So, that was it. The hammer had finally fallen. Her father wanted her to marry politically, and he was not to be argued with.
She shook with a righteous anger, a fury welling up within her, even as she strode with an outward calm back to her chambers. All the injustices she had ever felt inflicted on her gender were flitting across her mind now as a lightning fast picture book, doing nothing to ease the scream of frustration threatening to erupt from her diaphragm.
The servants who hurried past, preparing for the evening's festivities saw nothing amiss with the heir to the throne of Hyrule, aside from a jawline held perhaps more firmly than usual. Zelda kept her inner turmoil on a tight rein – a credit to her excellent tutelage in the art of royal behaviour over the years, particularly from her guardian, Impa. The necessary diplomatic skills required of a monarch also required a watertight external appearance; no weaknesses, under any circumstances. As a result, few could tell what thoughts lay behind those deceptively innocence blue eyes, unless Zelda chose to tell them.
As she swept back towards her rooms on the east wing of the castle, she focused on relaxing her shoulders, keeping her strides easy and expression perfectly neutral. As this had become second nature to her several years ago, her mind was mostly free to concentrate on the tight knot of anger balling in her stomach. How could her father do this? How could he spring this on her...and forbidding anyone else to inform her this princeling was visiting, tonight. He had informed her (standing firmly on much pomp and ceremony, as he was wont to do when nervous) that this Prince Idiot was her husband-to-be, and it was a done deal in all but officialdom. He was to propose to her during his month long stay, she would accept – here Zelda had interrupted her father's rehearsed little spiel.
"– And I will be receiving a neat little bundle of wheat stooks as my wedding gift, I suppose?" she had spat out angrily.
"What? Zelda, you understand as well as I do that – "the King had tried, looking less certain of himself by the second.
"What I understand is that Terabith has had a prodigious wheat harvest this year, which is only equalled by their notoriety for refusing to accept a term of trade with any of it's neighbours. What I fail to understand however, is why you now think me a simpleton. You have never done so before." At this, Zelda paused her furious pacing of father's elegant, wood- panelled study, and turned at him with an almost hurt expression. Heaving a sigh, the King rose from his desk and crossed the room to the small window overlooking the castle courtyard.
"This isn't particularly pleasant for me either Zelda. The Goddesses know, the last thing I wish is to send you from my company. Your mother would never...." The King trailed off. He turned to Zelda. Even through her fury, she saw how very weary he seemed.
"I do not think you a simpleton, child. So I know you understand my position, though you claim not. You know how Ganondorf ravaged our crops. We have little chance of providing even the barest of provisions for our peoples this year." He expelled another drawn-out sigh. "Though it pains me, I am afraid the time has come for last measures."
Zelda resumed her pacing, refusing to be placated. "What of the Zoras? Will they not assist us in our hour of need? Or Ganondorf caught all the fish as well, I take it?"
The King closed his eyes, and a bite of impatience was detectable in his tone as he answered. "The Zoras will not clear out their lakes and rivers for us, Zelda, as you know full well. I cannot ask them for this; it was not in the terms of our peace treaty – "
"I will not be condemned to marriage over the sake of a peace treaty!" Zelda all but shouted, a slight note of desperation shaking her voice. "You do not even attempt to save me from this...this imprisonment."
"Zelda! Enough! Do not speak to me as though this were something I enjoy!" The King said angrily, as he strode back to his desk. "The Crown Prince of Terabith will not accept our trade agreement under any other terms than the marriage of his son to an heir of the Realm. There is no other way, Zelda!"
Zelda saw the steel set to her father eyes, coupled perhaps with the smallest degree of pleading. She felt as though she had plunged into icy water, and her stomach dropped with a sickening lurch. He truly intended to marry her off for the sake of politics. True, she knew quite well the desperate situation Hyrule was suffering in the wake of Ganondorf's atrocities. Perhaps...a part of her understood. But he had promised her, he had promised she would never be a pretty bystander when it came to leading their country. He swore he would never underestimate her judgement again, not since...well, since Link. They would rule jointly, conferring on all matters, letting her determine her own fate as opposed to countless other female royals before her. And this, ambushing her, guilting her, forcing her to marry some man she had never seen....well, he had broken that promise. She was still just a pawn, to be tossed about and cast off at the convenience of her elders. Like every other princess in history.
Zelda rose to her feet, and her righteous anger flickered back to life. Trembling now, she said in a tight, low voice, "There is always another way. This is simply the easiest, is it not, my liege?" She knew the official address would hurt and insult him, and she didn't care.
"Goddesses be damned, Zelda, Hyrule will starve!" But she was already gone, the heavy oak door whispering quietly closed behind her. The King slumped back in his exquisitely tooled leather chair, head in his hands.
Zelda pushed open the door that led into the hallway adjacient to her chambers. She forced herself to politely acknowledge with a smile an advisor to her father who was striding down the corridor in the opposite direction. The musty smell of his court robes was overwhelming as he swept past with a pompous nod, and she resisted the urge to break into a run. Finally, she pushed open the door to her suite with perhaps a little more haste than intended, but controlled herself enough to shut the door instead of letting it slam. Alone at last, she shrugged off all pretence and ran to her bed, fell face down into the pillows, and yelled as hard and loud as she could. She yelled again and again, muffled by the pillow, until her throat was raw. It wasn't until she stopped and tasted salt on her tongue did she notice the tears streaming down her face. She curled up around the pillow hugged to her chest, and began to cry in earnest.
It seemed hours until she ostensibly exhausted her supply of tears. She no longer felt angry, just drained and weak. Zelda climbed slowly off her magnificent, velvet canopied bed, and crossed the room to the washstand in a corner. The maids had left fresh linen towels there this morning, as well as a pitcher of both cold and warm water. She carefully washed her face, and critically examined herself in the polished glass which lay on a stand nearby. Apart from being slightly bloodshot, her eyes were as normal, as well as the rest of her face.
She carried the glass over to her window seat, and arranged the plush cushions around herself. Lowering the glass to her lap, she exhaled deeply, and then lifted it again to eye level. Examining her reflection, she attempted to view herself impartially, like a stranger. She had never been particularly concerned by appearance, and had been rather infamous amongst her attendants as a child for being completely averted to anything with frills – which, unfortunately, constituted most of the royal wardrobe.
How would this prince find her? She knew she was nice-looking – beautiful, some would say. Her hair was a lovely warm golden, falling in long waves today. Her skin was smooth, with only a smattering of faded freckles across the nose, remnants of a childhood spent primarily out of doors. Elegant brows and long lashes, both gifts from her mother. Eyes – a deep blue, very youthful in appearance. She knew more than one unsuspecting victim of those innocent eyes. Now, she could see the tiny lines framing them, and the last traces of puffiness still lingering from her crying bout.
Zelda lowered the glass with a trembly sigh, and inwardly berated herself. This was not characteristic for her. Mooning over reflections, thinking depressive thoughts. She should not have to resign herself or her freedom so easily!
Even now, in her heart of hearts, a tiny voice told her it was no use. There really was no other way to feed the populace she cared for so deeply. She stared out the window at the river flowing past, heart leaden.
A knock at the door interrupted her reverie. One last glance in the glass shining in her lap confirmed that she was now returned to normal. "Enter", she called, voice clear.
A tall, striking woman entered, iron-grey hair pulled severely back into a knot at the base of her neck. Her simple navy robes adorned only with strange traditional symbols, hung loosely off her frame, disguising a powerful physique. Though a muscular woman, her footsteps were feather light, undetectable to all but the keenest ear. There was a knowing, penetrating look in her gaze as she appraised her charge of the last nineteen years. "You've been crying." She stated without preamble.
Zelda offered her attendant a weak smile, and turned back towards the view of the river. The Sheikah woman known as Impa joined her on the luxurious velvet seat, folding her long frame into a cross-legged position opposite the princess. She calmly templed her hands in front of her face, and regarded Zelda silently for a few moments. Seemingly reaching a conclusion, she lowered them to her lap.
"So, you are aware then."
"Of what?"
"Of the King's plans for you and the princeling of Terabith."
"You knew?" Zelda exclaimed, aghast. Impa tutted dismissively.
"Of course I didn't, you silly child. I was just informed not five minutes hence in an announcement given to the general staff. No one knew." Impa said, with a note of frustration creeping into her normally melodious voice. "It seems then, that the King's plans are final."
Zelda nodded morosely.
"And you are not overjoyed with the prospect, if the tears are an indication." Impa stated. Zelda threw her a reproachful look.
"Do you even have to ask? I thought you knew me better than that." She knew she was speaking like a sulky child, but she was still too miserable and tired to attempt better.
"I do know you better than that. I know that you know the crisis we find ourselves unwilling upon the brink of. I also know that you realise there is no other way to resolve it save a blessing from the Goddesses themselves, and this may be a burden you must force yourself to bear on behalf of Hyrule."
Zelda felt her ire rising again. It was quick to flare recently. "So I take you defend my father's opinion then? I should be bought and sold like common chattel to the highest bidder?" She rose quickly from the seat, hands clenched at her sides. "Well, I won't! I won't throw away my freedom so cheaply! They can't make me!" Zelda all but shouted the last words, her lovely face red with temper. She cursed inwardly as she felt those damnable tears threatening to rise again. "Why do you take his side, Impa? I see now that he only thinks of me as a diplomatic bargaining chip....how he always thought of me." She turned her back to Impa and furiously blinked away a few traitorous beads of water which had welled in the corners of her eyes. "And you too, you feel that a princess is only fit for a profitable marriage, as he does? I – "
"Zelda, stop it. You are working yourself into a state, and that helps no one." Impa raised herself and stood in front of the now shaking young girl. She gently tucked a loose lock of hair back behind her pointed ear, and placed a calming hand on Zelda's forehead. It was an old technique of the Sheikah to placate the ill or spiritually distressed, drawing the injurious thoughts from the mind and giving common sense a chance to triumph.
"Now, " the older woman said in a quietly soothing tone, "You know that I serve the Royal Family, but my first allegiance is to you, dear child. If I had known of this plan, I would have told you, even if I was bade against it. Secondly, I do not approve of the King's machinations unknown to you...but I do feel...that perhaps it is the only way. I know you see this in your mind's eye, Zelda, though your heart grieves."
Eyes closed, Zelda gave a barely perceptible nod.
"But that does not necessarily mean we relinquish hope now, does it?" Zelda's eyes opened slowly, and raised them to meet those of her wizened bodyguard. Impa nodded once, slowly, returning the gaze with equal measure. Zelda leaned forward and was received into the arms of her surrogate mother. Tightly pressed against Impa's hardened muscles, the princess of the Realm allowed herself a small thrill of hope. Perhaps all was not yet lost.
She shook with a righteous anger, a fury welling up within her, even as she strode with an outward calm back to her chambers. All the injustices she had ever felt inflicted on her gender were flitting across her mind now as a lightning fast picture book, doing nothing to ease the scream of frustration threatening to erupt from her diaphragm.
The servants who hurried past, preparing for the evening's festivities saw nothing amiss with the heir to the throne of Hyrule, aside from a jawline held perhaps more firmly than usual. Zelda kept her inner turmoil on a tight rein – a credit to her excellent tutelage in the art of royal behaviour over the years, particularly from her guardian, Impa. The necessary diplomatic skills required of a monarch also required a watertight external appearance; no weaknesses, under any circumstances. As a result, few could tell what thoughts lay behind those deceptively innocence blue eyes, unless Zelda chose to tell them.
As she swept back towards her rooms on the east wing of the castle, she focused on relaxing her shoulders, keeping her strides easy and expression perfectly neutral. As this had become second nature to her several years ago, her mind was mostly free to concentrate on the tight knot of anger balling in her stomach. How could her father do this? How could he spring this on her...and forbidding anyone else to inform her this princeling was visiting, tonight. He had informed her (standing firmly on much pomp and ceremony, as he was wont to do when nervous) that this Prince Idiot was her husband-to-be, and it was a done deal in all but officialdom. He was to propose to her during his month long stay, she would accept – here Zelda had interrupted her father's rehearsed little spiel.
"– And I will be receiving a neat little bundle of wheat stooks as my wedding gift, I suppose?" she had spat out angrily.
"What? Zelda, you understand as well as I do that – "the King had tried, looking less certain of himself by the second.
"What I understand is that Terabith has had a prodigious wheat harvest this year, which is only equalled by their notoriety for refusing to accept a term of trade with any of it's neighbours. What I fail to understand however, is why you now think me a simpleton. You have never done so before." At this, Zelda paused her furious pacing of father's elegant, wood- panelled study, and turned at him with an almost hurt expression. Heaving a sigh, the King rose from his desk and crossed the room to the small window overlooking the castle courtyard.
"This isn't particularly pleasant for me either Zelda. The Goddesses know, the last thing I wish is to send you from my company. Your mother would never...." The King trailed off. He turned to Zelda. Even through her fury, she saw how very weary he seemed.
"I do not think you a simpleton, child. So I know you understand my position, though you claim not. You know how Ganondorf ravaged our crops. We have little chance of providing even the barest of provisions for our peoples this year." He expelled another drawn-out sigh. "Though it pains me, I am afraid the time has come for last measures."
Zelda resumed her pacing, refusing to be placated. "What of the Zoras? Will they not assist us in our hour of need? Or Ganondorf caught all the fish as well, I take it?"
The King closed his eyes, and a bite of impatience was detectable in his tone as he answered. "The Zoras will not clear out their lakes and rivers for us, Zelda, as you know full well. I cannot ask them for this; it was not in the terms of our peace treaty – "
"I will not be condemned to marriage over the sake of a peace treaty!" Zelda all but shouted, a slight note of desperation shaking her voice. "You do not even attempt to save me from this...this imprisonment."
"Zelda! Enough! Do not speak to me as though this were something I enjoy!" The King said angrily, as he strode back to his desk. "The Crown Prince of Terabith will not accept our trade agreement under any other terms than the marriage of his son to an heir of the Realm. There is no other way, Zelda!"
Zelda saw the steel set to her father eyes, coupled perhaps with the smallest degree of pleading. She felt as though she had plunged into icy water, and her stomach dropped with a sickening lurch. He truly intended to marry her off for the sake of politics. True, she knew quite well the desperate situation Hyrule was suffering in the wake of Ganondorf's atrocities. Perhaps...a part of her understood. But he had promised her, he had promised she would never be a pretty bystander when it came to leading their country. He swore he would never underestimate her judgement again, not since...well, since Link. They would rule jointly, conferring on all matters, letting her determine her own fate as opposed to countless other female royals before her. And this, ambushing her, guilting her, forcing her to marry some man she had never seen....well, he had broken that promise. She was still just a pawn, to be tossed about and cast off at the convenience of her elders. Like every other princess in history.
Zelda rose to her feet, and her righteous anger flickered back to life. Trembling now, she said in a tight, low voice, "There is always another way. This is simply the easiest, is it not, my liege?" She knew the official address would hurt and insult him, and she didn't care.
"Goddesses be damned, Zelda, Hyrule will starve!" But she was already gone, the heavy oak door whispering quietly closed behind her. The King slumped back in his exquisitely tooled leather chair, head in his hands.
Zelda pushed open the door that led into the hallway adjacient to her chambers. She forced herself to politely acknowledge with a smile an advisor to her father who was striding down the corridor in the opposite direction. The musty smell of his court robes was overwhelming as he swept past with a pompous nod, and she resisted the urge to break into a run. Finally, she pushed open the door to her suite with perhaps a little more haste than intended, but controlled herself enough to shut the door instead of letting it slam. Alone at last, she shrugged off all pretence and ran to her bed, fell face down into the pillows, and yelled as hard and loud as she could. She yelled again and again, muffled by the pillow, until her throat was raw. It wasn't until she stopped and tasted salt on her tongue did she notice the tears streaming down her face. She curled up around the pillow hugged to her chest, and began to cry in earnest.
It seemed hours until she ostensibly exhausted her supply of tears. She no longer felt angry, just drained and weak. Zelda climbed slowly off her magnificent, velvet canopied bed, and crossed the room to the washstand in a corner. The maids had left fresh linen towels there this morning, as well as a pitcher of both cold and warm water. She carefully washed her face, and critically examined herself in the polished glass which lay on a stand nearby. Apart from being slightly bloodshot, her eyes were as normal, as well as the rest of her face.
She carried the glass over to her window seat, and arranged the plush cushions around herself. Lowering the glass to her lap, she exhaled deeply, and then lifted it again to eye level. Examining her reflection, she attempted to view herself impartially, like a stranger. She had never been particularly concerned by appearance, and had been rather infamous amongst her attendants as a child for being completely averted to anything with frills – which, unfortunately, constituted most of the royal wardrobe.
How would this prince find her? She knew she was nice-looking – beautiful, some would say. Her hair was a lovely warm golden, falling in long waves today. Her skin was smooth, with only a smattering of faded freckles across the nose, remnants of a childhood spent primarily out of doors. Elegant brows and long lashes, both gifts from her mother. Eyes – a deep blue, very youthful in appearance. She knew more than one unsuspecting victim of those innocent eyes. Now, she could see the tiny lines framing them, and the last traces of puffiness still lingering from her crying bout.
Zelda lowered the glass with a trembly sigh, and inwardly berated herself. This was not characteristic for her. Mooning over reflections, thinking depressive thoughts. She should not have to resign herself or her freedom so easily!
Even now, in her heart of hearts, a tiny voice told her it was no use. There really was no other way to feed the populace she cared for so deeply. She stared out the window at the river flowing past, heart leaden.
A knock at the door interrupted her reverie. One last glance in the glass shining in her lap confirmed that she was now returned to normal. "Enter", she called, voice clear.
A tall, striking woman entered, iron-grey hair pulled severely back into a knot at the base of her neck. Her simple navy robes adorned only with strange traditional symbols, hung loosely off her frame, disguising a powerful physique. Though a muscular woman, her footsteps were feather light, undetectable to all but the keenest ear. There was a knowing, penetrating look in her gaze as she appraised her charge of the last nineteen years. "You've been crying." She stated without preamble.
Zelda offered her attendant a weak smile, and turned back towards the view of the river. The Sheikah woman known as Impa joined her on the luxurious velvet seat, folding her long frame into a cross-legged position opposite the princess. She calmly templed her hands in front of her face, and regarded Zelda silently for a few moments. Seemingly reaching a conclusion, she lowered them to her lap.
"So, you are aware then."
"Of what?"
"Of the King's plans for you and the princeling of Terabith."
"You knew?" Zelda exclaimed, aghast. Impa tutted dismissively.
"Of course I didn't, you silly child. I was just informed not five minutes hence in an announcement given to the general staff. No one knew." Impa said, with a note of frustration creeping into her normally melodious voice. "It seems then, that the King's plans are final."
Zelda nodded morosely.
"And you are not overjoyed with the prospect, if the tears are an indication." Impa stated. Zelda threw her a reproachful look.
"Do you even have to ask? I thought you knew me better than that." She knew she was speaking like a sulky child, but she was still too miserable and tired to attempt better.
"I do know you better than that. I know that you know the crisis we find ourselves unwilling upon the brink of. I also know that you realise there is no other way to resolve it save a blessing from the Goddesses themselves, and this may be a burden you must force yourself to bear on behalf of Hyrule."
Zelda felt her ire rising again. It was quick to flare recently. "So I take you defend my father's opinion then? I should be bought and sold like common chattel to the highest bidder?" She rose quickly from the seat, hands clenched at her sides. "Well, I won't! I won't throw away my freedom so cheaply! They can't make me!" Zelda all but shouted the last words, her lovely face red with temper. She cursed inwardly as she felt those damnable tears threatening to rise again. "Why do you take his side, Impa? I see now that he only thinks of me as a diplomatic bargaining chip....how he always thought of me." She turned her back to Impa and furiously blinked away a few traitorous beads of water which had welled in the corners of her eyes. "And you too, you feel that a princess is only fit for a profitable marriage, as he does? I – "
"Zelda, stop it. You are working yourself into a state, and that helps no one." Impa raised herself and stood in front of the now shaking young girl. She gently tucked a loose lock of hair back behind her pointed ear, and placed a calming hand on Zelda's forehead. It was an old technique of the Sheikah to placate the ill or spiritually distressed, drawing the injurious thoughts from the mind and giving common sense a chance to triumph.
"Now, " the older woman said in a quietly soothing tone, "You know that I serve the Royal Family, but my first allegiance is to you, dear child. If I had known of this plan, I would have told you, even if I was bade against it. Secondly, I do not approve of the King's machinations unknown to you...but I do feel...that perhaps it is the only way. I know you see this in your mind's eye, Zelda, though your heart grieves."
Eyes closed, Zelda gave a barely perceptible nod.
"But that does not necessarily mean we relinquish hope now, does it?" Zelda's eyes opened slowly, and raised them to meet those of her wizened bodyguard. Impa nodded once, slowly, returning the gaze with equal measure. Zelda leaned forward and was received into the arms of her surrogate mother. Tightly pressed against Impa's hardened muscles, the princess of the Realm allowed herself a small thrill of hope. Perhaps all was not yet lost.