Deep breaths, she ordered herself.
The steps were long and arduous. She didn't know if she was sick or just nervous, but every time her feet moved even a little bit her stomach churned more and more.
Hundreds of eyes were glued upon her. If she could have, she would have stared straight at the ground; goddesses knew how much she wanted to avoid everyone's gazes. A century ago, she had been forced to learn how to become acquainted with public scrutiny, but now...
Pay them no mind, her father's voice echoed in her mind. They do not matter. You are far more important than they.
But father, was her reply, they are no less human than you or I. Surely they—
Silence, Zelda. You do not exist to please them. You exist to rule them. They do not matter.
The pure cynicism in her father's words confused her, even a hundred years later. No matter how many times she reminded herself that he was just as scared as she at the time, she still found it hard to believe that he became so cold, so coarse.
I do what I must, my daughter, he had once said, when she was just a little girl. Hyrule is my responsibility. I do what I know is best for it, and for you.
She had not understood his words until now. At one time she had blindly accepted his word as fact; at another she had angrily dismissed his word as folly. Now, however, the responsibility of ruling Hyrule fell to her. She was being thrust into the very position she had been apprehensive about from the moment she was able to understand exactly what being the daughter of a king meant.
She now had a new role to play. One that would be placed upon her—both literally and symbolically—in a few short moments. Battling Calamity Ganon would likely be the only thing anybody would remember her for when she died, but until then she was still the heir to the Hyrulean throne.
As she approached the throne, she tried to keep her gaze level and her breath steady. No amount of training could have prepared her for this. To say she dreaded this moment would have been an understatement. There was a small part of her that honestly wished Ganon hadn't yet been defeated, so that she could do something, anything, but this.
She had never wanted to be a ruler.
Zelda. Her father would scold her when she told him this. You cannot escape your fate. This is your destiny.
I cannot, Father! she would cry. I don't know how I'll manage when you're gone!
Then be glad for Hyrule's sake that I am still here!
He would yell at her, then storm off and keep to himself for hours on end. On particularly bad days he wouldn't even eat; he would just lock himself in his bedroom and refuse to see anyone at all.
She believed that he loved her, that he tried to do the best he could for her. After all, he spent much of his life racing against a prophecy that few people even believed would ever come to pass. He was labeled a fool. He had so much to be upset about, and Zelda's personal ineptitude certainly never made things any easier for him.
She only wished that he could have considered how she felt in all of it.
She was in front of the throne now. An attendant holding a lush red pillow stood in front of her, and on that pillow lay the one object to seal her doom: a twisted band of gold and silver with a sparkling ruby imbedded in the center.
The tiara was lovely, and were it going to anyone else Zelda would have been able to appreciate its beauty. But for her, much like the Master Sword had been a hundred years ago, it was a reminder of her own inability to become what everybody needed her to be.
As she bowed her head she realized how much the whole ordeal felt less like a coronation and more like an execution. She felt nothing but regret as the circlet was lowered onto her skull, and she felt nothing but shame as the hundreds of people in the crowd erupted in applause.
She could not bring herself to look at them. They were her people, and she already knew that she was going to let them down.
You are a disgrace to the Royal Family, Zelda. She wasn't sure if the voice was hers or her father's. Your emotions, your fears, your dreams… They cloud your judgment. You will never be good enough for the kingdom.
She fought the tears in her eyes as she struggled to save face in front of the people. They couldn't see her break down. That was a sign of weakness.
But she wasn't strong. She never had been.
What was she, other than a failure? All of her life, somebody else had surpassed her in everything she attempted. Every victory she experienced was never her own doing; rather, someone had helped her get there in one way or another.
You will never be anything to anybody.
She swallowed hard and turned around. Only a few more moments of this and then–
A lone royal guard knelt in front of her, his head bowed reverently. His beret did little to conceal his sandy-blond hair tied back in a ponytail, and a blue winged sword was strapped to his side. He was deadly still, and Zelda almost wondered if he was even alive.
"Rise, sir knight," she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. The knight rose and looked up at her. Though his expression was blank, she found an odd sense of reassurance in his gaze.
The knight offered her a gloved hand, and she took it gently. He slowly led her to the throne, nodded, and backed away.
Don't be afraid, his eyes seemed to say. You're doing just fine.
With a deep breath, Zelda wrapped her fingers tightly around the armrests of the throne. She supported her weight with her arms and gently lowered herself onto its seat.
The crowd was silent, all waiting with a sense of anticipation that permeated throughout the whole room.
They wait for you to make a fool of yourself, said the voice of her father.
They wait for you to lead them, said the voice of the knight.
Zelda turned to the knight and gave him a quick nod. He cleared his throat and raised his voice.
"All hail Her Majesty, Queen Zelda Nohansen Hyrule!"
A cheer ripped through the Sanctum, and for the first time all day Zelda couldn't help but smile. She felt the guard's hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She met his gaze, and he grinned at her.
He said nothing to her, but she heard his message all the same. I'm here for you.
Later that evening, standing in the ruins of the Sacred Grounds, away from the prying eyes of the masses, Zelda poured her fears, her worries, her insecurities, her doubts, out to him. She spoke through tears of the pressures of being queen, her own worries about the kingdom, and memories of her father's disapproval.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him, so that his chin rested atop her head. His gentle fingers ran through her hair and he whispered to her that she was beautiful, and that he believed in her, and that everything was going to be just fine as long as she was queen.
"You can't make that promise," she sniffled.
"I don't have to," he said with a smile. He put his lips to hers and kissed her.
Zelda felt safe in his arms, as if the entire world could be falling apart and she wouldn't notice as long as he held her. After all, he had traveled across all of Hyrule to save her, without even knowing who she was, what they were, risking his life again and again, facing impossible odds over and over, and never once letting any of that stop him.
She nestled her face against his chest. In his embrace, her insecurities melted away and she could truly be herself. He was the one thing that could keep her grounded and remind her of who she really was. So many voices told her she was so many things. Maybe she was weak. Maybe she was naïve. Maybe she was inexperienced.
But one thing was sure to her: she was his.
"I love you," she said.
He kissed the top of her head. "You are everything to me," he replied.
Hope you enjoyed this little fluff piece. I wanted to capture Zelda's feelings of insecurity in a Post-game context and how it would impact her relationship with our favorite silent hero. Please take the time to review, and thank you for reading!
