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I stand guard over a heavy wooden door, the Princess residing behind it. I settle down in front of the doorway to play with some dice, given to me by my father, a distant memory of my old, simple life. Before I pulled out the master sword and was appointed to protect her. Though the Princess is not fond of me, as she often lashes out at me whenever given the opportunity. I do not mind, enduring it as I admire her. Even if my presence is never appreciated, I cannot help it. She has sun-kissed locks made of the smoothest silk, perfect like a harp's string, and eyes made of the finest emeralds the Goddess has ever crafted. Her skin is as smooth as porcelain. Her face is made up of strokes put down by an angelic painter, every curve of her face is intentional and perfect. Though a light frown and disapproving eyes are all she ever seems to spare me.
The door creaks open and I look up to be greeted by a pair of verdant green eyes, though they quickly turn dark and mossy when they meet mine. Her eyes narrow with resentment; I feel saddened by this, though I manage to keep myself from showing any emotion, giving the illusion that I am stoic. She should not be out of her bed chambers yet or even awake at this hour. She pushes the door further. I stand up and wait for her to speak, to bark orders at me, or to ignore me completely. I am simply grateful she even looks in my direction.
“Sir Knight, I am going to the library. Do not follow,” she says the last part firmly. Her voice is as sweet as a lyre’s tunes, even when filled with bitterness. My mouth twitches, wanting to let words escape, but I swallow them down and nod. I do not follow her orders, though.
She steps out of her chambers, quietly closing the door behind her. She is wearing her sleeping gown, soft and spun from the finest cotton money can buy. She walks, as I follow five paces behind. If she is annoyed with me, she does not show it; I wonder whether I prefer it this way. We walk down the dark, colourless corridor before stopping at her desired door. I am instructed to stand outside and watch guard. Isn’t that what I was born to do? Stand and watch. Waiting for danger, waiting for orders. Waiting for anything from her.
We walk back to her sleeping chamber; she is holding two books, though I do not know what they are about. The moon shines his light on the Princess; even without colour she is as beautiful as the flowers that sleep in the royal garden. I am almost grateful nobody is around, only I may bask in her glow. She opens the door to her chambers and turns to me.
“Goodnight, Sir Knight,” she says dismissively, like even acknowledging my existence leaves a sour taste in her mouth. I simply nod and watch her retreat to privacy. I fell asleep in front of her door that night, with no recollections of when or how I was moved back to my sleeping quarter when I was awakened the next morning by the gentle sun.
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The Princess stares out her window at the large robotic machines. They are called the Guardians from what I have overheard from a conversation she had with Purah. They resemble an octopus with their long tentacles, though they are much bigger than the average Hylian house. I have brought her food, an omelette recipe my mother taught me as a child; I find myself always trying to ingratiate myself with her, in hopes she will like me more. She has not left her chamber since the argument with her father. Her father does not recognize everything she has given up finding her power. Her chest heaves silent sobs, she hugs herself like she will slip out of her body if she does not. I clear my throat, and she finally looks at me and what I have brought for her.
“Thank you, but I am not hungry,” she tries to sound cold and distant, but the small quiver in her voice confutes her words. I place the plate on her desk, atop some books about the Guardians. Even though her father has forbidden her from ‘playing’ scholar, she is not. She is so passionate about the world around her and everything there is to learn. He is trying to rob the joy out of her life, at least that is what I think. I sit on the edge of her bed. If she wants me to leave, then she does not say so. She looks down at her notes, and then at me.
The Princess is envious of me, is what Urbosa told me once when she was sleeping in Gerudo Town from a long day of surveying. Of course, Urbosa would know, she is like the mother the Princess never had. I am a reminder of her failures, these words hurt me more than any wound could. She truly believes she is a failure, but this is simply untrue. She is worth a hundred of me, if not more. She is clever and knowledgeable; my worth comes from nothing but a sword. Urbosa senses this, she says my silence speaks volumes and wakes the Princess after a few moments of silence pass. (She did so with a lightning bolt, which was not considerate of the Princess, nor the normal townspeople). However, when she was awakened, she did not seem unhappy to see me like she usually does. Her eyes had a softness to them, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment that had me chasing after it ever since I laid eyes on it.
She does not speak to me; she just writes in her journal notes on the Guardians. When she begins to struggle to keep her eyes open to study further, she simply dismisses me from her sleeping chambers. I nod and walk to the door, hoping she will stop me. I pray to the gods to help me resist the urge to halt and give in to my suppressed desires. I want to kiss her goodnight, to hold her as I whisper sweet nothings into her hair, and to tell her every single thought I have kept hidden behind my lips up until this point. But the gods hear my pleas. As I walk towards the door I catch a glimpse of the omelette, there has been a bite taken out of it. When did that happen? Did she enjoy it? Should I make it more often? But regardless of what the answer to those questions may be, I still feel little fireworks of joy go off in my chest. I pretend I have not noticed it and resume to my quarters with my head held a little higher than usual.
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The Princess has been praying in the Spring of Wisdom since sunrise. The waters are freezing by now, yet she is still standing there and muttering. I watch her from the shore, I have fed the horses their dinner earlier and have been waiting for the Princess to finish praying. She does not seem to plan on stopping anytime soon. She is more or so begging for something. Suddenly, there is a splash.
“Please just tell me.” She cries, “What is it? What is wrong with me?!” Her voice quivers, and glass shatters in my chest. No matter how much she prays, her power will not be awakened, and everything she says falls on deaf ears. It is like the gods wish to punish her for something out of her control. My arm twitches, wanting to reach out and hold her. Nothing, I think. Nothing is wrong with you, I love you, you are perfect, and I am sorry are words that beg to be freed from my throat. I stay as reticent and motionless as the statue the Princess stands before, and she continues to pray; whatever she says I cannot hear.
Moments have passed since her outcry, and there is movement in the water. I am ripped away from my thoughts to see she has moved towards the statue. She sobs. One hand digs into the flesh of her arm as if to comfort herself while the other lays on the bottom of the unmoving figure. The water is sharp and unkind, and her praying dress is soaked barely providing any warmth. I walk in to retrieve her, not caring when my uniform clings to my skin and water seeps into my leather boots. She looks at me with glassy eyes and an unwell expression.
“What is it that is wrong with me? Tell me! You are so perfect, surely you would know?” Her whole body is wracked with tremors as she stares at me, waiting for an answer. But I think again: nothing is wrong with her. She is as heavenly as the morning glow, but her father has plagued her mind with self-hatred and doubt. If she has not awakened her power then she is worth nothing, that is what she believes.
It is time to leave the spring, Your Highness , I sign to her, I should have gotten her out sooner. We are at the peak of Mount Lanayru, the Akkala nights are sharp and merciless, and she is soaked to the bone. She shakes her head, cowering herself away from me as if I were a wolf snapping its jaw and she is my next meal. My heart has been crushed to a sour wine; she thinks I will hurt her like her father has. I stay still.
“ No , I have not prayed enough. If I do not pray enough, how will I be fixed?” She shouts. Hot blotchy tears roll down her red cheeks, “If I cannot even do this, how will I seal the calamity? I am nothing but a failure princess, even my father says so.” My chest tightens at her statement, how can she think of herself so lowly? She is the stars in the sky, the cool summer breeze, and the sun I guard with my sword. I repress these thoughts into the darkest dungeon of my mind and just carry her out of the spring. She trashed in my grasp, crying and screaming at me. “How could you ever understand!? Let me go this instant, I command you!” She tugs at my hair causing prickles of pain to assault my scalp like a storm of arrows as she tries to slip out of my arms, I keep my grip gentle but firm.
The Princess no longer resists me and just lays limp in my arms, her teeth clatter and she shrivels up against the cold. I set her down gently by the fire I started when the sun began to set, and retrieved thick blankets, to help her replenish her warmth. She simply hugs her knees, staring into the passionate dance of the embers before her. I walk to my horse, preparing to make a stew for tonight's dinner.
I slowly stir the pot as the Princess lays against a log. I have changed out of my soaked guard outfit, replacing it with a simple himation. She tries to hide the fact she is looking at the two surgical scars under my breasts, but I am quick to catch her before she can rip her gaze from the bareness of my skin. Her cheeks flush red with embarrassment, though I do not mind this; it is simply a part of me. I pour the meat stew into a wooden bowl as if I never noticed her staring and push it in her direction.
“I am not hungry,” she says simply. I know this is not true because she has not eaten since she entered the spring. This meal will warm her and replenish her energy, that is why I made it. I push the bowl towards her again. Her eyes furrow, but she stays still. I move towards her, putting the bowl to her lips.
“Drink, please,” I say, my throat is hoarse from disuse. The Princess’s eyes widen, I usually refrain from using my voice, unless the situation is dire. She begrudgingly complies with my request. The corner of my lips slightly curls as I pour some stew for myself. When I look back at her, the bowl patiently sits on the grass, and she is asleep. She looks so peaceful, like all her misery has been forgotten, or never existed. I am almost scared to breathe, scared to make her wake up and rip her out of this moment of tranquility. I move regardless, drinking the rest of the stew and cleaning the utensils, scouting for more wood for the fire and feeding the horses a snack before they rest. I sit down beside her and let my drowsiness wash over me.
She does not speak of the night before; she does not speak to me at all. I am four paces behind her. Waiting for her next glance, my next order. Waiting for something, anything. I simply push down my selfish desires and we continue with our journey.
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The Princess has gone off and I do not know where, I am frantically searching for her. Why has she gone off without me? Who will protect her? I hear a cry, belonging to no other than the Princess. I rush to follow where the sound came from, and as I draw near, I hear the high-pitched laughs of the Yiga clan’s members. Luckily before any harm is done, I swing one of their sickles out of its hand before it can hurt her, killing it in the process. I am standing between them and the Princess. The other two soon run off, knowing they are no match for me. I turn back to the Princess; she is unharmed which I am grateful for. She looks at me with an unfamiliar softness on her features before standing up, brushing the dirt off her leggings.
“Sir Knight! Just because you are the chosen hero does not mean you are invincible!” She scolds, but there is a sense of playfulness in this. Compared to her previous yelling that was littered with hostility. I stare at her, taken aback by the change in demeanor towards me; I could get used to this new side of her. “Well? Are you hurt?” She asks, examining me for any broken skin, and relaxes when she cannot find any.
She gets up and begins to walk, I follow three paces behind her. A gap has been filled between us, but I am not complaining.
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We are in the outskirts of Hyrule, and the Princess is telling me about silent princesses. They are her favourite flower and endangered as well. The flowers symbolize endless love, they are also good in elixirs. I listen to her intently, soaking in every word she says and repeating it in my mind. She seems so happy when she is studying or rambling about a certain topic. Suddenly, she lunges forward to catch something I cannot see.
“Is that really what it is?! Look at this!” Her voice is high and giddy, she turns back to me with her hands clasped together. “I don't believe it, but I actually caught one!” I tilt my head, confused at what she obscures from me. She shuffles closer to me.
“This delicacy is known to have very, very potent effects under the proper circumstances.” She smiles widely. What could she have caught that is small enough for her to clasp in her hands, yet be edible? A bug? I lean closer to find some more clues, but there is no need for that. She opens her hands to reveal... a frog?! “Tah-dah!” She says eagerly. She moves closer to admire the amphibian.
“Research from the castle shows ingesting one of these can augment certain abilities.” She shuffles closer to me; she wants something with those shining puppy eyes. She continues, “We wouldn’t have a controlled environment out here and with your level of physical fitness—You'd be a perfect candidate for this study!” She pushes the frog towards me, she is ecstatic now.
“Go on!” she shuffles closer, pushing the frog right in my face. “Taste it!” I shuffle backward, taken aback by the suddenness of her proposal. I fall backwards, tripping on a rock and she laughs at me. “Silly knight!”
Her laugh is the most exquisite delicacy my ears could ever feast upon, she is slowly opening herself to me. I have also been doing the same. I could have never imagined having to experience her warmth outside of fleeting moments. I am content with what we have, I would protect it with my life just as I have protected her time and time again.
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The entire kingdom of Hyrule is in ruins, the guardians have turned on the Hylian people. The sky is muddy and red, destruction surrounds us all. I run from all the chaos, holding the Princess’s hand. Her white dress is muddied, dirt streaks mixed with salty tears dirty her face. Suddenly, she slips, and I quickly run back to where she sits.
“How...” She stares at the ground, not caring that the mud is getting under her nails. Sheathing my sword, I kneel to try and meet her eye. “How did it come to this? The divine beasts... the guardians... They are all against us...” The rain beats down at us as if trying to make us collapse and allow the earth to consume us. “It was... Calamity Ganon.” She balls her fists as if to grab onto something, to hold onto the thinnest strand of hope she had left. “It turned them all against us!” She slowly looks up at me, her eyes are so dull and full of sorrow. “Everyone—Mipha, Urbosa, Revali and Daruk... They are all trapped inside those things .” She stares at me, searching my eyes for any sign of emotion, any response, anything.
“It’s all my fault!” Her shoulders tense, and her hands cover her face. “Our only hope for defeating Ganon is lost , all because I couldn’t harness this cursed power!” She sobs. I am itching to do something. To wipe her tears, to just do something so she will stop blaming herself. “ Everything —everything I have done up until now... It was all for nothing. ” Her head shoots up at me, there is anger in her eyes. Not at me, but at herself for being so useless, for not unlocking her sealing powers quick enough, for being a failure of a princess, unable to protect her own people. “So, I really am just a failure!” She yells she has convinced herself this is true. I feel a familiar prang in my chest when she says this. She continues, “All my friends... the entire kingdom... my father most of all...” She stares at the soaked earth beneath us, then up at the crying sky. “I tried. I have failed them all .” More tears run down her face and her voice cracks as she realizes something she has not accepted yet.
“I’ve left them... all to die .” A soul-shattering cry comes from her as she sobs more, this is her reality. She leans forward and buries her face in my chest, I hold her in a protective embrace. Temporarily shielding her from all the horrors she has seen, from the heavy rain, from any danger she will ever encounter. She lays limp, crying as I gently stroke her matted, wet hair. Even now it is shining brighter than any gold humankind has laid eyes upon.
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We are running again; smoke is engraved in the air, accompanied by pinkish embers waltzing in the sky. A result of everything that has been torn to pieces out of nothing but malice.
I am kneeling, tired, and out of breath. The princess begs, “Save yourself! Go ! I will be fine! Do not worry about me.” How can I not worry about you? You are the reason I have a purpose; you are my muse, you are the air in my lungs, and you are the blood that puts life into my body. I would give up everything just for you to be happy. “ Run !” She screams at me, I use my sword to push myself up, stumbling backwards a bit. I will protect her, or I will die trying. A guardian spots us and rushes to us, its metallic tentacles bringing itself closer to me, closer to us . It is much bigger than us. I am so small and pathetic compared to it, yet I still prepared myself to fight it. Suddenly, a vibrant red dot is aimed at my head, and I am suddenly pushed. The Princess ‘s hand emits a blinding yellow light; she has done it. She has unlocked her powers; I weakly smile as I realize this.
All the Guardians fall to the ground, and I follow. I am so fragile in this state; I am practically half dead. The Princess rushes to my side.
“No, no , get up!” She frantically shakes my tired body. Holding me by the back of my head, hands threading through my dirtied, tawny locks. I cough red, and her eyes widen with anxiety. “You’re going to be just fine,” she whispers into my temple, sounding like she is trying to convince herself rather than me. I use all the energy I have left in myself to look at her, just one last glance. I just want to see her one last time. Darkness swallows me whole as I slowly feel my body shutting down. The last thing I think is Princess, Princess, Princess, you will be alright . I swear on it.
The Princess sobs into my still chest, holding my corpse so tightly I am afraid my bones will be crushed to a fine powder. She brushes the sticky tufts of hair out of my face and kisses my forehead. She croons into my lifeless corpse as if it would bring me back. I must admit, I regret not speaking to her more, not telling her everything I have kept hidden in my mind. I regret thinking there would be more time, but I do not regret meeting her, and I do not regret all the time I have spent by her side.
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In another life, they could have just been Zelda and Link. In another life, they would descend into the afterlife together, fingers intertwined with the others. But in this life, they are simply Princess and Hero. The next time he sees her is in a hundred years. He will have forgotten everything he has ever loved about her, and she will be a dragon in the sky; losing herself, nothing more than a husk of her human identity. Yet, they will continue to yearn for the other as the sun and moon yearn for each other's presence.
Whatever happens, he will always look for her, to protect her, and to stay with her. He will never falter at this. At last, he understood why this is—why she is his calling.