Chapter 19: Sacrifice
Magnificent arch ways framed the circular room of the grandeur that embodied Hylia's Grand Theater. Murals of the winged goddesses stretched across the domed ceiling, painted with skies of pastel blue and gold. Enchanted lights radiated from the pristine glass crystals that hung from a resplendent chandelier, and Prince Zeran gestured at them.
"Those lights are bewitched with the elements to produce colorized effects with the timing of the events in the play," the royal mage explained to Zelda. "This is to augment the immersion of the story. Today, my performers will be most pleased to entertain you with the events that had occurred in the Era of the Sky. We'll be showcasing its fictional wonder, but to the best of our knowledge to honor your kingdom's history."
Zelda nodded courteously as she followed him up the stairs, with Volga behind them. The entirety of the trip that led from the castle, to the carriage, and the short walk in town, before finally into the foyer of the theater - had been a cluster of dread and anxiety. The princess had been silently praying for the next hour of the clock to be one step closer to being done for the day.
So far, Prince Zeran was… not as unbearable as the bear-slayer, but he had a certain devious flair about him that was as mysterious as it was disconcerting.
"Ah, the show is about to commence," he clapped his hand once theatrically, and led them up the remaining steps to the royal balcony box he had reserved for the occasion. Pushing aside the navy curtains that circled the high platform, he motioned for Zelda inside. They stood at the vantage point that had the best view of the show. And there, contained only two seats.
The prince offered Zelda his hand. "Here, Your Highness. Allow me to seat you."
"I can sit myself, but thank you," she said calmly. No, no, this wouldn't do. Impa and her father expected more from her, but she didn't want to appease this royal either, nor give him any false misconceptions. Her mind raced as she tried to think of something to say, something to excuse her dismissive behavior.
"Pardon, I did not mean to offend," he said, slowly taking his seat.
"I injured my hands," said Zelda quickly. "It's why I'm wearing gloves. So you would not see the inconvenient blemishes."
This was a half-truth; Zelda had scraped her fingers a little, yes, from the repeated action of grinding flint against stone when she worked on carving her knife blade. But they were minor cuts and abrasions, nothing painful enough that would render hand holding a strain. Nothing serious that her healing ointments and bandages couldn't mend over a few days.
Not only had she worn the gloves to cover the tiny marks, but she did so as to not have skin contact with the royal. If she truly had to touch his hand at any point, at least she would be able to avoid this much.
"That's a shame," he said apologetically. Zelda wasn't sure if he was referring to her injury or the fact that they couldn't hold hands, but she stepped forth in front of her seat.
"And where is my - where is Volga to sit?" She inquired.
"Hm?" The prince frowned. "Oh right, your bodyguard." He turned to Volga, who had been holding the dragon pike and was standing so still and rigid, that he almost resembled a statue. Whatever emotion his expressive eyes would have shown was obscured with his Volvagia helmet.
Prince Zeran looked uneasy as he directed Volga to the curtain behind them. "If it's adequate for you, Dragon Knight, there should be a spot further down the stairs - it's fairly empty around there, so no one will bother you. That way you can guard and still be able to watch the play. It would give me and the princess some privacy, while having you readily available when needed."
Zelda could tell that while the prince was trying to be civil, he likely wanted to pretend her bodyguard wasn't there as much as possible.
"If that is what the princess wishes," said Volga, in a quiet falter.
No I don't, I wish you by my side.
"He… he can be where he'd like, but I want him near," she said, shifting uncomfortably from where she sat.
Volga bowed, and retreated behind the curtain. Was it for the best or worst if he couldn't see them? She did not know which would be more tolerable to him. This was a challenge that neither had been prepared to deal with, despite having known it would be inevitable.
"That's settled then," said Prince Zeran, relaxing slightly and situating himself. "At least he won't be able to hear us from here."
Oh but how very wrong he was. A dragon's hearing was more perceptive than he could imagine.
To her relief, the show opened up the main stage's curtains, and the noise broke up the awkward silence between them. Zelda decided that she would allow herself to try and be fully engaged by this play, and maybe by her doing so, it would minimize conversation or further physical advances. She did notice nonetheless, that the prince did not try to go for her hand again since she last rejected it. At least some royals still possessed integrity from time to time.
And then suddenly, her attention was captured. The musicians that had made an entrance on stage began their prelude of the "Ballad of the Goddess", and the air was filled with the classical melodies that amplified the echos of the trumpets. Each key the pianist had drawn out, and each string that was strummed - she found herself swaying her fingers lightly. Almost as if to accompany them on her invisible harp, acutely missing hers from her storage trunk.
"Your father mentioned you loved music," said Prince Zeran, taking notice of her interest. "So I brought my musicians to perform an orchestra for you to remember, and to enhance the play."
"What a spectacle," she said in amazement.
The dark-haired man smiled, and perhaps he saw this as a small victory of sorts.
The skits moved onward, and the musicians continued to play with each scene that passed, setting the mood along with the magical effects Zeran had told her about. She was seeing this now, with how the elemental lights created an illusion of weather or time of day. It was currently a soft hue of orange and yellow like a makeshift sunset. This was to match the tone revolving the actors playing the roles of the Spirit of the Hero and Hylia's mortal reincarnation.
"To think the curse that binds the wielders of the fabled Triforce originated here," the prince said in awe. "Do you reckon there will be an era where they'll ever confront Demise again? Mythically speaking, of course."
"I believe the wielder of the Triforce of Power should confront Demise," Zelda affirmed."With or without help from the other two wielders."
"So you hold the opinion that Demise and Ganondorf are not the same beings?"
"Demise is a demon ruler who had been at war with Hylia. Ganondorf was a Gerudo leader who ended up being consumed by greed, and then ultimately became a vessel for which Demise could use to keep invading Hyrule in his continuous cycle of hate. Or so the tales have implied."
"It would certainly make for an interesting turn in these legends to see them face off in a final battle that could potentially undo the cycle. Unless they really are just the same individual," said Zeran conversationally. "But what do you suppose would happen to the Spirit of the Hero and the Blood of the Goddess?"
"What about them?"
"Well, they're somewhat romanticized, aren't they? Losing that connection they've had throughout time might bring a finality to their journey together. There wouldn't be anymore stories to tell of their bond."
Zelda shrugged. "There will always be new stories to tell. And they should be able to find what bonds they desire for themselves, may it be for each other or for someone else. Not forced upon by what other people expect them to."
"I agree," said Zeran, watching her closely. "Much like what we deal with in royal obligations, especially in marriage."
She felt as if he was analyzing her, trying to figure her out. Zelda turned her attention back to the fictional Link and Zelda from the play. They were flying on their Loftwings, which appeared to be made out of mache and covered in colored parchments. And even as Zelda stared at that large, red puppet bird, she thought of Volga, and how she loved riding with him. How much she longed to be with him now.
A longing she was sure, that the prince did not need to be aware of.
She stretched out her legs dreamily, and the man shifted close. Zelda fidgeted, and whatever intention he might have had was transitioned to the seemingly harmless action of trying to communicate to her over the loud applause of the audience below.
"You are a secretive woman, Princess," said the royal mage. "I cannot read you or your desires, but I can see it's not for me that they are steered for. You retreat from my hand, turn away from me when I marvel at you… a beauty to behold you are, even with that gloomy grey you chose to wear for our date. I've seen you exhibit the most gorgeous gowns at the castle, yet those were not worn with me in mind, were they?"
They weren't, but Zelda remained silent, and the prince carried on. "Your body scrunches up when I get close. When a lady wants a man, she opens herself up to him, physically and mentally - yet your legs tighten, and your words are suppressed when a subject may become personal. I can only make reasonable assumptions from your body language. But again, I can't decipher your mind. You are masterfully elusive, and have potential in magic of concealment."
Hiding right now sounded like an enticing idea. At least this royal took the hint before she would have to go through the same, arduous process of politely declining interests with her. And each time, she had to deal with the sequence of haggling for alternative trading offers.
Sure, the kingdoms still partook in routine trades with each other, such as through food, clothing, and other general goods. But a bargain for highly expensive equipment, or the transportation of warriors trained in melee, magic, subterfuge - all of whom would be leaving their families behind in their kingdoms to serve another kingdom - did not happen without an exchange that was satisfying enough to their ruler. A trade of that magnitude, or in the numbers that made up for the labor and value of constructing destructive weapons, would not be done unless there was a war that involved them. Or through "dutiful sacrifices," as Impa would call them, pertaining to marriage or glory, like that of the jousting event.
Just when she was attempting to find a tactful proposition for this observant mage, he cleared his throat, and reclined on his chair.
"Your Highness, may I offer a proposal to you?"
Oh? She had not expected for her to be in the position of considering his bargain - if this was what he meant to convey. Zelda nodded attentively.
He wrung his hands together, and both royals stared at the jugglers, mimers, and minstrels sing and dance, impersonating Skyloft's residents. The show had reached intermission, so there were less distractions with the scenes for now. Zelda had the impression that whatever it was he had to say, he wanted to make sure there was enough rowdiness below them in case any eavesdropper was listening in.
The prince spoke again, and when he did, his voice lowered almost to a whisper, but audible enough for her to hear without having to lean in. Thankfully. "Sometimes," he muttered. "Or often times, depending on a king's luck with finding a suitable queen - when there is no affection for one another, and the marriage is forced, it can seem like an empty relationship. This is also why, in such times, adultery could occur so they could feel a semblance of relief… to feel alive again, with a partner they lust for, or love, or both."
Zelda's own hands moved this time, folding anxiously on her lap. She couldn't look at him. Her eyes were glued to the stage. He didn't take this as a sign that she was ignoring him, because he continued, as she listened quite aptly.
"I'm not… insinuating anything of course. But let us suppose, for the sake of getting my point across, that there's this woman. From the underwater side of my kingdom. As you know, my kingdom is partially above and underwater," he trailed off. "Let's say that she and I are close, but not in that way yet. Listen I… Princess. I'm telling you this, because I can see you do not wish to pursue matrimony with me. However. If I couldn't find a queen, I would want to deepen my relationship with her, privately."
Zelda was shocked that this royal, barely having known her, would reveal something as personal to her such as this. Was he truly being theoretical? Could he be testing her? She had to be careful with her words - though, so did he. His forthcomingness was baffling, but he was in an even less favorable position than she was right now. It was apparent he was aware of this too.
"I realize I'm risking myself, in me telling you this," he said, sighing. "And that I will risk myself further with what I'm about to elaborate. You're an adult, but I suspect you've not yet experienced the intimacies on a deeper level. Or perchance you have, and you cover your tracks well - which I wouldn't put past you. But. If you… if you have, or if you someday experience such a bond like I want to. Like I want to with the woman I told you about - I. We. You and me. We could make it work. You know?"
Zelda could have sworn she heard Volga stumble from the curtain behind them.
"Prince Zeran," she said guardedly "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"
He nodded. "If we were married, we could have a private agreement. We would live as companions, and permit each other to… go see our consorts when the times are suitable. So I would get to be with mine, and you would go off to be with yours. A sacrifice on their behalf, for the chance to be with us. Of course, you and I would still have to make an appearance together in public, put up a front, and eventually produce an heir. But that can wait, until we're ready, and once we're adjusted with our situation."
Zelda felt her throat go dry. She wasn't sure of what to say. Her first instinct was to tell him he was a horrible man. How could he live a life like that, with this woman he supposedly cares for? Being together in secret, then to bed the queen when it was time to have a child? Zelda wasn't some… property to be shared! Besides, she couldn't envision doing something like that to Volga, and she was certain he would be just as miserable.
"I must imagine what you think of me," said the royal ruefully. "But reality isn't always so fairy tale as we would like it to be. Princess, understand this. No other foreign royal here, as far as I know, would offer this to you. They would want you theirs, and theirs alone. Realize this is an option. I would not force you to be my queen."
The crowd suddenly cheered and began to clap, as the curtains from the play were coming to a close.
"I'm rather parched," said Zelda distantly, hoping to find a way to excuse herself, and get some fresh air.
"Allow me to bring you a drink, Your Highness." Zeran stood up from his seat. "I could use one myself, so I'll fetch for the both of us."
When he disappeared, Zelda slipped past the curtains, and went to find Volga. He was standing there, his back propped against one of the massive columns that supported the royal balcony box. Upon seeing her, his grip on his weapon loosened, and he set it aside, lowering his defenses.
Something came over him, and he moved forth, gently clasping her shoulders. From this close, she could see the conflicted opposition in his eyes. She had no doubt in her mind that he had heard the prince's proposition.
"Zelda." there was concern and passion in his growl, a feral drive to express what his thoughts could not yet be put into words.
His lips found hers, drawing her into his arms and sharing an urgency that, whether it was from the rush due to the limited time they would have - she did not claim the inclination to resist. Quite the opposite, her primal needs were awakened, and with them, a growing defiance to keep fighting through the obstacles that they kept facing. She was bringing her arms around the back of his neck, and parting her lips, to meet his tongue.
Despite their fervency, he took consideration to tilt his head, so as to not bump her face with the front ridge of his helm. Though if it had brushed prior, she had paid it no notice. They welcomed each other to the sensual contact between the warmth of their mouths. The tentative poke within heightened the sensation, magnifying like the vibration of a chime. She lightly swirled at the tip, and felt his breathing reverberate the deep chords of his gasp.
Electrifying, yet molten, with the luscious melding of the kiss and of their bodies sending a tide of heat to her core. She weaved a leg behind him, wanting to be closer, eliciting tremors of pleasure from the both of them. Her fingers grasped a handful of the curtains around them tightly, within the brief seclusion it provided.
Waves, fire, sparks… how could any elemental magic or ones from that show, compare to this?
If there was a wall or column behind her back, she couldn't recall - if his helmet had been removed at any point, he couldn't remember. They could only feel the rhythm of heart and body, holding onto each other, acknowledging their desires, but recognizing restraint.
Because even lost in rapture, Volga instinctively slowed down, his hand that had been between her hip and thigh, that had struggled to restrict himself, rose up. He cupped the side of her neck, his breathing steadying, and caressing over flushed skin, like his thumb on her cheek. His eyes held longing, self-control, and an openness that, in all its fragility, did not fear showing her affection, much to her reciprocated delight. Somehow, this made him seem all the stronger.
Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the symphony of "The Goddess Sword". In her ardent haze, she withdrew in alarm. "Volga, we'll be seen!" She said breathlessly.
"I know, I d-don't know what came over me," he stammered. "I'm sorry -"
She placed a finger on his lips. "I want to," she said throatily. "But not here. He's going to be back at any minute, and who knows if someone from the audience or an employee is near."
Sure enough, by the time the prince had returned, Zelda had swiftly made her way back to her seat. The goddesses had been merciful on them, but she wasn't sure they would be so lucky again. Her fingers drummed impatiently on the arm of the chair, but it was really to settle down the butterflies in her stomach. She took the drink he brought her, exchanged pleasantries, and grabbed her purse. It was time to leave, finally, and she would maintain her facade so that he would not have any suspicions, especially about what had just transpired.
"Thank you for joining me today, Princess," Zeran said eloquently, taking a sip from his glass. "And do please consider my offer. Remember we can practice putting up an appearance together any time." He motioned his hand at her. " Shall we?"
That had been too close. What had he been thinking? He could have placed his and Zelda's statuses in complete jeopardy, yet in that moment all thoughts of hiding had been banished away. A part of him had almost wished Prince Zeran had seen them, to have him see that they were together, and that they weren't merely tools to be manipulated to suit his whims. An impulse to roar into the sky and let the world know how proud and humbled he was, to be with the princess. No more secrecy, no more holding back… only freedom. To let them be.
But as overzealous as he had been, a pressing apprehension gripped him in a manner that he could not discern yet. After his disregard of rationality had passed, reality was starting to sink in again. What if they had been caught? Surely, he could have waited until they were safe in private. He was disappointed with himself, to warrant his thoughts to govern such reckless behavior.
Most of his clan members would have interpreted his actions in a way akin to how when reptilians and other animals assert their dominance to males that were interested in the female. That, like how with his jousting decision, was to prove themselves through fighting and competition. They would have told him that what he had done in the theatre was a means of challenging the prince. And they would have teased him that this particular kiss with the princess was because of his initiation to mate, and that she wanted to because she was in heat.
Animalistic urges could be simpler to apply in some ways, but so could that of man. To him, there was something deeper. A determination with purpose, but with vulnerability. A passion for intimacy, but with patience. He was not sure they would be able to comprehend what he was experiencing, because to them, love was defined as duty. Nothing more, nothing less.
He still valued duty of course, but it was only a layer of many. It honored a family goal, but did not necessarily direct him on the path to get there. It did not pose a solution amidst a spiral of difficulties.
Volga needed a human's take on the situation, ones he and Zelda could trust to discuss with. Their minds had been too overwhelmed to make sudden decisions that they would eventually have to figure out for themselves. But for now, they appreciated having more insight.
Similarly to how Zelda was growing more comfortable around his clan, Volga was grateful for the company of the tailor and smith. Not only was their shop another place he and Zelda could be themselves in, but one they could unwind and communicate with people who genuinely meant them well.
"Good one, Volga," Martel gave him a thumb's up, before hoisting a stack of ingots that he had refined. "Show that prince who's king."
Eveline smacked her husband lightly-but-not-too-lightly on the arm. "Martel! They could have been in serious trouble!"
He cleared his throat. "I mean, that was very irresponsible of you two, absolutely no enjoyment allowed," he joked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit in lieu of the heavy topics they were going to go over. "But anyway, they're fine, and it's not like Volga pushed the prince off the royal box or anything."
The tailor brought bowls of beef stew to the tea table that Volga and Zelda assisted with setting. They sat on the divan as Martel filled mugs of apple cider for everyone from the barrel that had been encased in a frost enchantment. The drink was refreshing and crisp.
"In all seriousness," Eveline wagged a finger at them. "You both should really be more diligent next time. And be attentive of this prince. We don't know with certainty if he's being honest with his offer, or trying to bait Zelda to tell him her secret about you two."
Zelda shook her head. "Even if he is being honest, it's not a life I would wish to live, or to put Volga through."
A consort.
That's what the prince had called it, right? Yes. Volga had remembered reading about this word, in the royal books. Though when it was brought up, it was deemed as immoral and forbidden. Like a married nobleman with a mistress.
It was strange - in some ways, the humans could be like the more polygamous clans he's known. It wasn't abnormal for the male or female to have multiple mates, though it was less common among his own clan. The reptilians weren't as secretive about it as with the case of a royal and consort, and the circumstances could vary, but the idea of more than one partner was still there.
An idea that did not sit well in his conscious.
"It's not much different than what you two are doing now though, is it?" Eveline challenged. "Think about it. Residing in the castle performing duties, sneaking off to be together in private, and then repeat. Obviously the part about needing to produce an heir with the prince is more precarious, but everything else is like a preview in progress."
Zelda eyed her in disbelief. "What, are you saying I should actually take up on his offer?"
Eveline waved a hand dismissively, her bracelets sliding down her arm as she did so. "It's not one I would choose, but it would give you both the best chance at keeping what you're doing already. You should consider too, if this is what you want to keep doing. Living in secrecy can get taxing. At the very least, try to find ways to make it easier on you two. Volga, do not hesitate to turn down Impa's request if she asks you keep watch during Zelda's dates. You don't have to deal with it."
Volga swirled the spoon in his soup. "I'm capable of getting through it," he mumbled. "Besides, I offered to, when the king expressed concerns he had regarding the foreign royals. It's not that I can't handle it. How do I explain this? It's just a bit infuriating at times, that the royals are so fortuitous to be able to walk down the castle halls or streets in town, and hold her hand anywhere they please, if she wanted them to. That they can take her to these luxurious theaters and mystify her with an amazing orchestra. That they can court her, like I want to court her. Like she deserves to be - whereas all I can do is offer her a trip to the caves."
Zelda rounded on him, her blue eyes intense with something between a glare and fierce empathy.
"Oh oh, we should give them a moment to sort out their squabble, dear," Martel suggested to Eveline, who nodded, and began to take a few dishes away to give them a little privacy.
"Now look here, Dragon Knight," she said hotly. "I've spent many days counting down until when I would be able to visit Eldin. Looking forward to hunting, and spending time with your clan. Eager to be in your home, especially with you, and finding ways to add my own decorative touches. That you've encouraged me to, because each time I brought new plants, or bed covers, or kitchen mats to brighten up your place - it filled me with joy to see your eyes light up. And I would already be wanting to bring more to see that again."
She gave a furious huff. "So don't give me this nonsense about it being just any cave. You've truly made me feel safe, warm, and at home there. And besides. He took me to a theatre, you take me around the world."
Volga met her fiery gaze, and felt her words tame his resentment, not in a way to contain him, but to free something within. From the both of them. Because even though they were angry, there was a trust there, in that they could open themselves to each other - whether more inclined to be composed or slightly less so at times. Respecting and alleviating what they had wanted to let out. What she had said filled him with hope, that it had meant this to her.
"Do you know what I kept thinking of in that royal box?" She asked, inching close to him from where they sat. "How much I wanted to do this." Leaning over, she rested her head on his shoulder, and hugged his arm."And just. Watch the show with you like that."
"Me too," he said yearningly, taking her willing hand, and sliding his warm fingers under her glove. "It was immature of me to kiss you behind that curtain with such a high risk of getting caught - I will be better than that."
"I enjoyed it," she breathed, awestruck by how such a gesture felt simultaneously intense and soothing from his touch. "But you might have to be the one to hold me back next time if we're in tricky circumstances," she whispered into his ear.
Only Zelda could make such a statement sound so innocently seductive. Could kindle palpitations from his heart faster than the strumming of a harp, just as easily as she could tame a raging storm. His skin felt hot and flustered, and his hormones were in a disarray - but the tenderness in which he rested his head on hers was not reflective of an animal or human that acted upon the need for immediate lustful gratification.
His fingers traced between hers within the partially removed glove, and with care, along the little bandages wrapped around her thumb and index finger. She clasped their hands reassuringly, and snuggled her head on his shoulder. Relaxing, Volga brought his other arm around her back and shoulder, leaning together with her.
The two sat like that for awhile, side by side, listening to the jet of water from the kitchen sink, and the occasional clang of dishes being put away. When Eveline returned, she brought back plated slices of pumpkin pie. Volga and Zelda had still been working on their soup, but they were pleased to accept.
"You know," said the tailor pensively. "I had a thought. Prince Zeran said his offer was an option. This means we have other options, no?"
"There is one," said Zelda faintly.
"What?"
"Running away."
Eveline and Martel exchanged a look, but that held a familiarity. "Princess…" she started.
"What? That's what you two did. And it worked out, didn't it?" Zelda reached for her drink.
"You did?" Volga asked them, wanting to know more, but unable to shake off an uneasiness from the idea.
"Mhm," Martel gulped the cider from his mug. "Eveline is a noblewoman, and I was born into a poor family. I took interest in smithing to improve my life, and my unique ability with melding and refining ores was starting to get noticed by the higher classes. We eventually met, and grew close. But it… ahem, wasn't an easy task to visit her. I suppose you could say it's one of the reasons we can sympathize with your situation. Her mother was quite against our relationship."
"My mother was a vile woman," said Eveline darkly. "Of course she wanted me to marry some nobleman, and choose my life for me. Well. One day I had enough. I packed my bags and ran away with Martel. We were young and carefree, but we had hopes and dreams we wanted to accomplish together. Sadly, it did tear us away from our families."
"Did you ever regret that?" Zelda's voice was sympathetic. "Losing contact with family?"
"Not at the time," Eveline admitted. "It took years before I realized that I missed her. Even with her defects, she was still my mother. Sometimes I wondered if me and Martel could have done something different, or put more effort into getting her to accept us. We always thought it was wishful thinking that we would all move on past this and speak again. But with her gone, it's… too late to even try that now."
"I'm sorry, Eveline."
Martel patted his wife's back, and she attempted to sound energetic again. "It's not the perfect and ideal choice, Princess. We wouldn't want to persuade you to leave your duties behind, because even though we would want you to be happy, there will still be lingering consequences. Of course, it's much easier for a noblewoman to escape such a life than a princess. It's another option, but perhaps less difficult than the one the prince presented to you."
"I considered running away, you know," said Zelda absently. "First, when I was little. I'd written to Volga about it, even. Remember how I asked you to make me an outfit that would help hide my identity, Eveline?"
The tailor crossed her arms in her chest. "I remember. And I had told you that I would not make such an outfit while you had still been a child. Not until you were of age, and ready to take care of yourself. You… you're not asking me to make you this outfit now, are you?"
Zelda nodded. "Yes, please. The Sheikah garb's primary intention for now will be for hunting and sneaking in Eldin. But I will go over this with you later. As far as the idea of running away, it should suit its purpose too, if… if it ever came to that. Not that I plan to anytime soon."
"Please think through your options carefully," said Eveline worriedly. "These are all very difficult decisions, each with merits and drawbacks. Don't rush through them but don't corner yourselves into the worst scenario from a lack of decision either. You -"
A heavy knock resounded from the door. Startled, Eveline made her way over to answer. Zelda grudgingly lifted her head from Volga's shoulder and the two moved apart.
"Yes?" Eveline leaned her ear against the door suspiciously.
"It's Lord Torkil," came an uninvited voice from behind the door. This was the last person Volga wanted to deal with right now.
The tailor's eyes widened. "What does he want?" She whispered to them. Volga and Zelda stood up warily.
"I won't take up much of your time," he insisted. "There's an urgent request from the king."
Eveline opened the door, and the bear-slayer extended a stilted curtsy. His dark eyes darted from the tailor, to Zelda, then Volga, and focused on the pair.
"I hope I haven't interrupted anything," said Torkil, narrowing his eyes. "You all seem quite… comfortable here, enjoying supper. With the Dragon Knight, no less."
"What of it?" Eveline placed her hands on her hips, and stood next to Volga and Zelda. "He's our friend."
"Friend?" Torkil jeered. "I heard he had admirers, but befriending a dragon? Sounds disastrous to me."
"What is your business here, Lord Torkil?" Martel stood up from his seat, to join his wife.
The royal patted the bear-pelt around his neck as if he were swatting a fly. "The king wants to gather all the royals and jousting participants for a trip tomorrow at first light," said Torkil nonchalantly. "Something about a commotion at the Valley of Seers that he wants to check out. More importantly, I get to bring my weapons, to show him a fraction of the strength my kingdom has to offer. I expect the other royals will be demonstrating their own capabilities."
"And my father couldn't have sent Impa to deliver this message?" Zelda questioned. "Seems rather unusual to have you go through the trouble of coming all the way here."
"Unusual indeed, Princess," the bear-slayer quipped. "Lady Impa would have sent him the message, but… she looked so busy, and I thought out of the goodness of my heart, that I would offer to help her track down the rest who weren't notified yet. Besides, I don't think she likes your tailor much, so it worked out conveniently, I would say."
He turned to Eveline. "You have quite the eccentric place here; a workshop with equipment for blacksmithing, tailoring, and enchanting, yet also a kitchen, dining… this a home of sorts? Anyway. I hope you and your husband are enjoying your jobs at the castle. I understand you're both remarkably talented. Good day, folks." He swiveled around and left.
Volga gave a start. What was that all about? Was that a threat?
"I'll be back," he stated.
The Dragon Knight strode past crates of imported goods, and caught up to the bear-slayer. "You," Volga stopped him at a stocking area near the gatehouse. "What did you mean by that?"
Torkil took in his reproachful stance, and came to a halt. "What?" He said cooly. "A man can't voice out his well-intended wishes?"
"I don't trust you," Volga said sharply. "Whatever it is you're up to. Leave them out of this."
"Is it in your nature to be so protective?" Torkil gibed. "Or are you trying to compensate for something that you could never have? Friendship… oh please. Don't worry, I have no interest in your misguided friends. I only wanted to make sure they weren't creating some kind of specialized, unbreakable lance for you that would provide an advantage over the competitors for the jousting tournament."
Volga stared at him incredulously. "That would be cheating, Torkil. Or were you not listening to Impa's lecture when she went over the rules? For someone so intent on holding her best interests at heart, you're quite oblivious to the emphasis she made on prohibiting fraudulence."
"Of course, of course," he said compliantly. "We wouldn't want that now, would we? So no dragon powers for you during the tournament."
Somehow, Volga wasn't convinced that had been the only reason Torkil visited the workshop. Could he have overheard their conversation? Zelda had set a barrier in the shop for muffling noise like the ones she used in her room. It wasn't possible for anyone outside of the barrier to hear anything, unless they were inside the ward. Which Torkil wasn't… but it was still unsettling. Volga considered that he and Zelda would have to take any secretive conversations with the couple somewhere else for awhile. Just to be safe.
"Volga… Lord Torkil," the king of Hyrule greeted them. He was carrying three large parcels in his arms, and appeared to be in a cheerful mood. "I hope you two are ready for tomorrow, yes?"
"As ready as I will ever be," the bear-slayer said self-assuredly. "I was about to head off to check on my equipment again. My men and I should have everything all set to go for the trip."
"Excellent," the king sounded satisfied as he set the parcels on the ground for a moment to relieve his arms.
"You should really leave the heavy lifting for your working subjects, Your Majesty." The bear-slayer gave the king a regal salute, before ambling away carelessly, possibly to escape Volga's interrogation. This was fine, for Volga had nothing more to say to him at the moment other than derogatory swears that would only serve to fuel Torkil's attempts to provoke him.
When he was gone, Volga turned to the king. "Would you like help with those?" He offered, noticing the old man was getting ready to pick up the parcels from the ground again. "Zelda mentioned you had issues with your spine sometimes."
"I can do it," her father grunted, stubbornly lifting them. "Though, if you could bring those other crates, it would save me a trip back here."
Volga did, and followed him to where he wanted them dropped off. "I take it there's been a little progress trading with the other kingdoms?"
"They're mostly gear for the jousting tournament and alchemy ingredients," the king replied. "But yes, some of these were from trades too. The desert kingdom sent throwing projectiles, including a few boomerangs that they claim, would be effective should we ever face another creature like the Manhandla again. Then Prince Zeran mentioned he would dispatch a shipment of long shots from his aquatic kingdom, but you know, Volga, these royals purposely send a limited supply. They are giving us a hint of the surplus our kingdom could have, if they ruled here."
"Like their capabilities, and the equipment they're bringing tomorrow?" Volga clarified. "For when we go to the Valley of Seers?"
"Yes." He didn't go into detail yet about the mission of their upcoming trip, but Volga figured he would give more information soon enough. Whatever had happened to put the king in such a positive mood, he didn't wish to deter him from his jovial state.
They reached a hallway that contained a gallery of portraits displayed on the wall. Several boxes had already been stacked in a corner, and Zelda's father rested the contents alongside them. "Here is fine, Volga, much appreciated."
Volga obliged, and watched as the king sliced the top of a particular parcel he had set aside. "They're fishing equipment," he told the Dragon Knight, opening the box fondly. "I ordered these after the wonderful fishing trip I had with my daughter recently. Next time, I'm hoping we can fish at Lake Hylia."
Finally, there was at least one man who wouldn't drive Volga crazy about investing time with Zelda. "So you did get around to spend time with her outdoors? Good for you, Your Majesty," he smiled.
The king beamed at him. "I did, I did! And believe it or not, I actually managed to make it through the whole outing without uttering a word about foreign royals or marriages. Zelda and I were able to comfortably chat and be in peace. Why, I had no idea she was even interested in fishing! It took time for her to catch something, but when she did, she skinned and cleaned that thing out - I suspect the injuries she had treated awhile back in the medical wing helped her become less squeamish. And then!"
Volga listened, and even if he did have an idea as to why Zelda took a sudden interest in fishing, it was quite refreshing to see the king in such good spirits. He looked over a decade younger.
"And then," the king continued, storing the lures back in the crates. "She said she wanted to take the catches to the village nearby. It's a poor place, but we try to offer job opportunities to give such communities a chance to grow. Zelda asked to use their cooking pot, and cooked all the fish we caught. Seasoned the filet with spices and everything, displaying this culinary side to her that I never knew she had been curious in learning. She burnt a few, poor thing, but the rest was pleasantly filling. What made it amazing to me was to be able to share such a feast with her and the hungry residents. All from the dedication of her hard work. And I got to see this, because I had given her a chance."
"Zelda is a very capable woman," said Volga, feeling proud of her and her father. It is good to have you express interest in joining her to share the things she's passionate about, and show those sides of herself to you. I may not know a thing about parenting, but I think that's a healthy bond for a father and daughter."
"Some people, especially most royals, would see her actions, and mine, as a detriment as to what a ruler should act like," said the king, furrowing his brows, before his expression lightened. "But you understand her so well. I want to thank you, Volga. It was because of your suggestion awhile back at the tavern, that I was able to open up, and allow her to fly. And in doing so, we could both be free together. I have never been this happy in so long."
"It is welcoming to see," said Volga sincerely, as they looked up at the gallery before them.
The wall contained paintings of the ancestors of the Royal Family, honorable mentions of Sheikah warriors, and non-royal soldiers and knights for services to the kingdom. "We're making one for you too," said the king, a little more formally, indicating at the display case of medals beneath the portraits. "And an emblem for your accolade ceremony, when we officially knight you. Likely after the jousting tournament."
"It is a great honor, Your Majesty."
And how true it was. He had dedicated years to train and educate himself for this. For her, and for them.
Green eyes caught sight of an extensive family portrait of baby Zelda, being held by her mother and father. It had been the only picture of her mother on this wall - a lady with long, sunlit hair, like Zelda's, but her eyes were more of a sea-green than blue. Everything else pertaining to the current generation of the Royal Family had only been of the king and the princess.
There was a sadness in their expressions in these, no doubt, the effect of having lost their queen. "See this one here?" The king said, pointing at a painting with a carousel. Zelda looked around eight, and her smile had been distant. "I felt so hopeless trying to cheer her up that day, and many days to come. We were still mourning, and I didn't know how to handle it as a father. I was always so angry and anguished, overbearing her with duties and strict arguments within the confines of this castle, often ending with us slamming doors then suffering in stoic silence."
Volga could see it, the detachment with each picture of Zelda's childhood growing up, from her father. The years that had distanced them, somehow made the gallery more solemn.
"I think," Volga considered. "It's about time new portraits are made, wouldn't you say? Happier ones, now that you two are slowly reconciling after all these years. Maybe one of them at Lake Hylia!" His momentary enthusiasm was expressed by his confidence to help, which, when it came to the princess and the king - was not driven out of obligation, but of a willingness from within.
He continued on, uplifting the somberness of the hall. "The two of you could hold up a favorite catch, or pose in front of the lake, or anything really. There's an old man who lives in a small house there, and he paints landscapes and people. I could arrange something with him, if you'd like. For your next trip… and more to come! Let this be a fresh start."
The king's eyes brightened. "What an inspirational suggestion! I never considered adding to these walls. Except perhaps her wedding portrait someday, and paintings of grand children I hope to live long enough to spend time with."
If there was a time to be helmet-less, it was not now. He had been so deeply involved in being supportive, that for a few fleeting seconds, the comment had not immediately battered his optimism. But as he realized the meaning behind the king's words, he had not been prepared for the sharp, stabbing sensation that rippled to his stomach and chest. It was suddenly difficult to see, and to breathe.
Volga bowed his head. "I should get going, Your Majesty," he said, a calm quaver in his voice. "I'll be ready to assist you tomorrow at the Valley of Seers."
"Volga?"
He feared that if he looked at him, her father would see through him, and what he continuously failed to hide. Cowering away was a safer alternative. But Volga would not disrespect him like that. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his head, to meet the king's reflective gaze. As weak as he felt in this moment, it took all the strength he could muster to face him.
"I want you to know that we truly appreciate you," said the king softly. "And that. I welcome the idea of a fresh start. Not in the way of forgetting the past, but to learn from it, and improve the present. Perhaps in time, the future will be more clear to me. Like how I'm seeing other things that are becoming clearer to me each day."
Something in the way he had said that seemed directed at him, not in a suspicious way, but contemplative. Whatever musings were going through his mind, he was just as intent on protecting them as Volga was with his own.
When they had given their respectful farewells, Volga stood in front of the family gallery awhile longer, lost in thought.
I considered running away, you know… Zelda's voice echoed in his mind, from their conversation earlier in the workshop.
How much easier of a route that could have been for Volga, compared to the one Prince Zeran had offered. Yet despite that, something had not seemed right about it. Zelda had sensed it too, her hesitation as a child then, and her uncertainty as a young adult now.
Running away… they would be leaving her kingdom behind and likely escaping the country. All those who looked to her for guidance would be cast aside, and Hyrule's new reign after the king's time would be in dispute with the council. No doubt the kingdoms could show interest in expanding territory for their own. She would be abandoning her home, her father… when they were finally starting to mend what had been broken between them.
And Volga couldn't do that to her. To her only family. If this was something she settled for, it would have had to be out of hopeless despair, if all other options failed and they were forced to flee. He would be there for her either way, adaptive and supportive.
But while they still had choices and the ability to reason and feel, leaving was not something he would encourage, knowing in his heart how unhappy she would be. He'd sooner sacrifice his pride if it meant keeping her family and home together. Even if it meant being her consort. If that was a decision she made.
That familiar sinking apprehension from earlier tugged at him again. Volga understood now, why he felt that. Because even then, he had known. That this was the most probable direction their course would take.
Volga placed his hand on the castle's wall. Maybe some of the empty spaces on these walls could be filled with other portraits too… could someday illustrate the future his heart knew he wanted to create with her. Capturing treasured memories, and those to come. Zelda, his beloved bride, being spun by the happiest husband he'd be. And then another painting later, with their cherished little ones, dangling playfully from king grandpa's leg.
These imageries were so powerful that by the time he had registered them in his head, he was all but hanging onto that wall to steady himself. Thoughts and dreams like these were not foreign to him, but blurred. It was like trying to piece together a puzzle in the dark. And for every flicker of light that occasionally shone, it shed more clarity to what he sought. It filled him with hope. Like Zelda gave him.
Because whichever option they would choose when the time came, and whatever sacrifices they would make - their dignities might waver, but his dedication would be unshaken. He wouldn't give up on finding that special path with her, or as close to it as was realistically possible. For when she would be ready to share such a future with him, honor was only but a layer of many. Of so much more.
It was an indescribable feeling. How it could crash with every wave along its path, be tossed and battered until it would surely be no more - yet it floats. It seeks the light for purpose. It fights, but also sacrifices.
And as it drifts to the shore, the wind guides upon a sea of hope. Toward the sun's warm embrace. To where they will be home.
Author's Notes: I was uncertain if I wanted to include the poem, along with other things, when I was writing this chapter. Their moment behind the curtain too; a part of me felt it was time to start taking a bolder step in their relationship, while keeping them true to who they are - but with growth. Hopefully I have achieved this? The other part of me worried it was too suggestive for the audience who preferred things more innocent.
I think deep in, I'm glad I made my decision. But out of respect for whichever kind of reader you are, after this chapter, if there are mature scenes, they will only be displayed on Archive of our Own. And for those who prefer it non-mature, they can keep reading through on Fanfiction or Deviantart. That way, everyone can enjoy it in the way they want. Still, I would be interested in hearing your thoughts about this, or through a message if it's more suitable to you.
As for everything else; I know relationships aren't perfect and people argue. When I wrote their squabble, it was to show that while their emotions could get caught up, there was still meaningful context behind their frustration, and not just thrown in there for the sake of petty conflict. Again, I hope this came through in a believable way. Especially with how they treat each other.
I'm very doubtful of myself so I'm often deleting or rewriting scenes. And I can't promise every chapter will have the best pacing, but please bear with me. I've put so much into these. I hope you enjoyed something.