Within the cascading spires of Hyrule Castle, a blonde man walked the gardens, watching every move made by everyone that entered and exited the castle. In a room filled with rich tapestries and smooth, silk gowns was a lone princess, of golden hair and bright, shimmery pools for eyes. Her rose-tinted lips hummed a sweet melody liken to those of long since ago. Her voice was that of a mockingbird and the beauty that was hers surrounded the castle and gave it warmth against its cold stone blocks.
The man continued to serve the castle its rightful surrveilance until nightfall, when his shift was over and he headed back to his quarters. Every night, he would slip away to her window. He would hum the same melody she did as she combed her perfumed locks. He would wait at her window, in a strange costume (as to hide his real appearance) and sing a soft melody one would to a fond lover.
The princess would appear at her balcony and sing along with her costumed admirer. Midnight would tick away, and the princess would leave, sending her blessing of kisses to the costumed man. Every night the man would recieve them and bid his love farewell until they met again the next night.
One night, this changed. The man wanted to surprise the princess and reveal his identity. He bought the sweetest bottle of perfume and a bouqet of flowers from the flowergirl down the road. He clambered into his costume, a rough version of a green tunic, brown stockings, brown boots, starchy white shirt and a black mask to hide his real face. He gathered his packages for the princess and escorted himself to her window by way of the garden, a place he had traveled before.
The princess was combing her hair, a ritual that was begun long befre she could do it herself. When her mother, the queen passed away during birth, she asked her father, King Harkinian to keep her innocent. Let her find her own paths and make her own choices and not become overbearing to her. He had promised, but lately, he had kept her inside more. He yearned for the vast blue sky over the castle, but she also wanted to secretly run away for a while. She felt her hair becoming softer and smoother and knew it was time to ready for bed. She also thought of her admirer. Her nanny and mother figure, Impa, had seen then man once or twice and was sworn to her highness not to tell her father nor a single soul. Impa promised, but she also remembered her promise to the king to keep nighting from him, so it was very hard for her to do that. This night, Impa had gone to bed early and left the princess to behold her lovely singing man.
He arrived at the same time every night, according to the distance of the moon. The princess looked out and saw him stacking boxed upon one-another. She grew tense, but thought nothing of it. He was harmless. He had never once mentioned her in a rude way, nor made any advances toward her. She had had men fawning over her before, wen she visted other kingdoms and countries with her father, but never like this one. He kept up every night and even climbed on the rooftop one night. She giggled, and that's when Impa saw him for the first time.
He climbed to the top of the boxes and pulled that ladder he had made up from the side of the boxes. He took it and leaned it perpendicular to her balcony. He started his climb when the princess ran out to her balcony and whimpered a bit.
"Tis alright, my fair angel. I have come again on this most blessful night to give unto thee a gift."
taken aback by his new comment, she said, "And what is it, handsome admirer?"
"A token of my heart to your precious locks of sunlight and porcelain skin."
She smiled an backed away as he began the ascent to her spire. It was nearly ten before he was flat-footed on her stone balcony.
"My love, do you have but a glass of water that I may trouble you for, I ask only that and to be in your radiant presence."
She giggled and fetched him a glass and a pitcher of water. She returned just as fast and gave him a smile as he greedily drank from the glass. He suddenly seemed to remember her presence and sipped slowly. When he finished, she clasped his glass and the pticher and walked back in. He stood up and dusted off his tunic and stockings as he prepared for what he was about to do. He just wanted to hold her, to kiss her. But he knew that as soon as he revealed his true self, she would gasp at his common face and and common job and return to other fanciful things. But there was, on the slim chance, that Nayru, goddess of love and wisdom would smile upon his humble efforts and grant his heart's desire.
She returned again, this time with her hands cupped in front of her, as if the object in her hands would fall and shatter, and stood in front of him. He looked into her pale blue eyes, and instantly felt warm and complete in her eyes. He was equal to her in those pale sky eyes. He started to speak.
"My dearest sunjoy, my sweet mockingbird in the stone cage, I have brought from the savage Gerudo a bottle of rare jasmine and hyacinth and a bundle of the most perfect roses for the most perfect woman."
She shed a tear at his thoughtful gesture, and placed the long-handled bottle of perfume on the ground. She grasped the roses and let her nose wander around the edges of its excellence. She laid this down and spoke to the costumed admirer.
"My dear sir and fond friend, I give you this. For I, too, am bestowing a gift unto you from me."
He left her delicate fingers lay a silver chain in his palms. She smiled and pronounced, "It is the gift given to a woman when she is treuly in love with a man. A pure silver chain to protect from witches and warlocks of the land. A woman must deeply care for a man to give him such a gift."
He, in all of his years of keeping her safe and sure, shed a tear. His mask hid it htough, as to not make him appear weak and unsure of himself.
He leaned in to her, and the clock from inside the castle tolled eleven-thirty.
"It is almost midnight, and I must retire for the night. Good evening."
"Wait!"
He grabbed her arm, not too rough, and swung her into his arms.
"He that keeps such beauty locked up must have a fond one set it free."
Her eyes sparkled in the dark sky, giving her an even more magical look to her unblemised beauty.
"Why are you holding me so tight? We don't even know each other! It would be a sin to be with a man before being consecrated by the goddesses."
"Let them do so now, I must reveal my my true me before I run at the stroke of midnight."
He let her go and began to shed his mask, slowly unhooking the fastened cord around his head. At long last, his desguise was gone and the princess was speechless. He rounded lips formed an 'o', and he knew it. She didn't like his true self. He had to run.
He quickly turned to run down the ladder and looked back to find those pale eyes looking back at him. Those beautiful blue and hateful eyes. No longer the innocence that formed them was. It was gone and he would be soon, too.
She stood there, gasping for air. His face trapped her into thinking he was the one for her. Her eyes decieved her. He was just a common guard from the castle. A no one. A meaningful man with a no real purpose in life but to be beckoned by her father. Someone whom she could never be seen with.
"Curse mine eyes!" she cried lowly, wishing more than ever to be someone else. Their love couldn't be. He quickly and without a word unstacked the boxes and ran to his quarters.
For the rest of the years and into her queenship, he longed for her, but dared not speak to her again. He set his heart cold against her eyes when she passed by. She would look to him, lovingly, but would quickly turn to her husband, the new king. Someone with importance and hiearchy. Someone not like him.
The man continued to serve the castle its rightful surrveilance until nightfall, when his shift was over and he headed back to his quarters. Every night, he would slip away to her window. He would hum the same melody she did as she combed her perfumed locks. He would wait at her window, in a strange costume (as to hide his real appearance) and sing a soft melody one would to a fond lover.
The princess would appear at her balcony and sing along with her costumed admirer. Midnight would tick away, and the princess would leave, sending her blessing of kisses to the costumed man. Every night the man would recieve them and bid his love farewell until they met again the next night.
One night, this changed. The man wanted to surprise the princess and reveal his identity. He bought the sweetest bottle of perfume and a bouqet of flowers from the flowergirl down the road. He clambered into his costume, a rough version of a green tunic, brown stockings, brown boots, starchy white shirt and a black mask to hide his real face. He gathered his packages for the princess and escorted himself to her window by way of the garden, a place he had traveled before.
The princess was combing her hair, a ritual that was begun long befre she could do it herself. When her mother, the queen passed away during birth, she asked her father, King Harkinian to keep her innocent. Let her find her own paths and make her own choices and not become overbearing to her. He had promised, but lately, he had kept her inside more. He yearned for the vast blue sky over the castle, but she also wanted to secretly run away for a while. She felt her hair becoming softer and smoother and knew it was time to ready for bed. She also thought of her admirer. Her nanny and mother figure, Impa, had seen then man once or twice and was sworn to her highness not to tell her father nor a single soul. Impa promised, but she also remembered her promise to the king to keep nighting from him, so it was very hard for her to do that. This night, Impa had gone to bed early and left the princess to behold her lovely singing man.
He arrived at the same time every night, according to the distance of the moon. The princess looked out and saw him stacking boxed upon one-another. She grew tense, but thought nothing of it. He was harmless. He had never once mentioned her in a rude way, nor made any advances toward her. She had had men fawning over her before, wen she visted other kingdoms and countries with her father, but never like this one. He kept up every night and even climbed on the rooftop one night. She giggled, and that's when Impa saw him for the first time.
He climbed to the top of the boxes and pulled that ladder he had made up from the side of the boxes. He took it and leaned it perpendicular to her balcony. He started his climb when the princess ran out to her balcony and whimpered a bit.
"Tis alright, my fair angel. I have come again on this most blessful night to give unto thee a gift."
taken aback by his new comment, she said, "And what is it, handsome admirer?"
"A token of my heart to your precious locks of sunlight and porcelain skin."
She smiled an backed away as he began the ascent to her spire. It was nearly ten before he was flat-footed on her stone balcony.
"My love, do you have but a glass of water that I may trouble you for, I ask only that and to be in your radiant presence."
She giggled and fetched him a glass and a pitcher of water. She returned just as fast and gave him a smile as he greedily drank from the glass. He suddenly seemed to remember her presence and sipped slowly. When he finished, she clasped his glass and the pticher and walked back in. He stood up and dusted off his tunic and stockings as he prepared for what he was about to do. He just wanted to hold her, to kiss her. But he knew that as soon as he revealed his true self, she would gasp at his common face and and common job and return to other fanciful things. But there was, on the slim chance, that Nayru, goddess of love and wisdom would smile upon his humble efforts and grant his heart's desire.
She returned again, this time with her hands cupped in front of her, as if the object in her hands would fall and shatter, and stood in front of him. He looked into her pale blue eyes, and instantly felt warm and complete in her eyes. He was equal to her in those pale sky eyes. He started to speak.
"My dearest sunjoy, my sweet mockingbird in the stone cage, I have brought from the savage Gerudo a bottle of rare jasmine and hyacinth and a bundle of the most perfect roses for the most perfect woman."
She shed a tear at his thoughtful gesture, and placed the long-handled bottle of perfume on the ground. She grasped the roses and let her nose wander around the edges of its excellence. She laid this down and spoke to the costumed admirer.
"My dear sir and fond friend, I give you this. For I, too, am bestowing a gift unto you from me."
He left her delicate fingers lay a silver chain in his palms. She smiled and pronounced, "It is the gift given to a woman when she is treuly in love with a man. A pure silver chain to protect from witches and warlocks of the land. A woman must deeply care for a man to give him such a gift."
He, in all of his years of keeping her safe and sure, shed a tear. His mask hid it htough, as to not make him appear weak and unsure of himself.
He leaned in to her, and the clock from inside the castle tolled eleven-thirty.
"It is almost midnight, and I must retire for the night. Good evening."
"Wait!"
He grabbed her arm, not too rough, and swung her into his arms.
"He that keeps such beauty locked up must have a fond one set it free."
Her eyes sparkled in the dark sky, giving her an even more magical look to her unblemised beauty.
"Why are you holding me so tight? We don't even know each other! It would be a sin to be with a man before being consecrated by the goddesses."
"Let them do so now, I must reveal my my true me before I run at the stroke of midnight."
He let her go and began to shed his mask, slowly unhooking the fastened cord around his head. At long last, his desguise was gone and the princess was speechless. He rounded lips formed an 'o', and he knew it. She didn't like his true self. He had to run.
He quickly turned to run down the ladder and looked back to find those pale eyes looking back at him. Those beautiful blue and hateful eyes. No longer the innocence that formed them was. It was gone and he would be soon, too.
She stood there, gasping for air. His face trapped her into thinking he was the one for her. Her eyes decieved her. He was just a common guard from the castle. A no one. A meaningful man with a no real purpose in life but to be beckoned by her father. Someone whom she could never be seen with.
"Curse mine eyes!" she cried lowly, wishing more than ever to be someone else. Their love couldn't be. He quickly and without a word unstacked the boxes and ran to his quarters.
For the rest of the years and into her queenship, he longed for her, but dared not speak to her again. He set his heart cold against her eyes when she passed by. She would look to him, lovingly, but would quickly turn to her husband, the new king. Someone with importance and hiearchy. Someone not like him.