation but she held a finger up to stop him.
“Poor girl hasn’t been to the ocean in a year. Be a good brother and take her with you. I’ll even give you money for ice cream.”
Link felt guilty – he hadn’t lied to his family since middle school when he stole a candy bar – and now his only hope was that Aryll, his twelve year-old sister, would suddenly hate the ocean and refuse to come.
He was disappointed (but not surprised) to see Aryll bouncing up and down with delight at the prospect of going to the beach tomorrow. What had Zelda done to him? She made him all worked up about going to a museum that he lied to his family and now was in a stupid mess. He supposed he could come clean but then his grandma would definitely embarrass him about going out with a girl and trying to keep it a secret. Shit.
That’s how Link ended up in the car with Aryll on the way to Zelda’s address begging her to lie to grandma and say they went to the beach when instead they were going to a museum up north.
“I’ll do it for a hundred rupees,” She huffed, grinning mischievously at him from the passenger seat. She had always been annoyingly coy and confident while Link felt like a fumbling, awkward boy all the time. He envied how easy everything seemed for her, and then he remembered that she was only twelve and it just made him feel worse.
Despite all that, he still loved her the way brothers do: unconditionally but never to be said aloud.
“That’s absurd,” Link rolled his eyes, steering the car further up the hill towards. “I’ll buy you ice cream.”
“That’s nothing, Grandma told me she gave you money for that,” she retorted. “Just for that, I am making it 150 rupees.”
“Fine, I’ll give you ice cream and ten rupees,” Link countered and she was silent for a moment, pondering the deal.
“That and you fold my laundry for a week,” She replied quickly and Link just shook his head in exhaustion. He didn’t like it, but they were close to Zelda’s address now and he didn’t have any more time to bargain.
“Deal,” he agreed and she squealed with victorious delight. “And don’t be annoying, or ask too many questions, or talk about – ,”
“Wow, you must really like her,” she interrupted with another smirk.
“Shut up,” Link said just as they pulled up in front of the address.
Or at least he hoped it was right. The house was massive and absolutely beautiful with a manicured garden, cobalt paint, and the Hylian flag floating in the breeze outside of their front door. He wondered if anybody else lived with Zelda and her father. Why would two people need three floors to themselves?
As Zelda rushed out of the front door and across the lawn, Link became horribly embarrassed of his Grandma’s car again, and of Aryll who looked positively thrilled to be meeting this mysterious girl Link had tried to hide.
“Get in the back,” Link ordered Aryll but she crossed her arms in refusal.
“I was here first.”
“You aren’t even old enough to sit up front, get back.”
“Fifteen rupees then,” she countered and Link wanted to throttle himself.
“Ugh, fine,” he hastily agreed as Zelda reached the car and Aryll quickly crawled into the backseat.
“Hey,” he greeted her, trying to be as charming and cool as he could in Akkala’s oldest car. The door creaked as she swung it open, and he noticed her wince.
At that moment he really wished he had just continued admiring Zelda from afar. It really was much easier than this.
“Good morning,” she greeted cheerily, plopping into the passenger seat. Even after talking with her for the past week, she still had that unattainable air about her. Her long blonde hair looked paler in the morning light and the sun reflected brilliantly in her emerald eyes. She wore jean shorts and a black t-shrit that had the words Rhoam the Earth on it. Link thought she was the coolest girl he had ever seen.
“Sorry, I had to bring my sister along,” Link apologized nervously as he began to drive again. “This is Aryll.”
Before Zelda could even say hi, Aryll bluntly asked, “Are you rich?”
Link wanted to throttle her now.
“Yes,” Zelda replied without a pause in the same terse, matter-of-fact tone she often used when answering questions. “Are you?”
“No,” Aryll unashamedly replied while Link’s face became scarlet with embarrassment. “What do your parents do?”
“My dad’s a politician of sorts,” she replied, nonplused. “What do your parents do?”
“Mom’s a waitress. Our dad is dead.” Aryll corrected as if it were another ordinary, uninteresting fact. Link kept his eyes on the road even as he felt Zelda glance to him. He had never mentioned his dad. He wondered if she would be weird about it.
For now, at least, the two moved past the topic and continued to bounce questions off of each other. Link was glad that Zelda didn’t seem to be upset about Aryll joining them, and he thought that they got along well. They both were honest and blunt in a way that few people ever are. Link drove in silence as he listened to them talk, and though he was still bitter towards Aryll, he did enjoy learning more about Zelda.
“Do you like Link?” Aryll asked with a teasing lilt to her voice as Link’s face became red again for what felt like the twentieth time that day.
He felt Zelda glance at him again. After a second, she replied with the same mischievousness as Aryll, “He’s alright.” And then the two giggled together and Link once again regretted everything he had ever done to that point in his life.
.
At the Akkala Research Museum, Link learned very little. It was a tiny museum with even less traffic than the Mila Van Windfall Museum. It sat atop a cliff right on the coast of the East Hylian Ocean and the tall, skinny trees swayed at the slightest breeze.
He followed Zelda throughout the museum, his heart squeezing with affection whenever she pointed something out with excitement or jotted a note down in her journal. She possessed an infectious joy and passion when she talked about her studies, and Link couldn’t help but feel a bit of that same enthusiasm, even though he had no idea what she was talking about most of the time.
Thankfully, Aryll stayed out of their way as she was occupied by a children’s interactive exhibit where she could build little robots. It seemed both girls got something out of their visit, but if anybody had asked Link what his favorite part was he wouldn’t have been able to give an answer. All he knew was that his crush on this mysterious girl had grown into something more and he was thoroughly doomed.
After they wandered the museum for a while, they ate some food Zelda had the foresight to pack and sat on a bench beside the cliff. Despite the panic and embarrassment in the morning, Link couldn’t help but feel content with Zelda sitting beside him and a beautiful view of the sea. Zelda and Aryll talked about the little robots that she had been playing with for a while, but then Aryll decided to wander off on her own and explore the small surrounding area. Link and Zelda continued eating their lunch, contently listening to the squawking seagulls and the distant rumble of waves crashing on the beach.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Zelda said quietly, suddenly breaking their comfortable silence.
Link looked to Aryll, who was a ways off chasing the butterflies floating amongst the flower bushes. He swallowed a lump in his throat and tried not to think of his dad.
“Thanks,” he replied a bit awkwardly, never really sure what to say.
“My mother died when I was six,” she added.
Link looked at her now. She had a serene yet sad smile on her face and her eyes gazed out to the horizon. In this cloudy weather, her usually vibrant green irises seemed more teal than emerald. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he trusted that Zelda knew he felt the same useless pity that she felt for him. Instead, he talked about his dad, something he almost never did.
“My dad died a few months before Aryll was born,” he explained quietly. “He was in the military and died in combat overseas. It’s odd…I never really knew him that well, but I miss the idea of what we would have been like if he had come home.”
He stared at his sandwich, no longer interested in it. He had never spoken about that feeling before, but it was a relief to finally voice it.
“Do you…” Zelda started softly, before trailing off in uncertainty. She paused, and then tried again in a frail whisper. “Do you remember what he looked like?”
Link turned to her to see her eyes glistening, but that serene smile was still present. He had a feeling that she wouldn’t like his answer, and that she already knew it, so instead he gently placed his hand over hers and hoped that she gained the same comfort from his presence as he did from her.
This time her smile had warmth in it, and it made the heaviness that had fallen in Link’s heart lighten just a little.
At that point Aryll came back and announced that she was bored. They left the museum soon after with Link driving and everybody quietly listening to the radio. As they drove onto the highway, Link glanced to Zelda to see her looking at him with that warm smile on her face again. He couldn’t help but smile as well, and he felt inexplicably drawn to her even more since he first saw her at the museum.
.
At his following shift at the museum, Zelda brought him peanut butter brownies and a bag of grapes.
“This is me repaying you for taking me to the museum,” she said sweetly, handing over a box of brownies. “Aryll told me you loved chocolate and peanut butter.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Link started, touched by the fact that she took time to make him food, but Zelda quickly moved past him.
“I know, but I did.” She then pulled out a bag of green grapes and plopped them on the desk. “And these are for all the grapes I’ve stolen from you.”
Zelda then glanced to the side and Link followed her gaze, seeing his manager approaching as he usually did in the mornings to check-in.
She lifted a brow. “See you at lunch?”
“Obviously,” Link replied with a wide grin.
She winked at him and then walked back to her usual spot, her hair swishing behind her.
.
Link and Zelda became inseparable after that. When he worked at the museum he would constantly glance at Zelda and she would glance at him, and they would share smiles they thought nobody else could see but them. They weren’t as subtle as they thought though, because soon the security guards in the lobby would tease Link every day.
“You should tell her she looks like a model and you want to make her into a sculpture,” one security guard helpfully supplied, chuckling with his coworker as if they once again spent a few minutes trying to think of museum pick-up lines.
“Oh, oh, how about…are you an artist, because I’m drawn to you,” the other one added.
Link wanted to quit right then as the two guards laughed together beside him at the desk.
When he wasn’t trying to evade the security guards, he looked forward to his lunch breaks where they would lie on the grass beneath the tree on the hill. On particularly slow days, Link would watch her draw flowers in the Wintergarden. On the weekends they would meet up and Link would drive her to some part of Akkala she had never been to. Aryll frequently joined, much to his annoyance but Zelda was always happy to have her. The places they went to were areas none of his peers were interested in – burnt forests, lake shores with high mineral deposits, muddy banks brimming with frogs – but he soon realized he would go wherever she wanted just to spend time with her.
He often wondered how to become more than friends. He dreamed of her boldly marching into the museum, announcing she wanted to date him, and then they would kiss and laugh and it would all be so easy. Occasionally he would seriously consider marching up to her and announcing his wish to date her, but just the thought made him horribly nervous and nauseous. He always reassured himself that he had more time to figure it out, that he would know when the moment was right and it would work itself out.
That’s why when she told him she was going back to Castle Town in two days, he felt like time had passed unfairly quickly.
“What?” he gawked as they walked up the hill during his lunch hour.
“It’s a little early,” she explained. “But we start earlier than CTU does, and I need to move into my apartment before classes overtake my life.”
Link didn’t know what to say, but his disappointment must have been apparent.
“Let’s hang out tomorrow night,” Zelda suggested enthusiastically. “I need to have some more of Lon Lon’s Ice Cream before I go back to Castle Town.”
“That sounds good,” Link agreed, but the usual excitement he felt for their get-togethers was mixed with the dread of her leaving. Nevertheless, they made plans to bike and meet there tomorrow to celebrate her last night.
“It’s not like this will be the last time we will see each other,” Zelda smiled, sensing his distress. “Once you get to Castle Town and settle in, text me and we will meet up. I’ll bring you to some upperclassmen parties.”
“Oh, look at you,” Link teased and rolled his eyes. “You’re just a second year and you think you’re all high and mighty.”
“Better than being a first year,” she jibed back. “But seriously, I’m excited that you’ll be in Castle Town with me. It’ll be nice having another friend there.”
Link just smiled and kept the rest of his concerns to himself. Though they would be in the same city he worried she would become consumed by her rigorous classes and labs and hanging out with better, way smarter friends. He bet all the guys she hung out with had their own cars and could follow along when she spoke of molecules and photons.
Those thoughts plagued his mind for the remainder of his shifts, and they still bounced around in his head as he biked to Lon Lon’s ice cream café the next night. He told himself once again to stop thinking about it and just enjoy their last summer night together, but he wasn’t doing a good job of it.
At the ice cream parlor they laughed and chatted and Zelda got some of her vanilla ice cream on her nose, which was so frustratingly cute Link had to look away. They sat by the pond and watched the fireflies slowly begin to awaken and lazily float around them. She laughed at his jokes and briefly touched his arm. He tried to get the courage to tell her he would miss her horribly for the next few weeks, that he liked how much her intelligence intimidated him, that her energy was vivacious and infectious, and he felt drawn to her like a moth to a lamp.
He didn’t know how to say all of this though. Instead, he just said, “You are nothing like I expected.”
She licked her cone and raised a brow. “Oh really?” She teased. “What did you expect?”
Link smiled and shook his head. Twilight was fading into night but her green eyes were still as bright and as intoxicating as they were in the Wintergarden. Her golden hair fell gracefully around her shoulders, and her cheeks and nose had a hint of red to them, still a bit sun burnt from their latest excursion. He didn’t know if it was because he was inclined to romantic fantasies and all that, but he truly thought she looked as elegant as one of those paintings in the museum even in jean shorts and an old t-shirt.
“I don’t know,” he said after a second. “but you are nothing like I ever imagined.”
“Is that a good thing?” she asked.
He grinned at her. “Very.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Link so desperately wanted to kiss her. His fingers actually ached from resisting the urge to cup her cheek and stroke her hair.
But then she went back to licking her ice cream, and he felt the moment was gone. He asked if she wanted to do anything else that night, but she had an early train in the morning so she decided to head back home.
They slowly walked to their bikes that were propped up against the side of the ice cream shop. It was only a few dozen yards away, but Link frantically spent the entire walk begging time to slow down and thinking of the words to say to show how he felt. All too quickly they arrived at their bikes and Zelda hopped on. She was about to take off when she stopped and looked at him.
She smiled a bit sadly and began slowly, “Well, I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks…”
“Yes,” Link agreed, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.
“You better text me when you arrive,” she ordered with a slight glare.
“Will do.”
What to say? Would she feel the same?
“Well…” she looked to the road and adjusted her pedals. “See you later?”
“Yeah,” Link said even as he internally screamed at himself to stop her and say something different. “See you later.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, shooting him one last weird glance before sighing and adjusting her bike again. She then pushed off the curb and began biking away, her blonde hair floating behind her.
Link watched her till she turned the corner.
He sighed. “Shit,” he said to himself.
Immediately he felt the weight of regret sinking in, and he realized he made a huge mistake. He knew he would never have the perfect words to say, but it would be better to say them than not at all.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed his bike and began to peddle after her as fast as he could. He weaved between a group of moms and their toddlers, past a truck, and even ignored a puppy to try to catch up with her. It didn’t take him long to find her, but he was still as winded as if he had run a mile.
He peddled furiously down the long straight road, easily gaining on her. When he was a few feet behind her, he called out to her and she spun her head around with a start.
“Link?” She called in confusion, braking to a halt.
Link jumped off of his bike before it even came to a complete stop, tossing it into the grass. His breathing was heavy and his heart was beating furiously. She looked at him with confusion, her eyebrows furrowed and her pink lips pursed together.
“You’re like nobody I’ve ever met,” he said in a rush. “I took up more shifts just so we could hang out more. I think I’ve spent a total of fifty rupees just trying to get Aryll to behave so that she wouldn’t embarrass me in front of you. I also risked getting fired every time I switched those signs because you and I both know that’s not okay, but I did it because…because…”
“Because…?” Zelda urged, looking expectantly at him with her big green eyes.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Because I…I like you. A lot. In a, you know, more-than-friends way.”
The grin that immediately broke out on her face was triumphant and wicked and absolutely joyous. Meanwhile, he felt horrified and was ready to sprint all the way home if he had to. She jumped off of her bike and snapped the kickstand into place, never taking her sharp gaze off of him. In just a few steps she was standing before him, her doe eyes gazing up at him and her hands held sweetly behind her back. For a second she just stared at him, and Link forced himself to hold her mischievous gaze even though he was terrified out of his mind.
“It’s about time,” she finally said, and then she tugged on his shirt and brought his lips down to hers.
He was stunned at first. His brain didn’t reboot until she was just starting to pull away, but then it was like he snapped back to life again. His arms circled around her waist and held her against him as his lips moved with hers. Her lips were softer than he ever imagined. Her silky blonde hair tickled his arms and her sweet smell washed over him.
He then started laughing and had to break the kiss for a breath. She laughed with him as they held each other, their foreheads pressed together.
“I’m sorry that took me so long,” he apologized.
“Seriously,” she playfully rolled her eyes at him.
He gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Well, why didn’t you make a move?” He asked, not at all accusatory.
“I don’t know…” she shrugged, blushing and looking up at him with those big green eyes that he could never disobey.
“No, I know,” he replied and she laughed merrily again before reaching up to resume their kiss.
They gently held each other and shared kisses again until a minute later when a car whizzed by and honked at them, making them blush and laugh all over again.
“You better come to Castle Town quickly,” she demanded as Link picked his bike off the ground. “I am very impatient.”
“Oh, I know,” he replied and she swatted playfully at his arm. He grabbed her hand and pulled her in for another kiss. He was worried he was starting to become addicted to them.
“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, giving her one last hug.
“I’ll see you soon,” she echoed, pressing her lips to his cheek. They finally stepped away from each other and got back on their bikes.
“Bring grapes,” Zelda ordered as she slowly began to bike away from him.
“Obviously,” he replied and she smiled at him over her shoulder.
He watched her bike away, already imagining all the things they would do together in Castle Town.