Korrasami Week Day Seven

Eye of Iceland - Fagradalsfjall Eruption, Iceland - Sep 11 [OC] [3500 × 2332] - Author: grisigt on reddit

YES YES YES

Korrasami Week Day Three

Oh, this one hasn’t undergone through much editing. Enjoy :)

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Prompt: vacation

"You sure you got everything?"

"Don't worry, me and Pabu are ready to rock the beach! Those waves won't even know what hit them!" Bolin exclaims, flexing his arms over his head. Pabu climbs his torso to reach his forearms, sporting a small straw hat that matches his.

Mako sighs silently and folds the last of his towels against his leg. He places the cloth inside his bag, on top of all his other belongings. His brother doesn't miss the suspire.

"Relax, Mako. It's just one weekend."

Mako zips the bag before replying, "With Korra, I've learnt not to take anything for granted."

Bolin's enthusiastic reply slides into pursed lips, "You're not wrong... I mean, even Wu is tagging along," he trails off and shakes his head vehemently, "Oh, come on, Mako! It's been a long time since we went on vacation together. Me, you, Korra, Asami, Wu and my sweet Opal. I won't let your gloomy attitude ruin it! I know this time everything will go smoothly!"

Bolin's ramble accompanies them outside their home, to the front porch.

His brother has a point. It's not easy for them to coordinate holidays and outings so most of the times they are reduced to shared brief lunches or late nights together, where exhaustion grips at them from all sides. A whole weekend feels like a small blessing and he hopes they'll make the most of it.

"Last check, did you pack everything? What about the sunscreen? You grabbed that, too?"

Bolin's protests die immediately on his mouth, lips tightening in a cheeky smile as the earthbender rushes back inside. Just to be on the safe side, Mako lazily rifles through the contents of his own bag one last time. He prays this will be the most action he experiences during the weekend when a weird crunching noise distracts him.

"Good morning, Mako!"

Korra's cheerful call comes from a small van parked in front of him. The Avatar is leaning outside the window of the passenger seat, perched on the thin sill. Next to her, Asami smiles at him from the driving seat, green eyes shaded by a pair of googles.

He hoists his bag higher on his shoulder and waves back at them.

+++

"Next time," Wu pants and swallows heavily, face pale as a sheet, "We're riding badgermoles."

"So we have to listen to your singing? I’d quite prefer this, thank you very much." Korra replies, leaning back in her seat with a lazy stretch. Opal smiles at the back of her head, sharing the sentiment.

After all, Asami's van had easily welcomed the six of them with all of their belongings, and leaving space for Opal to stretch her legs between the seats.

"An air bison?" Wu groans again and Opal smiles sympathetically at him.

"Sorry, Tenzin had banned me from all the air bison’s stable, after I sort of helped Jinora sneak out in the middle of the night," Korra yawns and rubs at one eye, "And Opal here is still a student, and therefore prohibited to use air bison transportation for," she quotes with her fingers, "Such frivolous activities. But, on the bright side, I don't think this method of transportation is that bad."

"You think that only because it has the Future Industries' logo on its side," he moans back, both arms wrapped around his stomach.

Korra shrugs, "It's not my fault my girlfriend is a genius," she replies, leaning over the clutch to kiss said girlfriend on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, Wu," Opal hears the smile in Asami's apologetic tone, "But it won't be for much longer, now. We're almost there," she replies as she takes another turn down a deserted street.

The engineer drives smoothly down the lanes, slouched in a comfortable posture, even as the roads become smaller and less frequented. She looks serene in her seat, arms lazily gripping the wheel. Because of the many turns they had undertaken, Opal had lost any sense of direction. Instead, she takes her time to admire Asami's navigational skills: the driver hadn't looked at the map once, not since their departure from Republic City, but she hasn't hesitated once.

Opal takes a look at the other passengers to distract herself from Wu's retching sounds. Beside him, Mako leans against the side of the van, arms crossed and eyes closed, probably in sleep. Opal suspects he's just trying to ignore Wu's moaning. Most surprising of all, Bolin's snoring loudly in the seat next to her, passed out only after few minutes of traveling, lulled to sleep by the van's rocking motions. Pabu has disappeared at the beginning of the drive in the back of the van to keep company to Naga.

Curious, Opal leans forward between the two seats in the front, careful not to jostle her slumbering boyfriend.

"Asami," she begins, "How come you never told us about your beach house before?"

The Sato heiress catches her eyes through the rear view mirror and offers a slight smile, "I don't know, Opal. I guess I never considered the idea of going there again until Korra mentioned a beach day."

Korra makes an humming noise from the side, to which Asami's smirk only grows. Opal isn't privy to the silent exchange, but the secret traded knowledge doesn't bother her because of the exclusion.

"When was the last time you came here?" Opal asks again, head lolling on her crossed arms with the elbows resting on both the front seats.

"I was very little. I think I came here last with my mother," Korra lays a hand on Asami's tight. Smiling fondly, both at the memory and at the touch, Asami waves away the gesture, but not the feeling, "We wanted to go together, but my dad had to remain behind for a last minute emergency at the factory. He insisted we went without him."

Asami's smile never falters.

"Though he never said anything, I think he wanted to get rid of this house after my mother’s death. Sell it, probably. Even though I don't know what made him change his mind in the end- That's the place, by the way."

"Well, I, for once, am sure glad he didn't sell it," Korra whistles lowly, admiring the blue and white mansion that enters their windscreen.

But the rueful chuckle that escapes Asami's lips makes Korra's hand cease its circular movement on her leg.

"It's nothing, don't worry," for the second time, Opal feels like she missed a beat of the conversation, "I just realized I don't have any memory of my father in this house."

Korra's other hand rises to Asami's cheek and brushes away a strand of ebony hair.

After a moment, Opal adds her smile and her hand on Asami's shoulder.

"Then," she says, feeling like a real airbender behind those words, "What are we waiting for? Let's go make some new memories."

+++

When they reach the beach, with the sea lapping gently at the shore, the first thing Korra does is heave her girlfriend over her shoulders and drop her in the water.

Asami comes back to the surface spluttering and complaining about sunscreen and sunburns.

+++

Later, after a raucous round of water fighting with Opal and the two brothers, Korra marches back to the beach, where an unaware Asami is peacefully reading a thick book, body splayed on a towel.

Korra drops unceremoniously on her, sprawling over her back like a starfish and dripping freezing water over her warm skin.

Asami shrieks, and Korra laughs.

+++

The six of them engage in an animated match of volleyball, one that ends in the water.

They have to explain the game to Korra, first, who has never played before in her life.

Surprisingly, Wu reveals himself to be a pretty decent server, scoring a few points with only one shot. But the skill doesn't balance his refusal to play any ball that's saved further than this, claiming of not wanting his hairstyle ruined. Opal is the fastest on her feet, jumping at any given occasion to land most of the smashes.

Mako stumbles awkwardly through a couple of smashes, but Bolin makes an amazing defender against the sturdier hits. His strength hinders his fast movements, so his team ends up relying on Asami's timely saves. Except for those, Asami reveals herself to be a terrible player, somehow lacking the proper coordination for simple passes.

They all breaks down in giggles when Asami accidentally hits Korra in the face with a terrible serve.

+++

"What do you mean you can't sandbend? Aren't you an earthbender?"

Bolin smiles awkwardly at Wu, "Yes, but that's not the same thing."

Wu wrinkles his nose from behind his round sunglasses, his face being his only visible part. Bolin and Opal are working together to bury him completely in the sand, as their original plan of building a sand chair had failed miserably. At random intervals, Mako kicks a spray of sand in their direction, helping them bury the former king.

"Why not?" Wu asks again, "It's practically the same thing. Sand is just earth, split into grains and located at the ocean's side."

Bolin's face flickers to a miffed expression, "It's not the same thing, because I can't sandbend, but I can earthbend."

"Do you know the reason it's not?"

"Of course," Bolin pauses in his digging to hunt for words, "It's because... because."

"You don't know?," Wu presses, "Aren't you an earthbender?"

"I am!" a wave of embarrassment washes over Bolin, "And what about you? Why don't you know the difference?"

Wu sniffs at him, "I'm not an earthbender."

"But you're the Earth King. You should know this stuff," Bolin points out simply.

Wu's complaints pitch his voice into a whine, but Bolin can now recognize when Wu is taking the teasing in stride, laughter bubbling behind his words, "Former king, thank you very much. And I-"

Bolin sighs, tuning out the political spree Wu inevitably launches into. He had seen in first person the effects of Kuvira's tight reign on the Earth Kingdom, and so it's natural for him to wholeheartedly agree with Wu's decision in stepping down on the throne. He has the feeling that the world had seen enough of monarchs, at least for a little while.

He just wishes he wouldn't launch into an half hour speech every time they mention it.

Bolin trades shrugs with Opal as he lets his gaze divert to the side. His eyes fall on Korra's form, laying curled up on her side, head in Asami's lap. They're huddled on their towels next to their failed sand chair, Asami sitting up to read her book. One of her hands is busy carding through the Avatar's damp hair in a rhythmic motion. 

Korra looks on the brink of sleep, with that thousand mile stare she does every time she struggles to stay awake. And Bolin knows the warmth brought by the touch of a lover so he understands Korra's wishes to remain awake as long as she actually can.

He feels lucky to be among the few who have the privilege of seeing the Avatar so relaxed. In the past years Bolin had known her, Korra had faced many adversities, always giving to the world more than it deserved. Bolin often wondered how much more she could give before it demanded too much.

Seeing her pliable and serene slots a pebble in Bolin's chest, one that warms in a pleasant way.

When he rises his eyes, he meets Asami's smile with one of his brightest.

It doesn't take long for Asami to join the conversation, offering her input on sand. She explains the many applications it has found in modern technology and how Future Industries has hired a team of skilled sandbenders to create prosthetic limbs with sand particles, resulting in lighter and stronger models.

He doesn't need to imagine the widening of Korra's smile.

+++

The moon shines over them, splintered in speckles of white over the black pool of the sea. The lapping waves peal like thunder.

Strolling on the beach, Korra gently leads Asami by the wrist, eyes soft. And Asami follows her until she feels the water lap at their waists and tickle their bellies.

Korra wraps her arms around her shoulders, guiding her further in the sea of darkness.

They sway to the rhythm of the waves, stealing slow and tender kisses from each other.

Asami presses the side of her head to Korra’s chest without a word, burying her face in Korra's neck. Her hands circle her waist and Korra feels like her heart is about to burst from love. She presses a kiss to the crown of Asami’s head in turn, cradling her closer in the embrace and heating the water around them with firebending, so Asami won't feel cold.

They stay entwined in the dark for long, moving only to kiss or caress another silver of skin.

How would one write a realistic argument?

How to Write a Realistic Argument

Everyone argues.

Whether it be with a friend, sibling, parent, or coworker—arguments usually break out whenever there’s a stark contrast in opinion over certain things, which can happen a lot.

There are a variety of different kinds of arguments involving a wide range of people with different tempers. Because of this, writing arguments can be a bit difficult, but fear not, for this post is here to help!

1. Know The Writing Style of an Argument

For a very serious argument, the characters probably won’t stop and listen to what their opponent has to say.

It’s quick, choppy, and broken—each character shoving their emotions at one another and trying to get their point across without bothering to understand the other side’s opinions.

There should be a lot of em-dashes and italicized words for emphasis, and if it’s between two people, you want as few speech tags as possible; because there’s going to be a lot of back and forth, speech tags can serve to trip up the flow of the argument rather than help them.

When you do want speech tags or if there are multiple people arguing at once here’s some examples you can use:

Roared

Screamed

Yelled

Bellowed

Barked

Hissed

Shouted

Accused

Interrupted

Growled

Snarled

Spat

Screeched

Shrilled

But you also must know that your characters won’t just be standing stock still and yelling at one another; they’re going to be moving around, so here are some things you can describe your character doing during an argument

Expression contorting

Eyes narrowing

Speaking through clenched teeth

Baring their teeth

Lips twisting (into a sneer/into a snarl)

Hands balling into fists

Trembling

Breaking things/knocking stuff over

Pointing accusingly

Shoving

Spittle flying from their mouth

Stamping their feet

Face getting hot

Vein in forehead popping

Blood roaring in their ears/heart pounding

And if you want, to build tension you can put it in a dangerous place, like at the edge of a cliff or something—so you know fully well that if one of them goes too far it may end up with the other’s accidental death.

Keep reading

Apollo x Daphne AU — goddess of music

A gentle breeze touches Lena’s flushed and clammy skin, but it brings no relief – even the air itself is stiflingly hot today. Tree leaves brush against her arms and her cheeks, tickle the soles of her feet, get tangled in her hair. Lena breathes in slowly and lets the scent of the mountains ground her as she makes her way home.

Time has given her the opportunity to memorize the world around her in ways no mortal ever could. She knows the ways rivers flow in winter, after a rainstorm, during a draught. She knows the way they used to flow, and remembers every change. She knows where they end, where they start, when they started.

She would know the way through these mountains blindfolded, on the darkest nights.

Her connection with these forests allows her to notice when something has changed within them – a new presence, or the loss of an old one. Today is one of those moments. Lena isn’t sure what it is. The grass is still scratchy and yellow in the same places as yesterday, still green and soft in others. The cypress trees are still in the same place, and so are the barn owls nesting in their hollows. Even the gray wolves haven’t moved from their resting place since this morning when she left.

Whatever it is, she decides, there is no use dwelling on it now. Lena lets her thoughts drift as she climbs over a fallen tree. Its mossy trunk feels warm on her thighs and hands – familiar, she imagines, like the touch of a lover would feel after centuries of closeness. Intimate, trusting, in a way she herself has never felt with anyone. The thought of it feels familiar even so – she has dreamed of a love like that so often, she can almost feel its warmth.

But romance happens in stories, and a watered-down version of it happens to the other nymphs around her, and nothing like it will ever happen to Lena. She has made peace with that knowledge a long time ago, and if you asked her, she wouldn’t say she’s lonely. Lena treasures the time she spends in solitude, free of judgement and expectations, free of performances. The sweltering heat of today’s noon should be spent just like that, alone.

As she makes her way across a grassy glade, she finally hears the murmur of her river. Lena sighs in relief. She has detested the summer for as long as she can remember, and today’s blinding sun does nothing to change her mind. She can’t wait to dip her tired body in the cold, rushing river water, floating in it with her eyes closed and her mind wandering.

Which is, of course, when she hears it.

Keep reading

Last full moon of the year, in Þingvellir by Ann Silvestre.

"Do you think I could use horseradish as fuel?"

Kara paused in her hammering to cast the alien an apprehensive look, "It depends on how advanced your technology is."

"We don't usually rely on vegetables for powering up our spaceships, but this one- this one glows..." the alien trailed off, frowning at the luminous tuber clutched in her hands.

"Your vegetables aren't of the glowing kind?"

The alien offered an overwhelmed shrug.

"Will you show me another cool transmutation trick? From vegetable to fuel?"

Something creased the thin line of the alien's mouth, "That was just dried grape fruit. Astronaut foods. It wasn't a real sugar cube, it just looked like one."

Kara didn't frown back. She offered an helpless shrug instead, one that made the hammer slip out of her clammy grip. The tool plummeted to the ground, awkward and way too loud for what was going on. The alien chuckled at her clumsiness, sniffling and Kara ignored the wet note stuck in her voice.

The air grew quiet as Kara turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with the lost castaway. Together, they stared at the crumpled skeleton of the spaceship as smoke slowly rose from its corpse.

The alien crouched to toss back the horseradish in its crate, where other vegetables were mutely glowing in a rainbow of neon colours. The movement shifted the tattered bandage fastened around her head.

"It's not like-" Kara extricated her sweaty fingers around the hammer's handle, hoping that freedom of movement would improve her eloquence, "I mean, even if you had fuel, it's not like you could fly with a gaping hole in your flank, right?" she muttered, awkwardly pinching the side of her wrist.

The alien's shoulders just deflated, the slope of her spine tilting. Fingertips nervously drumming the side of the hammer, Kara felt she had never known such helplessness before.

(Maybe once.)

"Look, Lena-" the name rumbled like a sticky vibration on Kara's tongue, unfamiliar with the strangeness of such a foreign tonality. By the passing expression on the alien's face, the same weird feeling must have resounded in her ears.

Feeling a bubble of unease burst in her chest, Kara gnawed on her bottom lip. "It's going to be okay," she pressed, "Next time the cargo ship comes, you can come with me to the market. I'm sure you'll find something for repairs and-and..."

Lingering words got lost in the stark profile that Lena cast over rows of drooping gladiolus, under the twinkling light of the pair of suns. Kara swallowed, fighting the distinct urge to hug the lost alien, who was merely a stranger with a crashed spaceship and frowning lines.

"I promise."

But the frown didn't lift from Lena's forehead, settling deeper in the circles in her eyes. Kara had never encountered such a frowny alien before.

She fell silent, dreading whatever clunky attempt at comfort her mouth would sprout next.

(She used to be better at this.)

She aligned her knuckles back in her grip around the hammer and turned back to work. She let herself get lost in the rhythm of mindless hammering, palming dark veins in wooden planks. There was always something to mend or repair around the farm, dull tasks that became plain boring during the sourer days. But Kara didn't mind the dust and the boredom, she liked the hard work. Making something with her hands.

It took Lena three boards and seventeen nails to turn away from the broken remains of the spaceship.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, tugging at the loose end of one of her sleeves.

Kneeling in the dirt, Kara tossed an easy smile over her shoulder, grateful for the lighter tone of Lena's question. "Oh! Just trying to fix this pond. It’s been leaking something awful and I could hardly keep it full.”

Lena still looked caught up in her head, but Kara couldn't help a relieved breath when Lena sat down with her on the naked ground, legs folding over each other. The slope of her shoulders curled inwards.

"I was worried the ducks wouldn't have liked it anymore with such little water," Kara continued, conversational, eyes flicking to a grease stain on Lena's forearm.

Lena didn't reply to that. She just changed her position, the white of her pants brushing against the ground. It painted a smudge of dirt on the cloth, the only dainty pair of trousers Kara had been able to salvage from the crash and the blood. It was a pity to stain such a rich fabric, but living on a farm did tend to have that effect on things. And on people, too.

She looked like a lost person, with her crossed legs and closed eyes. Like a fragment of a star in a galaxy of asteroids.

Turning on the water to refill the pond, Kara straightened with a jolt, head snapping up. A couple of bones cracked in her back and elbow as she released a satisfying sigh. Cheek cradled in one hand, Lena peeked at her from the corner of one eye, "Ouch," she winced, offering a tight grin.

Kara shrugged cheekily. She rummaged for a moment through the pebbles at her feet, before choosing a single rock and weighed it in her hand. It was flat and small and she could hold it in one palm.

Lena's gaze got lost in the repetitive movement of the water, until Kara tossed the pebble across the surface of her newly repaired pond, watching it glumly sink in the middle of lazy ripples.

Lena turned to face her, both eyes open. Kara felt herself blushing under her stare, "I was trying to skip a rock."

"It didn't skip."

The blush reached the tips of Kara's ears.

"Why would you do that?"

Shuffling closer to the pond, Kara knelt to inspect the mended planks, if only to hide the redness dusted on her cheeks, "I thought it would skip."

A huff of laughter reached her ears and Kara watched the shards of a smile paint itself across Lena's frown. It was the first time she could see a trace of pure joy in the alien's smile. She should have tried to skip rocks earlier.

When Lena's laughter grew into a comfortable silence, Kara turned back towards the setting suns. She had just enough time before darkness to check on the grapevines, to check the soil for-

"Oh."

Kara watched as Lena's lips morphed into a mou of surprise.

A chaotic procession of ducks suddenly unfolded in front of them, a fluttery of green feathers. Two, three, six animals wandered past the pair, wobbling unsteadily on webbed feet. Only the bravest of the flock hobbled close to Lena to inspect the frayed hem of her nice pants.

"Uuuh," Lena's hand hovered.

"Ssh," Kara shushed gently, "I think he likes you."

The curious duck hesitated maybe three more seconds before he blinked his purple irises at Lena, batting one eyelid at a time. He lifted one wing and started preening. The other ducks were swimming lazy circles in the pond.

Kara leaned back on her feet to stare, flashing a proud smile.

Lena didn't meet her eye, busy doing some simple math under her breath. "He has... four wings."

Hammer tucked back in her belt, Kara sat again in the dirt, sending a fleeting apology to the grapevines, "Yes," the duck fluttered his wings, "You've never seen a duck before?"

"Of course I have- of course," said Lena, and then hesitated for a handful of choppy seconds, "We have ducks on... back on my home planet, but these... I've never seen alien ducks before."

Kara wrinkled her nose, "These aren't alien ducks," she pointed out.

"Of course they are, Kara. They have four wings, four-"

"That doesn't make them aliens."

"Ducks have two wings, Kara, two! Not four. Back on my...," she stumbled, "Back on..."

The first of the two suns the planet orbited around disappeared under the horizon, a trail of magenta embers left behind.

The breath that pushed out of Lena was long, sharp and Kara noticed the way it took another chip of tension out of her body. It dissolved into a hiccuping laughter, like syrupy bubbles clawing their way out of her throat. Lena kept chuckling even when her eyes filled with tears.

Done with his preening, the duck ambled towards the pond, tail wagging, his animal heart too young to comprehend the entirety of Lena's splintered feelings. Kara felt more in tune with him for a cursory instant.

Lena leaned back on her elbows, "I'm an alien."

Kara wondered if there was mercy in discovering another part of your soul, lost in such a minuscule place.

When Lena's tears dried, they revealed an hesitant grin buried underneath.

I’m curious about something, if you write, reblog this post and put in the tags what you write with (MS Word, Google Docs, etc)

Sunflowers at Sunset - Miami, Florida [OC] [3042x4032] - Author: Dermity_Head on reddit

Tea Time Blushes

Tea with her appointed knight had become a weekly occurrence. Since Zelda realised she had created a version of Link in her head that was far from the reality, she had made an effort to get to know Link. Through these efforts she had found reality much more interesting than she had anticipated.

“I heard some ladies fawning over you again today. They said you were the most handsome young man among court this season,” Zelda said.

She casually refrained from mentioning their belief of the waste of company she was for him. Instead, she joked about how those ladies would be appalled by his complete lack of manners when it came to food.

“At least I enjoy my meals. And the company I share them with.” Link barely looked up from cutting himself a second helping of cake as he spoke.

Zelda watched as he devoured his second piece of cake. Each slice had been a generous portion, making her own slice look modest. Surely those ladies would be scandalized at how openly gluttonous Link could be. She wondered then if previous heroes loved cake as much as her Link. Her Link? Since when had he become hers?

They were friends, and barely that, more so thanks to Link’s patience than anything. She would not dare to break their tentative friendship solely because of how her stomach flipped at his blue eyes meeting her own. A silly girlish fantasy of a noblewoman and her devoted knight, something Zelda overheard court ladies swooning over more than once. And something she herself had daydreamed increasingly about. She felt a light flush at the thought of her recent imaginings when she was supposed be in prayer.

Nothing kept the cold water from chilling you like fantasies about your appointed knight pulling you into his arms.

“You have a cute blush, Your Highness,” Link said. His quiet voice startled her away from her thoughts.

“I have a… cute…blush?” Zelda asked, taking her time to wrap her mind around what Link had just said.

Link nodded, “Yes, much better than those court ladies.”

His eyes were focused on her face now, cake forgotten.

“Maybe they would blush better if you spoke to them like that,” Zelda said, eyes shifting but always returning to his. Her stomach clenched at the idea of Link complimenting some twittering noblewoman who only saw him as the perfect hero.

“If I spoke to them like this it would be a lie,” his voice was as quiet and steady as always, though Zelda thought she could hear something else in his tone.

“They would not know the difference. So many noblemen pay false compliments it is a wonder they believe them,” Zelda knew she had received her share of duplicitous compliments due to her rank as Crown Princess.

“I prefer to say what is true, I’m sure you can value that as a scientist. I also prefer to tell those I’m interested in such things directly,” Link said, continuing to look at her with a fond expression.

Zelda could feel her blush deepen between Link’s words and gaze. While most would not have considered what he had said indicative of anything more than playful flirtation, coming from her mostly mute knight it was practically a confession of love.

Link smiled at her reaction, finally turning his attention back to his cake. She sat stunned, trying to wrap her mind around the words. While Zelda had seen enough to know Link was not like this around others, she also did not begin to get to know Link until recently. Was it possible that he was a flirt where he came from? There could be no other reason. Outside of genuine affection for her.

He had called her a scientist, something she tried to be in her efforts to understand Sheikah technology. Zelda decided to live up to the title and conduct an experiment of her own in order to determine how her appointed knight felt about.

“I do appreciate objective facts, though yours have thus far been more subjective,” she said carefully, making sure to watch his face. “I would want a suitor to comment on more than appearances that change daily.”

Link swallowed the last of his cake, crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. His face had shifted to be as impassive as always, though his ears flushed pink. Noting the reaction, Zelda decided to see if she could elicit a stronger reaction.

“With you, for example, I could compliment your skill with a sword and dedication to your duties. But I would say it is your patience, perseverance, and kindness I admire most.”

She could feel her heart thudding from the partial confession. Link’s face had not change, though he had gone still. The light blush had deepened, spreading from his ears to his face. It seemed he had turned to blushing stone at her words. One last effort then, and if he gave no sign of affection beyond friendship, she would ignore her budding feelings.

“It seems you have part of your cake on your face,” Zelda stood, closing the small distance between them, and raised her hand to Link’s unmoving face, “I would think crumbs goes against the dress code of the Royal Guard.”

Link still remained unmoving, if possible going even stiller at her touch as she wiped away the crumbs. It looked to Zelda as of he was not breathing. Clearly, she had crossed a line and misread what must have been nothing more than a compliment. Zelda pulled her hand away from his face, took a step back.

“I’m sorry, forget I said any-”

Zelda knew Link could move almost inhumanly fast. She had witnessed it firsthand after he had saved her from a Yiga attack in the Gerudo desert. Though the occasions that warranted such speed usually involved fighting monsters or assassins. Instead of brute force or aggression, Zelda was pulled gently towards a now standing Link. One hand held her steadily to him at the small of her back while the other moved up her arm, coming to cup her face.

His lips hovered over hers, his breath sending shivers through her body. They stood like that for a heartbeat in perfect stillness before Zelda closed the gap between them. The kiss was chaste. Just a clumsy press of lips that sent a jolt through her body. Zelda began to pull away, when Link’s grip tightened, and he deepened the kiss.

Zelda’s observant mind noted that Link tasted of the cake they had eaten and warm honey before the slip of his tongue pushed any other thought from her mind. A muffled noise escaped her as he pulled her closer, and she moved her hands into hair. She could feel her lungs begin to burn they finally pulled away from each other. Breathing heavily, Zelda moved her hands to his shoulders as Link held her waist. She would have happily continued kissing her appointed knight until she saw stars behind her eyes but was content to be this close.

“Is that an objective enough display, Zelda,” Link said, addressing her with no title for the first time. Her name sounded better than she had imagined in his quiet voice.

“I would say so, though continued observation is needed to be sure.”

“I’m sure we can arrange for that,” Link said as he sat down again, pulling her onto his lap with him.

Zelda cupped Link’s face with one hand, the other slipped into his soft hair. She could see the blush from earlier still stained his cheeks a light pink and knew her own face was similar.

Leaning her forehead against his, Zelda said with a smile “you also have a cute blush.”

Link’s response was to kiss her again. The rest of their tea was abandoned for the afternoon, the two thoroughly enjoying the few moments they had alone. Taking tea with her appointed knight became a daily occurrence after that, with Zelda resolved best to uncover what else made Link blush as deeply as the first time.