Summary: Hyrule's on the brink of war. Multi-part story of how Link and Zelda's romantic relationship develops at the beginning.
Warnings: Rated T+ for implied adult situations and pent-up sexual frustration. Future chapters will earn a rating of M (at around Chapter 10). Please note that the action will be a little slow at first, as I like to take time to lay a foundation.
Disclaimers: I don't own Link, Zelda, King Harkinian, Hyrule, Calatia, or the North Palace. I am, however, the creator of this story, and any characters or nations not named above are definitely my own.
Timeline: One-and-a-half years after "Zelda II: The Adventure of Link"/just under three years after the original "Legend of Zelda". Princess Zelda has recently been crowned Queen, and has asked Link to come back to the North Palace, initially to teach, when certain complications arise. Ganon is still dead, but all is not well.
A/N: This is a prequel to my other two fanfics, "Wordplay" and "A Family Reunion". They're all stand-alone stories, though, so you don't have to read one to understand the other. Reviews are awesome! Flames don't faze me: I write for my own sick pleasure.
"Developments"
Chapter 1: Declaration of Intent
Hyrule is on the brink of war -- again. It isn't exactly a rare event -- Hyrule's history is riddled with strife: the last major war just 20-some years prior, and then the invading armies of Ganon only three years ago. Now, the Ishandi nations have begun to gather soldiers along the western border of Hyrule's northern continent. They haven't breached Hyrule's borders, yet, but diplomatic lines are ominously quiet. It's unnerving, but nothing new. In fact, it's only the possibility of a minor scuffle, by Hylian historical standards. This incident, however, is special because, this time, Zelda, of House Harkinian, is the recently-crowned Queen of Hyrule, which makes her position especially unstable.
The new Queen's leadership is on trial, and, unless handled correctly, this situation may cast decades' worth of shadow over her barely-begun reign. She has to be firm, focused, and decisive. She can't afford any distractions. Which is quite unfortunate because, now that military action is eminent, the biggest distraction on her mind as of the last three years is precisely the one person that she will be spending the most time with: Link. Sir Link: local hero, Slayer of Ganon, Wielder of the Triforce of Courage, primarily responsible for the training of all active members of the Hylian Knights and recruitment of temporary militia, as well as the man most familiar with Hyrule's many terrains and potential hazards, thus making him indispensable to military strategy. And, of course, he just had to be the most stunningly handsome man she had ever met, and her most cherished friend, and all-around nice-guy. That Link. With whom she is having a consultation right now, maps laid out over the large planning table of the impromptu War Room.
Of course, he has no clue she feels this way, and is oblivious to the effect his mere presence has on her -- if he weren't clueless, maybe he wouldn't be wearing his form-fitting Knight's uniform -- the short-tunic variation used in training exercises, since he has just finished with his early-morning students. And he probably wouldn't be bent-over, next to her, reaching far across the aforementioned table in front of them to… what? Was he pointing, just now, or reaching for something? 'Um…' Something about the mountains? … 'Damn!' She's completely missed whatever he'd been saying: she was too busy noticing how his rather-snug leather breeches are currently molding themselves to his muscular thighs and derriere. 'DAMMIT, WOMAN! CONCENTRATE!' she mentally berates herself. 'You're a QUEEN, not a lust-driven teenager! Plus, we're discussing WAR, you nitwit!' She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, immensely relieved (though a little bit disappointed) to find that Sir Link has returned to a fully-upright position by the time her eyes reopen.
'It's okay. I can handle this. I'll just keep reminding myself that people are counting on me, and his input is valuable, and to LISTEN when he speaks, instead of staring at his mouth; and see WHAT he points out on the map, instead of focusing on those big, strong hands; and to NOT undress him with my eyes, or think about tackling him onto that table right now and... NO! No, BAD ruler!… Deep breath… I can do this. Easy, right?' By forcing herself to not look directly at him, she makes it through the remainder of the meeting much more smoothly, allowing her to focus on the questions that need discussing. However, the information she receives only serves to stress the urgency of each decision made, and point out how many questions there still are. She is mentally drained by the time the meeting's over.
"You Highness?" a soft-spoken tenor intrudes upon her thoughts. Zelda blinks herself back to awareness, realizing he is standing right beside her, concern etched on his expressive face. She must have zoned out.
Embarrassed, she quickly changes the subject by gently reprimanding, "Don't call me that."
"Um, excuse me?" he asks, looking rather lost. She smiles bemusedly.
"Don't call me 'Highness'. The consult is over, there's no one else here, and we've known each other too long to be so formal when it's just us, Link."
He smiles warmly, green eyes bright, "Sorry, eh… Zelda. But, are you alright? Partway through the meeting, you stopped making eye contact, and just now you seemed lost in thought."
'Ah, so he noticed my refusal to look at him.' She forcibly relaxes her posture and flippantly answers with a half-truth. "I'm fine. A bit stressed, but that's only to be expected." Not giving him a chance to press on, she switches the topic again, "I'm curious, though: why have you been so polite, this past year?" (he curiously cocks his head to the side), "It feels as if one day you were sassing and teasing me, as usual, and I couldn't get you to address me properly," (he smiles wryly), "and the next day, it was, 'Yes, Highness', and, 'As you wish, Your Majesty.'" Granted, it had been more than two years since he'd mouthed-off, outright, but she'd grown used to him being casual around her, and it was sometimes hard to reconcile this quiet, courteous young man with the loud, brash, unpolished boy she'd come to know, "Not that I'm completely opposed to the change, but what happened? Did someone up and swap heroes on me?"
He laughs quietly, then soberly explains, "I suppose… well, this whole thing's been getting to me, too. Not just the military stuff, but the whole living-in-the-castle-again and being 'Sir Link' scenario, too. Everyone's just been so formal around me since I was Knighted! And since this situation with the Ishandi army, it's even more tense around here," he sighs tiredly, his shoulders drooping under an invisible weight. "There's so much to do, and because of Ganon and the Triforce, everyone around here seems to look at me as if they just want me to make the problem go away… I feel like there's this big expectation I have to meet now, and I don't wanna let anyone down, but I'm kinda playing it by ear, so…" he shrugs and exhales. Zelda is temporarily stunned -- with this innocent acknowledgement, he's hit the nail on the head -- for both of them. "I've been overcompensating, I think. Sorry if I've seemed cold or distant." He smiles again, this time a mix of apology and self-deprecation. He quickly shakes himself back together, though. "I shouldn't whine; if this is what it's like for me, I can't imagine the pressures you must be under. Forgive me, my Queen?" Leave it to Link to dismiss his own problems and worry about someone else. There's that tender smile, again. She can't help but reciprocate with one of her own.
On the outside, she merely nods and smiles in acceptance of his apology. Inside, her heart melts, knowing that at least one person-- the one who counts the most-- understands what she's going through.
Holding out a steadying arm, he asks, "Tired? Would you like me to escort you back?" She gratefully accepts, and allows him to lead her towards her tower entrance. She tries to suppress a blush at the proximity of their bodies. And although she doesn't realize it, he does, too.
--
Morning, the next day. Link runs through the usual warm-up exercises with his mid-level knights-in-training. Some of the more experienced knights have decided to join him, this morning. It's not a bad idea: if Hyrule does go to war, even the veterans will want to make sure they're prepared.
Today's is an exam session: he will make each rookie run through specific stances, then make them spar in groups of two, then three, to determine what skill level each trainee is at, which techniques need polishing, and who is ready to move on to the advanced class. It will be a long morning.
About quarter-way through the third round of testing, a messenger interrupts, claiming the Queen has requested Sir Link's immediate attendance. Motioning one of the veterans to step in and resume grading in his stead, Link grabs his tunic and follows the messenger to the castle's West Wing, a faint anxious scowl hardening his still-boyish features.
The messenger stops outside the door of the War Room and motions Link inside, the guards parting to let him through. He absentmindedly adjusts his uniform before stepping in, wishing he'd had time to change into more formal garb. He has a bad feeling about this…
His anxiety proves founded, as he finds himself amongst military leaders, strategists, cartographers, couriers, and politicians. Even the now-retired King is present. His fears are momentarily set aside, however, as his inventory of the room finally settles at its epicenter: among the crowd stands Zelda, regal and proud. Her long, golden hair is neatly tied back with plum-colored velvet ribbons and ornate silver combs, revealing her graceful column of neck. A modest circlet rests above her brow, below the hairline. Her sleeveless, lavender riding dress gracefully flares out at the hips to form wide ankle-length pants, a high-necked plum bodice with gold and silver embroidery complementing the reverse colors in her hair. A short, velvet riding cape in a deeper shade of plum modestly covers her bare shoulders. The only adornments on her slender, yet powerful arms are multiple gold and silver bangles at the delicate wrists. She is the embodiment of feminine strength and beauty.
Link's sharp inhale hitches in his chest, and he momentarily forgets how to breathe. This reaction, he's familiar with: it seems she makes him stop breathing at least once a week -- anytime he catches sight of her neck, or arms, or the slightest hint of a swell of breast, or the fabric of whatever she's wearing drapes just-so over a curvy hip or thigh. He's a sucker for her -- always has been -- and over the years, he's come to terms with it. The slight hint of a frown and the tense set of the brows on her delicate face, however, makes his heart wrench. Zelda's upset. Which makes Link upset. Which means someone's getting hurt, once he figures out who earned it. The answer's not long in coming.
Seeing him at the doorway, Zelda visibly relaxes, and even smiles slightly. Then she motions for everyone to settle down, since all necessary personnel are now gathered. "This morning, at 0-400 hours, a courier arrived, bearing news from the north-western front. The Ishandi have begun moving troops over the mountain, and are officially inside Hyrule's boundaries. Ladies and gentlemen, given their continued diplomatic silence, and their previous aggression toward our allies, it is my judgment that we consider this trespass an official declaration of war." A few of the gathered issue quiet gasps, but most of the room's occupants already foresaw this, and an expectant silence fills the room. Zelda continues, "I have already discussed various plans of action with several of those in this room, and it is my further judgment that we begin moving troops of our own toward our north-western lines, as well as contact our Calatian allies to reinforce their borders and have heralds at the ready, lest the Ishandi once again attempt to come into Hyrule by invading Calatia, as occurred 22-years ago." A murmur of assent rumbles through the crowd. "We should also make arrangements in case Ruto or Saria Town need to be evacuated; there are mountain passes near both of them." More muted rumbling. The cartographers take this cue to set out the appropriate maps on the table and prepare to make notations. The generals and strategists gather around the Queen and around Link, demanding questions as to which routes to be taken for moving soldiers and evacuating citizens, the supplies and preparations needed, and where to place troops. The statesmen circle the new Queen and former King, debating on the nuances of making the declaration of war official, and how and when to best break the news to the rest of the kingdom. The couriers stand in the back, awaiting their orders.
Link was wrong: it wasn't going to be a long morning; it was going to be a long day. Followed, most likely, by several long days. And sleepless nights. A lot of sleepless nights. 'Aw, pig-spit!'