Chapter Text
The life of an attendant to the Crown Princess of Hyrule was a simple one, with little diversion and plenty of routine. Odyne knew this first-hand and relished the opportunity to maintain a stable and comfortable station, especially when her role as attendant was regarded as equally as important to the knights that encircled the castle grounds and weaved through the halls. The same common goal, to protect Princess Zelda, the very symbol of peace and diplomacy within the Kingdom of Hyrule, was shared amongst all the staff of Hyrule Castle. For Odyne, whose duty was to stay at the side of the Regent, she especially revelled in this regard.
Today, however, would not carry the same lofty and grand sensibilities that Odyne would envision herself to live up to. Odyne was set to complete her morning housekeeping duties; laundering of the Princess’ casual and horse-riding attire from the previous day (while on an outing to Hyrule Field within the Lanayru Province, Zelda had unintentionally guided her steed into a puddle comparable to the size of Lake Hylia, much to Odyne’s amusement), tidying of the royal suites and staff accommodations, and spot cleaning any noticeable scuffs and scrapes from the floors and skirting.
Odyne had woken up earlier than she was used to, making her way to the washroom down in the kitchen in the early morning haze. Her quarters were situated below the Princess’ in the south-easternmost spire of the castle, which meant that the dawn would immediately shine straight toward Odyne’s line of sight as she paced briskly down the spiral staircase toward the ground floor. As the bright sun obscured her vision, she made sure to place her hand on the ageing stone walls as she descended, to guide her down without accident or injury.
Upon making it safely down the footfall-worn staircase, she passed through the main hall of the castle, a grand, ornate room with golden finishing and chandeliers, and creamy white, satiny walls, with their pearlescent hue made richer and inviting by the flickering light of candelabras that surrounded the room. She made extra care to not scuff the black and white marble flooring, which had been scrubbed and polished to a tee by servants the night before. The floors seemed even more luminescent than ever before, almost comparable to the untouched surfaces of the Temple of Time – so Odyne thought, remembering the tales of pilgrimages made by the most devout of worshippers. Carefully, she padded her way toward the kitchen and cellar on the far side of the ballroom, dodging servants, and the head chef, who rushed and clattered about, trying to make up the time toward the breakfast bell. Exchanges were made of "excuse me"s, "thank you"s and "watch it, lady"s were made in an attempt to pass through the chaos of the kitchen and pantry.
Finally, after some barging and tripping, Odyne had made it to the cellar, where the main washbasins and racks were located. With a heavy sigh, yawn, and crack of her back, Odyne got to work sorting through the laundry, organising by fabric type and purpose. While it wasn’t completely necessary for this amount of organisation, Odyne preferred her methods, repeating mantras in her head to ensure that what she was doing was good enough.
While these menial tasks weren’t the most glamorous, Odyne enjoyed them all the same, using the time alone to hum or sort out the day’s agenda in her head, free from distractions from advisors and other servants. Today, after the cleaning, she was to aid the Princess’ Advisors settle financial disputes concerning her Royal Coronation, scheduled for the next month. Odyne frowned at the prospect of having to deal with that group of doddery old men, who were far too stubborn and set in tradition to compromise with more reasonable arrangements for the event, such as letting commoners be allowed to view the ceremony in some capacity, of which Princess Zelda had expressed an interest in allowing for her coronation.
Odyne had also welcomed the idea, reasoning to the jury of advisors that it would allow the population of Castle Town to become more involved with the celebrations, adding that it would be an unforgettable historic event for the common people to be allowed to see their new Queen as opposed to just hearing about it. This was met with opposition from the Royal Advisors, with their typical spiel of forgetting tradition, the King would not have allowed it, etcetera. One Advisor in particular, Senzoh, would have a bright red nose and ears from Odyne’s very suggestion, adding in a breath that only a Gerudo would have such fanciful ideas. Odyne and Zelda would exchange a look after the meeting, and privately chuckle to themselves. Odyne herself would also have flushed, at the notion that her heritage would have such an effect on her choices for celebration.
It was known by many of the higher-ups within the castle, alongside select members of staff, that the Princess’ lady-in-waiting was half-Gerudo. It was a rarity for any of the warrior race to be seen in Hyrule at all, let alone in such high status, especially due to the events surrounding the execution of their leader, who had planned to stage a coup against the King of Hyrule, around one-hundred years ago. The event had driven the Gerudo race to exile, scorned by the rest of the Hyrulean population. Small pockets of the Gerudo population had decided to stay in hiding within the kingdom, until they eventually died out over the next century, their prowess for living in much harsher conditions serving them as a detriment in more temperate climates. Odyne’s own mother had died young and had left her in the care of her father, a Hylian Knight named Lerin. As Odyne had grown to inherit many of her father’s traits, like her golden hair and more soft, round features, she managed to pass well as a Hylian, and integrated with noble life in the Palace. However, if one studied her closely enough, they would notice the golden yellow flecks in her eyes, the glistening red shine of her hair in the sun, and her subtly brown tanned skin.
Her identity was largely a secret kept from many servants in the castle, and the rest of the public, which suited Odyne just fine. She considered herself Hylian in all respects but was still conscious of her heritage, and despite her not having an issue, the rest of society would. Even so, she was well respected by the castle staff, and her father, until his death in combat, was well-liked by his company and the royals, prompting her promotion to a lady-in-waiting to Princess Zelda, who she had grown to respect in the years they had grown up together. In turn, Odyne had proven herself to be a trustworthy and loyal companion to the Princess, which led to her currently sorting through her wardrobe and sleeping quarters to this day.
As Odyne finished cleaning the Princess’ chambers, she heard a great calamity of panicked shouting and arguing by the Royal Advisors. Frowning even harder than she had before, she collected herself and exited the bedroom to settle the squabble.
“What on earth is the meaning of this shouting? At this time of morning?” Odyne gestured to the grand clock in the hallway, not quite striking halfway through the morning hours.
“Have you not heard, milady?” one Advisor, Quinud, trembled, “The morning watch have seen something terrible! Oh, heavens,” he faded out, stumbling as Advisor Moca caught him.
“What is it? Quickly, before I become annoyed by you for the umpteenth time,” Odyne replied, hands on hips.
“An invasion,” Advisor Senzoh continued, his nasal tone emphasised by the anxiety in his voice, “There’s an army marching toward the castle!” the rest of the Advisors gasped as if hearing this for the first time, holding each other’s arms as if they were tree branches in an avalanche.
“What?!” Odyne was aghast at the very thought of an entire army storming the castle. She began to shake but attempted to keep her cool. She sighed shakily, and spoke again, “Alright, where is the Princess?”
“She’s in her throne room, milady,” Quinud quivered, “She has asked for you to be at her side as soon as you can.” Odyne paused to collect her thoughts. She couldn’t imagine why on earth she would want a mere lady-in-waiting to stand guard as the castle was invaded, but she couldn’t let her princess down.
“Right. I’ll go now.” She threw her cleaning apparatus at the nearest advisor and began to hurriedly pace to the throne room. “See that you hide yourselves and keep calm!” She shouted back to the Advisors, who stood trembling in the halls growing smaller and smaller as she started to run. As she started to sprint down the dimly lit halls, frantically clutching her long skirts, she could begin to hear loud thumping from the lower floors and shouts from soldiers and guards attempting to barricade the entrances to the castle. After running a few moments more, she heard an ear-splitting bang and crack as the once-sturdy doors splintered and cracked, closely followed by the anguished screams of the fallen and wounded. Snarls of unseen creatures emanated from the main ballroom, as did the clashing of swords. Whatever had broken in sounded sinister, unfeeling, and dangerous, but, as tired as she was, Odyne pushed herself further on, trying to forget both the searing pain from her leg muscles, and the terror-filled screams of those below. Adrenaline pushed her onward toward the heavy wooden door leading to the spire that would lead further on to the throne room, and Odyne lunged for it, forcing it open with her sheer strength coupled with her running momentum. She stumbled as she turned back around to lock the door behind her, and not long after, she heard crashing from the other side. They had arrived upstairs.
Odyne had to stop for a moment to catch her breath, staying as silent as she could, lest the creatures, things, whatever they were, heard her. Fortunately, after a few, long moments, it seemed that they hadn’t heard her slams. It wouldn’t be long until they found her, however, so she had to move immediately. Odyne started to climb, holding onto the walls, the bannister, anything to grasp before she collapsed.
There was a sick, dense fog of uncertainty and dread in the air, seeping into Odyne’s lungs with every raggedy breath, twisting and squeezing her insides until anxiety would take hold in her very heart and soul. As she ascended the spire, up towards the throne room, the feeling grew stronger in the pit of her stomach. The weather seemed to reflect the sudden energy shift. The sky was still sunny, but dark, greenish clouds had begun to swirl outside, giving everything a sickly yellow hue. Odyne suddenly lurched and tripped upon a step, gasping as she felt for a ledge to hold onto before she somersaulted back down the staircase. Thankfully, she grasped the ornate bannister in time, and slowly pulled herself up. Her heartbeat pounded in her neck and eardrums as if it would explode out of her, but she couldn’t stop now. Zelda was upstairs, potentially in danger. She had to keep going.
After dusting her dress off, she continued dutifully up the stairs to the double doors that led to the throne room. After stopping to breathe for a moment, she summed up the strength to open the heavy doors. Giving credit to her Gerudo genes, she managed to open them with little effort, but still panted as she closed them behind her. After pausing for a moment, she took a moment to listen to the surroundings. All was quiet. Too quiet, save for the distant rumbling of storm clouds. She briskly walked up the staircases leading up to the open-plan throne room, and as she approached the chamber, she held up her arms, signalling to anyone inside that she would be of no threat. The clang of metal echoed around the hall, from soldiers pointing their weapons to the door, and from the clashing of armour, alerting the princess to the visitor. Despite the distance from the archway to the throne, the Princess had worked out who it was and called out to her.
“Odyne!” Princess Zelda started, surprised to see another familiar face.
“Milady!” Odyne cried.
Odyne rushed to her side, curtsying as she normally would. Zelda raised her hand to signal no danger to the guards, who stood down as they recognised the lady in waiting. Odyne clasped her other hand into her two, warmed by the blood and adrenaline pumping through her body. Zelda’s, by comparison, was cold even through her silken glove. She was shaking subtly, always one to keep her nerve even in the most harrowing of situations.
“Milady, I thought you- no, forget what I thought, I’m so glad you’re alright!” Odyne gabbled, struggling to find the words for her relief at the sight of the princess. Zelda smiled sadly at her companion as she sat next to her on the central throne. Usually, anyone less than royalty would have been punished severely if even the very notion of sitting upon the thrones of Hyrule was entertained, but in this tense and frightening situation, no one paid any mind.
“And you, my friend.” Her warm gaze steeled as she turned to face the open expanse of the room. Despite being decorated with the most vibrant of blue velvet carpets, and with the towering protection of the most painstakingly carved statues of the three Golden Goddesses at their back, no one felt safe or comforted by the furnishings of the throne room. There were distant and muffled screams and shouts from far below the throne room, more likely than not toward who or whatever was invading. Everyone, both soldier and nobility alike, breathed shallowly and silently waited with dread as they waited for whatever would come their way. The guards stood as diligently as they could, but their nerves were visible as they stood shaking with their lances and spears in hand. Odyne’s face fell to her lap as she began to whisper frenzied prayers of protection and safeguarding to the goddesses at their backs. As she drew her head back up, she turned to the princess, who was staring intently before her.
Zelda looked as calm and collected as she usually did, but Odyne could see glints of apprehension and worry in her eyes. They had widened like a doe caught by a hunter, and this uncharacteristic fear signalled to the attendant that there was something wrong, something much bigger than them both. If she didn’t have gloves on, Odyne would have seen that her knuckles were stark white from the sheer force of her grip on her throne arms. Suddenly, a large black smoky cloud poured rapidly into the throne room and time seemed to stop for a moment. Then, the creatures poured in.
They were unlike anything Odyne had seen before. They were jet black, with a creeping lustre not too dissimilar to polished obsidian, and they lumbered about on all fours like wild animals. There were black shield-like objects where their heads could have been, and their bodies were streaked with grey and luminous pink symbols and shapes. Their long, hideous fingers matched the tentacle-like objects slithering from their helmet-heads, gesticulating and writhing unnaturally. Needless to say, Odyne was horrified. The guards ran to attack but were floored immediately by a powerful swing from one of the creatures. They were grabbed by the neck into a vice grip by their immense hands and slammed and thrown about as if they were dolls. Both Zelda and Odyne flinched as they stared at the massacre, wondering when their turn was next. Zelda stood and began to draw her silver rapier until a shadowy figure began to rise from the stairwell.
They were announced with the most bone-chilling noise imaginable, a cry from one of the creatures reminiscent of a bird of prey braying like a horse, hoarse, raspy and completely unnatural. They towered over the height of most Hylians thanks to their pyramidal helmet; a grotesque looking face with bulging eyes and a spiralling tongue. From the shoulders down, they were dressed in black robes accented with neon green and tendrils on the sleeves, not unlike their minions. On their chest was a faded red sash with intricate spiralling and geometric patterns, and their feet were enclosed in gold clogs, with menacing points and angles on their tips. In any other situation, Odyne may have admired this person’s attire, but she was intimidated more by the raw power that this figure exuded.
They marched down the throne room at an even, smooth pace that made Odyne’s skin crawl, with more of the foul creatures flanked either side. They stood a distance away from the princess and her guards and then began to speak.
“It is time for you to choose: surrender or die.” The voice was smooth and masculine. It reminded Odyne of how a snake would speak if it chose to – slithery, silky and dangerous all at the same time. “Oh yes, a question for all the land and people of Hyrule…” The figure sneered as he pointed his gaze to a guard that was being strangled by his minion, writhing and thrashing about for a chance to breathe. He sharply turned his gaze to the princess and continued, “Life? Or death?!”
The two guards shielding the princess turned to her for a response to the threat, and Odyne looked up reproachfully. Zelda’s gaze upon the figure was steely and unmoving, staring down the villain in a seemingly desperate attempt to intimidate him. Odyne could see the cogs turning in her head as she continued to stand her ground, hoping for any sign of resilience from the regent. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Zelda loosened her grip on her rapier, and let it drop to the floor, the clanging noise upon the stone floor ringing out in a defeated, loud silence. The kingdom of Hyrule had thus surrendered to this unknown and devastating force, and the sickly green clouds turned a dirty orange. The light from the world faded, and Hyrule was plunged into darkness.