 @ Flight Of A Fledgling@
ch. 4-Lament
by:GoldenSilence
-----
disclaimer: characters don't belong to me. If you think they did, well, you're in the wrong fandom, my friend.;)
-----------
A/N=Gah, stupid floppy disks. Anyone care to tell me why the hell you can't use one to transfer a story from a windows 95 computer to a windows XP? Blah. I formatted it to the new computer and it completly erased the new chapters on my stories, both this one and my original one. Needless to say, I was ever so slightly pissed. Well, now I'm typing them up all over again..only problem is, this chapter turned out a lot different than I originally planned due to my stoopid computer. *Takes floppy to kitchen with her in order to melt it in a lovely ritualistic burning beneath her microwave.
Hmmm..maybe this writing thing is really getting to be a little TOO much of an obsession.
------------
The gates of Hyrule Castle creaked their way open, iron long ago turned to rust making a grating noise in Zelda's ears. She hesitated on the threshhold of entering into her home, one slippered foot paused in mid-air as if climbing an invisible step, the other foot hidden beneath layers of snow.
The guard, used to this kind of strange obstinancy (all nobles had their quirks of sorts, bless them) simply gave a sigh and stood off to one side resolutely, by manner of decorum refusing to enter until Zelda herself did. He did not move even now as snow seeped most unpleasantly into his armor, his leather shoes, his hair, his face, and even, he suspected, his long underwear (the wife would NOT be happy.)
He stood this way for a time, until he was sure he would no longer be able to move even if he wanted to, a snowman composed of tin, his eyelashes stuck together by irritating clumps of snow. Perhaps if he just gave her a gentle shove with his spear...
"Errm, milady? Perhaps we should get a move on?"
This was said through teeth that would have been gritted with impatience if they hadn't been chattering quite so hard.
At this, Zelda seemed to come back to life. The suspended foot went down, but she still did not advance any further through Hyrule Castle's gates, which were, thought the guard with extreme irritation, only a step away.
"Milady, we really must hurry. Otherwise, I fear, at this rate, we will get to see his majesty for dinner instead of breakfast."
Zelda shrugged with a carelessness the guard had long ago learned to be careful of. It was just such a feigned apathy that meant the princess cared deeply about something, and when royalty cared deeply about something..well, all hell ran for cover.
"Why?" she said, and immediately winced at her choice of words. They were the sort of words that were forever linked with the voice of a whining, spoiled child, one who was used to getting everything she wanted. Zelda knew she had been just such a child and found herself continually having to hide the evidence. Though, her spoiled childhood had not been without penalty. She had been, and still was, given everything she dreamed of..with a price. What she wanted was hers, but what she needed..ah, that was another story altogether.
"I mean, why should we go in and see him? I'm sure it's nothing important.."
Zelda trailed off, buying time. She was sure the outdoors, as uneappealing and frigid as they were, were much to be preferred to the castle, which to her, was more alien than even this wintery wonderland.
The guard stared at her like she had gone starking mad. "The last time you said that, princess, you had broken the family heirloom and spilled a quart of wine all over the best linen." The guard grinned. "Seem to remember something about climbing the 'wrong' tree. Talented little thing you were back then."
Such loss of respect was a dangerous thing, especially when you were to be future queen. Zelda lived in constant fear of this. It was not so much that she wanted to rule, not really, but..what if she simply was not cut out to rule? With no siblings, she would have no choice but to reign. The dream from last night rushed unbidden to her mind, fleeting images rushing through, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. Was this what was in store for the future of Hyrule if she became its queen?
How could she ever be a ruler, commanding thousands, when she couldn't even command herself or get Hyrule's own guards to respect her?
It never occured to Zelda that there was any form of respect besides that of the servant to the master, that there was such a thing as the respect of a friend for another, respect in the form of comrady.
"Your memory is very reliable, indeed. Perhaps it would be better served to remember I am no longer five years old, catching my ribbons on tree branches," Zelda said stiffly. She drew herself up the way she had seen her father do and gave him the look. "As it would do you well to remember your place."
The attitude was not hers, but after years of practice, it had become second nature to her, which made it as good as hers. A queen, her father had always told her, must keep her distance, never get too close. You must be concerned about the people, of course, but not concerned personally. Otherwise, you would never last a year as a ruler, always worrying that every last thing gone wrong with the people was your fault. Why, you'd wear yourself out within a fortnight.
The guard bowed, gesturing with his hand to the gates, something like dissapointment in his eyes, along with an undimmed spark of laughter. Zelda felt her face grow hot in spite of herself. Goddesses, how dare her laugh at her.
"As you wish, MILADY. Perhaps it would do me well in addition to remind milady that her crown is turned backwards?"
Fixing her crown hastily, her face now not only hot, but red with emberassment, Zelda gathered the remaining tatters of her dignity. "As it would benefit you most greatly when I remind you not to fall asleep on guard duty again. The cook was not amused when your spear hit him across the flat of his back."
"Oh, but I was."
Losing her air of superiority, just as the guard had intended her to, Zelda glared at him in fury. "Next time you choose to nap on guard duty, I'll see to it you get fired."
She threw up her hands in the air when the guard said nothing. "Honestly Matthew, you aren't a child anymore! It's time you acted mature!" Then, more quietly. "I don't want to have you back out on the streets."
"Zelda..."
"Don't. Just don't. It isn't befitting. We aren't children anymore, and I-- Things are more difficult now."
Something in Matthew's eyes took spark and he opened his mouth to speak words of assurance, but Zelda was gone before he could let them fall, not racing through the gates, but walking rapidly just the same, the pace of her feet set to that of someone important going somewhere of equal importantance, someone who would not dilly dally or stop to chat.
The conversation, slim as it had been, had not receeded to nothing, and the guard knew it would not restart anytime soon.
The guard tipped the visor of his helmet low over his head before passing through the gates himself, his pace even with that of the girl's, his spear clinking against the pebblestones every other step with an odd hollow sound. Whether the familiarity of name or concern affected the guard was not apparent, for the recesses of his face were hidden beneath the mask of intricately worked steel and iron.
"There is far more to being a child than just running around in petticoats." The words were not lost on Zelda, whispered quietly as they were, with the intent they should reach no one's ears. But before she could respond, even if she would have chosen to do so, (which she most emphatically did not) the guard seemed to turn one with the floor and walls of the castle, standing still, spear at his side in constant viligeance (that went on a temporary vacation every once in awhile.)
Zelda, even though she did not bother to acknowledge this change of position and ceasing of movement, knew that Matthew had returned to his regular station. From this point on, she was on her own.
This girl too was the possesor of a mask, though it may not have been wrought of something as tangible as metal, a mask she wore now with ease, her face obscured by the blandness written across it. If she was so good at not caring, then how come she cared so very much?
"Best sharpen your wit, soldier, before I have you reported."
And with that last departing barb, Zelda pushed through the doors that lead to the throne room. Tall and imposing as most everything appeared within the castle, the doors served more of an ordamental purpose than anything else, jewels encrusted into not only the handles but the lattice workings of the frames. Across the red carpet Zelda walked, bits of snow tracking in on the heels of her soaked, slippered feet and the equally soaked hem of the sweeping train of her dress.
Zelda looked neither left nor right, keeping her head high and focused on some point directly above her father's head. It was far better to appear haughty then to let show the emotions beneath. From the goron's celebration of Malon's and Link's engagement to her dream last night, Zelda's reign on her emotions was still a bit shaky, and she was taking no chances that someone could see what was written in her eyes and read it as a weakness to be taken advantage of.
"Zelda."
"Good sir."
Her father cleared his throat loudly as Zelda dipped into a curtsy before him, as effortlessly as another might nod his head or yawn. It was second nature to her, as sea legs to a sailor.
The king's irritation was obvious to her, if no one else. Like her, his face was a lesson in careful complacency, but thinly veiled beneath it was anger. Good goddesses. What HAD she done now?
At first, Zelda thought it might be her unruly appearance. Everyone, from the kitchen boy to the stable master, knew her father hated unkemptness with a passion. Why, Zelda was surprised he didn't already have some servant with a dustbin behind visitors at all times, to ensure the castle stayed as spic and span as ever. Guiltily, Zelda willed herself to stay focused on the spot behind her father's head and not crane her neck around- no matter how much she desired-to look at the puddles of snow she had left in her wake, melting into the thick carpet now so that it appeared sporadically polka-dotted, stained dark red by the snow in some places, its original faded red shade still intact in others.
"You wished to see me on some matter?"
The king took his time answering, finishing the bit of bacon he was nibbling on and washing it all down with a tankard of ale. Definitely a bad sign. Her father never made people wait for an answer unless he wished them particular torment.
"Yes. I did."
Realizing her father was not about to elaborate any further, Zelda encouraged him. "And?"
"And you seem to have brought in the avalanche of the outdoors in with you. Pray tell, how did you manage such a feat?"
"Are you so sure it was me, father? We do have ever so very many lofty windows.."
Her father's face darkened and his grip on his ale slankened as he lowered the beverage, not exactly slamming it, but causing it to make a nice distinctive noise as it was brought down upon the wood of the table all the same. The instant her mistake came to mind, it was already too late to right it. "Father"??? Ugh, what had she been thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Father was a term of endearment used on an old man with a beard and a potbelly, a middle aged man with twinkly eyes who gestured with his arms so much, he was prone to knock things over; in short, a loveable figure. Her "father" was not a loveable figure.
Especially not now.
Standing up to his full height, which towered over all the imposing things in the room, including both his own full backed, gold painted ( "it's really silver, Zelda, but you'd be amazed at what you can fool people into believing") chair and the viceroy of Hyrule, himself a full six foot one.
"Your impertenence is not needed, Zelda. Especially not today. You interrupted a most important meeting this morning, coming barging as you did. I specifically asked for you to come a half hour prior, but apparently your sense of time is nonexsistent, as is your sense of dignity."
Sense of dignity, her ass. If it wasn't for her sense of dignity, Zelda would have hurled her slipper at her father. As it was, she had to restrain herself from making a smart retort in kind.
"Forgive me. I did not think. What is the matter of which you wish to see me about?"
"The hero of time."
Zelda found herself suddenly going defensive. The mere mention of him in front of others made her feel ashamed. Ashamed of what, she wasn't sure, except for that the feeling was not a welcome or familiar one, nor one she wanted to keep around.
"What about Li-the hero of time?"
Her father regarded her coldly. "What are your feelings on marriage?"
The world seemed to spin before her eyes. Everything within the room condensed and blurred, so that it seemed to rush towards her as it spun. All of it became an erratic mixture of colors; her father's robes, the blotchy carpet, the table weighted down with food and more than its share of people, and the high windows, indeed, so high that they served absolutely no purpose, as even the viceroy standing on his tiptoes upon the back of her father's chair could not be able to view the scenery out of them.
"I..marriage? To him?" Zelda whispered faintly, clasping her hands in front of her as if it would somehow help her retain her sense of balance and her clear head, both of which appeared to have temporarily flown right out the aformentioned windows.
"Indeed. What say you to it?"
No, no, no, no! Zelda's brain shouted as at the same time, an entirely different part of her, ill used but there none the less, screamed with equal fevor, yes, yes, yes!
She could not find a voice with which to speak.
"It would be a most wise move, and I am not unaware of your feelings for him, child."
He knew? But how could he? She had hidden it so well. Zelda was aware of several gasps and dissaproving glances sent her way courtesy of the nobles and important officials gathered at the meeting. Her father was a sneaky one, he was. Determined to emberass her in the worst way possible. Zelda felt like a very small rodent or bird in a cage, with several unkind faces leering from a proximity far too near to be comfortable, peering so that she wanted nothing more than to cuddle into a little ball, and put her hands over her eyes, like a small child in a game of hide and seek.
Zelda, who often was the creature fashioned of ice that she was rumored to be, felt like a gray horizon burst into firey color as the sun rose. So many emotions flooded her, she dimly wondered if she might be going mad. Sadness, anger, happiness, all of it came as suddenly as her bout of diziness so that Zelda wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry, or laugh, or simply sit down on the floor and scream until all the mirrors within the palace shattered and the walls heaved down upon her.
Only a mere week ago she had been in this same room, asking her father the same question. He had responded in the negative, leaving her only the perogative of breaking Link's heart gently. But was such a thing possible? Now, Zelda was entirely sure it was not, nor had it ever been. If she had suceeded with Link's heart, she had entirely botched up the job on her own, for it was nowhere near as whole.
Now, after all that pain and effort, he was telling her it wasn't neccesary? That he wanted her to marry Link after all, that he wanted her to marry Link after she had gone and refused him!??
"Zelda, are you alright?"
Damn him, she was nowhere near alright!
Somewhere within her, Zelda found her will to talk, though her voice sounded oddly marred within her own ears. "I was of the mind that you were oppposed to the idea."
"Not anymore. Apparently, he had quite the fortune left to him by the gorons."
Oh, this was preposterous and horribly ironic! The jewels the gorons had given him of their own good for Malon's and Link's engagement were the impetus for her father's sudden change of mind? After all of his deeds to serve others, it was other's good deeds that were to serve to elevate him in the eyes of the nobles at last?
Link was now more than just an honorary prince of sorts. He was a prince with money. And Zelda's father would never let her marry someone without money.
She knew the words she had to say, though it was so terribly tempting to take the low road out and not say them, to allow her father to scheme away, to allow herself to be happy. But could she ever be truly happy if Link was miserable?
In spite of her resolve, Zelda's voice went shaky, betraying the lie to her words, something it hadn't done in years.
"No, I can't. I can't not marry for love. When we married, it would be nought but coins being exchanged from one hand to another, and you know it."
Her father didn't even try to hide his motives. "I do. But allow me to reiterate I also know that the marriage would not be without love. You do love him, no matter how you try to hide it."
"Did" muttered Zelda, uncomfortable with the personal turn the conversation was taking. She did not like to show her true self in front of others. "As did he. Begging your pardon if I think he wouldn't be exactly keen to this idea. Or did you forget that you told me to refuse his offer of marriage a week hence?"
The king waved his hand impatiently, as if this was minor distraction in the grandeur of the picture he was painting. "Bah. That matters not. If he is of such outstanding character as all the lasses of Hyrule make him out to be, he will accept you back with open arms, vouch my word for it."
"Oh no he won't." Zelda normally never would have let herself get so carried away, but she was furious. Those that had never seen the princess as anything other than the narrow, pale faced girl with the pointed ears, with about as emotion as a still life, were amazed at expression upon her features whence provoked. Underneath contempously raised eyebrows, the grey stood out inside her steely light blue eyes, opened wide and unblinking, all the more scary for the turmoil within them. Her mouth was pinched tightly, making her cheekbones appear prominent on her face. Pale yellow hair fell across her flushed cheeks.
"Now, now-"
"He WON'T" went on Zelda determinedly, "because he's already bethrothed to another."
"Well, this is a new development. To whom?"
"That matters not. All that matters is that he is getting married tomorrow at the Temple of Time. Suits your plan rather ill, doesn't it?"
"That's enough. You are excused. I thought to seek your input first, but such decisions are best left to one that knows how to make them."
Zelda was glad her fall of blonde hair hid her face as she curtseyed one last time. She was fuming.
Her father grinned slightly. "Oh, and Zelda? One last thing. You forget I am king. I have the final say in all things. ALL things."
Dutifully, Zelda retreated a few paces, but on a whim of mind, she turned to face her father once again. "I will not leave. I am not a guest at your table to be excused when you tire of my company. I'm your daughter and I am staying here until you promise the idea of me marrying Link is out of your head."
"I'm afraid, dearest daughter," the king spoke, his tones mocking, "that your use in this matter has come to an end. As your father"-he was definitely mocking now-"I will decide what is best for you." The king clapped his hands almost lazily. "Guards?" The guards lining either side of the halls like pillars instantly snapped to attention. "Kindly escort the princess back to her quarters."
Zelda did not give her father the contentment of struggling with the guards as they walked her off, their hands in vicelike grips on either of her shoulders as they manuevered her firmly towards the doors.
"Oh please, please," Zelda pleaded in her mind, not entirely sure who or what she was pleading to, other than that it was some divine force. Perhaps Nayru or Din or even one of the sages. It mattered not, so long as someone listened to her. "Let him be satisfied to simply ruin my life. Don't let him ruin the life of others in addition. Please let him leave all alone."
The king went back to his meeting as if the interruption had never happened. He had far too much on the mind to let his daughter's uncharacteristic behavior bother him. Terminia, for example. Just what they were planning he wasn't sure, but he didn't like the sound of events taking place there at all, whispers of rebellion and shadows of..
The king shuddered and cut that thought off abruptly. Even in his mind, he was wary of putting a name to his own fears.'Twas most unwise.
So Malon and Link were getting married tomorrow. Before Link left for Terminia with him, then. Hmm..not much time, but he could fix things up, he was sure. Fix things up for himself, which of course, assured that for everyone else, the transition would be a miserable one.
-------------
ch. 4-Lament
by:GoldenSilence
-----
disclaimer: characters don't belong to me. If you think they did, well, you're in the wrong fandom, my friend.;)
-----------
A/N=Gah, stupid floppy disks. Anyone care to tell me why the hell you can't use one to transfer a story from a windows 95 computer to a windows XP? Blah. I formatted it to the new computer and it completly erased the new chapters on my stories, both this one and my original one. Needless to say, I was ever so slightly pissed. Well, now I'm typing them up all over again..only problem is, this chapter turned out a lot different than I originally planned due to my stoopid computer. *Takes floppy to kitchen with her in order to melt it in a lovely ritualistic burning beneath her microwave.
Hmmm..maybe this writing thing is really getting to be a little TOO much of an obsession.
------------
The gates of Hyrule Castle creaked their way open, iron long ago turned to rust making a grating noise in Zelda's ears. She hesitated on the threshhold of entering into her home, one slippered foot paused in mid-air as if climbing an invisible step, the other foot hidden beneath layers of snow.
The guard, used to this kind of strange obstinancy (all nobles had their quirks of sorts, bless them) simply gave a sigh and stood off to one side resolutely, by manner of decorum refusing to enter until Zelda herself did. He did not move even now as snow seeped most unpleasantly into his armor, his leather shoes, his hair, his face, and even, he suspected, his long underwear (the wife would NOT be happy.)
He stood this way for a time, until he was sure he would no longer be able to move even if he wanted to, a snowman composed of tin, his eyelashes stuck together by irritating clumps of snow. Perhaps if he just gave her a gentle shove with his spear...
"Errm, milady? Perhaps we should get a move on?"
This was said through teeth that would have been gritted with impatience if they hadn't been chattering quite so hard.
At this, Zelda seemed to come back to life. The suspended foot went down, but she still did not advance any further through Hyrule Castle's gates, which were, thought the guard with extreme irritation, only a step away.
"Milady, we really must hurry. Otherwise, I fear, at this rate, we will get to see his majesty for dinner instead of breakfast."
Zelda shrugged with a carelessness the guard had long ago learned to be careful of. It was just such a feigned apathy that meant the princess cared deeply about something, and when royalty cared deeply about something..well, all hell ran for cover.
"Why?" she said, and immediately winced at her choice of words. They were the sort of words that were forever linked with the voice of a whining, spoiled child, one who was used to getting everything she wanted. Zelda knew she had been just such a child and found herself continually having to hide the evidence. Though, her spoiled childhood had not been without penalty. She had been, and still was, given everything she dreamed of..with a price. What she wanted was hers, but what she needed..ah, that was another story altogether.
"I mean, why should we go in and see him? I'm sure it's nothing important.."
Zelda trailed off, buying time. She was sure the outdoors, as uneappealing and frigid as they were, were much to be preferred to the castle, which to her, was more alien than even this wintery wonderland.
The guard stared at her like she had gone starking mad. "The last time you said that, princess, you had broken the family heirloom and spilled a quart of wine all over the best linen." The guard grinned. "Seem to remember something about climbing the 'wrong' tree. Talented little thing you were back then."
Such loss of respect was a dangerous thing, especially when you were to be future queen. Zelda lived in constant fear of this. It was not so much that she wanted to rule, not really, but..what if she simply was not cut out to rule? With no siblings, she would have no choice but to reign. The dream from last night rushed unbidden to her mind, fleeting images rushing through, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. Was this what was in store for the future of Hyrule if she became its queen?
How could she ever be a ruler, commanding thousands, when she couldn't even command herself or get Hyrule's own guards to respect her?
It never occured to Zelda that there was any form of respect besides that of the servant to the master, that there was such a thing as the respect of a friend for another, respect in the form of comrady.
"Your memory is very reliable, indeed. Perhaps it would be better served to remember I am no longer five years old, catching my ribbons on tree branches," Zelda said stiffly. She drew herself up the way she had seen her father do and gave him the look. "As it would do you well to remember your place."
The attitude was not hers, but after years of practice, it had become second nature to her, which made it as good as hers. A queen, her father had always told her, must keep her distance, never get too close. You must be concerned about the people, of course, but not concerned personally. Otherwise, you would never last a year as a ruler, always worrying that every last thing gone wrong with the people was your fault. Why, you'd wear yourself out within a fortnight.
The guard bowed, gesturing with his hand to the gates, something like dissapointment in his eyes, along with an undimmed spark of laughter. Zelda felt her face grow hot in spite of herself. Goddesses, how dare her laugh at her.
"As you wish, MILADY. Perhaps it would do me well in addition to remind milady that her crown is turned backwards?"
Fixing her crown hastily, her face now not only hot, but red with emberassment, Zelda gathered the remaining tatters of her dignity. "As it would benefit you most greatly when I remind you not to fall asleep on guard duty again. The cook was not amused when your spear hit him across the flat of his back."
"Oh, but I was."
Losing her air of superiority, just as the guard had intended her to, Zelda glared at him in fury. "Next time you choose to nap on guard duty, I'll see to it you get fired."
She threw up her hands in the air when the guard said nothing. "Honestly Matthew, you aren't a child anymore! It's time you acted mature!" Then, more quietly. "I don't want to have you back out on the streets."
"Zelda..."
"Don't. Just don't. It isn't befitting. We aren't children anymore, and I-- Things are more difficult now."
Something in Matthew's eyes took spark and he opened his mouth to speak words of assurance, but Zelda was gone before he could let them fall, not racing through the gates, but walking rapidly just the same, the pace of her feet set to that of someone important going somewhere of equal importantance, someone who would not dilly dally or stop to chat.
The conversation, slim as it had been, had not receeded to nothing, and the guard knew it would not restart anytime soon.
The guard tipped the visor of his helmet low over his head before passing through the gates himself, his pace even with that of the girl's, his spear clinking against the pebblestones every other step with an odd hollow sound. Whether the familiarity of name or concern affected the guard was not apparent, for the recesses of his face were hidden beneath the mask of intricately worked steel and iron.
"There is far more to being a child than just running around in petticoats." The words were not lost on Zelda, whispered quietly as they were, with the intent they should reach no one's ears. But before she could respond, even if she would have chosen to do so, (which she most emphatically did not) the guard seemed to turn one with the floor and walls of the castle, standing still, spear at his side in constant viligeance (that went on a temporary vacation every once in awhile.)
Zelda, even though she did not bother to acknowledge this change of position and ceasing of movement, knew that Matthew had returned to his regular station. From this point on, she was on her own.
This girl too was the possesor of a mask, though it may not have been wrought of something as tangible as metal, a mask she wore now with ease, her face obscured by the blandness written across it. If she was so good at not caring, then how come she cared so very much?
"Best sharpen your wit, soldier, before I have you reported."
And with that last departing barb, Zelda pushed through the doors that lead to the throne room. Tall and imposing as most everything appeared within the castle, the doors served more of an ordamental purpose than anything else, jewels encrusted into not only the handles but the lattice workings of the frames. Across the red carpet Zelda walked, bits of snow tracking in on the heels of her soaked, slippered feet and the equally soaked hem of the sweeping train of her dress.
Zelda looked neither left nor right, keeping her head high and focused on some point directly above her father's head. It was far better to appear haughty then to let show the emotions beneath. From the goron's celebration of Malon's and Link's engagement to her dream last night, Zelda's reign on her emotions was still a bit shaky, and she was taking no chances that someone could see what was written in her eyes and read it as a weakness to be taken advantage of.
"Zelda."
"Good sir."
Her father cleared his throat loudly as Zelda dipped into a curtsy before him, as effortlessly as another might nod his head or yawn. It was second nature to her, as sea legs to a sailor.
The king's irritation was obvious to her, if no one else. Like her, his face was a lesson in careful complacency, but thinly veiled beneath it was anger. Good goddesses. What HAD she done now?
At first, Zelda thought it might be her unruly appearance. Everyone, from the kitchen boy to the stable master, knew her father hated unkemptness with a passion. Why, Zelda was surprised he didn't already have some servant with a dustbin behind visitors at all times, to ensure the castle stayed as spic and span as ever. Guiltily, Zelda willed herself to stay focused on the spot behind her father's head and not crane her neck around- no matter how much she desired-to look at the puddles of snow she had left in her wake, melting into the thick carpet now so that it appeared sporadically polka-dotted, stained dark red by the snow in some places, its original faded red shade still intact in others.
"You wished to see me on some matter?"
The king took his time answering, finishing the bit of bacon he was nibbling on and washing it all down with a tankard of ale. Definitely a bad sign. Her father never made people wait for an answer unless he wished them particular torment.
"Yes. I did."
Realizing her father was not about to elaborate any further, Zelda encouraged him. "And?"
"And you seem to have brought in the avalanche of the outdoors in with you. Pray tell, how did you manage such a feat?"
"Are you so sure it was me, father? We do have ever so very many lofty windows.."
Her father's face darkened and his grip on his ale slankened as he lowered the beverage, not exactly slamming it, but causing it to make a nice distinctive noise as it was brought down upon the wood of the table all the same. The instant her mistake came to mind, it was already too late to right it. "Father"??? Ugh, what had she been thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Father was a term of endearment used on an old man with a beard and a potbelly, a middle aged man with twinkly eyes who gestured with his arms so much, he was prone to knock things over; in short, a loveable figure. Her "father" was not a loveable figure.
Especially not now.
Standing up to his full height, which towered over all the imposing things in the room, including both his own full backed, gold painted ( "it's really silver, Zelda, but you'd be amazed at what you can fool people into believing") chair and the viceroy of Hyrule, himself a full six foot one.
"Your impertenence is not needed, Zelda. Especially not today. You interrupted a most important meeting this morning, coming barging as you did. I specifically asked for you to come a half hour prior, but apparently your sense of time is nonexsistent, as is your sense of dignity."
Sense of dignity, her ass. If it wasn't for her sense of dignity, Zelda would have hurled her slipper at her father. As it was, she had to restrain herself from making a smart retort in kind.
"Forgive me. I did not think. What is the matter of which you wish to see me about?"
"The hero of time."
Zelda found herself suddenly going defensive. The mere mention of him in front of others made her feel ashamed. Ashamed of what, she wasn't sure, except for that the feeling was not a welcome or familiar one, nor one she wanted to keep around.
"What about Li-the hero of time?"
Her father regarded her coldly. "What are your feelings on marriage?"
The world seemed to spin before her eyes. Everything within the room condensed and blurred, so that it seemed to rush towards her as it spun. All of it became an erratic mixture of colors; her father's robes, the blotchy carpet, the table weighted down with food and more than its share of people, and the high windows, indeed, so high that they served absolutely no purpose, as even the viceroy standing on his tiptoes upon the back of her father's chair could not be able to view the scenery out of them.
"I..marriage? To him?" Zelda whispered faintly, clasping her hands in front of her as if it would somehow help her retain her sense of balance and her clear head, both of which appeared to have temporarily flown right out the aformentioned windows.
"Indeed. What say you to it?"
No, no, no, no! Zelda's brain shouted as at the same time, an entirely different part of her, ill used but there none the less, screamed with equal fevor, yes, yes, yes!
She could not find a voice with which to speak.
"It would be a most wise move, and I am not unaware of your feelings for him, child."
He knew? But how could he? She had hidden it so well. Zelda was aware of several gasps and dissaproving glances sent her way courtesy of the nobles and important officials gathered at the meeting. Her father was a sneaky one, he was. Determined to emberass her in the worst way possible. Zelda felt like a very small rodent or bird in a cage, with several unkind faces leering from a proximity far too near to be comfortable, peering so that she wanted nothing more than to cuddle into a little ball, and put her hands over her eyes, like a small child in a game of hide and seek.
Zelda, who often was the creature fashioned of ice that she was rumored to be, felt like a gray horizon burst into firey color as the sun rose. So many emotions flooded her, she dimly wondered if she might be going mad. Sadness, anger, happiness, all of it came as suddenly as her bout of diziness so that Zelda wasn't sure whether she wanted to cry, or laugh, or simply sit down on the floor and scream until all the mirrors within the palace shattered and the walls heaved down upon her.
Only a mere week ago she had been in this same room, asking her father the same question. He had responded in the negative, leaving her only the perogative of breaking Link's heart gently. But was such a thing possible? Now, Zelda was entirely sure it was not, nor had it ever been. If she had suceeded with Link's heart, she had entirely botched up the job on her own, for it was nowhere near as whole.
Now, after all that pain and effort, he was telling her it wasn't neccesary? That he wanted her to marry Link after all, that he wanted her to marry Link after she had gone and refused him!??
"Zelda, are you alright?"
Damn him, she was nowhere near alright!
Somewhere within her, Zelda found her will to talk, though her voice sounded oddly marred within her own ears. "I was of the mind that you were oppposed to the idea."
"Not anymore. Apparently, he had quite the fortune left to him by the gorons."
Oh, this was preposterous and horribly ironic! The jewels the gorons had given him of their own good for Malon's and Link's engagement were the impetus for her father's sudden change of mind? After all of his deeds to serve others, it was other's good deeds that were to serve to elevate him in the eyes of the nobles at last?
Link was now more than just an honorary prince of sorts. He was a prince with money. And Zelda's father would never let her marry someone without money.
She knew the words she had to say, though it was so terribly tempting to take the low road out and not say them, to allow her father to scheme away, to allow herself to be happy. But could she ever be truly happy if Link was miserable?
In spite of her resolve, Zelda's voice went shaky, betraying the lie to her words, something it hadn't done in years.
"No, I can't. I can't not marry for love. When we married, it would be nought but coins being exchanged from one hand to another, and you know it."
Her father didn't even try to hide his motives. "I do. But allow me to reiterate I also know that the marriage would not be without love. You do love him, no matter how you try to hide it."
"Did" muttered Zelda, uncomfortable with the personal turn the conversation was taking. She did not like to show her true self in front of others. "As did he. Begging your pardon if I think he wouldn't be exactly keen to this idea. Or did you forget that you told me to refuse his offer of marriage a week hence?"
The king waved his hand impatiently, as if this was minor distraction in the grandeur of the picture he was painting. "Bah. That matters not. If he is of such outstanding character as all the lasses of Hyrule make him out to be, he will accept you back with open arms, vouch my word for it."
"Oh no he won't." Zelda normally never would have let herself get so carried away, but she was furious. Those that had never seen the princess as anything other than the narrow, pale faced girl with the pointed ears, with about as emotion as a still life, were amazed at expression upon her features whence provoked. Underneath contempously raised eyebrows, the grey stood out inside her steely light blue eyes, opened wide and unblinking, all the more scary for the turmoil within them. Her mouth was pinched tightly, making her cheekbones appear prominent on her face. Pale yellow hair fell across her flushed cheeks.
"Now, now-"
"He WON'T" went on Zelda determinedly, "because he's already bethrothed to another."
"Well, this is a new development. To whom?"
"That matters not. All that matters is that he is getting married tomorrow at the Temple of Time. Suits your plan rather ill, doesn't it?"
"That's enough. You are excused. I thought to seek your input first, but such decisions are best left to one that knows how to make them."
Zelda was glad her fall of blonde hair hid her face as she curtseyed one last time. She was fuming.
Her father grinned slightly. "Oh, and Zelda? One last thing. You forget I am king. I have the final say in all things. ALL things."
Dutifully, Zelda retreated a few paces, but on a whim of mind, she turned to face her father once again. "I will not leave. I am not a guest at your table to be excused when you tire of my company. I'm your daughter and I am staying here until you promise the idea of me marrying Link is out of your head."
"I'm afraid, dearest daughter," the king spoke, his tones mocking, "that your use in this matter has come to an end. As your father"-he was definitely mocking now-"I will decide what is best for you." The king clapped his hands almost lazily. "Guards?" The guards lining either side of the halls like pillars instantly snapped to attention. "Kindly escort the princess back to her quarters."
Zelda did not give her father the contentment of struggling with the guards as they walked her off, their hands in vicelike grips on either of her shoulders as they manuevered her firmly towards the doors.
"Oh please, please," Zelda pleaded in her mind, not entirely sure who or what she was pleading to, other than that it was some divine force. Perhaps Nayru or Din or even one of the sages. It mattered not, so long as someone listened to her. "Let him be satisfied to simply ruin my life. Don't let him ruin the life of others in addition. Please let him leave all alone."
The king went back to his meeting as if the interruption had never happened. He had far too much on the mind to let his daughter's uncharacteristic behavior bother him. Terminia, for example. Just what they were planning he wasn't sure, but he didn't like the sound of events taking place there at all, whispers of rebellion and shadows of..
The king shuddered and cut that thought off abruptly. Even in his mind, he was wary of putting a name to his own fears.'Twas most unwise.
So Malon and Link were getting married tomorrow. Before Link left for Terminia with him, then. Hmm..not much time, but he could fix things up, he was sure. Fix things up for himself, which of course, assured that for everyone else, the transition would be a miserable one.
-------------