A tremendous thanks to Ms. Western Ink for lending her narrative brilliance to the story and making so many passages sound so lovely.

- A.-D.

-Chapter I

It was, really, astonishingly simple. The Goddesses had ordained her family the just rulers of Hyrule. There was no further justification needed, the Royal Family's rule was simply part of the cosmic balance they had planned. It was as natural as the ebb and flow of tides and the changing of the seasons. It needed no more contemplation or defense than the question of why rivers flow downhill.

But the balance had been upended. It had been two years since his accession. She had seen the consequences. Harvests failed. Monsters arose from the earth to stalk the formerly vibrant market squares of Castletown. No corner of the land had escaped pestilence. Her beloved world, her birthright, was rotting before her eyes in the hands of a desert thief. The continued survival of the land rested on her ascension to the throne and the restoration of the family to the throne as the Goddesses had intended.

She had, for those two years, somehow thought that she could reclaim the throne by force. That, through clever disguises and magic, she could hold out until he returned, or even defeat the tyrant on her own and take back what was rightfully hers and restore it to its former glory. So willing, she was, to believe in a hero and all that he embodied. Now, as people withered away, her country wilted more each day, she was sure she'd been lost in a naïve fantasy of storybook proportions. If she could not win her country back on the, evidently baseless, principle that good always trumps evil then she clearly needed to reexamine her methodology.

It was time for more drastic, more pragmatic measures. There could be much said, after all, for time-honored traditions. One of the oldest, of course, was about to make itself infinitely useful to her. Ganondorf, de facto Lord and King of Hyrule, was just a man but she, woeful prisoner that she was, was not just a woman. She was the last blood-member of the Royal family, a direct ruling descendant. Zelda regarded her reflection in the mirror attached to her tiny dressing table, seeing little but desperation.

Question was: could she make that scheming man see the value in wedding her?

Better yet: how did she ask?

Well, perhaps the second wasn't really much of a question. She had been here, captive, for weeks now and never once seen another soul enter or exit her room. Food appeared on trays without much fanfare. It only stood to reason...

"Gannondorf," she addressed the empty room, her speech slightly louder than normal.

She paused, was she sure she wanted to do this? Of course she didn't want to; the question was if she saw any other solution. She didn't.

"...I should like an audience with you. I have a proposition which could be to our mutual benefit." The entrepreneurial tone did not strike her as odd, and she imagined that her father had several years ago used similar phrasing when arranging her marriage to some future foreign noble. Of course, he was (and probably the Noble, too) dead now and the promise no longer valid.

It could not have been more than five minutes before her door swung open and he entered. Light gleamed off the armor plating across his shoulders. The door, a heavy wood, swung closed under its own weight and clicked shut with a bang.

He regarded her a long moment and she turned fully to face him. "Is the Princess calling?"

Her response was immediate, "We should m-" Marry. And now the meaning of just what she was proposing came to her. They would spend the next few weeks seeing each other daily, planning the details of the ceremony. She would, in shame of course, announce the engagement to her people who would react...the goddesses only knew.

Then there would be the ceremony, hopefully short. After that she would have to endure him most the day, every day, for the rest of her life. They would share a home. Receive audiences together. And...no, she wouldn't think about that. This was necessary. "We should establish a...tie by which we...rule jointly."

"Do you wish to imply, Princess, that I am in need of your assistance?"

"No." Her reply came out too quickly for a Head of State. "No," this time the fright was not as apparent, "I am proposing that we wed."

His grin, a malicious slash across his lips preceded his reply. "Wed?"

"Yes." Her enunciation slowed to a crawl. "Be married. You would be King. I would be Queen. The health of this land depends upon my family remaining upon the throne. I cannot remove you. So I must keep power by other means."

"What do you offer, Princess, to assure me this is no scheme on your part to play dangerous games with that boy in green?"

He was truly shameless; she thought and wondered why she was surprised. He knew, just as well as she, that there had been no word of "that boy in green" for years, and using him as justification to demand even larger concessions was underhanded.

"I offer my word; if we are to marry you already have everything else." Nervous hands picked at the fabric of her gloves.

Ganondorf's laughter echoed off the walls of her chambers. When he took note of her again, his eyes were alight. "Plan your wedding, girl."

And so she planned. Announcement of the engagement was first.

It was time-honored tradition among the members of the Royal Family to send out the royal couriers upon confirmation of the princess' future marriage. Two honored guards were chosen for the duty. It had always been a favorite sight of hers, to see the horses adorned in equine finery. They would travel out, East and West, stopping at each village and town along the way delivering the news. The thought never occurred to her that, with Castletown reduced to rubble and only a handful of living souls left, there were neither riders nor a way to continue the tradition, and so it was only upon requesting the use of two of Ganondorf's messengers that she learned she would need to make other plans for the announcement.

Gannondorf was the first to propose she simply make the announcement herself. Neither the Zora nor the Gorons had ever attended the weddings of the Hylian Royal Family before, and though there was perhaps a chance they would have received invitations in hopes of promoting further cooperation, her father was not involved in this wedding. The Gerudo would have already heard the news from their King, and so really the only place she needed to bring the news was Kakariko Village.

And then it struck her. If she was to ride to Kakariko and announce the engagement herself, it would be the perfect opportunity for escape. She would be accompanied by some guards, of course to prevent it, but Kakariko was a whole town. No doubt there would be enough villagers to dispatch a few stalfos and free her. Still in the Evil King's presence, she began to draft her escape. She had the opportunity to restore Hylian rule without wedding him after all!

She would escape, this required barely any planning, he had made it so easy, and then: well, that was not very clear. What did she stand to gain? Not marrying him, of course and, really, this was quite preferable as it meant she needn't stain or dilute the nobility of the Royal Family's line by wedding some Gerudo. But it was not assured that she would regain the throne, so really the question was whether the added benefit of keeping Gannondorf away from the throne made a less-certain plan better. It was too late in the day to begin riding out now, but she would need to make up her mind soon.

There were no true windows in her room, only small openings near the ceiling that gave a few lumens and allowed her to hear the outside. The room remained nearly black when she awoke; the only indication that it was morning was the crowing of roosters outside. When dawn finally drifted down to her, not only had she reached a decision, she was resolute in it. She would escape. The plan was quite simple, and had not changed much from the night before: Zelda would pack everything she could fit in a small, inconspicuous bag and ride for the Kokiri Forest, where monsters could not enter. From there, well, Sheikah tactics had served well in the past. It was clearly time for Princess Zelda to go on hiatus.

The dim light filtering down from above was enough to locate her matches and light her oil lamp. From there, she packed quickly. Her closet fixings weren't even a fraction of her former wardrobe, so she dressed with haste. She needed to be downstairs soon to head out on horseback or the delay would seem suspicious. It would be even more suspicious if she was late for her first ever appearance at breakfast with her new fiancé. He had, to her utter surprise, delivered a missive to her last the last evening stating that she was to appear at the table for meals henceforth.

Putting the thought from her mind she grabbed her bag, a tiny non-descript thing that looked like it would hold much less than it actually did. That it was a rather garish shade of pink would have to be ignored. The horrid thing had been a gift one year from someone and she supposed the decent thing to do was remember who had given it to her, but who had time for details?
The Ocarina was the first to go in, then a bottle filled with water and last, her old Sheikah costume. Food, things she had stored from her meal trays from days in captivity, disappeared inside also. A moment's pause, and then the bag was closed. With trepidation, she approached her heavy wooden door and tried the latch.

It was unlocked.

It swung open revealing the curved stone tower stairs and the red carpet that ran so smoothly down them. Torches glowed on the inner walls lighting her way. Steeling herself, she pushed the bag up her shoulder, smoothed her skirt, and started down.

At the base of the stairs, light gleamed off the shining armor plates of two iron knuckles. They were perfectly still as she stopped on the second stair from the bottom and watched. There wasn't so much as a twitch, no glowing eyes peering down at her from behind steel plates, no tinkling of hidden chain mail, nothing. Tentatively, she stepped down and then darted between the suits half fearing they would raise their axes and take off her arms.

They didn't move.

Peering back and gave them a quick once over and started off for the dining room. Her relief was short lived. Turning into the next hall she found herself stepping into a patrol. One stalfos was moving away from her and another was headed toward. If she were to divert to another hall it was likely she'd run into even more unpleasant things.

The deep set red glow that was the eyes of the skeleton guard didn't so much as flicker when she appeared in the doorway. Careful measured steps continued on, click, clicking against the stone as they moved. When the one closest to her was within feet, she held her breath, only to watch it turn, sword and shield in hand, and continue on its circuit up the hall.

With no other options, she stepped in after it. There were a few feet between her and the monster and she watched it carefully as she followed behind it, not sure what she'd do if it turned and swung that giant sword at her. When it came to passing the stalfos patrolling in the opposite direction she found herself slowing, preparing to duck if it did swing the sword, but it walked past. The bony menace didn't even turn its head.

Halfway to the end, she took the open archway that led directly to the dining room.

He had kept the table from when her father reigned. It was ash and three panels in length, with very shallow carvings covering its surface and then filled over in silver. The carvings depicted, in approximately chronological order, major events in the history of Hyrule and in his own reign. The last third of the table, nearest her had been left blank for events in his reign yet (and not) to come. Her future husband sat at the opposite end of the room and she tried not to look at him as she took the seat nearest the archway.

A glance intended to be quick ended up a study. Her intended was opposite of her at the table, both elbows propped up; his fingers laced together, a look of utter boredom on his face. Within moments of her sitting, servants appeared with covered plates. Her Lord was served first.

Zelda looked away from him to focus on the staff, recognizing several pale but familiar faces. Castletown was in ruins but members of her staff were still alive? Were they all alive or just some of them? Why, for the matter, had they been spared? Was it simple practicality or for some other reason?

The servantry, familiar or not, didn't raise their eyes from the floor as they milled around the table delivering items, plates, cups pitchers, napkins and utensils. As the last of the items found its rightful place, including an odd spray of flowers for a centerpiece, admittedly small, the harried humans scurried away like mice.

The Gerudo King eyed her a long moment before remarking. "Afraid I'm going to bite you?"

Her disdain nearly overtook her royal etiquette and 'It wouldn't be below you' was on her tongue and awaiting release as soon as she heard the suggestion. She fought back her revulsion and made a weak excuse, something about needing to sit in this particular chair because of her back.

He uncovered his tray with a smirk. The food smelled delicious and she wondered if she hadn't missed dining in this special place. "Your escorts have been chosen."

"Who are they to be?" she asked.

As if her very words summoned them, two stalfos stepped through the archway. Swords gleamed in their skeletal fingers and red plumes dangled from their heads. "You should find them adequate."

"Of course," she said, looking over their swords, polished and reflecting the world in an orange hue. She attributed the peculiar colouration to the metal used. Escape would be difficult, but not impossible. She could, at the very least, outrun them, and probably defeat them. "When are we to depart?"

"At your discretion, Princess, the village is a small distance from here. You should have little difficulty."

"Then I shall leave immediately after breakfast." She had not touched her food.

"Does the food offend?" The notion seemed to please him, but it was fleeting. "On your trip, be careful to remember whose staying behind."

There were the clicking steps again, not from the archway but the small doorway behind the Gerudo King that led to the kitchens. A stalfos, so grimy he almost had a green slickness to his bones, was barely visible behind the dowdy figure that found itself thrust in the doorway. A servant girl, her head bent, stumbled forward and fell to her knees.

A terrible look of consternation fell over the princess as she stared at the bent girl on the floor. Surely he didn't mean-? That flat line of her lips and the downturn of her brow accompanied her answer. "I assure you I take such things into very careful account." With that she reached for her fork and lowered her eyes carefully to the tablecloth.