Hyrule was in a state of unease. The future of the kingdom looked bleak. The people had begun to lose hope. Even now, the forces that would destroy Hyrule marched upon her gates, ready to strike the final blow.
The King sat alone in his office, his head lowered, his eyes downcast. Outside, it rained. He had failed. He had failed his people. He had failed Hyrule. The war was not over. His army was faltering; their spirits had been stripped. The Gerudo forces approached his city, a dark shadow on the horizon.
The King raised his head; a slow, almost painful motion for him. His eyes were bloodshot, encircled by the darkness of insomnia. His white, withered hands shook like that of a man twice his age. Indeed, he did not look himself. He had aged decades in a single year.
Today should have been a day of celebration, but he could not find it in his heart to do so. How could he, when everything had crumbled so rapidly around him? His enemies grew stronger, thanks to his own foolish actions. His allies were dwindling. The Zoras had ignored his plight, just as he had failed to acknowledge them. The Sheikah had been slaughtered. His own doing. And for what? Nothing.
He stared out of the castle window, an empty man.
There was a quiet knock at the door, barely heard over the pounding of the rain outside. "Your Majesty?" a voice inquired.
The King struggled to meet the gaze of his servant. The weight of the crown upon his head suddenly seemed much too heavy for him. "Yes?" he rasped, his voice hoarse.
"It's…the Queen, my lord." The servant regarded his king with sadness.
Under normal circumstances, the King would be surprised that his attendant would dare to meet his gaze. Tonight, however, was not normal circumstances. The King blinked, unsure if the implication was what he suspected.
"The Queen?" he did not recognize the man's voice that came from his own lips. This man sounded tortured; defeated. It could not be him.
The manservant bowed his head in sympathy. "Come quickly, my lord."
Naron paced anxiously through the small sitting room, resisting the urge to run a hand through his dark hair. A habit he did when he was nervous. A cry of pain sounded through the small house, echoing in the too-small spaces. His heart lurched at the sound. He couldn't bear it any longer.
The soldier rushed up the narrow wooden stairs, taking them two at a time. At the top he turned the corner, reaching for the handle of the closed door just in front of him. It suddenly opened, causing him to take a step back. A matronly woman emerged, shutting it quickly behind her.
"She is fine," the midwife assured him, shoving Naron away from the door. "Do not make things harder on her."
"She needs me," Naron protested, trying to move past her.
The midwife shook her head. "It is almost time. Excuse me." She brushed past him, carrying an empty basket to the hall closet. She reached inside for some clean linen, filling the basket, before re-entering the room.
The door clicked shut as another scream sounded from inside. Naron winced. He leaned back against the wall next to the door, trying to ignore her cries of pain. Slowly his body slid to the floor and he rested his elbows on his knees, breathing steadily to calm himself.
A door further down the hall opened quietly. Light footsteps approached the soldier and he looked up as a little voice said, "Da?"
Naron raised his head, opening his arms wide. The little boy rushed into them. "It's all right," he assured his son, smoothing his dark hair back.
The boy looked into his father's eyes anxiously. His dark blue eyes glanced at the closed door several times. "Mama?" he asked softly.
The father forced a smile onto his face. "Mama will be okay," he soothed, mussing up the boy's black hair. The toddler resembled his father a great deal, even at this young age. His blue eyes were his mother's, though.
Another heart-wrenching cry shook the father and son. It was more insistent this time. The door opened and the midwife appeared, anxiously ushering them inside. Naron wasted no time. He scooped his son into his arms, rushing to his wife's bedside.
He set the boy into a nearby chair. He curled up without a sound, understanding in the way children do when it is time to behave. Naron sat on the bed next to her, raising her hand to his mouth to kiss it. The bed was small, but sturdy. He suddenly felt ashamed that all he had been able to provide for her comfort was this simple bed. As if confirming his thoughts, she shifted her weight.
"Are you comfortable, Shaiya?" he asked anxiously, moving to adjust the pillows behind her head.
She shook her head sternly. "I'm fine, Naron," she replied. "Do not think you have failed me in some way, simply because we are not wealthy." At his shocked look, she managed a breathless laugh. "You forget, my dear. I can read your mind."
"Ever since we first met," he agreed with a laugh.
"Do you remember that day?" she asked, closing her eyes. Her face pinched as pain took over.
"Like it was yesterday," he replied, smoothing her damp hair back from her forehead. His hand tenderly brushed her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, sighing.
"Tell me," she requested.
He managed a smile before sitting back down. Leaning forward, he held her limp hand in his. When the pain came, her fingers squeezed weakly. As memories of that day filled his mind's eye, he began to recount his version of events.
Excitement was paramount in the crowd. So potent was the joy of the people that it overshadowed all other emotion. All the fear, anxiety, hate and grief the war had brought was forgotten on the hot summer afternoon. The citizens had gathered to witness the crowning of a new king; a man who would end the war that had ravaged the land of Hyrule for too long.
The ceremony was taking place in one of the vast outdoor courtyards of Hyrule castle. The people of Castle Town and those in the surrounding areas had been invited to witness the coronation. They filled any open space, sitting on the grassy areas, leaning against trees or sitting on the low stone walls.
Of course, the noble families of Hyrule were seated at privileged spots nearest the castle entrance. The Prince stood in his royal garb at the top of the stone steps, in front of the massive double doors. With him were several attendants and councillors, ready to begin the ceremony. Behind him stood an array of royal guards, as well as a small group surrounding a young woman dressed in a fine gown and jewels; she was the Prince's wife and future queen.
Soldiers surrounded every corner and walkway of the courtyard, keeping everything in check. These were lower ranking soldiers, not the personal guards of the royal family. A group of young soldiers lounged against the western wall, taking in the sight.
"I heard a rumor that the Princess is pregnant already," one of the soldiers commented, peering over the heads of the crowd at the finely dressed young woman.
"There's no way to tell from this distance," Naron replied, his height a definite advantage as he surveyed the crowd of townspeople.
The first soldier turned to his tall friend. "He won't have the throne for long if his wife bears him a girl," he said, causing the other soldiers to laugh.
The line of succession always went to the firstborn girl, even if she had older brothers. Of course, the Prince was an only child, and after the passing of his mother, the late Queen, he had been next in line for the throne. Since his wife had married into the royal family, she could not rule alone if her husband died; in that case her firstborn daughter would take the throne.
"It will most likely be a girl," Naron said over the laughter of his friends. "The goddesses have smiled upon us today."
"They certainly have," said the first soldier, brushing his sandy blonde hair out of his face. "Let's go out and celebrate tonight. What do you say, lads?"
The men roared with approval. As they continued to gossip amongst themselves, the tall young man kept his post, watching the crowd for any scuffles. From the corner of his eye he noticed a group of young noblewomen approaching from the west pathway.
"Speaking of goddesses…" he murmured, gesturing to his fellow soldiers.
He quickly dusted off his uniform and combed his fingers through his untidy black hair. Dark hair was a rarity in Hyrule. Most Hylians had blonde hair and blue or green eyes. Shades of brown and red were also common; black hair was a recessive trait. His darkly handsome looks and the combination of light blue eyes and midnight dark hair had gotten him noticed before. He prayed it came through this time.
The soldiers grouped together on the edge of the stone pathway, giving the young noblewomen their most charming smiles. The ladies giggled and smiled flirtatiously as they passed the young soldiers. Their dresses created a flurry of colors as they passed by, their lustrous hair and jewelry sparkling in the sunlight.
The dark-haired solider found his interest drawn to one girl in particular. His pale blue eyes locked onto hers; deep and dark as sapphires. Her young, pretty face was lit up by her exquisite smile. Her golden hair fell in soft curls around her beautiful face, like soft golden clouds surrounding a bright sun.
The girl returned his smile, neither one able to look away. Finally, their eye contact was broken as her friends ushered her forward. She looked back for the handsome, dark-haired soldier. She blushed when she realized he was still staring after her, mouth open in awe. One gloved hand reached to push her hair behind one pointed ear. There was a wink of light as something sparkly dropped from her hair into the grass.
The young soldier jumped forward, searching the grass for whatever the beautiful girl had dropped. She was taking her place next to the steps now, unaware that she had dropped something. The soldier ignored the shouts from his companions, retrieving from the grass the tiny sapphire earring the noblewoman had dropped. The gem was priceless; it would have garnered a price that was more than twice his salary.
He rushed towards the nobility's seats. He slipped easily through the crowd, stopping behind the golden-haired woman's seat. Slowly, he reached out a hand to place on her shoulder.
"Milady," he whispered when she startled.
He gently reached for one delicate, white gloved hand. Inside he placed the sapphire earring, closing her fingers around it.
"You dropped this," he murmured, moving to turn away.
She clenched her hand around his, keeping him at her side. "Your name?" she asked softly.
He grinned. "Naron."
She smiled back. "Shaiya."
He being a lowly soldier, her family had not approved of their relationship. They had eloped. Five blissful years had passed since their marriage, and they now lived in this small house in the quiet village of Tellura, just a few miles north of Kakariko. It was little more than a year later that Shaiya gave birth to their first son.
Tonight would be the birth of their second. Another boy.
"Tonight is a lucky one," the midwife murmured.
She was the village's only healer, and she was well versed in magic. The superstitious residents often asked her for advice they believed she could garner from the movement of the constellations or the cycles of the moon. It was early spring, and the moon was full. According to the magic woman, it was one of the best times for a child to be born. Any child born on this day would be special.
"Lucky?" he asked, skeptical. He had never been one to believe silly superstition.
The old woman nodded, wiping his wife's brow with a cool, wet cloth. "Yes. After so many unfortunate miscarriages, the Queen is finally giving birth to a healthy daughter."
He raised a brow. "How can you possibly know that? There has been no news from the castle of any kind in weeks."
The midwife chuckled. "The gods are amongst us, tonight. The new Princess and your son will be born tonight. Children of destiny. Mark my words."
His attention was diverted as Shaiya began to cry out again. She squeezed his hand in her own tiny, slender white one. The midwife was right, their second child was about to be born.
Hours later, she lay in their bed, resting. She breathed normally now, and for that, he thanked the gods. Kane was asleep in a chair next to his mother's bed. Naron ruffled his hair fondly, trying not to wake him.
The old midwife was busy with his newborn son, murmuring prayers as she swaddled the squalling infant. She turned to face him, holding the baby out to him. He took him carefully, holding him close to his chest as he watched his family sleeping. He was so tired. He'd been up all night worrying since she had gone into labor.
"What will you name him?" the midwife asked.
He smiled down at the newborn. He and Shaiya had had a name picked out ever since they'd discovered she was pregnant again.
"His name is Link."
Miles away, the King of Hyrule watched as his newborn daughter, the Princess Zelda, was brought over and placed gently in his arms. He held the infant in the crook of one arm, swaying her to stop her cries. With the other he softly reached over and lifted the Queen's hand in his. It was cool and fragile. A tear slipped down his chin, staining the pure white blanket surrounding the monarch. With a shaking hand, the King reached up to his beloved's face, closing her eyes for the final time.
A servant came to take the child from him as he knelt next to the Queen's bedside. She had not survived the trials of childbirth. He prayed fervently to the goddesses as he held her hand in his, tears silently leaking onto the bed.
He prayed for the power to lead Hyrule back into peace and prosperity. He prayed for the courage to overcome the grief of losing his beloved wife. And finally, he prayed for the wisdom he would need to raise his newborn, precious daughter.