Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. I don't own the good ship Zelda/Revali, but I daresay I have contributed a few sails to this collaborative effort.
My backstory/headcanon is that Princess Zelda's mother is royal by birth, and therefore Queen Regnant, so she is also a Zelda, while Daphnes Bosphoramus only is a royal by marriage. I haven't played Age of Calamity yet, so I don't know if this is contracted in the game.
Enjoy! Read, recommend, and review!
Revali never forgot the first time he saw the Princess.
The new Rito Postmaster had selected a retinue of postal workers to accompany him to Castle Town for Twilight Day. And Revali, Junior Junior Postal Assistant at age seven, was part of this retinue.
Twilight Day was the festival celebrated at the autumn equinox. It was the day when light and shadow shared equal measure of time. Traditionally, Hylians strove to forgive debts and reconcile with estranged friends. It was a day for letting go of regret before the shadows of winter climbed over the doorway.
At the same time, Twilight Day was also a celebration! Roll the dice, draw a card, learn your fortune. Throw an apple peel to find out the initial of your secret admirer. Munch a black-and-white treat, it's Twilight Day!
It was also young Revali's first visit to Castle Town.
Castle Town was bustling with life. It was crowded, noisy, and smelly like Rito Village never was, and Revali's main concern was keeping his hat clean.
Yes, his hat: the prim upright red hat that denoted a Junior Junior Postal Assistant. It was brand new, and had brought with it a sense of purpose. Orphans and wards didn't get hats like this: Revali had won this hat by diligence and pluck. He'd proven himself to the Postmaster, and therefore Revali was good enough for even a royal audience. If anyone in this city befouled his good new hat, Revali would see to it that there was heck to pay.
(Captain Solado had forbidden Revali to swear. Captain Solado was his guardian.)
It is worth mentioning that Revali was, at this point, one-third-grown at best. He was short, scrawny, and his feathers were coming in patchy and crooked. Like most Rito fledglings, he looked adorable to Rito eyes and frightful to everyone else.
Two hours before sunset, the royal family crossed the drawbridge from the Castle to the Town. They would sit in state on a little platform, and meet the retinues from across Hyrule one at a time. The royals were Queen Zelda Saphirabel Hyrule, a small woman with auburn hair, and she was seated. Her husband, Prince Daphnes Bosphoramus Hyrule, and the little Princess, Zelda Lapislazuli, stood at either side of her.
"The princess is about your age," Captain Solado had told Revali before he left Rito Village. "Remember to be very polite, and ask what she's interested in."
Captain Solado's words had been well-meant, but Revali had completely forgotten them once Castle Town came into sight.
Revali had never been to Castle Town before, but he knew it was the site of the biggest and most important Post Office in Hyrule. He could not have imagined how dense and crowded it was: so many people in such a small space! Didn't they all yearn for fresh, open air? For the sky?
But so many of Castle Town's folks were earthbound—Goron, Zora, and all the human races—and they didn't know what they were missing.
Everywhere in the city, at every level, there was something fascinating to see, whether it was Rito apartments ingeniously rigged on the rooftops, or Zora musicians gathering within canals, or shops—so many shops! Even Revali would never get bored here.
While he waited in line to meet the Royal Family, Revali's main preoccupation was how he would spend his allowance. He had decided he'd buy something sweet: but what? A half-moon cookie, or a crepe with chestnut cream? Most expensive were the lavender meringues, sprinkled with candied swift-violets… so dear, but they looked so good…
He was still puzzling it over when the herald announced, "The Postmaster General of Rito Village and his Retinue," and suddenly Revali found himself face-to-face with the Princess, Zelda Lapislazuli herself.
He stared at her.
She stared at him.
'She has green eyes,' Revali thought. 'I've never seen a human with green eyes before. Like mine!' He gave a stiff little bow. "How'dye do," he said, as politely as he could muster.
The Princess smiled. "How do you do," she replied, and curtsied. Really curtsied, picking up her skirts and everything. "Is this your first time in Castle Town?"
"Yes! It's really busy and crowded."
"I hope you are enjoying your stay," she said. Revali didn't know so much politeness could fit into one small person. She looked at her feet, and then back at him. Revali straightened his shoulders. Of a sudden, she burst out, "I've never been to Rito Village, but I want to go."
"Oh! You should visit us, for sure!"
"I've heard that the music is wonderful, and that there's no better place for stargazing."
"You can see the Aurora, too, in wintertime. It's the most beautiful thing." The Princess sighed with envy, and Revali decided that the little lady had good taste.
"Are you an astronomer?" Zelda asked suddenly.
"No…"
"That's okay, I just think the stars and planets are really interesting. Are you a musician?"
"I sing a little… and I'm learning guitar and maracas, too. But I'm better at archery."
"Me, too! I mean, I'm learning. It's really interesting."
'Really interesting' seemed to be the Princess' favorite descriptor. "What kind of bow do you use?" he asked.
"It's made of birch and it's that big—"she demonstrated with her hands—"and very light. I can hit up to three meters away."
"That's good! My bow is pine, and I made it myself, and I can hit up to twelve meters." Revali's thin chest puffed out with pride.
"That's really good! You must train hard. Hey, can we be friends?"
At that moment, the Postmaster (a long-faced, hawkish Rito with a deadpan expression) put his wing on Revali's shoulder. "It's time for us to go," he said.
"Excuse me, but we'll just need a minute to be friends," Zelda said to the Postmaster. To Revali, she asked, "Can I write you a letter?"
"Of course! Let's be pen pals. I work at the Post Office," he said, tapping his hat.
"Ohhhh, that's really interesting," said the Princess. "Please write to me at the Castle, care of Kasumi—that's my mother's secretary—Princess Zelda, care of Kasumi. Can you remember that?"
"Princess Zelda, care of Kasumi. I'll remember, your highness." he said.
"Call me Zelda. I await your letter." She smiled at him. Then she turned to the Postmaster and curtsied deeply. "You have the Princess' gratitude. Thank you."
"Well, I'll be," said the Postmaster, and it must be admitted that he blushed some.
The Postmaster's retinue bustled away from the royal family, and Revali thought to himself that he would serve that Princess whatever she bade, for the rest of his life.
When Revali met Zelda again in the time of Calamity, he did not remind her of that meeting on Twilight Day, nor of the dozen letters that they had written one another before the Queen's sudden passing. You see, Revali wanted everyone to see him as a master of the arts of war and wind-waking. He had no wish to revisit his awkward fledgling days. Back then he'd been such a dolt, and his biggest wish had been to be a postman, for crying out loud.
He did not, therefore, know that Zelda had remembered him.
Revali knew himself to be a greedy bastard.
Greedy was one of the whispers that followed him, even among his own people. Arrogant was another—and for the Rito, a naturally proud people, that was saying a lot. Revali took on these insults like water off a duck's back. Let them slide off. What matter what others thought of him? If he had Captain Solado's respect, and the respect of the Princess, and his own—the rest could go hang.
Selfish was the one accusation which stung.
He would not say he was selfish. All that he wanted was his due. He knew for himself, he was the greatest archer among the Rito (probably in all of Hyrule), and that merited a little recognition, right?
Of course right.
His flight skills and wind-magic were getting better all the time. At this rate, he was bound to be named in the same company as Plucktri and Ahberi, wind-wakers of Rito legend—that wasn't arrogance, that was a fact. Was it wrong to want recognition for one's achievement? Of course not. Just as long as heralds and whatnot would spell out his accomplishments and titles… he'd take a few ribbons and medals… A bouquet every now and again wouldn't go amiss. He didn't ask for much!
That's what he'd say.
In his heart, Revali knew that he was as greedy as greedy could be. He wanted so much. He wanted more than anyone could give—more than the world could give. He craved power. He envied that Hero boy, Link, who would slay the Calamity, marry the princess, and live forever in glory. Revali wanted to be better than him and better than anyone.
Revali, by night, prayed for Captain Solado's painful arthritis to disappear. Revali prayed that Zelda would be at peace, not torturing herself day and night over an impossible task. He yearned for Zelda's eyes on him, admiring. He wanted his parents back. But these things, he didn't ask for.
Whatever gods ruled Hyrule—the Sheikah's shadowy judges, or the sleeping Sky-Dragons of the Rito, or whoever—they were not generous.
For Zelda, though…
For Zelda, Revali would be selfless. He would serve his princess faithfully to his last breath, and ask for nothing. Just to serve her, just be in her shadow, just to help her as she needs, to be near her. He would see her rule as Queen and he would ask for nothing more.
Revali respected the Princess. He honored her as his Commander and future sovereign. He exceedingly liked to spend time with her. He liked her flashes of dry humor, and he loved the joy she showed when she made a scientific discovery.
He also had an inscrutable yearning to dance for her.
All the people of Hyrule love music, and each dances in their own way. But Rito courtship dances, ah, that's an art unto themselves. More dignified than your everyday cock-robin flashing his tail feathers, but also more vulnerable than a pavane in a ballroom, and with more meaning than reels at a harvest festival.
Revali did his best not to let this urge become conscious. But when he spoke to the princess, he found himself bobbing his head to a tune only he could hear. When he demonstrated his archery or his Gale, he was keenly aware of her eyes on her, and he wanted to add in some flourish, some turn or bow or, gods help him, a spin. He would catch himself daydreaming—the two of them alone, out in the open air—he would say "Zelda," and bow deeply, and—
Wake up, stop dreaming. He was an unattached Rito, she was a human, one of the earthbound who would not understand the least nuance of a courtship dance. If he tried, disaster would be the only possible result.
Rito courtship dances are not done in the first flush of infatuation, nor are they meant to make up after a quarrel. A courtship dance, practiced by all genders, by Rito of any standing, is nothing less than summing up one's entire being in motion, and delivering it as a gift to the recipient. Here I am; here is my color and my temperament. See here my strengths, let me quickly outline my weaknesses; see my hopes and dreams, my entire heart. It says, everything I am, everything I have to give, I give unto you. Handle with care.
By dancing, a Rito surrenders pride, confirms their love, and proposes marriage.
Of course, Revali was not free to do any of that.
He was a sworn Champion. He had already pledged his life to the service of the Princess. He would not court nor wed until the Calamity was defeated. He wasn't entirely sure he could die until their mission was complete. His honor, pride, and soul were bound up in Divine Beast Vah Medoh, and so he danced by himself on Vah Medoh's wings, renewing his pledge to protect the land and skies of Hyrule. He sang softly to accompany himself, and he liked to think his Beast appreciated it.
But Revali's heart was his to give away. And in his heart, he loved Zelda.