Bells ring. Birds sing. Petals fall.
Weddings have long filled themselves with flowers, and how magnificently they furnish the rafters of the Temple of Time today. For so begins the reign of the King and Queen of Hyrule.
And you, Urbosa. How unshakably you stand at the mouth of the Goddess' Gate. Do not now surrender to your longing, do not follow the thundering in your breast. Today is for your dearest Minerva and you shall suffer nothing less than perfection, even as it heats the hurt in your chest.
The beautiful bride asked that you play the part of Goddess' Maid, and you have performed each of your holy duties to the letter. You led your dear Minerva to the front of the temple, to where her betrothed, Rhoam, reverently awaited her. You carried her sacred instrument, a lyre of shimmering silver, to the altar of the Goddess Hylia, where you knelt deep and offered it into her hands. You held your eyes low as blessings and prayers were said. Prayers that Minerva, like the Goddess herself, might find love everlasting, through this life and whatever life comes next. And now you stand guard, grip tight on your illustrious blades, merely a step or two from Minerva, yet still an ocean of distance away. For your treasure has passed through the gate with another, and it is he who will obtain Hylia's blessing of eternity by her side.
No. Do not let the tears cross your solemn cheek. Not now. Not this day.
The High Priest drones with a heavy baritone, "Thy lordships, Queen Minerva Sonius Hyrule, Lord Rhoam Bosphoramous of Akkala. Today, with the divine blessing of the Goddess Hylia, thou shalt embark on a journey that will last the rest of thine lives and beyond." Ponderously he opens wide an ancient tome, thick, weathered and cracked. "Today, thee take thy solemn pledge, to rule united all of the lands of Hyrule, and so understand them anew. Today thy hearts shall fuse as one, with a promise to love, cherish, encourage and-"
You tried to listen. Truly, Urbosa, you did. Minerva would want you to hear the words she chose from the great books of Hyrule's high histories. Words taken, treasured and true, from tales of friends, heroes, companions, lovers and more. But no, it takes only one glance at the joyous couple, smiles brimming with adoration, washed clean by the waves of love in each other's eyes, and you cannot withstand even a moment more. Your attention ambles away from the jubilant almost-weds, and meets the lascivious eyes of the Lady-in-Waiting you drunkenly took to bed two evenings ago.
Well, that hardly seems appropriate either.
Back to the gate you turn, to the couple and their attendant Priest, who intones like the ringing of coliseum bells on the crowning of a champion, his words carrying like smoke to the sea.
"This Gate is a sacred symbol of the holiest of times in the history of this mighty land. Where the heroes and saviors of old first embarked upon their humble quests. Where the Goddess, through her valiant lover, the original Chosen Hero, first learned to be mortal. Where-"
Oh well. You gave it your best.
Deftly you return, to your most recent distraction. What was her name again? Ashei? Hilda?
Does it matter?
She cannot take her eyes off you, chest heaving with scantily clad desire. A smirk tugs at your lips. Add her to the burgeoning list of vai who shall never see the bed of a voe again.
But now is not the time. You do not desire this, the kind of love that hangs ready to be taken off the wall like a traveler's cloak. Though it tears at your heart and stabs at your soul, you must attend to your beloved, to your dear friend's day of delight. And so you suffer in silence, the words Minerva wrote sliding softly past you. You hear a brief reflection on blessings from the Goddess to predestined lovers and then, heavenly consolation...
"Lord Rhoam. Lady Minerva. Having come faithfully to the Temple and having walked through the Goddess' Gate, take thy hands and place them together. By the holiness granted to me, I give thy wish to Hylia and the Golden Three. May all thy tomorrows be celebrated with the same vitality as today. May thee recognize the beauty in one another each and every eve and morn. May thy love always be as old, and as new, as the first love. With this wish, I thee wed. And now, King Rhoam, Queen Minerva, you may seal thy marriage with a kiss."
And so it is done. You hold Minerva's flowers like the hand of sadness reaching in from its icy home. King Rhoam wraps his hulking arms around Queen Minerva and into his chest he pulls...
You do not watch them kiss. What made you believe you could?
No, you turn away, eyes fixed on faded temple stone, in a futile attempt to escape. May those who witness the tear trailing down your cheek believe it springs from glee and give it not another moment's thought.
This, I know; today the Goddesses shall grant you this one reprieve, even if they grant you nothing else.
You ride alone through the afternoon in the palanquin behind the newlyweds, begging your heart not to guess at what transpires behind the silk. Then, as the setting sun sprays lilac light across the horizon, you find your way into the castle sanctum, your fourth glass of wine nearly empty in your hand. Here, you are joined by a throng of guests, nobles and dignitaries representing the very reaches of the kingdom and beyond.
Look! In comes the Rito delegation, preening and proper as ever is their wont. There are the colors of Akkala, Lurelin, Ordona, Lon, and all the others you never deigned to learn. There are the Shiekah, guarding the blood of the Goddess from their eternally sworn place at the right hand of the Queen. And there is the Queen Mother, already laying the wisdom of the spirits in her coronated daughter's ear.
What a reception it is! It seems the whole of Hyrule is here. True, emissaries from the Great Forest are absent, but one could hardly expect the Great Deku Tree to uproot and forsake his sacred grove for a mere wedding, even if it is a royal one. And none would be so foolish as to invite the mischief of the Koroks, even if one could see them.
With a rumble and crash come the rolling boulders of the Goron delegates, ready to present the opulent gifts of their hallowed mountain halls. The old Boss kneels as best as his aged back will allow and unveils, sparkling like the stars in midwinter, a meticulously polished diamond, nigh the size of your fist. Several onlookers in the crowd gasp, drawing uproarious laughter from a tremendously burly Goron in the entourage, before he is quickly admonished for his disrespect.
So. That must be the Great Daruk, commander of the Goron armies. The rumors say that he is the greatest warrior the Gorons have seen since the mighty Darunia, sworn brother to the fabled Hero of Time.
'Tis many years, Urbosa, before you will come to know Daruk in full. Before the two of you swear the holiest of oaths to support, guide and protect your young companions through the bitter trials they must, together, face. An age of longing and lamenting must yet come to pass, ere this day, at last, arrives. As of now, you know little of the strength, skill and generosity that you shall one day hold in the highest esteem. You know only the gossip appointing him as a fighter with a powerful reputation… and a preposterous lack of decorum.
Ah, and what a study in contrast now approaches. See how deliberately the Zora ambassador, well into his third century, draws close to the throne? Rhoam stands, grin glued to his cheeks, and they join with an exuberant embrace.
"Muzu, you overgrown mackerel, you! You said you were not going to make it!"
Ambassador Muzu laughs like a child, still as hale as ever entering his later years.
"My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. I was not sure I would. Were it not for young Mipha watching over baby Sidon, I would still be playing nursery maid in the domain."
From the throne Minerva stands and curtseys with practiced perfection, "So, little Sidon remains a terror? How are the King and Queen managing?"
Muzu bows deep, "Your Grace, their efforts are unending. We will be lucky if we still have a Domain a year from now." He sighs, "Thank the Goddesses for Mipha and her care, both of Sidon and the Domain. If she ever manages to find a worthy husband, they will certainly be a king and queen for the histories. Ah, and speaking of which..."
The Zora guards bring forth a silver pointed chest, from which Muzu draws forth a tapestry, blue as the waters of Zora River itself.
"This tapestry was made by Princess Mipha, King Dorephan and Queen Rutala, from the scales atop their hearts. King Dorephan sends his regrets that he is unable to present it in person-"
"He likely would not have fit in the door," Rhoam jests, prompting a coughing chuckle from the aristocratic ambassador.
You are certain this procession will go on for hours, and in this same fashion. Surely no one will notice if you are gone. Perhaps it is time to locate that Lady-in-Waiting, whose name you really should learn. Perhaps you could ask her for a dance, or the kind of dance that comes after. Perhaps she could replace the sour taste on your tongue with something far sweeter.
A quick glance reveals her, leering lustily after you, breathlessly waiting at one of the sanctum's many exits. Well. Such a temptress, luring you into the depths of depravity! How Din blesses seduction with her spark.
You will only be gone for a few hours...
Suddenly there is shouting. Alerts from the guards. A commotion at the throne.
You turn, hands clasped to your swords. A slender Hylian voe, wrapped in rags of brown littered with strange yellow scrawls, is being hauled from the sanctum by the Royal Guard, struggling and screaming.
"Your majesties, please! You must listen! The Demon King's hate does not rest! He will return! The Calamity will be resurrected! You must prepare! You must-" A nameless guard forces the ragged man's silence with a gloved hand across the mouth, dragging him away.
At the throne a fuming King commands his steel-clad soldiers. Minerva's face is white, eyes laden with worry. Oh, Urbosa, how you long to ferry her away from this, along with all her fears… But there is Rhoam, reaching his palm to her cheek and whispering her back to a night of newly wedded bliss. See how she smiles and sweetly kisses him? Are the two of them not the picture of pure and perfect love?
There, again, is the sickening taste in your mouth. Name it as the jealousy you strive so hard to suppress, the envy that threatens to blight your bones. Where, then, does the Lady-in-Waiting await? Alas, Urbosa, she is gone. Faded into the smoky twilight like the moon flees before a violent dawn.
Let the frustration flee your lungs with a stormy sigh, then exit, off to the balconies, where you plunge into their westward view. Draw your gaze to the now-finished tower where you once discovered, and then became, yourself. Candles flicker in its open windows, their flames as delicate as the dreams that whisper in your ear like a lover's lipstick on your neck. The dreams where Minerva is by your side, for an age as old as the ocean. The dreams where she meets your eyes, as still as the waters of the fountain. The dreams where she holds your hands like the sky holds the stars.
Ah, these are all but dreams, Urbosa. Dreams doomed to sit untouched on the mantle while the leaves turn gold in the autumn afternoon. Dreams that we wake, unrested, from, pillow drenched in envious tears. Dreams that quickly die in sand, like a seed from the sweeping plains, or dreams that, like the brittle desert grass, drown in the lightest of rains. Was it wrong for you to dream you could be her armor and her cloak, while she loved you, and you alone? Will your dreams wait forever inside an empty home that you built just for her?
Heaven curse these dreams! How do you tell your hands not to wait for hers? How do you tell your soul to dream of her no more? What love matters if Minerva will not choose yours?
It is long that you stare into the night, lost in the thicket of your thoughts. Off in the distance, the walls of Tanagar Canyon flicker with flame, denoting the dragon Dinraal's nightly pilgrimage. Its radiance so often carries comfort, but strangely, the burn of its far-off fire only unsettles you.
Why? Why tonight, of all nights, does the dragon of Din bring you discomfort?
"Enjoying the view?"
Your reverie is snapped.
Minerva always had a gift for sneaking up on you.
She smiles benevolently across the balustrade and walks beside you, beaming like a beacon in the white of her wedding dress. "You know, I was just thinking about the night the two of us snuck out to that tower. It seems like so long ago…"
"It does." Are you, now, too stiff? Oh, Goddess, deflect, Urbosa, deflect, "Speaking of which, I did not notice your favorite knight amongst the guards today. Was Rhoam too jealous of him?"
She sheepishly grins, "Training accident. He retired to his family farmstead a few months ago."
"Hmm. Pity, that," you smartly smirk.
"In truth, Rhoam felt far more grief than I. Those two became quite close."
"Really?" Your eyebrow raises, "Does the King have a confession to give his champion?"
Minerva giggles, "If only, my dear Urbosa. If only."
Her smile softens, and she almost sounds as if she is sorry when she speaks, "By the way, I wanted to thank you for being my Goddess' Maid today. I know how much effort it is, and I want you to know that it is greatly appreciated."
You scoff, "You know as well as I do that all you ever had to do was ask."
"I would do anything you ask of me," scream your thoughts, but alas…
You stand in silence for a while, savoring her presence, and the stillness of the castle night. It is a silence she breaks.
"You know, I was worried I would not end up speaking with you tonight. I saw Cia giving you quite the eyes." She snickers, "Should I inform the court that yet another of my maids is ineligible to any male suitors?"
Ah, so her name is Cia, then. Good to know. You force out a chuckle, "Not tonight. I just needed some air."
Minerva nods, "All the politics gets so tiring. So many people from so many places with so many speeches. Even just watching it quickly becomes overwhelming. And then that drama with the fortune teller... I certainly cannot blame you for seeking solitude."
You do not correct her. How could you?
She shivers, though it is the pinnacle of summer and the nights are gentle and serene. Her voice is tinged with trembles, "To tell you the truth, he frightened me down to my core."
"The fortune teller?" you respond, startled, "When have you been afraid of anything before?"
Minerva looks to you and sorrowfully smiles, "I have been afraid of far, far too many things in my life, Urbosa. Far too many things indeed."
Her brow furrows, and she peers into the dark as if it were a bottomless sea, "I have been having dreadful dreams of late. Sometimes I am being hunted by a colossal black monster, sometimes it is a pig-like creature with hideous orange snakelike eyes, sometimes it is a man with skin like doom and a look of evil, wielding a blood soaked blade. Every dream ends with the kingdom in ruins and the castle streets filled with death."
She grabs your hand and leans into your shoulder, "I am scared, Urbosa. I am scared for Rhoam. I am scared for Hyrule. I am scared for you. I think the fortune teller might be right. I think something is coming."
Goddess, how you long to comfort her, more than any jewel in all the infinite realms. Ah, but sadly there are no words sitting on your tongue.
Say something, Urbosa, I beg of you! Fill the space she has shaped, draw out her dread! Tell her that you will not let her kingdom fall! Tell her that though your body may be broken and your beloved desert dunes may be transformed to an endless expanse of burnished glass, still will you defend her! Tell her that ten thousand lives and ten thousand deaths would you devote to her and her domain! Tell her that you love her now and will love her until the very end!
You open your mouth, ready to at last to show-
"Minerva?"
Alas, it is Rhoam.
Her arm departs yours and arrives at his. "There you are, my dear," he says, eyes coming to meet yours. "Ah, of course. Urbosa. You were a wonderful Goddess' Maid today. Er, how do you say it…Sarqasso… for being there with us."
A modest bow is your response, "Gerudo never outdone, Your Majesty."
Oh, what a cursed world, that made his road to Minerva's side so short. Oh, what torment that he effortlessly walked it. And, what wicked disaster that Minerva awaited him at the end.
Minerva shudders and Rhoam is attentive in an instant, "Minerva, my love, my dear, my queen, what is wrong?"
She buries her angst in his sternum and her voice tightens like the string of a bow, "Oh, Rhoam. I am so afraid. What that fortune teller said was just like my dreams. What if he is right?"
Rhoam holds her tight and looks at her with such tenderness that your heart strains in spite of itself, "I know my dear, I know. He frightened me too. But if he is right… Well, there is no strength in all the world that I believe in more than yours. Whatever calamity comes, you will overcome it the same way you have done everything else."
The look she gives him is filled with the foundations of hope. Again, something terrible tugs at your chest. Why could it not be you?
But…
Does she not deserve hope? Does she not deserve comfort? Does she not deserve joy? Even if it betrays all the dreams you dreamed of it someday being you? Even if you see her in the eyes of every vai you meet, for all the rest of your days? Even if the ghosts of what might have been haunt you through the many nights to come?
Rhoam continues, "I promised today that I would always be your home. I shall now be more specific." He holds her hands, as if he were clinging to life itself, "I promise that home will always be a safe haven for you to return to. I promise to fill it with love, every morning, noon, evening and night. I promise to wield all of my strength to protect yours, though I know you do not need it."
The joke in his smile is that of a fool, "I mean, let's be honest, if it were me facing the Calamity, we might as well abandon the kingdom now."
Minerva giggles and what tugs at your stomach seems to soften. Rhoam adds to her tittering laugh his hearty chuckle, "Thank the Goddess that it would be you, then, and not I. And I dare any dark sorcerer, demon king or calamity to best you."
Minerva buries her face in Rhoam's chest again, but now she is grateful, calm, content.
Yes.
She does deserve this. She deserves every bit.
How sadly you smile, how sorrowfully you surrender. May the Goddess have mercy on the "no" that screams through your soul. The "no" that rips at you like an assassin's blade, blood dripping from its jagged edge.
But yes. There it is.
She deserves it indeed.
Recall the smile you fell in love with all those years ago. Still it contains that same power, still it bathes you in the cool waters of the oasis, no matter how desiccate life's desert may be. Would you not do whatever it takes, ten thousand times and again, to see it surge across her face?
Yes. Of course you would.
And lo, there it is. Amid ancient masonry, and as the night's chill clenches at your throat, Rhoam has made Minerva smile, as warm and as carefree as a serene summer's afternoon. So, relent, Urbosa. Be at peace. Let the wedding bells ring like the beating of your heart on the walls. Let the executioner's sword finally, fatefully, fall.
At long last, you speak, "Minerva, there is something I have not done for you."
She turns, the questioning look on her face making it clear that you have done all she has expected and more besides. O heart, be not traitorous for but a moment more...
"Many blessings you have received today, from all across the lands of Hyrule, but I have yet to give you mine."
Gently you place your hands on hers. How she seems, even now, to glow…
"Minerva. I do not know if I have ever told you, but I have always thought of myself as the luckiest vai in all the lands of Hyrule and beyond. Who else could say they have been blessed by the Goddess with a friend like you have been to me?" You pause, overflowing and overwhelmed, "You have always believed in me so deeply, no matter if I merited it or not, and that faith has inspired me more than you will ever know or understand."
Oh, Urbosa, if only she could see as I see! If only she had your soul naked as a courtesan in front of her, all the fire in your heart exposed like a flower unveils itself in spring! How, then, could she not love you as I do?
You continue, "I could not be more grateful for every chance I have had to see the world through your eyes, and because of you I shall never look at the world the same way again. And so, let all the Goddesses, Hylia, Din, Nayru, Farore, and all the many beyond, hear this blessing that I freely give today."
How your throat tightens like the grip of a snake, your eyes watering like the plains gather rain.
"My dear, dear Minerva," Deep breaths, beloved Urbosa, hold back your tears for as long as you can, "May Din give you a world of adventure, and the freedom to explore it as you see fit. May Nayru give you a love laden with integrity, and a just and honorable reign as Queen. May Farore give you a host of friends and companions to join your journeys with compassion and grace. For you deserve so much more, and not a feather less…"
So much, still, you wish to say. Indeed, this is but a beginning to the words whose deluge threatens to drown your heart. Ah, but Urbosa, no more can you overcome. Your breath chokes, the tears flooding from your eyes mirrored by the ones that drip sweet trails down Minerva's perfect cheeks.
Slow and soft she walks to you, holding your hand like honey grips to the hive, feeding your very heart with her touch. And then you embrace, letting both your tears mingle like pollen in the briefest summer breeze on your breast.
Ah, but there is another member of the happy couple, one more piece of the euphoric pair…
"Rhoam," you say. He is buzzing and grateful, electric as a thunderwing butterfly.
"If you deal her even an apple's weight of pain, the Eight Heroines all together could not match the pain I will bring to you."
He laughs only once, cowed into submission by the severity of your stare. Good. He should be afraid of you.
"Do you swear that you shall never take for granted the gift you have been given today?"
He nods to you, as serious as the dead, "I promise on my very life I will not."
So, softly rest your hand on theirs, and let an unmistakable love meet in them again. The sigh in your soul escapes as a breath, light as a prayer sung to the wind.
"And to the both of you..."
Breathe deep, Urbosa. Summon all the strength in you that remains.
"May the Goddesses bless you with the wisdom to know what is right, the courage to pursue it, and the strength to see it through to the very end."
Thus, the end comes to pass. Minerva looks to Rhoam, and he looks to her, ever so bright and sweet. They will say, years from now, that there were rain showers, what else could be trickling down your cheek? O, but champion, be now at peace. Let it wash over you like a hymn, sung like reverence on the misty mountain's feet.
I see it clearly written, for no more tears are left to weep. You silently depart, the moon silhouetting you on the wall's forgettable gray, your shadows so quiet and deep. With a final glance back at the happy couple you smile, like a lullaby laying you softly, at once, to sleep.
Yes, Urbosa.
At last, you are at peace.