Chapter five-Rito village They soon made their way to Rito village, and the first thing Zelda said was this I want to climb the rock. By rock she meant the figs t stone pillar that Rito village was wrapped around, shaped like the beak of a bird. Link had of course climbed it plenty of times, but earlier on he’d almost died a lot; and he did not want Zelda almost dying. “Too dangerous,” he immediately insisted, focusing instead of getting into the village. But Zelda persisted; and Link gave in. Safe to say, they both ended up very injured that night. And in their injuredness, Zelda decided it was a good night for stargazing. “I used to star gaze all the time, you know.” She whispered to them. They were inches apart, lying on the ground, staring up at the sky. “I remember,” Link reminded her gently. “Whenever I accompanied you out, you’d always sneak from the tent to look at them, write notes in your journal.” There was a pause. “What kind of stuff did you even write in your journal?” “Constellations.” She responded. “I think they’re gorgeous.” She turned to look at him, forgetting how close they were. Their noses almost bumped. Her face blushed as her eyes met his-startled-and her hair fell into her face. He gently brushed it out of the way, and she looked away because she couldn’t hold eye contact a second longer. “Which constellations are your favorite?” He asked after a second, and effort to keep the conversation going. And so she told him-pointed every one out, told him what it was, everything she knew about every star, and he just listened. Listened like she was the only thing that mattered in the world, because in some ways, to him, she was. Eventually her voice fell silent, as she realized she had said everything there was to say about the stars. She considered changing the topic, but she didn’t want to; just sat, with him, in a comfortable silence. And then, eventually, she thought of something to say. “I’m…sorry, Link.” Zelda whispered through the darkness. She’d fallen when they climbed and he tried to catch her, and in turn he injured his arm and back. “It’s fine,” Link replied. “It’s my fault. I knew it was risky and let you climb anyways.” “I held a grudge when you told me it was risky! If anything, it’s my fault.” She insisted. And that’s how the rest of the night went; the two of them, bickering back and forth, trying to take the blame until they finally agreed to just forgive and forget.
