And she danced. Her hair bounced and curled as she enjoyed herself. The music, so soft, so delicate, was perfect. With violins just barely audible, their singing voices almost unable to be heard above the harmonious sound of horns and a low brass choir. She was in heaven, and never wanted to leave.
The clock, perched above the stage where the orchestra plays, chimes ten. The night slowly seduces it's way past her, sneaking by. The echoing noise of time hugs her waist and the ring left after kisses her cheeks. Rosy red, blushing hard, she laughs. Such a joyous sound. Full of festive flourishes and excited twinges of happiness. It blends perfectly with the childish, innocent waltz being performed behind her.
The world spins around her. The golden lights shine in white lines as she twirls across the room. The orchestra, rising and falling in waves more beautiful, more perfect than the ocean on a soft summer morning, warms her. It surrounds her closer than before, and becomes one with her soul. She closes her eyes, and allows herself to fall into peace.
"I'm the Happy Mask Salesman." And she falls down, clutching the area on her head where he collided with the man. Her eyes trail up his spidery legs, and eventually stop on the smile of crooked yellow teeth, dark in posture.
"I- I'm Zelda," she says.
"Nice to meet you, Zelda," he says, extending a hand to help her up. The dainty woman accepts his offer, though cautiously, and stands.
Spotting the bag on his back, she instantly grows more curious of the odd fellow," what is that bag for?"
"Why," he chuckles," I'm a traveler, a mask-trader, a merchant. I'm what you would call, a man of his own devices." And he erupts into a storm of furious, shaking laughter. The sound booms over the orchestra which has moved onto a slower sort of ballad.
"Really?" She asks, smiling nervously. She pulls a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, and backs up a few steps.
"Oh yes, my dear. And maybe you could tell me what that darling little tiara on your head means?" He reaches for the accessory perched atop the woman's head, and is promptly stopped by a slap to the hand.
"I'm a princess. The Princess of Hyrule, in fact," she replies, readjusting the item in question.
"Oh, I had no idea I was before such royalty," he says, bowing slightly. The bag of masks attempts to escape his back as he bends forward.
"Would you like a mask? It's only my pleasure to give a gift to someone so important," his smile grows wide. Dark shadows form beneath his eyes.
"What mask do you speak of? How did you even get into my castle? Need I call the guards?" She asks, quite hesitant to accept his gift.
"Any mask that you'd like, as long as it's in, or on, my bag. I came in through the front door, the guards did not say a thing. I assumed they were okay with my entry," a mischievous grin crawls over his facial features. In a moment, he drops the bag before her," so I'm assuming you want one?"
After pondering over the offer for a brief second, she crouches before the bag," I guess." The Happy Mask Salesman takes a step back, to watch the princess.
"What is this one?" She asks, holding up a mask covered in chipping yellow paint.
"That's the Keaton Mask, dear. It would be of no use to you," he says, half-distracted by a scuff on the floor.
"Oh," and she places the mask aside. She carefully moves through the bag, being careful not to harm any of the masks. Occasionally, if she moves one too roughly, she'll glance up at the Happy Mask Man, nervous he would shout. Violins in the background shiver violently with vibrato, and low voices shove their way through with chords of uneasy despair.
"Hurry darling, I'm getting a bit impatient," he says. Zelda nods, moving another several masks to the side. And she spots it.
"I like this one," she says, holding up the mask before him.
"Ohohoho, that is Majora's Mask. It's rare, it's very powerful. Very powerful indeed," he crouches down to look at the mask up close. The paint, which must be ages old, is hardly chipped or even faded. The colors are dark, menacing even.
"I like it," she says, meeting the Happy Mask Man's eyes. After a moment of silent communication, he snatches the mask from her hands.
"I'm sorry, but the last time someone took this mask, an entire city was destroyed," he says, holding it out before him. A sigh, deep and raspy, escapes his mouth.
"But- you said I could have any of them."
"Yes, I did. And I apologize for my mistake, but I cannot let this fall into the wrong hands again."
"Are you saying that I, Princess Zelda of Hyrule, am unfit to possess a mask? I have dozens in my bedroom," she says, frowning. The music dips down, and begins a waltz gloomy in atmosphere.
"Oh no, dear. I'm just saying that this mask is too much for anybody. Somebody could steal it, it's very sought after."
"I'll have my best knights guard it."
"That just would not do, darling. I'm afraid that you cannot have this mask," he shakes his head, and tucks the mask beneath his shirt.
"I'm calling the guards. You're going to the dungeon if you don't give me that mask," she warns, gritting her teeth in anger.
"So be it," he says, his expression calm.
And in moments, knights were on the man and his merchandise. His eyes were empty but not concerned, and a smirk played quietly on his mouth. Two pulled him away by the arms, and two took his bag and all of the masks with it.
"Are you okay, milady?" A guard asks, reaching to hold her shoulder.
"Of course, I'm fine," she says, unfocused. She dusts off her dress, and forces a smile at the guard.
"If you say so," he nods," should I escort you to your room?"
"Please."
The mask infiltrated her thoughts. She spent hours, days, thinking of the mask. She grew dehydrated, and very unclean. Her room fell into despair, and it was clearly not cared for.
"Zelda, darling, are you okay?" The nurse calls from outside the door.
"Of course, of course," she always replied.
She grabs the only quill she owns, a small one, with a blue and green feather. Her ink jar was half-empty. After dipping the quill in the dark liquid, she scratches the tip against a sheet of yellowed paper. The lines, shaky and inconsistent, form words and lines which show no coherency.
"I'm asking you," she mutters to herself," to give me it."
The picture, a crudely drawn sketch of the mask, has words scribbled around it. Their unintelligible letters mean almost nothing to someone who knew nothing of what she spoke of.
She strides uneasily to the window, and presses the paper against the glass.
"Thank you," she falls with her forehead against the picture, and laughs. She laughs angrily, jovially, hurt. It echoes through her room, and bounces haphazardly across the furniture.
"Zelda, you need to come out," a masculine voice calls.
"I'm fine," she would say, not bothering to even see who was summoning her.
The bath was clogged and could hardly drain water. A bath from two weeks prior still remained, and that did not make a difference to the princess. The water was murky with grime and mold. The room smelt of fecal matter, and was constantly humid with urine. It collected on the walls and the mirror, making the paint and glass cloudy and yellow. The princess took no notice, and would continue with her daily habits as if nothing was awry.
"We're knocking down this door if you do not come out, Zelda," they would threaten.
"So be it," she would reply, continuing with her sketch, or bath, or nap. They never followed through, which only brought slight joy to Zelda.
Once, seeking a new jar of ink, she ventured from her room. A guard, which was stationed outside of her bedroom door, was taken by surprise as the door swung open, and he was hit by a wave of stench which made his eyes water.
"Zelda!" He cries, jumping from his seat. He rushes over, and envelopes the princess in a hug, holding his breath while doing so.
"I need a new jar of ink," she whispers, stepping away from him. His eyes, which grow concerned, meet hers.
"Yes, milady."
"I'm going with you. Make sure nobody knows I have left my quarters," her voice is soft, frightening the knight just slightly.
"Of course," he agrees, taking her down the corridor.
They did not speak during their travel. The guard, who was used to the smell by now, could breathe regularly, but did not want to frighten the princess.
As they reach the store room which holds extra accessories such as paper, kitchen utensils, and ink, the princess speaks," how is the prisoner fairing?" But she did not care for the prisoner, her mind was on the mask which he possessed.
"He is fine, as far as prisoners go," his voice is hushed. He grabs a full jar of ink, and hands it to the princess.
"May I visit him?"
"I must escort you there, if you wish to see him," he says.
"So be it."
So with ink in hand, the princess and the guard make their secret trek down to the dungeon cells. The Happy Mask Salesman is in just as bad of shape as Zelda is. Of course, he had been drinking clean water, and eating, so their conditions were slightly differing.
"Hello," she says, crouching before him.
"Why hello, princess. When I heard the footsteps I thought it was my evening meal on the way," he chuckles, rolling a pebble with his middle finger across the floor.
"Where is the mask?" She asks, staring him in the eyes.
"I do not know, my dear," a smile grows on his features, another laugh leaves his mouth.
"I know you know. I know you know," she repeats, gripping the metal bars with a force so strong it worried the guard.
"Perhaps," a sly look covers his face.
"Tell me now, or you shall be executed."
"It's buried in the ground. Buried beneath rubble, beneath stone. It's quite near here."
"It's here," she states, looking about with wild eyes.
"It's covered with cloth, and lays against skin."
"But you said it was beneath stone, it's near!" She shouts, slamming her fists against the bars. The guard jumps at Zelda.
"Milady, he's a prisoner trying to escape. We should leave."
"I need that mask."
"If you let me out and give me your finest quarters, I'll give you the mask."
"I'll do it," she says, looking to the guard. He does not move, but quickly rethinks his decision, and grabs the key from the wall.
"Thank you, princess," the Happy Mask Salesman says.
He was released and promptly taken to the room nearest to the princess's. He settled quietly, and thanked the guard who took him to his room. He did not speak much, except to ask for his masks back. The guard usually denied him of that request, as he was still prisoner in the castle. He did clean himself, and dined on food which was brought to him each night by the guard who watched Zelda.
"When do I get the mask?" She asks the moment they reach the room.
"In time, dear. In time."
"You said-"
"I'm aware of what I said, but I did not set a time nor a date. You must be patient and show me that you are worthy of the mask."
She storms back to her room, locking herself up again. She did not reply to the pleas of guards and the nurse who asked her to come out. She did not reply when asked how she felt. She needed the mask. The guard who escorted her to and from the prisoner's cell did not return to watch the door after he moved the Happy Mask Salesman across the hall from the princess, but Zelda was not aware of his absence.
Zelda presses her face into the dusty sheets of her bed, and cries. The tears wet the fabric, and make her cheeks red. She sobs, taking choppy, uncontrollable breaths as she weeps.
"That mask is mine," she says.
"Indeed it is."
The princess whips around to see who spoke. It's the Happy Mask Man, the mask perched atop his face.
"Give me that!" She shouts, lunging for the mask. He steps back, narrowly dodging her attempt.
"No dear, you are not ready."
"I need it! You don't understand!" She shouts, collapsing to her knees. Her tangled blonde hair falls in front of her face, and collects tears as they fall.
"Look at me, darling," he says. Zelda looks up, and watches as he removes the mask, and tosses it through the window.
"My mask!" She wails, jumping after it.
The gardener was taken by surprise when met with Zelda's broken body. She had only by chance been beneath the princess's window, the roses had begun to wilt, and were in need of water. The princess fell atop a bush which the gardener had just finished tending to. In a moment, she rushed inside to call for the guards, as she had no idea as to why Zelda had jumped from her window.
At the same moment, the guard outside broke down the door to find the princess's room in disarray, and the window broken. He shouts to call the other guards, and immediately returns to the corridor where he enters the Happy Mask Salesman's room.
The small man was in the corner, examining a mask. It was dark in color and had a menacing expression. Laughter was drifting from him, and chilled the guard.
"You're going back to the dungeon," the guard says.
And the Happy Mask Salesman looks up with a smile wide across his face," so be it."
A/N
This was an odd story. I don't know how I feel about it. I'd really like to hear your opinion on this one... Anyways, thanks so much for reading, it means a whole lot to me.
-Twilit Lady of Majesty