Author's note: I am aware that this is a shorter chapter. You will most likely understand why this is so after reading it. I assure you that the third chapter is quite long, and is simply in need of some polish before being published. Keep in mind that these first few chapters were written months ago; they certainly needed some dusting off.

Obligatory: I do not own any of the characters or settings in this story. That was all Nintendo.

Chapter 2

Bodice

Sunlight dappled the forest floor, weaving its way through the thick green canopy overhead. A gentle breeze found its way through the dense maze of tree trunks, bringing with it the deliciously sweet scent of pond lilies. Delicate curtains of lichen draped over the highest branches, casting a complex web of shadows. The day was new; had it not been for the leaves dancing in the tame draft, the scenery could be mistaken as an elaborate portrait.

Throughout the woods, the trees seemed to softly whisper, calling adventurous souls deeper into the unknown. Day by day, she found herself answering those calls, stepping lightly, as if she was afraid to disrupt the serene ambience. The trees seemed to mirror her cautious demeanour, creating a thick sense of tension. A wispy veil of fog obscured the leaf litter, and wrapped gently around her ankles as she walked.

The silence was nearly deafening; as she distanced herself from civilisation the clamor of humanity ebbed. Such carelessness, an entire society surrounded by the delicate constructs of undiscovered subtleties, perhaps watching and waiting and judging. Had the forest been granted the blessing of thought, so to look down upon her and her wretched upbringing with scorn?

Her surroundings were still familiar. Her eyes were able to seek landmarks that were unbeknownst to most people. Further she traveled, searching intently for signs of variation among the relentless expanse of greenery. She squinted her eyes and pressed forward. Several times, she felt cobwebs graze her forearms, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

At long last, the forest seemed to open. A small clearing interrupted the thick stretch of foliage. A smile of satisfaction crossed her lips. She settled on her back in the middle of the glade, allowing the cool grass to caress the nape of her neck. She rested this way for hours, and watched as the sun lazily made its way across the sky. The forest around her seemed to stir contrarily to the girl's lethargy. The air became thick and heavy, seemingly encumbered by the shrill sounds of insects and the pungent odours of awakening flowers. Birds flitted unnoticed among the canopies of green.

Her eyelids began to droop. The world was consumed by semidarkness as fatigue gradually pulled her into the soothing depths of slumber.

"Hah! I knew you'd be here, Zelda."

Zelda let out a quiet gasp, and quickly sat upwards. She turned towards the source of the voice. "Link, you startled me! Don't sneak up on me like that," Zelda complained.

"Heh..." Link took a few steps in her direction, looking pleased with himself. "What's so great about this place, anyways?"

"It's nice." Zelda lay back again, closing her eyes and absorbing the radiant warmth of the sun. "Besides, it's refreshing to have some peace and quiet once in a while." She opened one eye and looked accusingly at Link.

Link frowned and sat near Zelda, folding his legs neatly. "Oh, come on. I'm not that bad, am I?"

Zelda smiled and closed her eyes again, but said nothing, answering his question with silence.

Link pouted briefly, but didn't continue the mock argument. He combed the grass with his fingers. It was pleasantly soft, like velvet, very different from the dry carpet of leaves that covered the forest floor. The cool turf was a perfect contrast to the sunlight, which was agonizingly warm. Link removed his cap and ruffled his hair with one hand. Already, his scalp was producing warm beads of sweat. "Well, unfortunately, I didn't find you just to chat. Your father sent me to fetch you."

Zelda hummed thoughtfully. She was still drowsy from lying in place for so long, and she was only half-listening to Link. Her fingers lazily traced the intricate patterns that adorned her dress.

Link could tell that he didn't have her full attention, so he decided to get her talking instead, "Why do you think he wants to see you?"

Zelda raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious?" She stifled a yawn before sitting up, bringing her knees to her chest. "He wants me to take a larger part in governing Hyrule... After all..." Zelda trailed off uncomfortably, and started to trace the designs on her dress again.

"Oh, that's right! You're almost twenty-one! So..." Link adopted a mischievous expression. "How's it feel? I mean, you're gonna be a full-fledged princess soon. Aren't you excited?"

Zelda gave an unhappy shrug. "Kind of, well... not really. I'm nervous, actually. This whole thing seems kind of overwhelming."

"Why? It'll be fun!" Link leaned back, supporting his weight with the heels of his hands. "You'll be able to do whatever you want, it's not like anyone could argue. So what's the big deal?"

"It's not like that!" Zelda let out an impatient sigh. "It's just... Everyone's been looking at me lately... as if they think I'm destined to be some sort of great ruler that can solve all the town's problems. I think people expect too much of me..."

Link cast a sidelong glance in her direction. "Well, it's not like you're one to make mistakes, anyways. Who knows? Maybe you'll be good at it."

Zelda frowned. "Forget it..." She started to pluck blades of grass from the soil, gently easing them upwards in an attempt to expose their tender white roots.

As she retained her pensivity, Link's brow slowly furrowed with concern. He was never much in the way of an advisor, as he was the one generally requiring guidance and coercion. He considered placing a hand on her shoulder, but decided against it. Knowing the princess for so many years, it was hard to imagine her as anything but the strong-willed individual she had chosen to portray herself as. Occasionally, it seemed that the people he was closest to disquieted him the most with their emotion.

The area dimmed momentarily as a small cloud passed over the sun. Almost instantly there was a drop in temperature, which quelled the characteristic drone of warmth. An uncomfortable silence ensued, making Link squirm restlessly. "You know, you shouldn't even be this far into the Lost Woods."

"Link, I've been here several times before. It seems safe enough."

"Sure, sure. That's because it's luring you into a false sense of security. Nothing's happened yet, but let your guard down for a second and..." Link broke off, looking from side to side, as if he expected the trees themselves to uproot and attack them.

Zelda let out a soft chuckle, amused at Link's irrational fear.

"I'm serious!" His expression was indeed serious. "Haven't you ever heard the tale of Hikal, the girl who got lost in the forest?"

"No I haven't. Please, enlighten me." Zelda turned to face Link, listening intently.

"Well, you see... There was a girl, named Hikal... Anyways, she caused her parents a lot of grief. Every night she seemed to be coming home later." Link loudly cleared his throat. "But she wasn't like any of the other young girls in the village... She wasn't spending her time with some boy, she didn't drink, and she had always been kind and considerate." Link paused to make sure Zelda was still listening.

"So, what happened?" Zelda pressed.

"Well, as it turned out, she had been going to the Lost Woods. She ventured deeper and deeper every day, as if she was in a trance. It worried her parents terribly. Each night they lay awake in bed, listening for her return. One night, they realized that they had lain awake 'til the dawn."

Zelda raised one eyebrow and smirked gently, surprised that Link's serious demeanor hadn't lifted. "What happened to Hikal?"

"On that night, she had ventured so far into the woods that her legs began to tremble in exhaustion. She collapsed at the foot of a tree, and drifted off to sleep." Link paused for dramatic effect. "Nobody ever saw her again. Some say that as she slept, the tree wrapped its roots around her helpless body and encased her in bark. Now, when she tries to speak, acorns fly out of her mouth instead of words, and she-" Link stopped talking as he realized that Zelda had begun to giggle.

"Link... that's ridiculous. Nursery tales like that are just meant to get children home by their curfew."

Link sniffed, mildly embarrassed. "Fine, then! If something bad happens, though... Don't say I didn't warn you." He got to his feet stiffly and stretched his legs in turn. "I'm gonna go and find something for lunch. Want to come with me?"

Zelda settled onto her back again. "No, thank you. I'll stay here for awhile longer."

"Suit yourself." Link replaced his cap and stalked off in the direction of Hyrule, loudly crashing through the undergrowth as he went.

Zelda let her thoughts wander. Her initial conversation with Link had bothered her. "What if I am one to make mistakes..."She muttered to herself. It worried her terribly; being the center of attention had always made her uneasy. In a few months, though, the whole town would be watching her. They would offer silence in return for her triumphs, yet cry for her blood when she slipped-up. Zelda started kneading the material of her dress anxiously.

Though she didn't doubt his political superiority, Zelda had grown distant from her father in recent years. To him, the reputation of the monarchy transcended his paternal duties. Zelda knew that his tendencies were necessary for the continued prosperity of the kingdom, though she still resented him for his abrupt change of character as she aged. She longed for the days when she could speak to him about difficulties in school, ask him for personal advice, or when he would sit by her bedside and tell her stories of grandeur, heroism and triumph. As she reminisced, she released a heavy sigh provoked by nostalgia.

She missed the stories the most. When did the fantastical tales of her youth make way for the dull repetition of maturity and responsibility? Why was she now expected to disregard her own interests when they were accommodated with such enthusiasm from her family and peers as a child?

Zelda's eyes once again drifted to the patterns upon her garment. They were so perfect, so elegant. As the gentle weaves of fabric expanded outwards they formed a collective aesthetic piece, one which was much greater than the sum of its abstract parts. It was truly the work of an artist, the tailor who had fashioned such cloth had likely made a fair amount of rupees from his work. Yes, the tailor, living his admirable existence of weaving incomprehensible nonsense; beautiful, nonetheless. Her finger traced yet another line, tipped with a golden flourish, framed delicately by similar patterns. She hated it.

The sun had barely touched the horizon when Zelda rose to her feet. She had kept her father waiting long enough. Zelda trudged reluctantly through the forest, which was now bathed in an orange hue as the sun sank.