A/N: You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to unveil this chapter and the new character into the fold. For those of you loyal readers, thank you so very much for staying along with this journey. This chapter is dedicated to you folks who have read/followed/favorited. Hopefully by the end of this chapter, you'll have a much better idea of where this story is going.
Five hundred candles were used in total to light the whole ballroom. The Princess preferred the room to be a little darker, and she would frequently and politely ask her servants to only light four candles on the main chandelier when she ate her supper. However today, her brother had just returned from his latest war campaign. It was a cause for celebration…
For all but one. Her father doted on his son so much that he decided to celebrate his son's return in tandem with his daughter's last day here, which was also her milestone twentieth birthday, at Death Mountain Castle. This was the largest banquet Zelda had ever seen celebrated at Castle Red Lion, yet it wasn't even wholly devoted to her; she had never seen so many unfamiliar faces wandering about, and their judgmental eyes crawled all over her body like a swarm of bugs. Many of these lords and ladies, supposedly from the capital city, were huddling around her brother and listening to his made up war stories. With the way Father had set up the ball and the way his son was hogging all the attention, she regretted letting her brother share the event with her. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to hurt something, or someone.
Hmph! she calmed herself in the midst of the crowd of barons, baronesses, priests, knights, and all their families residing in the Death Mountain range, known on the map as the Duchy of Eldin. The more she thought about her brother, the angrier she got; the more she had to restrain herself from acting out, the angrier she got subsequently.
And when the Princess got angry, she possessed a craving for violence that desperately needed satisfaction. To control her craving, she brooded in the corner of the marble banquet hall.
But nooo. She just had to promise her father. He had to essentially bribe her to behave tonight, but the reward at the end of the night would be well worth the restraint, or so he said. Even if she was not allowed to hurt any one of the landed nobility serving under father right now, she could still make quietly fun of the way they looked. There were several faces that she recognized from attending the Nohansen's yearly banquets. One in particular, a sheriff from a nearby village, had a silly satin hat that drooped over the side of his head like a giant booger on a cold and rainy day.
She snickered aloud to her own immature joke as she walked over to the food display. As she walked by a group of lords and ladies listening intently to one of Father's own high ranking knights recant tales of fighting the mighty Goron tribes with great elaboration and great exaggeration, the Princess looked around the room with a chin tilted upward. Positioned squarely in the middle of the banquet hall, the tables held foods that came from some of the best… ugh, are those fried lamb stuffed eggs again? When will that fat, lazy, good for nothing chef learn that I hate lamb! The princess growled in disgust as she looked at the typical same old fried ground goat meat with melted cheese, butter toasted bread, various fruits from all over the realm, lamb charcuterie... Din, all this food just looks plain awful. I bet the food at Hyrule Castle is so much better.
Her eyes wandered up and down the tables and found nothing particularly appetizing. "Hmph," she thought out loud by accident.
"Oh look at Princess 'I'm too good for this food'!" the derisive voice drew her heated attention to her bastard brother, the only person in the castle arrogant enough to insult the Princess to her face. His crown, sitting squarely on his frighteningly bony face, did little to convey that he was heir to the Duchy of Eldin and Castle Nohansen, mostly because the crown was never worn during any part of his otherwise daily life. His fancy green doublet had black stripes that outlined the hems of the clothing, down to his sword belt. The part of him that was the commander of the Duke of Red Lion's armed forces was the part he liked flaunting. The sword worn on his hip looked too big and too unwieldy for his thin frame, especially in a setting such as this. Who was Link going to fight at this banquet? Boys are stupid. Good thing the deities who created Hyrule were women, otherwise man made land, man made laws, and man made life would plunge Hyrule into eternal chaos.
"Prince Link." The name that spilled from her mouth caused her brother to frown, which then delighted the princess. She was the only one in the room, save her father, who had the audacity to call her brother by his title, a name he despised so much that he responded with...
"Piss off," Link returned his attention to the food display, "I was under the impression from father that you were going to be civil."
"I am quite civil," responded the Princess sarcastically, "Afterall, what is so uncivil about addressing you by your full title? You know Father's going to make a speech at this ball, and he's going to address you as Prince…" she waited for his face to scrunch even further before she stabbed the finishing line into his pride, "Link."
Her bastard brother scoffed, "You're better suited for the job of court jester than princess."
"Ha! Says the Commander of Red Lions who can't even beat a girl in a swordfight."
"You'd be just as mortal as the rest of us without that witch hovering by your side," Prince Link fired back aggressively.
"Impa's not here," the Princess pounded her chest with a monstrous thud to dare her brother into doing something stupid, "Draw your sword and prove my mortality right here. I don't need to carry a sword around me to beat you anytime I want." The Princess knew Prince Link never backed down from a challenge, and her lips crept upwards with anticipation when her brother's bone like fingers hovered over his oversized hilt. So accustomed to her brother's volatile nature was she that she was visibly taken aback when Link took a deep breath instead and relaxed his hand. "What are you waiting for?" she egged him, who once again tightened his grip his hilt and began breathing heavily.
Despite the combined chatter from the scores of guests, the space between the Princess and her brother was dead quiet. "No," he finally resigned with dignity, "Father told me I will be ruling everyone standing in this room someday. If I am to rule, then I must behave like a noble is what he told me."
Her brother was trying really hard maintain stoicism, but his face frowned even further at each of his sister's sneers, "Looks like you finally learned better than to get your rear thrashed in public."
"Watch your back!" he launched back with full restraint, "I'll pick the battle, and you will lose. It's only a matter of time."
"Hah!" the Princess threw back at his threat. His words were as empty as each of her previous victories over her brother two years her elder. Prince Link had tried almost every trick in the book to gain the better of her: surprise ambushes, overwhelming numbers, even catching her unarmed. But no matter how unaware or outnumbered she was, the end result was always the same: the prince would flee in defeat.
The Princess picked up a piece of cheese, a handful of berries, and a piece of grilled cucco on a spit before hiding in the crowd of Hyborns. She had a much better time quietly making fun of everyone in the room. There was Sir Xanek and his bald patch the size of a fist. And there was her uncle's steward, a man so enlarged by his ravenous appetite that his gait resembled a waddling duck. The wretched brown haired twins spawned from one of her father's cousins were drooling over all the women's chests at the ripe age of seven. Nothing but horrible rumors about the boys, especially of their gluttonous, envious, and lustful nature, ever left their home barony. Good thing their barony was far enough away that she was afforded the privilege of seeing them only once a season. Still, four times a year was still too much, and today did not fall on the Autumn Day celebration unfortunately. Once her eyes locked on with theirs, the princess subtly slipped through a crowd to avoid being mentally placed in their undressing room.
"There you are!" came the high pitched squeal the Princess dreaded hearing. A woman still in her late teenage years waved to the princess, "Come join us, Princess, we're over here!"
Curly blonde hair stretching down to her lower back and a tall composure distinguished Princess Stelli from the rest of the Hyborns' daughters. The two princesses grew up together and had a long, complicated relationship symbolized perfect by their parents' complex politics. A light green dress embroidered with differently colored rupee stones along the gilded hems flaunted Stelli's family wealth ostentatiously. Even if the two princess' personalities were nothing alike, their family fortune would always serve as the common ground for their friendship.
However, the girls surrounding Stelli looked at the Princess as if she didn't belong. If only she were allowed to beat the group of dumb blondes down to a bloody pulp, then she could show them who belonged where. But Father said she could not, so there was no sense in being weird at that point. She walked over to the clique like a sociable person did and prepared to make her exit as soon as she made her polite and pleasant entrance, "Hello, I can't stay for long, I have to be with my father until wine hour is over."
"But Princess!" protested Princess Stelli, "we only see you once a year!"
"Hmph! I like limiting the occasions I have to see Princess Nohansen to a miserable once a year," added Princess Nostalia, the blonde, eagle-eyed witch spawn of Count Tabantha the Ancient.
"Away with ye," the shortest one, also objectively the homeliest of the lot, "we've never been offended by the Black Sheathe's absence anyway." The way Princess Crystal's toad jowls moved certainly infuriated the Princess, but nothing spiked her heart as fiercely as the nickname spread by the villainous commoners given to her barren womb. Then the other princesses around her uttered an "oooh", as if the Duchess of Eldin herself had insulted a mere peasant, even though Princess Crystal's father was naught more than a knight serving as one of Father's bodyguards.
But while the Princess would loved to have crushed Princess Toadface's skull in, she also understood the consequences that would have for Father. "My princesses," the Princess politely curtsied and took her leave as quickly as she could.
At least there was one person in this room that she could stand to be around. Her father. The tall man was hard to miss in the crowd. The great red surcoat, which fit snuggly even without any armor over his doublet, his thick white beard, and his gold crown towered above all in the ballroom. As the princess got closer, she could begin to recognize the councilmen conversing with her father. A chancellor, a steward, and a bishop distinguished themselves through their choice of fashion: two red sashes over the cerulean overcoat, the sky blue doublet, and the red garbs and ceremonial crown, respectively. The dwarf sized bishop was the one who recognized her.
"Ah! Princess Nohansen, we were just talking about you!" said the youthful man with a polite, honest tone of voice.
She suddenly felt a blush run up her face when all four turned to look at her. It was her father's deep, calming voice that put her at ease, "How very appropriate that you join us for this conversation!" His arm extended forth and invited the Princess for a fatherly embrace.
"Why is that?" she sheepishly asked him while feeling his comforting warmth.
The steward, adjusting his thick glasses, answered her, "Your father was just saying that once you became Queen of Hyrule, he would appoint us to your personal council." The Princess did her best to contain the displeasure on her face at the sound of that.
The four of them stared at her, waiting for a response. It was the nudge from her father that prompted her to deliver the line just she had rehearsed with him and Impa, "Oh, um, Viscount Mako, your legendary insight into the study of currency will serve me well in the coming years."
The old man perked up at the compliment, "Why, thank you Princess Nohansen!"
Her father grinned at the perfect delivery, sending a wave of relief and approval through her body, "That's my girl. Anything else to say?"
The princess took a heartbeat to recall the line from memory, "Mister Senza, your expertise with Other cultures will show us how to conquer lands far beyond our own."
The thick, black beard on the the mountain man's chiseled chin nodded to convey his gratitude.
"And," the princess continued, "the wise counsel from Brother Niko will ground my morality with the Goddesses." The priest bowed in gratitude, though the princess did not know if he knew that she had rehearsed this line hundreds of times during the prior tendo.
"Thank you," Lord Nohansen approvingly patted her on the back gently. "There will be more to your council. I will introduce them to you later."
Suddenly the soft ring of a triangle ringing in the banquet space quieted the room. It was the signal for the feast to begin. Everyone slowly shuffled from the wine room, which was actually a small extension to the much larger dinner hall.
The tables ran parallel along the walls in two layers, except at the end that led to the kitchen. Those who sat in the outer layer were the direct relatives of the Duke of Red Lions and any landed friends of the family. Those who sat in the inner layer were employed by those who sat in outer layer. Finally, there were rows of tables in the center for select knights, handmaidens, courtiers, and extended family members the Princess forgot even existed.
The Princess sat to the right of the fourteen year old girl betrothed to Father, Princess Nammio Ingo, the petite, quiet daughter of Lord Ingo. It was a betrothal meant to "solidify alliances", or so her father said. There was no way the Princess, six years older than Princess Ingo, would ever address her as "stepmother". The very word crossing through her thoughts invited nausea.
Even more insulting was the fact that Father arranged to seat himself next to his son and his… thing, and not his own beloved daughter. Father had learned the hard lesson when his children were only toddlers that seating the Princess next to Prince Link at any feast always created catastrophes worthy of declaring war over, hence why they had to sit on opposite sides of Father and his betrothed whore.
Princess Frogface took her place inside the innermost caste of tables, next to her mother and father who had an ugly jowl that was clearly passed down to his daughter. Princess Stelli joined her family, the rulers of Kensrook Barony from all the way north, in the outermost caste next to her her older brother, Prince Crowdley, a famously handsome hero at the age of nineteen. Genuine songs and stories of his battles up were sung of the young prince, unlike Prince Link who simply paid any so called poet to string together words to sustain his buoyant narcissism.
Sitting next to the Princess was her Uncle Drake and all his ugly progeny of the Nohansen family. Her Father's younger brother had a thin, brown beard and round tummy, but he looked more sickly and more portly than his stronger, healthier elder brother. Still, he had a useful aptitude for counting rupees and found honor as the Red Lion's steward. Sitting at the corner of the outer table was the family of the youngest of the Nohansens. The rugged mountain lord, Uncle Dorith, was the only other person in the banquet room comparable in stature to Father, and the only position in Father's counsel that suited such a barbaric, hairy man was war marshal. Alongside his dainty wife were his six sons, each looking like they were well disciplined in the ways of war and poised to take their father's place at any given notice.
Despite all the fancy decor, bountiful food, the soft music, and happy gaieties, the Princess managed to keep a sour pout during the entire feast. Even without making eye contact with the chefs, she could feel their trembling underneath their silly white hats and aprons. Before the pathetic carving chefs could ask which part of the roasted beast she would like, the Princess ordered them impatiently, "The whole damn arm!"
Her answer drew an irate look from Father. "Temperance, Zelda," his soothing voice also meant his words were indisputable, but it did not stop her from folding her arms and rolling her eyes visibly.
She responded with a pout on her face, "The meatier half of the arm!"
She just needed to get through this stupid evening without making a scene. Eat her food politely. Chew with her mouth closed. Drink only enough wine to appear copacetic. Extinguish any words attempting anything resembling conversation. And listen to her father.
After countless jesters and troubadours tried to woo and impress a frighteningly stoic princess, Father stood up slowly and raised his glass. A quiet breeze of hushes quieted the room into the silence the Princess so desired many hours ago.
With a deep, regal voice, the Duke of Red Lions began his prepared speech, "Ladies and Lords. I extend my warmest gratitude to you all for journeying many leagues to celebrate with us tonight. So many honorable and friendly faces grace our presence today. Truly, the honor is not mine, but yours, my loyal subjects and allies. Without your unending support, realizing the Goddesses' dream of taking power back from the tyranny of the Crown would have been a fool's dream. The many blessings of the Goddesses alone cannot win the support and loyalty of our people. That, was won by your wise leadership."
A soft round of applause floated amongst the crowd. "As I grow older, I learn that family gatherings where I am joined by my two children are becoming less common. It brings me boundless joy to have both at my side once more. As parents who fight for our children's future, I would like to remind generations young and old, that our family is defined by something beyond bloodlines. Family is also the very people you put your life on the line for. My lords and ladies, across the far reaching stretches of the Eldin Duchy, and to our allies in the Zellink Alliance, I do declare this: I fight for your children like I fight for my children, for you are all family to me. It is your children who inspire me to fight for our people. It is mine, chosen by the Goddesses, who will lead us to victory.
"I present to you, the new Chosen Hero of our era, the Champion of Courage, Prince Link Nohansen!" Her brother stood up proudly and ungloved his left, displaying his black triangle to the audience. They gaped in awe and gave him a standing ovation. And all he had to do was be born with that stupid triangle on his hand. He deserved none of the respect or attention he was receiving. He was but a mere bastard whose mother was still serving as a maid in the castle.
Unlike her brother's mark, which looked like someone had just inked a triangle onto the back of his hand, the insignia on the back of hers glowed with a soft golden light as if connected to the Triforce itself. Her mark was the definitive proof that her father's cause was righteous, for no other house was blessed with both the chosen hero and the Goddess Hylia reincarnate.
The Nohansens. The Triforce on her hand and her brother's hand became the rallying call for the lords of the realm, proving to be a powerful and symbolic bargaining chip during negotiations. To drive the point even further that Father's cause was backed by the Goddesses, he had even named his silly little boy's club after his own children. Little did the most powerful Hyborns of Hyrule know that the most influential alliance in all the realm was named after a sick obsession of their leader's own children. With their support, and with the mark on her hand, she was going to be the future ruler of Hyrule. This much Father had promised her. And Father never broke his promises.
However, Father made no mention of her, her birthday, or her mark, and as he continued spouting the fake stories about his son, Princess Zelda clenched her fists in fury so tightly that Princess Nammio next to her was beginning to take notice of a strange heat emanating from underneath the table.