The Legend of Zelda and all characters, settings, objects and other content created by Nintendo are the property of Nintendo. Any content in this story not created by Nintendo belongs to me.

A comprehensive author's note can be found at the beginning of Chapter 9.

Thank you for reading!

I balled my silk slippers in my hand and proceeded to add them to the mass that was my silk stockings. Finally barefoot and barelegged, I pulled my long skirt up to my knees and scooted further toward the little moat that circled the private courtyard. I held my heels just above the chill trickling water and watched their wavering reflection below. Spring. It was my favourite season. I think that whatever season a person is born in is bound to be their favourite. The Crown Princess of Hyrule happened to be born in the spring; and her birth happened to mark the death of her mother, too. It didn't taint the season, to me. I could just imagine that she was in the gentle breezes and that her whispers were the patter of rain.

The Queen's death provided an excellent excuse for the nursemaids:

"She's a wild child," Mima would say. "But she lost her mother, poor dear; she must be forgiven." I was fine with this arrangement. It meant that I could occasionally stomp on a puddle of mud or run too quickly through the long halls and muss the carpets, and I had an excuse. I had never known my mother, so it was difficult to miss her. I had the endless parade of maids, chambermaids, nursemaids… and Impa.

Impa was a constant. She was my protector in a sense I never fully understood in my younger years, but also my teacher. She taught me history, law, languages, customs… and other, secret things. When I had first begun to see little bits of my dreams manifest in the waking world, it had been she who explained to me the art of prophetic visions and helped me to distinguish prophecy from regular nighttime whimsy. My father's mother had had them too, she said. It was an heirloom of sorts among the women of the royal family.

While Impa supervised these areas of my education, other aspects were reserved for various instructors chosen for employ by my father. My dancing master, Pierset, was as tall and thin as a reed and flowed as gracefully around the dance floor. I had a Mistress of Ceremonies, who along with her staff endeavoured to ensure that I display only the perfect etiquette at all times. The rest were peripheral and dealt with me very little on a personal level, however hard I sometimes tried to engage them. I had never even met the man who balanced my household accounts.

My life was a progression of days, broken up by the odd event. I was old enough to be brought before my father to give a curtsy and receive a pat, but not old enough to attend festivals or official events. I was the light of my father's world, but very rarely did he find time to spend with me alone. Even when it was just he and I, our entourages together formed a formidable party. Still, he found time to occasionally supervise my learning to ride and once and a while I was surprised during a lesson; my father would swoop in like a burst of golden light, tall and infinitely handsome, and lift me into his arms and out of the schoolroom to play in the flowers. King Antoneas II was famous for his good looks – golden hair and a trim beard, a strong jaw and sparkling brown eyes, and he was always fit from hunts and sporting – and his kindly nature, but also for his bravery and decisiveness in the face of adversity.

The Civil War of Hyrule concluded a year and a half before my birth. By the time I was old enough to notice, the kingdom was for the most part stable, and quite a bit of rebuilding had already been done. My father had managed, with the blessing of the Goddesses and the aid of his allies, to conquer and unite the land of Hyrule, which had hitherto been a struggling confederation of small kingdoms. Surprising everyone, he had allowed each respective kingdom to keep their land and their monarchs, their customs and languages; taxes imposed reflected only the upkeep of an armed force dedicated by region in case of attack. I had good reason to be proud of my father. Certain areas, however, remained in doubt. The desert to the west – the land of the Gerudo – had provided the fiercest and longest sustained threat to the union of Hyrule, and upsets still occurred there regularly, so it was there that reconciliation efforts were directed for most of my life.

I had never before, however, met their King; until my tenth birthday, that is. The dark-skinned Gerudo with their exotic golden eyes and flaming hair are made up entirely of women, save a male who is born every hundred years – this male is destined to become their King. Hylian blood is rampant among the tribe, despite the hostility borne by their women for our Hylian men; it is Hylian men who father these female children with rounded ears and red hair, though they are not allowed access to the Gerudo Desert unless they can prove their worth in battle. I had always been fascinated with the Gerudo, especially their worship of the Goddess of the Sands. Impa said that, essentially, this Goddess was Din; but the Gerudo would not acknowledge the name.

Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo, arrived with his embassy precisely the week of my birthday. Childishly, I was a little disappointed – it meant that I would have none of my father's attention at all for at least a month. But the dark man with the evil eyes quickly captured my attention… and my concern.

Letting my feet finally fall into the water of the moat with a little 'plop!' I gasped at the cold. It was only because everyone was so busy with the Gerudo embassy that I was allowed these moments to myself. Impa was there somewhere, of course, watching from some unseen place. Perhaps I should regard this as my birthday present, I thought.

But the thought of the Gerudo King nagged at me. I'd had dark dreams of late, more frightening than anything I'd ever felt before. They were perfectly clear and crisp in my mind, more like memories than dreams: the dark clouds looming over the kingdom, an ill omen… feeling helpless, cold, a chill rain on my skin… indescribable fear and grief. Although Impa wasn't one to show much emotion, I could tell that she was very concerned with this latest prophecy. We agreed on one thing: the dark clouds were manifestations of that man from the desert.

My father barely had time for me, but when I said that it was urgent, he made it; but I was dismissed with a heavy sigh when I told him the truth. I think that he needed to believe there was a chance with Ganondorf. While it brought me nothing but frustration, in retrospect I couldn't fully understand his burden. He had experienced that horrors of war and was faced with the option of peace… and that was something that he was not going to throw blindly after a child's nightmare. He told me that Ganondorf was a formidable man, and that I was just frightened of his appearance. It was certainly possible. I had never until then been formally introduced to the man, but I had seen him; I'd seen his towering figure, rough hands and dark armour, and the sharp menace of his gaze.

One comfort remained to me. In my dream, the dark clouds would suddenly be pierced by rays of beautiful light from the vast forest to the south. The light would solidify into a greenish shape, the figure of a child, holding a glittering green stone I recognised as the Spiritual Stone of Forest. Flittering around the child's head would be the bright light of a fairy. Then I would sense Impa's presence, and I would hear her whistling my lullaby, apparently to the other… and then I would wake.

My excursions to the library informed me that this figure could only possibly be one of the Kokiri, popularly believed to be nothing but myth; yet since no one returned from the depths of the enchanted woods, I could believe that such beings might go undocumented. When presented with my theory, Impa merely gave a noncommittal hum; with her, this can only mean that she is withholding information.

"Your Highness?" The voice called from behind a hedge. I recognised the voice of a younger member of my staff. She could easily be escaped or persuaded, and had thus often been of use; but I really meant her no ill will, and sometimes felt badly for the trouble I had caused her.

"I am here, Tess," I called, and her head popped around the corner of the hedge to peer at me. Her expression was quickly overcome with horror, doubtless because of my state of undress. Although I was in play clothes, my station demanded that any outfit short of that for bathing or for sleep contain a certain amount of adornment. Although my hair was wrapped neatly beneath a cloth headpiece to keep it from becoming mussed, it was crowned with a medallion of gold; and though, against current fashion, I wore long sleeves close to my arms to ward off the pricks and catch of thorns, these sleeves were layered over with fine silk; and my dress, while loose, was belted with gold and gems. Practicality was supposedly balanced with the needs of my station, though in my opinion the outfit was neither flattering nor practical. It successfully defeated both purposes, play and presentation. Thus, I had no qualms in getting the thing dirty or in hitching my skirt up to the knees to do so.

"Where…" She spluttered, her freckled face burning. "W-where are your stockings?" Realising a little too late that she'd gotten ahead of herself, she curtsied and murmured, "Your Majesty."

I giggled, tossing my balled up stockings and slippers at her bent form. It rolled over her back.

"Behind you!" I said, standing to prepare to run. She was no match for me – I knew these gardens like the back of my hand.

Although she was smiling (shyly), Tess fumbled after me with a desperate air. "Your Highness, please! We are to prepare you to meet the King from the desert!"

I halted in my tracks, struck by sudden fear and a thrill of… excitement, maybe. However the man worried and frightened me, he was also irresistibly fascinating. Tess gathered my discarded stockings and slippers and went to me, kneeling to replace them. I lifted one foot and then the other mechanically, my mind elsewhere. Why was I to be presented to the King now? This was highly unusual. Foreign dignitaries were not uncommon, but being personally presented at any time other than for a single minute during a feast or festival was unheard of.

"Princess?" Tess was staring at me, concerned, her hand held out to me. I placed my fingers upon her upraised palm as habit dictated, allowing her to lead me daintily from my playground and into the darkening quiet of the castle.

Several hours of bathing, dressing, hairdressing and waiting later, I stood before the entry to my father's study. He had guests here, played cards, signed documents – obviously he was trying to make his guest feel more at ease and personally attended to. I shivered at the thought of that man spending so much time in my father's personal spaces, which I had long regarded as impenetrable and sacred. The pages on either side of the door stared ahead and not at me, but I could feel their attention bristling. True, I was not often seen. I had my own household and staff, my own ladies and attendants, in another part of the castle – and young pageboys were very markedly absent from my world. I imagine they were more fascinated with me than I was with them. I was too occupied with the twisted knot in my stomach to give them much thought, and either way I was too young then to give more than a passing thought to the male species. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Impa, leaning against the wall in a distant shadow. She caught my eye and nodded. I nodded back, gathering my resolve.

The tap of the doorman's staff precipitated the pages on our side opening the doors before us, and the herald announced me as I – followed by two of my ladies, one thirteen and the other eighteen, each chosen for their noble heritages and sweet dispositions to be my (often unwanted) companions – swept into the room. We curtsied before my father, who sat sprawled in a chair idly walking two fingers across his nearby globe. It was a globular map of the heavens, and one of my favourites. He straightened as we entered and with a flick of his hand, dismissed my ladies. They curtsied again and then backed from the room. The door was closed behind them. While still deep in my curtsy, I darted a quick look around beneath my lashes – and to my horror, found that aside from myself only a single page inhabited the room with the two Kings.

"Come here, my child," laughed my father, and I felt my heart immediately lighten. I rose and looked into his face; he was regarding me with a half-smile and curiosity, as if trying to gauge my mood and encouraging me to be strong at the same time. I smiled back, going to him and offering my hand. He pressed my tiny hand between his two big ones and gave me an encouraging smile.

"My Zelda," He whispered, and then faced the massive man who stood silhouetted by the window. I followed his gaze and gulped, my smile instantly fading. Ganondorf stood with his arms crossed, adorned as always in red cape and black armour. It seemed out of place – although the royal family wore certain pieces of armour as parts of our ceremonial garb, this man's perpetual use of full armour was quite unusual. The Thief King was gazing at me rather intensely, a small smile of sardonic amusement on his face. He seemed to be peering at me with great interest. I felt my heart lodge in my throat. My father had to apply a surprising amount of pressure to my back to get me to take a step toward the stranger.

"Ganondorf," my father said, jovial as always, "May I present the Crown Princess of Hyrule, the sun and moon of my world."

Ganondorf seemed especially amused at this; but his eyes never left me. With an abruptness that made me give an involuntary jump he broke his stoic pose and knelt to one knee – though he was still taller than me even then. His face was close to mine. I offered my hand timidly, as was the custom, but found myself entirely incapable of summoning a smile. He cradled my fingers gently upon his, and my hand looked infinitesimal within his huge one.

"I have heard much of you, My Lady…" he said, his voice surprisingly smooth and pleasing. It made a tingle run up my spine. His eyes never leaving mine, he raised my hand to his lips and kissed the air above it.

"Though protestations of your beauty have been plenty…" He freed my fingers but shocked me (and my father too, I imagine) by then lifting his hand to stroke my hair. It was worn free aside from a golden gem-encrusted circlet and hung to the small of my back, in the style indicative of my maidenly virtue. When I was married, I would then wear it up. I gasped and shrunk from his hand, and Ganondorf's deep laugh reverberated through the room. He smelled of sand, exotic fruit and rusted metal.

I turned my face away, embarrassed and unnerved, and caught sight of my father. He was tense, the lines of his smile a little too deep and his eyes hard. But he maintained a friendly stance.

"I think you've frightened the dear modest girl with such flattery, My Lord," he said lightly, but I could tell that he was displeased by the exchange. He opened an arm to me, and I gladly slipped away from the desert man to stand beside him. I was trembling. The King placed a comforting hand on my elbow. The protective gesture could hardly be disguised. Ganondorf stood, that infernal smirk still upon his face and his eyes still glued to mine; when he finally managed to drag his eyes away from me, it seemed with great reluctance.

"You know, my dear, security has once again been increased on your behalf," my father said, and I started. My warning had been heeded? But why discuss this in front of the very man my warning had concerned?

The King chuckled. "Yet another young gallant has been apprehended trying to sneak into the gardens – to catch a glimpse of you, the man claimed."

My heart sank, though I smiled prettily. Such a thing was not an odd occurrence. At least once a year, a commoner tried to sneak into the castle (usually the gardens, famously my favourite haunt) to beg an audience with the princess. I felt it had become more of an attempt at making a joke than an actual compliment to myself or to my reputation as a beauty. It was a pity the King still regarding my grievous concerns as the idle nightmares of a little girl.

The two kings carried on an apparently friendly banter, discussing weather and sports and trade as far as I could tell, but I was concentrating far too hard on looking at anything but the man in black. I still caught his frequent glances, though, and they unnerved me. Apparently he was as fascinated with me as I was with him. I doubted he felt the same fear, however.

"What are your views on the matter, Princess?"

My attention snapped to the conversation with horror. What, precisely, was 'the matter'? I'd missed that bit entirely. I forced myself to look up at Ganondorf. The man was far too pleased with himself.

"I must apologise, my lord. My mind has drifted elsewhere, and you must unfortunately repeat some of the conversation for my benefit."

"So eloquent! She is a credit to you, Your Majesty." As an afterthought, Ganondorf murmured, "We have so few women like the Hylians in the desert. These dainty creatures… so… breakable…"

My father looked brooding, but he allowed a small smile. "Indeed."

I bit my tongue, waiting to be apprised of the topic.

"Your father and I were just discussing the issue of religious incongruity throughout the kingdom. He believes that free practice will bring less rebellion and an attitude of tolerance. I, however, think that we must acknowledge that religious difference has always brought division and strife. Would it not be better for Hyrule to unite under a single spiritual doctrine?"

I knit my brow, tongue-tied for a moment. I had certainly not been expecting this. Impa aside, I was very rarely propositioned for an opinion on such serious matters as law and religion.

My father's laugh beside me made me grit my teeth. "I don't think…"

Doing the unthinkable, I interrupted the king. "Surely, as the Gerudo worship the Goddess of the Sands, such a measure would be anything but beneficial to your people."

The smirk on Ganondorf's face was finally vanquished. "That may be so. However, it is but my duty as a loyal servant to suggest a successful path to my King. What I would do, you might say…" His eyes were too bright for such a dark colour. "…if I were in his place."

I stiffened. I didn't like that. I didn't like that one bit, however innocent his wording. But best to answer his question before my father interrupted, if only to prove to him that I could give one.

"Ahum," I said noncommittally, in the manner of Impa, before moving on. To be honest, the thought of what he suggested was appalling. My heart sank at the thought of telling the Zora that as worshipping a deity other than the Goddesses was blasphemy, they may not make offerings to Lord Jabu-Jabu. To do so would essentially destroy the ancient fish. "I feel that as little as possible should be… imposed upon the people. And either way, to put on parchment that one believes something means nothing at all to the heart or mind. Can you honestly say that if the King made it law for you to practice the Hylian religion, you would in truth be anything but a disciple of the single Goddess?"

Ganondorf smiled, crossing his arms again. Maybe the sacrilegious cur believed in nothing at all.

I went on, not to be mistaken in my conviction. "Incongruity would exist as much as ever, except that a great amount of ire would then be directed at the throne and at religious Hylians in general. Such an imposition would cause far more disharmony than religious freedom, I think. No, I am sure."

My father stared at me with incredulous pride, but Ganondorf merely allowed his smirk to return and let his gaze travel curiously over me… again. Finally, my father slapped the arm of his chair.

"I couldn't have said it better myself! My daughter has grown into a very wise young woman, I can see." He turned a positively radiant smile on me. I smiled back, but the shadow of Ganondorf still loomed darkly over my mood.

"Well met, Princess," he said simply, apparently content with the result of whatever test he had just laid out for me.

"It is growing quite late in the day, my dear," my father said, and I had to resist sagging in relief. "You should return to your ladies," he said, and then added as I curtsied, "With my ever-present pride and love, of course."

I gave him a hesitant smile as I rose from my second curtsy – one more and then I should back from the room, for it was formally forbidden for anyone to turn their back on the King – but couldn't suppress my worry about leaving him practically alone with the obviously dangerous Gerudo King. He gave me a reassuring pat and then stood as I made my exit. As the doors were closed I heard my father say, "Care for a brisk afternoon ride, Ganondorf?"

Rejoining my ladies and retiring to my private rooms, I couldn't help but wonder why I had been summoned to meet the dark King in such an extraordinary fashion. My father had a good reason for everything. Sensing my brooding mood, the six young ladies that made up my entourage kept to their books, games and stitching. They knew when it was unwise to disturb me.