Oh, squee!! I told myself that the fun could begin by Chapter 10, and I think I'm actually on schedule for once! And what's more, changing from the Zelda music to a Classic Love Song CD from the American Idol people's helped get the thoughts going.

Many continued thanks to those of you who review, your comments and questions make me more and more eager to get on with the story.

Matters of the State

Chapter 10

Several years ago, during Ganondorf's coup d'etat, Hyrule Castle burned. The damage, thankfully, was not extensive although it robbed us of many fine pieces of ancient art and memorable decoration. In the years following Ganondorf's swift fall from power at Link's hand nearly every stone in the palace has been scrubbed repeatedly in an attempt to rid any ash or char from the walls and floors, the Evil King's final marks.

Thankfully, despite the violence of Ganondorf's take-over and toppling, one of the most difficultly engineered wings of the castle was not damaged. The knowledge of the Water Corridor's construction was lost in the rebellions which ended with my father crowned as king. An entire wing of the castle built below the rest of it in a similar style to the above halls, but completely submerged and comfortably designed for Zora guests. The water is fed into the wing via the river which runs past Castle Town, and a portion of the out-going flow is directed through my garden before joining the rest in the mote and the city water system.

Zora are very much capable of traveling across and living on land. But in the heat of summer or chill of winter it can be dangerous for them; they are not made for the extremes of either hot or cold unless born and bred to it. To ask the Lord Zelos to maintain a room in one of the castle's ordinary halls would boarder on cruel during the more extreme times of year.

For obvious reasons, I've never been able to see the Water Corridor, and normally only the closest few rooms are inhabited by Zelos, King Zora's Ambassador in my father's court.

The large, dome-shaped chamber which leads to the Water Corridor is something I have often visited however. Beautiful stained glass windows with images of Zora and Hylian peoples cooperating glitter in the afternoon sunlight, and in the cool light of the moon the depictions of waves almost seem to roll and sigh like the real thing. As a child I often imagined that this chamber must appear as a large blue soap bubble from the air.

A crescent-shaped strip of floor is left along the side of the room where a number of other nobility such as myself and the Prince Ralph stand waiting. There are stairs before us which lead down into the calm, softly rippling waters of the corridor, which is a number of yards below us and extends out in the direction of the river.

"Wait, you mean, he's actually left?" The Prince whispers as I suppress a sigh and nod to him, watching Ralph puff out his cheeks before letting the breath go. There has been a slight murmuring of voices around us since the summons began to ring throughout the castle perhaps a quarter of an hour ago, so until my father arrives it's alright to speak- albeit quietly.

"He vanished this morning, I even sent Impa to find him and she turned up nothing." I report, somewhat miffed with Link's habits. "Typical of him really, he's never once stayed to see the Princess Ruto." I frown and fold my arms as a sign of my disapproval, yet again I have failed to find a reason for his lack of attendance.

"He didn't really go on orders from Salvin, did he?" This time I shrug, as I wouldn't really know. I am however aware that Impa's frightfully bad mood has finally faded from two days past when running into Ralph and I sopping wet in the halls set her off more than it ought to have. At the time, Link was fortunate enough to be called off by one of Sir Ladekhan's messengers and had to hurry off to either find something dry or appear before my father's commander still sodden from the garden.

"And it is Lord Salvin," I correct absently, "Honestly, I don't see why you and Link don't refer to him properly. Has he wronged either of you? I think not." The Prince merely grumbles.

"I dislike him, that's all, Princess." He replies after a moment more, shrugging slightly as he clasps his hands behind his back and rocks back and forth on his heels as a sign of his growing boredom.

"They should be here soon." I mention, stilling his restless motions as he keeps his hands behind him as though to keep from continued fidgeting. To be honest, I find his manner amusing. "The Oracle must have a terrible time keeping you serious…"

"Princess, have I done yourself and the Hero some grave personal injustice?" He looks away from me as he speaks now, and the taught force behind them as he grits his teeth gives me a sort of sadist satisfaction as he squirms inwardly at the mention of the Oracle.

"None which readily come to mind, no." I answer breezily, taking a moment again to examine the stained glass of the entry chamber.

"Then must you both insist on mentioning her?"

"Mentioning who?"

"…Don't be naïve, you know who." I allow a mischievous smirk to cross my face as he glances to the side in a put-out manner, and I can see him struggling with a fierce blush. He's become so much better at hiding his thoughts since he arrived, but the moment the Oracle Nayru is mentions he completely falls to pieces. He does, however, give me a sidelong and rather dejected look.

"You… you're going to make a terrible wife…" Despite his burning face, I can hear the sarcasm in his words, and bring one gloved hand up over my lips as I stifle a giggle.

"Ah, I am not late it seems." The chamber goes silent as I follow suit with the rest of the other nobility to look towards my father as he enters. Those of us in the chamber each bend knee to him with the rustling of skirts and the flourishes of hands and sleeves. The Prince offers a polite bow with one arm held across his midsection and the other hiding itself behind the back of his Labrynnian blue tunic, and I myself offer a respectful curtsy before stepping forwards to take my father's arm. Swathed in a silken robe of deep sapphire with his ivory cane, the colour compliments my own gown of pale blue and white. So much blue today; the color of Nayru- both the Goddess and the Oracle-, the Zora and Labrynna. I don't doubt that if Link ever actually made an appearance that he'd shuck his normal green attire for the same hue as the rest of us.

"Daughter." He says to me with a nod and a smile, but I notice something odd in his dark eyes, and I almost think I see him looking to me as if taking something in that he hadn't noticed before. Unconsciously, I reach up to touch each of my silver triangle earrings, and to make sure my silver tiara is straight atop my pleated hair, in case it is some flaw in my appearance which garners me the attention. That is not the case it seems, and he breaks out of that momentary stupor without pause before allowing me to dutifully lead him to the water's edge.

"Ah, Prince Ralph, it seems you bear yet more gifts for my people?" My father comments while looking to the Prince where he glances up from speaking to one of his viziers. It's the tall, reedy looking one with the pale, bashful face. In the man's long hands is an unadorned wooden chest; and I can only assume that inside rests Labrynna's tribute to the Princess.

Ralph is spared an answer as my father swiftly raises his hand. My father's eyes quickly look to the somewhat dark waters before us before he turns and straightens himself to stand properly with myself still at his arm. The Prince finishes whatever he was saying to his man very shortly before likewise taking up his now expected position to my father's left.

The Zora have no fire to light their homes and cities in the oceans and the river springs. However, they are gifted with a sort of stone which emits a silvery light so long as it is given ample time in the sun or moonlight. A small chant of only two or three words is used to bring them to life. I don't know whether they also provide warmth, but this light is a sure signal that our guests are finally arriving.

The entrance to the Water Corridor some yards beneath the surface of the water and across the chamber from where we stand is abruptly visible in a soft silvery light. And then the Zora appear. They look as large, sleek lengths of fin and scale when they swim, moving in a school of proposing silver and blue. Like quicksilver fish, a group of about seven or eight enter and begin swimming around the perimeter of the room's sunken bottom causing minor ripples to form across the surface. They are as runners after a marathon, swimming constantly even after reaching their destination to ease their muscles from strain.

The Princess Ruto is easily spotted even through the ripples of the water, as she swims apart from the rest as well as a bit behind. Her own fluid form passes into the chamber from the submerged doorway a moment or two after her entourage. She arrives a bit slower, and instead of circling the room repeatedly as her companions are now finished doing, each one now either lazily floating near the bottom, or sliding easily through the water below as if conversing one another, the Princess approaches the submerged stairs immediately.

Every Zora loses a bit of their natural grace when they leave the water and stand on land, but the Princess Ruto masks the difficulty as her head breaks the surface. Her silvery skin shines as water runs off of her. Strong eyes, a solid navy blue from side to side -but with a light in them which gives the same focus as a human pupil- take in the faces awaiting her as she continues to step out of the pool. As with the case with most Zora, her body is lined with supple muscle which ripples in the patterned light of mid-day through the windows.

Long, elegant fins fall from her elbows in ruffled lengths akin to the sleeves of a flowing gown, patterned along the edges with the white lines of light shining through water. Her head broadens at the back however, unlike most of her people. It's similar to the head of certain breeds of shark I'm told, but it is merely a sign of Ruto's heritage; female Zora of the royal family are normally born with a notably different shape of head. We are the same age now, and I've heard before –often from Zora themselves- that when I begin to reach middle age myself, the Princess's broad cranium will begin to slacken, and will give the illusion of human hair. Well, so I have heard at least, we laughed about it a number of times as children, her and I together.

Clad only in that silver skin but for a number of beaded necklaces fanned across her shoulders and chest, as all Zora are, the Princess is still strikingly decent. Zora and humans share the same general build despite the former being notably more fluid in movement, and lighter in weight. In fact, even female Zora have similar curves as human ones, but, they require not a scrap of clothing to appear modest, if not regal, in appearance.

"Majesty." Ruto says quietly, a smile tugging at her lips before she puts her hands together in front of her legs; luminescent fins coming together from her forearms to once again resemble sleeves as she gives a straight bow to my father. He returns her bow with a nod, and I let go of his arm to perform a curtsy to her before rising and stepping up to her. I cannot help but smile with her, our hands coming up to clasp each other's own in a sign of friendship. Her fingers are cool and strong, and my gloves become a bit wet with the contact, but that is nothing to think on at the moment.

"Cousin," I say, happy to see her again after so long. "It is good to see you again; I trust your journey was a safe one."

"Safe enough, Cousin." She replies, mimicking my expression, light dancing in her dark eyes. "The river remains unblocked this year, and Lake Hylia is healthy. Jabu-Jabu sends his blessing." It is difficult to track a Zora's eye when they look about them without turning their head, but when standing as close as I am to Ruto, I note her eyes drifting across faces. Vaguely, I wonder if it's Link she's looking for, but that notion only lasts as long as it does for her gaze to effectively land and latch onto the Prince Ralph. As swiftly as she can without appearing overtly rude, our hands fall from one another and I blink slightly as the Zora Princess makes a B-line for the flame-haired Prince.

"Do you have my gift this time?" She asks pointedly, hands fisted on her hips and I feel my brows vanish into my hairline. A murmur quickly and near silently rippling through the assembled noble, and Ralph blinks.

"Oh… Princess…" Glancing towards the water again, most of the Zora have risen from the bottom of the pool, their silver heads bobbing in the water with their broad, hawk-like noses, and their own extended craniums which fold back as fish-tails, and I note Lord Zelos now in the water, identifyable only by the frosted-white tunic of light silk which he wears in my father's court. It is one of these Zora who speaks quietly in a sigh, and there are now more of them than before, making their circuit around the bottom before vanishing back into the Corridor court. Servants and other members of her party I would assume.

"It was packed away and down below deck when your party arrived. I didn't have time to fetch it when out at sea." The young Prince, one who normally balks at new faces and avoids attention from the court as best as a guest of honour -who is also still a Prince- can manage, sounds almost familiar with the Princess Ruto as he replies to her. I take a moment before remembering that it's normally the formalities which tie his tongue, and Ruto has cast those aside for the time being.

"Well, is it here now?" Ruto demands, bringing her arms up and, despite the wing-like fins from her elbows, manages to fold them in an annoyed fashion. I stifle a laugh as, as is customary of Ruto, she parcels out a hard glare for the crowd.

"If the Hero of Time still insists on avoiding me, what good is the rest of the formality?" She asks keenly, and I look to my father as he chuckles somewhat behind his beard. I sigh and, giving a small smile towards my friend, resume my position at my father's arm as is proper.

Ralph's gift to her is certainly lovely. Zora, specifically Ruto, are especially partial to jewelry even if it lacks actual jewels. What was once two branches from Labrynna's guardian, the Maku Tree, still baring small green leaves which he promises to her will not wither or rot or fall off, are presented to the future queen in the form of an anklet and a necklace. Well, perhaps anklet is not the appropriate term, a thin sprig of wood bearing leaves, bent and carved into beautiful swirls to mimic waves, spirals around the Princess's calf from nearly to her knee to just above the nub of her ankle. The necklace with its spring-green leaves is nearly lost in the array of beads already around the Princess's neck. There are no repeated admonishments from her entourage as she is so swift to try on her gifts.

"Although the Zora are people of the seas and rivers," Ralph says, watching how Ruto's eyes seem entranced with the wood curled about her leg, "Your waters give life to the prairies, forests, mountains and all the rest of the world. It seemed only appropriate for the leader of one such clan to wear the green of the forests as a tribute from those of us who derive a living from your people's work."

If there was any doubt at all in my mind that Ruto would not be impressed with Ralph, it vanishes completely, and I need to stifle a giggle again at the surprised look from the Zora Princess to the Labrynnian Prince.

I feel old, so dreadfully and pitifully old. Oh, but I would have already retired to bed to simply lie awake in such a dreadfully large but still empty chamber, did I not feel that damnable sense of duty which came to me with my crown. I know the causes of this wretched state as well, but can see no way in which to escape it. Instead, I find myself all by physically bound to this seat within my chambers, staring at the tiled board before me which still holds the pieces from my last game with Salvin. The thief standing triumphantly atop a throne I had thought secure.

The symbolism, however, is inaccurate to describe my current situation. Nor is it related to my distress.

The first source of my troubled thoughts is a woman who remains only in memory now. With golden hair and sapphire eyes which burned with untold passion and strength, yet with the clarity to look beyond earthly riches and bloodline titles. A woman who would deny her own father's claim to a throne his father before him lost to war. And who would then seat atop it the son of a Sage, a man whom should have done little more with his life than hid within the sanctuaries of the Temple of Time in servitude and let the world do as it willed.

Often times I have sat across from Zelda in these chairs looking over the board before me. In more recent years Salvin has come to frequent it, and over the course of the past few weeks the Prince Ralph has also faced me. In this subtle pass time have I learned a good deal about each of my opponents, I have led them through hours of trivial conversation and elicited the most interesting bits of information from their lips. But still, even after all of these years, and so many quiet nights alone with my only child, no one sitting has ever truly compared to hours spent across the board from my wife.

Memories of my departed love are only a part of my current melancholy however. The rest I fear finds its roots within the child whom she gave herself for. I have heard tale that some fathers look upon the children whose births coincided with the deaths of their mothers in distaste. I myself have always found such practices to be abhorrently cruel. For all that I ever have and will treasure my beloved even now that she is gone from me, I would never in my darkest, most twisted dreams, part with my Zelda to have her back. My own revolt at the idea always stops such thoughts long before my wife's own reaction can come into consideration.

It is not in any way my child's behavior which has soured me so over the past few weeks. It is merely… the inevitability of life which force the years to catch up with me in such a painfully unfair array.

I feel that things may be… changing… for Zelda. I do not disapprove of her company despite my mood, for it is of the highest moral character and noble loyalties. It is merely that… when my child, my tiny, twittering little girl… takes his arm and glides through the castle corridors speaking for hours. When I notice the brush of color across his face when he looks away and his focus is lost to his heart, and she likewise is left in calm silence to follow her own thoughts… Endless dances in the hall… When she leads him… alone… into the gardens which her mother planted for herself and I to share with our children…

I feel, so very old… And I can only sit here and wait for the nostalgia to pass; should these developments not be a source of great anticipation for me?

"You called for me, Majesty?"

I look towards his voice as Salvin gracefully makes his way towards me from the doorway. His teal clothing has a metallic sheen to it as he moves, light from the nearby windows illuminating his white and blue form as he makes his bow, golden locks catching the warm rays.

"…What news have you now?" I say, allowing the question whose answer I dread so dearly to pass my lips. I close my eyes only to momentarily regret my blindness as I can hear a subtle grin in Salvin's words. Oh-so smug he sounds…

"Attracted through the crowd to one another, standing lost in their words… You Majesty's presence was likely what started them from this state, although I'm sure you still bore witness…" I grumble lowly in my chest, although to no avail. Tender gazes and untold truths…

"Age can be a crushing burden to an old man such as I…" I grumble softly, although I am hardly aware of my words. My shoulder aches from the strain of a sword years silent in my chambers. My knee pains me even as I sit here, recalling a fall from horseback which jarred it from its place when my mind was painted too deep a red for the pain to even register. Oh, but I feel as though I were an ancient relic of stone!

"A pity that the Hero of Time was -once again- not in attendance for the Princess's arrival." Salvin comments smoothly, as though to ignore my comment, or perhaps simply to attempt to remove my mind from its current downward spiral. I merely give a near-silent huff in my seat as a reply.

"The rumors say that he left on your order, Salvin." I say, and in my low mood I regretfully make it sound as though it were an accusation. Not to say that I doubt the rumors; merely that I see no harm in giving a reason to the Hero's odd tendency to vanish whenever the future Zora Queen visits. However… that does not change the fact that the Hero of Time is my knight, not Salvin's to order about as he wishes. I soundly crush the weak voice in my own mind which points out the sacrilege of ordering Farore's Chosen around at all…

"I made a request of his services, it is true, Majesty. But I had not thought he would rush off so boldly!" Salvin does not await an invitation before taking his seat across from me, although, again, in my current state I feel an inkling of disapproval for this breach in conduct. I open my eyes a slight as I try to will these unpleasant feelings away, although they seem disinclined to accommodate me.

"…Are you still so embittered over his selection of gifts for the Princess Ruto?" I ask drearily, telling myself that I am attempting to banish my melancholy with a jibe at my young friend. He bristles at the comment, and my lips tug up in a slight smile behind my beard.

"A stone chest for one Princess, tokens from the Great Maku tree for the one who kneels to the first." He replies sourly, and I chuckle lowly at how distraught he seems over the developing situation, especially given his intense dislike for the Prince.

"I seem to recall, Salvin, that Zelda's stone chest was also lined with grooves along which the Maku Tree spread her branches. I find the two to be on equal grounds. What he said was true after all." I watch him seethe, and feel my low mood abate, if only slightly.

"A messenger arrived today from Darunia, Majesty. I thought it best to wait until after the Princess and her entourage had settled themselves into the Water Corridor before giving it to you." I lift one brow questioningly as Salvin stands and rummages about his person before withdrawing a piece of thick, crudely made parchment and handing it to me. Several hands across, creased and wrinkled along the edges; Gorons are not known for their ability with writing. They are beings of earthly song and bold dance for their messages, pounding their lore into Din's own red mountains. The seal, I am please to see, is unbroken, and remains so only for as long as it takes me to jam my thumb under it, disregarding Salvin's half-hearted comment of using a letter opener for the task.

From habit developed years ago in a time when I was not so soundly atop my throne, I take the good measure to purposefully tear the red-wax seal once I remove it from the parchment. Unfolding the crude paper, I sigh slightly and adjust my position in my chair, reading over the words before me all the while. This leads, of course, to a few moments of silence as I re-read, consider, and finish with the letter.

"That Darunia has been delayed is evident due to how unshaken my castle remains in his absence." I announce, watching Salvin who is still standing before me, hands now clasped behind his back, waiting to hear what I have to say.

"It seems something of great importance has come up high within the mountains of the north east. Word has come to him from Goron Tribes near Labrynna, and a summit, if you would, has been called. He sends his deep regrets that he will not likely return by the date the Prince has set to take his leave."

"Which is, sometime by midsummer, correct, Majesty?" The hopeful look in Salvin's eyes, for one reason or another, seems to bring the melancholy up once more within me. And I slump within my seat once more.

"Aye, yes, that is the time." I answer, folding the letter between my hands as I consider its words one final time. I should have this sent to Cor Doma; he may have already spoken to the Goron messenger who delivered this letter to begin with considering his absence from the Water Corridor earlier today. But it could spark any number of rumors about the castle, and in any light with-holding it without cause is simply bad manners.

"Forgive my impudence, Majesty, but I am so greatly relieved to hear you say that…" Salvin replies and I huff again in my seat. However, little by little, my mood is improving. He makes to relax more into his seat, and I can see his thoughts begin to drift slightly through his mint-green eyes.

Perhaps I ought to take this time to pick his brain through a good match. Although the Prince Ralph does take up a fair amount of lady's gossip within the castle, there are still plenty of other interesting little rumors fluttering through the air like spring butterflies. Perhaps one of the more amusing tidbits I have come across since the Prince's arrival is the tendency for a certain auburn-haired young thing to cross Salvin's path more times in a day than is strictly necessary.

"However… the presence of such heavy hearts and lingering glances will be a true shame…"

My mood, which has been on such a steady upward climb since Salvin first entered, comes crashing down around me in a surprisingly violent manner. At his words and their implications, my melancholy mind tumbles down into a state of livid revolt. Perhaps the worse part of my behaving this way is the fact that I cannot explain why it is so! I should be happy with how things are going. I should be supportive. I should be looking to the future from atop my throne, content to chide the young folk around me with a goblet of my own wine in my hand in place of a sword I am too feeble now with age to even consider using, never mind that I have nothing to use it on!

"You are dismissed, Salvin." I say shortly and abruptly, one of my hands having tightened its hold on my chair when his words so suddenly riled me into this wretched temper. I close my eyes to hide whatever violent emotions are flashing through them, blocking out Salvin's well-hidden look of surprise, if not shock at my reaction. It is only after they are closed that I suddenly realize a fatal flaw in this move.

For the past weeks or so, Salvin has been keeping to himself in a way which does not truly worry me, but which still requires an awareness of. Once or twice in our friendly talks has something I cannot recognize enter his eyes. The only reason that I have not yet identified whatever it is remains simply because I have not yet been able to catch a good, solid look at it when he allows his feelings to show. It is always so brief, appearing as he turns his head, or I look away, or just as someone interrupts us.

Or just now, when I closed my eyes.

I leave them shut, needless to say, as by now that flash of unmentionable emotion is gone. It is now covered up by his skilled abilities at hiding his thoughts and feelings until they are safe to show. The fact that I once again missed an opportunity to learn something from him, and that I find myself more and more falling into his trapping words whereas before I would see them long in coming… it only serves to feed my growing anger. I have not felt so deep a stirring in many years, perhaps not even since the rebellion of the Dark King which left me powerless within my own keep. It is an angle of my character which I detest completely, yet still it at times may rear its ugly head within me.

I hear Salvin excuse himself for overstaying his welcome, his boots tapping the carpet before the doors open, close, and he is gone. I open my eyes only after the sound of the latches catching fades as an echo through my so very empty chambers. That anger, that blacker angle, I force it down, down and away, attempting vainly to reason out my own emotions, to dredge myself up from this well of complete disparity. And yet there is nothing which may shake me of it!

That look in Salvin's eyes… I sit in my seat, eyes boring into the game board before me, that Thief standing atop the throne, my child in secluded gardens all alone…

I feel old, so dreadfully and pitifully old.

An awkward ending to an odd chapter, I'll admit. I didn't intend originally to have Ruto in here, but thought I might as well since the idea of the sunken corridor came up a long time ago and amused me to no end. Thought I might as well give it a go.