Seven
She was clearly not in a good mood.
Given the few options open to her at the moment, thanks to her pregnancy, it probably shouldn't have been that surprising to find her throwing daggers into a wooden target. She couldn't physically fight with someone, and she was surprisingly cautious about the type and amount of magic she used, because no one really knew what magic might do to a pregnancy. No doubt if she'd been less cautious, they might've found something on fire. Or heard some very loud explosions...
Ganon had watched her for a few minutes, assessing her temper, then left her alone. Link had hovered longer, but when she had refused to acknowledge him, he also left. Not without some kicked-puppy backward glances, but he had left.
Zelda, however, had stayed. Well, initially she had left briefly since she needed to do some work; after collecting a lap desk and the relevant documents, she had returned to the yard. Raiha, she had decided, might need space, but she doubted that non-impinging company would be brushed away. So she would do paperwork, and Raiha would work off her temper.
The boys had simply given up too early. Besides which, it was a nice spring day, and working outside was better than working in her study, even with the windows open. The warm sun felt nice on her shoulders, and there was comfort to be found in the steady thump of dulled knives striking and sinking into wood.
Zelda was patient. When Raiha was ready to talk, she would talk, and until then, remaining nearby but busy in a way that didn't press on the other woman was the best way to offer support.
"Am I someone who needs defending?" Raiha finally asked, on her way back from retrieving the daggers.
"That depends on what you might need defending from, dear," Zelda replied, keeping her tone deliberately distracted. "Why?"
Raiha made a faint grumbling sound, and another three daggers flew threw the air to embed in the poor, beat up target.
"That boy thinks I need protection from rumors."
"Your newest headache?"
A faint snort was Raiha's reply, and Zelda smiled slightly. Who else would she call 'boy', after all?
"He got into a brawl with a pair of my troublemakers, and knocked over almost a dozen shelves that were set to start getting bolted down in two days," the redhead said, aggravation clear in her voice. "All because the brats were whining about me and making disparaging remarks, as ill-mannered children are wont to do when told to behave."
"You have told him just how much political prowess you have, yes?"
The question was not as idle as it sounded, and Zelda felt Raiha's irritated stare more than she saw it.
"Why should I?" she replied. "I'm the Royal Sage, I'd think it's obvious."
"The Sage title didn't come with the lands," Zelda pointed out, glancing up and giving her lover a faint smile. "You had those well before the job posting."
That got a reluctant—still aggrieved—smile in reply.
"That's not even a point to be made," Raiha said. "As far as they're concerned, I'm the Royal Sage, head of the library, the archives, and carrier of more knowledge than they'll ever guess at. Telling them I'm the voice of Eldin province is just overkill. Especially since, no doubt, some of them have holdings in Eldin Province, and I really don't need that sort of deference anyways, Zel. You know that."
Raiha pulled the blades out of the target, and came to sit near Zelda, dropping the blades in a small bucket near the bench, and grabbing a waterskin as she did.
"If you splash me while I'm holding documents, I will have to get cross with you," Zelda said, frowning down at the paper.
"As if I would."
"...you would. If you thought to escape the consequences."
Raiha grinned a little, unrepentantly, then carefully poured some of the water over her head to help cool down. Zelda signed the paper with a faint nod, put it into the lap desk, then half-turned to give the Gerudo woman her full attention.
"Dear, it's not a matter of deference, it's a matter of the politics. If you were just the Royal Sage, made such based on your extreme level of knowledge and ability, without anything else, you would be much more vulnerable to rumors and hearsay than you might think. If I did not know you personally, many things that have come to my attention about you would require thorough, heavy investigation, and a constant check to ensure that you are not, in fact, trying to put in a plot to overthrow the kingdom, and turn it into a Gerudo haven."
Raiha blinked at her, and her mouth twisted a little in a mix of amused incredulity.
"Seriously?"
"Yes. That's not even the worst rumor," Zelda smiled a little wryly. "But it is one of the more entertaining. Dear, you can be free to not care simply because you are powerful. But he didn't know that, and probably thought he was acting on behalf of your best interests." She paused, then amended, "Possibly. Knocking over the shelves is a bit overkill..."
That got her a laugh.
"Just a lot. The two idiots are banned, and the boy is going to have to miss learning how to work in the Archives until he's finished helping fix the mess he made. How'd the meeting end?"
The change in subject was lacking in subtly, especially for Raiha. Zelda went along with it anyways, because Raiha needed her to do so, and also because it was something she would need to know for the future.
"Fairly well, I think. They said they would take the paper back to their elders, along with all our annotations, and the extended Ganon the same invitation as they had you. He's not entirely sure if it's a good idea at the moment, but he did at least say he would think about it. Are you?"
"Thinking about it? Yeah," Raiha shrugged lightly, and rubbed her hand over her damp face, then through her hair. "I'd like for any children of mine to spend some time there, actually. Not permanent, not live there—unless they're old enough and want to—but the desert is going to be part of them, and they ought to know about that part of their heritage."
"And you want to know how everything has changed."
Raiha snickered a little, and half-shrugged.
"Naturally. Compared to the distant past, this is so progressive, I almost think I'm dreaming half the time. Male Gerudo living to see their first birthday as part of the tribe? Being a good part of the tribe? I love it, and at the same time I don't really know what to think about it. I have to see it in action before I'll understand it. But that's not going to be happening for a few years at least; I have no desire to risk giving birth to the twins out there, and..."
She hesitated. Went quiet. Zelda reached out and gently smoothed some of Raiha's damp hair out of her face.
"And you want to know if you can love these children," she finished gently. "If you can love them unreservedly, instead of always holding back the way you do with the adults."
Raiha grimaced, and nodded.
Zelda knew that a part of Raiha always stood back, watchful, wary, and utterly exhausted. She even had a vague understanding as to why, though it was certainly more intuition than outright knowledge. Even after reading the journals, it was still somewhat difficult to reconcile that woman with the one who sat next to her.
Raiha was so very old, and she could hardly be blamed for a desire to just lay down and sleep, and yet here she was, pressing on because she couldn't leave them. Because she had wanted this chance for happiness, to allow herself the love she had so long denied. Was it any wonder she had trouble with deference and respect? This extremely long life had been more punishment than blessing...
"...do you ever think it might have been easier to just... not come back?" Zelda asked quietly, gently resting a hand over Raiha's. "To go to that final rest you were so long denied?"
She watched Raiha blink at her in surprise, and had to work to not look away in embarrassment at how intrusive the question was. It probably wasn't a fair question either, but she wanted to know.
"Well..." Raiha frowned a little, then leaned back slightly, absently running her fingers over her belly. "Sometimes, yes. Because it would have been. The boys would have loved you, you'd probably end up having something like... twenty kids together," and she laughed at Zelda's dismayed squeak, "and I wouldn't be around to get involved in this new round of madness. I'd get to finally rest, and when my soul was next born, if ever, I wouldn't carry this burden of memories, feelings, and utter exhaustion. And that is... so tempting. You would not believe how long I spent in the Sacred Realm trying to decide which path would be best for me to follow with my duties dealt with. Time has no meaning there..."
She sighed a little, and winced again.
"Damnit child, quit kicking me please, I hurt enough!"
Zelda had to laugh; even though this was Raiha's first pregnancy, she still had never seen her at anything less than confident. Oh, there had been times in the early months where the redhead had left abruptly, overwhelmed by emotions typically held in check, but she had approached this excursion with the same strength and ability to overcome as she had approached everything else. Including, apparently, returning to the people she loved.
"Well, it is almost your time," the queen said with a fond smile. "Perhaps they are simply trying to tell you to ease up until they are born."
"Hmph."
Zelda giggled again, and leaned her head against Raiha's shoulder. For a few moments there was silence, a silence Zelda was willing to let stand if Raiha didn't want to finish.
"I guess I'm just not a person who can take the easy path," Raiha finally sighed. "They might have gotten over me, moved on... but to be fair, Ganon probably would have died on his desert excursion. Twit that he is. And Link never would have been happy as a prince-consort, or king-consort either; he's a hero, he needs to physically Do Things, not sit around with papers letting other people do the work for him. So I'm here. And here I stay, until my time winds down naturally."
"...both for yourself and the pregnancy?"
Raiha blinked. Gave Zelda a narrow-eyed stare. Then a faintly exasperated-amused shove.
"You get to laugh because you've already gone through it," she grumbled. "And you were never in doubt about loving your own children."
"I think you'll easily be able to love them," Zelda said gently. "And we all know you love us, even if you can't always say it, or even show it. We know."
She saw color stain Raiha's cheeks, and the redhead got up abruptly, scooping up another brace of throwing knives. While she hadn't intended to embarrass Raiha, Zelda would admit that it was cute the way she got flustered. It was also rare, and thus far, the Hylian woman was fairly certain she was the only one who could provoke such a reaction.
Of course, the boys didn't often talk overtly of such things; Ganon was someone who let his deeds do the talking more than his words. Link just seemed to lack the ability to articulate when it came to intensely emotional moments at that.
The staccato rhythm picked up again, as Zelda pulled out another set of documentation to study, and continued for a good twenty minutes before Raiha took another break.
"If we're going to be logical, if I wasn't who and what I am, I wouldn't have any of those things, and there wouldn't be a Royal Sage post," she said abruptly, turning back to the original topic. "It would be a moot point."
"Maybe," Zelda allowed. "But it's not a moot point. It couldn't hurt to let him know that you're just as powerful politically as you are physically and magically."
"...d'you think I was too harsh on him?"
The queen chuckled a little, shaking her head.
"No, dear. His punishment seems fair enough to me. I assume you have him cleaning up the mess?"
"Mmhm. He gets to help lift, sort, fetch, and carry until it's all squared away again," Raiha said with a nod. "And he gets to figure out again that I'm not who I was, and I never can be again."
Zelda leaned in and kissed Raiha's cheek, making the Gerudo woman startle a bit.
"I think there's parts of you that were parts of her, and those parts can be safely let loose again," Zelda told her lover. "But that's up to you. You do have a good point as well; all that time would change anyone, both for good and for ill. Is there a way to help dim the things he remembers?"
"...you know, there might be," Raiha said thoughtfully. "Though it'll have to wait until kickyfeet are born."
Zelda laughed slightly, sympathetically.
"Not too much longer, dear. And then you'll get to experience a very different sort of adventure."
"Theoretically, this one won't kill me," Raiha said dryly, absently massaging her shoulder. "Just run my far more ragged than ever."
Zelda just chuckled again, and watched as Raiha slowly got back up, scooping up the knives and heading for the equipment shed. After a moment she put her papers away, packing the lap desk up neatly, and was ready to head back inside when Raiha returned.
Sheik's head reeled a little at the information. He hadn't expected to see the lady so soon after thoroughly disappointing her as he had, but not only had she returned to the library, she had pulled him away from the work to inform him of precisely why she was not in danger from harsh words and rumors like those that Isran and Toril had been sharing.
Of course, she had sent him immediately back to work after informing him of her rank, and it was all he could do to keep his focus as he helped to haul the shelves back into place so they could get at the books beneath.
A Duchess. No, not just a duchess, the duchess of Eldin province. The one in charge of tax and tithe rates on her lands, who had final say in certain matters of state, and who could be appealed to as necessary for aid and relief. It didn't help much that she was also considered the liaison for Zora and Gorons. And now, apparently, Gerudo too.
No wonder she didn't care much about what the pair had said! She had enough political clout as to be able to stand practically on equal footing with the queen herself, never mind the fact that Queen Zelda was also her lover!
Or... one of them, at least.
And he wanted to see if he couldn't become part of that? It made him wonder just how out of his depth he truly might be. While his family had holdings in the Faron province, he was only the second son, his older sister's heir until she decided to have or adopt children of her own. He was only considered a political catch for someone who was of the lower levels of aristocracy...
After a moment he gave himself a mental shake; he was getting entirely too ahead of himself there. Raiha's reluctance to say anything indicated heavily that she didn't want the deference that was due her station either, something he could somewhat understand. A rank that high, combined with the age she was, no doubt made it difficult to connect with others.
He decided, after a moment, that if it was him, the formality of things would have made it impossible to connect to anyone. Never mind the age, the rank itself would have been allowed to come down as a protective wall, and he would have allowed it to hold everyone at a distance, even those whom he cared for the most.
That situation probably would have broken him. Or anyone else, for that matter. She was plainly made of hardier stuff than most gave her credit for, including himself. She held the title, but discarded the formality of it, refusing to let it separate her from that which she deemed important. In this case, her lovers, and the knowledge in the library and the archives.
It brought up a whole host of new questions for him. Did she have capable administrators for her lands? Did she own a manor house; did she live in the manor house, or was it just a place to store things? Did she care about the rupees her people earned for her? Was she a benevolent ruler or just an in absentia one? How often did she visit, and for what reasons? How did she handle things like potential rebellions?
Thoughts and questions plagued him up until someone swatted him upside the head with a sheaf of papers, making him jump.
"We're breaking for supper now, Scholar Raeleigh," Muriel said, her expression dryly amused. "You may catch up with your fellows. Report back when you're done, if you please, and we'll continue."
"Yes madam," he said, blushing a little as he bowed to her.
His exit from the library was made with more haste than decorum.