Princess Zelda (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hylianqueen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
all_inclusive2014-03-05 01:01 pm
hylianqueen) wrote in all_inclusive2014-03-05 01:01 pm
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It had been a gambit to reveal herself to Link and Zelda had thought at the time it’d been a wise one; the Hero of Time deserved to know of her deception and her aid as he cleansed Hyrule of Ganondorf’s poison and she knew he’d be tight lipped about her whereabouts. What she did not consider, however, was that Ganondorf had eyes and ears in even the most sacred of places and the ambush at the Temple of Time hadn’t been a possibility Zelda had considered.
For a woman with a vast intellect, sometimes she could be quite dense. His laugh froze her to the very marrow of her bones, leaving her stock still and afraid to change forms lest he use the opportunity to injure Link or, worse, recover the Triforce of Wisdom for his own vile purposes. She could not let the Triforce fall to him no matter what and if that meant keeping the form she’d been born to, so be it.
The restraints were something of a bit of irony; rosy colored crystals conjured by Ganondorf himself that wouldn’t have been out of place in one of Zelda’s own spells, coupled with a vacuum inside that seemed to draw from emotion and not the air. It stifled her, but only to make her hopeless, and Zelda thought idly that perhaps that was worse. Should she die in his clutches a valiant death, railing against the dark and all he stood for, she’d die a martyr. Should she die a quiet death having given up on the world as a whole, nobody would mourn that at all. After all, Hyrule had no queen, not any longer, and had not for some time. Ganondorf was actually quite clever in that macabre little respect.
For all that he’d paralyzed her above the battleground he’d chosen to launch his final assault (her own palace, no less. Such nerve he had!), he couldn’t force her to watch. Zelda let her eyes drift shut, the magical meditation she’d perfected when in the body of Sheik flowing into something more mundane and born of exhaustion in the body of Zelda. She imagined some place far away, a vista untouched by the wicked king and his armies.
She pressed against the crystal that held her trapped, focusing all her will upon it and was pleasantly surprised when it seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. It was less than graceful, to be sure, but she was free. Of course, freedom meant very little at this juncture; she was still within the belly of the beast and there was no real way out. On a lark, she scrambled toward a forgotten door that led from the Temple back toward a graveyard long left untended. There was a path beneath one of the royal tombs that led straight to the palace, a path that Zelda hadn’t taken since she was a young girl. Pray that it is unblocked, she thought to herself, scrambling as fast as she could. If she were free, perhaps she could launch an offensive and aid Link.
Once she stepped through the door, however, she was not in the graveyard behind the Temple of Time. There were no royal tombs or broken down headstones, merely the carpeted corridor of some other building. What did this mean? How could a familiar path that she’d taken time and time again as a young girl change so much in seven years? While she’d half expected it to be blocked, she hadn’t expected it to lead somewhere else entirely!
There were people milling about these halls, seemingly going about the normal business of a day and Zelda could not comprehend that. It had been a long time since the Castle Town had actual citizens in it; much of Hyrule’s society had moved up into the hills and away from the conquered palace and Ganondorf’s influence. Zelda schooled her features into something approaching calm even though her heart still beat rapidly with the thrill of her escape.
“Excuse me,” she said, catching the attention of the closest person. “I seem to have taken a wrong turn. Can you tell me where I am, precisely? It’s a little embarrassing but sometimes when I have restless sleep, I tend to wander the halls a little.”
Hopefully it was a lie that would pass muster. Not often did Zelda fall asleep fully clothed in a gown worthy of the Hylian court but perhaps just for a moment this person could believe she had laid down for a short nap and been plagued with sleepwalking. It was a common enough affliction and one she herself had suffered as a child. It would not do to reveal just how truly disoriented she was at the moment.
The best way to sell a lie, after all, was to wrap it in the truth.
For a woman with a vast intellect, sometimes she could be quite dense. His laugh froze her to the very marrow of her bones, leaving her stock still and afraid to change forms lest he use the opportunity to injure Link or, worse, recover the Triforce of Wisdom for his own vile purposes. She could not let the Triforce fall to him no matter what and if that meant keeping the form she’d been born to, so be it.
The restraints were something of a bit of irony; rosy colored crystals conjured by Ganondorf himself that wouldn’t have been out of place in one of Zelda’s own spells, coupled with a vacuum inside that seemed to draw from emotion and not the air. It stifled her, but only to make her hopeless, and Zelda thought idly that perhaps that was worse. Should she die in his clutches a valiant death, railing against the dark and all he stood for, she’d die a martyr. Should she die a quiet death having given up on the world as a whole, nobody would mourn that at all. After all, Hyrule had no queen, not any longer, and had not for some time. Ganondorf was actually quite clever in that macabre little respect.
For all that he’d paralyzed her above the battleground he’d chosen to launch his final assault (her own palace, no less. Such nerve he had!), he couldn’t force her to watch. Zelda let her eyes drift shut, the magical meditation she’d perfected when in the body of Sheik flowing into something more mundane and born of exhaustion in the body of Zelda. She imagined some place far away, a vista untouched by the wicked king and his armies.
She pressed against the crystal that held her trapped, focusing all her will upon it and was pleasantly surprised when it seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. It was less than graceful, to be sure, but she was free. Of course, freedom meant very little at this juncture; she was still within the belly of the beast and there was no real way out. On a lark, she scrambled toward a forgotten door that led from the Temple back toward a graveyard long left untended. There was a path beneath one of the royal tombs that led straight to the palace, a path that Zelda hadn’t taken since she was a young girl. Pray that it is unblocked, she thought to herself, scrambling as fast as she could. If she were free, perhaps she could launch an offensive and aid Link.
Once she stepped through the door, however, she was not in the graveyard behind the Temple of Time. There were no royal tombs or broken down headstones, merely the carpeted corridor of some other building. What did this mean? How could a familiar path that she’d taken time and time again as a young girl change so much in seven years? While she’d half expected it to be blocked, she hadn’t expected it to lead somewhere else entirely!
There were people milling about these halls, seemingly going about the normal business of a day and Zelda could not comprehend that. It had been a long time since the Castle Town had actual citizens in it; much of Hyrule’s society had moved up into the hills and away from the conquered palace and Ganondorf’s influence. Zelda schooled her features into something approaching calm even though her heart still beat rapidly with the thrill of her escape.
“Excuse me,” she said, catching the attention of the closest person. “I seem to have taken a wrong turn. Can you tell me where I am, precisely? It’s a little embarrassing but sometimes when I have restless sleep, I tend to wander the halls a little.”
Hopefully it was a lie that would pass muster. Not often did Zelda fall asleep fully clothed in a gown worthy of the Hylian court but perhaps just for a moment this person could believe she had laid down for a short nap and been plagued with sleepwalking. It was a common enough affliction and one she herself had suffered as a child. It would not do to reveal just how truly disoriented she was at the moment.
The best way to sell a lie, after all, was to wrap it in the truth.
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"There is nothing I hate more than feeling awkward and uncertain," Zelda admitted readily. "I would much rather have the appearance of knowing what is going on even if everything is madness under the surface. Rather like a duck, wouldn't you say?"
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"Essentially, yes. Be the role you want to become instead of panicking. It is how I have always dealt with stress."
It seemed to have worked well until recently but Zelda supposed allowances must be made for hostile coups.