It seemed that the world was convinced to force Link from bed, sending a sunbeam to infiltrate the window drapes and spotlight his face as well as a messenger to knock raucously at his chamber door. He sleepily stretched and slid from bed, grumbling general insults toward the world as he went to put an end to the knocking.

"Mail for you, sir!"

The courier, a boy Link assumed to be the same age as himself, smiled a little too broadly and spoke a little too cheerfully. Link accepted the bundle of letters but realized he had forgotten tip money.

He motioned to give him a moment, then turned and dug several coins out of his desk drawer. He returned and dropped the gold into the boy's hand.

"Thank ye, sir." The courier bowed graciously and left Link to examine his bundle. Excitement quickly replaced curiosity, however, and he found the nearest chair so that he could read them.

The first letter was from the postmaster, explaining that the mail had been delayed due to the weather.

The second was from Zelda.

His fingers shook as he pried open the wax seal and straightened the folded paper. He slowly took in each word, laughing at her good spirits. He now felt more comfortable reading, but still stumbled over longer words. Her reassurance that she would be happy at Ellefson Manor relieved him, but reminded him that she would not be home soon. The last line, instructing him to pass her love to her father but to keep some for himself, made him smile.

He put the first letter down and read the second.

"A ball?" he wondered instantly. He knew how much Zelda abhorred most balls, but suddenly it seemed her favorite activity. He frowned, half happy that she was having a grand time, and half upset that she was having such a grand time without him.

He was further distressed upon her first mention of Aurick Salbatore. A sudden chill ran from the top of his scalp to the base of his spine; a new man. He had not heard the name, but it did not surprise him. There would be many new men. Yet the way she spoke of him so frivolously bade him take notice. The other girls' reactions also deeply frightened him. Why would they have such a disagreeable opinion of the man?

A chill gripped his chest as she remarked of his good qualities; to her he was charming, handsome, and a fine dancer indeed. He read and reread the line about Aurick's eyes; professed to be as blue as his own, but without some mischievous spark that she attributed to them. Link put down the letter and hurried to his mirror, but found nothing particularly special about his eyes. He returned to his letter.

"Perhaps while I am here there shall be a wedding, or at least an enj..engagement! How exciting that would be!" Link read her words aloud and frowned, wondering if she knew how much her father hoped for that very thing to occur, and how much he hoped for it to be avoided.

As he began the paragraph about her voyage into town, he found his opinion of her new friend Aurick to diminish greatly. There was too much controversy surrounding the man. She mentioned a "sordid secret" between her cousin Elinor, Aurick, and her friend Alazne that made him cringe. What sort of man was this?

"If only I could have gone with her...," he whispered to himself.

He remembered warning her that he would not be there to bring her down if she was carried away, and nor would he be there to catch her if she fell. His sheer powerlessness inflamed his roiling stomach.

Link hurried to his desk and took a sheet of paper from the supply the King had provided him. He dipped the pen into the inkwell and sighed, then put the nib to paper and allowed his thoughts to flow. The great deal of reading he had done the past week helped him organize his ideas and make coherent sentences. This is what came of them.

Zelda straightened her shoulders and bit her lip sadly. Three weeks had passed at Ellefson Manor, and yet another day had come and gone with still no word from home. She feared her letters had gone astray, but her aunt informed her that the recent snowfall may have hindered the efforts of the mail carts to travel the multiple-day journey. Still, her heart was heavy.

Zelda wiped the tip of her quill and sat it in its stand, then capped her ink bottle. Picking up her letter, she blew gently upon the surface to dry the dark ink. She nearly dropped the letter when she heard frantic knocking at her door.

"Zelda! Zelda! You've got a letter!" The exuberant voice rang above the knocking. Zelda quickly made her way to the door and opened it widely.

"Elinor? Are you still awake?"

"Oh dear, were you asleep?" Elinor, evidently back to her chipper self, seemed only mildly surprised. "I didn't think to see if you were awake before I knocked. So sorry! I just returned from town and brought you this." She thrust forth a folded piece of paper, sealed with a simple white wax circle with a L carved into it. Seeing the rudimentary attempt at a signet seal struck Zelda funny, and she could not help but laugh.

"I was not. Thank you ever so much for delivering this!" Zelda took the letter and offered a warm smile. "What time is it?"

"But one-thirty. Time for me to be off to bed! Enjoy your letter! Goodbye!"

With that, Elinor bounded down the hall toward her own room, leaving Zelda to examine the letter privately.

Seconds later her door was shut and locked, the wax seal had been broken, and she was sitting at her desk, poring over the words.

"Oh goodness...," Zelda murmured as she read the first paragraph. "I suppose this would be the first letter he's ever had to write!"

The second paragraph drew a laugh and a broad grin. At the last line, her smile faded and her eyes glistened.

The third paragraph she read once and then read a second time, paying attention to the awkwardness of his phrasing and tone. Deep down she felt guilty, knowing that her thoughts had been rather preoccupied as of late and had not dwelt on him quite as much as they might have.

After gently refolding the letter, she slid it inside her desk drawer. She picked up her own letter to him and her quill pen, dipped the pen in its well, and proceeded to add this to the bottom:

PS: Since I have written the above, I have received your first letter. Rest
assured, my friend, you shall remain in my thoughts always. Oh, how I
miss you!

It was the moments of inactivity, those periods where Link could not find a thing to do, which caused him the most frustration.

As the King had finished his work early, Link found himself with a great deal of free time. He did not feel like reading, for he had read nearly every night for several weeks. Nor did he desire fishing, as the weather was far too cold. The only thing he could think to do was visit some old friends in town.

This was not his preferred activity, as they would certainly tease him and ask piercing questions that would only bring his mind to bear on Zelda instead of getting her out of it, as would be the purpose. Yet it was the lesser evil, for at least he would be doing something.

Link washed his face and hands in his washbasin, made sure his clothes were tidy, and swung his cloak around his shoulders. Town was only a short distance away, through the castle gates (after greeting the guards), down the road a bit, and then into the great settlement that was Castleton. His destination was the Castleton Inn, a grand old place with an eatery frequented by the entire town. He hoped to enjoy a meal, perhaps a round of watery ale, and a night of conversation with old friends.

He was not expecting the burst of surprise and excitement that entered with him.

"'ell, watta we 'ave 'ere! Link!"

He heard the voice before he saw its source, and was quickly enveloped in a great hug.

"Hello, Cymry," Link groaned, trying to loosen the big man's grip. Once Cymry's arms were loosened, he found himself being greeted, hugged, and shaken by a crowd, some of which he did not recognize.

"Let's take Link 'ere to a booth, and get food in 'em! Look how skinny!" Cymry dragged Link away from the crowd and pointed him toward a booth. The rest of the crowd dispersed, eyeing him curiously. "Sit yerself down. What'll ye 'ave?"

"You're waiting tables now?" Link asked, picking up a menu. "I never would have thought."

"Eh, I got soft in me old age," he quipped, grinning broadly. Link was completely caught off guard by Cymry throwing back his head and bellowing, "Lelari! Hathorn! Rory!"

"Have you been well?" Link asked, watching for the three whose names Cymry had called. They were old acquaintances from before he had moved to the castle, as was Cymry.

"Very!" Cymry exclaimed. "Me n' Lelari got married!"

Link's jaw dropped and he was about to respond when the woman, Lelari, wrapped herself around her husband and beamed. The other two men, her brothers Hathorn and Rory, stood beside her.

"Hello, Link," she purred provocatively. Link eyed her cautiously, his castle-cultured mind instantly finding fault with Lelari's revealing dress. She was the barmaid, after all.

"Greetings, Lelari," he nodded. "Congratulations."

"Thank ye. So what brings ye out of the castle?"

"I was wondering the same," Rory commented, crossing his arms.

"Me also," Hathorn chirped.

"I heard ye lady's up and left ye. Gone to da nort, to visit 'er relatives," Lelari taunted flirtatiously. "So what do ye do when yer birdie leaves 'er nest? Ye venture out to talk with the likes of us!"

Rory agreed. "Dat princess must keep ye locked up awful tight, Link... We've not seen ye in at least a year, maybe more."

"A year at least," Hathorn nodded.

Link bit his lip. This visit was not turning out the way he had intended.

"When did the two of you marry?" he asked Cymry.

"Been seven munts now. Me and da missus'r livin' upstairs and helpin' run dis place."

"Impressive! I would never have guessed...."

"Jealous, Link?" Lelari wrapped her arm around her husband's waist. "Jealous, because ye missed yer chance?"

"Ah, no, Lelari, not at all, in fact I'm quite happy for...."

"Why would 'e be jealous o' ye, sis? E's got a princess to 'ave his way with." Rory laughed mockingly. Link's eyes narrowed.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. It's not like that...."

"'Ay, lad, stop pickin' on 'im! Be gone wit ye!" Cymry shooed the younger man away. Hathorn followed closely behind. "Now, Link, what does bring ye here?" He slid in the booth across from Link, and Lelari slid in beside him.

"Does Rory have a problem with me?" Link asked, watching the younger man weave through the diners and dancers.

"Nah, Rory gets dat way sometimes. He's just jealous. Ye've got a princess t'romance, and he's got nothin'."

"I don't know if I'd call it romance," Link commented. "But she is a very dear friend of mine, and I would be lying if I said I did not miss her."

"Aw, come now... Ye don't have a single feelin' for 'er? No love, no lust?" Lelari asked, snuggling closer to Cymry.

"I suppose I would be lying if I said I did not," Link laughed, trying to relax.

"Ye know what dey all say, don't ye?" Cymry asked.

"No, what do they say? And who are they?"

"The townspeople. They all tink you and dat princess are gonna git hitched and you're gonna be our king some day along. Imagine dat, a king!"

"Mmm... a King," Lelari teased. "A crown'd look right purty on dat handsome head o' yours."

"Wretched woman...," Cymry said, pulling his wife closer to him. She giggled helplessly and fought with him playfully. Link smirked, but found it difficult to watch the two lovers enjoy each other's company.

"I would highly doubt that. Her father's probably hoping for her to marry a fine noble gentleman, not a low-born piece of work as I."

"Ye think too ill o' yourself, boy," Lelari scoffed. "Ye live at de castle, a five minute walk from 'er highness' quartas. I bet you've spent a lot o' time wit 'er over de years."

"I have." Link shifted in his seat.

"You 'n she awful close?" Cymry prodded.

"Fairly."

"'Ave you kissed'a?" Lelari grinned broadly, then slowly weakened her grin as she noticed Link's obvious discomfort.

"As a child, yes. As a woman, no. It's not proper for a man and a woman to share those sorts of things before marriage in high society."

"Bad luck fo' ye, then!" Lelari frowned at him. "Not one little smooch? One tiny peck on de lips?"

Lelari's face darkened suddenly as several visitors cast a shadow over the booth.

"'Ell, if it ain't de princess' private plaything! What brings ye down to this level? She grow up and throw ye out of 'er toy box?" the visitor taunted.

Link's temper suddenly flared as he heard and recognized the voice.

"Rogen. Well met," he said, gritting his teeth.

"Ill met, plaything," he mocked in return.

Link sprang from his seat and confronted the man. "Is there something I can do for you, Rogen? Or does taunting me make you feel better about your own base position?"

Rogen's friends exchanged worried glances.

"Harsh words, from someone who once occupied the same base position as I," Rogen commented, his eyes flashing threateningly. He crossed his arms to accentuate the results of his job as a blacksmith's apprentice.

"I once occupied the same, or lower. Yet I found a way to rise above it." Link stood straighter and stared ferociously into Rogen's eyes. "I shall repeat myself. Is there something I can do for you, or did you merely come to taunt me?"

"Only to taunt you, plaything. What a simple, easy life you must lead, how difficult it must be for you to fall back to our level. And oh, so difficult for the lady to leave her toy behind! Go back to your satin sheets and warm bed, Link. Sad that you shall find them empty." Rogen's words were sharp, but Link tried not to let them affect him. He clasped his hands tightly behind his back and set his mouth in a straight line.

"I do not share my bed with her, Rogen."

"Not anymore, at least." Rogen's friends laughed, and his mouth curved upward in a simpering smile.

Link felt Cymry's large hand grip his arm suddenly, and realized he had been about to attack Rogen. He took a deep breath.

"Begone with you, Rogen," Link said, returning to his seat.

"Oh, you leave the fight so soon?" Rogen mocked.

"Dat's it. One more word outta ye, and I'll remove ye from the Inn m'self," Cymry threatened, climbing over Lelari and rising to his full height, which dwarfed Rogen by several inches. "Take your cronies elsewhere, and leave us be."

"Ye can afford hired muscle now, I see?" Rogen quipped, attempting to stare down Cymry. Cymry did not flinch. "I never did see you as one to fight a battle, Link. You don't have the build for it. Always the leader, never the fighter. I would've been surprised if you could have protected the princess 'ad she been threatened."

Before Cymry could stop him, Link was out of the booth and gripping Rogen's collar with white-knuckled hands. He pulled the man's face nearer to his own, so his words would sink in.

"Look at me, Cymry," Link hissed. "You listen good, because you won't get another chance. That princess is worth more than my life, or yours, or Cymry's. The difference between them is that I protected her with mine. I still would."

Rogen's teeth were bared in a ferocious snarl as he contemplated a response.

"That matters little when she is several hundred miles away," he snapped.

Link released his collar with a shove and pushed past him, his footfalls echoing thunderously across the dance floor. Couples parted as he headed for the door.

"Link, wait! Don't let 'em get to you!" Cymry shouted, trying to follow him. The door slammed shut just before Cymry could catch him. Angrily he turned and returned to the booth, where Lelari sadly watched him. Rogen and his friends had dispersed, leaving her alone.

"I feel bad for 'im, love," Lelari murmured, rising when he reached the table. "'He's changed so much, I can't even tell it's de same kid. An' 'e looked so sad, so lonely...."

"What d'ye expect?" Cymry asked, comforting his wife. "What Rogen said was very true. 'E can no more protect 'er from a distance as 'e can love'a to 'er face."

Outside it began to snow in great fluffy clumps, raining peacefully down on Link's dark cloak and concealing him from the street. Had he not been so fiercely emotional, the white flakes would have comforted and amused him, perhaps even calmed him down. He was almost running, full of anger and feelings he could not repress nor express. The castle loomed tall and ominous in the distance; it was his destination and his desperation.

Rogen had opened wounds Link had hoped to be healed. He was perfectly honest when he had said Link could not protect her from here. That sentiment had eaten away at him from the letter he had gotten several days ago, and even now tormented him with their reality.

It did not help his situation at all to see Lelari and Cymry, so happy and settled. It forced him to confront what he could only admit to himself; that he was, in fact, madly in love.

Link's hands moved in a staccato rhythm as he wrote the letter, replaced the quill, and held down the paper to blow on. His emotions rang thunderous in his ears, deafening him. In his mind the words had been so beautiful... yet on paper they angered him and made him feel childish and immature. How insane he was to write them! How could he dare to believe she might hold just a bit of feeling for him that might match his own, so fervent and amorous?

Link moaned defeatedly. In one swift, unretractable move he snatched the paper from his writing desk, crumpled it, and cast it into the fireplace.

Flame hands reached up and tore the letter asunder, erasing his passion. It was for the better, he thought.

He wondered what Zelda was doing, at that very moment. Was she enjoying an outing with that Aurick man? Was he counting his blessings, wondering how he had captured the attention of the future queen? 

Suddenly, sleep sounded very comforting. After pulling off his boots, removing his shirt, and rolling back the covers, Link flung himself onto the bed and pulled the covers up around his neck. Though the fire burned bright and warm, it could not chase away the winter chill.

As he drifted to sleep, the fire continued to consume his fiery words, ensuring that she would never know their sentiment.

The soft firelight cast a rosy glow on the cheeks and danced in the eyes of two children, a boy and a girl, nestled together in a large armchair. The young boy held a book, a child's reader by the looks of it, from which he occasionally read a passage. The girl rested her lovely golden-haired head on his shoulder and read along.

"The... man... runs... far... ac... uh...."

"Across," the fair-haired girl prompted.

"Across! Across... the... pra... prar... prah...."

"Prairie. Remember that word? Like the field of tall grass?"

The boy shook his head. "I've never seen a prairie."

She was astounded. "You've not?"

"But I'd like to, someday."

"You will! I know you will. Someday you'll travel the whole world," she encouraged.

"Only if you'll go with me," he said quietly.

"Of course I will!" she said, squeezing his hand. "I wouldn't let you have all that fun by yourself!"

He beamed at her in response.

"Well, now that is settled, let's finish the chapter for today. Try the next line."

"It looks difficult...."

She rapped him on the top of his head playfully. "Of course it is. But we'll work through it together!"

"He... ran.. to... the... Fee... Eld...."

"No, field."

"I should have known that," the boy muttered.

"It's alright! You're doing wonderfully!"

He turned his head and frowned at the golden-haired head on his shoulder. She looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm terrible. Admit it."

"I won't! You're doing very well! You catch on quickly."

"You're only saying that," he murmured, then continued with the reading. "The field of... fine... li... lile... lilies?"

"Yes! Lilies! Those flowers with the white petals that father grows in his study. My mother's favorite."

"...to... pick... one... for... his... bell... bee...."

"Beloved."

"What does that mean?" He asked, confused.

"It means... ah... his best friend. His best lady friend."

"Like you?"

"What?"

"You. You're my best lady friend, aren't you?"

"I... I suppose?" She said, tentatively.

"Does that make you my beloved?"

"No, silly! That's only a word for best lady-friends, all grown-up!" She tapped him on top of the head again and laughed gaily. "And besides. I'm not a lady. Not yet!" He soon shared her laughter.

"Well, then someday you'll be my beloved," he assured himself, then turned the page in the reader. Against his shoulder, the girl smiled.

"Have you ever had a kiss, Link?" she murmured thoughtfully.

"Ki.... No, why?"

"Because I've not either, and I always wondered what it would be like to have one."

"Well, I suppose...."

She caught him off guard, wrapping her free arm around his neck and pulling his face around so that she could gently touch her lips to his. She lingered there for a long moment, and neither made a move to end the kiss.

She soon pulled back, blushing furiously and looking away. Link blinked, unsure what to say. Her shoulders shook as if she were crying. He instantly worried that he had done something wrong, that he had ruined the kiss, until a giggle escaped her, and he knew that she was laughing instead. Soon, both children were giggling innocently, enjoying the moment of experimentation, bathed in the honey-colored glow of the fire.

Zelda's eyes flew open as the memories returned; a younger time, a purer time, a gentler time. Oh, how she missed those childhood escapades! And more so, how she missed the one she shared them with!

---

On to Chapter 4
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