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The dress is tight when she puts it on, yet despite this her attendants make it tighter by pulling on the corset until she can barely breathe. Made of the finest silk and lace available, it is a dress befitting the princess. Zelda can appreciate the work and effort put into it, but she does wish it was made more comfortable and fit her form better. Whoever was her stand-in for the dress fittings couldn’t have been further away from her size from the way it was bunching at the waist and arms. The silk, at the very least, is light and airy and the lace is more decoration than actually necessary to make the dress with.
There is a piece of thread loose on the right sleeve but Zelda cannot bring herself to bring attention to the minor imperfection. She should. It is her wedding dress, after all.
Her mind is elsewhere. Across not only time as others have before her but across timelines. Seeing impossibilities no one else can see, realities that should have been hers but aren’t and yet still are. They are not her-her, though, they are other versions of her. Two others, both older than her with vastly more experience in worlds tarnished by a war prevented by the Hero in this time who was forced to abandon them in others. For there is only one Hero, but three of them.
“Oh, how lucky you are, your Highness. Sir Gash is a very handsome man, has the ladies swooning for him, he does!” says one of her attendants, who then raises Zelda’s arm an inch higher as if that will prevent the extra material from sagging at her waist.
“I hear he’s very good in the sack, if the maids are to be believed!” Zelda’s hips are prevented from moving by a pair of hands that rid the skirt of a speck of imaginary dust.
The oldest of the attendants, a lord’s wife if Zelda’s memory serves her right (it always does) tuts at the remark. “I say, Gossy, you must not say such things in front of Her Highness. A bride’s mind must be pure before her wedding night!” The other attendants giggle and nod at Gossy’s blushing and sheepish look.
Zelda wonders what the lord’s wife would say if she mentioned that she could see the bedroom activities of her other versions.
She casts her mind out again, letting the voices of the others in her world wash over her until she can barely hear them anymore. She’s in the bad timeline, the one where she saw Link die at the hands of Ganon. She doesn’t like this timeline. After all this Zelda – Sheik? – has been through, the dismissive words of their father, the harsh training of the Sheikah, the seven year wait, it ends with a sword through their final hope and a dead body leaving behind the ruler of a ruined kingdom and Seven Sages to finish the job as well as they can.
The timeline for this her – or him? This her feels more of a him than a her – is seven years ahead of hers, as is for the other her – him? – as well. It is curious how such things work. Send a child back to their younger body and create a timeline further in the past. Zelda wonders if the same thing happened again if another timeline seven years younger than hers could be created. It isn’t a comfortable thought. Her soul is already split across three timelines, he doesn’t think it can handle a fourth.
An attendant lets out a squawk that briefly reminds Zelda of farm one of the others had visited once. An accusatory finger points to the loose thread on Zelda’s sleeve as if it had committed a great crime. Within minutes, her attendants are rushing around like headless Cuccos the moment the news of the loose thread is released. It is the Princess’s wedding dress, after all, it must be perfect.
“Quick! Get a needle! Someone get at needle!”
“There ain’t time, miss! We only gots ten minutes!”
The unnecessary commotion wastes about half of the ten minutes Zelda had left to get ready before one of the attendants thinks to grab a pair of scissors to cut the evil thread off. Zelda watches as it falls to the ground and stomped under uncaring feet.
The lord’s wife’s voice thunders across the room as though she is commanding troops. “Time! You there!” she shouts, pointing at a frightened attendant, probably the youngest in the room if the pimples on her face are to be believed. “Find the time! We have not got the time!”
“F-f-our minutes, my lady, u-u-until we must leave.” Zelda feels as though she should ask if the young attendant needs to sit down and have a glass of water but she feels as though the lord’s wife will take it as an indignation to her obviously superior knowledge of how time works.
The lord’s wife stamps her foot like a child and calls for the veil to be added. A brief moment of silence passes before the squawking and panic resumes as the attendants look for the veil currently hanging in the closet.
Zelda doesn’t understand the significance of the veil. She may have not seen Sir Gash before but he has certainly seen her at ceremonies and such. If it was anyone it should be him hiding his face for fewer have seen him than have seen Zelda. As it is, he is wearing ceremonial knights clothing that were likely not his before today while Zelda is stuck in an ill-fitting dress meant to only be used once. A waste of material if you ask her. Zelda is about the same size as her mother was on her wedding day, if the portraits are to be believed, so it would be much more cost-effective, and more significant if she were to wear her mother’s dress. But, no. The Princess must have a new dress that will be left to rot in a spare room somewhere or stolen by a maid to cut up into curtains. She simply must!
By the time the veil is found, Zelda is already back across the timelines, watching something much more interesting. She misses a butler entering, telling them that they must get downstairs quickly for the wedding will begin soon. He also misses the lord’s wife grabbing a maybe ancient but more likely less than five years old vase and throwing it at the butler. It barely misses him as he escapes behind the door and slams it shut.
Zelda wanders into the timeline Link left. It’s her favourite timeline. One where he has no knightly husband or kingly father telling him what to do. His father is dead and their husband is a former squire he found protecting wandering travellers. A truly noble soul, unlike the pompous Sir Gash. Zelda wonders if she could find him in her timeline. He is quite attractive in a homely sort of way.
She is snapped back to her timeline when the lord’s wife grabs her arm – it really is quite painful – and drags her out of the fitting room to the carriage waiting for them outside. Zelda glances down at the seat she is meant to sit in and wonders how clean it actually is and if it will show up on the white dress. She may not care for her impending marriage but she still has her pride, after all.
The carriage ride is short, the temple is not even across Castle Town from the castle, but they barely make it in time due to the horses getting spooked by a cat that decided to sleep in the road and did not appreciate being woken by the sound of hooves.
Zelda’s father is not waiting outside. He likely got bored waiting and is talking with some old lords or sneaking milk from a vat. The lord’s wife is not happy but dares not speak against a King known to be not only gullible but for raging on people he thinks have besmirched his honour.
A pageboy (the poor dear) is chosen to fetch the King so he may give his daughter and heir away. Zelda finds she is getting bored himself but she must remain vigilant, at least in appearance. Hundreds within the church will be watching her and it would not do good for the future queen to be seen absent in mind. Luckily, he has gotten used to feigning interest in long ceremonies and unnecessary talks but it would not do good for her to continue his journey across the timelines no matter how much she wants to.
By the time the King her father arrives, Zelda has steeled her face for the long ceremony.
There are few she recognises within the church. Impa is there, as Chief of the Sheikah Tribe she gets a fitting place on the pew closest to the alter alongside the Zora Princess (she is, was, a Sage, once) staying as far away from the Goron Chief as she can who is taking up three seats on the pew at once. The new Gerudo Chief, Nabooru (another could-have-been Sage) was not invited. The Gerudo are in disgrace and there have been whisperings of a war with them in vengeance for what their King could have done.
It is her fault that they are hated so. What their King did is not an indicator for all of them and if Link is to be believed (he always is, he is always truthful to her, each other’s closest ally and confidant) they were brainwashed by witches, immoral scoundrels that they are. Her father will retire after the coronation, ceding the throne to his daughter and son-in-law. Zelda hopes that she can argue a case for the Gerudo Tribe’s continued existence against a military commander. They are not known to be particularly caring towards a former enemy.
Link is not there. He is not important enough in this timeline to be included. Zelda had begged her father to let him attend, if only because he’s her best friend, even if he is seated right at the back of the church but apparently Sir Gash, the Commander of the Hylian Army – the highest role in the military – would be jealous of a lowly knight who spends most of his time dungeon-crawling and tending to horses to allow his bride’s best friend to attend their wedding.
Zelda wishes Link was here. He may not have other versions of himself across the other timelines but he has existed – lived – in one of them, though he may be dead in the other he understands being confused about themselves better than anyone. Zelda would never tell him that, though, that he died in one timeline for it is not his place nor is it necessary for Link to carry any more guilt than he already does. He often goes silent at the thought of his travels and Sheik often wonders if he has seen things beyond what even he – she – sees.
Nevertheless, Zelda wishes she could share what she has seen in both of the other timelines with someone but people would think their princess was insane, or worse, overly emotional. Because how dare a living being have emotions beyond mild annoyance past the age of ten!
Maybe this ability he wields is a curse from the goddesses, or the Goddess, to see what could have been but never will anymore. The other Sheiks are stressed and the last of their line but they are free to build, to choose and to love more than he ever will.
Or maybe it is simply a by-product of a plan she could never understand and nobody with the power to prevent such a curse cared enough about him to prevent it.
The priest is droning on about how “this marriage shall be blessed by the Goddess who smiles upon those who carry her blood” which is probably inaccurate since similar passages and legends tell of a Goddess who cares for all Her people, not just her descendants. Or maybe it is correct. Or maybe it doesn’t matter. Either way, the main part of the ceremony is almost over and she has to be focused for this part. (Where had the time gone? Did she slip back into the timelines, or is he reminiscing about times that weren’t hers in the first place?)
“Do you, Sir Gash of the noble House of Buckshee,” the priest says, taking a deep breath to continue talking without wheezing. “Take the Princess Zelda from the Kingdom of Hyrule as your wife under the Statue of the Goddess Hylia?”
Sir Gash smiles a toothy grin. “Indeed I do.” He attempts to glance at her, but Zelda keeps her eyes forward.
The priest nevertheless continues. “And do you, Princess Zelda from the Kingdom of Hyrule take Sir Gash of the House of Buckshee as your husband under the Statue of the Goddess Hylia?”
“Indeed I do.”
“Then may we all kneel and pray for the marriage done in the Goddess’s name and thank Her for this union.”
The entire church fusses and shoves each other to kneel down on the hard surface. Even Zelda’s father does though his knees nearly give out halfway through. The floorboards creek under the weight of what Zelda suspects to be Darunia which causes Sheik – Zelda – to wonder how long this church will last past her time if it is already struggling with so many people.
As Zelda kneels at the alter and closes her eyes he wonders if this is what being a princess is about. To go through long ceremonies and loveless marriages at the bequest of a King uncaring about his daughter’s wishes. She remembers that her mother used to tell her stories about princesses and princes in the past who married who they wished because the army stayed loyal to a monarchy who cared and provided for them rather than going to war against their brother as his father had done over a crown that did not care for them or represent the blood of a Goddess who no longer appeared to her people are the myths foretold she would. They didn’t have to marry the Commander of their own army to keep control of said army that meant to protect them and their people at any cost.
Maybe he was not meant for this timeline, or maybe this timeline was not meant to exist. He probably shouldn’t think this under the Statue of the Goddess but…he can’t help but think that although this is the timeline best for Hyrule, it is not the best timeline for him – her. She is a her, not a him. Her father says so and as King what he says goes. Hyrule has a princess, not a prince.
Zelda finds herself pulled from her thoughts and dragged to her feet with a pair of lips smashed against hers.
“I now pronounce you man and wife!” the priest shouts to the cheers of the crowd.
Hyrule now has a princess and a prince consort. Zelda stands and faces her people, wishing that someone here could understand what she’s going through. The knowledge brought upon her by beings vastly more powerful than he through an ancient artefact she himself had never wielded and yet still felt the effects of because another him from another timeline had wielded it. She feels a surge of emotion through her – pity? Sadness? – and looks away from the happy faces.
A movement from the window catches her attention. A flash of green partially hidden by the summer trees. The blond boy around her age and yet not waves at her.
Zelda smiles. Link may not know of her curse and she will never tell him. But he is still be there for him, in this timeline at least.