AN: I wanted to make something kinda sad/angsty, so here you guys go. The Subspace Runner will be updated tonight or tomorrow, I swear to you guys! Just enjoy this kinda drabble oneshot thing, so I should probably stop trying to explain stuff and let you guys dive right into it :) Just needed to blow off some writer's block crap with this, ya know. Please let me know what you guys think, enjoy! Let me know if you guys find any errors!

Disclaimer: Legend of Zelda isn't mine. I'll also assume Link and Zelda are in their middle twenties during this? Yea.

Rated T+ (most likely), kinda sexy stuff that's really vague but hey, you never know.

They were never meant to be.

He watched her cry as he left, after their adventure ended, after they stood in the clouds (but was it really the sky?). That was when he knew, when she made him leave. That was when he knew.

We're never meant to be.

So yes, he went back. He went back when she told him go. He then went through hell and back for over a decade, only to wind up in her arms again. Even though he tried not to, he knew it would hurt him more than it benefited him.

Why did you come home?

I don't know.

She laughed. I'm glad you're back.

She was beautiful.

He remembered that he didn't say anything to her, and her smile quickly faded. It likely hurt him more like it hurt her, because that would be one of the last times he would ever see her truly smile. Truly, smile.

Seven.

He had enlisted for the military. Why wouldn't he? He was better than every single man in that profession, not to brag, but it was true. Oh, and she coaxed him to try out. So he could stay in the castle with her, maybe keep her company. She had no company before him. No one would speak with her, and if they did, oh, they would only talk to her about politics and why she wasn't married and education.

Aren't there princes asking for your hand?

I barely notice those men. They're less interesting than others I know.

He smiled at her at that one. Hah! That's when he thought there was a chance. He was a fool. He was a fool who returned for no reason, other than to twist that dagger into his heart a little more. A little more torture for his soul.

Not that he had already been through torture before. Those seven years lost.

She smiled again in the winter. He had escorted her to town. She had always loved that town. It was happy. Maybe she forgot who she really was when she was there. Maybe both of them forgot who they were in that moment. He didn't remember whether or not that was the case, or he was trying to make her as happy as she possibly could be.

She smiled when he bought a scarf, a handsome red one for her.

I'll wear it everyday, she said.

Six.

Oh, but then the men started rolling in. One by one. All were disgusting. But he? He was a general. Yes, general was a good position, one where people looked at him right, but he was a general. They were royalty.

There's a difference.

They all bore her. Of course, she was special. She needed someone who understood her, her insight, her benevolence. They were all greedy, and they leered at her instead.

Disgusting.

They make me nervous for you, he had said to her one day, as they stood across from each other in a hallway. Why did the atmosphere feel so cold?

There's nothing to be afraid of. I'll be alright. If nothing turns out right, I could run away with you.

I would gladly whisk you away.

She laughed at that, eyes turning up at the corners as she rested a hand on his. Her smile.

The air in the room was warm now.

Five.

She met someone.

It was going to happen, he told himself. It's not his fault. He didn't mess up or anything. It was inevitable that she would meet someone. She wouldn't be alone for the rest of her life, she would have to court someone. A royal lineage can't just end. Where he? Who knows, he may die alone, while she died with someone, but maybe it would be someone she'd never truly love.

That made his skin crawl.

His first 'campaign' (war, it was war) as general happened a little later. It was against some nomads who were threatening trade routes. In the end, he had killed - murdered - 25 men. Their blood stained his hands and his sword afterwards. That war ended quickly.

What a waste of life.

But when he returned, that man was impressed. He asked him if he could teach him something about swordplay. He never replied back.

I know you don't like him, she said one day, facing away from him. She was clipping in an earring, but her eyes were fixed on him. But he's nicer than any of the others. He's very diplomatic.

He didn't say anything, so she sighed.

I'll never forget you, you know that, right?

You're saying it as if you're leaving tomorrow, and I'll never see you again.

She laughed, and smiled lightly.

Oh, why would I ever leave you behind?

He shrugged, but he couldn't help but smile.

Four.

He hated that damn ring.

He couldn't tell her that, of course. She liked it. He thought so, at least it seemed like it to him. He wasn't getting any better at reading her feelings. It felt like he was getting worse.

That man was trying to be his friend. But no, he couldn't be his friend. He would resist stubbornly. He wouldn't let it happen. Even though that man tried to connect with him over archery, over sparring. Horseback. But his horse didn't like the man's horse. Like her master didn't like the man.

There was a gala, celebrating the engagement (the word made his heart ache) as he watched as she showed that ring to some elderly couple. They liked it. A small smile graced her face, and she looked over at him. Their eyes met. She giggled.

They asked her what she was laughing at.

Oh, I just had a thought, my lord and lady. It's nothing.

They seemed satisfied at that.

She soon meandered over to him, even though he tried to avoid her. But he couldn't - she was a drug that he would gladly overdose on.

Are you enjoying the gala so far? He shrugged.

She didn't seem satisfied at that, but they continued to chat. Platonically, of course. Her fiancé was nowhere to be seen at that gala.

Maybe that's why they went to her bedroom that night.

Maybe that's why he was the one undoing the ties on her dress.

Maybe that's why she was the one unbuckling his belt as their kisses became more and more hungry, and he made her sigh and moan and whisper his name. Not her fiancé's. His.

At the end, her fingernails were digging into his back, broken moans and gasps escaping her. Her whole body was trembling. His was too, and he stumbled on every breath he took.

I love you, she gasped through slow kisses, her hands in his hair.

I love you. He murmured back, as he felt her smile through a particularly long kiss.

Three.

He couldn't watch the wedding.

He was there, of course, but he was in the back. Trying not to cry. Trying not to cry as she walked down the aisle. Trying not to cry as they exchanged vows (a smile barely graced her lips during that time).

Trying not to cry as they kissed, and the temple burst into applause.

Yet, him and her, they had broken so many rules. They'd have rendezvous and they couldn't stop. It's like an addiction, she had said one night. I can't stop having you.

As I you. He had said, before he left her room that said night.

But now it was different, because she was married. She was cut off now. He would have to go back to military briefings with old, obsolete men. She would be a queen.

But he would always think of her as a princess.

Congratulations, your majesties. He bowed. It was after the ceremony now; he must be polite.

The man - no, her husband - was pompous, proud. Her husband thanked him generously, telling him to marvel at his wife when he was talking to the man who had marveled at his wife too many times to count. She looked to be stifling laughter. How absurd her husband must've looked.

Thank you, kind general. She said, ever so graceful. She winked at him. Her husband didn't catch it.

They left for their honeymoon that night. It made his stomach churn. It'll only be a week, she said. Maybe less.

Be safe. He had told her.

She kissed him (platonically!) on the cheek. Of course.

When she returned after that agonizing week, she went to him right away, in the cover of his private chambers. Her husband was at a briefing. Meeting other diplomats, she had said.

He'll never be as good as you, she purred as she undid the buttons of his uniform, making him groan as she kissed his neck.

In her mind, nothing had changed. But in his, everything had changed.

A smile still graced her face as she dozed off afterwards, him slowly drowning in exhaustion next her. He'd wake her up early, so she could be ushered out of his room before suspicions were raised. They couldn't have suspicions floating around them.

Two.

That baby wasn't her husband's.

He should've seen it coming. The eyes were too blue. And her husband's were brown.

Someone will put two and two together.

No one will - oh, she likes you, look! The baby cooed in her arms, and she cooed back. Bedridden, for now, at least - the birth had taken a toll on her.

It scared him, how her health had hung in the balance days ago, but he had visited her religiously. Platonically, of course.

Her husband suspected. He saw it in the way her husband looked at him. Sternly, suspiciously. That baby girl looked too much like him, didn't it? It was the eyes, and it was damning that the child seemed to enjoy his presence more than the husband's.

Like she knew her father.

And she - she was more beautiful. Motherhood looked heavenly on her.

He needed to stop looking at her that way. She was his - the queen.

They were never going to be together.

It's tradition for the girl to be named Zelda.

Oh?

I call her Faye.

That's beautiful.

She smiled, a healthy glow that lit up her face.

I'm glad you think so.

The child gripped his finger tighter.

One.

Time to leave.

He couldn't stay. He should've known. He would never stay, even though he was the general. Even though she was there. Even though he was a father.

Faye had grown. She could crawl now; she could babble and squeal, she could recognize him.

She could recognize her father.

Where will you be going?

Away.

Away? But I need - we need you...the best general in the army..." Her husband had looked at her from across the parlor, sitting in his chair by the window. Opposite to the husband, he stood near the door, arms behind his back. His daughter sat on the ground, preoccupied with a horse plushie. She saw him however, standing there.

She squealed, hands stretching in his direction. He smiled, but didn't move, even though he wanted to rush forward and sweep the child into his arms, and hear her cries of happiness.

The queen lifted her - their - daughter off the ground, walking up to him. The child's tiny hands skimmed his face.

He took those hands in his. He kissed them, and she burbled.

Goodbye, Zelda. He murmured, looking over the baby's head. He looked at the - his queen, her kind face. Her husband had turned blind to these moments, hadn't he? But he knew, he knew that the child wasn't his. It seemed as if he had accepted it now. But, what would the king think of the queen when he left? What would the king think of Faye, knowing that she was the daughter of that general?

He let go of the child's hands.

Goodbye, Zelda.

She didn't say anything, only smiling. Sadly.

It wasn't until he was walking down the hall when he heard her speak.

Link.

Zero.

He never came back.

We are never meant to be, aren't we?

Sorry for making our favorite characters' lives kinda suck because they're never meant to be (like I repeated five gajillion times during this fic!) Also, names for characters? Idk tbh, Faye sounded like something Zelda would name her kid, right? It also suddenly changes into the present tense at the very end, probably because I thought oh well it never implies that they saw each other after this lol so Link just kinda drowns in his own misery as he leaves while Zelda never sees him again? I love making things sad :)) Anyway, please let me know what you guys thought, R&R, favorite, e.t.c! ~ALBS

P.S I listened to I Found by Amber Run on repeat while writing this. It's a good song for this type of thing :)