Happy Wednesday, all! This evening's shortie is gonna be more of a long, which I'll get to in a minute. But first, I wanted to address the elephant in the room. Below is an open letter that will ramble back through a bunch of other similar reviews/questions I've received, and I would appreciate it if all of you would take the time to read it.
Here we go!
Dear readers,
I've been thinking really hard about how much of the "real" world I want to bring to this series of stories. Avoiding the pandemic is one thing. But avoiding the protests and the corresponding violent riots that the police are instigating is… difficult. On the one hand, aren't we all just here for silly drabbles? On the other hand, I have a platform, and it doesn't feel right to stay silent when so much violence is being done and so many people are suffering. So on behalf of my readers, and especially my readers from marginalized communities, I'd like to say this.
I live in the American south, in Texas, to be precise. I am a cishet, white-skinned woman from a moderately wealthy family. My husband is a cishet, white-skinned man, also from a moderately wealthy family. I am the mother of a white-skinned, blonde-haired boy. We have incredible amounts of privilege by nature of our skin colors, our family income levels, the education we were able to receive access to, and our sexual orientations. That privilege carries with it the luxury of not having to engage with what's going on if we don't want to. We don't have to step outside our comfort zones. We aren't faced with discrimination and hate because of our skin color, levels of ability, sexual orientations, or class. Which makes answering this question all the more difficult.
Ultimately, within the world of storytelling, race still exists. I "read" through the lens of a white-skinned woman consuming content crafted in a very white-centric media environment. The Zelda games encapsulate that white-centric aesthetic very neatly: Although we've had darker-skinned Hylians introduced in BotW (looking at you, Lurelin Village!), by and large the inhabitants of Hyrule are white. Both the princess and her hero are white-skinned and blonde haired. By contrast, the villain of the series is dark-skinned. This is a game that originated in Japan, but it uses a Eurocentric, white-centric storytelling model that the fandom has naturally adopted and expanded— myself among them. And we need to acknowledge that race is real in Hyrule, and that our own world's racial inequities have informed this franchise that we so love.
So where does that leave us? Is there space in this fandom for a black-skinned Link? Is there space in this fandom for a princess with nappy hair and dark eyes? I would argue that yes, absolutely there is. Is there space in this fandom for a queer Zelda? For a Link who becomes Linkle? For gender bending, gender play, heroes who are blind, princesses who are in wheelchairs, for a Link and a Zelda who are not a pale-skinned cishet duo? Yes. There is room for all of us, and room for all of our stories. There is room for each of us to remake the hero and the princess in our own images, or in the images of others who aren't represented in the games yet. This is content that I absolutely, positively want to see.
When it comes to writing about race, or trans issues, or queer issues, I'll admit I'm not sure how much space it's proper for me to take up. On the one hand, I have a platform, as I mentioned before, and I want to use it for the most good. On the other hand, I'm so incredibly privileged that it feels wrong for me to tell stories that aren't my own. This is why I've turned down some of the genderbending and queer prompts I've received. It's not because I don't want to tell these stories. It's because I don't want to appropriate them, twist them, do them a disservice. It feels wrong for me to make a lighthearted plaything out of someone else's pain and reality, especially when safety is something that so many people who live that reality have to fight and claw and bleed for day in and day out.
The situation is wrong. Our society is all wrong, and broken, and needs to be fixed. In my life outside of writing, I'm doing what I can to encourage my friends and family to talk about difficult things, to educate themselves about privilege and discrimination; I'm donating what I can, where I can; and I'm amplifying the black, the queer, the Native, the differently-abled voices that I can.
And that's what I want to do here.
If you have fanart that you'd like to share, or fanfics that play with race or gender in thoughtful, constructive ways, please send them to me, and I will include them at the end of each chapter. If you see media— art, cosplay, music, fic— that's created by the voices we need to amplify right now, please, please send them to me so that I can use this platform that I have to open the door wider for people who can tell those amazing, diverse stories that we would so love to see. I'll start the ball rolling at the end of this chapter by sharing fanmusic and fanart from a few non-white creators that I absolutely love. Please help me keep the momentum going.
I hope that this answers the questions that some of you have sent me. If I've misstepped, or if I've said something uneducated, I hope that you will feel comfortable in speaking up and correcting me. I am always listening and always trying to learn and do better.
And to those who disagree with me: If you think that black lives don't matter, that queer lives don't matter, that disabled lives don't matter— well, you know how to close a browser window, and I ask that you do so now. I don't want or need your readership. My stories are about love, acceptance, and kindness. There is no space for hatred here.
Hugs and love to you all during these difficult times. Please stay safe.
Love,
L
I know that this has been a lengthy author's note, but it didn't feel right to keep quiet. So there you have it.
Regarding tonight's story: Honestly, when I saw the prompt for this, my jaw dropped open, and I sent it to CrazygurlMadness, who was likewise infuriated that we hadn't thought of it first. Truthfully, this would make an excellent full-length story, but I've got too many of those in the hopper already, so a oneshot is all we get. For now. ;)
And now, without further ado: What if, after her mother's death, Zelda was raised by Urbosa? Does a Gerudo warrior even need a personal knight?
We'll see, dear readers. Buckle in. Ready? Order up!
"...And so that is why you must go to Gerudo Desert to retrieve the princess."
Link blinked owlishly at the tiny, irritating Chancellor. Pompous fellow, Chancellor Cole. Short. Loud. Self-important.
And he had the very nasty habit of thinking that he could give Link orders.
They stared at each other for a long moment. Link blinked. The Chancellor blinked. Link blinked again.
"Well? Get going!"
Link looked at the chancellor for a moment longer, then spun on his heel and left the room with his customary silence.
He made his way through the labyrinthine halls of the castle to the Guards' Chambers, where Eagus, the Knight Commander, was barking out drills. At the sight of Link, the burly man leaned over and murmured something in the ear of his second, then strode over to Link with a purpose.
"My office," the Knight Commander said, well-used to Link's silences. "We'll be private there."
They made their way to the office, which was nothing so much as a very large closet, and tucked themselves into chairs. Eagus folded his arms and leaned back, propping his boots on the desk.
"You've got that look on your face. Spill."
"Chancellor Cole has ordered me to go to Gerudo Town to retrieve the princess." Link didn't bother repeating any of the irritating man's blather about the Calamity, portents, prophecies, or— eck— royal duties. He merely stated the situation and waited.
The Knight Commander traced an arc in the air with his toe.
"The Champions have been named for each race," he said thoughtfully. "Present company included, of course."
Link inclined his head in silent acknowledgement.
The Knight Commander thought about it for a moment longer. Then he nodded once, crisply and decisively.
"It's a good idea. Anyone other than you might be seen as political. Not to mention that you've got The Sword. Only makes sense that you'd be the one to go."
Link gave a microscopic sigh. He'd been worried the Knight Commander might say something like that. Even though Eagus didn't give Link orders— technically, the only person who could do that was off in the desert— Link still treated Eagus' suggestions with seriousness. Which made this all the more frustrating.
"I can't make her come back." Link voiced the only objection he could think of. Because when it came down to it, he couldn't make her come back. He couldn't make her do anything. In point of fact, nobody could make her do anything.
"You can't," the Knight Commander agreed. "But Chief Urbosa can likely talk her into it. The Chief has raised the princess since the king and queen sickened and died, you know. It was the queen's wish that her daughter be given over to the care of her dearest friend in the world. She thought that was the best way of making sure the princess would grow up loved."
Link hadn't known that. He'd assumed that the princess had been sent away to Gerudo Town for her safety, to be raised away from politics. He nodded once, thoughtful.
"By all accounts, Chief Urbosa has treated the Princess as her own daughter. So even though Princess Zelda technically outranks the chief, if she won't come home, make your appeals to her. Plus, even though she's the Gerudo Champion, you're the Hylian Champion, and in matters related to the Calamity, you outrank her."
And they'd come full-circle. "But not the Princess. She'll be the leader."
Eagus waved a paw in the air. "Bet you she doesn't know that. Any other objections? No? Requisition whatever supplies you'll need to see you out to the desert. And safe travels." He swung his legs under him and stood, strode around the desk, and gave Link a hearty clap on the shoulder. He threw open the office door and bellowed: "SCRUBS! You'd better be sweating blood!"
And then he stumped out, leaving Link in the echoing silence.
It should have gone without saying, but the desert was hot.
Link adjusted the lightweight shemagh he wore to shield his head, face, and neck from the punishing sun. Under his loose clothing, he was sweating buckets and buckets, sweating as much as any new recruit being put through their drills by Eagus. The weight of his pack was a drag on his back, and sweat was collecting under the straps of the rucksack.
And it was only mid-morning.
Link squinted through the wavering heat as he trudged onwards across the sand. He'd been up and trudging along since just after dawn, when he'd left the stables (and his horses) at the edge of the desert. It had taken him a bit over two hours to walk from there to Kara Kara Bazaar, where there hadn't been any sand seals available for rental. So on Link went, kicking through the sand, sweating more than he'd ever sweated in his life. He could see the walls of Gerudo Town wavering in the distance— he likely only had another hour or so to go— but by the Goddesses, it was hot, and it wasn't even noon yet.
Too. Hot.
He'd given up on following the path some time ago: It had been so blown over by sand on the other side of the Kara Kara Bazaar that it had been basically impossible to find anyway. Now, Link just headed in the direction of Gerudo Town, which had been visible since he'd left the Bazaar's gates behind. With every dragging, miserable step, it stretched closer and closer and closer.
And, at last, when Link was convinced he was going to fall over, he arrived.
Two Gerudo guardswomen stood on either side of the gate, looking fresh as daisies and utterly untroubled by the desert heat. They regarded Link with utterly unimpressed faces.
"Who're you, Voe?"
Link would've liked to answer, but he was so parched he didn't think he could speak. So instead, he drew the Master Sword from its scabbard on its back (under all his ridiculous packs he'd carried through the desert) and held it crosswise before him in a fourth-position block.
The two warriors looked at the blade for a long moment. Then one sighed.
"I'll go tell the chief," she said. Then, to Link, "You. Wait here."
Happily.
Link wanted nothing more than to slide to a sad, exhausted, miserable heap in the sand, but he refused to show weakness. Instead, he offloaded his pack— might as well, nothing weak about that— and then pulled out a waterskin, from which he gulped greedily. He critically eyed a small corner of shade in the lee of a wall, then ruefully decided that skulking into it would make him look weak.
And so, sweating in the sun, he waited.
Ordinarily, Link was quite a good judge of the passage of time. But it was so hot that he was becoming disoriented, his mind dreaming of cold springwater, snow, icy drinks. It might have been a quarter hour before the Chief appeared suddenly in the gateway— or it might have been much, much longer. It was so bright that Link couldn't even tell how far the sun had moved in that endlessly blue sky.
"Well, well, well. The Hylian Champion is here," Chief Urbosa said, studying Link from beneath the archway leading into Gerudo Town. She'd crossed her muscled arms over her chest and was tapping one blue-tipped finger thoughtfully against her bicep as she studied Link. "Let me guess. You've come for the princess, haven't you?" She chuckled at Link's determined nod.
"I can't say I'm surprised." She strode forward, stepping as easily on the slippery sands as though it was sturdy stone. She paced a circle around Link. He stood, relaxed but alert, tolerating her scrutiny. It was familiar.
Everyone wanted to see who carried the blade, after all.
"You're shorter than I thought you'd be," the Chief diagnosed as she finished her study. "But then again, you're still just a lad. Perhaps you've some growing yet to do."
Link wanted to respond that he wasn't just a lad, that he was nearly twenty, but he held his tongue, as always. Painful experience had taught him that his words were always twisted. Better to keep silent and let others read what they wished— it was what would happen anyway.
Urbosa leaned down to peer into his face.
"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" She tilted her head sideways, almost as though she might kiss him, but she didn't. Merely scrutinized him for a moment. Then she leaned back. "I'd say my Zelda would run roughshod over you, but you've got that sword, which must mean something."
Link decided it was probably time to unlock his jaw.
"So you'll take me to her?"
At that, the Chief threw back her head and laughed.
"Take you to her? No, no. No man may enter our town, not even the one who carries the Sword that Seals the Darkness. I will tell her you are here. Perhaps she will even come and see you." Urbosa pursed her blue-pained lips in amusement. "Or perhaps not. She's a stubborn one. Tell me, Champion, what will you do if the princess refuses to see you?"
Link fixed the Chief with his most determined gaze.
"I'll wait her out," he said simply.
The Chief laughed again at that, throaty and loud.
"You may be waiting a long, long time, my lad," she said. "Best of luck. I'll tell the princess you're here."
And she turned on her toe and made her way back into the shadowed sanctuary of Gerudo Town.
Link watched her go for a moment, sweating and hating absolutely everything, and then looked at the two guards who stood blocking his entrance. He could probably fight past them if he needed to, but he'd really prefer not to.
"Where should I set up my tent?" He asked instead, hefting his pack.
He didn't even see the princess for a week.
The Gerudo were amused by his plight, but not particularly sympathetic. Still, each morning a guard brought him a jug of water— just one— that he could use for drinking and washing that day.
"You need more, it's on you to get some from Kara Kara," the guard said. "Ordinarily we don't even do this much, but you're the Hylian Champion." And she sniffed, as though she had a very low opinion of sentient swords that chose their bearers. "Clear?"
Link nodded. She was clear.
Link spent the first two days waiting patiently outside the gates, his body acclimating to the heat. On the third day, boredom started to set in, and he amused himself by watching the sand seals frolicking nearby. On the fourth day, he tried to catch a sand seal— unsuccessfully, and to great amusement of the Gerudo, but at least it kept him entertained.
On the fifth day, a few of the younger guard trickled out of the town, curious about the foreign Voe, and Link found himself the unwelcome center of attention. Everyone wanted to ask him things about Hyrule, and he wasn't particularly comfortable answering. But then someone challenged him to a duel, and that he could do, and the rest of the fifth day and most of the sixth day were spent sparring, or demonstrating moves, or showing the young Gerudo women various training kata that they could use.
And on the seventh day, she appeared.
One moment, he was adjusting a young woman's hold on her scimitar— Sapphia, the girl's name was— and the next, everyone was straightening up, coming to brisk attention. Link turned and followed their gazes, and saw the woman standing in the archway.
On first glance, she looked like any other Gerudo. Her skin was tanned, not as dark as some, but Link had seen a rainbow of skin from pale bronze to darkest black among the Gerudo women who had come out to torture him. She was short and relatively curveless, and for that might have looked like a child. She wore a veil over her hair and face, which (again) wasn't uncommon. Even the emerald-green, kohl-lined eyes might have belonged to any other Gerudo.
And yet, there was something… He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he was sure there was something...
When she spoke, it was with an accent that Link had never heard before— and it took him a moment, but he realized it was a unique blending of high-class Hylian and rolling Gerudo pronunciation. It was quite pleasing, actually, except for what she was actually saying.
"I'm not going back to Hyrule with you, so you can just forget it."
Link suppressed a sigh. Why couldn't this have been easy?
"Hyrule needs you," Link said.
"Ha." The princess glowered at him over her veil. "Hyrule can have me when I'm good and ready."
Link cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"The Calamity is coming," he said. "We need you."
"You think I don't know that?" She arched a brow, and Link realized that that was what had been nagging at him. Rather than being Gerudo crimson, her eyebrows were blonde.
Oh, yes. This was definitely the princess.
"What is it that I can do in Hyrule that I can't do here? Pray in some dull, cold shrine?" She snorted, a very un-princess-like sound. Link's respect for her shot up. He'd never much been impressed by noble manners. "Be paraded around in front of slavering nobles all day? I'm about to turn seventeen, which is the age of majority and of marriage. Surely that doesn't have anything to do with your timing?"
Link suppressed a grimace. It did. Fortunately, he was practiced at keeping a blank face. However, the princess was clearly unimpressed by his lack of a reaction.
"And anyway, Hyrule may need me, but I don't need you to fetch me back like a good little errand dog," she said. "I'm a Gerudo warrior. I don't need a protector or an escort. Run along and tell that to the council. I'll come back when I decide it's time, and not a moment sooner. Run along."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and vanished back into the depths of Gerudo Town. Link looked after her for a long moment, then shook his head.
Sapphia stared up at him with wide, adoring, sky-blue eyes.
"Are you going to follow her orders?" The girl asked. "Are you going to leave?"
Not a chance in Din's flaming hell, Link thought. But instead of voicing the thought aloud, he cleared his throat.
"Back to your drills," he ordered.
They fell into a routine, if a slightly unpredictable one. It began with the princess coming out— sometimes every days, sometimes days and days apart— to taunt him and tell him to leave. (He never did). Then, whenever she had to leave the town walls on some expedition or other, such as a trip out to Vah Naboris with the Chief, Link would follow along. He never inserted himself into the traveling party, but he tagged along at the edge, steady and determined and refusing to drag in the heat, even when they went out (intentionally, he assumed) during the hottest parts of the day.
Finally, after about a month of this, she surprised him with an evening visit. He was sitting beside his tent, carefully slicing a hydromelon, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up, surprised by the familiar silhouette.
"Why are you still here?"
Link looked up at her for a long moment. The sun was behind her, and he couldn't read her expression. Wordlessly, he held out a wedge of fruit. She looked as though she very much might have liked to swat it away into the sand, but food was too valuable, especially out here, and pragmatism clearly won out. She sighed, took the proffered wedge, and plopped down in the sand across from him, well out of arm's reach. But she didn't remove her veil to eat.
"You don't talk much, do you?"
Link shrugged and bit into his fruit.
"Aren't you tired of camping out here? Eating nothing but fruit?"
Yes and yes. He was getting a little tired of eating hydromelon, truth be told, but it was better than eating nothing, so he made do.
He shrugged and swallowed.
"Why won't you go back?"
Her expression darkened above the veil. Link took another bite, waiting.
"Hyrule? Ha." She finally scoffed, and Link thought that would be the end of it, but she surprised him by murmuring softly, "There's nothing for me there."
That wasn't true, Link wanted to protest. There was lots there— a castle, and courtiers, and books, and horses, and music and dancing… but was that really it? She had no friends there. No family. Her whole life was in Gerudo Town.
It was no wonder she didn't want to leave.
"And you? Why won't you go back to Hyrule without me?" She sneered, but there was no malice in it. "Too afraid to admit you can't fill your orders?"
Link swallowed, then wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, not caring that it was rude. Maybe if she'd been court-raised and court-bred, he'd make an effort to show some manners, but he'd seen the Gerudo do far worse.
"I don't have orders."
That made her pause. She looked up at him, fruit still cradled between her palms.
"If you don't have orders, then why are you here? Why won't you go back?"
Link thought about that for a moment. Why was he here? He would have been well within his rights to refuse the Chancellor's orders or Eagus' suggestion. But he hadn't. He'd made his way out here, and he'd stayed.
"Hyrule needs you," he finally said.
She snorted.
"You can't honestly believe that. Hyrule is just fine without me."
"That won't last forever," he said. "I can fight until my breath runs out. But only you have the power to stop the Calamity once it rises."
She mulled over that for a long moment, and while she did, Link took the opportunity to have a few more bites of his disappointing dinner.
"I can fight," she finally said. "I can hold my own. I bet I can hold my own against you."
Unlikely. "Maybe."
"And I have the power. Urbosa and I figured it out a long time ago." She stretched out a hand, and a little ball of light appeared, dancing and shining and golden. The light felt warm on Link's skin— not warm like sunshine, but warm like a blessing, like hope. "When Hyrule needs me, I'll be there. But until then, I want to stay here. In my home. Is that so selfish?"
Framed like that… No, it wasn't selfish. Link couldn't blame her.
"Alright," he said.
"Alright?" She repeated. "So you'll leave?"
"No."
Those green eyes narrowed above the veil. "Then what?"
"I understand."
"But you aren't leaving?"
"No."
"Why not? Doesn't Hyrule need you just as much as it needs me?"
Link shrugged. He looked around. Night was falling, and with it, a cool, dry breeze was kicking up over the sands. He felt it stirring his hair.
"This is Hyrule too," he said.
She studied him for a long moment. He wished he could see her face.
"So it is," she finally agreed. She rose to her feet, still holding the slice of hydromelon. "Thank you, but I think you need this food more than I do."
"Keep it," Link said.
He wasn't sure— couldn't be sure with that veil— but he thought she might be smiling.
"Thank you," she said, and retreated back within the city walls.
After that, she was a little less resentful. She didn't seem to mind him tagging along after their expeditions into the desert, and even invited him to walk with her and Urbosa once. And she'd visit him in the evenings sometimes, bringing with her meat and bread, enough to last him a few days at a round. And she asked him questions, and listened when he responded— short though those responses always were— and generally surprised him.
But she never took off the veil.
Link had been in the desert for nearly two months by the time he got around to asking her about it. In his second month, he'd felt free to roam a little further from the town walls, and had learned to ride sand seals, and had even participated in a few races. He'd make trips to and from Kara Kara Bazaar, though he never mailed any reports back to Hyrule, mostly because he felt it wasn't necessary.
He was where he needed to be.
One night, as Link was lazily putting out his campfire and thinking about retiring to his little cot, he was surprised by the appearance of Sapphia. She carried a bundle in her hands, and in even the dark, Link could see that she was blushing hotly.
"This is from the Princess," Sapphia said. "You're to put it on and I'm t-to take you to her."
Link took the bundle of cloth from the woman, and shook out the topmost folded cloth. It was a bandeau. He raised a brow at the madly-blushing Gerudo.
"Does the Chief know about this?"
The woman nodded.
"She supplied it," Sapphia squeaked.
So Link went into his tent and changed into the vai's clothes: a veil like the one the princess wore, a top, loose sirwal. He could feel the breeze on his skin, and wondered that he hadn't thought to get himself some proper desert clothing. Perhaps there was a set of traditional voe's clothes he could beg from Sapphia…?
He strapped on his sword and emerged from his tent. Sapphia squeaked, then held out a loop of cloth.
"Wrap this around your sword. Then come this way," she said in a high, breathless voice.
Link obeyed, obscuring the blade so it looked like any other weapon. The guards at the archway grinned and saluted Link, but didn't otherwise acknowledge who he was. Which was food for thought: Was this… normal around here?
But he didn't have much time to ponder it. Within a moment, he was in Gerudo Town, and he stopped, amazed. It was a riot of color and sound and light, even at night. Trees grew at neatly spaced intervals, and water splashed from cooling aqueducts all around the city. Colorful mosaics dotted the clay walls, and banners of every color hung everywhere. There was music, and the call of voices, and the smell of fragrant, well-spiced food. Link felt his mouth watering.
"This way," Sapphia said. "Don't just stand there."
Although Link felt like he must stand out like a sore thumb, nobody gave him a second glance as Sapphia led him west into what seemed to be a residential neighborhood. They passed by a bar, and continued south, through what was certainly the guards' barracks— Link really hoped he wouldn't have to fight his way through if they discovered what he was— and then up a staircase into what Link belatedly realized was the throne room. They crossed it— the massive clay chair stood empty— and made their way across to the other side, then down into a courtyard surrounded by high walls. A little garden grew there, entirely full of plants that Link had seen at various oases throughout the desert: several different varieties of flowering, scrubby bushes; a patch of hydromelons on the vine; some cacti. Tucked into the wall was a little door, and it was there that Sapphia left Link.
"Inside," the woman said.
Link knocked at the door and heard the princess' voice call out, "You may enter." So he did, edging in carefully in case this was some trap— or worse, a horrible joke.
"Ah, good. Welcome, Link."
He pushed all the way in. It was a one-room dwelling, small but luxuriously appointed, with potted plants and a mosaic wading pool and a plush mattress piled high with soft blankets. A little golden lyre sat propped in a corner, and loose pages of notes were scattered across a desk.
"Princess," Link said warily, shutting the door behind him. "You summoned me?"
She took a moment to regard him with smiling green eyes.
"You wear that very well," she said. "Urbosa thought you might. Relax," she added. "It's a bit of a tradition for us to sneak in men under the cover of women's clothing."
Link remained unconvinced. "If you say so."
"I do. Sit." She gestured at a floor pouf, and Link sat, whumping gracelessly onto his rump. She seated herself across from him, then busies herself pouring drinks from a tall clay pitcher. "Forgive me for summoning you so abruptly. I didn't feel like making the journey out of the town walls."
Link scrutinized her as she poured. "Are you alright?"
Her hands stilled in their work.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Link couldn't answer that, so he waited. He was very good at the whole silent waiting thing, and had gotten even better at it over the past few months. Usually, the princess would spill whatever it was that was on her mind without too much waiting or coaxing. But this time, she surprised him.
"Link, do you miss Hyrule? Do you miss your life there?"
She passed him the goblet and he took it thoughtfully. He tugged his veil off, revealing his hair and face, thinking.
"Not really," he finally said.
"But don't you have family? Friends? People you want to go back to?"
Sure he did. But he saw his family rarely, even when he was in Hyrule. As for friends…
"Most people don't see past the sword," he admitted. "There, here, it doesn't matter."
The bald confession startled her. He could tell by the way her eyes widened above the veil. To give her time to collect herself, Link took a sip. It was alcoholic— some kind of wine. Possibly voltfruit.
It was very good.
"I suppose I hadn't considered that," the princess admitted. "Is… Is that why you're so quiet?"
He shrugged.
"I see."
He waited, wondering what she was working her way around to, wondering what she would do next. But then she surprised him by lifting her hands and pushing off her own veil.
She had majestic, impossibly thick golden hair that had been braided and piled into a simple, brutal knot. Her tanned features were petite and well-formed. Without the veil, those kohl-rimmed eyes— impossibly green, as green as the hills of Hyrule— looked even bigger.
She looked so young.
"Urbosa says it's time for me to leave the tribe," the princess said. "I am nearly seventeen. She says it's time for me to take my place as— as my mother's heir." Her voice hitched a bit, but she kept her face calm, although her eyes were sad. She looked down. "I don't wish to go."
"I know," Link said. At the admission, she looked up, startled. And then, because he didn't know what else to say, he added, "I understand."
She regarded him for a long moment, her face thoughtful. Then she exhaled wearily.
"Yes," she said softly. "I suppose you do. In Hyrule, nobody will see me for me. They will see me only as the Princess with the Sacred Power. Or worse— marriage material." This last was delivered with such a grimace of distaste that Link couldn't help but chuckle. She startled, then scowled at him. "And what do you think is so funny?"
"Imagining someone trying to woo you," Link said. "You'd put them in their place, fast."
"Yes," the princess said, looking oddly pleased by the compliment. "I rather would, wouldn't I?" After a moment, her mirth melted away, leaving that same sad frustration. "But I can't say I'm looking forward to it." She took a sip of her drink. "I can't even remember Hyrule, you know. Not really. I remember my mother, of course, and my father. I remember when they got sick, and I remember the funeral…" Her voice was thoughtful, rather than sad. "And then there's nothing. Just Urbosa, and the tribe, and the desert, and the feeling of being loved." She sighed. "I wonder if anyone will love me in Hyrule?"
Plenty of people would, Link figured. They'd love her for her crown, mostly, but some would see her for her and love her for that. But he didn't know how to express it, so he cleared his throat.
"Have you met Daruk yet? Or Mipha?"
"The Goron and Zora champions?" This was enough to distract her. "No. I haven't. Not yet. Why?"
"You'll like them." Link set his wine aside and gestured with his hands. "Daruk doesn't have an unkind bone in his body. He'll love you instantly, not because of who you are or what you can do, but because that's just how he is. Mipha…" Link paused, thinking. How to explain his childhood friend? "She's soft. Kind. And she's a princess too. If anyone can understand you, it'll be her. And she will."
The princess mulled this over for a moment.
"And what of Revali, the Rito Champion?"
Link swallowed a snort. The princess arched a brow.
"I take it you don't get along."
"Not particularly," Link said.
"Well, we can't all be perfect," the princess mused.
They drank their wine in silence.
"And what of you?"
That was enough to surprise him. "Huh?"
"What do you think of me? Will you be my friend?"
Link set his goblet aside and studied the princess for a moment.
"There's only one person who can tell me what to do," he finally said. "You."
She snorted. "You're saying I'm your commander?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Her mirth evaporated. "So… you see me as your… your supervisor, then?"
Link shrugged.
She watched him for a long moment.
"So I could order you to be my friend," she finally said. "If I wanted to."
"You could," Link agreed. "But you don't need to."
"What?"
Instead of answering, Link unwrapped the Master Sword from his back and knelt before her, laying the blade on the ground between them.
"My blade and my arm are yours. I am your sword and your shield. Where you lead, I follow. Your foes are mine."
"Goodness." Her Gerudo accent had come out a little stronger on that last word. "Is that a traditional Hylian vow?"
"No," Link said.
"Oh."
She didn't have anything to say to that, and Link didn't really know what else to say either, so he left the sword between them and returned to his pouf, settling down to drink his wine again. After a moment, her fingers quested out towards the blade. "May I?"
"Of course," Link said.
She touched it reverently, and for a moment, power seemed to swell through the room. She stroked the pommel and the blade, as gentle as though she were touching a wild beast, and then sighed lightly.
"I don't need your protection," she said for the umpteenth time since meeting him.
"I know," Link agreed, just as he always did.
She chewed over that for a moment, then nodded.
"Very well. We'll leave for Hyrule Castle two mornings from now."
Link nodded once in acknowledgement. She watched him for a moment, expression inscrutable.
"Well?" She finally asked. "Aren't you going to hop up and run off to it?"
Link cocked his head. "Is that an order?" He asked. "Because I'd rather stay here for now, if that's alright with you."
She smiled. Without the obscuring fabric of her veil, it was radiant, brilliant, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Link was blinded, was awestruck, was rendered breathless. Oh.
"I'd like that," she said sunnily, and reached over to top up his wine.
With nothing else to do, Link drank, thinking to himself that the princess would be a force to be reckoned with once the time came, and that in the meantime, he was very much looking forward to being her shadow.
Food for thought, that.
We're done! Like I said, a long 'un, but I thought it was a fun story worth telling.
As promised, here are a two WOC/POC content creators I absolutely love:
Harpsona, a woman who does harp covers of VGM and anime music.
Shellanin, a black cosplayer whose costumes are amazing
I'd love to grow this list out, and honestly haven't dug much into it, which is totally on me. But if any of you have content creators you'd like to share— not just Black, but anyone from a non-cishet white background that i should feature— let me know.
Coming up next time, I'll be combining prompts to a silly, short oneshot wherein our favorite couple bickers about the purchase of an ox. Until then, you know what to do: Stay safe, stay inside, and WASH YOUR HANDS! Air smoochies to all, and to all a good night.