Adventure/ Romance

Rating: T for scenes of explicit violence, gore, and some sexual situations.

Legend of Zelda and all concepts and characters in relation belong to Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto, who I am in no way affiliated with. However, in all other respects this fanfiction is property of myself and myself alone and may be used in no way without my expressed permission

Hello all. It's been forever since I've written fanfiction so please take it easy the first time back, yeah? I can't remember the old pen name I used to use or any of the stories I have on here, but this one, like those, is pretty much my idea for a new game and/ or possibly screenplay. So yeah. Reviews are always welcome along with constructive criticism. Anyway, as always thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 1.

Struggling to keep himself upright his body finally collapsed from strain. His right knee sinking into the sand burned his skin where his white long johns had been cut through. He jerked. Hours of exertion seeped through his muscles and they began to spasm uncontrollably. Something had slowed. The intense pumping from the open wounds on his thighs, upper arms, and back intensified in one climatic, agonizing pulse. Then slowly everything began to fade. His vision, already hindered by the yellow, white sun beaming mercilessly in the sky, blurred. He could no longer feel the presence of his enemy. He could no longer feel his blood cooling his body as it fell down his sides. He could no longer feel anything. He fell to his back as his body went into the first stages of shock. His hearing was muffled. Over the sound of the howling wind and his heavy, exasperated breath he could make out very little. He was paralyzed. His mind raced, begging his swollen, red stained hands to grasp his sword, rise to his feet, and attack. His body was unresponsive. He closed his eyes, waiting. There was little more he could do than accept his fate. As he laid there, sunlight pouring over his unfeeling face he reflected on his journey up to this point. Visions of this morning's crystal blue sky filled his head. It really was a too beautiful a day for a death.

A shadow buzzed in front of him. His eyes opened suddenly, his pupils wide and dilated. Screams filled his ears, the sounds of swords clashing together, explosions, and pain. He felt as though he were rising, but not leaning forward. His body was floating, but his back was still pinned to the ground. Flashes of light, color so bright it was hardly distinguishable from white, burst in waves before him. He looked down and saw his own body before him. Thoughts washed over his head, too many too process. He was excited and scared but too confused to realize the extent of his concern. Something turned. The shadow before him came into focus. Blue eyes appeared where darkness had been, blonde hair flung around her shoulders as she looked back on him. This was not his foe. Her eyes locked into his immediately and he felt an incredible force slam him back to the ground, the impact filling his unmoving eyes with tears. Whispering. A woman's voice, faint but steady was filling his ears with hushed intensity. Everything started to tingle. His fingers twitched, his eyelids fluttered. Energy flushed through his body. He felt heavy, his stomach uneasy. His organs felt shaken but somehow settled. He hunched forward, his body burning but no longer drained.

He looked up. The mysterious woman in front of him held her gaze, freezing him in his tracks. Another image was forming behind her. Its darkness took shape: Wrinkled hands of pale blue, the eyes, orange, glowing with hatred. A smug, horrifying grin on its demonic face, it raised its sword above her head, she still facing him fervently chanting. Completely unaware of the monster behind her, he stared at her anxiously. His body quivered trying to move, but control over his body had left him. He wriggled in his position, trying with all his might to warn the unknown woman, but in an instant her gaze had changed. Her eyes fogged with silverish white, her leer more intense than ever. The hellion behind her brought its sword down hard. She turned raising her hands, a blast of light and sound erupting around her. It was an explosion, bursting in every direction. Wind rushed outward, blowing him backward, the tremors of the impact throwing his body in the air. He landed hard, the burning sand flying all around him. His back arched in pain. He screamed and opened his eyes. Darkness. Nothing but darkness.

"You're incredibly stupid, you know that don't you?" Her voice, annoyed, trailed into his ears as he slowly regained consciousness. Her accent made her a little difficult to understand, at least this early in the day, anyway. But it was nothing compared to her actions. What could he have possibly done to agitate her so? He lie quietly, afraid anything he might say would only upset her further.

She fluttered around the kitchen of the tiny hut, a small wooden bowl in one hand, a ragged piece of cloth in the other.

"You could have been killed. You nearly were! What were you planning to do? Hmm?"

His bright blue eyes still half asleep wandered toward her as she slowly came more into focus. She stared at him, pausing for a moment, a displeased expression on her face, tapping one foot on the ground while rhythmically dunking the cloth in the small wooden bowl filled with water.

"Nothing?! Oh great. That's just great. The one who's going to save us all is marching over to the demon queen responsible for enslaving half a nation with no . . . no..no . . . no battling tactics, no enchanted gadgetry, no SHIELD!! No nothing! NOTHING! Oh this is just great." Her high pitched voice filled the small bungalow, nearly rattling the hay from the roof with each shrill of angered disappointment.

He sat unmoving. Even to someone as undaunted as he she was intimidating.

"Here!" She said, furiously slapping the icy cold rag onto his forehead. "Maybe this will help clear your head. Don't bother thanking me. For, you know saving you, or taking care of you, or you know anything of the like!!"

He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face in an attempt to fully awaken himself.

"I apologize." His eyes moved to hers. She stared back at him, her mood seeming to have cooled slightly, though she had still to give a forgiving or even tolerant expression. "I'm aware my actions were impulsive and negligent to the situation at hand." She looked calm but unimpressed.

"Accepted." She said quickly. "Well, I suppose I must, mustn't I? What good would it do to be resentful about it now? What's done is done. Here, I mended them for you." She tossed his green tunic and white woolens onto the corner of the bed. The stitching was magnificent. The patching so tiny, only an accomplished seamstress could display such skill.

"Thank you." He said, humbly.

"Yes, but if you ever do anything that stupid again I'll have a right mind to backhand you myself! Honestly! Were you thinking of anyone but yourself?" She sighed. "Forget it. Its fine. I'm fine."

They waited in silence for a few moments before she turned and busied herself with the small cauldronesque crock she'd placed above the open fire hearth.

"My horse," he said, sitting up and shifting his feet toward the ground, pulling his white undershirt over his chest. He'd hardly noticed his wounds had completely healed over. "Have you seen . . ."

"Its in the small stable outside. I took the liberty of giving it a thorough brushing." "Apparently they don't have the tools to do that were you come from." She replied beneath her breath.

"Again, I thank yo . ."

"Don't bother." She said, interrupting again. "If you're going to thank me every time I do you a favor or cover one of your mistakes, I've a feeling its all you'll be saying." She had yet to look up from what she was doing. She grabbed the handle of the cauldron, brought it to the center of the table, and in an instant took the small wooden bowl from earlier, emptied the remaining water onto the hearth with a fling, took a large wooden spoon and filled it with the oatmeal she had just prepared. "Here. Good morrow." She said, unenthusiastically, letting the bowl fall to the table, some of the oatmeal plopping over the sides on impact.

"Look, I apologize. I think we started out on the wrong foot. Can we start again? I'm . ."

"I know who you are." Again, interrupting. It was obvious she was not in the mood to make amends, yet. "You're the nameless warrior from Ikana, or wherever. The legendary unavowed soldier of virtue here to rescue us from certain apocalypse. The unwavering champion with no name, no family, no history. Yes I know the mythos quite well. But I'm sure I'm quite skeptical after that handsome display yesterday, thank you very much. So before you go spouting off to me Hero, that's what they're calling you, isn't then?" She didn't wait for a response. "And expecting me to bow down, shut up, and move out of your way so you can go trollipping off to get yourself killed again AND if the legends are true, completely destroy ANY chance for our world to survive, you remind yourself exactly WHO it was yesterday saving WHO!"

He paused, stunned, barely able to blink. He wanted to say something but his voice felt caught in his throat. He swallowed, shook his head, and said. "Mam, please. A chance to speak? I wasn't expecting any sort of response or immediate display of respect from you, and I certainly wouldn't begin to try and downplay your heroic deeds of yesterday. I just wanted to introduce myself, and get the same in return. That way I'd at least have a way of actually thanking my rescuer." He waited a moment, caught her eyes and gave a small smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Me?" She said with a small laugh. "Oh Goddesses you really are from nowhere aren't you?"

He didn't reply.

"I'm Zelda, former Princess of Hyrule."

To Be Continued