Chapter Text
Alfon is there when Link is happy.
He’s there when Link is smiling, racing down the halls of the castle on a grand (not so secret) escapade from the servants, running on his little stubby legs beside Alfon. The kid doesn’t realize it yet, but this is no escape nor any adventure, but to Link, who has known nothing but the near-constant watch of doctors and servants and his nursemaid for his whole two years of life, it is an adventure alone with his Uncle and big sister.
On Alfon’s other side, Zellie skips happily, eager to be stolen away from her lessons for a few hours.
Oh―today will be wonderful, Alfon decides, hands interlocked with theirs. Zellie is going on and on about Madame Orei’s lessons and how boring they are. Link is quiet, as he so often is, but his beautiful intelligent blue eyes are absorbing everything they pass on their walk. Down the stairs they go, down to where Alfon’s cart is waiting for their arrival―alongside two others.
As soon as Zellie sees who’s waiting on the cart, she gasps shrilly and immediately runs to them. “Mama! Papa!”
Link begins whining, pointing at his parents and tugging on Alfon’s hand to go to them.
They, unfortunately, could not go alone. But they could not just steal the entire royal family away today like Alfon once had for the Princess and Talo years ago. Instead, Impa must accompany them alongside young Sesha, Link’s nursemaid. The guards that accompany them―a mixture of old and new faces, but all of them loyal and all of them trustworthy―are a surprising few for this endeavor.
Still, Alfon doesn’t dwell on the thought and smiles at his brother and sister-in-law as he climbs in. Link, still unsteady on his feet, clambers over to them, clinging to Zelda’s skirt for dear life. Alfon, meanwhile, settles up in the driver’s seat. Unsurprisingly, Talo settles down right beside him, his smile wider than it has been for weeks.
“Alfon, you are a blessing,” Talo says as Alfon urges the horses to begin moving.
“Why, thank you,” Alfon teases.
Talo shakes his head, sighing heavily and hunching over, content to watch Alfon carefully drive the cart through the main gates, then down the path from the castle to his home. The orchard is full of fresh apples and bees and birds and rabbits this time of year. The wildflowers are blooming across the front yard, and Alfon has stoked the fire and begun a fine lunch for them all. It waits inside, still cooking, but the aroma wafts through the air.
By the time they’re climbing out of the cart, Talo’s shoulders have lost all of their tension and he looks more like the boy he was growing up on Lon Lon than he has for the past four years. Alfon claps his shoulder and hops off the cart, and Talo follows, hurrying to the back to help the aging Impa and young Sesha off the cart. Zelda climbs off with the children, and Zellie is already racing to Alfon’s door. Link eyes the area dubiously, clinging to his mother and hunching down when she begins carrying him toward the house.
“Alfie―” Talo begins as they parade inside.
The guards wait outside, well aware that Impa could handle a horde of men on her own, but one follows them nonetheless. Just in case.
Whatever Talo wants to say is cut off as he goes silent.
Alfon smiles smugly beside him. “Well, don’t stand there like a doorknob. Say hi.”
Talo blinks out of his stupor. “Romani?”
Romani smiles shyly, hunching her shoulders as her ears turn pink. “Hi… Ta―oh!”
Romani looks so incredibly small beside their brother, who towers over just about anyone he meets. Still, Talo holds her tight and close, and she wraps her arms around his back. The hug is tight but brief, and when they split apart Talo gather’s Roma’s face in his hands.
“Roma…” he begins, then his hands fall away, as if he remembers how he’s supposed to act. “It’s… it’s good to see you again.”
Romani’s smile falters, something disappointed appearing in her eyes. “You too, Talo.”
Talo reluctantly draws back. “What―what compelled you to come back to Hyrule?”
Romani shrugs. “I wanted to visit my nephew, I guess.” She says it with forced nonchalance, so much of it in fact that her words come out awkward and unsure. “Alfie’s been―-he’s been telling me all about him.”
Talo gives Alfon a look. “Oh?” He turns back to Roma. “And how long have you been here?”
“Just a few days,” Romani answers. “But I wrote Alfie months ago.”
Talo raises an eyebrow. “So this was premeditated?” He roughly claps Alfon’s shoulder. “You’re horrible. You made this seem like you just thought it up on a whim!”
Alfon shrugs. “Twas a surprise.”
Talo laughs, throwing his head back, and it reminds Alfon of the old days. Of the three of them—Talo, Romani, and himself—tearing through the fields of Lon Lon Ranch as they laughed amongst each other. It reminds Alfon of days before Talo was concerned about taxes, assassins, his public image, and royal courts.
It reminds Alfon of the days when things were simple.
Zelda steps through now, Link cradled in her arms. Romani shifts uncomfortably, though Zelda looks little like a princess right now. She’s dressed down to her simplest dress—which is by all means fine and not nearly as plain as Romani’s patched-up skirt and button-down shirt—and has foregone all her jewels today. Still, Romani blushes and fumbles in the presence of their princess.
“Princess—” Romani begins.
Zelda waves her hand dismissively. “Zelda is fine. We’re family, after all.”
Romani blushes harder. “Zelda, then.” Her eyes flit to little Link, staring at her dubiously. “And Link. Er, Prince Link—Sorry. I’m making this awkward.”
Zelda smiles though, and though she tries to hand Link to Romani, Link whines shrilly and clings to her neck, burying his face in her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. He’s very shy.”
“It’s okay,” Romani says, though there’s some disappointment on her face. “He’s very cute. He looks like you.”
Zelda glances down at Link, still curled against him. “Oh? I thought he looked more like his father.”
Talo’s smile brightens in that goofy, lopsided way of his.
Alfon claps his hands. “Well. I think we’ve had enough standing around and talking.” He gently tugs on Zelda’s arm (ignoring Romani’s aghast look) and then nudges his little sister. “Let’s go outside and enjoy the weather, shall we?”
Little Zellie had already had the idea, and had already tugged Impa out the door the moment the adults started talking. Alfon doesn’t blame her—she barely knows Romani, and usually adult conversations are boring for her—and is happy to see the girl already frolicking around the orchard when they do step out. As for the rest of them, they take their time, though Link’s eyes go wide when he sees the brightly-colored apples and the trees that seem to go on forever.
Link begins babbling. He’s quite adept at talking despite his young age—no doubt the wisdom inherited from his mother—though his body has yet to catch up with the motion. As small and weak as he is, he still struggles to walk some days, though that doesn’t stop him from trying.
The boy may not be particularly Lon but Alfon is proud he inherited their stubbornness. He can already tell that Link will need it growing up.
They set up a blanket on the grass, and it’s not very long before Link gets the courage to begin wandering, following behind his big sister on his unsteady little feet. Zellie is enamored with the orchard, bringing the stones, apples, and flowers she finds back to the picnic blanket to show off like some sort of treasure that’s even grander than jewels. Link is content to follow, holding her hand as she wanders and explores, Impa and Sesha a few steps behind them.
Alfon watches, happy to see his niece and nephew simply being children for once.
He remembers when he, himself, was a child, wandering Lon Lon Ranch’s fields in muddy boots. Talo would always forego shoes, whereas Romani always spent too long lacing hers up. Talo would always be the first one out of the house after meals, followed by Alfon and then by Romani tottering on behind them, eager to join in the fun.
He glances at his siblings now. Talo, who grew to be taller than most men, and whose blonde hair is the same color as the sand and whose eyes are the same color as freshly-plowed dirt. His face is pointy, his nose long and sharp and just a little cockeyed from one unlucky fistfight he got in back in their school years. His hair, too, is pointy. But he is clean now. Even dressed in his most casual wear, he’s clean and regal nonetheless.
And then there’s his baby sister Romani, who has lived on the road for the past two years and has seen countries Alfon doesn’t think he’ll ever get to see these days. Romani’s dressed in a skirt―no doubt, her version of dressing up for the occasion of being in the presence of the princess―but it’s tattered and torn and has seen better days. Her shirt is clearly a man’s―a lover’s or bought, who knows―and she has chopped her pretty red hair short to her shoulders. She is wild still, and Alfon can’t hold it against her. For better or worse, adventure is just as ingrained in their family as caring for nature is. Pops was a soldier from Holodrum and part-time explorer, after all.
“Where did you say you were last, again?” Alfon asks Romani conversationally.
Romani shrugs. “Holodrum.”
“Oh?” Talo asks. “Tell me about it.”
There’s an attempt there to rebuild a bridge which had already fallen.
Romani crushes it, tugging on her hair. “I-I’m sure you’ve already been there.”
“But not to the important stuff,” Talo insists. “Sure, I’ve been in plenty of palaces. But rarely the villages.”
Romani takes a deep breath and starts talking then, stuttering and stammering over herself at first before her shoulders droop a little and she begins going on and on about this tower and their tea―ever the connoisseur of tea, Romani is. Alfon hopes she’s brought samples for them―and the people she meets. As she talks, her eyes grow wide and Talo begins nodding along too, prodding her with questions. Zelda, too, grows enthralled in the conversation.
Then, Romani brings out a sketchbook. “I, uh, I drew some pictures. If you’d like to see.”
“Would I!” Talo gasps, scooting to sit closer to her to see. Alfon moves aside so Zelda can see too.
Alfon has already seen the pictures. Beautiful black-lined pieces painted in watercolor. Vivid landscapes she’d seen while traveling―the tropics of Labrynna, the mountainous Holodrum, and the very flat Hedra―and paintings of buildings and people fill her sketchbook. Memories of places she’d seen, people she’d known, towns she’d lived in.
Alfon can admit he’s kind of envious. To be able to live a life that free―
A little hand tugs on the edge of his coat. “Unca?” Link asks.
Alfon smiles tenderly down at his nephew. “What is it, Link?”
Link points to Romani’s sketchbook. “Whas that?”
“That’s Aunt Romani’s sketchbook,” Alfon tells him. “I’m sure she’ll show it to you.”
Link makes an unsure expression. It’s a little pout, his eyebrows drawing together unsurely and hands fisting into his tunic. Alfon pats his shoulder and walks him over to where his parents and aunt are sitting. Talo lifts his head when they draw near, tilting it quietly as Romani rambles on about some kind of ruins in Labrynna.
“Wanna see!” Link declares suddenly, clambering onto Talo’s lap and leaning over Romani’s sketchbook. “Whoa.”
Talo shifts so Link can get a better view of the sketchbook, and the little boy lets out huge gasps with every new picture. Romani finishes flipping through her existing drawings, finishing with a half-finished painting of Alfon’s own house.
“Unca’s house!” Link crows. Then he frowns, tilting his head. “How?”
He taps the page, at the unfinished colors.
“How do I make them?” Romani guesses.
Link nods.
“With paint!”
“Show me?” He glances at Talo with pleading eyes.
Talo urges him toward Romani. “Go ahead, Link.”
Link beams the brightest smile Alfon has seen on his little face, and clambers toward Romani, begging to learn how to paint. Once she’s gotten her paints from inside, they hurry off away from the blanket to paint.
Link will end up covered in paint later, but Alfon can enjoy the sounds of his nephew being enthralled by Romani’s skills for now.
Talo leans back on his hands. Somewhere, Alfon can hear Zellie singing.
“We’re going to need to get him a teacher,” Talo tells Zelda. “For art.”
“And music,” she adds with a distinct tone of satisfaction.
“Music?” Alfon asks.
“He loves it,” Zelda remarks, glancing toward where her son is happily getting covered in paint. From this angle, Alfon can see just how much Link resembles her―those intelligent blue eyes, the soft nose, the young face.
“He loves your lullaby.” Talo nudges Zelda gently.
“Yes,” she agrees.
“Lullaby?” Alfon asks.
“It’s an old song,” Zelda tells him. “It’s been passed down through the royal family for years. No one knows the words anymore, but the melody has been remembered since the Era of the Skies.”
“Oh,” Alfon remarks. He’d make a snarky comment, if this was Ringoh he was talking to. But it’s not, and he knows the royals deeply believe in Hylia.
His family forewent goddesses when Hylia failed the Hero of Time. He knows Talo has changed his own beliefs, but Alfon’s not ready to let his go yet.
But now is not the time nor the place to be making arguments.
Now is the time for peace.
Link’s shrill gasp is what tears the adults from lunch, once it’s served and ready, and before anyone can even ask what’s wrong the child is doing his utmost best to spring across the yard toward whatever caught his eye.
Talo is quick to catch him, and Link’s opera belt of a cry rings across the orchard. Link desperately points, kicking his legs like that will make his father let him go.
“Oh,” Talo realizes.
Alfon lifts his head.
Ah. Just a rabbit.
Alfon huffs, shaking his head. “Was just a rabbit,” he assures the girls.
“Bunny?” Zellie asks, and then immediately rushes to investigate too.
Judging by Link’s sudden crescendo in cries, the rabbit had hid the moment Zellie had come over.
Link is still crying and flailing when Talo brings him back over, handing him off to Zelda awkwardly. The princess smiles, though, and simply begins rocking the boy.
“‘S gone. Bad Zellie,” Link murmurs, sniffing.
“Hey!” Zellie snaps.
Link turns his back to her with a huff.
Zelda rocks him and hums a pretty song―no doubt that lullaby she mentioned earlier―and Link slowly calms. Lunch resumes slowly, Link still huffing and puffing about Zellie scaring away the rabbit even when his parents try to feed him. He’s a horribly picky eater, making faces at anything that doesn’t look remotely familiar to him. And he has a horrible habit of holding grudges, it seems.
“The rabbit will come back out later,” Talo tries to assure him. “Maybe once we go inside you can watch it from the window.”
Link just huffs. “Wanna see it now.”
“It’s hiding now,” Talo tells him.
Link huffs and doesn’t respond.
“He loves rabbits,” Sesha tells Alfon while Link’s parents try to wrangle in the two-year-old's bad mood. “Has this stuffed animal of one he sleeps with every night. They’re painted all over his ceiling.”
“I see,” Alfon remarks, though he already knows.
“He reminds me of a rabbit, sometimes,” Impa adds, sipping her tea.
“How so?” Alfon asks.
“Skittish. Small―” Impa begins.
“You’re being mean,” Sehsa chides. “He’s sweet and cuddly and―”
“My point exactly,” Impa remarks.
Sehsa just shakes her head.
In the end, the day feels like it’s been far too short for everyone’s liking. Even though it’s dark when Alfon brings his brother and his family back to the castle, he can feel the disappointment in the air. From Link, who never did get to see the rabbit again. From Zelda, who can’t sing and play as much as she likes when she’s in the castle. From Talo, who must return to a life that does not suit him. From Zelda, who longs for a life where she can be and do more. From Romani, who has decided to join them, who wishes to have more time with her older brother.
Still, Talo hugs Alfon and Romani tight. “We must do this again.”
“Of course we will,” Romani promises.
“I would cart you out of the castle a million times over if I could,” Alfon assures Talo with a hard clap on the arm.
“I don’t doubt it,” Talo laughs.
Then Talo takes his wife’s arm and they return to the life they so desperately want to escape.
Alfon and Romani linger.
“We have to do this again,” Romani says, eyes bright. “And―and maybe Cremia can come and…” She looks at Alfon suddenly, ears drooped unsurely. “And we will do this again, right?”
Despite the weight in his chest, Alfon smiles at his little sister and squeezes her shoulder. “Of course we will.”
They never do, before the end.