/Alright, Hello everyone, and apologies for my Hiatus! This is that Legend of Zelda story I've been working on. I do have so much more of it written, but as this is a tale I'm playing very close to the chest, I am only posting the bits that I am confident are worth the read. It is a work in progress, but I do hope you enjoy this take on the beloved Franchise.../
The clouds had begun to gather late in the morning over the kingdom, first starting as towers of white, then darkening.
In almost complete synchronization with the first clouds of the day's weather, the queen had felt the first contraction. Silently touching her king's arm and squeezing, she conveyed in one instant what she wasn't able to say. He looked to her, cautious. His wife had had false labor earlier in the month, and they had left the infirmary wing, still expecting their heir.
Within moments, the courts had been dismissed, and The royals had taken up their previous posts in the infirmary. The king sat on a stool, holding his queen's hand, patiently waiting for the healers to join them and for the delivery to be underway. The clouds had already gotten thicker, but were still airy, the sun still shining brightly upon the lands. It was much this way for the afternoon as the hours passed.
Then it was time for the King and Queen to part ways, hopefully to meet again with an addition to their family. He kissed her brow, and left the birthing room, setting his pattern of pacing that would take up the majority of his day henceforth.
The clouds had thickened, and a rumble of thunder echoed through the castle- though rather than frightening, it was a peaceful rumble, like the sigh of a sleeping lion. The healers busied themselves, to ease the queen's discomfort, and pains, while others prepared for her delivery. Then the complications arose.
The labor grew longer, and more difficult for the queen, and the King could do little more than wear a path with his worried pacing.
The storm grew in severity, as did the screams from the birthing room. Now, every peal of thunder shook the very castle's bricks from mortar, lighting struck nearby and threatened to hit buildings.
A terrible flash, followed blast of deafening thunder, caused the infirmary tower to shake, those within wondering if it might even collapse. The blast rung in the king's ears...
The queen's last, loud scream was drowned by the crack, followed by the giant boom that shook goblets off of tables, and scattered medical instruments. Even as the King recovered from the loss of hearing, the screaming of an infant was slowly taking over the sudden silence.
A princess.
The healers had only finished bathing the child and placed her in the arms of her mother when the King forced his way into the room and to his family's side. He smiled, meeting his exhausted queen's eyes, then lifted the child so the healers could tend to his wife. A tangled mass of dark hair, like her father, and a pretty blush and color. Her eyes wouldn't take color for a few days, but he knew they would be her mother's shade of green. Turning to the window, he watched as even now the storm was slowly fading off, drifting out of the city and across to the sea beyond their country. Lifting his new daughter up to the light, he glanced back to the queen, and then to a scribe that had followed him into the birthing room, to write the certification and proclamations of the birth of Hyrule's heir.
"Zelda. Zelda the Stormborn."
~~~Age Eight~~~
"Och, child, settle down for your lessons, or I'll box your ears!" Impa, the nursemaid chastized, swatting at the eight-year-old. Laughing, the girl sprinted around the room, barely evading the nanny's clutches before sliding under the study table. There the older woman caught her, pulling her out and sitting her firmly in a chair at the table. "Small one, If you do not behave and study with me, you will not be allowed outside time before supper!" She scolded a bit harshly, but sat down, opening an old tome with yellowed pages and faded ink.
"Impa! I don't want to learn of MORE peace treaties and negotiations! Not today..." The girl rested her elbow on the table and set her chin in her hand, promptly getting a swatting on the wrist for bad manners.
After the small punishment for the poor posture, Impa closed the book with a snap, a sound one wouldn't expect from a novel so large, or old. "Then shall we practice your etiquette?"
"No!" The thought of etiquette lessons dismayed the princess more than history lessons.
"Then What?"
She thought for a moment, then smiled. "Tell me of the one in your tribe, Sheik of the Sheikah!"
"Haven't you heard that one enough?"
"NO!"
The nanny sighed, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her temples. The child was lovable, but obstinate as any she'd ever met. "Very well, highness. Long ago, when-"
"Impa, can Rickon come up to join us?" She stood, running to the window to look down on the gardens. There was a boy there, with a wooden sword, itching to play- he was the blacksmith's son, and Zelda's best friend. "No, let us go outside for lessons. Please? Please, Impa?" The nanny laughed and consented, being worn down as usual by the child's enthusiasm, as well as a charm that was all but undeniable. Laughing, the girl raced out of the library, leaving the nanny to try her hardest to catch up.
By the time Impa had reached the gardens, the princess and the blacksmith's boy were already sparring, he with his wooden sword, her with a stick found on the ground, both somehow covered in grass stains and dirt, only within a few minutes. The Princess landed a good whack on his shoulder, and when she lifted her small fists to celebrate, he jabbed her in the stomach, knocking her down.
"THAT WAS NO FAIR! I had bested you!" She stood, stomping, and pushing the boy, enough for him to stumble, but keep his footing.
"A princess never shoves!" Impa scolded sharply, and Zelda immediately hunched her shoulders. She turned to her nanny, pointing at the boy, but Impa stopped. "For NO reason. You are not to shove anyone."
"He cheated! I chopped his head off, and he still stabbed me!"
"Yes, princess, but perhaps he had the strength to strike out in his final breath." Always a lesson to be learned, Impa thought, and she sat on a nearby park bench. The boy laughed, agreeing with the princess's nanny. "Ne'er count your chickens before they hatch, little ones, especially before you celebrate a victory you aren't completely certain of."
Both children now sat on the grass in front of her, and Zelda tugged the woman's skirts. "Tell us about Sheik of the Sheikah!"
She wasn't going to forget, was she? The woman sighed, smiling. "Well, now that young Rickon is privy to the story, I have your permission? Long ago, back before even your parents great-grandparents were born, there was A fair ruler, whom shares your name, Princess... Zelda. I suppose you would look like the paintings of her, except she was blonde of hair and you are of fairer skin. She was a very wise ruler, blessed with the wisdom of our Goddess Nayru... "
The words flowed easily now, and both children were enchanted by tales of the evil King that threatened the land, the young hero from the south that came to their aide, the magic the princess used to hide herself for eight years from the clutches of the evil one, so she could return with the hero to claim her throne again. As soon as the King and Queen gave approval, their princess would be learning of some of the same magic that was in the story- and Impa was giving the history lesson, without the children knowing anything otherwise.
Her story came to an end, and then she pulled a blue flute, an ocarina, just to enchant the two, and played short, jaunty tune for them. Laughing, the princess stood, and without touching it, she looked at the instrument. "Is this the same one as the story?"
Impa joined in her laughter. "No, child, this is not... but did you know this was all truth?" Both children shook their heads no, now amazed that it was all real.
The princess puffed her chest out, and turned back to Rickon. "I'm going to be a fierce warrior, like Sheik! You'll never know I'm going to whip you until you're lying in the dirt!" She picked her stick back up again, but Impa grabbed it quickly, holding it from the child's reach.
"Och, child, you're as temperamental and unpredictable as the storm you were born in!" Then she relented, giving back the 'sword' and letting the children play. After all, it was a beautiful day, and it would make it easier to get the stubborn young one into bed later if she was worn out.
~~~Age Twelve~~~
"Impa, if Mother has a son, do I still have to take the throne?" The princess sat, poking holes in the cloth with her needle, rather than working on her embroidery... a pattern of a lovely spring garden, for the nursery. She stopped, looking up at the chambermaid that had once served as her nanny.
The older woman stopped her knitting, looking to the child. "It is your duty, though if the child is healthy, you may abdicate your title and it will pass to the next eligible heir, regardless of whether the Queen has a son or daughter." She nodded, as though that settled the matter, then picked up her knitting again, counting stitches before continuing.
"Well, if I abdicate, might I be able to travel more, see other lands? I could always act as Father's ambassador, and then my younger brother or sister's when they take over." She had been thinking this over carefully, wanting nothing more than a less-protected lifestyle... a bit of freedom.
"You'll have to discuss that with your father the King."
"But I have, and he said that the throne was my inheritance, but if I can allow my younger sibling that ... 'honor', I could explore, see other realms... Mother says that he or she will be coming soon, but isn't it too soon?" She bit her lip, expecting a scolding for talking too much, and started her embroidering again, looking over at the chambermaid from the corner of her eye.
Without dropping a stitch, Impa continued. "The queen had quite a few false labors with you, it comes as no surprise that she could with this new little one. It is merely a wonder that it has taken so long for another small prince or princess to arrive." Impa didn't mention the other children that never arrived, nor did anyone else. She didn't mention the complications already arising with this little one, either. She wasn't going to worry her charge.
Zelda watched her expressions change warily, then glanced out the window. It had started a dreary day, and remained rainy and messy outside for all of the morning and early afternoon. Then she stood- there was a feeling, in her chest, a tightening. Something wasn't right. "Impa..." The nursemaid stood, setting her own needlework aside silently, watching the princess with concern, until Zelda suddenly turned and ran from the sitting room, bowling over guards and maids alike in a mad sprint to the infirmary.
The King was outside the door, pale-faced, though rather than pacing, he stood. She ran to his side, clutching his hand. Glancing down, he wrapped an arm around Zelda, kissing the top of her head. "Your mother was brought up not long after you went to lessons... I didn't want to alarm you. The queen is in labor..." The sounds inside were muffled, though there wasn't a sound of the queen's voice in the conversations. She hid her face against her father's chest, but refused to cry. There was no danger, perhaps she was just given a draught of sleep to ease the pain.
The hours ticked by, and their vigil was never broken, not even by a healer within to update the King or Princess. Dinner was neglected, and long after sunset, the door finally opened, but the healer closed it behind him quickly, shaking his head. "The little prince was still-born." No tears were shed, yet. As far as Zelda knew, a child had died- but the king's face fell, his sorrow too deep for tears- he knew of the other children that had miscarried. He held his daughter close, but she looked at the healer suddenly.
She needed a different answer... and he wasn't saying what she wanted to hear, yet. "Mother, how upset is Mother?" The healer hesitated, looking to the King, unable to speak. Zelda pulled from her father suddenly, pushing past the healer into the room. "Mother, mother are you-" The others in the room were draping a sheet over the form on the birthing bed, while yet another had the child wrapped completely in a cloth. "M-mother? Mummy?" She looked back out the door at her father, and the healer still standing there.
She ran, evading the grasps of all who would have tried to stop her. She left the castle grounds, through the city streets, avoiding horses, carts, and commoners in her blind sprint, until she could run no longer. When she had stopped, dropping to her knees from exhaustion, she looked up at the old temple- it had been there for centuries, painstaking measures had been taken to it's renovation and preservation. It was only used by the Holy Mages or during special religious ceremonies... but it would be empty now. She knew she could be alone.
Completely Alone.
She entered the building, exploring it, and all of the places. There was one door, behind a large curtain, that had been locked. She had started lessons in magic, and though Impa didn't know, she had found a spell for unlocking things, and practiced it. She tried it now, hearing the satisfying click of the door unlocking, and she pushed through, leaving the door ajar.
Beyond stood the large, broken and repaired relic, the symbol of the Goddesses. The relic her father's kingdom had been built upon. The Triforce.
She knew not to touch it, it was old, and therefore quite fragile, and turned to leave the room... then turned back. She stared, for seconds, minutes... hours... time didn't matter here. The relic drew her, called to her. She reached up, touching one of the triangular shapes- it burned, then everything went black.