Chapter Text
Hyrule Castle rose before me, its towering spires gleaming under the midday sun. I adjusted the satchel on my shoulder, feeling the weight of my journey settle deep in my chest. My crimson cloak billowed behind me as I stepped onto the grand bridge leading to the castle gates.
The guards at the entrance tensed at my approach. I could see it in their eyes—the wariness, the unspoken questions. A Gerudo in Hyrule was rare enough, but one with Hylian features? One carrying the blood of a man whose name was spoken only in hushed warnings?
I kept my face neutral, though my pulse quickened. This was my chance.
A knight in blue and silver stepped forward, eyes sharp as he scanned me from head to toe. His stance was rigid, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword.
"State your name and purpose," he commanded.
I met his gaze evenly. "Akira. I have come to serve as Princess Zelda's personal guard."
Silence stretched between us. His lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. Then, with a reluctant nod, he stepped aside, motioning for me to pass.
I exhaled softly, striding through the gates. The weight of my ambitions settled in my chest, but I would not let it slow me down. This was it—the beginning of something greater.
And I would not fail.
The castle halls were just as I remembered—vast, echoing, and lined with banners bearing the royal crest. Yet, despite their grandeur, they carried ghosts of the past. My chest tightened as I walked, memories pulling at the edges of my mind. I pushed them aside. I had a purpose here.
Reaching the throne room, I pressed my hands against the heavy doors and pushed them open. Princess Zelda sat at the far end, regal and composed, and beside her stood a golden-haired boy. My eyes narrowed slightly at him, but I kept my focus on the princess.
I stepped forward and bowed deeply. "My lady."
Zelda rose, her face breaking into a warm smile as the golden-haired boy followed her movements.
"My dear friend, Akira! It has been far too long," she beamed.
I straightened, returning her smile. "Yes, far too long, my lady. But I come to discuss something important with you."
I nodded toward the boy, a silent request for privacy. But he remained rooted at Zelda’s side, watching me carefully. My face flickered with annoyance.
"My lady, this is a matter best discussed in private," I said, motioning toward him.
Zelda nodded before turning to him. "You may leave us, Link. She means me no harm."
Link hesitated, his sharp blue eyes lingering on me for a moment before he reluctantly obeyed, stepping out and closing the door behind him.
I let out a quiet breath. "Thank you, my lady. I didn’t want prying ears overhearing us."
I hesitated before continuing. "As you know, my lineage is... complicated. You understand why I must be careful with who learns the truth. But that is why I have come—I wish to serve as your personal guard."
I studied Zelda’s face, unsure of how she would react.
Her expression softened. "My dear friend, I would love nothing more than to have you by my side," she said warmly. "And I would be honored for you to work alongside Link as well."
I clenched my jaw at Zelda’s words. Working alongside Link. Of course, it made sense—he was already her appointed knight, the so-called chosen hero—but the thought of it still irked me. He and I had always been at odds, an unspoken rivalry simmering between us. He didn’t trust me because of my father being Gannon. But truth be told, I wasn’t sure I trusted him either.
Still, I forced a nod. “If that is your wish, my lady, then I will abide by it.”
Zelda’s smile grew, though there was a flicker of something behind her eyes—concern, maybe. “I know it may not be easy, but I have faith in both of you. You and Link are among the most skilled warriors I know. Together, you will be unstoppable.”
I wasn’t sure if that was meant to reassure me or challenge me. Either way, I wasn’t about to back down.
Before I could respond, the throne room doors creaked open again. Link stepped back inside, his face unreadable. He must have been lingering just outside, waiting.
“The king has summoned you, Princess,” he said simply. His voice was calm, but I caught the way his gaze flickered toward me, as if he expected me to cause trouble.
Zelda sighed, casting me an apologetic look. “It seems duty calls.” She stepped forward, touching my arm lightly. “We will speak more later, Akira. In the meantime, feel free to get settled. This is your home now.”
I nodded, but as she turned to leave with Link at her side, I couldn’t help but watch them closely. The way he always hovered near her, always ready to step between her and a threat—it grated on me.
Because deep down, I knew he still saw me as Gannons daughter but I was going to prove him wrong.
I exhaled sharply and turned on my heel, striding out of the throne room. If I was going to prove myself as Zelda’s personal guard, then I needed to be ready. And if that meant dealing with Link?
So be it.
I made my way out of the throne room, my boots echoing against the polished stone floor as I headed toward my old chambers. The halls of Hyrule Castle felt both familiar and foreign, like a place frozen in time while I had changed beyond recognition.
As I walked, memories clawed their way to the surface—whispers behind my back, glares that burned into my skin. When the truth of my parentage was revealed, many had scorned me, treating me as if I carried the same darkness as my father. Some had even called for my exile—or worse, my execution. I had been just a child, yet their hatred had known no mercy.
But Lady Urbosa had been different.
She had looked at me and seen more than Ganon’s blood. Where others saw a threat, she saw potential. She had taken me in, training me in the ways of the Gerudo warriors, shaping me into a fighter, a leader—someone worthy of standing beside the princess of Hyrule. Without her, I might have become the very thing the people feared.
And now, after all these years, I had returned—not as a child cast aside, but as a warrior demanding her place.
I reached my door and hesitated for only a moment before pushing it open.
The scent of desert spices and aged wood filled the air, stirring something deep within me. It had been so long since I had set foot here, yet little had changed. Richly woven tapestries adorned the walls, their deep reds and golds mirroring the colors of the Gerudo. Rugs and pillows lay strewn across the floor in a carefully arranged chaos, just like my room back in Gerudo Town. It was a space meant for comfort, for conversation, for a warrior raised on the open sands rather than the cold stone halls of Hylian nobility.
I stepped inside, running my fingers over the embroidered fabric of a cushion. Urbosa had arranged all of this for me when I was a child, insisting that if I were to live in the castle, I would have a place that truly felt like home.
Back then, Zelda had been so excited to host me, eager to learn about Gerudo customs, to share secrets and stories in this very room. This place had been our sanctuary once, a retreat from our responsibilities.
But now, I was no longer a child, and the castle was no longer a home.
It was a battlefield, and I was here to claim my place in it.
I threw my bag onto the floor and collapsed onto my bed, exhausted from the long journey to the castle. All I wanted was sleep, but then a knock interrupted my peace. I groaned in annoyance and dragged myself out of bed, opening the door to find Link standing there.
"Can I help you?" I asked, my tone stiff. I wasn’t sure why he was here—I thought he was with Zelda. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clearly not eager to be there himself.
"Princess Zelda requests your presence for dinner," Link muttered before quickly turning and walking away.
"What was his deal?" I thought, irritation bubbling up. I shrugged it off, glancing around my room, then looking down at my dust-covered clothes. "Probably a good idea to change," I mused.
I dug through my bag to find something more fitting. At the top, my sickles lay there—unconventional weapons, but deadly and efficient in my hands. I set them aside before pulling out one of my traditional Gerudo outfits. It had been altered to fit me; I didn’t look like most Gerudo women, my Hylian mother’s frame shaping me differently. I wished I took after her more, but my face and skin had more of Ganon’s cruel likeness.
I looked into the mirror, my vibrant red hair falling over my shoulders, paired with piercing yellow eyes. No wonder people had trouble meeting my gaze; those eyes were a reminder of the great evil they belonged to. I shook my head, pushing the thought aside.
I quickly changed into the outfit—close-fitting red tunic, gold embroidery along the edges, a dark blue sash, and slim trousers for movement. Gold bracers decorated my arms, and sturdy boots protected my feet. A circlet rested on my forehead, a reminder of my roots. The outfit was a balance of practicality and unmistakably Gerudo.
I tied my hair up and sheathed my sickles before heading to the dining hall to join Zelda.
My boots clicked on the cold tile of the castle halls as I made my way toward the dining hall. I pushed open the large double doors, and immediately, the conversation that had been flowing before fell into a tense silence. The king sat at the head of the table, with Princess Zelda beside him. Link stood a few paces behind her, his gaze fixed on me, his posture rigid. I ignored him and bowed respectfully to the king before taking my seat to his left, directly across from Zelda.
The room felt heavy with the weight of the royal council’s attention. I could hear the hushed whispers of concern—faint but distinct—as they murmured among themselves. I was used to it. The hostile glares, the quiet judgments—they were nothing new. I had always learned to ignore them.I settled into my seat, keeping my posture straight as I glanced around the room. The tension was palpable, but it wasn't directed at me directly. It was the council—their eyes flicking between me and Zelda, then down to their plates, whispering quietly among themselves. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead turning my attention to the princess beside me.
Zelda smiled warmly at me, though I caught the subtle furrow of her brow. "I’m glad you could join us, Akira," she said, her voice calm and inviting.
"Of course," I replied with a nod, reaching for the plate in front of me. "I wouldn’t miss it." The room felt unusually quiet, save for the clink of silverware. I glanced over at Link, who stood behind Zelda, his gaze fixed on me. There was something unsettling about the way he watched me, but I chose to ignore it—for now.
"Link," I said, trying to break the silence, "is everything alright?"
He blinked, seeming slightly caught off guard by the question, before giving a short nod. "Just making sure everything’s in order." His voice was curt, but not unkind.
I raised an eyebrow, but instead of pushing further, I shifted my attention back to Zelda. "It’s just dinner, right?" I smiled slightly, trying to lighten the mood.
Zelda’s lips twitched upward in a knowing grin. "Yes, just dinner." She shot a glance at Link, who gave a small, barely noticeable nod in return.
I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "You both seem so serious. I thought we were here to eat, not stand guard."
Link didn’t respond, but Zelda, ever the peacemaker, turned to me with an understanding look. "You know Link," she said, her tone affectionate but teasing. "Always keeping watch."
I smiled, relieved by her easygoing nature. "I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me, Zelda."
She nodded, her smile softening. "I know. But it’s hard not to."
A silence hung between us, though this time it felt more comfortable. After a few moments, Zelda picked up her fork, changing the subject. "How was your journey here, Akira?"
I took a breath, then sighed. "It was long, but not unbearable. Just strange... coming back after all this time." My eyes lingered on the distant view outside, where the setting sun bathed the courtyard in golden light. "It’s not exactly how I remembered it."
Zelda’s gaze softened, understanding there was more behind my words. "It must be hard," she said quietly. "But you’re here now, and we’ll make sure you’re not alone."
I gave a small smile, grateful for her kindness. "Thanks, Zelda."
Behind her, Link shifted slightly, his gaze still fixed on me, but his posture had softened a little. It was almost imperceptible, but I could tell he wasn’t as tense as before.
"So," I said, shifting the focus away from myself, "what’s the latest news? Anything I should know about?"
Zelda looked pleased at the change of topic, and we slipped into a more comfortable conversation, the quiet hum of the royal council’s discussions in the background. The tension between me and Link wasn’t gone, but it was quieter now—less immediate. As we ate, I felt the unease begin to ease, if only slightly, and I allowed myself to relax, at least for a little while.
I finished my meal and excused myself from the dining hall, deciding to turn in early. The day’s events weighed on me, and exhaustion settled deep in my bones. As I made my way back to my chambers, the castle halls were quiet, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows against the stone walls.
Pushing open the door to my room, I let out a tired sigh, unfastened my sickles, and set them carefully on the nearby table. The moment I collapsed onto the bed, the soft blankets pulling me into their warmth, sleep took me instantly.
I awoke the next morning to the sun shining in my eyes. Blinking against the brightness, I sat up and ran a hand through my hair before forcing myself out of bed. After dressing quickly, I secured my sickles at my sides and stepped into the hall, still shaking off the remnants of sleep.
The moment I did, I collided with something solid. I took a sharp step back, my hands instinctively twitching toward my weapons before I registered who it was—Link.
I exhaled, steadying myself. “Ah—my apologies. I didn’t see you.” My voice was calm, but I kept it brief.
Link simply nodded in acknowledgment and stepped past me, his stride unbothered. I was about to continue on my way when I noticed him heading in the same direction.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “You're going to see the princess?”
He gave a small nod, not breaking his pace.
Of course. It made sense. We both served Zelda, after all. Without another word, I walked beside him, the silence settling between us like a quiet tension.
The castle halls were peaceful at this hour, the soft shuffle of servants and distant clink of armor the only sounds filling the space. Morning light streamed through the high windows, casting long shadows across the marble floors.
Though we didn’t speak, I was acutely aware of Link’s presence. His quiet confidence, the way he moved with ease yet always alert—it was something I had come to recognize, even begrudgingly respect.
When we reached the grand doors of Zelda’s study, the guards stationed outside gave us a brief nod before pushing them open.
Inside, Zelda stood at a table covered in maps and notes, her expression thoughtful as she glanced up. A smile broke across her face when she saw us.
“Good morning,” she greeted warmly. “I hope you’re both well-rested. There’s much to go over today.”
I straightened, nodding in response, while Link did the same beside me. Whatever the princess had planned, I was ready. And whether or not he would admit it, so was he.
The morning passed in a blur of routine tasks and formalities. After Zelda’s briefing, Link and I were given our assignments—security rotations, monitoring the training grounds, and accompanying the princess during her studies. Though we never spoke much, I always felt his presence, like a shadow moving just out of reach.
By midday, I was stationed near the castle courtyard, watching over a diplomatic meeting between Zelda and an envoy from Akkala. It was a quiet duty, but I stayed alert, my fingers idly brushing the hilts of my sickles. Across the courtyard, Link stood motionless, his expression unreadable, his posture so effortlessly steady that it almost irritated me.
Just as I started to think this would be another uneventful afternoon, a commotion erupted near the castle gates. A stablehand sprinted toward us, gasping for breath.
"Monsters—on the outskirts of the field!" he blurted. "A group of travelers is stranded—they need help!"
Zelda turned to us without hesitation. "Go. Make sure they get here safely."
Link was already moving. I fell into step beside him, matching his stride. His silence pressed against me like an unspoken challenge.
"Try not to slow me down," I muttered, half expecting some kind of response.
None came. He didn’t even look at me.
Tch. Fine.
We reached the outer fields quickly. A small group of travelers was cornered against a rock formation, surrounded by Bokoblins. The creatures snarled, weapons raised, ready to strike.
Before I could react, Link drew his bow and fired. A Bokoblin crumpled to the ground without a sound from him, as if it had been nothing more than an afterthought.
I drew my sickles and rushed in. The first creature barely had time to register me before I cut it down. Another lunged at my side—I twisted, but not fast enough.
A flash of steel.
Link’s sword intercepted the attack before it could reach me.
I glanced at him, startled. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even acknowledge what he’d done. He just shifted his stance and kept fighting.
Annoyance flared in my chest. He always made everything seem so effortless.
Fine. Two can play that game.
We fought in sync, neither leading nor following, just reacting, adapting. I hated how natural it felt. How easy it was to fall into step with him.
The last Bokoblin snarled and charged at a traveler. I moved to intercept, my blade carving into its side—but before I could finish it, Link was already there, his sword striking the final blow.
The field fell silent. The travelers murmured their thanks, still shaken.
On the walk back to the castle, neither of us spoke. The silence between us wasn’t new, but this time, it felt different. He had saved me without hesitation, and I had matched his movements without thinking. The weight of it sat unspoken between us.
At the gates, Zelda greeted us with a relieved smile. "You worked well together."
I scoffed. "I wouldn’t go that far."
Link said nothing. Just gave a small nod before walking past me, heading inside.
I exhaled, watching him go, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest.
I wasn’t sure what annoyed me more—the fact that we worked well together, or the fact that, for once, I couldn’t deny it.