#i'm ngl i'm... tempted to expand this story someday??? I had a blast writing it????

[coconi]

"Who told you that?" + zelimpa (if you're fine with it!) or revalink for the ficlet request please....coni my beloved....

For all its grandeur and intimidating façade, Hyrule Castle is an unexpectedly quiet place — a silent sea of marble and stone where even Impa's careful steps echo, heedless of her many years of ruthless Sheikah training.

Today, however, her steps are completely deafened by the cacophonous flurry of movement that surrounds her wherever she goes. The annual Great Ball starts at sundown, and all of the castle's servants are running around in an infectious panic that is beginning to permeate Impa's nerves of steel. It is not her first ball by any means, but formal functions have never been her cup of tea — she always yearns for the weight of her faithful kodachi at her side during the entire ordeal, feeling awfully exposed.

With a deep breath, she clenches her jaw and makes a beeline for Princess Zelda's room where she is expected.

Impa knocks a familiar pattern on the ornate door — a secret tune the Princess taught her and nobody else — and immediately hears a yelp followed by something clattering to the floor. Her weapon at the ready, Impa swings the door open only to find the Princess frozen in place, a brand new pair of high heels dropped by her feet.

"Impa, you startled me." Zelda gasps, a hand pressed against her breast. The hard line of her shoulders immediately relaxes at the sight of her guard, and she smooths out the heavy skirts of her royal dress as the door closes behind Impa.

As lovely as she looks, Impa will always find her Princess to shine brightest on her daily attire, knee-deep in ancient relics with a gleeful glimmer in her eye.

"I apologize, Princess." Giving a curt bow, Impa rushes to retrieve the fallen shoes. The tiny laugh that escapes Zelda is music to her ears.

"I've told you there is no need for formalities when it's just the two of us." Zelda chides, her trembling fingers barely brushing against Impa's to take the heels from her grasp. She averts her eyes then, a familiar storm brewing in them, and Impa wills sunlight to grace the words she is about to speak if only to give Zelda a little solace.

"It'll be fine." Impa squeezes Zelda's hands, not a trace of hesitation in her gaze. "And I assure you nobody is going to think ill of you for not being Hyrule's greatest dancer."

It takes every single ounce of Impa's training not to laugh at how fast Zelda's face turns a bright red, her eyes the size of plates.

"How— Who told you that?!" Zelda sputters, clutching her shoes hard enough for her knuckles to go white. Impa tuts and gently pries her hands open, a fond smile on her lips.

"I don't need to be told what I can see clear as day, Princess. I'm always in your shadow, remember?" Impa carefully leaves the shoes away from Zelda's reach and guides her to the center of the room where sunlight streams in a colorful cascade from an open stained glass window. There she bows before her Princess, an open hand issuing an invitation. "But, you see... dancing is very much like battle, and I know a thing or two about that."

Zelda hesitates, her eyes frantically darting from her friend to the heels on her dresser before a spark of determination Impa could invoke in her sleep lights up her face. The same kind of resolve that comes with her brilliant discoveries; her boundless passion; the place where her heart truly lies.

Princess Zelda smiles and takes Impa's hand with a graceful curtsy, claiming the Sheikah's heart in a single, private waltz.