Disclaimer: Don't own; not profiting; belongs to Nintendo.

Timing

Goddesses help her: Princess Peach Toadstool had the worst timing in the universe.

Couldn't it wait until morning, Zelda wanted to blurt out. But something—perhaps a dignified and rigid upbringing she couldn't shake off no matter how much she tried—prompted her to stand there at the door to her room for what felt like an eternity to hear her friend out.

"So then Mario tells me that I am overreacting, that Samus did not suggest I was fat; merely, I had eaten too much cake and drank too much coffee at the party which made me look bloated. But now I'm worrying if I can even trust what Mario dear says because he never says anything like that or never implies I overreact about anything…"

Zelda bit her lip and quickly stole a glance behind Peach at a clock on the hallway wall. Half past midnight. Thirty minutes into the new day with Peach discussing her insecurities and suspicions with no end in sight. Maybe she did drink too much coffee.

"I don't know what all I should do, Zelda. I've never been told anything like that before. I'm thinking of confronting them both outright and just hearing them out completely. But is that the right course of action, I wonder? I don't want to be confrontational but I don't want to feel like this either…"

Another quick glance: 12:32 am. She didn't think her patience could withstand it anymore. "Peach, I'm sorry but I—"

"Oh my goodness, Zelda…!"

Zelda froze, unsure of what to do or say now that Peach had finally quieted down but was now staring at her with concern. "What is it, Peach?" she asked, suddenly feeling very paranoid.

"Are you alright?" Peach placed the back of her hand to her friend's forehead. "Your face and décolletage are all flushed and kind of sweaty…"

Feeling exposed on top of paranoid, Zelda pulled her robes closer to her body. "N-No… Er, I mean, I'm fine. I'm fine," she managed while inching away from her friend's inspective hands.

"Oh no, you're not fine. Oh, mercy me, you're coming down with a fever and here I am rambling on and on about something trivial." Peach hurriedly whisked Zelda around by the shoulders and began leading her into the room. "You, my friend, are going in there now and getting into bed. Move, move. I'll even make you some of my special peach hip tea. It'll knock you right out and you'll wake up feeling refreshed."

The Hylian princess anchored herself in place with heavy feet. "No!"

Peach paused and blinked. "'No'?"

"Er, uhm… No, you don't have to make me the tea—but I am feeling a bit under the weather," Zelda hastily said, thankful to the goddess Nayru for bestowing upon her the ability to think fast on her feet. "I'll go to bed right now and I will discuss this matter of yours with you at brunch. Is that a deal?"

Peach smiled brightly at her. "Deal! Good night, Zelda. I hope you feel better!" And with a wave, Peach left.

Zelda waited until Peach disappeared around the corner before hurrying back into her room. She leaned against the door after locking it, breathing out a tremendous sigh of relief.

"Took you long enough."

Ike was lying on the bed—her bed—with his arms casually folded behind his head. His shirt was off; his lower half was concealed by the thin white sheets thrown haphazardly over it.

Zelda rolled her eyes and removed her robe as she returned to bed.

"Was beginning to think she'd never leave."

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finis