"Stew, it's an easy thing to make with unfamiliar meat." She admitted gently, she hadn't made much with rabbit before, but she was sure it would work as well as anything else. However, if him questioning her and hovering bothered her, she made no indication as such. Instead, she seemed content to have him nearby, so sure in her work there was no real hesitation at his presence-- at least not as far as cooking was concerned. If she could feel warmth heating her blood just a bit she was sure it was because most wouldn't dare be this close to her most of the time. It was improper, but in truth, she was learning she didn't mind. Having the close company made her feel a little more human, and right now that was welcome.
"Very clever." She giggled, briefly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she watched him with an almost impish smile. Though it very quickly turned to surprise as she took in his expression. Her face burning up as embarrassment followed. He was serious! Oh my! Peach bubbled up with another set of giggles, however, these were spawned from embarrassment rather than at what she had perceived as a joke.
"I'm going to use it to cook a bit." She nodded gently, folding her hands behind her back, her eyes squinting a bit as she tried to keep her embarrassment at such a social faux pas to a minimum. "Salt is the easiest spice to get, so I figured we might have some nearby."
"Ohh," he said. "I've had stew before. It wasn't bad," he said in a way that clearly showed his cooking inexperience. He continued to watch just as closely as he could, his fascination with the process distracting from his self-consciousness about their proximity. Otherwise, it was likely he would have been blushing at least and retreating at most. But he was fixated now on what she was doing and how she was doing it: any display of skills he didn't possess was fascinating to him. He always wanted to pick up skills where he could: sometimes it meant he could do small things, like repairing his boots when no cobblers were within a day's ride. And sometimes it was just to satisfy his own curiosity.
"Thank you," he grinned, and beamed a little as she complimented him. He was pleased that his knowledge had come in handy. "See? I'm not so bad at this cooking thing." But then she looked at him and gave him a teasing smile, and his own grin fell. "Oh." He didn't understand just yet, but he at least got that he was the butt of the joke. He looked down at the ground sheepishly and scratched his head.
"Is that right?" he asked, recovering slightly. "I'd heard some people use spices, I think. I never got the hang of it." He turned and rummaged through one of his bags. Out came a small pouch tied at the top with cord: he untied it and handed it over, its mouth slightly open to reveal grain-sized white crystals inside. "If there's anything else you need I probably won't have it," he admitted, "but maybe I could buy some at the next town we come to. Or scavenge it."
Oh no. The guilt compounded when he went from prideful to crestfallen at her giggles. She felt herself shift before she thought about it, flashing him a kinder, if not quieted smile. "I'm sorry." It was soft, and gentle, she felt bad about teasing him-- even if it had been mostly unintentional. "Preserving food is very fascinating." She added after a moment, allowing herself to try and recover, and hopefully allow him to forgive her or at least recover some with her. "Maybe you can show me how you do it sometime?" The question is gentle, light, but not dishonest. She's hoping he'll take to the encouragement, rather than letting himself be brought down by her misunderstanding. "I didn't know you could use salt for that.
"So I suppose we both learned something today." She took the salt in her hands, rolling it around a little. The crystals were a bit bigger than she was used to, but not in any way that she minded. Just meant she had to be careful about putting too much in. A few little shakes across the top as she watched most of them bubble as the water was heating and a few sinking down. Reaching over she took up the celery stick she had not chopped with the rest, quietly using it to stir as they spoke.
"I'll look in the next town, there's no rush." A pause as she turned her gaze back to him, still smiling. "I'm sure we can make due till then."
He laughed lightly at her obvious concern for his feelings. "I appreciate it," he told her, still crouched ever so close. "I can handle being giggled at now and then, especially when I say something silly. I know I'm not the most well-rounded person out there, so I expect to put my foot in my mouth now and then." He grinned. "But if you would like to learn, I'd be happy to show you anytime. Maybe the next night I catch something."
He settled down and resumed watching her, his warm eyes carefully flicking between her face and the cooking she did. He wanted to learn it all.
"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "You can teach me what spices are good for what, and maybe we can make some more interesting meals. I'm afraid what I'm used to making isn't exactly glamorous." As soon as he said it he had a sudden realization: he was dragging a princess through the woods, on a single horse, and making her cook. Somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten her royalty somehow and begun to see her as just an ordinary woman. "Sorry," he murmured glumly. "I know all this is a lot less than you're used to."
"I don't mind," she chimed in, almost affectionately as she settled in with him. Enjoying the quiet moment for the two of them to just talk and enjoy each others company as the food bubbled up, beginning to cook itself into a proper meal. Or as close to it as they were going to get right now. "It makes me feel better, to be able to help you. You're doing a lot for me and I am not oblivious to it-- if anything it makes me happy to be able to cook for you, to reward some of your kindness with my own."
A little blooming smile, showing just how earnest she was. She really was content to be helping him out, to be able to feel like she was doing something for him in return. Not just a burden to be dragged along and complain, she wasn't in it to make his life difficult. Not any more difficult than she had for just existing in his world and needing his help.
The hero kept his eyes down, searching the ground like there was something fascinating to watch between the fire-lit pine needles and the pebbles on the ground. His stomach crumpled up as he contemplated just how presumptuous he'd been, bringing such a pretty member of royalty through the mud and the muck.
But then she settled closer to him, close enough that he could just smell something sweet and flowery, close enough that his cheeks brightened and his pulse quickened. He couldn't help it: the feeling was newly developed but nearly incapacitating. And the smile, when he looked up and saw it, only made it a lot worse.
"If you don't mind," he said almost begrudgingly. He didn't quite believe it, but he would do his best to--and by the time she finished her speech, he absolutely did. The smile he answered hers with was honest and relieved. "Although you don't need to do anything for me, or worry about any of that. I'm just happy to help." All the same, his estimation of her rose. She was no shrinking violet--and attentive to her helpers, too.
"In that case, cooking is a great way to help," he acknowledged. "I'll give you any small tasks I can think of, and teach you to do some more--but mostly your company is enough." He smiled at her and scuffed the dirt slightly. "It's more than I usually get."
Link sniffed briefly, the cool breeze wafting gently over the cooking stew. "Wow," he said with wide-open eyes. "That smells amazing. Is it ready yet?"
"You've spent a lot of time alone, haven't you?" She asked gently, already beginning to sort the food out, scooping a few globs into one of their small bowls and settling in to talk with him a bit more. She realized, after a few seconds of doing just that, that she had asked an invasive question, something that might not settle well-- and she feels a pang of guilt. "It must be a hard life being an adventurer. Not many could keep up with you, I'm sure." She hoped, at the least, it softened the blow a little bit. She didn't blame him for being alone, and it was clear in her delicate tone that she meant no harm, it was worried and affectionate more than anything, yet she still feels bad for mentioning it at all. She should have thought her words out better, but being around him just seemed to make her feel so much more comfortable than she realized.
She would need to keep an eye on her tongue, so to speak.
"I'm glad to keep you company, and cook, and whatever else you'll teach me." She followed up gently, trying to press that she was glad to keep him company and glad to help. She supposed part of what left her speaking so freely was the fact she didn't understand why he was alone. He seemed kind, if a little wild in some ways, venturing long and hard-- but still a man fit to have a companion. She didn't understand why he didn't have one. He was kind enough, brave and strong and--
She cut that thought down where it stood, flushing and spooning a bit of food into her mouth to keep her tongue from doing any more damage.
A man more aware of what was normal, what was ordinary, might have been slow to answer a head-on question like that. But Link only said "yes," plainly and clearly, without embarrassment or hesitation. Yes, he had spent a great deal of time alone--more time by far than he'd ever spent with other people, and when it came to time spent with any one individual... well, that didn't even come close. "Some could," he said after a moment of consideration, "but most don't choose to. Not that I blame them: the life isn't for everyone."
He accepted the filled bowl she gave him, grinning as he breathed in the smell of the stew. He was no great hand at deciphering the ingredients she'd used, even though he knew most of what had gone into the meal: all he knew was that it smelled delicious. He puffed cool air over the steaming bowl waiting for it to be ready to eat. And even so he took a bite before it was quite cool enough, leading to Link with his mouth open, breathing some of the heat out. And it still tasted delicious.
"Sounds like a deal to me," he said with a mouthful, then swallowed. This time his words were a little less garbled. "I would be happy to teach you, not just because you're accompanying me but because..." he gestured with his spoon, trying to capture what he felt. Because it was what he did? Because of who she was? Because traveling with her felt so pleasant? "Because," he finished lamely, and then it was Link's turn to conceal his awkwardness with another mouthful of food.
"I think I could learn a great deal with you, so I appreciate it." Some of it she might never use, or even most of it, perhaps-- but she always wanted to feel more self-sufficient. Always wanted to better defend herself; as much as a Princess can defend herself against a fire breathing dragon. She tried, of course, many times but it came down to numbers and Bowser had many. Especially with the pacifist nature of the toadstools.
Swallowing down another spoonful she leaned back a little, relaxing against the cool of the night. "How long have you been doing this?" She finally asked, wanting to know more about her traveling companion. It was a fine line between polite and nosy, but in earnest, they had little more to do than chit chat between them.
"Being an adventurer, I mean." She clarified, just to fill the air with a few words before her gaze timidly swept back to her soup.
"Ditto," he said, and smiled. "I've been doing this for... well..." he considered the question. Most people could simply say "ten years," or "twenty," but all he could say was... "forever, I guess." Link scratched his head a little sheepishly, knowing that wasn't quite as complete an answer as she deserved. "I know I've been doing it for as long as I can remember, but sometimes I get flashes of... other lives, I guess you could say." It was a private thing he wasn't quite ready to admit, especially how it made him feel. So he stuffed himself with another few quick spoonfuls of stew, leaving the bowl almost dry.
"Well," he announced as he stood up, "don't feel like you have to quit eating anytime soon, or to rush. But I'm going to start setting up for bed." He smiled at her: "first rule of adventuring is, get a good night's rest." It was a piece of advice he'd always stuck by, although it wasn't always possible to observe it.
Link began to set out the sticks and pieces of cloth that would eventually comprise a tent. A single tent. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
"Is there anywhere you'd like to go if we happen to pass by it? Snowy mountains, swamps, the desert? Not that the last one is negotiable... we're kind of forced to go there based on our trajectory."
"Other lives..." The words were barely a whisper off of her lips, thoughtful but not judgemental. She wondered what that meant, if he really meant it, or if he was teasing her. Though the latter of those options seemed less likely as he was occasionally playful but generally a rather serious man in her experience. She wondered if it was just memories he'd lost or actually...
She stopped herself from thinking about it too much, it was late and wouldn't do any good.
She watched him work, sipping and nibbling, waiting till she was finished to tend to the empty bowls. There wasn't much she could do besides wiping them down in hopes they wouldn't get too musty or dirty, carefully packing them away with hopes of finding somewhere to wash them on their adventure.
"I've always loved the snow, perhaps that." It always brought a sense of peace with it, though Peach admitted, if only to herself, seeing anything would be quite the adventure for her. This world was so different sometimes it was hard to imagine she was really there. IT wasn't as bright, but it seemed to be filled with so many different things. "Or anything you'd like to show me, of course."
He smiled a tired smile as she toyed with that idea. He knew it wasn't exactly the easiest concept to accept, that someone could be reborn again and again (if indeed that was how it worked; he himself had no real clue) and he didn't blame her for finding it hard to believe. Perhaps she'd come to accept it or perhaps she wouldn't. But he was tired, and how could he convince her one way or the other, really?
"The snow," he echoed as the tent began to fold upwards, each addition of a stick or a tug making it assume more and more of a usable shape. After a few finishing touches the cloth, oil-slicked on top and the sides, was erected. Inside he placed their two bedrolls and stood back to make certain everything was as it should be. After a cursory examination, he nodded. "I've always loved the snow. There are some mountains we might just pass by after we come through the desert: there are some friendly people up there you might like to meet. And they love to sled." He smiled at her, wondering if that was something that had ever fit into her princess's routine.
"I have many places I'd like to show you, time willing. We'll see where our adventure takes us." He cleared his throat and for just a minute his confidence seemed to flag. "I've got our bedrolls ready." Link hesitated for a moment, looking for the right words to say but unable to quite get them in order. "I hope you don't mind how... cramped it is."
And indeed the bedrolls were, by necessity, barely a foot away. He didn't exactly have much need to carry a two-person tent with him.
The idea of snow was welcoming, perhaps just because even in the night it seemed the heat wasn't keen on relenting. She was glad to be out of her beloved dress, if only because the weight of it might have eaten away at her in this sort of weather. She plucked up her bag, approaching him and the finished tent, examining both at once. Peeking in the entrance she paused briefly, before nodding firmly. "Thank you, Link."
It was gentle, the way she spoke, as she lowered herself down to crawl forward. Peering at both of the rolls for a moment before picking one to the left. She was nervous about camping like this-- she's never really done something so... outside, before, but she was willing to try and learn. Allowing herself to settle down on the roll, it took her a bit of wiggling to fit herself properly in the middle; her clothes were not quite as accommodating as her silken sleeping frowns but she was glad for the comforts they had.
"I'm fortunate to have found someone quite so knowledgable." She offered kindly as her cheek pressed into the bedding, her body neatly fitting on the mat as she bundled her limbs in to maintain the warmth she had gained from the fire.
He cringed a little as she stepped over to the finished tent, crouching slightly to peer inside. He was so sure she was going to scoff at the accommodations, so far from a princess's commodes, barely even a pad between her and the ground. Barely even a handspan between her and him. But perhaps he'd been too ready to hear criticism. Or perhaps he just didn't give her the credit she deserved. "You're welcome," he answered honestly, with surprise, and he chastised himself for thinking so poorly of her. Of course Princess Peach wouldn't scoff at him for providing the best he could. Link felt a little ashamed.
He turned away as she crawled into the tent, deciding not to watch her backside wiggling as she found her place inside. When he looked back she was comfortably fit on the bedroll and looking cutely up at him with that signature small smile. It warmed his heart for more reason than one.
"And I'm fortunate to have found such a good companion," he answered her in kind. He stomped on the fire a few times, extinguishing the last embers, then followed her inside after stripping down to his white undershirt and his breeches. He crawled in beside the princess and sank with a sigh into his own bed. The tent was already full of some slight flowery scent, something he was already beginning to associate with her. He slid underneath his covers and smiled at her as she clung to herself for warmth: "like this," he instructed the princess, and tugged out her covers so she could slip inside. "Better?"
"Ah." She was glad for the darkness that allowed her to slip down into the covers and hide her embarrassment at the whole of it. Settling in she found it was good at keeping her own warmth inside, at the very least. It wasn't the beds in the castle, no, but nothing really was. She was rescued from a castle she had been captive in for however long, in a strange land, by a kind young man. It was really all she could ask for, all things considered. Having a safe place to sleep and the quiet of the world around her was more than she had gotten there. The threat of violence ever hovering in the air, threatening to choke the air out of her.
Her eyes fell half-lidded, watching him for a few long moments as she seemed to be thinking over the days' events. It was pleasant all things considered, he was good company and the heat could have been worse. She could be in that castle still, waiting to find out what her fate was.
"Much better." She hummed out as she tucked an arm under her head, better to balance her body out. The traveling fabric rubbing against her cheek. She was, of course, far too abashed to strip down for the time being; but the clothes were comfortable enough to sleep in them. "Thank you, again." She laughed at herself a little, she felt like thanking him every two seconds; she was sure it'd eventually become bothersome.
Forcing herself to close her eyes, she let out a soft breath and tried her best to get settled in. "Goodnight, Link."
She settled under the covers, and if a blush touched her cheeks the darkness hid it away. For a moment neither of them spoke, laying underneath the cloth tent as the wind gently blew through the trees and the night filled with the quiet background noise that accompanied the wilds: crickets chirping, owls hooting, even the distant high-pitched howl of coyotes. His sword and shield rested near the entrance of the tent, ready should he need them--but the presence of Epona was usually enough to frighten off all but the most desperate of wild animals. He didn't expect any trouble. "Glad you're comfortable," he murmured. "And as always, you are very welcome. Although I wish I had a softer bed for you."
His mind was full of the days ahead, planning and mapping out their path. He was so wrapped up in thinking that her goodnight caught him by surprise. "Goodnight," Link answered. "I hope you sleep well."
They didn't speak anything further, and soon the soft noise of Peach's rhythmic breathing filled the tent. It was a new sound to Link, but a comforting one. At first it was difficult for him to close his eyes and just relax--especially being so close to her, breathing her in--but when he finally did succumb he slept longer, and deeper, and more restfully than he could remember having done for a long time.
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"Very clever." She giggled, briefly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she watched him with an almost impish smile. Though it very quickly turned to surprise as she took in his expression. Her face burning up as embarrassment followed. He was serious! Oh my! Peach bubbled up with another set of giggles, however, these were spawned from embarrassment rather than at what she had perceived as a joke.
"I'm going to use it to cook a bit." She nodded gently, folding her hands behind her back, her eyes squinting a bit as she tried to keep her embarrassment at such a social faux pas to a minimum. "Salt is the easiest spice to get, so I figured we might have some nearby."
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"Thank you," he grinned, and beamed a little as she complimented him. He was pleased that his knowledge had come in handy. "See? I'm not so bad at this cooking thing." But then she looked at him and gave him a teasing smile, and his own grin fell. "Oh." He didn't understand just yet, but he at least got that he was the butt of the joke. He looked down at the ground sheepishly and scratched his head.
"Is that right?" he asked, recovering slightly. "I'd heard some people use spices, I think. I never got the hang of it." He turned and rummaged through one of his bags. Out came a small pouch tied at the top with cord: he untied it and handed it over, its mouth slightly open to reveal grain-sized white crystals inside.
"If there's anything else you need I probably won't have it," he admitted, "but maybe I could buy some at the next town we come to. Or scavenge it."
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"So I suppose we both learned something today." She took the salt in her hands, rolling it around a little. The crystals were a bit bigger than she was used to, but not in any way that she minded. Just meant she had to be careful about putting too much in. A few little shakes across the top as she watched most of them bubble as the water was heating and a few sinking down. Reaching over she took up the celery stick she had not chopped with the rest, quietly using it to stir as they spoke.
"I'll look in the next town, there's no rush." A pause as she turned her gaze back to him, still smiling. "I'm sure we can make due till then."
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He settled down and resumed watching her, his warm eyes carefully flicking between her face and the cooking she did. He wanted to learn it all.
"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "You can teach me what spices are good for what, and maybe we can make some more interesting meals. I'm afraid what I'm used to making isn't exactly glamorous." As soon as he said it he had a sudden realization: he was dragging a princess through the woods, on a single horse, and making her cook. Somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten her royalty somehow and begun to see her as just an ordinary woman.
"Sorry," he murmured glumly. "I know all this is a lot less than you're used to."
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A little blooming smile, showing just how earnest she was. She really was content to be helping him out, to be able to feel like she was doing something for him in return. Not just a burden to be dragged along and complain, she wasn't in it to make his life difficult. Not any more difficult than she had for just existing in his world and needing his help.
"Please, just let me help when I can."
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But then she settled closer to him, close enough that he could just smell something sweet and flowery, close enough that his cheeks brightened and his pulse quickened. He couldn't help it: the feeling was newly developed but nearly incapacitating. And the smile, when he looked up and saw it, only made it a lot worse.
"If you don't mind," he said almost begrudgingly. He didn't quite believe it, but he would do his best to--and by the time she finished her speech, he absolutely did. The smile he answered hers with was honest and relieved. "Although you don't need to do anything for me, or worry about any of that. I'm just happy to help."
All the same, his estimation of her rose. She was no shrinking violet--and attentive to her helpers, too.
"In that case, cooking is a great way to help," he acknowledged. "I'll give you any small tasks I can think of, and teach you to do some more--but mostly your company is enough." He smiled at her and scuffed the dirt slightly. "It's more than I usually get."
Link sniffed briefly, the cool breeze wafting gently over the cooking stew. "Wow," he said with wide-open eyes. "That smells amazing. Is it ready yet?"
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She would need to keep an eye on her tongue, so to speak.
"I'm glad to keep you company, and cook, and whatever else you'll teach me." She followed up gently, trying to press that she was glad to keep him company and glad to help. She supposed part of what left her speaking so freely was the fact she didn't understand why he was alone. He seemed kind, if a little wild in some ways, venturing long and hard-- but still a man fit to have a companion. She didn't understand why he didn't have one. He was kind enough, brave and strong and--
She cut that thought down where it stood, flushing and spooning a bit of food into her mouth to keep her tongue from doing any more damage.
no subject
He accepted the filled bowl she gave him, grinning as he breathed in the smell of the stew. He was no great hand at deciphering the ingredients she'd used, even though he knew most of what had gone into the meal: all he knew was that it smelled delicious. He puffed cool air over the steaming bowl waiting for it to be ready to eat. And even so he took a bite before it was quite cool enough, leading to Link with his mouth open, breathing some of the heat out.
And it still tasted delicious.
"Sounds like a deal to me," he said with a mouthful, then swallowed. This time his words were a little less garbled. "I would be happy to teach you, not just because you're accompanying me but because..." he gestured with his spoon, trying to capture what he felt. Because it was what he did? Because of who she was? Because traveling with her felt so pleasant?
"Because," he finished lamely, and then it was Link's turn to conceal his awkwardness with another mouthful of food.
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Swallowing down another spoonful she leaned back a little, relaxing against the cool of the night. "How long have you been doing this?" She finally asked, wanting to know more about her traveling companion. It was a fine line between polite and nosy, but in earnest, they had little more to do than chit chat between them.
"Being an adventurer, I mean." She clarified, just to fill the air with a few words before her gaze timidly swept back to her soup.
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It was a private thing he wasn't quite ready to admit, especially how it made him feel. So he stuffed himself with another few quick spoonfuls of stew, leaving the bowl almost dry.
"Well," he announced as he stood up, "don't feel like you have to quit eating anytime soon, or to rush. But I'm going to start setting up for bed." He smiled at her: "first rule of adventuring is, get a good night's rest." It was a piece of advice he'd always stuck by, although it wasn't always possible to observe it.
Link began to set out the sticks and pieces of cloth that would eventually comprise a tent. A single tent.
But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
"Is there anywhere you'd like to go if we happen to pass by it? Snowy mountains, swamps, the desert? Not that the last one is negotiable... we're kind of forced to go there based on our trajectory."
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She stopped herself from thinking about it too much, it was late and wouldn't do any good.
She watched him work, sipping and nibbling, waiting till she was finished to tend to the empty bowls. There wasn't much she could do besides wiping them down in hopes they wouldn't get too musty or dirty, carefully packing them away with hopes of finding somewhere to wash them on their adventure.
"I've always loved the snow, perhaps that." It always brought a sense of peace with it, though Peach admitted, if only to herself, seeing anything would be quite the adventure for her. This world was so different sometimes it was hard to imagine she was really there. IT wasn't as bright, but it seemed to be filled with so many different things. "Or anything you'd like to show me, of course."
no subject
"The snow," he echoed as the tent began to fold upwards, each addition of a stick or a tug making it assume more and more of a usable shape. After a few finishing touches the cloth, oil-slicked on top and the sides, was erected. Inside he placed their two bedrolls and stood back to make certain everything was as it should be. After a cursory examination, he nodded. "I've always loved the snow. There are some mountains we might just pass by after we come through the desert: there are some friendly people up there you might like to meet. And they love to sled." He smiled at her, wondering if that was something that had ever fit into her princess's routine.
"I have many places I'd like to show you, time willing. We'll see where our adventure takes us." He cleared his throat and for just a minute his confidence seemed to flag. "I've got our bedrolls ready." Link hesitated for a moment, looking for the right words to say but unable to quite get them in order. "I hope you don't mind how... cramped it is."
And indeed the bedrolls were, by necessity, barely a foot away. He didn't exactly have much need to carry a two-person tent with him.
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It was gentle, the way she spoke, as she lowered herself down to crawl forward. Peering at both of the rolls for a moment before picking one to the left. She was nervous about camping like this-- she's never really done something so... outside, before, but she was willing to try and learn. Allowing herself to settle down on the roll, it took her a bit of wiggling to fit herself properly in the middle; her clothes were not quite as accommodating as her silken sleeping frowns but she was glad for the comforts they had.
"I'm fortunate to have found someone quite so knowledgable." She offered kindly as her cheek pressed into the bedding, her body neatly fitting on the mat as she bundled her limbs in to maintain the warmth she had gained from the fire.
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But perhaps he'd been too ready to hear criticism. Or perhaps he just didn't give her the credit she deserved. "You're welcome," he answered honestly, with surprise, and he chastised himself for thinking so poorly of her. Of course Princess Peach wouldn't scoff at him for providing the best he could. Link felt a little ashamed.
He turned away as she crawled into the tent, deciding not to watch her backside wiggling as she found her place inside. When he looked back she was comfortably fit on the bedroll and looking cutely up at him with that signature small smile. It warmed his heart for more reason than one.
"And I'm fortunate to have found such a good companion," he answered her in kind. He stomped on the fire a few times, extinguishing the last embers, then followed her inside after stripping down to his white undershirt and his breeches. He crawled in beside the princess and sank with a sigh into his own bed. The tent was already full of some slight flowery scent, something he was already beginning to associate with her. He slid underneath his covers and smiled at her as she clung to herself for warmth: "like this," he instructed the princess, and tugged out her covers so she could slip inside. "Better?"
no subject
Her eyes fell half-lidded, watching him for a few long moments as she seemed to be thinking over the days' events. It was pleasant all things considered, he was good company and the heat could have been worse. She could be in that castle still, waiting to find out what her fate was.
"Much better." She hummed out as she tucked an arm under her head, better to balance her body out. The traveling fabric rubbing against her cheek. She was, of course, far too abashed to strip down for the time being; but the clothes were comfortable enough to sleep in them. "Thank you, again." She laughed at herself a little, she felt like thanking him every two seconds; she was sure it'd eventually become bothersome.
Forcing herself to close her eyes, she let out a soft breath and tried her best to get settled in. "Goodnight, Link."
no subject
His mind was full of the days ahead, planning and mapping out their path. He was so wrapped up in thinking that her goodnight caught him by surprise. "Goodnight," Link answered. "I hope you sleep well."
They didn't speak anything further, and soon the soft noise of Peach's rhythmic breathing filled the tent. It was a new sound to Link, but a comforting one. At first it was difficult for him to close his eyes and just relax--especially being so close to her, breathing her in--but when he finally did succumb he slept longer, and deeper, and more restfully than he could remember having done for a long time.