"Say," said Zelda, standing up from her set on the foot of her bed, "I think I could go for some tea right now. Would you like some, Link?"
Link glanced up, slightly surprised by her sudden question. "Huh? Oh, yeah, that sounds great."
"I'll bring up some bread and jam, too," she said chipperly, straightening her dress before heading for the door. "Don't go snooping around in places you shouldn't while I'm gone, all right?"
Snickering a little at her joke, Link scratched his head. "I'll try," he replied in jest, "but I won't make any promises."
She flashed him a smile, then disappeared through the doorway and down the stairs.
Link leaned against the wall nearest to the door; now that she was gone, he had an opportunity to take a good look around her room. It was lovely little place, with bright floral-patterned wallpaper, plush, amaranth-colored carpet, and matching drapes which covered the window and bed. Throughout the room, Link could see little bits and pieces of Zelda's life and personality; he smiled slightly as he caught glimpses of the small yarn dolls she had made, the vanity where she would get ready each morning, and the bookshelf filled with all of her favorite novels, plays, and poetry.
When his gaze reached the chest of drawers, however, his smile grew even bigger in spite of himself. There, in plain view, stood the cat statuette she had purchased from him the day they met, and it warmed Link's heart to know she still displayed it so proudly. He walked over and aimlessly picked it up, turning it over in his hands - when, suddenly, he heard a dull thud by his feet. In his reverie, he had failed to notice the small journal that had been leaning on the statue, and now it was lying wide open on the ground. After setting the piece back in place, he reached down to pick it up - and immediately froze when he recognized the handwriting as Zelda's.
"My love did not come for me on noble steed," the journal read, "Nor did he come in armor of glistening silver."
He blinked a few times. Was this... a poem? His curiosity becoming far too great to resist, he picked up the journal and, against his better judgment, continued reading.
"My love did not come for me on noble steed,
Nor did he come in armor of glistening silver.
He did not come with the riches of kings,
Nor a lance awaiting a maiden's token.
My love came bearing nothing but affection,
Nothing but his gentle smile and warm embrace.
He came with the soul of a dreamer
And hands that carved happiness into everything he touched..."
"Link!" called Zelda happily as she walked in with a tray of flower-scented tea, a loaf of bread, and some strawberry jam, "The tea is -- "
She nearly dropped the tray, however, when she saw the journal Link was holding. Quickly setting it on the vanity, she stormed over to him, her face burning a bright red color, and snatched the book away.
"I-I can't believe you, Link!" she fumed, "I thought you were kidding about snooping around...!"
Link tensed, swallowing nervously. "I-It's not what you think, Zelda, I -- "
"It fell off the drawers, a-and I was going to put it back..." He slumped, frowning guiltily. "...Then I noticed it was your handwriting, and... I'm sorry, Zelda, I didn't mean for it to happen!"
Zelda huffed at his sorry excuse, then stormed off to tuck the journal away in her bookcase. As she shuffled her books around to find the right place for it, a heavy silence enveloped the both of them. Unable to stand the tension - he hated when he and Zelda argued - Link spoke up.
"...You wrote that yourself," he said, "didn't you?"
She bolted upright. "W-Wrote what?"
"That poem," said Link. "The one called Mon amour." He smiled bashfully. "...It was beautiful."
At the compliment, Zelda relaxed somewhat, though her blush only grew brighter. She glanced at Link for a moment, then furiously shook her head. "I-I only write occasionally," she said, "it really isn't very good."
"It really is!" Link walked over and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "I knew you were talented, but I had no idea you were a poet!"
She sulked. "But it's so... overly sentimental! It's so childish and maudlin; you weren't supposed to see it...!"
Link couldn't help but laugh slightly - normally, Zelda was so full of self-confidence, and it was almost comical to see her so embarrassed. "I don't think it's maudlin at all," he said, placing his hands on her cheeks. "I think it's wonderful."
Zelda blinked, surprised by his praises. Then, she too began to laugh, placing a hand over one of his. "I'm glad, you like it, then," she said, "it is about you, after all."
"I had a feeling it was," joked Link, bringing one arm down to pull her closer and into a gentle kiss. Relaxing in his embrace, she returned his advances, and when they separated he gave her one last apologetic smile. "...Sorry I looked without permission."
She giggled. "Just don't make it a habit, all right?" He draped her arms around Link's shoulders. "You scoundrel." Closing her eyes, she leaned in for another kiss.
That night, as the light of her oil lamp flickered upon the page, Zelda stared long and hard at the words of love she had written. In truth, the poem was unfinished, left to linger without a proper ending for weeks after she got too embarrassed to keep writing. Now that Link had seen it, however, she became determined to finish what she started. His praise and encouragement rekindled her spark, and now she merely needed to find the right words to seal her feelings for him on paper.
She chuckled slightly, tapping her pen on her chin. So this was how Link felt when he created his opus magnum, huh? Then, she froze, the words she'd been searching for finally coming to her. Beaming brightly, she lowered her pen.
"My love, my truest love, has come to me," she wrote, "Not as a knight, but as an artist."