Chapter Text
Zelda had never left the castle before. She was simply too young.
But now? She was still too young to leave the castle and see the kingdom proper. And yet here she was, a journey away from the comfort and safety of the castle walls, only the extravagant mahogany and plush cushions of the carriage secluding her from the outside world. It didn’t keep her from peeking through the small slit in the curtains, watching the grass steadily turn to bare rock and stone.
Her books lay forgotten on her lap and the seat next to her, open to a page she could not remember the contents of. She hadn’t gotten very far in her studies on the journey, the outside capturing her attention in ways that simple words on paper couldn’t quite hold. They had started to blur together around the same time the carriage crossed what sounded like a small stone bridge from the way the hooves of the horse pulling the carriage clopped.
She didn’t quite remember what had even caught her attention. Just that it had, and this was the result. Watching the landscape rattle on by from the tiny slit in the curtains that kept her shrouded in a veil of safety.
The grass back in the castle courtyard was neatly trimmed and maintained, all a uniform shade of green and decorated with meticulously chosen flowers and decorative bushes. Out here? The grass grew unchecked, dotted with wildflowers and a few oddly shaped weeds from time to time.
The landscape was stunningly beautiful.
“Bored, Zelda?”
The princess only gave a startled twitch, adjusting the book in her lap so it wouldn’t fall. “A little. How much farther do we have to go?”
Her father pulled aside the curtain, flooding the carriage with the dying light of the setting sun. He shut them again after a moment, shadows swallowing the momentary glittering of gold and shimmering of jewels. “Quite a ways. That’s why you were told to bring your studies with you. The full journey will keep you away from the castle for perhaps a little under a week,”
Zelda shifted her gaze to her book, turning the page without really seeing the words. “Then why couldn’t they come to us? Wouldn’t it be better to have them come to the castle instead?”
“Yes, but it’s time you saw more of your kingdom and its people. Your mother was about your age when she went to see the kingdom,” he said.
Zelda knew that, her mother had told her plenty of stories about when she had been just a princess. Zelda still thought herself too young to be journeying around Hyrule, she was barely strong enough to string a bow on her own yet.
Though something was telling her she needed to. A familiar feeling, not unlike the one she had when reading the legends of heroes and princesses long past. Some struck the cord more strongly than others.
A sigh left her, finally trying to refocus her attention back to her book. She went back a few pages, she’d lost the spot where she’d left off last, and did not feel like restarting the entire chapter over. She curled up in her seat, sinking into the plush material to read the thick tome her tutor had assigned her. Or try to anyway.
That nagging feeling at the back of her mind made it more difficult than it should’ve been.
That feeling got… worse? Better? The feeling certainly didn’t go away like she’d hoped, the closer they got to their destination. The carriage had stopped now, the princess becoming highly aware that her current dress was not meant for the sheer dampness of Zora’s Domain. Her shoes slipped every so often on the watery, intricately engraved pathway, forcing her to abruptly take her father’s hand each time it happened.
She was grateful for the support, the mist of the waterfall coating every surface near it, creating the land's most natural slide for anyone without proper footwear. Including herself most of all.
The throne room was a similar story. While the dampness did not quite coat every surface, the center pool giving way to the waterfall outside more than made up for it, the very last rays of light fading as the sun sank below the horizon. Torches had been lit, bathing the room in a warm light to chase away the dark.
The throne the Zora stood guard by was empty, the queen had retired to the aforementioned pool, almost completely submerged in the water. She looked kind. A little sad, but at peace.
Something deep in her chest hurt, the young princess had to suddenly blink away a dampness in her eyes. She hoped no one noticed her wiping at her eyes.
The queen spoke quietly with her father, very few words exchanged before the conversation seemed to end and both rulers turned to the young girl. Her father knelt briefly, resting a hand on her shoulder.
Ah, right. This was the part where she had to say goodbye.
“Do you have to leave?” she asked instead. The king squeezed her shoulder, pulling a small handkerchief from one of his many pockets to wipe her eyes. She hadn’t realized tears were threatening to fall again.
“I do. You’re in good hands, you have nothing to be afraid of. You’ll be home again before you realize it, my dear.” he said, setting the cloth into her hands. “You can tell me all about your adventure when you get back.”
Zelda clutched the handkerchief tightly, holding back a sniffle. “Like in the stories?”
“Just like in the stories.”
The princess nodded, wiping at her eyes once more. She took a deep breath before she felt okay enough to speak again. “Alright.”
And that was it. The king left without her, back the way they had come. While she was not technically alone, the Zora queen and her guards would never dare to leave her unattended, she felt more alone than before.
The queen was closer to the edge of the pool now, a hand offered to the much tinier princess. “Come sit, rest awhile. The walk up to my domain is tiring for one so small, I’m sure.”
She shuffled closer, hesitantly placing her hand in the queen’s outstretched one. Sitting on damp stone was not quite as comfortable as she had hoped, but it was better than standing all night.
The queen was… kind. Like her mother had been. She seemed genuinely interested in Zelda’s studies, asking questions and even helping the little princess with the more difficult words she couldn’t quite understand just yet. They sat like that for a long while, books spread out over the driest parts of the stone floor, the bag she carried them in set aside. Maybe the journey would not be so bad after all, if everyone she encountered helped her with the hard words.
Eventually, the sun had set far past the horizon. Zelda’s studies with the queen’s help had been interrupted only for dinner, a portion prepared specifically for the little Hylian. The princess could barely keep her eyes open after that. Even sleeping on the cold stone seemed possible now.
So tired was the princess, she barely registered being lifted. Or being gently placed into something wooden that rocked gently in time with the sound of the water in the pool. It was much more comfortable than the floor, whatever it was. A cloth was draped over her, large hands gently tucking it around her shoulders.
The domain was calm, serene. Everything felt safe, only the ambient sound of the nearby waterfall filled the air.