Zelda woke with an undignified snort, her neck aching. She pushed herself up, off her desk, dismayed to see a small puddle of saliva marring the parchment that contained her notes on the stranger. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, peering blearily at the timepiece on the mantle above the fire.

It was the seventh hour of morning. An hour before she was due to begin her duties.

"So, you're finally awake," came a voice.

Zelda turned, wincing as the movement twinged her neck. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I advised you sleep, Zelda, and you preferred to write your notes." Impa approached, her eyes bright and irritatingly alert. "I thought it best to let you sleep where you did, instead of waking you to move you to your bed."

"I wish you had woken me," Zelda grumbled, stretching again, rolling her neck from side to side. "I want a bath."

Impa bowed and moved for the bathroom. Soon, the sounds of running water broke the stillness of the reception room. Zelda rose, tenderly probing her neck and shoulders, and moved into the bathroom, which was gradually filling with steam. Impa helped her out of her fine, if wrinkled dress, and into the hot water. She soaped her back and washed her hair, her strong fingers working the tension out of her shoulders. After a moment, Zelda began to relax, the hot water soothing in the stillness of the white-tiled room.

"What is my agenda for today?" she asked sleepily, the water sloshing as she moved her hands across the surface.

Impa produced a list from underneath her cloak.

"You have a council meeting in an hour, and then you are to listen to the commons and their grievances," Impa declared. "After which," she paused. "You have a free afternoon to do as you would. I recommend you catch up on your sleep."

"I have too much to do," Zelda said, her eyelids drooping as she slumped against the side of the bath.

"Zelda," Impa's voice was stern. "I have just told you that you have a free afternoon."

"I would meet with the stranger," Zelda said. "I think it would be proper to introduce myself, and get an understanding of what she is."

Impa sighed.

"As you wish," she said, and dumped a pitcher of water on Zelda's head.

XXXXXXX

Dry and dressed in a fine, blue gown, Zelda paced the corridor outside the council chambers. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. She would eat later. There was too much to do. At last, she heard the sound of voices, her council wandering up the corridor. Zelda quickly turned the handle of the door and slipped inside, sweeping to the head of the enormous table and settling in the ornate chair.

She steepled her fingers and composed herself as the council trickled in, each bowing to her as they came and took their seats. A servant slid around the table, pouring goblets of wine and placing platters of pastries and cakes before the nobles, who immediately began to peck at the food like so many hungry keese. The remnants of breakfast were still on General Balla's moustache.

A servant offered her a plate of the finest finger foods, and Zelda waved her away impatiently, her gaze on her notes.

As the nobles settled, Zelda ran through the agenda, ordering her thoughts.

"Welcome," she said, her voice soft, yet cutting through the murmuring and munching with the efficiency of a knife. "Thank you all for coming."

She took a breath.

"We have had no reports of any further hostilities from monsters on the road, and we believe any intelligent or mobilised forces to be scattered. General Balla, you have my thanks. Your soldiers and knights have done well."

Balla waved a meaty hand. "It was Ser Link who did most of the hard work," he rumbled. "Though my lads did well in the clean-up."

Zelda nodded. "Hyrule's recovery is all but completed. Llewellyn, how are the outlying villages coping now?"

Slim and bespectacled, the man stirred.

"Better now than a year ago, Highness. We should be able to cease aid packages within a few months. The villages and towns are self-sufficient, more or less. The crops are flourishing, the herding animals breeding well again. We should have recovered our losses in another few years, if things remain this good."

Zelda offered a quick prayer to Hylia to make it so. "Have their defences been fortified?"

"Well enough. With the enduring peace, we have time to recover our own monetary losses. The treasury is looking somewhat bare, your Highness."

Zelda bit her lip. "What are our plans to recover funds?"

Councillor Trebon spoke up, his voice a low drone. Within moments, Zelda found herself tuning out as he prattled on about raising the commons taxes by an "appropriate" amount, and trading with the surrounding countries. She forced herself to pay attention, but found it increasingly difficult as Llewellyn's words repeated in her mind.

Enduring peace.

Enduring peace.

Zelda shook herself.

"Thank you," she said, cutting off Trebon was a raised hand. "I must now confess, I did have an ulterior motive for calling this meeting. There appears to be a new strangeness in Hyrule, and we all must be vigilant in the times to come."

Mutters broke out around the table, a low buzzing like that of bees from a cautious hive. Not yet angry, but all it would take was one misplaced foot for them to swarm. Zelda did not miss the dark looks that passed between the members of her council, nor did she miss the looks that were passed her way when the culprit believed her gaze was elsewhere.

"Is this to do with the new woman Ser Link is escorting?" Lady Cassandra asked, her puffy hands clasped over her round stomach. Her frilly pink gown made her look like a melting cake, Zelda thought. She took a moment to consider the implications of her answer before speaking.

"It is. The woman has arrived in Hyrule under… mysterious circumstances, and I myself have found a prophecy that suggests new times of trouble will soon befall Hyrule." Zelda said, carefully.

"Execute the stranger," General Balla barked, to murmurs of agreement from around the table.

"No," Zelda said, raising her hands again. This time, the council took longer to quieten. "She has given us no cause for concern, and his Grace the King has requested she not be harmed unless cause is given."

Councillor Trebon sat back in his chair, grasping his goblet of wine. His cheeks were already ruddy in the morning light.

"Your Highness," he began. "How are we to trust in this prophecy?"

Zelda raised her hand, presenting the back of it to the council. "My triforce tells me that the prophecy is true."

"And she's not dead why?" Balla said. "The last time a stranger came to Hyrule, we were all doused in twilight!"

"I have already told you," Zelda replied, coolly, choosing to ignore the general's implication. "Whilst my father does not believe in the prophecy, I believe we may be due difficult times. We do not know if this stranger will be the cause of the trouble, is simply an indicator that it is coming, or has nothing to do with it whatsoever. We must prepare ourselves."

"For what?" Lady Cassandra said. "Do you know what trouble will come?"

"I do not," Zelda admitted.

"Do not think my words to be accusatory," Councillor Trebon said, in a tone that held every ounce of blame. "But the last time this happened, Hyrule entered a war that we are still recovering from."

Zelda felt her cheeks grow hot. Nearly a decade had passed, and yet they still could not let go of her mistake. The vultures took every opportunity to throw the failure of a teenager thrust upon the throne back in her face. She raised her chin defiantly, refusing to be baited.

"We must prepare. We must build up our supplies, and gather our resources. We must send word to the farms to send us what they can from their crop, to store in case of famine. We must construct giant barrels to store water, in case of drought. We must…"

Zelda listed her precautionary measures, watching the council to ensure they paid attention. Llewellyn, as ever, scratched detailed notes as she spoke. As she finished, the council began to chatter and bicker amongst themselves, arguing over who would take on what task, and how. Llewellyn shook his head, running his finger along his notes.

"It will be expensive," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the clatter of voices. "Princess, how would we afford this?"

Zelda shook her head. "You are the head Treasurer," she replied. Llewellyn grimaced.

"Hyrule has not enough to trade, and less to bargain," he said. "It is too soon after the Twilight Crisis. We are not recovered enough to fight off an unknown threat." He shuffled his papers. "We can afford to take one or two precautionary measures, Highness, but not all of them. The outlying towns and villages would not be sufficiently protected, if we are to bolster our own defences. This task would be impossible without outside aid."

Zelda closed her eyes for a fraction longer than a blink. "Aid such as?"

"Marriage," Lady Cassandra said, instantly. "You are not yet wed, your Highness. A suitable husband could bolster our resources and protect us from whatever it is we must face."

"Yes," Lord Arran said. He was a short, yet burly man, with a curled little beard and three fingers on his left hand. "A suitable marriage would be prudent at this time."

Zelda clenched her fists under the table. "I am aware."

"We could do with a new King," Lady Cassandra mused aloud.

"My father is not yet dead," Zelda said, coldly, and the council glanced at her nervously.

"I apologise, that was not my implication," Lady Cassandra said, in a tone that offered no apology whatsoever. "I simply meant that we would all feel a little better if we knew there was someone ready to take the throne once he has passed on."

"I will take the throne," Zelda said. "Whatever husband I choose will rule by my side, not in my stead."

The council shared glances between themselves. Zelda waited, her pulse fluttering in her throat. Her jaw was clenched so tightly she feared she may crack a tooth.

"Has… has your Highness chosen a suitor?" Llewellyn asked.

"I have the matter in hand." Zelda replied.

"You must choose a husband who is wealthy," Councillor Trebon announced.

"A good army is what we need," General Balla remarked.

"A handsome face makes for handsome children," Lady Cassandra said, wistfully.

"Strong borders and good resources," Lord Yorrel said.

"Enough!" Zelda cried. The council went silent, staring at her. She took a steadying breath. "I will choose my husband in due course. Do not think I do not consider the country when I do so."

She rose from the table, suddenly weary. The council rose with her, and she felt their eyes crawling over her skin. She felt exposed, naked under their stares, like a prized pig in the market, ready to be bartered off for the best price.

"Do as I have bid and protect Hyrule," she said "Lest I seek financial aid from your own coffers." With that, she swept from the room.

Outside, she leaned against the wall and drew a shaky breath. She knew the subject of marriage would rise, as it had done at the last three meetings. But now they had true cause to push that particular agenda. Now that there was a storm brewing, and Hyrule could not adequately defend itself, she must choose a husband, and soon.

And yet…

Zelda sighed. No. She could not think of it now. She had other matters to attend to.

"Impa," she said, as she began to walk. In seconds, her aide was beside her.

"Send word to Link. I wish to meet with this stranger after I have dealt with the commons. Have them meet me in the Green Study in the East Wing."

"As you will," Impa said, and quickened her stride, overtaking the princess and vanishing through a side door. Zelda kept her own, slow pace, her feet almost dragging on the purple carpets. With each step, the throne room drew closer, and Zelda wanted nothing more than to head back to her chambers and have a nice, long bath, perhaps with a small glass of wine, a punnet of strawberries and fresh cream…

All too soon, she arrived at the throne room. She closed her eyes and straightened her shoulders. Two hours. That was all she would do today.

XXXXXXX

Zelda arrived at the Green Study three and a half hours later, hot and irritable. No matter how she tried to escape, the commons just. Kept. Complaining. As if she didn't have enough to worry about, without concerning herself with farmland boundaries of half a foot, or a cheating wife, or a stolen piglet.

Yet, she had dealt with the problems in the only way a princess could, with decorum, and with a fair hand. She had justly degreed that the half-foot was to be halved again and shared if the two bordering farmers would not agree, that the cheating wife was to be divorced, and the stolen piglet's worth in rupees be returned to the owner, whilst the thief would be placed in the stocks for a week.

Her brows lowered. And yet more of them came forward, with ridiculous things they could have solved themselves, or just pure nonsense surely designed to waste her time. The hysterical woman ranting about a dragon spotted over Death Mountain did not bode well, but she pushed the matter aside. General Balla had sent out soldiers to investigate, and she would not concern herself with such matters until she had proof in her hands.

She smoothed down her hair and fanned her warm cheeks. Link and the stranger would already be inside. She wished she had a mirror.

Zelda opened the door, the heavy wood dragging on the plush green carpet, as green as the forests to the south. The walls were also green, as was the furniture. Three long sofas sat in the middle of the room, angled to face each other, and on one of them sat Link, Navi at his shoulder, his tunic matching the décor beautifully. He was facing away from her, the beginnings of a smile forming on his lips as he looked to the stranger, Thoria.

She was dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, the colours muted and autumnal. The colours seemed to make her black hair seem even darker, and her eyes were a startling, almost luminous green.

In the split second it took for them to notice her, Zelda wondered if the line of prophecy about the dark fairy had really being about the fae at all.

But Link had seen her. He jumped to his feet and bowed, beckoning for Thoria to do the same. She looked confused for a moment, before noticing the princess with a blink and a smile, before she, too, was on her feet and bowing.

"Curtsey!" Zelda heard Link hiss.

"No!" Thoria hissed back. "It looks stupid."

"Ladies curtsey," Link muttered, as Zelda began her slow approach. She smiled at his charming discomfort.

"Be seated," Zelda said, lowering herself onto the sofa opposite, resisting the urge to sigh as the weight left her feet. Navi left Link's shoulder and flitted to Zelda's, settling her small, warm weight just below her earlobe. Link and Thoria took their places at either end of the sofa before her. Link threw a glance at the dark-haired woman, but Thoria was staring, quite unashamedly at Zelda.

The princess turned her full attention on the stranger.

"Thoria, is it? I am glad to see you have recovered well."

"Thank you, your Majesty," Thoria replied, her voice soft and strangely accented. Zelda smiled.

"It's 'your Highness,'" she said. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

She watched the other woman closely. All present knew that she had no choice in the matter. Her reaction would speak volumes.

Thoria, simply smiled, her expression one of eager curiosity. After a beat, she said "S'alright." Link winced.

"You are unfamiliar with our customs, I take it?" Zelda said, graciously. She looked to Link. "What have you been teaching her?"

"Whatever I can, your Highness," Link replied. He cast another look at the stranger, who returned it with a look of polite befuddlement.

"That is good. If Thoria is to remain with us in Hyrule she should learn the way of things," Zelda said pleasantly.

"She learns quickly," Link said. "And reads a lot."

"And is also sitting right here," Thoria chimed in. Link balked, but Zelda laughed.

"You speak your mind freely," she said, as Thoria folded her hands in her lap. "This is refreshing. I understand you have been spending a lot of time in the castle library?"

"Yes, as much time as I can."

"What do you read?"

"Whatever I can." Thoria said, with a smile. Link glared, and she added a quick "your Highness." This time, Zelda's smile was forced. Her lack of courtesy did not seem deliberate, but it was irritating.

"I am pleased that you are using your time… constructively," she said, as silence filled the room. "I am sure you will learn all there is to know about Hyrule if you read as quickly as Link says you do."

Thoria nodded, once. Zelda leaned forward.

"I shall not mince my words. You came to Hyrule through a break in the sky, and Link tells me you have few memories. So, tell me. What do you remember?"

"Very little, in truth," Thoria said, with a small shrug. Zelda noticed her ankles were crossed under her skirt, like a lady of the court. "I am sure that everything I have told Link, he's told you, your Maj- your Highness."

"You are correct," Zelda said. "But I asked you," she continued, with the slightest hint of reprimand in her voice. Thoria blinked, and a change came over her face. It was an expression Zelda had seen a precious few times before. It was the delicious moment when a commoner suddenly realised just who it was they were addressing, suddenly felt the power in the room with them, and began to behave accordingly. It was not something she should indulge in, Zelda reminded herself, but after numerous council meetings with fops who did not truly respect her, it was a welcome treat to be reminded of her position.

Thoria began to speak, her eyes focused somewhere to the right of Zelda's ear.

"All I remember of coming here is being in a white, bright room, and then I was falling," she said. "I remember waking up, wet, and Link standing over me. Then I woke up in the castle. I don't know who I am or how I got here, least of all how to get home. That's all, your Highness,"

"What do you remember of your homeland? Link has said you remember some things."

"Nothing tangible, your Highness," Thoria said. "The way the streets looked, the houses. Some snippets of history. Not much."

"Tell me of this… amnesia you have suffered. Link said you have a special name for it."

"Selective retrograde amnesia," Thoria said, instantly. "The loss of certain memories, most often relating to personal aspects of life, typically caused by sudden trauma or injury."

Zelda nodded, slowly. "Tell me, Thoria. How is it that you know things such as this, but not your own name?"

Thoria shrugged. "I don't know."

Zelda waited, but Thoria did not expand on her statement. Link glanced anxiously between the two of them.

"I think Thoria's telling the truth," he said. Zelda could indeed detect no hint of a lie from the strange woman before her. She was different, yes, but so were the Gerudo, and the Gorons, and the Zora. She was simply a stranger in a strange land, as Link had said before. But something still rankled her.

"Thoria," Zelda said. "I would request that you educate yourself on the histories, traditions and culture of Hyrule. As you say, you do not know how you got here, or how to get home. My greatest Sheika are as of now investigating Lake Hylia, where you were found. While they do this, you should learn how to be a part of our land."

"Okay," Thoria said.

"We will search for a way to send you back," Zelda said, feeling in her gut that this was the right thing to do. Sending her home would surely stop the darkness before it arrived. "And in the meantime, integrate yourself. Link will continue to guard you until we have found a way to return you to your lands."

"What about the prophecy?" Navi whispered in her ear, her voice barely audible over the tiny tinkling of her wings.

"She does not need to know," Zelda breathed back, her lips barely moving. Link watched them both, his face expressionless, whilst Thoria nodded, a hopeful smile on her lips.

"I don't know what to say, except thank you," she said. "You have welcomed me into your land, your home, and have offered me help. I cannot begin to express how much I miss my home, and how much I long to be there. I appreciate it. Your Highness."

Zelda smiled. "Good. I am sure we can find some sort of work for you to do in the meantime. Link, I will leave that up to you."

"Yes, your Highness."

The conversation had naturally drawn to a close. Zelda looked between the two of them again. Link was stoic and quiet, but Zelda knew the set of his shoulders, the way he was balancing his weight on the balls of his feet. He was restless, he wanted to leave. But he would not, not without her word. A cruel and curious part of her wanted to know just how long he would wait, but she knew the answer. He would stay where he was until she gave him his leave, even if it was in two days from now.

He seemed to be on edge. She knew and he knew what was coming later that night. Her heart fluttered nervously. Would he hate her for it? She fought to keep her face impassive. She dreaded to think of the pain he would be in, and wondered if he was thinking of it too, fretting on it like she was. Or was he simply embarrassed by Thoria's lack of grace? She could not tell from his face.

Thoria, however, was more obvious in her restlessness. She crossed and recrossed her ankles, rubbing her thumb over her other wrist, and glancing about the room. Zelda smiled, and then Thoria turned her eyes on her. In that brief moment, that lasted no longer than half-a-heartbeat, Zelda felt an all-encompassing dread settle into her very bones. It was almost physical in its strength, and she recoiled. But then the moment was gone, and Thoria blinked, gave a slightly goofy, awkward smile, and looked away again. There was nothing but the echo of trepidation, so faint in her mind that Zelda suddenly doubted that it had ever been there in the first place. She rose, perturbed, and the others rose as well.

"You have my leave," she said, and swept from the room. Navi remained at her shoulder, clinging to her braid as she went.

Zelda said nothing as she headed for her chambers, longing for a hot bath and a strong glass of wine. Navi chattered in her ear, bemoaning the day she had endured, sitting bored in the library whilst Thoria read and Link watched her. Zelda's mind was elsewhere, running back over and over again to the moment where she touched her eyes to the stranger's, and with each remembering, she went cold all over.

Reaching her chambers, Zelda kicked off her shoes and stretched. She hoped that, in the stress of running the kingdom, and her fear over the prophecy, that her mind had simply conjured something that wasn't there. Only time would tell.