Fortune Favors the Courageous

Chapter 15: Destination

Gravity ceased, and her legs slowed so her feet could stay on the ground. "My favorite...?"

At first he didn't notice. "Yeah, your favorite flower, what is it?"

It was such a simple question, of course she knew the answer. She'd known it long before Mido snuck her out to look at the stars. She'd rehearsed her answer innumerable times in her head, waiting for the day he asked her that same question. He never did.

Link then noticed her decrease in pace, but mistook it for thoughtfulness. He wore an easy smile. "Guess it was a harder question than I thought."

Finally, Zelda sighed. "My favorite flower is a Silent Princess."

Her tonal shift, it snuffed Link's enthusiasm like a candle. "Oh."

It was obvious he'd gleaned the irony of the allegory from the name alone, but she felt the need to carry on with the rest of her spiel anyway. "It's a rare, endangered species. Despite our efforts, we can't grow them domestically yet. The Princess can only thrive out here in the wild. All that we can hope... is that the species will be strong enough to prosper, on its own."

Link was silent for a moment. Her explanation only further confirmed why they both knew it was her favorite. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness."

The pity shouldn't have startled her. She'd always braced for it from Mido, but he shouldered the same prophecy as her, and she thought it'd be a point of deeper emotional connection between them. "Why are you sorry?" she asked Link almost accusingly.

But it didn't need to be said. Your favorite flower is just like you.

And it was true; Zelda had always believed that if she could live outside the confines of the castle that she, too, would thrive. But so far, her faith had been just as rare and endangered as before the Blood Moon.

"You've given this a lot of thought," he commented.

"I suppose I have."

"Do you..." he scratched behind his ear, "want to talk about it?"

She focused her attention on Storm. "What's there to talk about? It's just a flower."

"Not the flower, you. And what's it's been like. Knowing you've been expected to save the world since before you could walk."

"I don't really have a say in the matter, do I?"

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you don't get to feel things about it."

Liar. Her feelings were just as irrelevant. The clerics, her father—Hylia Herself didn't give a damn what the princess felt. It didn't matter, yet the emotions clawed up her throat anyway. "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right, I probably won't," he agreed, "but I'd like to try if you'd like to share."

The emotions climbed higher, pooling in her eyes. Where was this magnanimity coming from? What was he trying to get from her? Did he think opening her heart would allow Hylia's power to pour out like a river? As if she hadn't shredded every inch of it apart looking for the headwater herself?

"It must have been really hard for you," he pushed.

Why, why, why?

She was afraid using her voice would give her away, although her inability to respond or look him in the eyes was just as betraying. "It was," was all she could risk getting out.

Link seemed to sense her reluctance. "If you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine too. But I'd gladly listen if you ever decide you do wanna talk about it."