The inspired Fanfiction from the great Victor hugo and Disney's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame".
7-2-11: I just saw an LP for Final Fantasy X and the ending made me teary-eyed...
Still can't wait for Skyward Sword!
Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda or the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Kudos to Victor Hugo, Disney, Nintendo, and Shigeru Miyamato.
The Masks of Vanity
.IV.
Chapter Four: The Coming of a Change
Underneath the layers of grandeur and expensive flair,
Even the red carpet has teeth...
The Knight knows this very well,
for he had once shed blood underneath the light of the chandeliers of the Palazzo.
.IV.
His eyes were electric blue.
The first thought that had come to her mind when she had met him.
Zelda had been aimlessly skipping by the alleyways that snaked around the Square, the bells on her wrist tinkling their tuneless songs, when she heard a mare's not so distant whinny.
Increasing her pace, she turned a sharp corner and gasped suddenly, pressing against the wall. A tall, silver knight strode down the street, his armor gleaming in the sunlight. He looked surreal for some reason, his clothing was immaculate and inexplicably exorbitant, unlike the rusted attire the normal guards of Castelle sported.
Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, she glanced down at the gown she had worn for the Festival. It was colorful and pricey, just what you'd expect a young noblewoman to wear.
And suddenly, she felt an impulse. If she was ever to find a knight, why not start now?
Laughing a bit at her sudden daring, she flew out the alley, heading straight for the Knight's way, a taunting smile on her lips.
She couldn't tell what it was about him that drew her full attention. Maybe it was the courteousness he exuded so effortlessly, the cautious politeness in his words that was so rare with knights nowadays. Maybe it was the mysterious smile that would dart across his lips, too fast and fleeting for her to properly remember. Or maybe it was the blue eyes, pure and knowing, with a bottled ferocity that perhaps rivaled that of hers.
Because deep inside those blues, she could see a lost soul paving their way to the world with determination, leaving footsteps for those to follow in the future. The very same footsteps she wanted to follow.
.IV.
He was the Captain.
The second thought that struck her just as hard as the first after their meeting; after her sudden and shameful escape.
She remembered the confused look on his face as she vanished off and swore silently to herself. "You've really done it this time, Zelda. You're in it deep…"
Zelda scrambled through the alley, breath pounding against her lungs. Whoever this knight was, surely he must have been more skillful and witty than Vaati, else the Commander wouldn't have traded him.
Her prayers for a challenged had been answered. The only prayer of hers that had come true. And the only one that would inevitably cost her a life.
.IV.
Knil lumbered off to the balcony, the statues jumping behind him in hot pursuit. They had rounded bodies and sculpted wings that flapped slightly—representing the faeries that had accompanied the acclaimed Hero of Legends on his quest to save Hyrule and Termina.
"I can't believe it!" Tael cried, his mouth dropping open as he hopped onto the railing with arm thrown into the air. "You're going to the festival!"
"Hey!" Navi chirped, perching herself up on Knil's shoulder, her stone wings fluttering with the effort. Her eyes were wide and lively. "Listen! Off to see the gypsy princess, huh?"
Knil laughed, patting her head gingerly. "She is the star of the whole festival, you know."
Tatl stood behind Tael, her expression grave, which contrasted greatly with her brother's grinning face. "Make sure you don't get spotted…"
"Hey! Listen!" Navi burbled again, much to Tatl's annoyance. "That won't happen! I'll go with him!"
"While that's very nice of you to offer Navi, I'm afraid you can't." Knil said.
"Hey! Why not?" Navi trilled.
"Because you're a stone statue. And statues aren't supposed to talk." Tael scoffed. "And besides, you attract too much attention. I'm sure Knil can take care of himself." He turned to Tatl. "Right, sis?"
Tatl glanced down the balcony. "There she is…"
"Who?" Navi fluttered down next to her, hopping up vigorously.
"The gypsy girl."
"Where?" Knil ran to the railings, leaning over to catch a glimpse of her. "Ah, there she is…"
A golden flurry of silky hair glided down the street, velvet dress fanning out behind her. Crossing the street, she exchanged words with a furious-looking redhead, who was throwing her arms up in what seemed to be exasperation and shock.
"You know she got rid of Vaati Dosteit, right?" Tatl said. "Apparently she bewitched him and the Commander was not happy about it one bit."
"Meh." Teal shrugged. "I never really did like him. He seemed a bit more on the shady side."
"Hey! Listen! The Commander traded him off for someone! I heard from the people talking downstairs yesterday."
"It seems the Commander has a special hatred towards the gypsy princess." Tatl mused.
"Well, why doesn't he just cancel the Fool's Festival?" Tael asked.
Tatl gave her brother a long-suffering look. "Because the King adores the Fool Festival. And the Commander loves impressing him. His Majesty will be coming over at night to dine with him at the Castle, like they do every year. The Commander doesn't let the gypsies in though, he thinks they're too roguish and wild."
"Oooh! Hey! The court jesters will be there too!" Navi burbled happily.
"Ooh! I love those guys!" Tael cried, flapping his wings excitedly. "You're so lucky, Knil!"
"Yeah." Knil grunted. "I'll be at the Pre-festival outside. But I don't think I'll take part in the Night Festival. They probably won't let me in the Castle."
"That's ridiculous." Tatl said, her voice firm and assuring. "They won't know who you are. And the King invites everyone in the city. Why not you?"
Knil turned away from them all, a frown dulling the sparkle of his eyes. "Because they haven't yet seen the monstrous bellringer of Notre Trio Dame…"
.IV.
SLAP.
Zelda recoiled as the redhead's hand collided against her cheek, a stinging pain running up her jaw. Cremia's eyes were wide and shining with anger and part disbelief. Her shoulders trembled slightly.
The golden-haired gypsy did not take kindly to this and snarled right back at her. "What was that?"
Cremia gritted her teeth together. "What in the world made you so daring?"
"What in the world made you so violent?" Zelda countered, fisting her hands together and placing it against her sides to keep from punching her. She was on the verge of losing it already. Vexing Cremia wouldn't help.
Cremia glared at her, eyes as hard as diamond. "Do you realize what that knight could have done to you? Do you realize he could have dragged you to the Castle and place you at the Commander's mercy?"
"Since when did you doubt my abilities?" Zelda crossed her arms, defiant. "I've handled Vaati well. I've handled plenty of those amateur soldiers well!"
"Yes." Cremia nodded, her hands up in the air and waving madly. "I know that. I've seen you fight…but do you think it makes me happy? Watching you risk your life so recklessly, just for the fun of it?" She blinked rapidly, running both hands through her hair. "Because I don't, Zelda. And neither does Impa, in case you can't tell. But have you ever stopped to notice?"
Zelda struggled to find her voice…and words. "Of…course I have. But do you expect me to stand by and let other gypsies risk their lives for me?"
"You are our leader, Zelda. The spirit of the gypsies would die without you, you must understand…" Cremia sighed imploringly.
"I've tried to….but it doesn't seem like I can…."
.IV.
Clouds gathered around the peaks of the Militia Castle, like a crowd of vultures circling their home…
A foreboding feeling crept up his spine as soon as he stepped foot in the meeting room. Every inch of wall was flanked by armored guards, all with spears ready at bay; they were sharpened enough to be able to stab through his gut, lest he say the wrong thing to the Commander.
And speaking of the Commander…
"Sir Avignon." The voice he had was deep and rumbling, just as intimidating as the ebony throne he sat on. The floors seemed to shake, but it could have been just his own imagination.
The Knight wanted to say, "Call me Sir Link," but he was not in the least bit comfortable with the idea himself.
Instead, he nodded. "Commander, it is an honor."
Then he bowed. Bowed. Like an idiot. He could have slapped himself. This wasn't a king.
"Hm." The Commander mused, tapping his strong chin thoughtfully as his eyes studied the young man. "You are…taller than what I expected."
Link pursed his lips and nodded, not sure what to say. Being tall is…an admirable trait in some circumstances I suppose…
"And your skin is very light." The Commander added, raising a brow. "Do you not train outside?"
Link nearly smiled, but found that the muscles in his cheek were too stiff to do so. The noblewomen that came to Ustelle for the Lady's company were far paler than him, and they often commented on the light bronze-ish tint he sported, remarking at how bright and exquisite his blue eyes looked in comparison.
"Castelle's weather is very mild. The sun rarely graces us with its presence at all." The Knight said.
The Commander let out a brief laugh, tapping his callused fingers on the rest of his throne. "How…poetic."
"Merely court talk, Commander."
The Commander smirked, amused. "But of course."
Link nodded, his throat suddenly filling with questions to ask, but did not dare to. Perhaps, he'd be able to voice them once the time was right. One matter seemed to trouble him the most out of all of them, and his tongue burned with need to ask the question. It seemed to be a rather touchy subject for the Duke of Ustelle, so he could only assume the Commander was just as hesitant to answer his questions…
"Who was the Captain before me?" The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. The Commander's eyes lifted to lock onto his and he stiffened immediately.
"Join me, please." The Commander stood suddenly with a smile—a tall and imposing figure, completely swaddled in black clothing with gold finery peeking out from his broad collar. His golden eyes glittered.
The guards stood to alert at the movement, righting their postures as the Commander strode by. "Tell the warden to open the gates to the underground dungeons." He chuckled darkly, motioning for Link to follow.
Link felt impeccably small trailing after, underneath the guard's unblinking gaze, and fisted his hands.
What had he gotten himself into?
.IV.
Moaning.
It was the first thing that entered the Knight's ears; low and somehow screeching. The lament of the tortured.
It wafted through the closed twin doors, reaching and beckoning.
A tall, voluptuous woman kicked open through a small wooden door, positioned on the wall opposite to the dungeon entrance. Her hair was flaming red and set in a high ponytail that swished behind her like a whip. Her eyes were just as golden as the Commander's, though more lively and bright. She was lightly tanned and wore what seemed to be the most daunting outfit Link had ever seen a woman wear.
It edged low on her collar and ended below her bosom, displaying a flat tummy. Her pants, however, were long and billowy, colored a bright yellow.
Upon seeing Link she smiled. Dangerously so. "Well, you're a new face, yeah?"
Her red lips flicked up sharply, cunning and teasing at the same time. "And who is this fine young specimen, Commander?" Her voice was honey-thick, with a foreign drawl.
Link shifted his feet. The Commander stepped forward with a mirthless laugh. "Really, Nabooru. You ought to be busy keeping the prisoners in line, not ogling knights."
"Ah," The woman—Nabooru—smirked, her gaze intensifying as they focused on Link. "So he is a knight, yeah?" She grinned. "Where are you from, stranger?"
"I come from Ustelle, milady."
Nabooru laughed then, clutching her stomach as she stepped back. "Milady? Been a long time since someone round here called me a lady."
"That's because you aren't one." Another woman stepped out from the kicked wooden doors, with hair and eyes just as the same as Nabooru's, yet her figure was shorter and slightly less curvaceous.
"Who is that?" The Commander asked blatantly, pointing to the newcomer.
"My apprentice." Nabooru replied.
"And you've never even bothered to tell me?"
"You never bothered to ask. And you certainly didn't tell me about your little recruit here, yeah?" Nabooru flicked her wrist towards Link, coupling it with a wink.
"Actually." The Commander intoned. "He's not just some recruit. He is to be the new Captain of the Guard."
"Ah." Nabooru smiled knowingly. "So you say you want to visit the dungeons, yeah?" She turned to her apprentice. "Aveil, open the doors to the underground dungeons. And bring me a torch too, yeah?"
"Milady." Her apprentice, Aveil, mock-bowed before strolling to the door and reaching into the hidden pockets of her long pants, pulling out a large set of rusted golden keys. She inserted it in the lock, turning until a clicksounded.
Link watched as he pressed against the door, grunting. It didn't move an inch. Nabooru snorted and the Commander's eyes glittered impatiently.
He walked through them, missing the vague look of surprise on Nabooru's face as he walked to the twin doors, ushering Aveil away. Placing a hand on both doors he pushed, his muscles flexing from their long trip, glad for the feel of movement.
"He's strong, yeah?" Nabooru said to the Commander as Link turned to face them again. "Handsome too."
Aveil handed her master the torch and the trio entered the dungeons.
.IV.
The moaning increased as light flooded in from Nabooru's torch, revealing a spiraling staircase that stretched down to the abyss below.
Nabooru squared her shoulders and led the way. "This place stinks, I know. But what do you really expect?" her hand reached out to light the other torches hung on the damp walls, a tinge of amusement in her voice. "I bet the palace in Ustelle is real nice."
"It is." Link nodded truthfully.
"Hm. Yeah. Not like this dump." Nabooru said.
.IV.
"Ah, here we are." The Commander stopped suddenly, turning to face another cell in what Link guessed to be the east hall of the dungeons. Nabooru shifted next to him, the light of her torch lending it's glow.
The cell was empty. She snorted.
"Commander?" Link asked, puzzled. "My earlier question…"
"I'm getting to it, Sir Avignon. Let me just tell you a little story before I answer it so soon." The Commander chuckled, gripping the iron bars of the cell and grinning wickedly. "A story about a gypsy princess…"
Nabooru rolled her eyes. "Oh, this'll be good."
Review.
:)