the Avertable Inevitability

CHAPTER 2 The start of it all

Zelda Bosphorus Hyrule the seventy second was born to the death tolls of a girl who never got the chance to live.

A self-insert fic.

Being a baby was boring. And incredibly frustrating. I quickly realised that the people around me did not speak english which was an entire irritation of its own. I had prided myself on my vocabulary and eloquence when I had bothered to try. I had been well read and had been enchanted by the english language, had enjoyed all of its different facets even if it's inane rules and my own struggles with my dyslexia had pushed me to further heights. To have all my work, my struggle, my hard won grasp of my mess of a marvellous language rendered mute. It was infuriating. It didn't matter how pretty this new language was with its lilting lyrical almost musical tone. English was my garbage langage damn it!

I wasn't quite sure where i was born or what language the people around me were speaking but i was fairly certain that it was somewhere European. As my new mother was blond and causation from what i could see with my stupid useless baby eyes. Which by the way was another thing I was frustrated about. I can't see anything! It's all blurs of colors and shapes. While I'm not unused to being blind as a bat without my glasses, I. Don't. Have. Glasses. I was blind and practically deaf, it was isolating in an uncomfortable way. I was as helpless as a baby, which I was, but it did make my lack of autonomy or understanding any better, for someone who had used to be quite observant and independent.

But back on track. I had theorised that I was born again somewhere in Europe because of what I could see of my mother's features. I had ruled out Spain, France and England on my mental map as the language the people were speaking did not sound like what I knew of French and Spanish. I had also hesitantly ruled out Italy as the language didn't sound like it was latin in origin but that might be a bit of a stretch. It was also entirely possible that i was in France, Spain, Italy or any where else and my mother was just speaking in another language or was a foreigner living in another country and the other people i saw were all family or part of the same community and that's why they all spoke the same language, but if that was true then i could be literally anywhere with no way of knowing. An insidious voice inside of me whispered that i might not even be on earth, i had read enough fanfic to be familiar with self insert stories and i had no way of knowing how much time had passed since i had died, humans could have colonised mars by this point! But that was ridiculous and having to consider the entire world would get me nowhere. So I had shoved those thoughts on the back burner and had continued with the assumption that I was somewhere in Europe.

Maybe somewhere in Scandinavia? I wasn't familiar with any of their languages and my mother WAS blond. Shit I'm not in Ukraine am I? I don't want to live in a country at war! Would they even still be at war? That would be just my luck to be born in some communist or third world country. Wait how progressive is my new homeland? Was I born in some backwater country where women have no rights!? Another startling thought occurred to me, was I even a girl this go around?! I was starting to panic again and all of the thoughts that I had shoved away earlier were threatening to overwhelm me. I wiggled desperately in the swaddle that had trapped my hands to my chest, i can't even check!

I knew I had been lucky last time, I had been born in a progressive enough country with a loving family that had been wealthy enough to take care of me and my brother. What if i wasn't so lucky this time, what if-

My new mother's warm voice interrupted my spiral of panicked thoughts. I couldn't understand what she was saying but that was ok, just her voice was enough to calm me. I have always been a mama's girl.

I knew she wasn't my first mother and I couldn't expect her to be. She could never fill that hole in my heart and I wouldn't want her to. But that doesn't mean I can't love her. She was the only thing that kept me sane those first few months. Her constant heartbeat and voice were my only comfort and for that she will have my love and devotion. She can't be my mama but that doesn't mean she can't be family. At least I hope.

She said something in that musical language of hers and lifted me up to her chest practically shoving a boob in my face. Ah feeding time. I withheld a grimace, while nowhere near as bad as being born, breastfeeding is uncomfortable. It's honestly quite awkward for me to be sucking on someone's boob. I try to ignore what I'm doing and focus on my mother's face, just pretend you're drinking out of a squishy straw. It's fine. (it was not like drinking out of a squishy straw) my new mother was beautiful. like not just in a oh my mom is so pretty way that all children have but in a, she genuinely looks like a goddess on earth sort of way. She could easily be a model, or an actress. My new mom might be a model! Food for thought. Bad phrasing. need to not focus on the whole boob food thing.

But yea she was super pretty! At least from what i can see with my stupid baby eyes. I hope I'm at least half as pretty as her. The thought makes me pause to gum at my… straw. What do I look like? Am I even a girl now? Part of me hopes I at least look like I did before it would be nice to have something of mine in this new life even if it is my old face and body.

Another part of me that sounds a little too much like my insecurity muses hopefully that i'll look completely different this time. New life, new look, no link to my previous pain. But that thought hurts a little too much to take seriously. I decided then and there that the next time someone I had assumed was my grandmother bathed me I would double check to make sure i don't have any extra parts and see if there was a mirror where i could check what i look like now… as much as one could as an infant.