Once in a Lifetime - Zelda fanfic by AnguA
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Chapter one . . .
"Hey Link!" shouted the tiny yet powerful voice in Link's ear. "Get up already!".
Faintly, through the mists and veils of his dreaming mind, the hero of time thought he heard something . . . someone calling him? Dismissing the concern as far less important than adequate shut-eye, Link's drifting consciousness delved back into the sleepy world he had so briefly left, directing his slack body to turn to one side in the process.
"LINK!! UP!!" screeched Navi as she zapped him with a bolt of magic. He moaned and rolled over yet again as he heard her call, but when the tingling burst of fairy magic hit him Link sat up with a start. With a well practised motion, he grabbed for his sword resting in it's scabbard, the belt strap tied around the ornate bed head. In seconds, the point of the Kokiri dagger was resting mere centimetres from Navi's face. She dodged it easily, but angrily, furious she had allowed her guard to be let down so easily.
"Oh, it's you." said Link, his voice filled with as much relief as it was with annoyance. He lowered his weapon and returned it to it's keeping place, marvelling, as he always did, at the way the fairy-forged metal blade slid so easily into it's leather sheath.
"So the famed hero of time has finally awoken?" said Navi, teasing mockingly, but not maliciously. Like her mother and grandmother, and others before her, she shared with them not only her name, but the same moody, yet strangely charismatic, temperament that was her most fabled trademark besides her beauty, though virtually unknown to those outside her species and height range. That, and the so-called 'curse' of the family. Always, since the first Link was born in the remote forest of the Kokiri children, to the furthest reaches of time, they were, and would be, protectors of the Hero of Time. Whether destiny, genetics, coincidence or just plain bad luck played any part in the arrangement, only the three goddesses knew. The ancient family was stuck with various incarnations of Links for reasons even the King's most highly trained mages were at a loss to explain. Disadvantageous as the pact was to the very first guardian, Navi felt that nothing could be as much as an ordeal as having to spend such copious amounts of time with a confused, hormonal fourteen year old boy.
In truth, Navi admitted to herself, he was a nice enough youth (too nice, she had often thought to herself during the short space of time they had known each other), with a warm and generous spirit, a sense of humour as well as duty, excellently honed fighting skills, and just about every other gentlemanly trait one would expect from the Hero of Time. In time, they might even manage to be friends, like her ancestors before her. Unlike some of them, though, Navi did not plan to take that friendship a step further - of course, it was her ancestors' own business as to what they did in the past, but Navi had no intention of following in their romantic footsteps.
A sudden snapping of fingers awoke Navi from her thoughtful reverie, but when she looked up, Link was already out of bed and pulling the thick velvet curtains of the castle room. Thankful for this moment to recompose herself and regain authority, Navi refrained from quipping a one liner, and flitted over to the window to observe the view instead.
Link felt rather than saw the fairy arrive next to him; which was just as well, since his eyesight was trained solely on the panorama before him. From the lofty heights of Castle Hyrule's guest towers windows, an observer had a view of the beautiful country that was unrivalled by that of any other vantage point, save the monolithic Death Mountain. The vast expanse of thriving grassland surrounding the castle that was Hyrule Field spread out like an infinite green blanket, it's image enhanced rather than marred by the picturesque ruins, holes, and clumps of bushes that were as much a part of Hyrule's ragged history as the field itself.
Placing both hands firmly on the window sill, and slowly allowing his toned arms to support his body weight, the hero of time was able to lean his torso out of the window, smiling as the familiar east wind ruffled his sandy hair. At least some things are the same wherever you go . . . he thought, remembering tenderly the moments he had shared with friends and family back in the forest . . . his forest.
Straining, the boy turned his elfin face to the wind and thought, faintly, he could smell the gentle and comforting scent of his birthplace. Blue eyes turned also to the east, squinting in vain to catch even a fleeting glimpse of his Kokiri world hidden beyond the horizon. Was it truly only a week ago that he had been summoned from his peaceful life in the forest? Seven days ago, Link had been content. Seven days ago, the teenager had just been another forest kid, doing normal forest things - hanging out with his friends, playing pranks, learning to sword fight, arguing with his parents. Seven days ago, the unassuming youth would never have believed he would be the next hero of time. Of course, the idea had not been so alien to the inhabitants of Kokiri forest - every Hero of Time up until the present had been from the reclusive village turned large town. In retrospect, it was hardly surprising that nearly every second male child (and some female) had the name of Link bestowed upon them by hopeful parents, or that most children from the age of 5 or so upwards insisted on being trained in the art of swordsmanship. And there were plenty more adopted children where I came from, thought Link as he fondly visualised his foster parents in his mind's eye. But he was the one who had been chosen, he was the one who had been predestined inescapably since birth. And so he had been whisked off, travelling in a Sheikah entourage, to the castle to begin his training. Already, he felt the first few pebbles of the weight that would in time be placed upon the Protector of Hyrule's shoulders - his shoulders.
Fate . . . Link thought, as he turned regretfully away from the aperture before him. There was a saying, he recollected vaguely from the still sleep-ridden recesses of his mind, an everyday expression that seemed fittingly descriptive in light of his current situation: "Who would escape their destiny, when even Time's Hero is within fate's choking grasp?" Sighing heavily, the teenager prepared for breakfast with the royal family.
"Princess?" called the middle-aged woman through the doorway to the Royal bedchambers. Down a distant hallway, in a surprisingly plain bedroom, a young woman paused briefly enough to call out a quick "Coming!", before hurriedly sweeping a comb through her hair and rushing out the door, shoes and tiara in her hands. As the princess Zelda ran, her blonde hair streaming behind her like silk, she managed to place her tiara quite accurately on her head while she navigated the many corridors and passageways of the palace; it was a feat she had mastered several years ago, and had proved an invaluable technique to avoid her father's anger on those all to frequent occasions when she was late for family gatherings. Especially these early breakfasts . . . she muttered under her breath, though the attempt at anger was half-hearted; in truth the princess was not nearly as annoyed with the arrangement as she was usually prone to be. After all, she chided herself, pausing as long as she dared to while struggling to slip on a particularly ornate sandal, it's not every day the hero of time comes to visit!
To say that Zelda was curious about the palace's new arrival was an understatement to say the very least. The princess's love of Hyrule's history, myth and folklore was a controversial, and well known topic of conversation upon every citizen's lips. Even the thickest of deku-scrubs, living deep within a field hole for the past 15 years would surely have heard the plethora of rumours (some outrageous, some even more so) that began to circulate wildly around the country barely days after the princess's troubled birth. While Zelda was lucky to be alive, her mother fared not so well, dying less than a year later, still weakened from complications arising form Zelda's birth. The fact that the headstrong princess was close friends with the wizened sage Kaeopora Gaebora, just so happened to be the ninth Zelda to ascend to the throne, and had a seemingly insatiable thirst for danger and adventure surely fuelled the gossip 'problem' (as the court noblemen refereed to it), no doubt encouraging many a chin to wag. As for the princess herself, well, she could hardly mind when the things that most people were saying about her had a lot more than a grain of truth in them, and were, for the large part, complimentary and inoffensive. She saw nothing overly disrespectful or insulting about people thinking of her as a bookworm, or chronic day-dreamer. As Zelda had explained many times over to her both her father and his shifty advisers, there was no fault in speaking the truth. Besides, as she would repeatedly point out (very often publicly, to her father's severe embarrassment), the nation was desperately under stocked in historical scholars, and it was in the kingdom's interests that she continued her studies, especially since it was about time the king set about finding a new hero of time.
And now that father's found him, thought Zelda, a sly smile playing across her lips, he'll have to be tutored in the darker aspects of Hyrule's past by the Sheikah. If he's allowed to learn these, then surely father can have no excuse as to why I can't study them either. In fact-
"Princess!" came her nursemaid's insistent voice. Groaning and mentally putting aside her previous thoughts, Zelda gathered her skirts higher and picked up speed. A few corners and passageways later, she held out her arms and came to a crashing halt against a Triforce tapestry hanging from one of six walls in one of the many reception halls. Impa, whom she had narrowly missed and was standing just beside her with an air of serene grace which defied her age, looked at the tardy princess with a stern frown that was softened by her smiling juniper eyes.
"Hurry along now, princess." She said as her charge sat on the red carpeted floor, struggling with her cruelly heeled shoes. Zelda grinned when she had finished, and held out a delicate hand attached to a lithe arm. With a chuckle her nursemaid reached forward to help her to her feet.
"Quickly!" she smiled as she whispered, pushing the princess along towards the ornate dining room door and brushing the debris from her gown simultaneously. "Today is the day that may just change your life forever . . ." Zelda swung around, puzzled, and searched the Sheikah's face. Meeting her eyes briefly, she was surprised to see the small, triangular tattoos under Impa's eyes glowing faintly, a sign that the woman must be casting some sort of magic.
"A premonition . . .?" asked Zelda, her voice belying both her curiosity and nervousness. Impa only smiled and turned the princess around, shooing her gently into the Dining Hall and headlong into her destiny.
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[author's notes . . . My first uploaded (and serious) fic, and my first cliff-hanger-type chapter thingie. Don't worry, the action will start to pick up within the next few chapters, I just had to establish the personalities of the two main characters . . . Zelda's certainly different from a lot of other princesses o_O I guess I wanted to write about a nerd, like me. Anyways, finally, here it is. A (hopefully) epic fanfic about one of the greatest games of all time. The basic premise was based on a very cruddy fic I wrote a little over two years ago, when I first bought zelda64 . . . but now it seems to have mutated into something a lot bigger, and a hell of a lot different. What have I done? Hehe . . . Reviews, anyone? Thanks ^_^ luv angua]
