I hated this.

She stared at me. My own staring had long turned to a steady glower; eyes squeezed almost shut as I tried to pick apart every stitch for some inkling of an answer. Maybe the real problem is that I didn't have a coherent question.

The fire in my father's mantle crackled to fill in my silence and illuminating my balled-up place on the carpet. I should be asleep right now, that was the plan anyway, but it was thwarted earlier in the day when my last bedroom was deemed a "risk".

Still, I hated it all the more. The doll was in the same useless state where I placed it – a slightly slouched perch on the velvet loveseat. It intensely reminded me of when my tutors would make me find symbolism in a storybook where there obviously wasn't, making me conjure some flowery explanation for why the author used this phrase or that description.

With my knees up to my chin, I fiddled with the hem of my night gown and wondered and wondered and wondered because a head full of pointless thoughts felt better than nothing at all.

There was commotion – arguing, then the door opened and I was met with the burning sight of Urbosa. In her hand was a page, crumpled by her fist, and I understood before she spoke.

"You can't be serious!" she glowered. Urbosa was a woman who schooled her expressions masterfully yet now she was untamed.

My face reddened, embarrassment probably. "I can explain."

"Explain what exactly? This man has threatened my life, my countrywomens' lives, and now yours… and you want to give him a platform to speak on?"

She was outraged, flailing Ganondorf's letter as she spoke. I pressed my lips together and let her rant on about what I had mentioned to Impa before. My toes pressed deep into the carpet.

"Your anger is something I can understand," I finally said, frowning when she caught my gaze. "But I'm not a child and this is not an entirely irrational reaction."

Urbosa watched me for a tense moment and stepped away to pace the room in an attempt to air out her feelings. When she did, I saw Impa accompanied her with a careful presence. I steeled myself for whatever it was she wanted to say.

My father's quarters weren't where I expected to be tonight, but at least he was in a safer (and more inconspicuous) part of the castle. If anything, the familiar setting was a slight comfort even if it wasn't my own room. It was an airy space and not much had changed since the war started. I rose from my spot, trying to gracefully slip the doll into my gown's deep pockets and perched myself where the toy once sat.

"Okay," the Gerudo leader breathed again, sitting on the cushions with Impa across from me. "Okay, then explain it to me."

I breathed in deeply. "No doubt you've read what he's wrote, but I've read it more than you have. Let's talk about it."

The half impatient nod my way with born out of pure frustration. I could completely understand it, but it didn't make the feeling of pressure any lighter.

"In his words, he wants to declare a form of parley," I spoke, slowly choosing my words. "Meaning a temporary truce in war to sit down and discuss negotiation – or the start of them."

I swallowed as I mentally scanned through the letter word-for-word in my head:

I doubt that my reputation holds well in your circles and it would be foolish to give a nobody's word any weight.

"Traditionally, it would be held by one party sending an ambassador of sorts to the opposition. We would discuss terms at a distance, however he is willing to travel to Hyrule Castle himself."

Urbosa scoffed, "That's even worse."

"It means he's going in place of someone expendable. It was the whole point of 'parley' as a concept and he is willing to give us leverage to make this happen."

I could tell there was more she wanted to say, but she chose not to. Impa spoke up instead.

"I realize that I haven't told you this before," she said. "But you should consider your image."

My brow furrowed, "My image?"

"To history, Zelda, there has never been an enemy like this within the castle walls unless force was taken. No other ruler has offered an invitation like this before. Don't you find that troubling?"

I felt my frown deepen. The fabric of my gown twisted around my fingers. I took another deep breath of the burning applewood in the hearth before saying, "The conflict we're currently in has surpassed the amount of casualties in any other war I have lived through in half the time. Pray tell, do you find that troubling?"

They didn't reply; they didn't have to.

"I am afraid," I spelled out. "I am afraid to see the country being torn with violence and bloodshed. To consider that I am assumed its leader is another type of fear I haven't grasped yet, much less what historians will jot me down as. Better yet, let's discuss how someone I know very dearly is out there; contingent to the choices I make."

Roughly, I swallowed. My gaze went to the ceiling where engravings of old legends escaped the firelight.

"Let us discuss what I know will be his vehement disapproval of my consideration. My goal here is to mitigate as much as I can and if that means buying time at the cost of my reputation, then so be it," I conceded. Impa stared at her hands and I could only feel shame, weak. I wonder if that's what she had in mind. "Horrible rulers have preceded me and I don't expect to be the last."

There was a long moment of quiet that made it awful to resist squirming in my seat. I didn't like our options either, but pride was my father's forte. I wasn't about to inherit it now that an opportunity like this is tangible, even if it came about through unconventional means. I'll let them move me into the royal quarters and I'll let them squander more of my personal time with increased security – I won't let them pass this up without a single consideration.

Urbosa and Impa stood, I expected them to leave immediately but instead Urbosa said my name and took my hand in hers. Worry was in her eyes.

"You know I would never give you up," I said softly. "I really hope you weren't expecting me to abandon you so quickly."

The sofa dipped slightly as she took a seat. "Tamen non obliviscar tui et filiae."

At my slight confusion she merely smiled and said, "It means: Never forget your daughters. We say that when we underestimate our children after they're grown. I am scared, Zelda."

Our hand hold slipped into an embrace. She continued, "I worry constantly for you. As much as I want to, I don't have all the answers. None of us do and maybe that's why I reacted the way I did. I forgot that and, more importantly, I forgot you."

The next days brought sleepless nights. I wasn't sure if I preferred them because in the darkness was the chilling vision of what Link had become. That dream wouldn't fade as the days wore on, instead sharpening in the parts that struck me the most. In the mirror of my room, when Anju would prod at the dark circles under my eyes, I would see his eyes staring at me.

"It wasn't real," I muttered, almost angrily.

Anju grunted behind me with bobbypins caught between her teeth. "What wasn't?"

"I had a dream," I said. "And it wasn't real, but I feel like it was and it's ridiculous."

"Well, ya look tired enough," she replied with a nonchalant drawl, watching me in the mirror a moment before shrugging. "Everyone has nightmares, Zelda. Even Her Royal Grace Majesty Herself."

The smile I tried to suppress fought hard. "It was about Link."

"You're worried! Welcome to the club. You already know the things Aryll writes to me, halfway between gloating and going stir crazy," she laughed. "His next present to her has to be twice as shiny as the last."

Her hands paused in their tugging. "If it's bothering you, you should talk about it."

I sighed, relenting quickly because she'd prod further if I hadn't. I left out the odd parts about the strange man and the dancing and focused more on when I saw Link.

"It was probably me projecting…" I groaned. "But he seemed driven mad, Anju! And I caused that. The only reason why he isn't with his family or living more peacefully is because of me."

She considered it, seeming to weigh my words as she viewed me from the front. Her nose crinkled, "Zelda, you know that boy. I know that boy. When we were kids, he would always be the lead troublemaker leading the charges. Shocking, believe me I know, but you must be raving mad if you think he wouldn't force himself into this mess regardless of your decisions."

"With or without me?"

She hummed in thought, "Reckless is a word I would use – no, wait – organized recklessness. But he has always needed help picking up the pieces. It used to be Aryll with scrapes and bruises." Then, there was a glint in her eye that made me laugh, "I wonder who it'll be now?"

"There is no guarantee that the negotiations will come to anything," Fierlin grimaced, reading through Ganondorf's letter. "Though I won't disagree that a truce, no matter how temporary, is a plus."

He stroked his beard with a raised brow and met my eyes. "Do you… know how to send news to your right hand?"

We were in my father's study with a long list of staff sitting on my desk, each with a detailed list of any possible connections to the opposition. I pushed it away.

"I have consulted every consultant at my fingertips at the moment; written out the pros and cons," I said. My head rested on my fist in a dull way to help my sore neck.

"Well," the man leaned back in his chair as old worn men tended to, "I know the tenacity and unwillingness to quit. I've gotten well acquainted with that side of him when he was my captain. Don't get me wrong, Your Majesty, Link will follow any order you give him… but he will fight and kick every step of the way."

"That's only because Admiral Whitehurst is with him right now."

He raised a hand to negate me. "Not necessarily. Link's a fine remediator. He doesn't show obvious favor to anyone under him and is constantly listening. He'll tune out whatever sees fit. Any resistance you saw came from him alone."

I glanced down at one of my desk drawers that contained some of Link's letters and closed my eyes.

"I want him to travel back to the castle if we go through with it." When, really, but it was hard to believe what was happening myself.

The look he gave me wasn't remotely hopeful.

"I wouldn't count on it. It's not likely he would abandon his men because who is to say this truce lasts more than a day? We don't know the temperament of this 'Ganondorf' and he is largely unpredictable in much else."

"Will Link resent the idea that much?"

"I predict he will…" Fierlin stopped himself, then sighed. "He will have some complications with it."

That night, crumpled papers littered desk. They were filled with words that didn't string together properly and thoughts that weren't quite complete. The first letter was a formal inquiry of Ganondorf's arrival. On the closed envelope, I pressed my father's insignia with more pressure than necessary.

I kept it in a closed drawer because the second letter was both an order and request for counsel.

In this, my thoughts were far more frayed and there were countless drafts that kept the wick of my candle burning. It was a constant debate on whether I should even forgo pairing the first with it. I recalled his reluctance to retreat and the disappointment that came after. The ink pen felt heavier in my hand.

This was when I realized that this was what Impa was fearful of.

My hand dragged down my cheek and I forced myself to sit up straighter.

She has told me more than once, no matter how indirect, that whatever Link and I had would eventually conflict with my duties. Especially with the dynamic at play now, he was my Commander General and I was his Queen. I have asked the opinion of all my resources both past and present, why should my consideration of his opinion be so weighty?

It had grown to the point where I could barely put pen to paper.

An obstruction of my duties, that is a phrase Impa would say.

The words I ended up writing were addressing him formally. Though I was sure word had been sent about what had happened, I reiterated the events from what Lord Ibauna shouted about to the letter within my room. After that, in the most political way I could muster, I told him I was considering it with the counsel in mind. This time, I wouldn't slip an additional note because I couldn't think of anything that wasn't me trying to influence him.

I bound the two letters and sent them the same night. Once I get the General's counsel, I will make the final decision and either order him to send a messenger… or not.

This is grossly miscalculated.

Urbosa was speaking, but it was difficult to truly listen to her. She was walking beside me. I want to say that her gentle suggestions to coax me off the ledge were helping, but it only pushed me to push my nails deeper into my palm. The sharp pain helped me more to keep my mouth shut.

"He was only trying to assert another option."

Immature

I glanced to her and said through gritted teeth, "What he was trying to do was insult my integrity."

My steps were heavier than they usually were when going to attend meetings with the admirals. On any other day, I would approach it with a cool head. It was a war room, I wanted to be as even keeled and level-headed as I could.

Rash

Now, I couldn't stop seeing red.

Just barely, I turned my head towards her. "He acts as if he has had lifetimes of experience already," I hissed, pausing briefly while passing a couple of maids with bowed heads. "Link is barely any older than I. Ridiculous."

Urbosa and I bounded a set of stairs and before I entered the war room, I requested an ink pen and parchment as well as the awaiting messenger. It hadn't been two days before I got a reply from Link. A set of officers stood when I entered the room.

I wasn't exactly surprised to see Admiral Whitehurst return almost immediately after the letter arrived. His face was still red from his traveling and I politely acknowledged him.

"Your general isn't happy," he said. "He made the carriage ride through the night, gods willing my back is still intact."

"Oh, no," I uttered out, splaying the several pages Link had written me onto the table. "He surely is not."

The admiral blinked considerably. I had never acted this way in front of them, but at this point I didn't have the luxury to care. The only reason I took a seat was to keep them all from standing awkwardly.

"Groveling at the enemy's feet, he says," I glanced at the pages with a casted hand. "How, exactly, is he coming to these absurd conclusions?"

I feared that he would have tried to influence Link more in my disfavor, but I did trust what Fierlin had told me and the handwriting on the correspondence was unmistakably Link. Why he had sent John Whitehurst was a mystery to me altogether, perhaps in an effort to sway me even more?

Well, good, I thought. Maybe the one he is receiving will beat some sense into him.

Whitehurst grunted as he sat back in his chair and took a moment to adjust.

"General Forester is doing what he was appointed to do, fight to win. If we pause, especially in the terms he has relayed to me, I believe that he believes you have given up."

I reeled back, "When has lessening the toll this war has taken meant 'giving up'? Did he say those exact words?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Um, yes, perhaps, Your Grace."

I breathed in deeply. Slowly, I counted from ten.

Tyrant was a bad look on anybody – more so me.

"Okay," I said finally, calmer. "I think we can now say we have received all the insight we need to make a decision."

A guard who was outside the door brought in a pot of ink, a pen and parchment. I thanked him quietly.

"I wanted to convene one more time before I decide to send this order," I said, taking the pen between my fingers. The correspondence on the table, which Urbosa was now leafing through with Whitehurst, was missing the final page. It was burning in my dress pocket.

Reconsider, Zelda.

I caught Urbosa's gaze while the officers and the sparse admirals had a last discussion about weighing the final options, or their lack of. She watched me with a solemn demeaner. Then, she nodded.

I will not be there to help you.

I don't need his help.

"Is it decided, gentlemen?"

Delicately, I folded the paper twice just in time for the messenger to walk through.

My only words to him was an order to send my acquisition across enemy lines.