Hello! This is my first publication on this site, and I am very excited to present you all with the first chapter of Stuck! This is an AU story, and there will be an array of familiar characters pulled from many of the amazing games of the Zelda franchise. There are no OCs.
Please enjoy!
Chapter One
Tic-Tac-Toe
Zelda Harkinian could hardly believe her eyes.
In reality, not a single occurrence such as this had ever happened to her before—at least, not anything quite like it. She was rarely ever shocked, or surprised, or taken aback by any situation that should have resulted in the sort. At all times, she managed to retain a cool and collected countenance, no matter the circumstances.
However, one could say that this was a rather special occasion.
On the morning of her official public debut as a "normal high school girl"—Malon always did have a flare for the disgustingly cliche—Zelda was appalled to find so many of the paparazzi already lined up at the main entrance of Castleton High. It wasn't even seven yet, and still, the damned gossip snobs managed to arrive in hoards just so they could get the story first. She felt her nose habitually wrinkle in appropriate distaste.
It wasn't like she wasn't expecting it—the media photographers were always a nagging constant in her life; like an infestation of ants she could never truly seem to remedy. The fact that so many of the media labels and magazine heads had caught wind of her so-called "necessary return to normalcy" so soon had strangely struck a nerve with her. All she could do was stare dumbfound at the flashing bulbs that went off like bombs as soon as she had emerged from the backseat of her car.
Her entire body was shaking with a distinct mixture of angst and rage. Crescent-shaped markings embedded into the palm of her hand as her clenched fists tensed tighter and tighter.
A familiar hand propped itself on her shoulder. "Ease up just a tad," Impa Shades warned under her breath. "They'll eat you alive if you snap now."
Zelda inhaled sharply, refusing to release her tensions. She realized that Impa was not referring to the paparazzi flies anymore—a number of uniformed students had decided to intermingle with them, their obnoxious blue and green uniforms failing to blend in with the black attire of the photographers and journalists. Young, gossip-hungry eyes examined her up and down, eager to either get to know her or dish out whatever headline the paparazzi was already creating in their heads.
She could see it all now: "Princess Zelda Honoria Alexandria Harkinian the VI — Future Leader or Future Asylum Patient?!" That headline, of course, was a possibility if she decided to act upon her bubbling anger in a manner that was most unbecoming of a princess and most flattering on a promising psychopath.
Still, despite her internal emotions, she managed to keep a gentle, kind upfront—something she had learned to master after years of media harassment. She drew a deep breath, and relaxed her fists, folding them lightly in front of her skirt. "Don't worry, Impa. I'm completely fine," she managed through a perfect smile. She'd perfected the regality a princess was required of years ago—using it in a public school setting should be of the same effect as if it were yet another diplomatic affair, which in its own way it was.
Impa shot her a quick look of concern before reverting to her stoney expression. Without a word, her caretaker handed her the dark leather satchel, filled with textbooks and notecards, and encouragingly tapped her on the small of her back as a signal that it was safe to proceed.
Zelda sighed. Adjusting the satchel onto her shoulder, she strode towards her focused goal point: the front doors. Flashes and exclamations of pressuring questions and interrogations were thrown at her left and right as she hurriedly made her way to her much needed reprieve.
Except she was rewarded with more gaping stares and ear piercing screams of hysteria.
Upon entering the main building, a mass of students gathered in the lobby to greet her—whether it was formal or informal, she could not differentiate. Many were lined up almost identical to the way the paparazzi were just outside, while others managed to keep up a normal schedule and sporadically break away from the majority.
Zelda had to refrain from slapping her palm to her forehead. With the smile still plastered on her lips, she began to move once more. It startled her when her eyes caught a small trio of faculty members waiting for her at the end of the walkway. (At this point, it already felt like she had been walking on some kind of red carpet reserved specifically for her. Needless to say, it was very annoying.) Only twenty minutes in, and I'm drowning in a cesspool of unbearable insanity.
Surpassing many euphoric "hi's" and disturbingly lustful stares from the male populous, a well-manicured hand shot out in front of her.
"Pleasure," the owner of the hand greeted. A woman with striking gold eyes and a rather obvious spray tan grinned down at her—a foot taller than Zelda, it felt as if she were metaphorically and physically looking down on her. "I'm Nabooru Sands, vice principal of Castleton High. We are so very pleased to have you as an official student, Your Highness."
All of the vice principal's words were smooth and official, as if each syllable had a meaning. The air of strict professionalism as well as a pleasing easiness this woman upheld made Zelda relax just a tad.
As rehearsed the night before, Zelda grasped the VP's hand and shook. "Zelda Harkinian will do just fine," she said with a subtle laugh. "I'm honored to be apart of such a fine educational establishment."
Lie. And a well-fabricated one at that.
The taller woman next to her stepped forward. With sleeked black hair and an expression that demanded respect, her sharp eyes met Zelda's with such a fierce glare that she almost staggered backwards. Another shocking development—that made it twice in one day.
"Veran Black, principal." It wasn't an introduction—it was a firm statement of power. "Your Highness, while it is with great honor that we welcome you to Castleton High, I must be the bearer of bad news: under no circumstances whatsoever will you be treated differently than any other student here." Zelda stiffened as the principal inched closed to her. "If by any means there are any disruptions caused by those media dogs out there—" She jabbed a prosecuting thumb in the outside direction. "—I will have supreme authority as to take care of the situation as I see fit. In addition to this, I do not want any special privileges to be arranged for you or for your followers out there, as that would set an extremely poor example of reality to your fellow students. As I cannot legally ban them from public property, I can have them and you forcibly removed from the premises if any harm comes to the students and/or the faculty and staff. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"
"Of course, ma'am." Zelda, although trained expertly in how to handle diplomatic demands such as these, was completely derailed by the principal's obviously stated disdain for her and the lifestyle she was forced to endure since birth. In hopes to alleviate things, she added, "I hope you can understand, however, that the people outside are in no means related to me in any possible way other than that I am seen as a step closer to a considerable raise in their next paycheck."
Veran's cool, black eyes scanned her up and down. "Be that as it may, I will do whatever it takes to protect this school from any sort of shameful advertising that you could very well subject it to. I take it you can at least understand that much, Your Royal Highness." The words were spoken with such venom that Zelda almost flinched in retaliation. Nowadays, it was hard to distinguish who was a supporter of her father and who was not, but the woman before made it crystal clear: she was not happy with the current figureheads of Hyrule—especially with Zelda herself.
And honestly, who could blame her?
Without so much as giving Zelda a chance to respond, she nodded and gestured to the timid man that stood behind her. "This is Mr. Shad, the ancient history teacher. He will escort you to your first class."
With that, Principal Veran Black whisked past her in a graceful stride to break up the crowd of students that were eagerly watching Zelda's every move. The vice principal, Nabooru, clapped her on the back. "No need to worry about that one," she said, her voice carrying much more levity than it had before. "She's a stiff one, but she's got her reasons. Anyways, Shaddy here will take you to your first block, and assign you a student who's going to show you the ropes around here."
Zelda blanked. "I beg your pardon?"
Nabooru laughed. "You didn't think we'd throw you to the dogs all on your own did you?"
"I suppose not, but assigning me an escort is highly—"
"No need to thank us just yet. You never know what nutcase you're going to be paired up with, especially if Shad's the one who's got to pick 'em for you!"
The teacher, Shad, chuckled nervously beside her.
It took all of her willpower not to explode in protest. "Ms. Sands, I really believe that all of the formalities your staff has organized are very unnecessary. I am able to figure all of it out myself, truly."
Nabooru released another bellowing laugh. "Seriously, princess, we have it all taken care of. And besides, you'll only have help the first month during your stay, for administrative reasons of course. Think of it as a chance at making a new friend, rather than having an escort." She placed a hand on the princess's shoulder, who tensed defensively on contact. "Alright, here's a deal for you. If you really hate having an 'escort'—" She air quoted the word. "—then feel free to come straight to me, and I'll personally see to it that you will not be bothered during your duration of study here. But really, you've got to give this a chance. Can you at least promise me that?"
With much reluctance, Zelda agreed with a short nod. It was rare for her to follow orders from an inferior, but the pleasing air Nabooru gave off did not dispel so easily, and she found it hard to refuse such an easy-going person.
"Excellent!" Nabooru clapped her on the back once more. "Also, just call me Nabooru, or at least VP. Ms. Sands makes me feel weird. Good luck!"
She didn't even want to inquire on how the formal addressing of the VP made said VP feel weird.
Left alone with the pressure of her satchel weighing down on her shoulder and an awkward history teacher as her guide, Zelda felt utterly trapped.
She felt even more so when Shad gave her a wary glance.
"So—" Goddesses. "Shall we, Your Highness?"
She cast an inquisitive eye on her new homeroom teacher—Shad. He had rust-colored hair that was dappled with traces of blonde, and fidgety dark green eyes that hid appropriately behind thick rimmed glasses that were pushed at the highest point on his bird-like nose. He looked fresh out of university, and appeared to have had an immense amount of trouble transitioning into an adult—he still very much looked like an anxious young student to her.
That did not give her much reassurance in all of this.
Shad led the two of them down a vast number of corridors and stone hallways, maneuvering around admiring stares and wandering eyes of the students that they crossed paths with. Zelda could practically feel the hum of the gossip vibrate throughout the entire school. Her nerves were suddenly on fire.
She wrung her hands in angst. The only reason she agreed to do something as foolish as finish her studies in a public setting was because of her father. If only he hadn't coaxed her into fixing everything; if only he had settled for a more reasonable, a more private solution to their problems, perhaps—
The teacher in front of her abruptly stopped in front of a framed doorway. Above it hung a sign that read "Room 333." A plate with his name on it was placed idly on the door's right. Beyond the door, excited chatter could be heard, and movement dressed in the school's blue and green color scheme streaked swiftly across the narrow glass that peered into the classroom.
Zelda's nerves were heavily aflame. Butterflies drummed furiously against her stomach, and she almost felt the need to excuse herself to the toilet to give herself some moments of reprieve and self-encouragement.
However, before she could even suggest the thought aloud, Shad looked back at her over her shoulder, his rimmed eyes round and apologetic. "Brace yourself, Your Highness."
With a sharp click, the door to the classroom was open, and all of a sudden, the bustle of the room died in an instant. Shad walked in rigidly, gesturing silently that Zelda stay outside the door for a few moments longer before entering after him. She watched with a careful eye as he set himself behind his desk at the head of the room, and cleared his throat. The room remained deadly silent, but she knew better than to assume that no one was in there.
Shad drummed his fingers against the desk beneath him in a timid manner. "Good morning, class."
Silence.
He cleared his throat again—a nervous tick. "Well, it…it appears we have a special new student—" Goddesses, I'm ruined already. "—joining us today. It's late in the year, I know, but per special request, she wished to, ah, finish out the remainder of her credits by studying with all of us here at Castleton."
It was a blatantly obvious speech that he had prepared the night before. Zelda found herself digging her nails into her palms once again. The use of the word "special" in Shad's failed attempt at a subtle introduction had set it off, she assumed. So much for blending in.
Shad glanced over at her, trying to discretely cue her in, another simple task at which he failed to do.
Zelda felt her legs turn to stone. Could she really do this? She had certainly thought that she could. She definitely could when she arranged peaceful negotiations with the Gorons in the Eldin province when civil war was imminent. She had definitely succeeded in running a full "go-green" campaign for the Zora people when the river in the north had been dangerously polluted. Hell, she had even alleviated the trading tensions between Hyrule and Termina when she was only thirteen years of age. How could she not do this?
How hard could it be to walk into a classroom of twenty or so students and introduce herself?
Hardening her insecurities and steeling whatever dignity she had left, Zelda Harkinian gripped the straps of her satchel, turned gracefully on her heel, and sprinted towards the nearest restroom she could find, leaving her humiliation behind in the dust.
Castleton High was established in the old castles of first and second century Hyrule Kingdom, remodeled and restored to give the staff and the students a more comfortable, modern feel while also keeping in touch with their rich and deep cultural roots.
That was the first tidbit of information Zelda had gained on the school just by entering the name into the search engine on her laptop. Secluded in her study for a mere three days, she had collected whatever data was necessary to successfully survive the agreed three month enrollment at the academically appraised school her father and advisors so desperately wanted her to attend. She had thought that if she just learned all of the "fun facts" and whatnot before her arrival, then she would have everything she needed to prepare for her first day. There was no need for friends during this time of academic imprisonment—only the facts, the willpower, and the strength to finish the arrangement with her father as painless and as quiet as humanly possible.
However, Zelda wasn't able to fully recognize vomiting in the third floor girls' restroom as a clear first-day success. In fact, she decided to rule it as "the absolute worst possible outcome: fulfilled."
The press would most definitely have a field day with this one. Multiple headlines streamed across her eyes, and with each one that passed, she felt more and more bile rise in her throat. She hovered expectantly over the toilet.
She almost fell in when she heard a distinct knock on her stall door.
"Goddesses," she muttered aloud. It would be just her luck if the nuisance of a teacher sent someone to fetch her, and bring her back. It would be hell if it were the "designated escort" Nabooru had so insisted upon her having.
She glanced over her shoulder to look at the feet that waited patiently behind the door. Trousers and a pair of black sneakers. She ruled out all possibilities of the person being female when they spoke—"Are you alright in there?" The voice was thick, husky, almost tired. When Zelda did not give a proper response, another knock sounded. "Hello?"
Humiliating. "Never been better." Sarcasm was never her forte, but at that moment, she couldn't have cared less.
There was a brief passing of silence, and then, "Do you need help?"
That was indeed a question Zelda had been asking ever since she woke up that morning. She banged her head against the porcelain seat. "In all honesty, I'm not entirely sure," she replied. It was completely unlike her to be anything other than formal with complete and utter strangers, but again: who the hell cared at that point? Her reputation, both with the school and with the tabloids, would be in shambles before the day would end. What was the point in trying anymore?
Suddenly, there was the sound of pen scratching on paper. College-ruled notebook paper that had been cleanly ripped in half and folded was passed under the stall, pen included. Interest piqued, Zelda picked it up with a shaky hand.
Inside was a game of tic-tac-toe, with a scratchy X marked at the bottom middle box.
Despite herself, she snickered.
"Want to play?" the voice asked politely. She noticed that the person on the other side had leisurely propped himself up against the door, back facing her. "I'm not entirely in good shape myself, and I need a way to pass the time."
Zelda stared at the sheet of paper in her hand. It was stupid, really. Entirely idiotic.
She scribbled an elegant O to the left of the X and passed the sheet back under the stall.
The game continued on like that for a good ten minutes, each move skillfully placed by each player. Upon the return of the sheet for about the seventh time, when she opened it, she was unpleasantly surprised.
"Tic-tac-toe," the person stated with a certain smugness Zelda found to immediately dislike. He shifted beyond the stall. "Want to play again?"
In a perfect world, Zelda always won. No matter the game, no matter the situation, no matter the opponent—she never lost. Up until then, she had most certainly lived in an a rather perfect personal utopia.
It was tic-tac-toe.
How in Din's name had she lost to a complete stranger at a damn children's game?
Within two seconds, Zelda rose from the ground and swiftly slammed the stall door open to confront her mysterious rival.
Her eyes immediately locked onto shocking cobalt pearls that stared earnestly back at her. There was a bright blue sea of secrets swimming behind the glistening irises she so easily got lost in. Strands of dark blonde hair hovered over the blue so carelessly, so effortlessly, as if in attempt to hide the secrets that dangled in front of her even more so than they already were.
Electricity, nostalgia, familiarity—all of this coursed through her veins in the instant she saw him. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the blue below her.
"Who…" She knew what she wanted to say, to ask him, but she found that she could barely get the words to pass through her lips. Who are you?
A smirk played at the corners of the boy's mouth. In one swift movement, he stood up and towered over her—a good foot and a half taller than her. Too tall.
"Are you wanting a rematch?" he inquired suggestively, his hands lazily seated in his pockets and a comfortable hunch situated his posture. It wasn't unattractive on him in the slightest.
She felt vulnerable. She felt weak when he stared at her like that. It wasn't like her at all to feel inferior to anyone else but her father—especially to someone she didn't even know.
Her mouth parted, to protest to him that, no she didn't want a rematch, but instead an explanation as to why he was in the girls' restroom and why he was so interested in getting someone to play a meaningless children's game with him to just "pass the time?" It made no sense, and she pushed all of the illogical feelings she had experienced—was experiencing, she corrected—when she looked at him.
And what in the ever-loving hell was a boy doing sitting in a ladies' restroom?
"Who in Din's name do you think you are?" she demanded.
The boy's eyes did not falter. Instead, they seemed to intensify, making her feel so much smaller than she knew she was. The smirk did not disappear. It pissed her off.
"I'm your new best friend," he stated, as if it were common knowledge, or at least should have been. Zelda couldn't help but gape. "I was running late to class, and on the way, I heard all of these weird groaning sounds coming from here—it sounded like someone was dying. Guess that was you, huh?"
Zelda bristled.
"Anyways, since I was already late, what better way to pass the time than to make a new friend over some nice, friendly competitive games?"
Was he a psychopath?
"Oh, hold on." He gave her a once over, and reached a strong finger to wipe away some residual leftovers that somehow stuck to her cheek. She hardened. "There. Now all you need is a smile, and you'll be good as gold."
She felt her fingers flex instinctively. Impa had only taught her the basics of self-defense—something about never resorting to violence unless absolutely necessary, but to act when threatened. Malon had advised against any solution of the sort; said it was "bad publicity" that the media would "eat up in ten seconds flat." However, there were no cameras, no reporters, and especially no teachers in sight. Perhaps throwing a punch or two would help calm her nerves, and serve as a good example to the rest of the world that a pervert always deserved his just reward.
With all of the strength she could muster, Princess Zelda Harkinian of Hyrule pulled back her arm, and served a breathtaking jab right to rising young senior Link Forester's right lower jaw at the exact same time the fateful click of a digital camera phone went off to catch the spectacular three seconds it took to serve said punch.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed Chapter One! I plan on completing this to the very end, but I'm very slow on posting due to school and other extracurricular activities that may/will hinder the writing and updating process. Still, I hope you stick with it!
Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll leave a word or two before you go. :)
