By now, Zelda is long used to the reverential silence that fell as soon as she entered any room, but it still never feels quite natural. She had never commanded such respect as a child in the castle, however carefully she strove to imitate her parents, and the practice beginning the very day she took the throne felt terribly jarring.
And so it is that when the crowd of volunteer recruits turn their collective gazes to the queen as she enters the courtyard, all laughter and bragging and the clanging of weapons and armor ceases at once, and she has to make an effort to greet them with her warmest smile. "Good afternoon. What an honor it is to see so many proud warriors eager to defend Hyrule." She knows, as does every single recruit before her, that the new swell of interest in joining the royal guard has nothing to do with national pride and everything to do with the recent announcement that they would be learning combat skills directly from the now-legendary Hero.
Captain Lee knows it as well, and the amusement in his voice is poorly concealed as he calls, "Would you care to join us, your Majesty? We're just getting started."
Truthfully, Zelda had come down to the barracks in the hopes of practicing her swordplay, which was becoming slow and clumsy as she fell out of practice, and had completely forgotten that today was the day that Lee and his commanders planned to test the merit of the hopeful new troops. After the monumental failure of his soldiers when monsters stalked the land, he was determined to weed out the weak and craven and replace the shamed knights with men of proven valor. Hyrule could ill afford to maintain a standing army, ravenous beasts that they are, but the queens had ordered the captain to muster forces to patrol the major roadways and cities of the kingdom until every last trace of monsters is removed, hopefully restoring their once shining image.
Examining the motley crowd before her, she only hopes he can acquit himself admirably.
The captain is still looking at her, and Zelda accepts his invitation, curious to see for herself how the hopefuls perform. Though she had originally planned to work with Commander Serrin, she avoids meeting his eye before such a crowd, lest he ask her to demonstrate her rusty fighting skills to them. She moves to stand beside Commander Tormand instead, who greets her with a raised hand and a warm smile.
He glances at her. "Where's your shadow?" he murmurs, not unkindly.
"Kakariko. There are two Twili families moving into empty homes there." She sighs. "Midna thinks they're insane for wanting to come to this world, I hope she isn't trying to talk them out of it."
He frowns. "Sounds important. Should you be there for that?"
Privately, she agrees, but Zelda shakes her head. "We thought it would be less overwhelming if it was just Midna there. I joined them while they chose their houses; we couldn't allow them to build their own. Not until their architects become familiar with the demands of our environment and how to work our materials."
The topic is one that she can go on about at great length, and had already been required to do so to ease the offense that said architects had taken when she had blocked their construction plans. Fortunately, Tormand only replies, "Best of luck to them, I suppose. When I first moved to Castle Town, I felt like I was in a completely different world, and that was hard enough."
Any further conversation is drowned out by Lee barking a command to establish some semblance of order, the crowd to be parted into groups determined by their familiarity with combat and level of physical fitness. A series of tests had been designed for this purpose, ones which the captain and his commanders had spent many hours fine tuning. Zelda had to commend them for taking the task seriously; they had agonized over the planning until arguments broke out and Zelda was called upon to break stalemates.
Each group is presided over by a soldier, carefully selected to present an image of strength and fraternity, all of them capable but friendly warriors. Zelda sees Link amongst them. His recruits stare at him fervently, and she knows too well how the attention must feel. If he feels any discomfort, however, he hides it well, his natural charisma leaving an easy smile on his face.
The exercises run better than she had expected, or perhaps her expectations had been set unfairly low. As anticipated, the vast majority of the hopefuls are reasonably physically fit but lack control, opting for brute force over finesse to tackle the challenges put before them. The soldiers separate them into different groups based on their performance, and while the majority of the applicants had been rejected, there are more approved for further training than Zelda had hoped for. At last, there are no further tests to put before them, and Captain Lee calls for attention before turning to the queen.
"It is good of you to come spend time with us today, your Majesty. It is your family, your home, and your people that we soldiers are here to defend, and so I greatly value your opinion. Tell me, is there anything further you wish to see before we accept this lot into our ranks?"
She thinks it over a moment, then summons the bow of light, the great war bow that the light spirits had conjured for her. After Ganondorf had been defeated, they had not asked for its return, and Zelda had been perfectly content not giving up the powerful and gleaming weapon. She holds it up above her head and raises her voice. "As the good captain has said, one of the primary tasks of the royal guard is to defend my wife and myself. I have little need of a soldier who is not at least as strong as I am. To that end, I would ask that each of you simply string my bow here." She hands it out to Commander Tormand.
With ill-concealed excitement to be handling such a magical weapon, he takes the bow of light from her, unstrings it with an expert hand, and turns to the crowd to explain how one restrings a bow. Though it had been many years since Zelda had received this instruction herself, the memory is a fond one, and the familiarity is welcome. She remembers well how she felt so strong and capable when stringing her little bow by herself as a child, and how she had hit the target on only her third shot. She remembers the warm glow of pride as she watched Tormand praise her performance to the king and queen, how they had smiled so warmly and showered her with compliments.
How their smiles faded when she proclaimed, small and boastful as a bantam rooster, that she would be the finest knight Hyrule ever saw.
The warm memory turns bitter. Her thoughts turn, as they often do, to the argument she had with Midna a week ago. In the morning, Midna had apologized for upsetting her, reiterating that she only wanted Zelda to be happy, and to support her in any endeavor. In another setting, she may have been touched by the kind sentiment from her friend, but with her mood still foul, she had only ground out the most basic niceties before fleeing the room, vowing to never speak of the matter again. Oh yes, why not choose a different life for yourself, Zelda? It's easy for her to say, isn't it? She didn't plan to be queen but she still chose it, didn't she? She could have walked away from the crown, let it go to anyone else...
Before her, Tormand had finished with his instruction, and he hands the bow off to the first of the recruits, who struggles to bend it. It's ugly of her, but the sight is gratifying, and Zelda allows herself a moment of satisfaction that she can prevail where this man, at least, cannot.
All of the volunteers take their turn, and the group of accepted soldiers is further reduced. Zelda is pleased to see that more than one woman had joined the host of men, handling their weapons with a familiar ease. One such woman, with black hair, men's trousers, and enormous steel gauntlets, approaches Link, who gives a cry of greeting and claps her on the shoulder. Upon seeing Link again, Zelda recalls that she had meant to tell him something, but the details escape her. Frustrated, she bids them all farewell, and returns to her chambers.
On the table in her sitting room is a painfully lengthy list of reminders, the result of having messages pressed into her hand at every hour of the day. When Midna had first seen the list, she had teased her wife for her forgetfulness, and Zelda decided it was easier to let her see for herself than to try to correct her. As she expected, Midna never brought up the matter again, but began keeping one herself after only a week or two.
Scanning her reminders for Link's name, she sees that the Zora painter Daneia had completed her portrait of him. Zelda had not yet seen it herself, and she quickly writes a note to the Hero, inviting him to come inspect the finished piece, and asks if the queens might be able to join him.
As she finishes, she feels a hand on her shoulder as someone leans far too close behind her, and looks up to see Midna peering down at the note. "You know, Zelda," she says in lieu of a greeting, "I don't think Link gives a damn about that painting. You're probably more curious than he is."
"Do you think so? Surely after all the time he spent sitting for it, he would at least want to see if it was worth the effort." Midna only grunts in response, and draws back. She throws herself instead into an armchair before the fireplace, stretching leisurely.
Zelda looks over at her. "How did it go in Kakariko today?"
"Not bad. It was good to see the faces of my own people again, and speak to them normally. It's not fun being the only one of my kind around here, and it was nice that nobody was staring at me today." Zelda raises an eyebrow; while she has sympathy for her wife's discomfort, she had reminded her multiple times that she was by no means required to live in the world of light. In the several weeks since their wedding, Midna had received many invitations from her cousin and her friends to return to the palace for a visit, yet Zelda could count on one hand the number of times she had accepted. It pains her to see her dear friend isolate herself, though she rather wishes she had not been made complicit in it.
Unaware of Zelda's musing, Midna continues. "There was a pair of artists with a little girl who they want to experience a new world, and the kid sure seemed interested in all the new things around her. I'm sure she'll get up to plenty of good mischief," she adds approvingly, laughing when Zelda shakes her head.
Her smile is quick to drop away, however. "The other family is an older couple who told me that they had just lost their children. They wanted a change, a big one. You know how everywhere in the Twilight Realm looks the same, it reminds them of what they lost." She looks down at her hands in her lap, her voice growing very soft. "It didn't feel like home anymore. I get that."
Is that why you refuse to return, then? Is this the real reason you asked for my hand? For half a minute, the only sound in the room is the crackling of the flames, before Zelda speaks up, determined to put an end to any brooding before it can begin. "I hope that Hyrule will be as home to them, then. Did their neighbors seem welcoming, at least?"
She hums in assent. "There doesn't seem to be a mayor right now but the shaman was there to greet us, Renado? We saw him at the Zora ceremony last week. He was friendly enough. Not too many people living in the village aside from him and his kid but a few poked their heads out. They seemed a bit shy, but not rude or anything. Oh!" Midna seems to remember something, sitting up straighter and turning in her chair to face Zelda. "One guy asked them if they were going to an event tomorrow night, a meteor shower? Is that something we'll need to be present at?"
"No, it isn't. It is a natural phenomenon that people like to watch, where stars streak against the night sky. It's quite beautiful, but nothing formal."
"Shall we go, then?"
Zelda looks at her, rather surprised by her interest in a completely optional outing. It would be good to get out of the castle, at least. And I can only hope that it might make her happy. "Yes, I think that would be nice," she says, and when Midna beams in return, she cannot help but think it's a smile she'd like to see more often.
Though the next day is uneventful, Midna's growing excitement has the odd effect of warping time to both rush and inch past. Zelda makes a few attempts in the morning to temper her expectations, for she is clearly anticipating a truly dramatic spectacle, but as the day wears on it's with only a small amount of guilt that she gives up. It is far more pleasant to allow her good mood to spread until even Zelda is infected with it. It isn't often, after all, that the queens may partake in a completely casual public occasion without anything expected of them. Even festivals require their presence at the opening and closing addresses, to say nothing of the weeks of planning before them.
Finally, the day nears its end. In preparation for spending the night lying in the field, Zelda changes into a linen frock, easily one of the most informal dresses in her wardrobe, and wears her hair down. She cannot help but feel rather self-conscious in such a state, but if Midna thinks anything of it as they reconvene at the castle's entrance, she wisely keeps it to herself. Once they are joined by a pair of guards, they set off.
Their destination is under an hour's walk north of Castle Town, as the dense forests circling the southern fields force a narrower view of the stars. The ground is firm and level and the evening is pleasantly cool, but Zelda notices Midna begin to tire hardly a mile into the journey, and slows her pace to match.
Midna glances at her and shakes her head, forestalling any questions of concern. "I'm fine. Just not used to walking much."
"Would you like to warp the rest of the way? I don't mind continuing on my own."
She shrugs. "Nah. Beats sitting around in the castle by myself. And it's nice to have your company."
Mild as it is, the praise warms Zelda, and she smiles. "I am glad you're here. You know, we could find some more activities to do in the evenings, something we'll both enjoy." Midna makes a non-committal noise, and she continues. "Board games, puzzles, card games-"
Midna cuts her off with a derisive snort. "I know what you're doing. You know, I used to think you were the kindest, gentlest woman in the world."
Zelda has an inkling of where she's going with this, and responds effusively. "How very sweet of you."
"And then I played a round of cards with you. You're a monster." Her tone is one of pure disgust, but Zelda's laugh is unrepentant. Midna had refused to play more than that one round with her wife that evening, or any evening since, her competitive nature stung by her utter defeat. Zelda had toyed with the idea of asking to learn some Twili game instead, but rather doubted that Midna would fairly and clearly explain all of the rules to her opponent.
The sun is below the tree line by the time they reach North Hyrule Field, and they find that their blanket is hardly the first to be spread over its emerald expanse. The gently rolling hills are dotted through with clusters of people of all ages and races, their excited chatter filling the air with a low murmur of anticipation that Zelda senses as surely as any breeze. As the sky continues to darken, the field becomes dotted with the lights of cookfires and, fainter but livelier, the glowing bodies of the curious Twili who had ventured into the world of light to see this new event. Together, they form constellations of their own, sprawled out beneath the stars.
The queens select a spot to lay out their blanket, their guards tagging well behind to offer some privacy, and lay outstretched on their backs with their hands under their heads. Zelda thinks of the thick, dark clouds that always seem to smother the sky in the Twilight Realm, and turns her head to her wife. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen the stars in the Twilight Realm. Are there any there?"
Midna is looking up at the wide expanse of the sky with great interest, her eyes darting around eagerly. "Dunno. I'd never seen stars until I came here." She sounds distracted, and Zelda smiles, turning her face back towards the heavens. The night is cool but pleasant, likely as warm as it will be until Hyrule emerges on the other side of winter, and the woolen blanket is soft against her skin. Zelda takes a deep breath, a breeze carrying in the smells of woodsmoke and charred meat from the field's other inhabitants.
Only a few minutes pass before she feels the body beside her squirm with impatience. "When do the stars start falling?"
"Oh, we don't know when it will start. Perhaps it already did. It can go on for hours, and it can be a good wait between each one." Midna sits bolt upright, staring at her incredulously, but Zelda remains reclined. "And they're not stars, technically. More like giant rocks. One fell on Snowpeak, when Papa was young, there were all sorts of researchers buzzing around the mountain for weeks. He said it was all charred, as if by flame. That's what we're seeing, rocks burning in the air."
Midna waves a hand dismissively, brushing away the technical details. "Hours? So all these people are going to just sit in this field all night?"
"Yes!" She beams up at her, holding back the urge to laugh at that exaggerated frown, not wanting to goad her into returning to the castle for the night instead.
"And you've done this before?" Zelda nods, and Midna throws herself back down with a huff. She crosses and uncrosses her legs in agitation, the faint rasp of her metal anklet against wool barely audible in the quiet night.
"It better be good," she says threateningly, although when Zelda looks at her she sees a faint smile on her face, her excitement returning in spite of herself.
The better part of an hour passes before the first streak across the sky is sighted, and the hushed field breaks out in gasps and excited murmurs. At her side, Zelda feels Midna tense. "I don't see anything," she whispers. "Is it still there?"
"It lasts hardly a second. But there will be plenty more." Midna pouts in disappointment, but to Zelda's relief, says no more.
Only a minute later, whispers break across the field again, and this time Zelda catches sight of the meteor, the bright line burned into her vision after it vanishes. From her sharp intake of breath, Midna had seen it as well. Zelda turns her head to see her grinning widely. "I saw that one!" she says excitedly, and Zelda cannot help but smile back at her wife's enthusiasm.
Their interest growing, they lay side by side, exclaiming and pointing to each star that darts above them. A cool breeze picks up, and there's a great wave of movement over the field as the watchers huddle together or bundle themselves against the wind. Having only brought the one quilt, Midna tugs it out from beneath them and throws it on top, and they lay against the ground. The season is just early enough that the earth will not harden beneath them for hours more, and the yellowed grass has only just begun to dry out, still springy enough to offer some cushion.
After tucking the blanket around herself, Midna shuffles closer and slides an arm around her wife's shoulders. Though it's an action she has performed dozens of times before, a casual gesture of friendship and a practical source of warmth, Zelda feels flustered by the touch. She glances over at Midna, who does not look back, eyes intently sweeping across the heavens. Relax, she doesn't mean anything by it. Just try to enjoy the evening. She allows herself to be pulled back into the quiet anticipation of the crowd, though her awareness of her wife's touch lingers in the back of her mind.
With only the wheeling of the stars overhead to mark the passage of time, the night slips past. The breeze strengthens, and Midna inches still closer to her wife, squirming closer for warmth and making herself comfortable. Zelda's head ends up pillowed against the taller woman's chest, her shoulders brushed by Midna's silky hair. She doesn't mean anything by it...
Zelda casts about for something, anything, to distract herself.
"Did you know that people wish on falling stars? I would do that as a girl, but I don't think any adult believes they will come true," she muses.
Midna angles her head to look down at her. "What would you wish for?" she asks.
"Peace and prosperity for my kingdom," Zelda replies promptly. Midna groans.
"Yeah, yeah, we all want that. But after that?"
Zelda shakes her head. "That is the dearest wish in my heart, it has to be. No, really," she protests, hearing Midna draw in a breath to make some retort. "There have been times in Hyrule's history when the damage wrought upon the kingdom was so great, it required the use of the Triforce to restore it. The Triforce will only grant the deepest, most precious wish of those who touch it. We have a sacred duty to this land and must put it above all else."
Midna lays quietly for a very long time; two more meteors streak across the sky before she responds, her voice low and grave. "The gods gave your family and your kingdom so much power, and they have made your enemies and perils strong enough to match. The more I learn about it, the more I wonder why my ancestors even wanted that power in the first place. It feels more like a burden than anything."
Zelda gives a wry smile. How often have I thought the same thing? "The burden is the responsibility to use that power wisely, and to safeguard it. I imagine that those who have no intention of doing so see it as a source of freedom."
When Midna doesn't respond, she draws away from her, propping herself up on an elbow to look down at her. Her face is thoughtful, and Zelda cannot help her curiosity. "What would you wish for, then?"
She takes a long minute to consider the question. When she finally responds, the words begin slowly. "I would wish... that we could see the stars at home as well. This," she gestures above them with a broad sweep of her arm, "is… spectacular. I'm glad to be part of such a beautiful country."
It is the single most positive thing Zelda had ever heard her say about Hyrule, her voice lacking even a trace of mockery or bitterness. Surprised, Zelda leans over Midna, the better to scrutinize her expression.
Well, she seems sincere.
Midna looks back up at her wife, meeting her eyes directly.
When did I get so close to her?
It would probably be polite to pull away now.
I don't want to do that.
You're in public.
Is it a crime for a lady to look at her wife in public?
You want to do more than look.
Wouldn't that be absurd.
Midna still hasn't looked away. Zelda doesn't want her to.
She looks lovely tonight. Has she always looked like this?
Zelda kisses her.
She hadn't meant to, but once it registers what she had done, she doesn't want to stop.
Her eyes close before she can see Midna's expression of disbelief, eyes wide with shock before drifting shut as well. She doesn't hear her own muffled sigh of content over her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She doesn't see her hair fall into a curtain around them, thick and dark, sectioning them off from the rest of the open field and the celestial show above them.
What she does know is that Midna's skin, usually so cool, quickly warms beneath hers as blood rushes to her cheeks. Zelda shifts until she hovers over her, planting one hand onto the ground for leverage. Midna arches her back and Zelda slips her other arm beneath it without a thought, pulling the two closer together, hair and grass tickling her skin. Their noses bump together, and a giggle bubbles up from Zelda before she feels it coming. She draws Midna's bottom lip between her own, sucking it into her mouth to tease with her teeth and tongue before releasing it again. Her movements are automatic, drawn forth from a well of desire that had been so deep she hadn't known it existed.
Her head spins, out of control, but entirely certain that there is nothing more important in the world than Midna's impossibly soft lips moving beneath hers, or the hand that rises to the back of Zelda's head, carding through her hair and tugging her down further instead of pushing her away. She's intensely aware of the revealing nature of the Twili's skintight shadow clothing, and every inch of exposed skin against hers is smooth and warm and so, so sweet. Zelda aches to run her hands over her, to feel that softness beneath her fingers, but whatever rational part of her remains holds her back, clenching her fist around the grass instead. Her lungs begin to ask for air, then demand, then beg, but she cannot stop, cannot let this feeling end.
To Zelda's great disappointment, it's Midna who pulls away first, gasping for breath. Her narrow eyes are open wide, and in their crimson reflection, Zelda thinks she sees another meteor fall. I wish I hadn't done that. Barring that… I wish I'll get to do that again. Immediately, shame floods her, both for having pressed herself on her wife so suddenly, and for wasting a wish on something so selfish. You're not some girl dreaming of a white knight, you are a queen. Is this how a queen behaves?
"I'm sorry," she gasps. "Forgive me, Midna, I have no idea what came over me. That – that was completely unacceptable, and I promise I'll –"
But Midna places a finger on her lips, and once her babbling falls silent, she lifts it away again. Her other hand remains buried in Zelda's hair, who is as acutely aware of it as though it weighs a hundred pounds, but dares not withdraw. Midna considers her for a long, long minute, and Zelda squirms under her intense scrutiny, but the fingers in her hair and the arm that she now drapes across her back bind her stronger than any chains. She can do nothing but look down at the face below her, her beautiful wife, whose sharp features are made all the more dramatic in the darkness.
Zelda stares at her as though seeing her clearly for the first time. What artisans the gods of the Twilight Realm must be, for no woman of this world has ever matched such beauty. For all her skill, golden Farore could not have crafted one so fair.
They remain close together, too close, and Zelda feels her every breath puff across her skin. Finally, a sly grin unfurls across Midna's still-burning cheeks. "It was pretty acceptable to me, your Majesty," she teases, her lips so close that they barely brush against Zelda's. "May we do that again?"
Zelda trembles under her grasp, and nods more eagerly than she would like, her actions and emotions having wrenched themselves from her iron grip. The sharp teeth beneath her flash in laughter, and she only has time to blink before their mouths are connected again, before the hand in her hair clenches into a fist that pulls her down and down, and she obliges. It's an easy surrender, a sweet one, a fight that both parties can win.