A/N: This is a Legend of Zelda Zelink Pirate AU! Since there's nowhere to put tags here like on Ao3, I just wanted to give a heads up there that in this fic, there will be pirate-related graphic violence like swordfights, hangings, floggings, etc. There's also no smut or anything graphic, but there is sexual content, so I just figured I'd get all that out there before you started reading! Chapters are also looking like they'll be on the longer side, between somewhere 4000-9000 based on my first couple of chapters. So if all that is good with you, let's go!
Zelda sat with her head in her hands, rocking with the gentle sway of the ship. The breeze on her face did little to settle her nausea, despite the wet cloth that her lady's maid, Paya, was holding to the back of her neck. Zelda's hair was neatly tied up out of her face after becoming well acquainted with the rail of the ship. Her golden hair was long, down to her mid-back on a non-humid day, but while it was tied up, it gently flapped against the back of her neck, though that didn't stop smaller strands of hair from sticking to her clammy skin. There were rivulets of sweat on her forehead, and it wasn't only from the beating heat of the sun.
They hit a wave a bit sideways, and just like that, Zelda pushed Paya away from her so she could bend over the side of the great square-rig, The Wanderlust, and lose her stomach—again. It was for this reason that she was beyond grateful her hair was already out of her face. There was no reason to subject her hair and her mouth to both have to suffer the foul-smelling consequences of her sea illness.
"You're doing so well, My Lady," Paya cooed, rubbing Zelda's back as she helped her return to the stool set out for her on the quarterdeck, far out of the way of most of the ship's crew. Paya held out a flask of water for Zelda to rinse out her mouth with. Zelda gargled several times, spitting over the edge before wiping the sweat off her forehead.
Oh yes, she was doing so well.
Several people had tried to console Zelda with that same reassurance. It was her first time at sea, so she didn't have a reference beforehand. Her legs shook as the waves rolled the boat back and forth. She'd been stumbling with every step, and her brain felt like it was being smashed into the sides of her head. And her stomach… well… her stomach abhorred sea travel most of all.
One week into the crossing, and she still couldn't get her "sea legs" as so many had called it. Back home in Hyrule, her governess, Impa, had called such a walk 'a well-placed waddle', and the woman held no affection for sea travel herself. Years of schooling and etiquette hadn't prepared Zelda for the journey to Hyrule's newly acquired islands, one of which her father governed.
And it was there that she was headed, after having been absent from her father for some six or so years, she was to reunite with him on Windfall Island, the most prosperous trading hub of the Great Necluda Sea. And it was said that Rhoam Nohansen was well suited for his position, having a natural aptitude for the work.
But Zelda was returning to him for little reason more than to become a bargaining chip. She was to marry a well-ranking officer of the Hylian Navy, a man who she knew very little about but his name. Lieutenant Rivan. She was to look beautiful in her long gowns and well-maintained hair. Her painted smile was to be a reminder that the colonies were every bit as sophisticated as the mainland. And while it wasn't the role she'd hoped to fill when she was a little girl, it was a role she'd accepted and, for most of her life, prepared for.
There were days in the past when she'd sit on the edge of her bed and stare out into the stars, longing for something more. But that wasn't in the cards. Not for the perfect daughter of Rhoam Nohansen. Not for the woman whose future marriage could impact Hyrule's very future.
Her governess, Impa, had ensured her prepared for all aspects of her future life. Zelda had been taught the ways of running a household and organizing events. She'd been taught how to speak in polite company. Not even the process of marital intercourse seemed to have escaped her education. She was taught the intricacies of such an enigmatic event, and her governess had even let her in on the secret: that it required little more of her than lying on her back for a few minutes. So, Zelda was ready for all aspects of her future marriage. That wasn't what scared her. No, what scared her was too blasphemous for her to even admit to herself. Wanting a different life, a different choice? That was not for her to decide. The Goddess made those decisions. And to question the Goddess was heresy and a sin.
Back home, Zelda became most adept at hosting fancy dinner parties, and how to hold eloquent conversations. She knew which fork to use first, and how to sit properly. She was every bit the perfect lady Impa had taught her to be.
Except… she didn't mind admitting—to herself only, of course—that she wished she at least had her own choice of husband from among the distinguished officers, if not the decision to outright say no entirely. But Rhoam had written her the happy news that she was engaged to a handsome Hylian Navy man; well respected and considered handsome by the ladies in town. As if that were enough to satisfy that he was a good man. As if that negated the fact that he'd never once sent her a letter to simply introduce himself.
And with that letter, a statement from the governor as final as if it had been a command from the king, she'd been torn from her home, her friends, and everything she knew to reunite with her family, past and future.
Zelda ran back to the edge, nauseous again.
"There, there," Paya hummed, her fingers cool and refreshing on Zelda's skin.
"Are we nearly there yet?" Zelda practically begged, turning her head just enough to see Paya beside her.
"I'm afraid not, My Lady. We have some days at sea still. You'll get used to this eventually. My first time took nearly a month before I could walk across the deck without stumbling."
"A month?!" Zelda moaned, replacing her forehead against the boards.
The Captain, a deceptively young man who's powdered wig and worry lines across his forehead gave him the appearance of someone much older, stood at attention beside her. "Perhaps you should retire below deck for a time, My Lady."
"I was told it's better up here with the wind."
The Captain smiled at her, though it was a smile she'd seen on many faces in the past. Faces that desired nothing more than to be out of her company. "Yes, well, I mean no offence, as I know you cannot help yourself, but your constant retching is unsettling to the men working."
Paya burst over, placing herself between Zelda and the Captain, her neatly tied back, almost white hair bouncing with each step her long legs took. "I was told to oversee her welfare while aboard, so if your men cannot handle someone such as Miss Zelda here minding her own business while ill, then they should learn to settle their own stomachs, if it's so upsetting to them."
The Captain grumbled something in displeasure before storming off, leaving both Paya and Zelda with triumphant smiles.
"You'll get over this feeling, Miss."
Zelda tilted her face into the breeze. "I feel ill physically, but also mentally. Is that wrong of me?"
"No, I don't believe it is."
"I miss my home, and my friends. We'd go for walks through the botanical gardens, and eat fine rolls under the moonlight. It's likely that I'll never see them again. And Goddess above, do I miss unmoving grass beneath my feet."
"You can write them letters. Would you like me to fetch something to write with, and you can distract yourself by writing one now?"
Zelda smiled again. "Thank you, Paya, but I'd rather keep your company for now. I can write when I retire."
"Thank you, Miss."
"So, Paya, tell me about—"
"SAILS!"
Zelda and Paya looked up at once, their eyes darting to the horizon. But neither saw anything. It looked entirely normal to Zelda, and judging by Paya's silence, she didn't either.
The Captain pushed his way through to the back of the ship, just behind Zelda, and pulled out a spyglass. He glanced at the first mate beside him. "Do you see colors?"
"Yes, it looks to be the Hylian Navy. Perhaps it's Captain Cole's ship?"
"He wouldn't be on this route."
"Captain Dragmire, then?"
The Captain shook his head again. "Him either. Neither are stationed this near the mainland. Just keep watch. I'm going to check my log, see if there's something I forgot."
Zelda turned in her chair, nerves and curiosity getting the better of her. "What's happening, do you think?"
Paya's face betrayed nothing. "Could be an important message, a blockade warning, a need for some men, food, or medicine. It could be any number of things. Don't fret, My Lady."
"I'm not fretting. I'm curious," Zelda said. And though Paya meant well, Zelda felt frustrated. She wanted to be thought of as someone other than some frightened girl constantly in need of help or assistance. She wanted to be someone memorable for the right reasons.
"They're gaining on us," Zelda muttered as she watched the ship in the distance grow larger over time.
"We're the ones slowing down. I believe they've signaled," Paya said, sitting forward.
They watched the other ship, a galleon, as Zelda recalled from her notes, progressively become larger still. And the Captain grew unsettled upon his return to his first mate and several others who were keeping watch. Though the speed had Zelda feeling momentarily better, the urgency on the Captain's face had her unsettled again.
Zelda turned to him more fully, hearing him mutter something to no one in particular.
"Run."
And as his face fell and a harsh realization dawned on him, his voice grew more panicked, even to the point of cracking. "Run! Run! We have to run! This is no friendly! Let out the sails!"
Zelda stood up and raced to the back railing, leaning heavily on it so she could peer closely at the boat in the distance, as if she knew what she were looking for. A gleam of light from their deck blinded her for a moment. Zelda turned away, squinting as her eyes tried to readjust, and she saw another crewmate beside her. He was using a spyglass. Zelda looked back and shuddered at the thought that they were all staring at each other, watching, either through the glass or without.
Paya pulled her away from the edge and towards the stairs that led down the quarterdeck.
But before Zelda could take a step, she grabbed Paya's arm, pulling the maid to a stop. Her eyes were locked on the chasing ship, and they both watched in horror it lowered the colors of the Royal Hylian Navy, and rose a black flag in its place: a skeletal horse and warrior raising a sword embroidered into the material.
"Oh Goddess above," Zelda breathed, "Pirates."
Images flooded Zelda's brain of the stories she'd been told her entire life of the briggands at sea: murderous beasts far more like sharks than men. Barnicles clung to them from their time at sea. Limbs decapitated from battle, teeth sharpened to better tear out their victim's throats, pillagers, thieves, a plague on the world.
The thought of meeting one of these had Zelda abruptly feeling very sick again.
"Get below, now!" the Captain hissed, pushing her the rest of the way down the steps.
Zelda grabbed the vast handfuls of fabric of her skirts as she lifted them so she could safely clamber down each step.
"Won't they shoot holes in the hull? We'll drown below!"
"Let's do as he says. Perhaps this won't come to a fight at all," Paya said, hurrying down to a small room that was filled with unimportant knickknacks. No one would enter it unless they needed to.
The moments hiding in the closet-sized room were some of the worst Zelda had ever experienced.
In a large house, such as hers back home, the great clocks tick each second, echoing against the wide walls until the noise becomes all that one can hear. The ticks become deafening and distracting in the silence if one cannot tune them out, and it can become one of the most infuriating noises of all time.
That was how Zelda felt about breathing.
In the silence, hidden with Paya, clinging to each other with one ear trained on the deck above, their combined breaths were so loud, so rapid, so present, that Zelda was sure they'd be found in there from that noise alone. She wished she could smother herself temporarily; she needed nothing short of passing out to slow her rapid breaths.
After an undiscernible but merciless amount of time, Zelda heard the echoing cry of 'Prepare to be boarded,' ring out, along with the sound of unsheathing metal and heavy footsteps all around.
"Oh gods," Zelda hissed, trying to control her racing heart and to steady her breaths before company could find them.
It took a while for Zelda to hear anything else, but the screaming was the first thing she heard. Some of it was a war-like cry, preparing for battle, but the more sickening noise was the screams of pain or fear. The sound of death.
"Don't worry, Miss Zelda," Paya gasped out through sobs. She took Zelda's hand and held it tightly.
"Don't you worry, Paya. I've got you, as well," Zelda said, wrapping her arms tightly around the woman's back, hugging her close. And as much as Zelda wanted nothing more than to feel comfort in that embrace, it made her more frightened. Paya's tears were loud, and Zelda's breathing had picked up, as if she'd ran down a road to catch a carriage. "Shhh, Paya. We're safe."
The footsteps above were thunderous, but none boomed as loudly as the soft tiptoe of one pair just outside the door.
Closing her eyes and finally relenting to holding her breath entirely, Zelda waited to hear the footsteps recede.
They never did.
The door swung open, and suddenly, a hand was gripping her by the hair, dragging her in one hand, and Paya in the other. They both screamed, stumbling and staggering where his hand guided them. Zelda dug her nails into the hand that dragged them, but it was no use. The steps were painful, and her effort needed to be divided so she could keep her feet. Zelda clung to her hair with one hand, trying to minimize the pain, and the other tried to reach out to the steps to steady herself, though to no avail.
"Got 'em."
Zelda was thrown to the deck. The pain in her hair subsided when he let go, and her ponytail from earlier was torn loose, sending her hair into waves around her face. Paya was beside her, already trying to scamper to her feet.
Zelda looked up and saw many of the crew of The Wanderlust on their knees as several figures pulled at the crew's coats, removed their weapons, and foraged through pockets for other belongings to take for themselves. Then, the coats, the boots, the overcoats… many of the clothes came too.
"Found the log yet?" a man's voice asked, deep and husky. His accent wasn't that of a proper Hylian; it was rugged and loose, lacking any finesse. But there was something almost… melodic about it. Something that Zelda had never heard before on the streets of Hyrule.
Zelda had heard so many stories of the monsters at sea. That the thieves who prowled the waves were less than human, that the gave up their souls to Demise and their merciless ways knew no bounds. But in front of her was a man. A man very like she'd see on the streets of Hyrule, though far more unkempt. Blonde hair that was neatly pulled out of his face. Blue eyes that flickered up to her. He was no animal, no creature. He was human.
"No, not yet."
"Hurry up, then! We don't have all fucking day here. Send the others to start hauling. Clear their hold of anything of use or value to us."
The man knelt down in front of Zelda and Paya, resting his arms leisurely over his knee, as if he had all the time in the world. Zelda still couldn't bring herself to look at him.
"Make my life a little easier, will you? Which of you is the Governor's daughter? Have you swapped clothes for safety? Or were you too slow?"
"Why should we tell you?" Zelda found herself asking. "What will you do with her when you know?"
The man smiled and placed his dirty hand under her chin. "I'll bet it's you. Only someone raised to believe they're something fucking special would talk back to the only one keeping you alive right now while you're on your knees, entirely at his mercy."
Zelda wasn't sure what came over her, but she jerked her chin away and stared at the man, straight into his piercing blue eyes. "Kill two helpless women? That's not frightening. That's cowardly."
She half expected his hand to come down across her cheeks to silence her, but instead, he smiled and laughed. "Maybe I'll keep you regardless of who you are."
"Mr. Woods!" someone called, and the blue-eyed man looked up. The other man held out a journal, which Mr. Woods took and scanned.
With his attention elsewhere for now Zelda felt her body betray her, and a fearful noise crept out from her throat and tears stung her eyes. It felt like she hadn't let out her breath since she was below, and when it came out, it was shaky and unsteady and beyond fear. She had gone far beyond fear to a place she didn't recognize.
Maybe I'll keep you.
Suddenly, it wasn't just the rocking of the ship that had her stomach churning.
"A private journal?" Mr. Woods asked. "Not the Captain's Log?" He glanced first at Zelda, and then craned his neck to see The Wanderlust's Captain being tied to the mast. "The man doesn't stop writing, does he? He has far too much time on his hands. Is everything else we need in there?"
"Aye; we've already sorted them and are bringing them aboard."
Mr. Woods nodded and returned his attention to the journal, his eyes rapidly scanning the page before flipping, scanning, flipping.
"You can read?" Zelda quipped.
He smirked again, lopsided and easy. "I can, Zelda Nohansen."
Her eyes widened, and Woods bent back down to her. "Knew it was you. Your Captain didn't have many nice things to say about you, does he? Looks like he prefers to call you 'that blonde bitch,' which is his words, not mine. Tell me, Zelda—"
"Decorum dictates that you use my title with my name, sir," Zelda spat. "It's Miss Nohansen or Miss Zelda."
"Okay, Princess," Woods said, returning his attention to the book.
"I'm no princess."
"Then stop acting like one." He closed the book and tucked it under his arm. "How much does your father love you, Miss Nohansen? Would he do anything to ensure you're returned to him? Would he pay any price for your safety?"
Whether it was bravery, or fear, Zelda didn't answer him. She was on her knees, her heart racing, her survival instincts begging her to say yes, to say of course he would. He'd pay the world. But her other instincts, whatever they were—since they seemed to favor her early death—kept her quiet, a defiant look on her face as she stared at Mr. Woods the entire time, unblinking.
From his belt, he pulled a long, ornate pistol. Examining it for show, he knelt back down in front of her and let the cool metal rest on her chin. "Does that mean that he doesn't know you? He doesn't care? He's not gonna pay? You got a clue? What does your silence mean, Miss Nohansen, and what's it worth?"
Her breath hitched, and a high-pitched whine came from her throat as her eyes slammed shut of their own accord. She wanted to stare at him, to dare him to call her bluff, but she couldn't. All she could do was hold her breath in hopes of stopping the noise from getting any louder. She knew he could hear it already.
Zelda couldn't hear any of the cries from Paya through the beating in her ears. The pitiful begging, of Paya screaming yes, that he'd pay. It almost seemed that no one paid her any heed, because they let her flail about, they let her scream. They only held her when she lunged for Zelda, though she realized later that she should have reached for Mr. Woods.
"No?" he asked, and she couldn't tell if he was impressed or amused by her refusal to answer. "Very well, then."
Mr. Woods lowered his gun and grabbed Zelda by the arm to keep a tight grip on her as he jerked his head, a silent order.
Zelda had no time to react or to try to pull herself from his hold. Not when she saw two men grab at Paya.
The only reaction she had was to reach for the maid's hand, and though clammy and sweaty, they locked their fingers, as though that could keep them safe.
"No!" Paya screamed. Zelda's hand was clasped around Paya's as tightly as she could, but Mr. Woods needed very little strength to remove their hold, pushing Paya away as he tucked Zelda tighter against him.
Goddess, Zelda pleaded. If ever there was a time for divine intercession, this was it. But when no lightening rained down to strike their enemies, Zelda was reminded that she was entirely alone.
Letting out a cry, Zelda reached for Paya again. And when that failed, she pushed Mr. Woods instead.
It gave her the distance she needed to face him halfway and slam her palm into his cheek with all her strength. And she was surprised to see a single droplet of blood. He seemed stunned as well, and she took the moment to let her long, fine nails scratch down his face.
He hissed, but that was all. Once he'd recovered from his surprise, he grabbed her right wrist and examined her fingers. A ring. He plucked it off of her and held it out until someone took it.
"Nice trick." Again, Zelda couldn't tell if his tone was sarcastic or sincere. Something about his glistening eyes told her that there was a fine line between those two attitudes, and that they were difficult to distinguish between.
And her 'trick' hadn't worked. In fact, he doubled down and grabbed both her wrists in favor of his pistol and held her arms behind her, just in front of him. She was entirely subdued, and he shifted to get comfortable where he knelt behind her with a smug smile.
It was then that she could hear Paya again, calling out for Zelda, for her not to worry.
"What are you doing to her?" Zelda demanded, struggling in his grasp to get Wood's attention, as if it were anywhere else.
Paya screamed as she too was forced to her knees in front of Zelda. Only Paya wasn't restrained for long. Instead, one of the crew pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the girl's head. She froze, only sobbing to herself as she slammed her eyes shut and began muttering a prayer to the Goddess.
Zelda, on the other hand, snapped. "Don't!" she screeched, trying to pull from the strong grasp. "Don't touch her! No!"
Mr. Woods held her until she stopped flailing so aggressively. "You see this?" he asked.
Did she see this? Of course she could see this.
"He'll pull the trigger on my command, not before. So you see, you and I are the only two who can stop your friend from dying. Now, tell me, Miss Nohansen, are you worth our time?"
"Yes! My father will pay! Let her go!"
Mr. Woods nodded to the others, and they lowered their guns, pushing Paya away. And he let Zelda go.
With Paya away, Zelda's mind took control of her body once again. Her hands reached for the hilt of a weapon on Mr. Woods' belt, and she did well to catch him by surprise, given the quick string of curses he put together, but he was faster, and her wrists were locked in his grip yet again.
"Goddess! Do you have a death wish?" he breathed. "You are relentless, aren't you? You're going to keep me on my toes this whole trip. You know, I don't want to do this, but if you try that again, or if you try anything with any crew member, I'll pull the trigger on her myself and you'll watch, as close as you are now, unable to do a damned thing. Stop fighting. We're going to sea; no escape, no running. We're bringing you home, Miss Nohansen, and if you'd both like to be seeing it again, then it's all on you to stop resisting. Can you do that?"
"If you kill her, then what do I have to lose? It seems to me that the success of your plan rests far more on your decisions than on mine."
His lips twitched up for a moment before letting Zelda go. He stood up and offered his hand.
Zelda pushed it out of her way and threw her arms around Paya instead, holding her tightly. They clung to each other as they stood, with Zelda's arms fiercely and protectively around Paya, refusing to let go.
Mr. Woods smirked at them, his eyes lingering on Zelda, before walking to the rest of the crew. "Ten," he said before circling his way back to Zelda and Paya. "Let's go." He nodded towards the gangplank that connected both ships.
He hopped up with ease and held his hand out for Zelda once again.
And while she wanted to maintain her pride at all costs, one step onto the unsecured plank of wood had her feeling her unsteadiness full force again, and she relented, taking a fierce hold of Mr. Wood's hand in an attempt to at least injure his fingers. But that annoying smirk appeared on his face once again, and he simply helped her to balance as they crossed.
She let go immediately, and wiped her hand against her skirt.
"Hold them, ," he said, turning to his nearest two crewmates. They both had Zelda and Paya tightly restrained again. And this time, Mr. Woods pulled out his pistol, again, stepping onto the long piece of wood. "Take them to the Captain when it's done."
"Aye," one said.
"The Captain?" Zelda squeaked. "You're not the Captain?"
Mr. Woods chuckled, and his smile darkened. It was threatening this time, and an easy reminder that this was no Hylian gentleman. "No."
He made his way easily across the plank and held out his arm, pistol raised. The echoing sounds of firing weapons, the burn of gunpowder reeking the air, the disappearance of the sudden violence behind a shroud of smoke.
Zelda let out a shriek, but it was unheard over the din the weapons-fire caused.
When it was done, Zelda could see the blood that had splattered all over the wood of the Wanderlust, and the bodies that littered its deck.
A woman's voice boomed from the other ship. "Let's go! I want us underway! Load the rest of it and get us loose!"
The source of the voice surprised Zelda. A woman crossed the gangplank and gazed down on Zelda and Paya, scrutinizing their equally traumatized faces.
The woman was extremely tall, and the heeled boots that she walked in added to her height while not hindering her in the slightest. She was muscular, not the typical build of a lady that Zelda would have expected to see. Her red hair was tied up and out of her way, camouflaging some of the blood that had splattered onto her. Her brilliant green eyes were surrounded by a lining of black kohl that only made them pop more, especially considering her blue lipstick. She was undeniably not like any woman Zelda had ever seen before.
And her voice was deeply authoritative. In some horrifying way, she reminded Zelda of her governess.
"I'm Captain Urbosa. Welcome aboard The Epona, Miss Nohansen."