Hero of the Zonai

by bladeofthebookworms

A brutal war between the Zonai and Sheikah peoples sends ripples throughout the kingdom. In the midst of the violence, a young Zonai warrior discovers a mysterious ancestor, who urges him to see beyond the plight of his people. For peace is elusive, and Hyrule's greatest threat has yet to emerge.

3. The King's Council

Chapter 3: The King's Council

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Zelda

Zelda's feet noticed the cold first – as they usually did. Half asleep, she tucked them closer to herself, huddling under blankets that had not yet been changed out for their warmer winter varieties. But other than the vague discomfort, the cold did not truly register as unusual until her maids arrived to ready her for the day.

An early frost, she thought after absently asking them to bring out her winter cloak and stockings. Not particularly good for our farmers.

It was early autumn as of yet. The increasing cold would be good for some crops, help them along their way towards ripening, but too much cold too soon could prove disastrous. As if we're not having a supply crisis in Hyrule already.

She doubted the cold – and its implications for Hyrule's agriculture – would make much of a difference to her father. She'd always thought him more bumbling than conniving, but inasmuch as higher taxes across the kingdom only served to swell his own coffers, she was beginning to doubt. Perhaps he's more driven by greed than I suspected.

"Where would you like to take your breakfast this morning, milady?" one of her maids asked, Zelda's cloak folded across one arm. Sophie was her name, and she had been tending to Zelda for most of her life.

"Castle Town's pastry shop," she answered. "Which is why I asked for my cloak, too."

One of the younger maids, Emma, winced. "You're sure you want to go out for breakfast?" she asked skeptically, buttoning the back of Zelda's dress. "It's so cold out today!"

Zelda resisted the urge to nod, wary of getting her hair in the way of the buttoning. "I'll be fine as long as the guards are willing to brave the cold with me," she smiled. "I'd wager Henya's pastries are the best in the kingdom." And the patronage of the Princess of Hyrule certainly wouldn't hurt the little old woman's struggling finances. With all the taxes going straight to my father, the least I can do is put some money back in the hands of the people.

"Well, you stay bundled up, then," Sophie sighed, shaking out the cloak of caribou hide and examining it with a critical eye for any bare patches. "And just let us know if you ever would like us to bring breakfast to you. We certainly don't mind."

"Thank you," Zelda nodded, kneeling on a cushion on the ground so that Alice, another senior maid, could do her hair. She preferred to keep it simple – two smaller braids down the sides of her face, one at the back of her head, and the rest of her hair hanging loose down her back. Her mother disapproved, of course, but then again, Helena Necluda Hyrule quite enjoyed her noble standing and believed that to not openly display her wealth was to disrespect the hardworking people from whence said wealth originated. And as such she wandered around with her hair ridiculously styled above her head, draped in jewelry and fine, elaborately embroidered silk from head to toe. Apparel was an almost daily argument between Zelda and her mother; as she prepared to leave her room she pocketed a small necklace with a pendant in the shape of Hyrule's winged crest. Compromise ammunition. Just in case.

Her bodyguard, a tall Sheikah woman named Inpa, had been standing just inside the doorway while the maids did their work – silent as the shadow warrior she was. As Zelda approached, she bowed politely in greeting, her stark white topknot bobbing slightly. "Good morning, Your Grace."

"You, too," Zelda said. "Up for a little cold?"

"It'll be just like the mountains back home," Inpa grinned. "I figured you wouldn't be deterred. Our escort is waiting just outside."

"Excellent. Any sign of Her Majesty yet today?" she asked, trying to keep the exasperation from her voice.

"None so far," Inpa reported. "So you'll either encounter her on your way out, or she's still asleep."

Zelda glanced through the window in her room, analyzing the sun's height. Mother's almost certainly awake by now. Her hand closed around the necklace in her pocket. Good thing I grabbed this, then. "I guess we'll find out," she murmured, leading the way out of her bedroom and nodding a greeting to the squad of guards standing outside. They nodded a greeting back, and she smiled. She had worked hard to befriend the inhabitants of the castle, or at least communicate to them that she was aware of their presence and appreciated them; seeing them respond to her as they did told her that they acknowledged her efforts, and hopefully appreciated them as well. I won't rule as my parents do, atop an ivory tower far above the rest of the world.

She and her entourage walked down a grand hall brightly lit with silvery morning light from its east-facing windows, then down a winding staircase that opened up into the King's great dining hall. A door to the side lead to the throne room; one of the two guards flanking it held it open for her, and she passed through. Almost free, then. Not a sign of Mother.

She stepped into the throne room, empty for now except for the occasional guards. Her heart lifted; she might be able to start this day off without a confrontation –

"Zelda, dear! Shall we begin?"

Zelda felt the familiar frustration bubbling up in her chest and turned around as her mother swept towards her from behind. "Good morning, Mother," she greeted, her tone clipped and even. "And I was actually planning on having breakfast in Castle Town, and then heading to the King's Council."

Helena's disappointment shone clearly on her face as her rouge painted lips drooped. "I – but – shouldn't you take a break from all that – that nonsense? Your father's handling the situation marvelously, and I need you, too!"

You and I have very different definitions of 'nonsense' and 'marvelous.' It was almost laughable. "I'd rather not," Zelda said crisply. "I have a duty to my people, and I will be there for them." The familiar argument felt worn and overused on her tongue, but at least she had gotten used to them. Standing up to her parents was nowhere near as intimidating as it had been years ago.

"You would still be serving your people by helping me prepare for the feast after the Council," the Queen trilled a laugh, laying a hand on her daughter's arm. "Being a gracious hostess is a solemn responsibility, and you unfortunately haven't put much effort into learning. And I would so appreciate it if you spent some time with your dear mother today instead!"

You don't get to scold me about responsibility, Zelda thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She hadn't done that since she was seventeen, and had no intentions of picking up the habit again. "I'm old enough to decide for myself how best to serve my people."

She moved to head towards the door once again, but Helena hurried after her, holding her dress daintily in one hand to keep herself from tripping over her flowing gown. "Surely you're not going outside dressed like that!"

Zelda sighed heavily. "I'm wearing my warmest cloak; is that not sufficient?"

"I'm sure it'll be plenty warm enough, dear," Helena agreed quickly. "Too warm, though, I wonder – wouldn't a woolen cloak be sufficient? What about that lovely embroidered one I gave you last winter?"

"My cloak is fine," Zelda said firmly.

Helena pursed her lips, studying her critically. "It's made out of hide," she protested. "Elk hide, at that! It's entirely the wrong color for your gown; the embroidered cloak would look so much better. You look like a noble from Tabantha, wearing that."

"I'm not changing my mind," Zelda sighed, turning to leave. And it's caribou, not elk. There's a big difference. The caribou hide cloak had been crafted from a caribou she herself had shot with a bow, on a hunt with Lady Tabanth and her husband, in fact, guided by a member of the Rito Tribe. As guided hunts for the nobles were such a vital part of the economy of Tabantha and Hebra both, proving that she could successfully take part in one had gained Zelda a great deal of respect from the inhabitants of the regions. She had shown both her own competence as well as her understanding of what mattered to the locals. It had been the first time her people began to see her as more than just the daughter of Pelaris and Helena.

As such, the cloak meant a great deal more to her than a garish gift from her mother.

"You're not even wearing your crown!" Helena huffed, finally beginning to show her frustration. "Darling, there are so many nobles visiting right now; if you're going out I must insist you do something to communicate your status as the Princess!"

Aha! I knew it. Zelda pulled the necklace from her pocket and fastened it around her neck. "Will this suffice?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She could clearly remember the last time her mother had talked her into wearing her crown in public – the uncertain, sometimes disdainful looks from the people, especially those whose livelihoods were suffering the most from the war. The ubiquitous disappointment and worry. When they see my crown, they see my parents. And I will not rule as they did – they must learn to trust me on that.

Helena gave her a flat look and shook her head. "Oh – oh, very well. As long as you do wear your crown at the King's Council today. You can't ignore your birthright among the other leaders of the kingdom; they must learn that you have authority!"

And they'll learn my authority on my terms, not yours. "I'll consider it, Mother," Zelda sighed, continuing towards the grand front doors to the castle and catching a sympathetic wince from Inpa.

Her breath fogged in the crisp morning air and she quickly fastened her cloak closed at her chest, thankful for the warmth of the thick fur. No matter how bitter the wind or the air itself, it couldn't bite through her faithful cloak.

But I should have thought of wearing a hood of sorts, she lamented, hunching her shoulders to huddle her pinkening cheeks against the hide as she led the way down the hill the castle perched upon to Castle Town proper.

It was saddening to notice the difference in the residents here after these six months of the war. Castle Town, as Hyrule's largest city, was in times of peace a thriving market town with products from across the entire kingdom. Now, however, market stalls were distinctly emptier than usual, and some had sat abandoned since the start of the war. It was difficult, nearly impossible, for anyone to obtain beef. The prices of wool and leather had skyrocketed and supply had dwindled to nearly nothing, thanks to the trade sanctions placed on the Zonai tribes who produced them. And although there had been no sanctions on the Sheikah, the vegetables they grew had gotten ridiculously expensive so that the scientists there could continue developing their so-called guardians. Which included out-bidding other buyers on Goron-mined ore, making it harder to craft metal tools and weapons, which caused difficulties for Zora and Gerudo smiths.

As a result, Zelda rarely saw Rito in Castle Town anymore, selling their meticulously woven rugs and clothing out of Zonai wool. Very few people still sold meat, and when they did it was generally pork or chicken – meat from animals that Hylians could easily raise and slaughter on their farms for a little extra money. There was still fish from Akkala and the Zora, but it was suddenly in high demand as the only steady source of meat. But the inhabitants of Akkala and the Zora people did not increase their fishing to compensate for the higher demand, wary of depleting their waters, and so fish was now much more expensive, too.

Now there were more people than ever going hungry throughout Hyrule, and Castle Town was no exception. Zelda rarely saw smiles on the faces of the common folk anymore; instead, people were worried and frightened. Children still laughed and played in the streets, but with less vigor, less energy, and on this frosty morning she only saw two of them. Some buildings had noticeably fallen into disrepair, too expensive to fix. Zelda took careful note of the state of dress of the smattering of people she passed on the road – was winter clothing yet another victim of the situation? – and was relieved to find that most people were wearing woolen cloaks and thicker clothing that they'd had before the war. Good. Mending them could be expensive, but hopefully they'll last longer than this war goes on.

As she entered the main square on her way to Henya's pastry shop, she instantly noticed the exception to her observations heading her way, likely on his way to the castle – although he was noticeable enough, through sheer stature, that she doubted he wouldn't have caught her attention even if he was dressed for the cold. The King of the Gerudo was the very picture of power, standing seven and a half feet tall and with a musculature to rival a Goron's. He looked no different than he had at her previous encounters with him, wearing a dark blue robe that left his left shoulder and part of his chest bare, bedecked in ornate golden rings and armbands depicting the symbol of the Gerudo, as well as a crown in the shape of a sun upon his brow.

"Good King," she greeted with a polite curtsy as he neared. "A pleasure to see you, but… aren't you cold?" Inwardly she cringed – it was one thing to be familiar with the servants at the castle, quite another with the leader of another nation. Even though Khanot was more approachable than the other leaders, she knew her tutors would be scowling in disappointment if they'd seen her greeting. The back of her right hand tingled slightly, and she scratched it absently.

Khanot of the Gerudo dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Good morning to you, Princess Zelda," he said with a kind smile. "I appreciate your concern. It is not a comfortable temperature for me, but I find the experience to my liking."

Zelda blinked, taken aback. "Why is that?" she asked curiously. She felt her cheeks growing uncomfortably warm as she realized how rude that would have sounded. "I – I mean, certainly you have your reasons; I don't mean to be impolite."

Khanot waved her concerns aside with a massive hand. "I do not take offense," he assured her with a chuckle. "I am not as fragile as others you are accustomed to dealing with."

Zelda grinned, instantly thinking of her mother. Fragile, indeed.

"Besides, I understand that my response is confusing," Khanot went on. "I am, after all, the one male Gerudo born in a century, the rare true king of the wastes, foretold to lead my people into a golden era of prosperity and power. I am quite capable of denying the cold, if I so desired. However, the discomfort reminds me that I am mortal, and that my power does indeed have its limits. It would do my people no good for me to get caught up in my own legend and forget that."

The good of his people. This was why Zelda found it so easy to trust the otherwise fearsome ruler. He was shrewd and canny, but always focused on the right thing. The kind of ruler I will be, one day. "That's… quite admirable for the leader of a nation," she said honestly, and stopped herself before she could add, I wish my father would be reminded of his own mortality every now and then. "I appreciate that you shared this sentiment."

Khanot smiled again, his expression thoughtful. "I am glad," he said simply. "We have many reasons to look forward to your reign. I will see you at the King's Council."

"Of course," Zelda said, touched by the compliment, and the Gerudo King moved on, back the way she had just come. Zelda noticed then an intriguing sword at his side, made of some sort of white metal. Ceremonial, perhaps? It doesn't look particularly practical.

She crossed the market square to Henya's pastry shop and walked inside to purchase a marzipan cake. Her hand had stopped itching, for which she was thankful. She expected it would start up again at the council – it seemed to be a stress response. Though the golden image of the Triforce that showed up along with the itching didn't make quite as much sense for a stress response. She assumed it had something to do with the blood of the Goddesses flowing through her veins, dormant in her father but reportedly present in her grandmother, and other women of the royal line.

"You're frowning, Your Grace," Inpa noted drily, standing alert at Zelda's side as she sat down on a bench just outside the bakery to eat her breakfast. "Is it not to your liking?"

"No, it's delicious as always," Zelda said quickly. "Henya's are the best – well, never mind, that's not what you meant. I was thinking about this again." She raised her hand towards Inpa, the mark of the Triforce now absent. "I've managed to cast the spells of disguise you taught me, but none of the other shadow magic. And the mark – it's always present when I do magic, and often when I'm speaking with Council members. What's the connection?" She shook her head. "We've been over it before, and it just… there's always something that doesn't sit right."

"I still think it's anxiety," Inpa dismissed with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "Ideally you won't ever have to use magic unless you're in a dire situation, in which you would also be feeling nervous or afraid. And you're often nervous speaking with the Council members. It's a self-defense reaction."

"You've said that before, but my hand was tingling when I spoke with Khanot just now, and I'm not as anxious around him," Zelda pointed out.

Inpa snorted, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Really? Eight-foot-tall Gerudo man built like a Goron, who's also a powerful and popular political leader, and you weren't even a tiny bit anxious?"

Zelda's cheeks heated up. "Well… you're right, I was a bit nervous." There's always the risk of things coming out wrong when I don't plan out what to say ahead of time, and I look up to Khanot – I don't want to disappoint him. "He's just more… grounded than the other leaders. I'm not as worried about what I say coming out wrong. But I suppose there is always that fear." She poked the last of the cake into her mouth and stood up to leave. "So perhaps it is tied to anxiety after all. But I can't shake the feeling that there's something more to it."

"You'll figure it out," Inpa chuckled. "Ready to head back?"

Zelda checked herself over for crumbs, clasped her cloak closed again, and led the way back towards the castle, Inpa her shadow and the guards forming a loose ring around them both. Her heart felt heavy as she took note once more of just how few people were out and about – driven to stay in their homes by the cold, by lack of work, by the high prices, or all three. And Father doesn't do a useful thing about it.

By contrast, there was a small crowd at the front gates of the castle by the time she arrived. Zelda's heart gave a stunned jump as she caught sight of the unmistakable thick, blue-dyed gambeson of a Zonai. There were a red and a green-clad Zonai, too, she noticed. One from each tribe!

She frowned as she noticed the cause of the hold-up – one of her father's secretaries, standing between the gate guards with his hands clasped calmly behind his back, barring the Zonai from entry. "Have you come to declare your surrender and submit to reparations?" he asked snobbishly.

The red-clad Zonai growled, and the blue one hushed him, his voice desperate when he spoke. "No, but we've come t'request –"

"Then leave," the secretary demanded.

"How dare y'speak t'th'emissaries f'th'Zonai like this! We're not leaving until y'let us see th'King!" the green-clad Zonai exclaimed, fire in his voice. At once the guards leveled spears at the three men.

"Orders are orders," the secretary maintained. "You're not getting through, unless you want to be sent home in pieces!"

The red-clad Zonai lunged forward, quickly held back by his companions. "I'd like t'see y'try, y'hanged flameless poespeakers!" he roared, even as the blue-clad Zonai shushed him urgently before turning back to the guards.

"Please," he said, his voice tight. "If y'd just listen t'us –"

"No, and that's final," the secretary snipped. "Leave now, or I'll have all three of you strung up for threatening a Hylian official. Consider what burial you'd get after that."

The red-clad Zonai was seething, but the other two gripped his arms and turned around. Beneath their facial paint, Zelda could see their expressions – one of rage, one of despair, the other of swiftly-fading determination. Her heart clenched tightly. So my father isn't even willing to try to negotiate with the Zonai.

"Y'shame us by pleading with 'em like that," the green-clad man said to the blue.

"I'm trying t'be diplomatic," he responded, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Maybe if y'hadn't lost your temper, Durnwin –"

"S'it's my fault now?" the red-clad Zonai interrupted, yanking his arms from his companion's grasp.

"Pardon me," Zelda called out, taking a half step forward. The three Zonai men froze, looking at her with matching expressions of shock. Then the blue-clad man elbowed the other two and sank into a deep bow. The green-clad man followed suit, albeit stiffly, but the third man, Durnwin, refused, merely glowering at her dourly.

"Princess Zelda," the blue-clad Zonai said, the strain in his voice betraying his anxiety. "What, er… what do y'need?"

"I don't know," Zelda muttered quietly to herself. No turning back now, though. "What are your names, and why have you come to the castle?"

"I'm Nerwalth," the blue-clad man introduced himself with a hand over his heart. "This s'Fartholf and Durnwin. We represent th'Zonai tribes f'th'Owl, Dragon, and Boar, respectively. We – or, t'least, I – have been seeking an audience with th'King f'Hyrule nearly six months now."

Zelda's heart clenched. Six months? My father has refused to hear you since the beginning of the war? "What would you ask of the King?"

The men exchanged uncertain glances. Nerwalth sighed heavily. "We would share our perspective f'what happened t'start the war," he said grimly. "We would ask th'King t'come out t'th'lands f'th'Owl Tribe and see th'desecration with his own eyes."

Zelda frowned. "Desecration?"

She felt a rough hand on her shoulder – Inpa.

"You can't override the orders of the King and let them into the castle," the Sheikah woman murmured. "But if you want to continue this conversation, I'd advise taking it somewhere else. The Temple of Hylia should be a decently private place."

Zelda nodded, and the Zonai instantly tensed.

"Whatever she says about us, it's not true!" Fartholf exclaimed, a hand flying to the sword at his belt almost subconsciously, while Durnwin muttered something that sounded profane under his breath.

Zelda took her breath. Hylia, help me find the words. "I want to hear what you have to say," she said. "But it's quite cold out – would you join me in the Temple of Hylia to continue our discussion?"

She wasn't a Zonai sympathizer, she told herself firmly. She was just as aware as everyone else that the Sheikah monks had foretold a great Calamity, an ancient evil, rising up from the Zonai people. The fact that an entire Zonai tribe worshipped the boar, an ancient symbol of evil power, couldn't be overlooked. But she couldn't deny the unfairness of their treatment – not all Zonai were members of the Boar tribe, after all. And her father had always looked down upon the Zonai, to the extent that a decade before the war he had granted her tutors from each of the cultures of Hyrule, to teach her their customs – except the Zonai. Knowledge of their protocols and culture would certainly be handy nowadays, she thought wryly.

The Zonai glanced at each other then followed her into the Temple, which stood at the base of the hill leading up to the castle. Inpa had been right; there was no one else inside except for a very confused-looking monk who watched them with a puzzled frown for a moment before going back to the scroll he was reading.

"Right," Zelda said, turning to face the three men. "Please, tell me – what happened?"

Nerwalth drew in a heavy breath. "Someone attacked a Sheikah factory on th'border between our lands – between th'Owl Tribe and th'Sheikah," he began, his voice already trembling with anger. "Th'Sheikah said it was us. And witnesses said, whoever it was, they were dressed in red Zonai armor, which is worn by th'Boar Tribe, not us Owls. And they said he was wearing warpaint, except y'can't wear warpaint without performing th'Skeldrite, and no one performed a Skeldrite there that day. S'we were convinced they'd planned th'whole thing themselves. They blamed th'attack on the factory on us, used it as an excuse t'move a small force f'warriors into th'region – into our land. Peacekeepers, they called 'em." The Zonai all but spat the word.

Lord Yagamura's voice slithered through Zelda's memory. "There has been an entirely unprovoked attack from the Zonai on one of our factories, and we are determined to exercise our right to protect our citizens!"

"Folks began t'disappear," Nerwalth growled bitterly. "S'we fought back. Tried t'drive 'em out. Too late – they and their guardians slaughtered everyone they laid eyes on, drove th'rest f'us into th'hills."

"The Zonai rioted, and we were forced to respond with violence."

"We sent word t'th'other tribes," Nerwalth went on. "Started marching t'retake our lands. Th'warriors across th'land f'th'Owl Tribe responded fast, sabotaging what we could, buying time for th'army to reach th'front."

"In response to the large and growing number of Zonai terrorist attacks on our civilians, we officially condemn the Zonai and petition the King of Hyrule to arrest these madmen, sentence them for their crimes against us, and command them to disband their forces, lest the situation escalate." Zelda's head was beginning to pound.

"The King refused t'meet with us and hear our side," Nerwalth said solemnly, rubbing his temple anxiously. "We received outrageous demands for th'cessation f'hostilities from th'Sheikah, sealed by th'King's own ring." Zelda had watched it happen. "We refused those terms, started trying t'get civilians out f'Owl's lands, expecting all-out war. Too late, again – th'Sheikah armies attacked across our entire border, destroying everything in their path with those… machines."

"They refuse to answer our pleas for a diplomatic solution! We humbly request permission to end their warmongering by force, and call upon the rest of Hyrule to stand in solidarity with us by ceasing trade with them until they are willing to discuss peace. Undoubtedly this is a sign of the great Calamity which has been foretold, and we must be united against it."

"By th'time our armies were ready, th'Sheikah had already conquered most f'Owl's lands," Durnwin growled. "We've retaken some by now, but… th'damage…" He shook his head, features twisted into a bitter scowl.

"Damage?" Zelda frowned. "I remember they mentioned something about a mineral found in the soil of your cities – that's what they wanted."

"S'all nonsense," Fartholf shook his head. "They only think it's a mineral. Really it's th'spirit flame f'our ancestors, burning in our Grafensteda – our burial crypts. They want t'figure out how t'create it themselves, think it'll make their guardians stronger."

Zelda's frown deepened. A spirit flame… it doesn't sound real. Rather, the mineral explanation makes more sense. But I know nothing of Zonai culture – clearly it's significant to them. She swallowed thickly, choosing her words carefully. "And… you mentioned damage…"

"Villages burned. Shrines torn down. Countless left unburied, the greatest dishonor. And the burial crypts of our dead," Nerwalth whispered, an anguished expression on his face. "They've been… defiled. I – I can't describe it; I'm… I'm sorry."

Zelda shook her head slowly. "That's… fine." She chewed her lip thoughtfully. It goes entirely against what the Sheikah told us. We have a great many reasons to trust the Sheikah, but the Zonai have never, to my knowledge, been a deceitful people. Of course, I don't know much about the Zonai, thanks to Father's meddling, but if these men are lying to me, they're doing an astounding job of it. So who's telling the truth? How much of the truth is either side willing to share with the Royal Family?

Because if this is true, Father has made a horrible mistake. And if not, then the Sheikah are justified, but…

There was no way to tell, really. But Zelda was confident by now that her father should have at least been meeting with the Zonai from the beginning. "I don't know what I can do," she said slowly, and the Zonai looked at her in dismay. She added quickly, "I'll pass along your request for us to send someone out to the front. I'll volunteer to go myself, if necessary. Where might I find you after the meeting, to report my success or failure?"

The three men exchanged hopeful looks. "We're not welcome anywhere here," Durnwin muttered.

"You can stay at the Temple," Inpa said, ignoring the dirty looks thrown her way. "All are granted asylum at the Temple of Hylia."

Nerwalth nodded eagerly. "We'll be here, waiting," he promised, glancing at his companions to confirm.

Zelda rose to her feet. "I'd better get going, then," she said. A wave of anxiety settled over her shoulders – this was not what she had planned to discuss at the meeting. And as I understand it, I'm the only one remotely on their side. Hylia preserve me!

Her hand hadn't itched during the entire discussion with the Zonai leaders. A distant part of her mind acknowledged the fact, then pushed it away, overcrowded by more immediate, stressful concerns.

"What's your plan?" Inpa asked quietly as Zelda left the Temple behind, walking quickly towards the castle – she was now running the risk of being late.

"I don't know," Zelda answered, fighting to stay calm. "I've always thought my father was making a mistake when he only listened to the Sheikah's side of the hostilities – he put too much stock into past alliances, into agendas that more clearly matched his own."

"You're talking about the whole guardian thing," Inpa guessed.

Zelda nodded. "After their initial invention, Lord Yagamura presented them as a new way for the Sheikah to fulfill their oaths to protect the Royal Family – to protect Hyrule – should evil rise again, as it has in ages past. The prophecies of their monks are quiet clear – there is a great darkness in our future. And certainly, if successful, the Sheikah guardians would save many lives. It was also evident from the research he presented that something about the Zonai – whether it's a 'spirit flame,' or a mineral in the soil on their land – increases the strength of a guardian's powers. The refusal of the Zonai to permit study and mineral extraction on their land was, quite clearly, an obstacle to goals that benefited my father – and all of Hyrule. But he should have heard the Zonai's protests."

Inpa shrugged. "And it's not like Yagamura is a paragon of good will," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You've heard my complaints about him from back when I lived in Kakariko. He would've let all us commoners starve while he and the intellectuals got fat off of their fancy 'hydroponic' winter gardens."

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "They're your people – I'd have thought you would be less believing of the Zonai side of things."

"I'm not saying I believe them," Inpa promised. "Nor do I think the Sheikah's actions in the war are nearly as awful as they made it sound. But I don't trust Yagamura."

They entered the castle and Zelda fell silent, wary of who might be listening. Her heart spiked upon realizing she hadn't fully answered Inpa's question – What is my plan?

She swallowed quickly, making her way through the throne room, towards the council chamber. Inside, seated around the circular room, most other leaders were already present. Khanot wasn't there – Odd; he left for the council before I did – and of course the three chairs for Zonai representatives were empty as always these days. Zelda sat at her father's side, ignoring the welcoming smile he sent her way, and Inpa took her place behind her chair.

Khanot walked in moments later, intimidating and confident as ever. The room went silent as he took his seat, a testament to his commanding presence. Zelda could almost hear the thought going through every mind at that moment – Now that's a King.

And it was regrettably true, she reflected, even as her father cleared his throat, stood, and began the meeting. Where Pelaris was graying, short, and rather rotund, Khanot was in his late thirties – still basically in his prime, and he had the stature to match. And where Pelaris spoke quietly with forced cheeriness, Khanot was stern, and his voice brokered no other option but to be listened to. Khanot was decisive; he shaped the world around him. Pelaris was easily swayed by emotion and let the world shape him.

"Welcome," Pelaris said with a genial smile, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. "Let's get right into it, shall we?" He cleared his throat again. "All set to bring in harvests from Central Hyrule from this year's growing season. That should conclude in… hmmm… about a month or so, and we'll work on distributing as crops come in."

"At what cost?" Lady Yulia Tabanth said, painted lips pursed downwards.

"That all depends on the type of produce," Pelaris deflected. "Higher than usual, unfortunately, but that can't be helped, circumstances being what they are. Er… Gor Dakorik, how fare the Gorons?"

The rock-man hulking in the shadows near the door grunted. "Headin' into a food shortage, actually," he rumbled. "The rock the Sheikah need for their tech happens to be the most easily digestible for us. Yeah, technically we can eat any rock, but it's not as good for us. So we're havin' to dig deeper and wander further to find food." He shrugged, his black gaze wandering to where Lord Yagamura sat. "Just sayin,' if you want to continue your projects, we're gonna need some pretty good incentives."

Pelaris gave a slight uncomfortable cough. "Well, er… then… noted," he said at last. "We shall… discuss that. Lady Tabanth?"

She shook her head. "The market for lumber is quite low at the moment," she reported curtly. "I expect we'll see a slight increase in demand as we prepare for the winter and people replenish their firewood stores. But our only regular customers have been the Gerudo. We've received some commissions for various tools, carts, wagons, and so on, but are unable to complete them as we've been consistently… outbid… on Goron metals. We cannot compete with the prices offered by the Sheikah, Zora, and Gerudo." She, too, leveled a glare at Yagamura.

"We've also experienced far fewer requests for guided hunts this year," Chief Elder Tengahin of the Rito added, blinking his hawklike amber eyes slowly. "The wealthy in the kingdom are… uncertain. Afraid. Less keen on spending money on what is now seen as a frivolity."

"I have noticed this as well," the Zora King Phaidon nodded, shifting uncomfortably on a chair too small for his iridescent bulk. "What commissions we've received have been for weapons and guardian parts, not jewelry. Lord Khanot, your people are also renowned as exquisite artisans – have you also seen this?"

"This war has impacted us all, from peasant to lord," Khanot answered calmly. Zelda's hand prickled. "However, our jewelry in particular holds magical properties that help people survive in extreme weather, so we have retained a portion of our artisan market, largely thanks to Lord Akkalus and his military training programs in the far north. The greatest trial of my people at the moment is our inability to trade with the Zonai, our closest neighbors. Life in the desert is harsh, and we have come to depend to some degree on Zonai agriculture and herding."

"Indeed," Tengahin sighed, holding a black-and-white striped wingtip wearily over his face. "Many of my people have no work without weaving and dyeing the wool from Zonai sheep. There's always a need for messengers, fortunately, but… we're not in a great place."

Zelda could see her father twisting his fingers. This isn't going his way. But it could work in my favor – especially now that Khanot and Tengahin have both mentioned some of the benefits that came from trade with the Zonai.

"Lord Akkalus," Pelaris said at last, turning to the ashen-haired Hylain who had yet to speak. "What do you have to report?"

Marcus Akkalus shook his head with no little exasperation. "You'll ask again, and I'll continue to refuse," he growled, glancing at Phaidon for a nod of support. "We won't overfish our waters to sate the demand. Nor will we overwork our people, who must prepare for the oncoming winter – which is especially harsh in Akkala, in the north by the seashore as it is. Once the winter storms begin to move in, it will be impossible for us to risk ships in the open water. And it's true that we still have our lakes and rivers, but the more fish you demand this year, the fewer there will be the next year, and if the meat shortage continues, where will that leave us? I'll keep the supply of fish where it is – take it or leave it."

If the shortage continues – if the war continues, you mean, Zelda noted.

Pelaris was practically squirming in discomfort. "That's… fair," he said at last. "Lord Yagamura, if it's not plain to you by now, we're all quite fatigued by this war and its effects – how close are you to achieving your goals in Zonai territory?"

The Sheikah man's thin lips tightened almost imperceptibly. "You forget that we are fighting the most barbaric people in the land, whose entire culture revolves around violence," he scowled. "A people who may very well raze Hyrule to the ground when the foretold Calamity appears! Our human losses are low, fortunately, but the expenses of maintaining our guardians increase by the day. We've… lost quite a bit of ground, and although it's proven simple to retake territory, it's… difficult to successfully hold it."

"Perhaps you should put more men on the field," Akkalus said, disdain tinting his voice. "Perhaps they would prove more successful at holding land than machines."

"No," Yagamura waved him off. "The guardians are our best hope against the Zonai, as they will be against Calamity when it arises. We're working on a new design, something quite powerful, that should turn the tides of this war. We need your continued support for a while longer, and then I promise you, we will put an end to this violence."

Khanot raised an eyebrow, but it was Lady Tabanth who spoke. "Near the beginning of this war, you were making astounding progress," she snipped. "Nearly a third of Zonai territory, all under your control in a matter of weeks! Yet as I understand it now, you've lost nearly half of that! What went wrong?"

Yagamura glared at her. "Nothing went wrong," he said through gritted teeth. "You simply do not understand the savagery of these – these beasts! They do not fight like a proper military. I promise you, continue lending us what support you can, and our new design for the guardians will destroy them in a matter of weeks! And then we can turn our full attention to developing our defenses for the kingdom instead of staving off savagery."

Zelda's hand gave a particularly fierce twinge and she jerked in surprise, glancing down at it and then around the room, hoping no one noticed. She swallowed thickly. "Father, perhaps now would be a good time to once again push for peace with the Zonai," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. I can do this. "As I understand it, the contested territory is split down the middle at the moment. Perhaps if we could convince the Zonai to accept a compromise…?"

"We've tried that before; they don't listen to calls for peace!" Yagamura protested.

"Might I suggest a genuine show of interest from the leaders of the kingdom?" Khanot cut in, giving the King a significant look. "Messages have been delivered, it is true, but my experience with the Zonai shows that they greatly value direct communication. If a representative from the Royal Family were to physically travel to Zonai lands to discuss peace, I can assure that they would be more willing to listen."

Zelda's heart lifted – it was as if Khanot had read her mind; this was perfect! And he had said it much more eloquently than she believed she could.

Pelaris scoffed. "And risk a knife in the back from a nation of sabateurs, terrorists, and ambushers?" he protested, his voice cracking. "Absolutely not – the Zonai detest the Royal Family! You would have me walk into a trap, Gerudo."

They detest you, Father, Zelda thought bitterly. Because you've been shutting them out at every turn.

Khanot raised his hands placatingly, leaning back in his chair. "I am only sharing my experience," he said. "Regardless of the risks – or perhaps even because of them – actions mean more to them than words from a distance."

"I would be willing to go," Zelda said to her father, heart hammering as she hoped and prayed that he would seriously consider the idea. Her heart lifted at the sight of Lady Tabanth and Tengahin nodding their approval. She swallowed. "This war must come to an end. All of Hyrule is suffering for it. This is an angle we haven't tried yet – we should at least try, shouldn't we?"

Pelaris furrowed his brow deeply, looking at her with worry. "I will not send my heir alone into an active warzone," he said at last, reaching as if to take her hand but lowering it at the last second.

"I would be happy to accompany her," Khanot spoke up again. "Along with a platoon of my finest guards, and anyone you would wish to send."

The look Pelaris sent to the Gerudo King was, Zelda wasn't surprised to see, laced with frustration. As usual, Khanot displays his competence, while my father blunders around.

"This is a fine idea," Lord Akkalus joined in. "Surely the Zonai would see sense if the very rulers of Hyrule and a longstanding ally were willing to travel to meet them! At the very least, we ought to get further in reasoning with them than we have before."

"The Zonai don't listen to reason – have you forgotten my people's desperate attempts to make peace with them before it got so out of hand?" Yagamura exclaimed. "It cannot work! You send your daughter to her grave!"

"If so, it would be the grave of the King of the Gerudo as well, and I would like to see them try," Khanot said resolutely, folding his arms across his chest.

Pelaris nodded, and Zelda felt her heart leap in triumph. "Lord Yagamura, they did see you as aggressors from the start," he mused in a rare moment of thoughtfulness. "But I have attempted to maintain neutrality – I have not joined my forces to yours. The Zonai have not been fighting Hylains all this time, or Gerudo, so they may yet be willing to listen to this." He turned his anxious gaze on Zelda. "Very well, my daughter – you and Khanot can depart when you are ready, the sooner the better."

Zelda allowed herself a small smile. "Thank you, Father," she said with a bow of her head. Thank Hylia!

"Now," Pelaris said heavily, "with that all settled, I believe we should wait to discuss these other issues until after we see what the outcome of this journey is. It may yet be that we will be able to resume trade as normal before the year is out, and return prosperity to the kingdom. You are welcome to stay here until we see what happens when Princess Zelda and Lord Khanot return, so that we may discuss the next steps to peace; regardless, Queen Helena has organized a delightful feast for us all in the dining hall…"

Not that, Zelda thought with a frown, her spirits sinking at the mention of her mother. Not when she was so disappointed that I didn't want to help with that at all… time to make my escape.

She glanced over her shoulder at Inpa and gave a small nod. As the other leaders of Hyrule stood to head for the dining hall, Inpa slipped her charge through an innocuous passageway behind the King's throne with only the barest whisper of shadow magic.

Besides, Zelda thought, her grin returning. I have some packing to do.