A/N: I'm a glutton for punishment, apparently, and I'm back here writing more fanfiction instead of doing something productive… like homework. Yeah, I still have that. In a way, this is a sequel to my other fic, Tale of the Hero, but if you didn't read it (and you're almost 100% nodding your head because you didn't read it), this one is still a standalone without any issues. This one will be set in a fairly BOTW world. FYI, I tend to hijack names from the other games, but it's still BOTW.
The title refers to Zelda specifically, not going to spend time alone with each of the champions in this fic, sorry. Just figured I'd offer that heads up
The important stuff? T for violence. Probably a little bit more violent than the last one, but I'll keep it T. If it's bothering people, comment and I'll change the rating. I don't think I'm so sick that it'll be rated M though. But hey, you tell me. Thanks! Please R&R!
Chapter 1: The Seamstress
Zelda's fingers ached as she put down the blue cloth. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair before picking the needle up once again, only to prick her calloused finger. It had taken several beatings over the past few weeks as she slaved away, learning to sew entire outfits for the new champions. She could stitch a hole, mend a hem, and sew her jewels into her hair, but this was becoming incredibly tedious.
She tossed all of the blue fabric into a bag and dumped the sewing kit in as well before slinging it over her shoulder and storming out the door.
"P-Princess Zelda! W-Where are you going?" the guard at the door stammered.
With an annoyed huff, she stopped. "I'm going to the seamstress. I can't do this anymore. I need her help."
The guard fiddled with his uniform spear. "I'm not- not supposed to…"
Though Zelda tried to be peaceful with her guards, her father had gone too far when he'd confined her to the west wing of the castle until she'd finished the garb of the champions, his last attempt to keep her from the library and focused on the task at hand. The seamstress was in Castle Town.
"I know your orders, soldier. Now, you can come with me and keep me safe in Castle Town, summon the seamstress yourself, or let me go on my own while you inform my father. I need her right now, so I will get to her one way or another."
The guard continued to stammer before finally saluting, his mind made up. "Very well. Please stay here while I retrieve someone to replace me so I may bring the seamstress to you."
"Of course," Zelda said sweetly. As soon as he rounded the corner, she continued down the hall and through a hidden passage that had been in the castle for years. It led directly to Castle Town. She slid past the statue and into the darkness.
Feeling her way along the left wall, Zelda patiently continued down the pitch-black tunnel until she found her switch. It was her most frequently used tunnel, and she knew it well. She appeared in the Castle Town garden, peeking out before stepping out into the open. She was careful not to be spotted, or there'd be an immediate uproar, one that was even more than the usual bustle of Castle Town.
Maneuvering quickly down back alleys and untouched gardens, she finally made it to the house she'd been looking for, peeking into the window before entering. There were no other customers. She opened the door, the bell above ringing to signal her entrance, and closed the door quickly behind her.
"Hilda?" she called, moving to the next room where several gorgeous dresses were placed on mannequins, waiting to be purchased. Unable to help herself, Zelda ran her hand along the silk fabric.
"I can make you one like that next time," Hilda said, emerging from her workroom. She was young; her purple hair had always been Zelda's favorite creation, as beautiful as her outfits were.
"I just might take you up on that, Hilda. But not today, I'm afraid. I need your assistance. I cannot sew these items for the Champions. I believe I need your expertise. What am I doing wrong?"
Hilda looked around as she took the bag from Zelda. "No guards?"
Turning red, Zelda shrugged. "They'll be here soon. I told them to send for you, but they have to go through all the channels. I needed help immediately."
"Oh, Princess. Fine, let's see what you have here."
Hilda held up a long square of blue. "Have you… done anything to it?"
Zelda sighed and fell into the nearest chair. "Father gave me the measurements of each Champion, but I cannot get it right. I was making them all a sash to wear instead."
Laughing, Hilda took the next piece out. It was even thinner and longer than the other, in no way an outfit. "Oh, Princess, if you have your Champions running around in nothing but a sash, you will be attracting quite the crowd. Myself included. You are meant to make them all… an actual piece of clothing, correct?"
Zelda threw her head into her hands. "It's hopeless. I'll have Champions running around in the nude, and people will see that I'm even more of a failure. I can see it now, while we fight the Calamity, the Hylian Champion's entire tunic comes apart at the seams and he faces the Calamity half nude. And it's because Princess Zelda never figured out how to sew clothing."
Hilda had to suppress a laugh at the picture the Princess painted. "You're not a failure, Princess. But if you must fail at something, please let it be that the Champions must face the Calamity in their natural state. It will make our deaths just the least bit bearable."
"Hilda!" she chastised, though she had to disguise her own laugh. Clearing her throat, she gestured to the garb. "Could you please tell me what I am doing wrong?"
Zelda pushed the white thread through the blue fabric one final time. "I think this looks better, don't you, Hilda?"
Hilda grabbed the fabric in her hand and felt it with her fingers. "Yes, much. Though I still can't believe you are actually making sashes for some of the Champions."
"If I were to make one for all of them, they'd know you helped. At least this scarf will be different."
"It will be different, Princess." Hilda laughed, handing back the blue shirt she'd put together. "Now all you have are the embellishments. This won't come apart as he fights, so don't worry."
The door opened and set off the bell. Hilda excused herself and Zelda packed up her things, ready to leave, feeling confident in her skills of adding the final touches. She didn't want to leave while there were customers in the next room, so she waited by the door.
"And you are the Princess' dress maker, are you not?" asked one of the women who'd entered. "Those in the next room look very much like something she would wear.
"I am. I'd be happy to show them to you, if you'd like." Hilda spoke more loudly than usual, a hint to the princess that they were coming inside the room. Zelda tiptoed to the second door and slipped through as they headed into the room. Zelda glared at the door. The bell would give her away immediately.
"What's back here?" one of the women asked.
Zelda hurried to the first door again, but another woman spoke, much closer to her hiding place. "Come on, we don't have the time for you to explore the shop."
Her eyes widened and she stepped onto the stairs, wincing at the loud creak it made.
"What was that?" one of the women asked.
Hilda waved it off. "Oh, it's an old building. Sometimes, things creak. Don't worry about it."
"She's here, isn't she?" one of the women asked, her voice becoming ominous. "There was a rumor that she'd been spotted in the area."
Hilda's voice was shaking now, "I don't know what you mean."
Zelda stood frozen in the stairway, unsure if she should move, or if she should avoid the creaky stairs. Quickly, she realized that her feet wouldn't move, even if she wanted them to.
"Now!" one of the women yelled. Hilda let out a shrill cry, her footsteps racing towards the stairs.
She saw Zelda frozen in fear. "Go! Move!" Hilda pushed the princess up the stairs, forcing her to move her feet. Looking around at the small loft, she ushered Zelda into the corner and shielded the princess with her own body.
The two women slowly made their way up the stairs. They were clad in red, only the twisted symbol of the Sheikah on their white masks. In each of their hands, they held a vicious looking demon carver, taking their time to stalk toward the princess and her protector.
One of them slashed at Hilda, and she fell to the ground, her elbow bleeding. The woman behind the mask sniggered; it was a game to her.
Zelda grabbed Hilda and wished, now more than ever, that she wasn't a failure. If she'd awakened the power within her, she might have been able to do something to face the two members of the relentless Yiga Clan. They'd been after her for years, and thanks to her impatience, they were finally going to get their wish.
"Stay back!" Zelda yelled futilely, wrapping her arms around Hilda, desperate for someone to hold on to when she met the end of the blade.
There was a loud cry, and the body fell to the ground, fatally cut from behind. Zelda breathed heavily and checked Hilda. She was fine. The scream came from in front of her.
One of the Yiga clan members was on the ground in front of her, dead. She couldn't look up, couldn't see what was happening. Instinct kept her eyes closed. Something else inside her told her to open them again.
A young man, a familiar man, held his blood covered blade at his side, watching the second Yiga member. His dark blonde hair was tied away from his face, and he wore the uniform of a Royal Soldier. The Yiga member struck out with her blade, and the soldier easily threaded his blade through the center of the circular cleaver and disarmed the Yiga member. He looked like he was about to sheathe his weapon, to spare the unarmed assailant, but a fire began to emerge from the Yiga woman and the soldier shook his head, almost disgusted. Swinging the word around, he was easily able to impale her, ending her life before the fire made it off her palm. He pulled the sword from the corpse and turned to the two women in the corner.
Upon seeing the princess, he quickly dropped to one knee, his icy blue eyes falling to the floor.
"What are you doing here, soldier?" Zelda asked breathlessly, grateful that a soldier was nearby.
He kept his head face down. "I was asked to bring the seamstress to you."