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Princess Peach never should have joined the fight.
That first night of Smash, after her first battle, she spent hours heaving in the bathroom, staring at her sweaty, nervous reflection in the mirror. Struck once again with the realization that she was useless here, constantly kidnapped, unable to fight. Struck with the visage of Zelda, of Samus. Now they, they knew how to fight, how to hurt, and Peach was star struck. Zelda twisting and flicking in her gown, flickering fast. Quick changing into Sheik and packing just as much pain. Samus, fast and strong, had flung Peach off the edge of the stage. Afterwards she had approached Peach, apologized, lifting her helmet from her head.
Beneath had been a sweaty face with gold hair pulled into a loose ponytail and gorgeous eyes. Samus was gorgeous, and strong, and beautiful and everything that Peach had never been.
That had been Melee, long ago. Then had come Brawl, and Peach had completely reinvented herself. Determined to impress, determined to win. She still wore her gown, wore rings, a crown. She wanted to slaps to sting, drew magic into her fingers, summoned hearts and ribbons from the source of her magic.
It was hard, and she was sore and ached after every match.
One night, Samus had come to her room. Wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and boxers, that beautiful hair cascading down her shoulders. Without her power suit, Peach could make out the muscles on Samus’ tanned skin.
“Is there something you need?” Peach had asked, feeling self-conscious. Samus had caught her halfway through her bedtime routine, covered only by a fluffy pink towel.
“I actually had a question for you,” Samus said.
“Give me just a moment, please, and I’ll answer it.”
Peach disappeared behind her changing screen to put on a lacy nightgown. Forcing down her giddiness at what was likely going to be their first real conversation, Peach stepped out. Settling on the edge of her bed, she patted the space beside her for Samus.
Samus settled, looking away. Her face was red, embarrassed.
“It’s just-“ Samus had said, “no. This is stupid.”
Peach rested her hand on Samus’. “Nothing is too stupid for me. Whatever your issue is, I promise I will listen.”
“It’s just- you and Zelda. The way you two fight is an art. You’re both so… so pretty and delicate. I feel like a sledgehammer between two needles when I’m with you.”
“Oh,” Peach breathed. “You know, I feel powerless when I compare myself to you. You always seem so strong, and confident.” She stared at her hands, raw with callouses, pain she did not know how to deal with. “My whole existence, I’ve been kidnapped. Never once have I ever been able to save myself. I wish I was as strong as you.”
Samus laughed, nervous.
“That’s a sentence I never expected to hear.”
“I mean it. I admire you so much.”
“I… admire you too.”
Samus stared at Peach. Peach stared back, finding herself caught in Samus’ gaze. She was close, so close. Peach could feel her warm breath, near intoxicating. But, no. No, she barely knew Samus, really. A bounty hunter and a Princess. It would never work, and she was certain Samus had some feelings for Snake. So Peach smiled and asked:
“Would you like some tea?”
Samus blinked. “I- sure.”
The rest of the night they had spent drinking and laughing. Somewhere along the way, Peach’s head had crept onto Samus’ shoulder. She watched the cracks in her ceiling, thinking of how nice it all was. Samus joked, and Peach giggled, and when it was two in the morning and Samus had finally gone to her own room, Peach realized the tea between her fingers had gone cold.
What nobody realized was that ruling the Mushroom Kingdom was a lonely job. Peach was not a Toad, and not a Queen either. Sometimes she imagined what it would be like if shadows took over her body for a day, ruled in her stead. Would it feel the same? The Kingdom thrived on its own, needed little guidance from her. One had to be self-sufficient when one’s Princess went missing, kidnapped by a King who was half her friend, for months at a time. Why should she ask anyone to stay with her? Especially someone who thrived in the stars.
She spent the rest of Brawl with Samus and Zelda. She discovered so many wonderful things! The way Samus rubbed the back of her head when nervous, shrugged when confused. She flinched at loud noises, ate her food without any table manners, as though someone would steal it. With Zelda she practiced magic, trying to improve her technique. Then Brawl had ended, and Peach had gone home to her Kingdom.
She had been kidnapped a week later. Bowser plucked her entire castle from the Earth and dragged her into space. Once again, it seemed she was powerless.
The next Smash, she arrived in her fanciest gown, hair done in curls, determined to impress. There were all sorts of new friends invited- including one Rosalina, met during her adventure through the stars.
The first fight was joyous. By now, Peach was used to the chaotic mess of battle. She weaved past Zelda to punch Samus in the face- they would laugh over it later. Just as Peach was about to reach Samus, Rosalina seemed to appear before her. A galaxy of stars exploded in Peach’s face, and she was gone.
Interesting that Rosalina had won her first fight of the year.
Later, Peach met with Zelda and Samus for tea and coffee and cookies. They chatted, caught up over nothing. Samus had a few new scars from a tight tussle with a Metroid. Hyrule had fallen and was doing okay once more. Laughing, Peach told the story of Bowser’s latest kidnapping.
“His creativity is something to behold,” Peach remarked. “Still, Mario always seems to win.”
Samus was quiet for a moment. “Is that who that lady in blue is? Rosalina?”
Peach blinked. “Yes. Isn’t she lovely?”
“Yeah,” Samus sighed. “She’s beautiful.”
Peach and Zelda shared a look.
“I need to excuse myself,” Peach remarked. Hiding the trembling of her fingers, she marched to the bathroom.
Rosalina. Rosalina.
Could she really compete with Rosalina? Their faces were similar, their hair, too. They had the same blue eyes, the same pink lips. But Peach was just some princess, and Rosalina was the Mother of the damn Stars. She was far more elegant, too. Her gown didn’t poof but cascaded, like water. Everywhere she went she floated; gravity had no effect on her. She was gorgeous and suddenly Peach was back in Melee again, feeling mundane.
Worse. Worse, Rosalina lived in space. It would not be so hard for Samus to visit her, to stay with her.
The door creaked. In walked Zelda, stone faced.
“Are you alright?”
Peach’s lips thinned. “I’m okay. Just feeling sick.”
“I mean about Samus.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Zelda flicked Peach’s forehead. “I know you have a crush on her. You’re a bad liar.”
Peach smiled. “I’m not going to force my feelings on her, Zelda.”
“You could still make a move.”
“I think she and Rosalina would be happy together,” Peach smiled. “They live so nearby.”
“You thought Samus would be happy with Snake, and he isn’t even here.”
“I was wrong.”
Zelda’s frown grew. She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.
“You know,” Zelda said, “I’m not sure I’m coming back to Smash next year.”
“What?” Peach gasped. “No!”
“There are other versions of me out there, you know. Link and Ganondorf and I keep incarnating, and I think some of those incarnations want their chance here.”
“Zelda…”
“You know, I’m constantly comparing myself to other incarnations? There have been so many Zeldas. I can’t keep track. Why should this version of me be the best one? Maybe another me is better.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Peach breathed. “You’re you. You are your own version of Zelda. Don’t compare yourself to others.”
Zelda raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to. And neither should you.”
Then she was gone, back to lunch with Samus.
Peach sighed, doused her face with water, and went out to join them.
The next day she was scheduled to fight Bowser, one on one. And the next Mario and Luigi. Marth. Ike. Ganondorf and Link and Zelda. Then Rosalina.
Peach threw everything she could onto the playing field. Turnips, magic, her trusty frying pan. Rosalina’s luma smashed her face in. Furious, Peach tore at Rosalina’s gown and was greeted with the magic of an entire galaxy, launching her off the stage. Angry, stubborn, she wanted to win. To prove she was better than this woman who Mario had befriended, who had helped save her.
Of course, she lost.
Rosalina found her later, curled up near the fireplace. There was a forgotten cup of tea between her fingers. The taller woman- and really, she was quite massive- magicked it away, settling beside Peach.
“You seemed… upset today,” Rosalina probed, “are you alright?”
Peach smiled, grim. “Just peachy.”
“You didn’t seem very ‘peachy’ today.”
The fire crackled and popped. Peach remembered the anger of the Vibe Scepter, how it had consumed her just like this. If only she could go back to those days, when she had been the hero. Not some damsel like she was now, always some useless damsel.
“It’s nothing.” Peach said. She did not say I feel threatened by your appearance, as you seem to be a better version of me.
“You know, I’m the mother to thousands of lumas. I raise them and watch them grow into planets and solar systems and stars. I never expected to be here in Smash, and yet here I am. I’d like to be friends with everyone. Including you, Peach.”
Peach turned her head. Rosalina was smiling down at her. In the firelight, her eyes glittered. Peach had the sudden impression that the woman could lift her with no effort at all. Hadn’t she earlier? Those galaxies she made were quite beautiful-
“You seem like the kindest person here,” Rosalina continued.
“Well the truth is I can be very selfish,” Peach replied. “Stubborn.”
“Good hearted. I admire you a lot.”
“Why you would think anything of me beyond being Mario’s ‘special one- ‘”
Rosalina settled on the armrest of Peach’s chair, staring into the fire.
“I’d like to get to know you more.” Rosalina interrupted, placing a hand on Peach’s shoulder. “We should be friends.”
“That sounds lovely.” Peach said. The fire was warm gold and Peach was struck, quite suddenly, with the image of Daisy. If only Daisy were here- her best friend knew so much, was so much stronger.
Rosalina waited in silence for a moment, adjusted her hair as though nervous. “Would you like to get dinner with me?” She blurted.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Rosalina held out her hand, pulling Peach to her feet. Peach dusted the corners of her dress, ran delicate fingers through her hair. Rosalina’s eyes were deep. Peach had the sudden, nervous feeling that Rosalina already knew everything Peach felt, that she knew countless, ancient things. Or perhaps she simply looked wise.
Dinner was delicious, the company warm. Afterwards, they drove to the darkest area they could find and gazed at the stars. Peach watched, incredulously, as Rosalina named every single one of them.
Peach stumbled home afterwards, shut the door of her room, and slid to the floor. Her gaze was pink, filled with every pink item in her room, yet all she could see was blue, blue, blue. The blue of Rosalina’s gown, of Samus’ zero suit. Both of their eyes. The mottled, creamy gold of their hair.
They were both so lovely. They were perfect for each other. Meant, perhaps. And Peach was starting to like them both.
The next day she spent stress baking, frosting the cake with orange and gold and pink and red and every color should could think of except blue. Once, she glanced out the kitchen window to the garden and there she saw it. Rosalina and Samus, strolling between lines of lavender. They were holding hands despite being acquaintances, Rosalina floating, as usual, just off the cobblestone path.
Oh, hell.
But smash came and went, as it always did. Peach spent the next few years writing letters back and forth with Zelda, sending messages to Samus. Rosalina visited from the stars. And once again, like clockwork, Bowser kidnapped Peach.
His hands were large and scaled, and they could wrap around her body with no effort. Her tiny, weak body. Peach didn’t understand, never understood, why she always became so powerless. She sat atop Bowser’s skyboat. The edge was right beside her, she could float. It was so close.
She did not jump. She did not jump as Bowser carried her from kingdom to kingdom, as she was dressed in a gown she hated, as she made friends with the very Tiara placed atop her head. The world spread out below her, and Peach sat in her quarters and pushed down her brewing anger and watched.
Why couldn’t she leave? Call for help? Peach slept, dreamt that Samus had driven her ship to the mushroom kingdom, that Rosalina was there with her. The two discovered she was gone, giving chase as Mario did. But Samus’ ship was designed to traverse galaxies.
Peach dreamed of the wedding. Samus and Rosalina would break down the door- Bowser, expecting Mario, would be too shocked by their appearance to do anything. And Peach would be carried away, carried away as she always was, in Samus’ muscled arms. Rosalina close behind.
Then she woke up and remembered that her only hope was Mario. Peach, as usual, could do nothing.
The wedding came and went. Mario arrived, had his usual fight with Bowser, and off they all escaped. Peach had, as always, simply come along for the ride. Still, it felt nice later to commandeer her own ship. The world was so beautiful, even Bowser’s kingdom. She saw vast forests, tall towers. An Ancient Dragon slept in a ruined world, Pauline had a beautiful voice, and the moon was quiet and white. Mario had braved so much for her. And what had she done?
Cried his name. Dreamt of rescue.
Peach stared at the empty moon, the color of milk beneath her feet.
“I could have escaped,” she lamented. The sound echoed, loud. “I could have done something.”
But she never did anything. And, how could she? Peach was the princess, the damsel in distress. Inferior in fighting, no matter how hard she tried to reinvent herself. Inferior in looks, in skill, in will. In every way lesser.
When she returned at last to her castle, the invitation to Ultimate was waiting.
Glee battled nerves. Peach arrived at the mansion in her best dress, feeling an absolute wreck. Daisy was beside her for once, vibrating with excitement. It seemed the whole place had doubled in size to accommodate newcomers, a few of which had yet to arrive.
Packing her clothing away, Peach was interrupted by a knock on the door. There before her stood a young woman in an elaborate gown with spun gold hair.
“Hello?” Peach called.
“Hello,” the woman- girl, really- answered. “Are you Princess Peach?”
“I am.”
“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Zelda. I understand you were friends with another me.”
Peach crushed her brimming disappointment, replacing it with a welcoming smile. “Pleased to meet you, Zelda. I’m happy to welcome you here.”
Zelda frowned. “You aren’t disappointed? I replaced one of your best friends.”
“She isn’t gone. And I’ll be your friend too, if you like.”
“Oh,” Zelda laughed. “I would… I think I would like that.”
This Zelda, Peach quickly realized, was a spitfire. This Zelda was clever where hers was cool. They smirked at different things, walked in different manners. Only their magic was the same.
Zelda had always been a special case. Like Peach, she knew what it meant to be captured, over and over. It had always been comforting. This new Zelda seemed far more self-conscious about it, about everything.
“You don’t have to fill her shoes,” Peach remarked one day after a particularly taxing training session. “There is no reason to prove you can fit.”
Zelda stared at her, incredulous. “No reason?”
“You’re Zelda. You belong.”
“But I’m not that Zelda.”
Peach slipped off her gloves, grasping Zelda’s shoulders.
"You have your own worth.” She asserted.
Peach’s own reflection, weak and useless, stared back in Zelda’s eyes.
“You have your own worth,” Peach repeated, adamant.
There was a little bit of herself in Zelda. Peach remembered, vividly, that first night of melee. Sweating, heaving in the bathroom, barely blinking the tears from her eyes. She had felt useless then, and she felt useless now.
“You don’t have to feel useless.” Peach said. “You’re allowed to be weak and cry and you will still belong her as much as anyone else. You are strong and important, and you belong here, Zelda. Just as much as my old friend, or me, or even Bowser. You do not have to prove your worth.”
And maybe, just maybe, neither did Peach.
The next morning, Peach woke up early and slipped a note underneath Samus and Rosalina’s doors. Then she padded to the kitchen in just her nightgown, tying her hair into a ponytail. There was only one princess here who knew how to make cake. Peach smiled, gathering utensils and ingredients. Outside, the sun rose, spilling light atop her work. The metal whisk glistened. By the time Samus and Rosalina entered the kitchen, blinking sleep from their eyes, the smell of cinnamon permeated the air. A perfect coffeecake rested proudly atop the counter.
“Good morning Peach,” Samus said, “Rosalina.” She smiled.
Peach sat the two at a circular table in the corner, served them each a slice. Then she settled across from them.
“I apologize for calling you here so early,” Peach said, “but I’d love to catch up. And I have something to say.”
“It’s okay,” Samus yawned, “I’m used to waking early.”
“I don’t have a sleep schedule,” Rosalina added. “I live in space.”
Peach giggled. Straightening her back, she reached one hand to Rosalina, and one to Samus. Steeled her nerves, breathed deep.
I am not useless. Peach told herself. And if I am, that is okay too.
“I’ve always felt… inferior to you both. Samus, you’re very strong and powerful in a way I can never be. Rosalina… sometimes I think you are everything I could have been but never reached.”
“I-” Rosalina began. Samus held up a hand, silencing her.
“Over all this time,” Peach continued, “I have begun to really care for you two. I think I might love you. Both of you. If you’ll have me, would you like to go on… a date?”
There.
Samus was wide eyed. Rosalina had shut hers, considering. Peach trembled, tried to contain her nervousness. For once she was doing something. Like she should have, so many times. Even if nothing came of this, she had still learned something and-
Samus squeezed Peach’s hand tight, bringing it to her cheek. It was soft beneath her fingertips.
“I would love to.” Samus said, then turned her head. “Rosalina?”
Rosalina nodded.
“Samus and I have been seeing each other since the last Smash.”
“I thought so,” Peach remarked. “You two seem perfect for each other.”
“I would be happy to see you as well,” Rosalina added, eyes dark and intent.
Peach shivered. Then she smiled.
“I’m happy,” she said, and for once she really was.