In the famous words of Elton John, the bitch is back! Sorry it's been so long, but we wound up having to drop ev-er-y-thing and move on, like, a five-day turnaround. It was ROUGH. Then there was unpacking time, and getting settled in, but now we're in and mostly unpacked.
Even though things are reopening now (and I'm in a state that's reopening), I'd like to remind you all to please stay inside— unless you're a frontline worker or you're out demonstrating. In which case, please wear your masks, wash your hands, and please please please stay safe.
As for tonight's work of madness… screw it. I'M WRITING A WEDDING. BECAUSE I CAN.
Ready? Set? Here we go!
Zelda swallowed thickly and clutched her bouquet of flowers more tightly as she looked in the mirror. Her hands were shaking. She wanted to throw up.
"Calm down or you'll sweat through your pretty white dress," Midna ordered. "Imagine how that would look in the photos. Tch. Tacky."
The countess looked cool and composed as always, utterly unafraid of the immaculate, snow-white bridesmaid's dress she wore. The pristine lace looked like lingerie against the duchess' gorgeously tanned skin; on Zelda, it just looked like a frilly nightgown. A frilly nightgown that she would probably stain within twenty minutes, and that she would accidentally rip if she breathed on it. How was that fair?
"Remind me why I agreed to this again," Zelda muttered unhappily, clenching and unclenching her hands around her spray of white anemones, ranunculus, lily-of-the-valley, and eucalyptus.
"Because you love Paya and you want her to be happy, and you knew that being her maid-of-honor will make her happy."
"Making other people happy is overrated," Zelda muttered.
"Hush," Midna ordered as the door to the restroom opened. Paya emerged, chest heaving as she exhaled in relief.
"Whew," she said. "Nothing worse than jitter-bladder. Do I look alright? Did I get my dress back on properly?"
"You look perfect, of course," Midna reassured their friend. And it was true: the cascades of beaded and embroidered organza (so much organza!) looked unruffled by Paya's ablutions, and the beaded bodice was still firmly in place. Paya made a stunning bride in her frost-white gown, her silvery hair pulled into a romantic, wavy style that was made all the more striking by the golden, diamond-studded tiara she wore atop her head.
"Great," Paya said. "Is it time to start?" This last was addressed to the assistant who stood in the corner, looking completely unruffled in her peony-pink pantsuit.
"Just about, Lady Paya," the assistant confirmed.
"Great," Paya said. "Go fetch my mother, will you? I'm sure she's off terrifying some diplomat or businessman or politician."
"Yes, ma'am." The assistant ducked out of the room and Zelda turned to her friend, awed.
"Who are you and what have you done with our meek little wallflower friend?"
Paya shrugged, the straps of her beaded bodice sliding elegantly across her pale shoulders.
"Do you know how much money Mother has thrown at this shindig? I'm not going to mess it up by being nervous. Also, really the only thing that matters is the fact that I'm marrying Granté. I can deal with the rest as long as it means that I'm his wife at the end of the day."
Zelda tried not to feel wistful. What must it be like, loving someone that much?
"And you don't have to worry about paparazzi," Paya added. "Mother has very carefully screened the photographers who are allowed, and the security for the venue is being provided by the best man's company."
"He got back on time, did he?" Midna asked, perking up.
"Flew back from some super-secret military contractor thing in Termina late last night, but yes. He's here."
Zelda opened her mouth to ask if the aforementioned 'super-secret military contractor thing' had anything to do with what her father had lectured her about over breakfast this morning— something about a compound, a handful of diplomats, and a very large canon— but thought the better of it. Paya probably wasn't privy to state secrets like that, even though her mother (a very famous lady knight) was the Captain of the Prime Minister's Guard. Impa was Papa's most trusted employee for a reason. She kept her secrets well.
Truthfully, Zelda was surprised Impa had given her blessing for Paya to marry another of the Imperial Guard. She'd thought the terrifying Captain would want Paya to have a different kind of life. But Granté was a rising star in the Guard, from what Zelda understood. Oh, he wasn't Captain material, but Impa seemed to trust him, and coming from Impa, trust was a lot.
As Impa entered the bridal suite, Zelda heard the first chords of music from outside.
"It's starting," Impa said. Her red eyes took in Paya from top to toe. Then she nodded once, the motion brisk and economical. "You look good."
From Impa, that was practically effusive praise. Zelda blinked in surprise.
"Thanks," Paya said, utterly unruffled by her mother's uncharacteristic compliment. "As do you." Although she was the mother of the bride, nothing about Impa's attire screamed "frumpy" or "middle aged." The swan-thin warrior wore a simple sheath in a rich, royal blue, trimmed very tastefully with gold. It was sleek and form-fitting and Zelda was absolutely sure that there were still weapons concealed all about the terrifying Sheikah's person. Those ruby earrings she wore probably concealed poison or something.
"It's time, now, ladies," the assistant said, slipping back into the room. "Countess, you first. Then you, Princess."
Zelda and Midna slid through the doorway into the vestibule outside the ceremony site. There, the groomsmen waited to escort them down the aisle.
Sheik let out a low whistle.
"Damn, sis, you clean up."
"Shut up," Zelda fired back halfheartedly. She looked from her brother to the other man who stood beside him. He was unfamiliar, but mercy, he was handsome: perfectly tousled blonde hair, muscles she could see even through his well-tailored tuxedo, and the most piercing blue eyes she'd ever seen.
"You must be Link," Zelda said after a moment. "The best man."
"And you must be Princess Zelda," said best man responded. "The maid of honor."
"Link was just telling me about some gig he just got back from in Termina," Sheik said with all the dignity of a retriever puppy and none of the dignity of the prince he was. "He got to shoot an Edge of Duality-model bazooka."
"Firearms," Zelda said faintly as the first notes of the wedding processional echoed through the door. "Lovely." She took Link's arm, unable to help but noticing that, yup, he had muscles for days.
"Oh, do act with a little decorum, Prince," Midna said as she looped her own arm through Sheik's. "You're walking me down the aisle. Try to look worthy of the honor."
"Isn't the honor yours, since you're only a Countess and I'm a Prince of the Blood?"
"No," Midna told him. "People care about me more than they care about you. Therefore, the honor is yours. Don't trip," she added. Then the doors before them opened, and sunlight flooded in as they stepped through.
Zelda and Link stepped forward. As her eyes adjusted to the light outside, she was able to see the aisle— the long, long aisle— and all those faces turned towards her. Her hand convulsively tightened on Link's arm and he surprised her by leaning in.
"Stage fright?" He asked in an undertone.
"I've never cared much for crowds," she said. "Usually when I have to give public addresses, I leave my contacts out." Midna and Sheik had made it halfway down the aisle, and now it was their turn. They stepped into the evening sunshine, warm and golden, and Zelda took in the sight of the beautiful garden that Paya was getting married in. "Odd, isn't it? A princess with stage fright?"
"It's a little comforting to know you're just like the rest of us ordinary folk," Link told her.
"Not really," Zelda murmured as they made their way forward. "I've never shot a bazooka, for one."
That surprised him enough that he chuckled. The sound warmed Zelda straight through from her head to her toes, and she found herself relaxing a bit.
"I don't suppose you were the one who lead the raid on that Terminian compound yesterday?" Zelda asked him, feeling very brave.
"It was actually early this morning," Link corrected her. "And it was a rescue mission, not a raid. How did you hear about that?"
Well, while they were divulging state secrets in the middle of Paya's wedding, might as well throw it all in, Zelda figured. "Just because Sheik is the eldest and the son doesn't automatically mean he's the heir."
She glanced up at his face in time to see his reaction: Nothing more than a minute quirk of the brow.
"A queen with stage fright," Link said after a moment. "Comforting thought."
And then they were at the end of the aisle, and parted ways, and Zelda realized that it had never been so easy to be in the public eye before.
Food for thought.
As a Princess, Zelda was naturally in the spotlight more than she'd have liked, but still not enough to outshine Paya. And truly, Paya was almost impossible to outshine: She was absolutely radiant with joy, and (naturally) gorgeous in her gigantic confection of a wedding dress. Granté was likewise the happiest Zelda had ever seen him, although of all the Imperial Guard, he was by far the most jovial, and had even been known to crack jokes.
"I wish I'd been able to spend more time in the lead-up to this," Link confided in Zelda during dinner. They'd been seated at a table just for the wedding party: Link and Zelda on one side of the happy couple, Midna and Sheik on the other. And with Paya and Granté utterly lost in each other, Zelda's only real conversational companion was Link.
"It's a hazard of being a contractor," Zelda guessed. "Right? You're at the whims of your employers."
"Sad but true." Link clinked her glass with his. "I'd have liked to get to know Paya better. She seems to make Granté happy."
"They make each other happy," Zelda said. "It's sweet."
"It is." Link took a drink of his champagne, then studied her. "Tell me. In your unbiased opinion, what's the Imperial Guard like?"
Zelda blinked in surprise.
"Effective at their jobs," was the first thing she said. "Capable. Competent."
"And the people who work for the Guard?"
"Care about what they do," Zelda said. "But they're able to do more than just work. They have families. Case in point." She nodded at Impa, who was sitting stone-faced between her elder sister and the father of the groom, who were both jabbering and gesticulating wildly. She turned back to Link. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm tired of the Commando life," he told her. "Nearly missing your best friend's wedding will make you re-evaluate things. And I just got a job offer."
A… a job offer?
"For the Guard," Zelda filled in. "When?"
"Just before the ceremony," Link said. "The Captain prowled up to me and told me that now that I was back, she planned to keep me from leaving again. It would appear she's looking for a replacement to groom."
A… a replacement? Zelda hadn't known that Impa wanted to retire. But then again, the Sheikah woman was getting older, and she'd been Captain for more than thirty years.
"Oh," Zelda said faintly.
"What do you think?" Link asked her. "Should I take the offer?"
Should he take the offer? Yes! Her mind screamed. No! Screamed the rest of her. He was too handsome, too distracting… Having him this close to her day in and day out, shadowing her every move, or her father's every move… It would be torture.
"If you want," Zelda said faintly. "Although you likely won't have many chances to shoot bazookas."
"That's alright," Link said affably. "Shooting large firearms is overrated."
That surprised her. "Really?"
He grinned. "No, not really. But it's something I'd be willing to trade for stability. And…"
He looked at her, and the look made her mouth dry up. It was hot, evaluating, and made her want to tear his clothes off with her teeth.
"And?" She asked weakly.
"And I'm finding that you're nothing like I imagined royals would be," Link admitted. "I'd heard stories from Granté, of course, but having met you…" He smirked. "Let's just say I have a new appreciation for the future of the crown."
It was Zelda's turn to arch a brow.
"Are you saying I make you want to stick around?" She asked, feeling very bold.
"You make me want to keep you out of trouble," Link said, and now the flirting was unmistakable— as was the desire in his eyes. "Or get you into it. Take your pick."
Zelda hummed, grinning.
"My pick?" She smiled at him. "I think I'll keep you guessing as to which my pick is. How does that sound?"
He lifted his champagne flute for a toast, and she raised hers as well.
"It sounds even better than shooting a bazooka," he said, clinking the edge of his glass against hers. The sound chimed in the air, as friendly as a bell, and Zelda found herself grinning.
Paya had her happily ever after. So did Granté. And now Zelda… maybe Zelda had an adventure ahead of herself as well.
She couldn't wait to find out.
There we go. Some silly, lighthearted fluff to try to bring a little hope and happiness back to us.
If you enjoyed this, please leave a review. It's like putting gas in the tank! Or a quarter in the jukebox. Whichever you prefer. And when you review, let me know what you liked, and what you'd like to see next. I've been mulling over a few ideas, but would love some more input from you all. So I'll hope to hear from you, and I'll plan to be back mid-week. Until then, you know the drill: Stay safe, stay inside, and WASH YOUR HANDS! Air smoochies to all, and to all a good night.