A/N: Goodness gracious, most bodacious! My first review. And it wasn't even
a flame! Thank you, Dragon Scales! The honour is yours, and I now owe you
the debt of my life, my soul and my body, till I am eaten away by maggots.
Or maybe, I'll just give you an Author's Note, as I can already see the
logistical problems which would arise with the owning of dead, maggot-
infested body. Though the soul would be handy to have around. Can never
have enough souls, kids! Always smart to keep one handy in case one has to
be sold to the devil. What am I going one about? Well, the first to answer
that is given a degree in Abstract Philosophy and a virtual cookie. Away,
my beloved audience! The story awaits thee!
The trumpet fanfare echoed magnificently in the cathedral ceilings of the palace dancing hall. All heads swiveled towards the huge oak doors at one end of the chamber. A hush fell over the assembled crowd of dignitaries and officials as the last resonances of the musical announcement died away. The delicate glass chandeliers suspended well overhead bathed the guests in the soft, suffused glow of a thousand candles.
The light revealed the bored, faintly pompous expression on the face of a young man dressed in heavy, exotic robes standing next to a couple who were evidently his parents, both wearing extremely stern, patrician expressions. The family was standing a little ways parted from the main body, near the doors to which every face was currently turned.
With an echoing creak, and the swivel of large hinges turning in their pins, the doors swung open. Two footmen dressed in the livery of the Hyrule court rushed out and held the doors ajar.
The heralds again took up their call as two figures, arm in arm, appeared in the doorway. A third footman announced in a carrying voice to the assemblage – "His Majesty, the King of Hyrule, and Her Highness, the Princess Zelda."
The two royals began to move slowly out into the brilliant light of the vaulted hall. All guests bowed or curtseyed in varying degrees of reverence, dependant on their own statuses compared to the Royal Family. The young princeling and the Monarchs of Terabith barely inclined their heads, the looks of vague disdain never erring.
Zelda sighed inwardly as soon as she caught sight of them lingering on the edge of the guests, immediately guessing their identities. She made a half- hearted attempt to walk on past, but her father simply held her arm tightly - to prevent escape, no doubt - and firmly steered her in their direction.
Coming to a stop in front of the three foreigners, Zelda got her first good look at the man...well, boy...with whom her father was proposing she spend the rest of her natural life.
Her first impression was one of slight sickliness; his skin was sallow and milky, and it pulled tightly across his cheekbones. This surprised her somewhat, as the Terabithians were generally a dark-skinned people, owing to their fiercely hot climate and agricultural lifestyles. This young heir appeared to be the exception to the rule, though Zelda would be surprised if he had had hardly an excuse to step out of doors in his entire life.
It was not the wan, ashen colour of his face which irked Zelda the most, however. It was the snooty expression as this adolescent appraised her entire length, as though she were a horse he was intending to buy, and wished to check for defects. Zelda wondered flippantly if he would call for a stool and inspect her teeth, or would encourage her to do a quick trot around the length of the hall.
"Lord Thestrop, Lady Armidale. We welcome you, as honoured guests of Hyrule." The King slipped into an unusually deep bow, which Zelda was forced to mirror with an equally respectful curtsey. His countenance was uncommonly grave. She reflected how heavily the success of this agreement must weigh on her father.
However, she quickly remembered how he intended to achieve that aim, and scowled involuntarily. She was certainly not prepared to forgive him yet.
The two older nobles noted her frown, presuming it was intended for them. The Lady huffed indignantly, while the Lord regarded the King with disapproval and something akin to suspicion.
The King hurriedly waved to the royal attendants to be at ease, a signal for the rest of the guests to resume their laughter and conversation. The strains of several Hyrulian pipers began drifting pleasantly through the room.
"May I present my daughter, Zelda?" The King gestured tactfully to the Terabithians, while giving the princess a pointed look in which she was clearly told to behave.
He continued on, a slight firmness in his tone. "She has been most eager to meet you. Indeed, she is most delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Master Ferdgin." Zelda curved her reluctant mouth into a smile, and dipped into another curtsey. "Delighted, sirs and madam."
The Lord Prince quickly looked her over, before sniffing dismissively and turning his attention back to the King. Zelda's blood boiled at this lack of deference, yet she maintained a polite exterior. Technically, she outranked every one of the arrogant nobles, a fact she longed to point out in their presence.
However, her deep-rooted, habitual respect for her father's political position restrained her, though the desire to throttle every one of them was steadily growing overpowering.
"And she has been informed of the arrangement, I presume?" The Lord's tone was witheringly contemptuous, as though she were no more than a distant third party in the proceedings.
Zelda noted with pleasure the slight tensing of a muscle in her father's cheek, a sure sign he was irritated as well by this pompous idiot. The King betrayed no displeasure to the Terabithians however, and responded in a perfectly even voice. "She has. The Princess is willing to accept these terms."
The Lady laid a gloved hand on her husband's arm. "Perhaps we should let the children talk amongst themselves for a while." she whispered rather loudly into his ear.
The princeling broke off into sniggering laughter, and Zelda very forcibly restrained herself from rolling her eyes.
The Lord threw Zelda a censorious glance, and turned back to his wife. "Would that be entirely proper? Without accompaniment?" The King noted his daughter's growing annoyance, which her mouth was parting to express, and quickly took the situation into his own hands.
"Thestrop, Armidale, will you not join me in a sampling of your excellent ales? I have heard many fine tales of your southern shire's brew..." The King steered the Lord and Lady quickly away towards the table of food and drink. That left Zelda to deal with the young Master Ferdgin.
Biting back on yet another groan, Zelda decided it was time to make the best of a bad situation. Turning to the now sneering princeling, she swallowed and inwardly attempted to fortify her patience.
"Tell me, Master Ferdgin, are you fond of dancing?" Zelda asked politely, careful to keep her tone respectful. The young man turned to her with faint surprise, as though he were shocked she knew how to speak when not instructed. Zelda gestured half-heartedly to the small group of younger nobles twirling and laughing in front of the pipers, while other guests looked on.
"Not particularly." he answered, now sounding thoroughly bored. Zelda was not amazed to discover he had a thin, reedy voice, barely into his manhood. He must be no more than fifteen, she thought dismally.
"Well, I'm not overly taken with it myself." She managed a laugh which sounded remarkably tinny to her ears. Enacting no response aside from a scornful silence, she cleared her throat and valiantly tried again.
"I trust your journey here was at least agreeable?" The youth threw her a withering glare. "It was hot, dusty, long and boring. Father would not allow me to ride ahead with the advance guard, so I had to sit in a litter with my mother." Zelda frowned.
"Surely, you could not have expected to ride with the guard? Why, you are far too young." In hindsight, she realised these were perhaps not the wisest words to ever escape her lips – a thought confirmed by the sight of the adolescent now puffing himself up with wounded pride. Zelda hastily intervened before he called for his parents – or worse, burst into tears - and left the castle in a huff.
"I am sure, however, that your undoubtedly admirable horsemanship would render you as adequate as any of your father's soldiers." This seemed to console him, at least momentarily, and Zelda expelled a breath she wasn't aware she had withheld.
"Well," he began, vanity stroked, "Mother did say it was ridiculous, as I was always better than my classmates with the sword. Mother says it's in my noble blood. She said she would rather noble blood protecting her than some nasty commoner blood."
Zelda simply nodded in what she fervently hoped was an appreciative manner, as an appropriate response that did not involve insults to such ridiculous snobbery presently eluded her.
The princeling stared her down in what seemed to be as close to a grudging appreciation as he could manage. "I suppose your blood's quite noble. Perhaps it won't so bad, having to marry you." The Princess murmured her concurrence and bowed her head so he wouldn't catch her grimace. Despite a deeply painful mental anguish at the thought of having to forbear this insufferable brat for the rest of her life, she rearranged her face into what was hopefully a bright expression and lifted her head.
"Well, all this talk of blood is so off-putting, do you not think? I propose we rejoin our parents and find ourselves refreshments."
The heir to Terabith lifted his nose in an unbearably knowing expression, as he brushed past. "Well, you are just a girl, you know. I wouldn't expect you to have the constitution to speak of things that are a man's duty. I suspect we shall find little to talk about with each other, as I am only interested in the business of men that females are not to know of."
Zelda admirably curbed the urge to soundly thrash the impudent child about the ears, and instead gestured to the awaiting party. She did not trust herself to speak.
Many hours later, Zelda had returned to her chambers and was relaxing in the confines of a warm bath. She certainly deserved it. The entire occasion had been tortuous at its very best. She had been pulled aside twice by the Lady Armidale, who had warned her through pinched lips that she was not to address 'crude subject matter' when conversing with her precious son, which apparently included any hint of their awaiting nuptials.
How her son informing her that, due to their unfortunately differing sexes, they would never speak to each other for the course of their marriage constituted 'crude subject matter' was a riddle she was unwilling to tackle in her presently exhausted state.
The Lord Thestrop had thankfully not spoken with her again after their first joyful encounter, but simply held her several times on the receiving end of his frowning, disapproving stares.
As for the Master Ferdgin himself, he had been content to ignore Zelda for the rest of the evening (something which hardly broke her heart) and instead loudly complain to his parents about the various shortcomings of Hyrule he had noted so far.
Nothing was exempt, from the food, to the wine, to the manner of ladies' dress - far too conservative in his wise opinion – to how 'boring' the dances were, and how unequalled any prospective partners of the room were to his own skill, despite his earlier protests that he did not enjoy the pastime.
Zelda's jaw ground involuntarily whenever the idea of wedding the heir to Terabith sprung to mind. Sinking lower into the bath, she tried to put the whole sorry affair from her mind. Tomorrow, she would set about negotiating (pleading...begging...) with her father to excuse her obligation from this marriage. Until then, Zelda decided, it would be best to think on other things.
The washroom was awfully warm. Steam drifted steadily upwards from the bath and two large urns standing nearby, should the Princess require more hot water. Zelda closed her eyes and relaxed, focusing simply on the luxurious feel of warm water submersing her skin. Baths were a luxury reserved for nobility; even Zelda rarely bathed in this manner. They were a treat she reserved for special occasions...or in tonight's case, to reward herself for holding her tongue.
The combination of the wine she had consumed earlier and the heady temperature in the little chamber was making Zelda feel distinctly drowsy. Closing her eyes, she dropped into a half-doze. Her mind wandered, away from the burdensome cares and worries and duties of her station, to happier days.
The main courtyard of the castle swum lazily into view, and she saw herself, a little girl, spying on a fearsome Gerudo stranger paying obeisance to her father. She remembered how startled she had been to feel the roughly callused hand on her shoulder, before she turned and looked for the first time into the dark blue eyes which would haunt her sleep for the next seven years.
She could still recall the quiet intensity of his expression, the slightly gaunt hollowness about his wild face. Her very first thought was of a wood nymph, which had taken human form and was here to revenge themselves for some crushing of a plant under her horse's hoof.
But he had not been a creature of the spirit world, though the Kokiri were perhaps the closest to forest creatures of all Hyruliens. He was here because he shared her recent propensity to troubling dreams, and had been told by the Great Guardian, the Deku Tree, that fate called him to fulfill the prophecy of the Triforce...alongside Zelda.
Her mind flew, dreamlike, through the despair and terror of the seven years which followed, and the powerful artifact which now bound them both eternally to Ganondorf. Which even now, ran through her veins.
Opening her eyes, Zelda sat up in the tub. Unconsciously, she lifted her right hand, and traced the faint outline of three triangles which still lay there. How odd. It had been years since she had thought on that time, so many years ago – a memory she was mostly quite willing to forget. She wondered what had drawn her there now.
The trumpet fanfare echoed magnificently in the cathedral ceilings of the palace dancing hall. All heads swiveled towards the huge oak doors at one end of the chamber. A hush fell over the assembled crowd of dignitaries and officials as the last resonances of the musical announcement died away. The delicate glass chandeliers suspended well overhead bathed the guests in the soft, suffused glow of a thousand candles.
The light revealed the bored, faintly pompous expression on the face of a young man dressed in heavy, exotic robes standing next to a couple who were evidently his parents, both wearing extremely stern, patrician expressions. The family was standing a little ways parted from the main body, near the doors to which every face was currently turned.
With an echoing creak, and the swivel of large hinges turning in their pins, the doors swung open. Two footmen dressed in the livery of the Hyrule court rushed out and held the doors ajar.
The heralds again took up their call as two figures, arm in arm, appeared in the doorway. A third footman announced in a carrying voice to the assemblage – "His Majesty, the King of Hyrule, and Her Highness, the Princess Zelda."
The two royals began to move slowly out into the brilliant light of the vaulted hall. All guests bowed or curtseyed in varying degrees of reverence, dependant on their own statuses compared to the Royal Family. The young princeling and the Monarchs of Terabith barely inclined their heads, the looks of vague disdain never erring.
Zelda sighed inwardly as soon as she caught sight of them lingering on the edge of the guests, immediately guessing their identities. She made a half- hearted attempt to walk on past, but her father simply held her arm tightly - to prevent escape, no doubt - and firmly steered her in their direction.
Coming to a stop in front of the three foreigners, Zelda got her first good look at the man...well, boy...with whom her father was proposing she spend the rest of her natural life.
Her first impression was one of slight sickliness; his skin was sallow and milky, and it pulled tightly across his cheekbones. This surprised her somewhat, as the Terabithians were generally a dark-skinned people, owing to their fiercely hot climate and agricultural lifestyles. This young heir appeared to be the exception to the rule, though Zelda would be surprised if he had had hardly an excuse to step out of doors in his entire life.
It was not the wan, ashen colour of his face which irked Zelda the most, however. It was the snooty expression as this adolescent appraised her entire length, as though she were a horse he was intending to buy, and wished to check for defects. Zelda wondered flippantly if he would call for a stool and inspect her teeth, or would encourage her to do a quick trot around the length of the hall.
"Lord Thestrop, Lady Armidale. We welcome you, as honoured guests of Hyrule." The King slipped into an unusually deep bow, which Zelda was forced to mirror with an equally respectful curtsey. His countenance was uncommonly grave. She reflected how heavily the success of this agreement must weigh on her father.
However, she quickly remembered how he intended to achieve that aim, and scowled involuntarily. She was certainly not prepared to forgive him yet.
The two older nobles noted her frown, presuming it was intended for them. The Lady huffed indignantly, while the Lord regarded the King with disapproval and something akin to suspicion.
The King hurriedly waved to the royal attendants to be at ease, a signal for the rest of the guests to resume their laughter and conversation. The strains of several Hyrulian pipers began drifting pleasantly through the room.
"May I present my daughter, Zelda?" The King gestured tactfully to the Terabithians, while giving the princess a pointed look in which she was clearly told to behave.
He continued on, a slight firmness in his tone. "She has been most eager to meet you. Indeed, she is most delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Master Ferdgin." Zelda curved her reluctant mouth into a smile, and dipped into another curtsey. "Delighted, sirs and madam."
The Lord Prince quickly looked her over, before sniffing dismissively and turning his attention back to the King. Zelda's blood boiled at this lack of deference, yet she maintained a polite exterior. Technically, she outranked every one of the arrogant nobles, a fact she longed to point out in their presence.
However, her deep-rooted, habitual respect for her father's political position restrained her, though the desire to throttle every one of them was steadily growing overpowering.
"And she has been informed of the arrangement, I presume?" The Lord's tone was witheringly contemptuous, as though she were no more than a distant third party in the proceedings.
Zelda noted with pleasure the slight tensing of a muscle in her father's cheek, a sure sign he was irritated as well by this pompous idiot. The King betrayed no displeasure to the Terabithians however, and responded in a perfectly even voice. "She has. The Princess is willing to accept these terms."
The Lady laid a gloved hand on her husband's arm. "Perhaps we should let the children talk amongst themselves for a while." she whispered rather loudly into his ear.
The princeling broke off into sniggering laughter, and Zelda very forcibly restrained herself from rolling her eyes.
The Lord threw Zelda a censorious glance, and turned back to his wife. "Would that be entirely proper? Without accompaniment?" The King noted his daughter's growing annoyance, which her mouth was parting to express, and quickly took the situation into his own hands.
"Thestrop, Armidale, will you not join me in a sampling of your excellent ales? I have heard many fine tales of your southern shire's brew..." The King steered the Lord and Lady quickly away towards the table of food and drink. That left Zelda to deal with the young Master Ferdgin.
Biting back on yet another groan, Zelda decided it was time to make the best of a bad situation. Turning to the now sneering princeling, she swallowed and inwardly attempted to fortify her patience.
"Tell me, Master Ferdgin, are you fond of dancing?" Zelda asked politely, careful to keep her tone respectful. The young man turned to her with faint surprise, as though he were shocked she knew how to speak when not instructed. Zelda gestured half-heartedly to the small group of younger nobles twirling and laughing in front of the pipers, while other guests looked on.
"Not particularly." he answered, now sounding thoroughly bored. Zelda was not amazed to discover he had a thin, reedy voice, barely into his manhood. He must be no more than fifteen, she thought dismally.
"Well, I'm not overly taken with it myself." She managed a laugh which sounded remarkably tinny to her ears. Enacting no response aside from a scornful silence, she cleared her throat and valiantly tried again.
"I trust your journey here was at least agreeable?" The youth threw her a withering glare. "It was hot, dusty, long and boring. Father would not allow me to ride ahead with the advance guard, so I had to sit in a litter with my mother." Zelda frowned.
"Surely, you could not have expected to ride with the guard? Why, you are far too young." In hindsight, she realised these were perhaps not the wisest words to ever escape her lips – a thought confirmed by the sight of the adolescent now puffing himself up with wounded pride. Zelda hastily intervened before he called for his parents – or worse, burst into tears - and left the castle in a huff.
"I am sure, however, that your undoubtedly admirable horsemanship would render you as adequate as any of your father's soldiers." This seemed to console him, at least momentarily, and Zelda expelled a breath she wasn't aware she had withheld.
"Well," he began, vanity stroked, "Mother did say it was ridiculous, as I was always better than my classmates with the sword. Mother says it's in my noble blood. She said she would rather noble blood protecting her than some nasty commoner blood."
Zelda simply nodded in what she fervently hoped was an appreciative manner, as an appropriate response that did not involve insults to such ridiculous snobbery presently eluded her.
The princeling stared her down in what seemed to be as close to a grudging appreciation as he could manage. "I suppose your blood's quite noble. Perhaps it won't so bad, having to marry you." The Princess murmured her concurrence and bowed her head so he wouldn't catch her grimace. Despite a deeply painful mental anguish at the thought of having to forbear this insufferable brat for the rest of her life, she rearranged her face into what was hopefully a bright expression and lifted her head.
"Well, all this talk of blood is so off-putting, do you not think? I propose we rejoin our parents and find ourselves refreshments."
The heir to Terabith lifted his nose in an unbearably knowing expression, as he brushed past. "Well, you are just a girl, you know. I wouldn't expect you to have the constitution to speak of things that are a man's duty. I suspect we shall find little to talk about with each other, as I am only interested in the business of men that females are not to know of."
Zelda admirably curbed the urge to soundly thrash the impudent child about the ears, and instead gestured to the awaiting party. She did not trust herself to speak.
Many hours later, Zelda had returned to her chambers and was relaxing in the confines of a warm bath. She certainly deserved it. The entire occasion had been tortuous at its very best. She had been pulled aside twice by the Lady Armidale, who had warned her through pinched lips that she was not to address 'crude subject matter' when conversing with her precious son, which apparently included any hint of their awaiting nuptials.
How her son informing her that, due to their unfortunately differing sexes, they would never speak to each other for the course of their marriage constituted 'crude subject matter' was a riddle she was unwilling to tackle in her presently exhausted state.
The Lord Thestrop had thankfully not spoken with her again after their first joyful encounter, but simply held her several times on the receiving end of his frowning, disapproving stares.
As for the Master Ferdgin himself, he had been content to ignore Zelda for the rest of the evening (something which hardly broke her heart) and instead loudly complain to his parents about the various shortcomings of Hyrule he had noted so far.
Nothing was exempt, from the food, to the wine, to the manner of ladies' dress - far too conservative in his wise opinion – to how 'boring' the dances were, and how unequalled any prospective partners of the room were to his own skill, despite his earlier protests that he did not enjoy the pastime.
Zelda's jaw ground involuntarily whenever the idea of wedding the heir to Terabith sprung to mind. Sinking lower into the bath, she tried to put the whole sorry affair from her mind. Tomorrow, she would set about negotiating (pleading...begging...) with her father to excuse her obligation from this marriage. Until then, Zelda decided, it would be best to think on other things.
The washroom was awfully warm. Steam drifted steadily upwards from the bath and two large urns standing nearby, should the Princess require more hot water. Zelda closed her eyes and relaxed, focusing simply on the luxurious feel of warm water submersing her skin. Baths were a luxury reserved for nobility; even Zelda rarely bathed in this manner. They were a treat she reserved for special occasions...or in tonight's case, to reward herself for holding her tongue.
The combination of the wine she had consumed earlier and the heady temperature in the little chamber was making Zelda feel distinctly drowsy. Closing her eyes, she dropped into a half-doze. Her mind wandered, away from the burdensome cares and worries and duties of her station, to happier days.
The main courtyard of the castle swum lazily into view, and she saw herself, a little girl, spying on a fearsome Gerudo stranger paying obeisance to her father. She remembered how startled she had been to feel the roughly callused hand on her shoulder, before she turned and looked for the first time into the dark blue eyes which would haunt her sleep for the next seven years.
She could still recall the quiet intensity of his expression, the slightly gaunt hollowness about his wild face. Her very first thought was of a wood nymph, which had taken human form and was here to revenge themselves for some crushing of a plant under her horse's hoof.
But he had not been a creature of the spirit world, though the Kokiri were perhaps the closest to forest creatures of all Hyruliens. He was here because he shared her recent propensity to troubling dreams, and had been told by the Great Guardian, the Deku Tree, that fate called him to fulfill the prophecy of the Triforce...alongside Zelda.
Her mind flew, dreamlike, through the despair and terror of the seven years which followed, and the powerful artifact which now bound them both eternally to Ganondorf. Which even now, ran through her veins.
Opening her eyes, Zelda sat up in the tub. Unconsciously, she lifted her right hand, and traced the faint outline of three triangles which still lay there. How odd. It had been years since she had thought on that time, so many years ago – a memory she was mostly quite willing to forget. She wondered what had drawn her there now.