Chapter 14: Gift
It was said that when angered, the heat from a dragon's body had the potential to be hot enough to start wildfires, merely by being close to combustible vegetation. If such a theory was true, the fate of the dried, trimmed lawn of Hyrule Castle's training field was starting to look bleak right now.
"Volga," said Impa with a raised brow. "I'd appreciate it if we can keep our training field thriving for the next couple of years."
Several of the new recruits sniggered, others took a few steps away in fear, and some shook their heads with brazen disapproval. Unlike a portion of the residents from Hyrule, these humans did not dote on his rising fame, did not join the bandwagon of the notion that dragons were suddenly guardians of royalty. From their kingdoms, dragons were still viewed as great threats, even if they were practically extinct.
And then of course, there were the kingdoms that believed dragons to be myths. So acknowledging Volga from what they had heard of him was nothing short of disbelief for them.
Volga's eyes examined the patch of grass beneath him. Sure enough, he could see the flames flickering from his body, the orange glow making the leaf blades look like they had been brushed with autumn streaks. Having mastered his control over his abilities over the years, preventing burns on the likes of humans, clothes, and general property wasn't an issue. What he couldn't prevent however, was the burning inside him.
It would happen when he'd hear the foreign royals discuss in low mutters amongst themselves, on how they planned to appeal to the princess.
They would brag about their various skills; one of them proficient with a crossbow, claiming he fired a single bolt at the fastest falcon from their land, having taken down the bird while on horseback. Another boasted about how he had engaged in close combat with an enormous bear, armed with nothing but a letter knife. Then there would be the occasional recruits who had no particular physical talent, but instead, were charismatic negotiators, highlighting that they were best suited for promoting trade and recruiting allies. The list just went on.
And Volga had heard them all, had paid close attention to each story, whether they were truth or lies. His satisfaction was seeing Impa's face react to some of the more exaggerated tales. At least he wasn't the only one aggravated by them. He could tell she was immensely relieved by the time their training session was over for the day.
But it wasn't just the pompous, warrior earls or the viscounts of pretentious chivalry. There was also the immature, and those tended to have no real interest in war or politics. Most of them had the privilege of being there simply because they had blood relation to some distant cousin of the other royal kingdoms. Over the next few days, Volga had the misfortune to come across these humans. Or rather, they had the misfortune to be caught by him.
The Dragon Knight had been on his way to start his midday shift at his standard guard post, when he heard fervid whispers emanating from the willow tree outside of Zelda's balcony. Frowning, he secured his spear and approached the tree, pushing aside the dangling leaves that partially obscured the source of the voices.
Crouched upon the massive branch - his branch where he'd have his night time chats with Zelda - were three humans, each foreigner recognizable to him among the new recruits. The shortest human was clambering to move around, a brass telescope in hand as he tried to adjust his position.
"Damn it, she has her curtains drawn!"
"No look, there's a tiny crevice in the center, if I can just focus the scope more… there we go. She's about to undress! I wonder how soft her -"
"Let me see that!" one of the humans snatched the telescope from him.
"Shut up you morons, we're going to be heard at this rate."
Heard indeed. Feeling quite flustered for more than sufficient reasons, Volga grabbed one of the protruding branches, picking one that was particularly flexible, and that would have enough range for what he intended to do. He pulled the branch toward himself, stretching it far as it would go, the springiness from the bark keeping it from snapping. As if readying a slingshot, Volga released the branch at them with a force that actually knocked them off balance, sending them tumbling to the ground.
They fell on top of each other in a tousled heap. Confounded, and groaning in pain, it took them a few minutes before they rolled on the ground, looking around to find out exactly what had happened. Wincing, they were about to try and get up, when the shadow of the Dragon Knight towered over them. Those eyes glowered at them, like the pins of a cactus, green and piercing.
"Oh… uh… ow, Dragon K-Knight, right?" one of the humans spluttered. "W-we were just, you know…"
"We were just -" another one of the humans interrupted.
"Just," the third one all but squeaked.
Volga made an impatient growl, the sound deep enough to send a nearby rabbit scurrying away in fear - whilst the humans weren't doing much better. "Well you can take your act of justing," he said cynically. "Away from the princess's quarters, and back to your kingdoms. I shall have to inform her about the unreliableness of curtains."
"Wait, you… you're not going to tell her, are you?" the shorter human panicked. "Please, no! This would jeopardize our reputation! We'll do anything you ask!"
"Don't bribe me, human," Volga spat. "If you want so much as a shred of hope for your honor, you would do well starting off by helping the servants and soldiers of the castle clean up the court yard. And not this court yard," he emphasized. "The one partially in rubbles from the night at the Masquerade Festival. If you so much as step foot in this court yard again, there will be more than just your reputation at stake."
Heeding to the Dragon Knight's suggestion and threat, they nodded frantically. Scrambling to their feet, they sprinted away from the area, too terrified to protest at their sore bodies from the fall.
Unfortunately, Volga's sour mood did not get better. Each passing day, the foreign royals would slowly start mustering up the courage to actually approach the princess when the opportunity presented itself to them, including times that he sought to be in her company. Times that were already difficult enough to find, with her pressing schedule. There were days where their evening chats were all he had to look forward to, and coincidentally, they were the times he felt the most at peace.
And today, he had spotted one of these foreign royals lurking about Zelda's garden. It had been the supposed bear slayer. Unlike the three humans Volga had handled, he did not immediately intervene with whatever this one was up to. But his attention was alert enough to sit up from his seat in the guards' break room.
Volga watched as the human peeked around nervously, apparently not wanting to be seen, which only raised his suspicions. Since he had been observing the human across the window from the sidelines, he assumed he had not been seen.
The human leaned over Zelda's flower bed, snagging a white tulip from the soil. He then set off on a hurried pace further into her garden. Volga quietly opened the door out of the break room, heading outside to trail after him.
"I'm sorry," Volga could hear Zelda's voice from the direction the human had disappeared in. "But I would really like to finish reading this chapter."
"Come now, Princess," the human insisted. "Not counting your gardens and court yards, they say you've never been outside. Allow me to treat you to a meal in town, at your pick. I'm sure your father would be more than willing to approve."
"I highly doubt that," said Zelda tersely.
Volga found them, but had kept his distance behind the cover of an arch way filled with jasmine vines, away from their sight. A voice was nagging in his head, telling him that he shouldn't be eavesdropping, but he couldn't bring himself to listen right now. He narrowed his eyes when the human offered Zelda the flower. How could he have the audacity to attempt to woo her with something he had stolen from her very own garden?
Zelda took the flower, acknowledgement in her sharp eyes, before she looked up at the imbecile. "Why, thank you," she said, in the most sarcastic, but polite manner that she could manage. "Seems I misplaced this one. I shall have to place it back with the others from my garden."
Even though he was annoyed, Volga could not help the smirk that crossed his lips, feeling a fierce pride for the princess.
The human clearly looked displeased with her response. Without asking, he took a seat next to her from where Zelda had been sitting on the edge of the fountain. She was holding an open book with her hands, barely paying him attention, which was further challenging the human's patience.
"You know," he said, trying again. "I've come a long way, much further north from here. My kingdom is an endless winter, ladened with snow practically the entire year. A fragile place of white and gray. Having you there with me would bring color to our lands." He reached for her hand.
Zelda stiffened, retreating her hand before he could touch her, and moving, little by little, further away from him. "That's too bad," she said, her tone growing more irate, and less civil. "Because I hate the cold. I prefer warmth."
The human stood up abruptly, glaring at her for a split second, before seizing the book from her grasp. "Perhaps if you took your nose out of your books, you would know where to find warmth."
There was certainly much warmth emitting from Volga right now, but Zelda took initiative. She stood up, her smaller form contrasting with his larger build, and she grabbed the book right back. Even though she managed to retrieve her novel however, the grip with which he held it caused a bundle of pages to rip, sending bits of parchment into the air, before falling like crumpled snow.
At the devastated look on her face, the despicable human crooned. "Aw, what's the matter?" he drawled. "Did I spoil your happily ever after ending?"
Volga was ready to do nothing more than to jump in and knock out those buck teeth. Zelda shut the book, perhaps trying to preserve as many of the pages as she could. It looked for a moment as if she was going to lean over to pick up the pages from the ground, but instead, she advanced on the human. Holding the book firmly by the spine, she made a sweeping motion as she swung it at him, smacking him hard on the face.
A few seconds of aghast, pained silence cut in, as the human pressed his hand against his face. A trickle of blood began to drip from his right nostril and his lips, showing signs of having possibly broken his nose and teeth. Furious, he lunged for her book once more, practically yanking it from her grasp, and then tossed it inside her fountain.
"No!" Zelda exclaimed, crestfallen.
"You little -" he started, making a move to clamp his fingers around her wrists, but he did not get far. Volga was done watching.
Grabbing the human by the back of his ruffled collar, Volga shoved him away from the princess, and stood between them, his pike positioned in a battle stance. "You've already crossed a line of disrespect," he snarled, a puff of hot air escaping his mouth and heating in his throat, his voice less human and more animalistic. "But if you want to cross a line of violence, you have me to answer to."
The human looked at him with wide eyes, intimidated, but he did not react as submissively as the other three Volga had dealt with earlier. "Easy there now," he said, as if speaking to a feral wolf, putting his hands up in the air to show that he did not intend to fight him. "You're that Dragon Knight, aren't you?"
Volga did not bother to respond, but he could feel Zelda's hand on his arm, trying to calm him.
"Did you know," said the human, trying to put on a braver facade when he noticed Volga's struggle to control himself. "In my kingdom, we hunt dragons for sport. Slaying a dragon is a testament of courage. It's a shame they're so rare, you would have made an interesting piece to our collection."
Zelda stepped forth to Volga's side, rather than staying behind him. "Well, we do not condone that here," she said icily. "And I'd suggest you start packing to return to your kingdom soon, lest my father hears of what had happened today."
He gave an amused scoff. "Look at you two, protecting each other. How unorthodox." He wiped the blood on his nose with a handkerchief from his pocket. "But very well, Your Highness. I shall do as you ask. I did not intend for all of this to… get out of hand."
If this was his way of apologizing, Volga did not care. He wanted him gone. When the human left the garden, Volga felt more at ease, but he was still seething. Zelda's hand on his arm was all that was keeping his head together right now.
After making sure she was alright, he took the discarded book from the fountain, and tried to rinse out some of the water, as carefully as he could so it would not further get damaged. Zelda was kneeling on the ground, picking up what remained of the pages that she could find. Volga knelt next to her, and handed her the book.
"Thank you," she said sadly. "I don't think there's… much left of it that I can save. With all these missing or torn pages, and water stains on the text. It was the last copy in my library too. I suppose I'll have to order more, but that'll take a long time to arrive."
This only made the other human more detestable. The book had meant something to her. Volga glanced at the cover, and the waterlogged title. "Wait," he said suddenly. "Is that Hylian Fables: The Untold?" he paused. "Book Two?"
"Yes," said Zelda in surprise. "You've read it?"
"Several times," Volga chortled. "One of the books we read together as children, was written by the same author. Frankly… most of the books we read together, I ended up reading more content from the same authors. You know she's planning to write a Book Three as well?"
Zelda gasped. "Goodness, is she really? I knew it felt like she had more in store for us on chapter fourteen! Now I'm definitely going to have to order another copy of this book so I don't fall too far behind!"
"You can have my copy," he offered. "Next time I go to the Eldin Caves, I'll bring it from my shelf."
"R-really?" Zelda looked positively thrilled. "Oh, Volga, you don't have to trouble yourself. If… if you're certain, I'll give it back as soon as I'm done!" she appeared at loss for words from pure, childish, delight. Volga found her display irresistibly adorable. "Thank you so much!"
She flung her arms around him in a jovial embrace, and in that moment, all his anger and bitterness melted away. His cheeks were still warm from earlier, but now they were warm for a very different reason. He lost all train of thought, and it took him a few seconds, before his arms encircled her back. He knew they would inevitably have to pull away, but he wanted to cherish this moment, for as long as she wished to give him.
"Did you see the look on his face when you showed up?" she asked, looking up at him from his arms. "He was terrified of you."
"I saw a well deserved book smack to his nose and teeth," the Dragon Knight gloated. "The human defeats a bear, then gets destroyed by Hylian Fables: The Untold. If anything, I believe I saved him from you, rather than the other way around."
They both laughed, their shared mirth echoing in her garden. How was it possible that he had been so worked up awhile ago, and was now laughing in their triumph? What logic was there to be found in his already befuddled thoughts and feelings?
Zelda's birthday would be very soon, and he still didn't know what to give her. What could he give to someone he had treasured so dearly? She had a found a place that he could belong when such a notion seemed almost impossible before he first met her. She had created a world for him. And now he wanted to give her the world.
"You have a weakness for magic."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Magic," Impa repeated, directing a massive orb seemingly made of compressed water toward a row of training dummies. Like an invisible whirlpool manifesting itself into the orb, the training dummies were sucked out of the ground, and knocked into the air. They hovered within the orb for a moment, as Impa made a sliding, half-circle motion with her giant blade. The orb then burst into water, sending the training dummies flying back toward the ground.
Volga had been practicing his aerial juggling with his spear, trying to maintain one of the training dummies in the air for as long as he could. The sackcloth figure finally fell at his feet, when he surveyed Impa. "Care to elaborate?" he asked.
The Sheikah bent down to pick up her training dummies, and began to rearrange them. "You don't know how to react to offensive spells," she said mildly. "Not in the way you react to physical combat. It's not natural to you."
Impa of course, failed to understand one of the reasons he was performing slightly clumsy. Zelda had been watching them train today, sitting on the risers that looked to be intended for an arena. She wore a white, chiffon dress, and a matching fedora, a charming outfit to relish on the last days of warmth before the season would be over. Occasionally when Impa wasn't looking, so as not to raise suspicions, she would steal him a smile. To say she was distracting was an understatement.
"I…" Volga began, trying to deviate his thoughts from what had obviously caught his attention. "I know how to react to a weapon being swung at my face, because I know it won't often cheat nature or defy physics. I try to treat magic like how I would react to arrows, but it's not always so black and white. An arrow can fly straight to its intended path, whereas magic can curve, or travel just as slowly as it can strike you in a flash of lighting. That's not even accounting for all of its other effects that don't focus on elemental damage. I'm not weak to it. Magic is just… unpredictable."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not criticizing you, per say, you prideful warrior. It's just an observation. If you ever have to face a powerful wizard in battle someday, you will struggle. And unfortunately, developing magical resistance is not something so simple to attain. Just like a weapon, it can take years to master. And some people are just more naturally inclined to the craft than others."
At the mention of 'wizard', Volga was reminded of the story Eveline had revealed to him. Could Impa have been making some subconscious comparison to that?
Two soldiers, and the castle's librarian, suddenly made an appearance on the training field, rushing toward Zelda, and waving to get Impa's attention. The princess stood up and stepped down the risers. Impa and Volga followed, joining the gathering.
"Your Majesty," said one of the soldiers, carrying what looked like a flat, rectangular object with a heavy cloth wrapped around it. "You won't believe what we found."
The other soldier made a salute. "As requested, we've been expanding our search for Duncan. We ventured deep into the Faron Woods, and passed by the sorceress's manor. You know, we're normally not supposed to be there, but the king wanted a letter delivered to her by someone from our court, so that we could confirm the arrival."
"And?" Impa asked, eyeing the clothed object suspiciously.
"We were able to get through one of the gates there," he said nervously. "I don't know if it was the impending fog, or the broken down pillars, but something about that place looked haunted. There were these… thorns surrounding the place too, and I swear I thought we were going to be trapped there. We knocked on the door, but there was no answer. And we found this propped against the exterior wall."
For whatever reason, the librarian looked ecstatic when she spoke up. "When I saw them bring this here, I told them it was theft, and that we should return it. And we will return it, of course," she said promptly. "But when I saw exactly what it was, oh Your Majesty! You must take a look!"
"Let's be out with the suspense already then," said Impa, as Zelda stepped closer to inspect the object.
The soldier unravelled the cloth. An ornate frame, gothic in nature, surrounded an oil canvas. The painting itself illustrated a young man wielding the legendary Master Sword and a shield. The shield was tilted in such a way where it was difficult to see the emblem, but Volga noticed the distinct blue and silver stripes on the side, the same colors and designs that the soldiers of Hyrule wore.
His hair was blond, barely darker than Zelda's, short bangs making two waves on his forehead, the bangs growing thinner as they reached past his pointed ears. Blue eyes appeared to be focusing on nothing, but there was a certain resolute, tiredness in them. A forest green tunic and cap was painted on his body, with such detail, that the fabric looked almost real. His gauntlets, belt, boots, and pouches all seemed to be made of brown leather. Finally, a long, blue scarf was wrapped around his neck, showcasing the symbol of the Royal Family along its edge.
What disturbed him about this painting, however, was that the clothes looked practically identical to that of the shadow assassins. Even the body structure was the same.
Volga did not know if it was recognition or something else, but something lit up in Zelda's eyes. "This," she said in wonder, tracing along the corner of the canvas. "This is a handsome painting. You can tell the artist really cared to put their time into every detail."
"I know, isn't he gorgeous?" the librarian squealed. "Princess, this has to be, undoubtably, a portrait of the Spirit of the Hero. The Master Sword, the tunic… there's no denying it. We have practically countless books telling of his heroic deeds. But it's very rare to find the texts that actually describes his connection to the Demon King and the blood of the goddess. The blood that runs in your family. Can you imagine what it would be like to be reincarnated along with your Champion, across time? It just sounds so romantic."
He felt a terrible, lunging sensation in his stomach. Zelda had meant that the… painting was handsome, not the actual human, right? He could not think properly right now.
"Handsome?" he blurted, unable to contain himself. He pointed an accusing finger at the portrait. "He looks like a girl. Angular face, and not a strand of facial hair. His body is relatively small too, even for a human."
The librarian looked scandalized. "He does not," she defended. "Are you so narcissistic that you can't bear the thought of a different, good-looking man existing? Yes, you're buff and strong, but at least he doesn't have those ugly black markings on his face."
"Siby!" said Zelda, her blue eyes flashing angrily. "That's completely uncalled for."
She gave a resigned sigh. "I apologize, Princess. And Volga." Her second sentence was more reluctant, but the affront was done anyway. It wasn't that Volga cared about what some insignificant human thought of his appearance. It was his unneeded doubts as to what Zelda did.
Being that they were so close, and him knowing what Zelda was like, he knew she would never outright insult his markings. He had not forgotten either, that she once called him breath-taking. But what had she meant by that? Did she find him alluring? Or was she simply used to seeing him as she did, because they were friends?
"In any case," said Impa, watching Volga closely, before addressing Zelda. "I find this to be far too much of a coincidence, considering the circumstances lately. For all we know, the sorceress herself might have presented this to us, as a symbol or warning. I shall have to speak to the king as well, on this manner. If all sources point to a direction, this could be what we need to start tracking him."
Zelda shook her head. "I'm not going to go around raiding everyone's homes until we find this boy. He's welcome to join our recruits if he so pleases, but I would prefer not to force the situation."
"Yes, Your Highness," one of her soldiers acknowledged. "And ah, if it's not too inconvenient for you, would you mind coming with us to the throne room? Duncan's family is there, and I feel that it would give them much encouragement to see you in person."
"Certainly," said Zelda, giving each of them a dismissive glance, and Volga had to avoid her gaze. He did not want her to see how troubled he felt right now. She already had enough to worry about, without his own complications upon her.
When everyone was gone, he was left with Impa once more. Neither said much as they moved the training dummies back to their places.
"Is it true?" Volga asked after awhile. "About the reincarnations? About Zelda?" his last question was asked much quieter than the others.
Impa was extremely careful with how she chose to answer. "The legend goes that when Hyrule's need is the greatest, the reincarnations of Hylia and her Champion would come to our aid. History has recorded many accounts of the two, but there will always be information that is inaccurate or distorted. Now if you're asking whether or not I believe our Zelda is one of such reincarnations, all I can say is that we can only wait and see. If more dangers starts to befall Hyrule, then yes, she would be reunited with the Spirit of the Hero through their bond."
Volga sulked as he picked up his weapon. "Do you really need him here?" he said bitterly, striking the training dummy in quick successions. "Am I not good enough to protect her?"
The Sheikah stopped what she was doing and gaped at him. "Well I'll be," she said in amusement. "Volga, are you jealous of him? What, are you worried he will steal all your fame and glory?"
That's not what I fear losing…
"All I'm saying," he said moodily. "Is that he won't even be needed. I can rally up my clan to join us, if it ever comes to that point. I can bring us more resources from the Eldin Caves, such as ores that can be used to forge more weapons and armor. I've done some basic forging myself. I've made shields, maces, and swords for my clan to use. I'm not as skilled as Sir Martel, but I would work hard to improve. I'm confident that I can do it, if I put my mind into anything that matters to me."
Impa was taken back by his desperation to prove himself. She did not doubt that he could do any of these things. Volga had come a long way from the little boy she had met, and even he knew this. "That is commendable of you, Volga," she said respectfully. "Things have certainly been calmer in the castle since you've stayed with us. Zelda herself is happier too. She would rarely crack a smile before."
"I want her to be happy," he said bluntly. "Impa, she deserves so much more than what those foreign, royal buffoons have to offer her. I've been observing them for days. They're not interested in her, other than lust, power, or both."
She fell silent, her eyes more expressive than usual at his words. Then she gave a heavy sigh. "Unfortunately, that is the reality of many kingdoms. Marriage is a means of gaining political power, and producing heirs to continue the cycle. I'm not saying I agree or disagree with it. It's something that just is. But you should know Zelda has better judgement than to fall to the whims of just any royal blood foreigner who wishes to court her. If she finds them unacceptable, they will not have a chance."
Of course he did. Yet it wasn't just the ones who didn't stand a chance that worried him. It was the ones that did.
"I… I suppose that's all the training for today?" he said softly.
"I suppose so."
Bidding her farewell, Volga was about to leave the training ground, when a thought suddenly struck him. "Impa, wait."
She turned around, and Volga stood before her. "You know how you have war paint on your face?"
"Yes?" she said, raising a brow.
"But you can remove it any time, right?"
"Correct," she said slowly.
"How do you remove it? By magic?"
She shook her head. "Magic can do many things, but it can't do everything. No, I use a particular ointment on my skin. Why?"
Volga fidgeted uncomfortably. He hated asking favors from others, and tried to avoid it as much as possible. "Do you… do you think it's possible to lend me some of it? Not much, just as a test. I can repay you, of course, for the inconvenience."
He thought she would refuse when she scowled. "You're not a stranger here, so don't feel like you owe us anything. I can certainly lend you the ointment. But… do you intend to try and remove your markings? I don't think it would work."
"Yes," he said quietly. "Thank you. But I would like to try."
There used to be a time when Zelda's birthdays meant something to her. When the sight of colored balloons and confetti used to be exciting. When the trays of her favorite, assorted sweets would decorate the tables. When there would be stacks of gifts, containing everything a little girl could ever want - when all she looked forward to was a promise her father would give her. A promise to allow her to visit Hyrule Field.
A promise he had made every year, but one that was never fulfilled. He would always change his mind, or make up an excuse. Zelda had eventually stopped looking forward to those promises, and he eventually stopped making them. For many years, her birthdays had become, for the most part, just another normal day.
Yet something felt different today, and she wasn't certain why. She supposed her coming of age might have been a part of it, but she knew that Impa and her father would still try and regulate her life, as they had always done. But perhaps to lesser degree, she thought hopefully. Yes. That would be nice.
"You look marvelous!" Eveline beamed. The tailor had worked especially hard in the past few days to present Zelda with her battle raiment, a gift for her birthday. She stated that the raiment was not officially done, because it still needed the armor pieces for her shoulder pads, gauntlets, chest and hip plates, and boots. But the raiment even without the armor, could still be used as a dress.
Zelda looked at her reflection from the full body mirror in Eveline's shop. Her bodice was mauve and velvet, hugging her chest in such a way that further defined her body, something that Eveline had undoubtably intended. Her shoulders felt bare without the eventual armor pieces, but she did not feel uncomfortable, just a little cold. Delicate sleeves wove around her upper arms, the small flaps mimicking flower petals.
Her dress skirt was divided into two slits, with a front fold in the middle that contained the embroidery of the Royal Family crest, detailed in a regal purple and gold. Since she didn't have her armored boots yet, she wore a pair of cashmere boots that gave her a slight height, and reached just below her knees.
"The little… skirt underneath it still feels a bit short," Zelda admitted. "But you've done a superb job, Eveline."
"Of course I have," she said proudly. "And when it's fully finished, I'll be adding those opal blue droplets as decorations, to match your earrings. Did you like the floral pattern I designed on the hem of the skirt, or was it too much?"
Zelda gave her a grateful nod. "I thought it was a nice touch, and I especially love the silk that you used for the skirt. It's so soft, and feels comfortable enough even to sleep in."
"I would weave the finest silk for you, Your Highness," said Eveline, giving her a bow. "And once I have more time, I'll be making other colors of this raiment. Perhaps a blue one next, to match your eyes."
They chattered on for a few minutes, about fashionable wears, and then began talking about men. "I know some of the ones you've come across are unbearable," said Eveline dramatically. "But not all of them are so bad. My husband and I have spoken with several fine suitors in the great hall the other day. Sure, they don't all have a history with swordsmanship, or the silver tongues to make beneficial investments. But they seemed like decent noblemen."
Zelda placed her tiara on her head, and looked around the room, noticing the male mannequin of where Volga's armor in progress had been. It wasn't that she wasn't listening, it was simply that she… didn't hold any particular interest for any of the foreign royals. "Volga's armor is already finished?" the blonde asked in surprise, noticing the empty mannequin.
"Hm?" Eveline piped up. "Oh no, dear. There's still some work to do on his armor. But it's in a similar state to yours… wearable as clothing for the moment. All that's left is for my husband to finish the helmet and refining the red ore so that it can be melded into armor. As a replacement, he has this handsome, maroon vest which I've specifically designed to reassemble itself between his transformations. This will apply for all his clothing and armor, so that the fabric won't tear apart. And if he likes it, we can make more outfits for him, not just armor."
The princess looked at her in amazement. "Wow Eveline, that's incredible. I'm sure he will appreciate that."
Reveling in the praise, Eveline waved her hand. "It's nothing I can't handle. The long, black sleeved shirt and slacks I made for him are thermal, and they'll be under his armor. It's thin enough to keep him cool, but it can also handle extreme heat. If he finds himself in need of unleashing fire, the enchantment should help him store as much as he wishes without worrying about burning the cloth. Of course, this will still need some testing from his part, but I'm about ninety percent certain it should work."
Before Zelda could reply, Eveline gasped. "That reminds me!" she said suddenly, pulling something out of her pocket. "When Volga came by earlier to pick up the outfit, he asked me to give you this."
She handed Zelda a small, folded piece of parchment. "I would like to apologize though. My curiosity got the better out of me and I… erm… sort of read it. But don't worry," she said, laughing at Zelda's leer. "I have no idea what it's about, so he might have expected me to read it anyway."
Zelda unfolded the note, still slightly annoyed with her nosiness. It read:
Happy birthday, Princess. I just wanted you to know that I'll be on flight for a few hours to take care of something. Would you please meet me at our usual place this afternoon, at your convenience? Bring a bowl filled with water too, if possible.
- Volga
"A bowl filled with water?" Zelda repeated, confused. "Is he bringing a fish or something?"
Eveline looked overjoyed that Zelda was talking to her about it, and she spoke in a hushed tone, like a gossiping school girl. "I asked him if he planned to get you a gift for your birthday. Oh, my goodness, and do you know what he said?"
"But I told him he didn't have to get me anything," said Zelda, with a sigh. Unable to help herself however, she too, dropped in a low voice. "What did he say?"
"He said, and I quote 'I want to make her the happiest woman in Hyrule today." Eveline gave Zelda a devious stare. "He looked so confident when he said that, but he seemed a little nervous too. Sad, even."
Zelda could feel her heart waver. She knew that as soon as she would step out of this workshop, she and Eveline would be heading to the dining hall for the yearly grand feast that was in lieu of her birthday. There would be drinks and dances, and gifts she would have to thank people for. She would have to socialize for several hours, something she could not concentrate on doing right now.
"Eveline," she pleaded. "Help me get through the grand feast."
And so Eveline did.
The tailor had taken a seat at her side on a table that was so long, that it took the entire wall. Everyone who lived or worked in the castle was seated, including Impa, her father, the soldiers, even some of the servants. Some because most, such as the cooks, were busy making more food. The king had kindly offered for her cooks to take a break and join them. This act was met with scrunched faces of disapproval from the foreign royals, but of course, they did not dare contest their thoughts against the king.
There was a rather polite man who had been sitting across Zelda, trying to engage in a conversation, but not in a persistent manner. The princess would have felt a little more guilty at her lack of interest in trying to keep the people entertained, if her mind wasn't invested in something already.
Eveline had carried the general conversations for her when Zelda could not. She handled the tedious interrogations, the gossips, the political banters about expanding their kingdom, but the topic she clearly enjoyed was whenever people would compliment Zelda's battle raiment, just so that she could have the satisfaction of saying, yes, I was the one who made it, and yes, I know I'm damn good at it.
One of their chefs had taken a seat nearby, having removed his apron and dressed up a bit more for the occasion. He gave Zelda a grin; he had caught her sneaking a jar of cookies from the kitchen when she was little, and she had told him it was for her dolls. He had teased her about it ever since. "Happy birthday, Your Highness. Don't forget to take some cake for the dolls."
She gave a small smile, and he scratched his chin. "Say, where is that dragon friend of yours?" he asked curiously, the first subject of conversation that had finally caught her attention. "I know how much he loves to eat, so I had prepared all this extra food. Or does he have favorites?"
Zelda glanced around at the food on the table. She had barely touched her own plate, and was only now noticing the food. "He'll eat almost anything, but I know his favorites. He loves steak, and doesn't care how it's prepared, though I know he's more inclined for medium rare."
The princess began to point at various platters. Finally, something that interested her in this feast. "He used to find most grains rather tasteless, but one day, I suggested that he should try sprinkling some spices and curry on his rice. He's enjoyed it ever since." She pointed at her cake. "He'll deny it, but he has a thing for sweets. I still remember that look of wonder and confusion on his face when I first gave him a pastry."
Lost in her nostalgia, she tapped her chalice of wine with her finger. "Oh and he doesn't mind wine, but is a bit like me and prefers it for special occasions. He says fire and alcohol is a hilariously terrifying mix in his throat sometimes."
Zelda was thankful that she had seated herself far away from Impa and her father, because the nobles near her, who had heard her speak, were gaping at her. Eveline giggled. "Ah the detailed observations of a young mind," said the tailor dreamily. "This reminds me of the time when I first met my husband…"
And again, Eveline was there to distract them from the awkwardness or silence. She had, for the most part, managed to keep them from constantly flooding the princess with chatter. She had helped with the exchanging of gifts after the feast, helped Zelda find out who gave her what, so that she could thank them. This part, at least, Zelda could manage. Saying two words now and then and forcing a smile was easier than trying to indulge in conversation.
By late in the afternoon, Zelda was finally able to graciously excuse herself from the party.
The clear, gel-like substance from the ointment trailed down his skin like transparent tears. He had applied it, precisely as the instructions had been written. He had waited to see if it was simply a matter of time to take effect, but as the day kept moving forward, nothing had happened. Not even the slightest trace of fading. Even when he rubbed his thumb vigorously against his cheeks, enough to leave a very subtle smudge of pink, irritating the skin there - the black markings would always be there, taunting at his reflection.
It had not helped his frustration, when he had come across that same painting of the Spirit of the Hero in Eveline's workshop earlier when he had gone there to retrieve the prototype for his armor suit. She had explained that they planned to return the portrait, but that she was asked to sketch and color a copy. Not for the means of selling, but so that she would have the designs ready at her disposal, if the day she would need to create the attire for the Spirit of the Hero, ever came to be.
With a disheartened sigh, he closed the lid, and took the gift that had been on his dresser. The gift he had spent most of his time searching for, having flown over the lands, and exploring each region. And this was only a small treasure in comparison to what he wanted to give her.
When he left the room, he took off toward the sky once more, his mind not really focused on the multiple paths and towers that would have felt like a labyrinth to anyone new to the grandeur of the castle. He had been so used to guarding the exterior of Zelda's court yard by now, that it had become instinctive for him to find his way through. And more specifically, their place at the balcony and tree.
Their place.
Volga drew the pendent branches to the side, the willow's leaves seemingly welcoming him, as he took his favorite spot that connected the branch nearest to the balcony, to the tree's trunk. Ever since he first heard Zelda play her harp, he had been enthralled by the sight. He'd often imagine what it would be like to lay with her here upon this branch, holding her in his arms as she'd play the melodious sounds underneath their little veil of leaves.
Or how he'd sometimes find her sitting in the library, studying or reviewing documents. Her hair, which was something that had always fascinated him since he was young, would occasionally be bound so tightly by her hair ornaments, that he'd find himself wanting to undo them. To stroke her hair soothingly between his fingers. To gently tilt her face toward him and close the gap between their lips, the gap that stood between them for so long.
Goddesses, what am I going to do? he thought miserably, burying his head in his hands. How could he tell her of these affectionate urges, when the implications would conflict with her eventual title as queen? That wasn't even taking into account whether or not she felt the same way about him. While he couldn't see her harshly putting an end to their friendship right away, he knew that things would never be the same anymore.
He heard the creak from her bedroom door and exhaled a shaky breath. He lowered his hands from his head… he needed to recollect himself. Using his wings to propel himself toward her balcony, he folded his arms on the surface of the balcony railing, showing enough of him for her to notice, but not in a way meant to alarm her.
Volga saw her silhouette, placing a bowl filled with water on her night stand. He could see the colors from her dress dancing in a blur, as she then opened the glass doors. Since he had gone by the workshop earlier, he had already taken a glimpse at the progress of her raiment, but when she appeared before him, he was at loss for words.
There was always a distinct beauty and elegance in which she held herself, and not just appearance. Her mannerisms, such as the way she would tilt her head, when she was confused about something, or deep in thought. Or how the ends of her hair would comically stick out when she put it up in a disarranged bob or pony tail - particularly when she was feeling lazy or tired, and didn't have to interact with anyone in public for the rest of the day.
Just being around her again was intoxicating, and right now he had to derail his train of thought at the sight of her fair skin along her shoulders, at the bodice that embraced her petite, but voluptuous figure. His eyes met hers, and he saw that she appeared keen, if not slightly skittish, to see him. He truly hoped not to make her nervous, when he himself could barely keep all his thoughts in place. Especially with the way she was looking at him now.
What if I told you…
"Those clothes Eveline made look rather fetching on you," she complimented. "Have they been working out for you between your transformations?"
Volga became instantly aware of his own attire. The black sleeves of his shirt had been rolled to his elbows, and the maroon vest and dark slacks had been suitable, both in comfort, and practicality, between his forms. He subconsciously straightened his collar, as if under the illusion that such an act would make him seem more appealing to the woman before him, her compliment giving him a little flair of hope.
"Thank… thank you, Princess. Yes, they've certainly have," he responded, as she gestured for him to step onto her balcony, perhaps trying to be considerate. It wasn't often that he did walk on her balcony, and he'd never do it without her permission. Even though he had a feeling that she didn't seem to mind him there, he did not want to seem improper.
He suddenly realized that when he had opened his mouth to speak, the stem of a flower moved between his lips. This flower… the gift he had brought her, which he intended to hand it to her, had been carefully propped between his upper and lower teeth so that he would not accidentally bite through. He had been in his dragon form for so long today when he had been flying, that it had escaped his mind, and he felt like a complete clod.
"This is for you. I hadn't meant for it to -" Volga dipped his head, embarrassed.
I want to give you everything your heart desires…
He seemed so formal. Too formal, even. Aside from him being finely dressed, she could tell by how he spoke. There was a difference in the ways he would address her, not just her name, but her title. He would say 'Princess' in the public scenario to be courteous. But he would also use it privately between them, either to humor her, or as a manner of endearment.
Zelda had been around him enough to notice that when he was being especially formal, it generally meant that he was anxious, or worried. He would often try to hide this with a face of dignity, his voice smoother than usual, and an occasional smirk so as not to deter others from seeing him as someone with confidence. But his eyes always betrayed his masks, and since most were afraid to look at them, they could not see him in the way she did.
Volga could be very blunt when he wanted to, but he could also be tactfully evasive when something was troubling him. And something was troubling him. Especially lately when she would see him, he would seem so lost in thought, almost reclusive. She had asked him a few times, if he was alright, but he would simply give her a polite smile. Zelda knew polite smiles all too well.
But right now it seemed, that he was making an effort to be more open, but doing so was making him uneasy. Zelda was not at all bothered by him presenting her gift in the way that he did. Truthfully, she was touched by this gesture, and she wanted him to know that.
"That's sweet of you," she whispered, taking the flower from his mouth.
It wasn't just any flower, and certainly not one she had ever seen in her garden. The petals were a delicate shade of periwinkle, with a creative blue pattern along the tips. A pleasant, citrus aroma welcomed her as she took a curious sniff.
"Try putting all of it in the water," he suggested. "Don't worry, it's their habitat."
Now it made sense why Volga had mentioned it on the note. It was an aquatic plant, and… unnatural at that. For when she placed it in the water, the petals lit up. They emitted a soft, blue glow inside the bowl, like an enchanted night lamp. It shimmered faintly along the walls, radiating the room in a calm light.
"How…" she said in astonishment.
"They're called Nayru's Grace," he murmured. "They can only be found in the banks of Lake Hylia. It was said that the Zoras of long ago had scattered their seeds in the water before departing. The glowing seeds reflects wisdom and love." His voice faltered for a moment, and he looked away, as if fearing he had said something taboo. Or perhaps he was uncertain that she would not like the gift.
Zelda had seen the many luxuries of her castle life, had fantasized about what the world looked like, both hers and fiction - far more times than she could count. "In all my years, I've never seen anything more precious," she said in awe. "Volga, I didn't know that such a beauty existed."
She drew close to him, instinctively taking his hand, an action she had done several times to him to express gratitude and happiness. Volga looked at her, a forlorn longing in his eyes as he lifted their combined hands to his lips, his warm breath caressing her skin. He held it there for a few seconds, almost in a silent prayer that she would not pull away, that she would not be frightened.
"It does, Princess," he said wistfully. "There is a world out there, of lush fields and deep forests. Of lava and ash, and of mountains that stretch as far as the eye can see. Of hot sands in the day, and cool sands in the night. Of tranquil waters, and ethereal glows, like that of this flower."
He knelt before her, gently guiding her to climb on his back.
"A world I would like to show you."