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Zelda Bosphoramus Hyrule was born blessed. Bright red, screaming and immediately beloved. She was a sign of changing times, of hope, of a kingdom finally starting to heal. A beautiful golden haired little girl born as the golden sun shone its beneficents from high in the heavens at the brightest time of day, on the longest day of the summer.

Zelda Bosphoramus Hyrule was born cursed. Bright red, screaming and in pain. She was the end of another little girl's life, of her potential and future. A terrified bloody babe born right at noon when the light starts to wane, right at the height of the summer when the year starts to die.

Zelda Bosphoramus Hyrule the seventy second was born to the death tolls of a girl who never got the chance to live.

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she was alone in the dark, but it didn't really bother her- at first. 

It was warm and her thoughts were fuzzy. She drifted in between dreams and reality, hardly noticing a difference. Like a jellyfish floating on the current she was unaware and unconcerned with her surroundings. She didn't know if her eyes were open or closed, but it didn't matter. She couldn't see, and -if she was thinking- she wouldn't have thought to care if she could. It could have been perfectly silent or someone could have been screaming right in her ear, either way she wouldn't have heard them. And in that Schrodinger's state of blindness and deafness the little girl who would be named Zelda who had once been another different little girl who used to be named Marianne didn’t care, she really didn't. You had to be aware to care and she wasn't.

Then something started to change.

 She  started to wake up; to become aware. Suddenly she was no longer peacefully drifting between being awake and asleep, she was waking up and she had questions.

 Where was she? What was she doing here? How did she get here? she had been somewhere before here, she knew she had! 

she was starting to remember things, she wasn't a jellyfish- she remembered what a jellyfish was now. She had eyes before this, she knew she did. She could see even if not well. she had ears before this- she was sure! She could hear even if the world was often too loud for her. She had ten fingers and ten toes. She had possessed hands and feet, arms and legs, and a whole entire body beyond that. She had things like a name (Marianne), likes and dislikes (she didn't like the taste of fish, she preferred cats over dogs), dreams and hopes (she had wanted to be a psychologist, a librarian, a doctor maybe. She had wanted to help people)- she was a person. She was! She had things like a mother, a father, a brother, and even more friends and family. Even if she didn't quite remember all of it, or remember WHY she couldn't remember that up until now. 

And here's the thing about being something with ten fingers and ten toes, with eyes and ears, with a heart. You could feel things beyond the warm fuzzy current you drifted on. You could feel things like fear- And the poor girl was consumed by it.

 Where was she? What was she doing here? How did she get here? she had been somewhere before here, she knew she had! (Where was she?)

Why couldn't she remember how she got here? Why can't she see anything but darkness? Why didn’t she hear anything? Why couldn’t she feel anything? (WHERE WAS SHE?)

And here's the thing about remembering things like your name, your likes and dislikes, your hopes and dreams- you remember things like fear. Poor unfortunate Marianne started to remember how to be afraid and of what had kept her up at night. What she was afraid of more than anything else was of being alone. Of having no one and nothing but herself and her thoughts. And Marianne was alone. It was torturous, humans are social animals, The human mind did not do well alone, And Marianne was so alone. Her mind was spiraling deeper and deeper into darkness. She had been alone since she had arrived here. Wherever here was.

 Why can't she see anyone else? Why didn't she hear anyone else? Why couldn’t she feel anyone else? Why was she alone? (WHERE WAS SHE?!)

And here's the thing about remembering things like your family, like your brother, like your father, like your mother. When you knew what you could have you knew how to miss it when it was gone.

Where's my brother? Where's my dad? Where's my mom? Where was my family? (WHERE WAS SHE?!)

she was not so slowly losing the mind she had only so recently remembered that she had. She was certain she was in hell. For what else could it be? It was all darkness and silence and questions- (WHERE AM I? WHERE AM I? WHERE AM I?) Brother where are you? Daddy, where are you? Mommy, where are you? Why am I alone? WHY AM I ALONE? What did I do wrong? I promise I won't do it again- I swear! Please please please I don't want to be alone. I'm so LONELY please-

Then she heard it.

Thump

At first she thought that she had finally gone all the way crazy- and it was a relief even then. ANYTHING was better than the dark, the quiet, the never ending loneliness drawing her deeper and deeper into despair. 

But then she heard it again less than a second later.

Thump

If she could have held her breath she would have.

Thump

Thump

Thump

There was a steady repetitive pounding surrounding her. Perhaps it had been too faint to hear beforehand but it was there. A sound in what had been before impenetrable muffling maddening silence.

Thump,

Thump, 

Thump,

…It almost sounded like a heartbeat. Marianne latched on to the sound like a soldier latching on to the news of peace after over a decade of war. It was something to focus on, something to fight for, something to hope for, something ANYTHING to obsess over instead of the mind numbing repetitive boredom, the unceasing uncertainty, the soul crippling fear and anguish. 

The sound would sometimes speed up or slow down, but it was always there after that. That repeated repetitive thump, thump, thump was all Marianne had in the darkness and so she cherished it. 

She held onto that heart beat until she wasn't so alone. Until she could almost imagine a human warmth to go along with it. Until she could imagine a muffled voice from the owner. Until she HEARD a muffled voice to go along with it. 

The voice wasn't always present like the heart beat was, it came and went in unpredictable patterns, she couldn't understand anything it was saying but the muffled lyrical almost song-like voice was the most wonderful thing Marianne had ever heard. It had to be an angel, she couldn't think of anything else that would comfort her in hell.

Sometimes she'd hear other voices, other sounds, but the first was the dearest and the one she heard most often.

And her dark world was changing in other ways too.

 whereas once she had been floating in an dark endless sea, she was now cocooned in a tight something. And she could feel that she was wrapped up in something! She was starting to get flashes of red light in the darkness, warmth on her fingertips and face. She could feel her fingertips and face! 

Marianne thought that maybe, just maybe, she could learn to live with what she had now. ANYTHING was better than the Dark- than the Silence. And this wasn't so bad, not really. Not now that she knew how bad things could be. She had her heart beat and her voice. She had flashes of light and sight, of warmth and comfort. She was still so so so LONELY, but she could learn to live off of just this. She had no other choice.

And then one in one moment that should have been no different then than any other her cocoon started to get tighter, and tighter, and the warm happy voice started to cry.

And Marianne realized that she might have missed something that in retrospect probably should have been obvious.

After seven long hours right, at noon Queen Zelda Hanlon Hyrule the Seventy-First gave birth to a bloody screaming traumatized little golden haired girl. 

Being born was many things, but it was very unpleasant to say the very least. 

Being born could be described as many things, messy, painful, frightening, exhausting, but pleasant was not one of them. The aftermath of being born was better but only barely. To the newly born infant the whole world was overwhelming; everything was far too loud, too bright, and she was far too sensitive. It was all too much for someone who had grown used to far too little.

She had grown used to silence only interrupted by her new mothers steady heartbeat and muffled voice, now she could hear everything the chatter of the various people in the room. The sounds of footsteps and sloshing water as someone rushed to bring over a basin to clean her with. She could even hear the faint music that was playing in the background over the sounds of hustle and bustle. 

Marianne had grown used to darkness, her eyes only having to adjust to faint reddish light in the latter month. Now there was bright light color and movement everywhere. Even shutting her eyes didn't help as the light mercilessly pierced through the thin fragile skin of her eyelids.

She was completely overstimulated and as the rough hands holding her started to wipe her down with something cold and wet and she couldn't help but to scream her protests to the world. Her desperate screams only hurt her overly sensitive ears more but she could not stop. It was all too much, too fast, too soon and her emotions seemed to burst from her chest with each desperate screaming wail she let out. 

She was wrapped in fabric tightly constraining her flailing limbs and placed on someone warm and soft. An overwhelmed watery sounding voice started to coo at her, as her head lay next to their heart. Marianne’s screams started to subside into sobs then into quiet sniffles. 

She recognised that heart beat.

She recognised that voice.

It was her angel that was holding her.

And everything was still much too loud, much too bright, much too much- but, here carefully cradled in the arms of an angel who was crying with her it didn't seem quite as bad. As tiny teardrops fell off of her new mothers face to meld with her own, she didn't feel quite so alone. 

Marianne let out one last wet sounding sigh and fell asleep in her new mothers arms to the thought that maybe things weren't so bad as long as she had her angel with her.

Marianne had very quickly realized that she had been reborn, reincarnated, resurrected, whatever you wanted to call suddenly having a new life.

After being shoved out the birth canal for hours straight and being subsequently laid on your new mothers chest as doctors fussed around you, you'd have to be very dim NOT to think that maybe just maybe this was that thing called reincarnation you had heard about. And unfortunately for Marianne she was regrettably intelligent.

Being an intelligent young woman was in part of what made being reborn so awful for her. There was nothing for her to do besides think, and listen to the music that was constantly playing every moment of every day (her parents must REALLY believe in the beneficial effects of music on infants). Not only was Marianne suffering from the lack of mental stimulation that unfortunately came with being a baby she was also very very aware of all the implications of being reborn. A side effect of both of these things led to the fact that Marianne had nothing to think about BUT the implications of being reborn.

Nothing was guaranteed, nothing. She didn’t even know how long it had been since she had died and been reborn. She could be on the moon for all she knew! She couldn’t even guarantee that she was a she anymore- Well no that was relatively easy to check despite her lack of coordination, barely able to flail her limbs around all fine motor control lost on her.

Yup still a girl.

Back to her previously scheduled break down- nothing was guaranteed. Nothing. (Except the fact that she was a girl and she only knew that because she had checked.) she could have been born on mars, in a country at war, in a country where women were second class citizens and were mutilated as a routine practice. Hell she could have been reborn in the past or in a cruddy light novel for all she knew! She had literally been reincarnated! Nothing was out of the realm of possibility at this point.

What once had been a dream to her was quickly becoming a nightmare. Fantasy and make believe were all fun and games until it was reality. Science fiction stories looked fun with all their advanced technology and far off horizons, where you could travel the stars and use science almost like magic, But part and parcel of science fiction were hostile alien races and terrifying technologies. Humans were cruel enough to their fellow humans she didn't want to know what they would be like to someone genuinely alien. If you looked a little too closely at almost any science fiction it VERY quickly becomes a dystopia for the little guys living in it, and Marianne knew enough about how people in power worked that she didn't want to live in a world where the government had access to things like mind wipes or super nukes. 

She could feel herself start to hyperventilate but she couldn't stop herself from spiraling further, mind spinning in anxious circles.

Living in the past might even be worse- to know that things could be better, that LIFE could be better, easier, and to be stuck doing it the hard way anyways? Where there wasn't even the benefit of technology and constant advancement to soften the blow of injustice? She would go mad. Not to mention that it was a RARE society where women were treated equally and with the respect they deserved. Now Marianne liked most domestic tasks, she liked baking, sewing, and little kids- but she was also a stubborn scholar who loved to learn, was an argumentative pest who just HAD to insert her opinion into any conversation where she was invested in a topic, and was a little lazy- loathe to do any chore even the ones she enjoyed without being in the mood to do so before hand. She didn't want to live somewhere where being a stay at home mom wasn't a choice, a sacrifice she was voluntarily choosing to make but an expectation? To be in a world where being a homemaker as much as she respected the position was her ONLY choice? Were her opinions were always seen as secondary to any man's? To be barred from making her own choices, always subordinate and subservient to her father, her brother, her husband? She would die a thousand tiny deaths each and every day until there was nothing left of her.

Even if she had been reborn the very day she died, the world she was living in could still very easily be in the sort of pit that she could never escape. She was well aware of the foibles of her home. Poverty was a cancer upon her people that killed slowly but surely dragging its victims deeper and deeper into darkness that no one could escape without sacrifice. There was war and violence and death painted onto her planet with a generous brush. She could have been born into a family that couldn't afford to feed another mouth. That couldn't love another child. She could have been born into a country at the brink of war and have to face all the evils that grew in men's hearts under its strangling hands. She could be born into a place where prejudice and hatred wasn't fought viciously against but a way of life slowly killing the soul of each and every citizen with its pervasive evils. She could have been reborn in a cult-

Her chin was starting to quiver and tears were welling in her eyes and she couldn't seem to breath right-

And even beyond all that she was having to face the reality of never seeing her family anymore. No more mom, no more dad, no more brother. No more aunties, uncles, or cousins. No more grandmas, no more grandpas. No more friends, no more acquaintances, no more rivals. No more anyone she had ever known. She would never again be able to cuddle with her mom, debate with her dad, playfully fight with her brother. She would never again laugh with her grandfather, cook with her grandmother, or practice photography with her cousin. She would never again listen to her aunt brag, or see her uncle smile besotted with his wife. She would never again gush about stories with her best friends, or even smile and have a quick chat with her school acquaintances she shared years of history with. 

She was a stranger in a strange world and she was so, so alone.

She was crying, sobbing, wailing a lament to the world of all she had lost and stood to lose. She couldn't stop her whole body shaking with the force of her fear and sorrow, when she was scooped out of her crib by strong but gentle hands. 

Soft unintelligible murmurs were whispered pressed into her hair alongside soft kisses. She was bounced in careful arms and her ear was pressed against a warm soft chest, a familiar heartbeat echoing in her ears. 

Marianne's weeping started to peter away into soft whimper and then tearful sniffles.

Even if she had nothing else in this new life at least she had her soothing voice and her heartbeat.

Chapter Text

 Marianne was NOT enjoying being a baby. It was boring, and incredibly frustrating. She had never experienced her body not responding to her in quite this way before, she felt too big too alien for her skin. like she was trying to move around in a video game but none of the controls worked quite right or trying to run wearing pants 3 sizes too big and she kept tripping over them. Her head was too big for her body and her neck wasn’t strong enough to hold it up without immense effort, even then she could barely control it. She had been stuck like this for MONTHS.

On top of that Marianne had quickly figured out that the people around her were not speaking any version or dialect of English that she knew. Now that had caused quite the breakdown. Marianne had worked so hard to get to where she was with the English language and her dyslexia had fought her at every turn. She remembered crawling under the desk in elementary school sobbing because she just couldn't understand. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't she do this, she was trying, she swore she was! But Marianne had worked hard and had a community that had done its best to help. She had developed a deep love of stories and the written word. Her spelling, grammar and hand writing had never quite matched the level of her classmates but her comprehension and love of language had grown to far outmatch most of her peers. English had been HER trash fire of three languages hidden in a trench coat and she had loved it. Now? Now she was at square one again. All her work, all her struggle, all her effort had been for nothing.

But she had no choice but to push on and so she did. (well she had spent about three days having crying fits that would only be calmed by her new mothers arms and soothing voice but she thought that she should be allowed her time to grieve. It's not like she really had anything else to do or any deadlines she was working with.) having had her requisite break down about that she was now stuck trying to to decipher a whole new language. Entirely through immersion without any sort of help translating and only the little context the baby talk directed at her by the people around her gave. Fun- cant you see her joy at her new opportunity to learn?

She wasn't sure what language the people around her were speaking either. At least the language was pretty, it sounded like everyone wasalmost singing their words. Unfortunately the nice sound of the language didn't help her know which language it was or where her new home was. Marianne only had the most basic of clues to hypothesize off of. She had never really left her new home and could pretty much only see the sky from her window. She was guessing that she was living somewhere in Europe and the people around her were speaking something European based on the pale skin of her little hands and the golden blond hair on her mothers head and the warm auburn hair of the teen who would change my diapers. Of course she could also be in Asia with the features of the old woman who liked to hover over cribs and stare intensely.

(Marianne was solidly ignoring the possibility that she was on the moon, mars, in the past or something equally existentially terrifying until proven otherwise. She would like to keep what little sanity she had, thank you very much.)

Marianne was stuck guessing at everything.

 The baby talk honestly didn't help as much as one might hope. the people holding her could be calling her an ugly dog unbefitting of the right to life for all she knew. All she had to go off of was tone, and the cooing condescension of whoever was talking at her- because it was at her and not too her- wasn't exactly much to go off of. She was probably being a bit ungenerous to the probably perfectly decent people taking care of her but her temper was very short these days. Controlled breathing could only do so much when you lacked total autonomy and had a brain the size of an orange.

Baby hormones were wreaking havoc on her self composure, at almost every little inconvenience she couldn't help but start to cry, her attention span these days was worse than that of a goldfish and when she wasn't crying or eating, god she didn't want to think about how she was eating (pretend your just drinking out of a squishy straw Marianne, its fine. (it wasn't anything like drinking out of a squishy straw and she was not fine.)). But when she wasn't eating or crying, she was falling into an exhausted sleep. Her packed schedule didn't exactly leave much time to work on her language comprehension.

The only saving grace in this purgatory was her new mother. 

Even in her last life she was a mama's girl, now? Now she was probably certifiable. She was most certainly psychologically dependent on the woman, and in her probably skewed opinion she deserved a few unhealthy coping methods, as a treat. (It's not like she had access to very many healthy ones anyhow.) The moments in which her mother held her or sang to her or even spoke to someone else and she could listen in were her only saving grace. Her mother was an angel sent from heaven and you couldn't convince Marianne otherwise. Her voice instantly soothed any irritation she had, her heart beat could send her straight to sleep, and Marianne could spend hours just staring up at her mothers lovely face. Which funnily enough was one of the only things she got to see. For a certain merit of seeing that was.

Now here's a fun fact about babies, babies eyesight does not properly develop until they are about four months old. When they are born they can only see in black and white and about twelve inches from their face. Right around the distance from your arms to your face when you hold a baby. Even then it was still pretty blurry. Marianne was used to being as blind as a bat without her glasses, but she Doesn't. Have. Glasses. Mariane couldn't understand anything anyone was saying and she couldn't see anything beyond moving blurs. She was blind and practically deaf, as helpless as a baby, which she was, but it did make her lack of autonomy or understanding any better. It was painfully isolating and demeaning, but anything- ANYTHING Was better than what she had had before.

But back to her cheap knock off bargain bin pathetic excuses for a functioning set of optical muscles. The only things Marianne ever really got to see were the bars of her crib, the blanket on which she got tummy time, (which by the way SUPER uncomfortable, it was literally a full body workout baby style and marianne had never not once in either of her lives enjoyed working out.) some vague blurs of motion, and the face (albeit blurrily) of anyone who held her. 

The person who held her the most often was her mother. She had to, what with breastfeeding (don't think about it, don't think about it.). She was beautiful, and not just in the “oh my mommy is the prettiest person in the whole wide world!” way that all kids thought. She was genuinely beautiful. (from what marianne could tell her vision was still blurry and her color vision was still a little muted.)

Her hair was golden blond like genuine gold! Now she wasn't sure if it was her natural color, if it was dyed or if Marianne's assumptions were way off, what with her wonky color vision but it was really pretty! She had these two chunks of hair decorated with pretty fancy golden clasps that framed her face on either side and covered her ears that Marianne liked to hold onto when she was being held. She had these big beautiful gorgeous eyes that were just as wide and as blue as the sky that Marianne had not seen since she had died. All of her features were perfectly even and she had smooth clear skin. She was beautiful in a way that Marianne had never seen anywhere off of a magazine cover before. Her mom could literally be a model or an actress, She was so beautiful. Honestly she might be, for all Marianne knew! Food for thought (oh god don't think about food she would do anything for something other than milk. She missed real food so much.). Back to the point her mom was really pretty, and she kinda hoped she ended up looking like her. On anyone else the perfect face might be a little uncanny but her new mom just had this aura around her that made Marianne unconsciously relax. It felt like serenity, safety and open skies, like peace, happiness, and a warm hug, like everything would be ok. Of course that could be the psychosis or the biological instinct that came from being a baby but Marianne likes to think her new mom was just so soothing to everyone instead of it just being her psychosis. Her evidence? Vibes thank you very much. This wasn't solely a good thing though, (it wasn't necessarily a bad thing either.) Marianne's new mother didn't look anything like her last mother. Obviously she was a supermodel of course she didn't look like her last mom, but-

Well genetics were a thing, and she was unfortunately INTIMATELY aware that this woman was her biological mother. She was of two minds on the subject. On one hand she couldn't really imagine looking any different then she had always looked but she was also very aware of how unlikely that was what with her new parents being two entirely different people from her last, but she HAD been reborn soooo. A quiet part of her that sounded a little too much like her insecurities hoped she looked entirely different, no link to her past pain, no link to past life, no link to her past insecurities. (don't think about it. don't think about it. don't think about it. (Marianne hadn't gotten the courage to look in the mirror yet)) She hadn't really gotten a good look at the man who she assumed was her new fathers face because of the MASSIVE beard the man had blocking his face and getting in her face so really she was betting on her moms genetics coming through.

Of course her new parents weren't the only people holding her either. She had been held by a variety of people but there was a common cast of recurring individuals that she had noticed. One of which was a stunning well kept woman who didn't look a day over thirty if it weren't for her entirely grey hair who she was assuming was her grandmother until she had evidence otherwise. (she HOPED that woman was her grandma because goddamn talk about winning the genetic lottery. Nary a wrinkle or line anywhere and a set of features equally as perfect as her mothers only more asian looking? It's hard to tell ethnicities when you're half blind.) The other person who held her most often was a young girl a little younger than the age that Marianne had been before she died, maybe around 15? Marianne thought that the cute teen that she had temporarily nicknamed Dottie due to the prominent freckles on her face was either a young female relative or a babysitter, possibly both looking at the perfectly even features on her face. Huh the genetics in this family must be really good to have three women who looked so wildly different all have the same perfect symmetry to their face. She looked too old to be Marianne's new sister with the age she was assuming her mother to be but she could be wrong. What with how young her assumed grandmother looked, perhaps an aunt with a large age gap between her and Marianne's mother? Or maybe she was Marianne's sister and her mother and grandmother's genetics were even better than she thought and Marianne was a whoopsie baby born over a decade and a half after her sister? A cousin maybe? None of the women shared very many features besides the whole perfect symmetry and big beautiful eyes thing… Marianne may need to consider the likelihood of genetic engineering at this point. 

It wouldn't be TOO wildly out of left field there had already been discussions on the ethics of genetic engineering when Marianne had been in her last life, who knows how much time had passed since then. She didn't know how to feel about the idea that humans might have gotten to the point that they were ensuring that their babies were born with perfectly symmetrical features. That or plastic surgery had advanced wildly and become much more culturally acceptable for it to be so perfect and for it to be acceptable for a teen to get in the time since she had died. Either Marianne had mixed feelings about it. She might just be a little disappointed in humans as a people? So much for the whole campaign of inner beauty and your perfect just the way you are that teen movies like to pitch, it felt vapid and shallow. But on the other hand Marianne had died a seventeen year old girl with all the insecurities and vanities that came with that, it would almost be a relief to be perfect by design. 

Of course it could just be VERY good genetics. 

There was something else about the people around her that was giving her pause but she wasn’t quite sure what it was.

She’d have to think on it.

WERE THOSE FREAKING ELF EARS?!?!?

Chapter Text

Marianne felt perfectly justified in that moment in losing her entire mind. Elves, everyone around her were some sort of freaky elf creature! The unearthly beauty, perfect symmetry, the ears! Why hadn't she seen this before! 

Now she didn't know what was worse. The idea that humanity advanced so far that there was some scifi nonsense that let people change themselves so much that they look like Tolkien rip offs, or that she was now genuinely a fantasy nerds dream come true. 

Her eyes frantically ran over Dottie's features, bouncing from the big almost anime eyes, the smooth blemish free skin, and the massive elf ears that had perked up happily after Marianne had cooed and grabbed one of her fingers. The movement being what had drawn Marianne's attention to them in the first place.

It was almost cute the way that her ears reacted to her emotions. The massive pointed elf ears that she definitely had. That were just- attached to her face.

Maybe they were cosplay ears, she thought faintly in both fear and bafflement, cosplay ears that could move in response to your emotions. Yha! Cosplay ears… and plastic surgery… and a perfect skin care routeen…

Oh my lord dotties an elf.

If she was and elf-

Marianne's hands instantly slapped toward the side of her face and felt for her ears, and sure enough they were pointy and far too large to be human. Maybe her new family were super fans? Maybe they put cosplay ears on her while she was asleep? She knew of families that had posed their babies with real guns for photos, surely applying baby costume ears wasn't TOO out of the realms of possibility. Even if she had yet to see a camera.

 Marianne pulled on her ears and immediately burst into tears. 

The introduction of pain when she was already spiraling was just too much for her baby mind to handle. Beneath the sounds of her hiccuping wails she could hear Dottie murmuring in concern as she scooped her up, but she couldn't find it in herself to calm down. She wasn't human anymore. And she certainly wasn't in the time or place she knew either. She had somewhat prepared herself to be in the future, but this? how could she have known to worry about the fact that she wasn't human? She had just assumed that- oh god was she in the far flung future, or in a fantasy novel, or hell was she on another planet? She had never even read Lord of the rings or the similarian! She didn't know anything about elves! She wasn't prepared to be an elf, space variety or otherwise.

Everything she thought she knew about her new self was wrong and she was reeling. Dottie cooed and swept her up in her arms starting to bounce her but she couldn't stop crying. She wasn't even a human anymore, everything she knew about herself was already up in the air what with her reincarnation and now she couldn't even say she was the same species any more! What was she now? Who was she supposed to be if she didn't even know this basic fact about herself!

What was she supposed to do now?

Marianne had somewhat come to terms with her new inhumanity. Well as much as she could anyways, now sitting in front of a mirror after bath time she really inspected herself for the first time. (god what a chore it was to be able to get to this point, her bobble baby head was a PAIN to learn to balance with, she wasn't so much as sitting as doing a drunken lean but it was good enough.) she wasn't COMPLETELY alien. She had five fingers and five toes on each of her two hands and feet. She didn't have a tail (which would have been cool.) or any other new appendages that she could spot. Even her tongue looked normal when she stuck it out to check! (she was holding out hope for cool teeth, it seemed like every fun fantasy race had cool teeth of some sort. Here's hoping for pointy canines!) now onto what WAS weird- Her skin was perfectly clear without any of the redness or the almost acne some babies would get. Her eyes were absolutely massive, seeming to take up the majority of her face almost like those paintings by Margaret Keane with the unsettling children with eyes the size of dinner plates. The little tufts of hair on top of her head were a beautiful golden blond and if she wasn't seeing things (which she might be- why else where her eyes so big, she might have been seeing in ultraviolet for all she knows.) gold was the right term for it looking far more like the metallic shade then any hair color that she'd seen before. All of that's not even mentioning the ears, pointy little triangles sitting to either side of her head slowly tilting this way and that as she inspected herself. 

Was it weird that they moved independently? She tilted her head in confusion and watched her eyes widen (even further the anime monstrosities) in shock as one ear tilted up and the other flopped down like a confused puppy.

It wasn't just Dottie and Marianne that were elves. Every one she had seen so far shared the same inhuman features.

After her crying jag in dotties arms Marianne had combed over every one she had seen with a fine toothed come. (as much as she could with her Stupid. Freaking. Baby. Eyes. god it might be better to just rip them out of her skull to be done with them!) Every single person she saw were large eyed, clear skinned, perfectly symmetrical, and elf eared. She had also tentatively concluded that we weren't Tolkine elves, those were supposed to be perfectly graceful, and well- bless their hearts. She had seen a few to many people nearly trip over the one rug that was always wrinkling in the doorway to believe in elven grace. Except granny, Marianne had never seen her so much as stumble.

Now that she was proudly and solidly repressing her existential fear and dread over the fact that she was no longer human she was fascinated about her new race. She was tentatively assuming she was a fantasy elf instead of a space elf. As her eyesight had resolved she hadn't seen any trace of advanced tech and the walls around her were all stone brick lined with fireplaces and tapestries. (she was ignoring the panic about possibly living in the past, dont think about it, dont think about it, dont think about it.) but it wasn't off the table, there was the constant music playing which could be live but would be prohibitively expensive if it was. The medieval look could be a fashion statement. aesthetics go in and out of popularity all the time!

As time passed and the days had grown shorter and the air colder Marianne became more and more well, not comfortable but adjusted to her new life. Her eyesight had started to resolve, her strength, mobility, and understanding of the language increased, leading her to fun new information and theories!

For example she had come to realize that her new parents were ridiculously wealthy, They might even be nobility of some sort! How had she figured this out? Well the gilded everything was her first cue. The second was seeing both dottie and granny bowing to both my mother and father. It didn't exactly take Sherlock to make a few guesses from there. 

She had no idea why a higher power thought it was a good idea to make her a noble, Marianne didn't exactly excel at any social field- as her former class mates could attest. She was so oblivious to most social cues that a girl had literally tried to bully her for being odd and she just hadn't noticed. Sure she noticed that social cues were happening but she still couldn't catch them as she was forced to watch them go flying over her head. But being forced to do nothing but watch the world go on around you did at least help her notice some things.

Like the fact that Dottie and Granny probably weren't actually related to Marianne, which she should have figured out from the wildly different features but she was working with what she had. Also they seemed to be calling Marianne some sort of title based on their tone when they were talking to someone not Marianne and using the word that she had learned referred to her. (whenever anyone talked to Marianne they always took the same cooing condescending tone that everyone used to talk to babies, it was supremely unhelpful.) Now what the word meant she had no idea without more context, her current working theory was something along the lines of young lady, or little mistress. Something with two words and a title in it. She was pretty certain the first word was something that means small and the second was an honorific. The exact rank and computation of the second word was entirely lost on her. They also occasionally replaced the first word of the phrase for another that she couldn't understand but seemed to be the full version of her title. Going from something like little lady to honored lady or something along those lines. Look she was working with what she had, it's not like anyone stopped to explain anything to her or gave her an English to elvish dictionary!

She should have been a lord of the rings fan girl instead of a star wars fangirl. She knew like 10 words in mandalorian! Which wasn't much but was more then she knew in elvish! It probably still wouldn't have helped seeing as these aren't Tolkien elves but she would at least have the vindication of her interests being relevant! It's not like reading about complicated space politics is going to help me in the real world!

Stop marianne theirs no point in wallowing think about the here and now.

Everyone has been acting unusually lately. It seemed like any moment that Dottie wasn’t cleaning or tending to me she had been diligently working on embroidering some project Marianne hadn't gotten a look at. Marianne had barely seen her mother outside of feeding time and hadn't seen granny or father at all for what seems like the last week.

It had all come to a head today when Marianne had actually been woken from her sleep, (hot tip- do NOT wake a sleeping baby, savor every quiet moment while you can.) an act tantamount to the highest betrayal to be scrubbed down and dressed in a weird baby gown. which in retrospect was the thing that Dottie had been working so hard on. Marianne was subsequently whisked off through the bustling halls of her new abode. 

The building was buzzing, everyone they passed seemed to be an inch away from running or carrying something too heavy to run with and looking to wish dearly that they could. Marianne couldn’t help but be fascinated. Even as she was rushed through the halls unable to linger too long on any one sight. Everyone really did just look like that, all perfect. It was almost magical. The perfectly pretty people rushed about to the backdrop of rapid conversation that sounded like the chatter of birds with the musical way the words were practically sung.

Marianne was now almost certain that she was in a castle or manor of some sort with the large staff on top of the brickwork and torches liberally dotted along the walls between open windows lined by colorful curtains. This was only reinforced as dottie and the guard that Mairanne somehow missed shadowing them opened a small side door and entered a massive throne room.

Oh so that's what that word means. Marianne couldn't help but think, feeling faint at the sight of the two already large thrones rising above the room on an elevated dais. 

Oh my god she was a princess.

Maybe reading about space politics was relevant.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: what makes plot relevance

Now Marianne had guessed that she was a noble of some sort or that her new family was at least extremely wealthy- but royalty? She wouldn't lie and say that the idea hadn't crossed her mind as a possibility, in fact that had been her first thought when she had made out more than the indistinct grey and orange blurs of her walls to see stone brick, flickering firelight, and golden embellishments. She had dismissed that thought away as too wild, too outlandish, too unlikely to be the truth. Retrospectively she realized that thinking anything is too unlikely after dying and then being reborn as a freaky elf thing surrounded by more inhumanly beautiful elf things is an inherently bone dead stupid decision, but forgive her for not believing that she- plain old marianne could be reborn as an elf princess. She had thought surely her life couldn't be THAT ridiculous THAT tropie. Surely no higher power would look at Marianne's soul and go- “oh yes SHE would make an EXCELLENT elf princess.” now she was near certain she was here by a divine mistake or some sort of cosmic joke. Marianne had never done anything to deserve being a princess in her next life. She would be a horrible princess! She wasn't good at social cues or subtle words or politics! That was like three-fourths of being a princess! And the other fourth was being sold off for marriage alliances! She had never even been on a date! She wasn't nearly cynical enough yet to be okay with a political marriage! She wanted love! If she could be lucky enough to find someone who could love her- ok honestly she might be okay with a political marriage if the man she is marrying is decent enough but that's not the point! She couldn't be a princess! They ended up responsible for running an entire castle's worth of staff, and dealing with political machinations Marianne wasn't nearly clever enough to keep up with!

Oh my god she was going to die! She was going to get poisoned and die for a political plot she didn't even see coming! Or assassinated or banished to starve and die for being incompetent! 

Marianne started to cry even as she was handed off to her father who started to shush her and rock back and forth in his throne.

Oh she felt sick- was she even going to make it to sixteen this time before she was killed off, or perhaps worse sold off.

“Shh my little princess daddy has you”

The effort of trying to translate my fathers words and the soothing motions of his arms reduced my wails to sniffles.

“...it good girl, be good for your mommy now- she's doing a big… … today” the next words were unintelligible big something, ceremony? Speech, sacrifice of her first born to the gods? At least that one would give her another good reason to cry.

She gripped on to her fathers beard and let out an upset gurgle. Why did his arms have to be so strong and warm! she was perfectly reasonable in her panic attack!

Actually, thinking about it, it was probably HIS fault that Marianne was a princess! She immediately gave his beard a hard yank and spat in his face.

Take that! 

He grimaced and waved a servant over who immediately gave him a hanky to wipe his face as he shifted Marianne to one arm.

“Did you not get burped today? Is that why your…” cranky upset RITOUSLY FURRIOUS AT THE WORLD. The last word he spoke was one of those probably not the last one but it was accurate to her mood.

He handed Marianne to Dottie who obediently burped her again.

Oh so you think you're too good to burp your own daughter??? He was obviously a snob and Marianne hated him. It didn't matter that he was in fancy clothes and probably didn't have time to change and didn't want to do whatever we were gathered here for today in clothes covered in baby upchuck. The bourgeoisie didn’t deserve empathy.

Also Marianne was being angry so she didn't have to be scared. it was a lot easier to just direct all of her new scary negative emotions at her dad.

It's not like she could really do anything else about them.

If there was one benefit to being a baby it was the fact that her new brain was literally too small for her to be stuck on one emotion or train of thought for long. As soon as some new sensory input popped up her attention was totally derailed. 

She wasn't allowed to wallow in her righteous anger for long before the muffled sound of an approaching crowd distracted her.

She should probably pay attention to what’s going on around her, if for no other reason than to work on her language comprehension.

Ignorance was no longer a luxury she could afford. Not now that she knew the danger of her position.

And as the grand doors opened to admit the crowd into the grand throne room Marianne was once again shocked by her new world.

Apparently elves weren't the only new race she would have to deal with.

Above the crowd flew several massive bird things? People? They were wearing clothes; it would probably be wise to assume they were people until proven otherwise.

And they weren't the only new species she was seeing. There were of course the  majority were the new elves things that she was now a part of, from what looked like multiple ethnicities. Tall tan skinned elves with red hair, more regular hight elves with brown or black hair, and a large group of elves with white hair. (Were they all old or was white hair just a hair color you could have here? She might have to rethink granny’s age.) There was also-

Look, Marianne’s sight still wasn’t fully developed but she was pretty sure humans or elves weren't orange and weren't shaped like giant bowling balls with arms, legs and heads. Were those? She squinted, was their skin cracked? Their flesh almost looked like stone. 

There were also what she could only describe as fish people. They had what looks like a whole fish on their head instead of hair and fins on their arms and legs. There was also something off about their proportions but from this distance she couldn’t tell what.

The hall was buzzing with the excited chatter of the musical language and Marianne had a quick moment of relief. At least it didn’t sound like there was another language she’d have to learn on top of her new mother tongue.

“My …” mothers clear bell-like voice rose above the crowd, silencing the crowd near effortlessly. God the acoustics in this room were fantastic.

“I am … to see you all … here today, I come with good … and … …” god I hate not being fluent in the language. “… the … we faced in the … years we are strong! Our … are … . a new … is starting. An …of ….” This is telling me nothing.

“And today I …. You a sign of …, a new princess for a new …. May I … to you my … … Princess Zelda Bosphoramus Hyrule the seventy-second!”

As my father passed me to my mother to hold out to the cheering crowd I could feel my brain screech to a halt like a record scratch.

Zelda??? Hyrule??? Elf looking people??? The pieces of the puzzle were clicking together and I did not like the picture they were making.

In fact it was starting to look like I was royally screwed.

The rest of the ceremony passed by in a blur of my rising panic. Being a princess was one thing, being a princess Zelda? That was entirely another. Beyond the fact that I had SOMEHOW ended up reincarnated in one of my favorite video game franchises there was the fact that I had to rapidly readjust my expectations for the dangers I would be in.

I was suddenly a lot less worried about being married off to a gross old man.

No NOW I was worried about being turned into a giant crystal!

Oh my god I was in so much trouble.

Which Zelda was I? Which game am I in? There were like 20 that I knew of. None of them would be good to be in, some are just less bad.

I’m probably not in wind waker or skyward sword, not being raised in a castle. So that just leaves- every other game that Zelda is in.

 Great.

God I don’t want to be a Zelda! They are all walking tragedies

Ocarina of time, her kingdom got taken over, her family killed and she had to live years in exile and disguised as a man. Twilight princess, her kingdom gets taken over she’s imprisoned she DIES. Spirit tracks, she dies?? Gets turned into a ghost? Breath of the wilds just an entire tragedy. Minish cap/ four swords she’s kidnapped by an evil wizard. Kidnapped again in the original. Sent into a hundred year sleep in another. Trapped in crystals at least twice.

Oh Marianne was just going to die again.

Damn she JUST got use to her new body too she thought half way to hysterics. 

At least she won’t have to worry about an arranged marriage…

Unless she survives which is possible but unlikely. Great awful options either way.

Did Hyrule do arranged marriages? That would be one way to keep track of the royal bloodline but if she had the power of a goddess she certainly wouldn’t let anyone arrange her marriage. 

Of course knowing her luck she’d be the first powerless Zelda in the long line of powerful queens.

…the long line of powerful queens…

It hit her like a lightning bolt.

Zelda was the name of EVERY Princess of Hyrule; there were probably THOUSANDS of unremarkable princesses and eventually queen Zelda’s whose only impact on the timeline was to keep the kingdom relatively together for her tenure and to have at least one daughter also named Zelda. 

Honestly, what was the likelihood that SHE plain old marianne was important to the fate of the world the same way game Zelda's were? Weren't they all reincarnations or avatars of the goddess hylia or something anyways? She was certain that with a goddess being so invested no cosmic mistake of that magnitude would be allowed to occur. She probably just slipped through the bureaucratic cracks to reincarnate into an incredibly unimportant zelda in a long line of them. The royal line of Hyrule had existed for millennia in the games, with up to ten thousand years in between incarnations of the hero and goddess.  Mistakes had to happen at some point with a scale that big.

It was fine.

It was FINE, She rationalized. Now all she had to worry about were the regular issues with being royalty- back to panicking about arranged marriages and assasination plots now with the perspective that it could be SO much worse. Maybe she could even pray to hylia about it or something. If she didn't get immediately smote for bodysnatching a baby of her bloodline. 

 After the big ceremony there was a smaller party for her parents to show her off to either close friends and family or the politically important. Marianne couldn't tell which, knowing royalty it could be one in the same. 

She was tired and cranky but making an effort to stay awake to get a lay of the land with her new knowledge in mind.

The white haired elves- sorry Hylians, were probably Sheikah, they dressed differently then the other Hylians, more kimonos less ballgowns.

Up close she could tell that the thing about the proportions of the fish people that she had seen the zora that had been off was the ratio of torso to legs, their legs being much shorter and their torso much longer. They didn't have scales but they did have a smooth rubbery skin that reminded Marianne of a dolphin or mantareya, with fluttery brightly colored fins on their hips, shoulders and forearms. They were dual toned with darker backs and lighter stomachs and faces with patterns of spots to them that gave a light bioluminescence in the candle light.

Also they weren't wearing clothes.

They had jewelry and the occasional fancy scarf but other than that they were entirely naked. They also didn't have any genitals???

Moving on,

The birds people that she had seen flying were the rito, they looked as if people had evolved from birds instead of apes but had the same proportion issues as the zora. They had wings instead of arms but didn't seem to have any trouble with using their wings in roughly that fashion. They had long thin hair like feathers on the back of their head that they styled like hair and then bigger more regular feathers all across the rest of their body. Thankfully they were also wearing clothing.

The Gorons were entirely alien large round torsoes supported by tiny legs and paired with long strong arms they really did look like boulders given life. On their backs they almost had shells made of rough rocky stone. Strangely enough they did grow hair, atop of their head were fluffy tops of platinum blond hair which fluffed into what could only be called anime spikes. They also wore clothing if only a loin cloth to accompany their jewelry.

The tall red headed women she originally thought were a different ethnicity of Hylian were probably gerudo. Up close it was strikingly obvious they weren't the same species as the Hylians. Not only were they incredibly tall their ears were less pointed then the Hylians more a gentle tip then the full blown elf ears of the hylian. More obviously their bone structure was different; they all had an hourglass figure that looked like it was made of bone instead of fat. They weren't just curvy, their bones were set up differently. Their ribcage looked too small like they were missing their bottom two ribs. Their waists didn't taper to a point and then widened back out into hips, After their too small ribcage their waist narrowed rapidly, continued on straight for a bit at that width then jutted out dramatically into hips that were wider and boxier than their rib cage. 

Marianne could fully believe that the gerudo evolved separately to the Hylians. It made her think of those plants or animals that had evolved to look like another species on purpose to either parasitize or create a symbiotic relationship with them.

Speaking of her chariot (her mother) was approaching a gerudo woman. She wasn't particularly tall when compared to the rest of her fellows, but she still towered head and shoulders over Marianne's new mother. 

“Zel-bell! Congratulations! That was a excellent …! Is that the baby princess? She's the cutest little … I've ever seen! The woman exclaimed her voice was deep and smooth with an accent Marianne had never heard before.

“Urbosa! I-” the world faded out around her after that.

Maybe she had been overestimating the gods.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: a fundamental failure in faith

Now Marianne had never been all that religious, she hadn’t truly believed in any god before she had died. Dying and being reborn of course had changed her perspective. Then she had been certain there had been SOMETHING out there even if she hadn’t known what. Of course she hadn’t thought all that well of whatever was out there what with her situation but she had been unconsciously giving them the benefit of the doubt.

SURELY her rebirth had been a minor mistake, a misfiled document somewhere a back log of paperwork that had let her slip through the cracks. Mistakes happened sometimes, it sucked but it was true. She had been assuming that this whole rebirth with her memories intact had been done without malice. 

Now? 

Now she wasn't so sure.

As she could see it now there were three options: this was some sort of cruel game for the gods, that her reincarnating as zelda was a power play by some higher power for good or (probably) ill or just that whoever was in charge of this mess was fatally incompetent.

As pessimistic as Marianne was feeling right now she never wanted to be the sort of person who assumed the worst of people be they mortal people or… not so mortal. The fate of Hyruel felt too important to be something that could be fumbled like this. that the soul of Hylia's avatar could be replaced- while she could be wrong her gut was telling her that the most likely option was that this was some sort of power play. She could see it all too easily, Gannon demise or some other malicious Force  sabotaging link and Hyrule before the adventure even began.

What was she even supposed to do in this situation?

As her mind had rushed to connect the clues laid out before her marianne had been frozen in her fathers arms almost too startled and confused to cry, now her emotions were catching up to her racing thoughts and her new baby instincts were kicking in.

Marianne let out a little sniffle before she began to cry in ernest overwhelmed by the day and the emotional rollercoaster of all of the revelations that she had made.

She had been feeling helpless since she had died what felt like both yesterday and ages ago but this- this was worse. Before there had been a time limit, eventually she was going to grow up, eventually she would understand her situation better, eventually she would be able to grieve and maybe not move on but move forward again, some sort of agency she could express to deal with her issues. 

Now? 

Now she didn't know how much of a future she could look forward to. She didn't know what to do, how to fix the predicament she was in now. There was no growing out of or out maneuvering a god. Be it malicious or otherwise.

“Looks like the little princess is getting overtired, take her up to the nursery.” 

She could barely even sit up straight let alone deal with whatever led her to be reborn in the place of the goddess hylia or whatever was going on with that cycle of reincarnation!

What- what was she supposed to do about this?

She might as well just pray for a swift death in the upcoming apocalypse! 

At the thought she felt an idea begin to bloom.

This is a divine issue- surely she should leave it up to the gods?

Maybe she should just pray about it?

She didn't want to get smited for taking the place of the goddess blood princess but she didn't really see a solution to the whole end of the world issue if something wasn't done. Hey she might even be sent to whatever afterlife she was supposed to have, or at least not be cursed with memories that would only cause her grief.

As her crying subsided into sniffles she was laid onto her cot a a gentle kiss was placed on her forehead from Dottie.

“Shhh, rest now little princess.”

How was she supposed to go about praying and getting the upper administration's attention? Did she just pray? Did she need to find a goddess statue of some sort? Did she need to go on some quest to get their attention?

As Dottie left the room Marianne resolved that there was no better time to start than now.

Doing her best to clasp her little hands together Marianne did her best to figure out how to pray.

Attempting to direct her thoughts to the heavens she thought as loudly as she could.

…

. . .

.  .  .

Ok a general prayer wasn't doing anything, maybe she had to direct it toward a specific goddess like Hylia, Din, Farore, or Nayruh? Try two.

…

. . .

.  .  .

Ok she probably wasn't doing this right. Marianne hadn't exactly been religious in her last life so she was mainly trying to copy what she had seen on tv and that clearly wasn't working, or maybe it was like the games where it needed to be done in front of a statue?

Now to figure out how she was supposed to ask how to pray when she couldn't speak yet… she should also probably work on some back up plans for if her prayers don't get answered.

She just had to figure out how to circumnavigate the end of the world! No big deal!

…

Marianne REALLY hoped that she could figure out this praying thing. 

“Come on say mama, can you say ma-ma?”

“Ma-ma! pay!”

“She said mama! She wants me to play! My baby is already speaking in sentences! She's a little genius! Yes she is!”

“Can you say dada! da-da!”

Ok so this was going to take a while.

Marianne regretted ever mentioning wanting real food in one of her nightly attempts at prayer. She had been attempting to pray every morning and every evening thinking that maybe piety was the missing link. (more like repetition, here's to hoping the gods don't have a very good spam filter) 

After a certain point she had started to include more than just her ever present attempts to bring heavenly HR’s attention to her issues. She had been including her thoughts and her work in progress plans, maybe to attempt to form some sort of repertoire with whomever might be hearing her prayers, maybe to just stave off madness.

Either way she had recently been mentioning how nice it would be to be able to eat real food again. Now her mouth was aching unceasingly and she was pretty sure she was teething. It’s either a massive coincidence and she would have started teething soon anyways, OR someone was hearing her prayers and their just a petty little-

Either way she would take it as a sign to keep on praying and to be careful what she wished for. (Maybe she can annoy the gods into dealing with their own mistakes.)

After a bit of thinking Marianne was grateful that no one had actually understood what she meant when she was first asking about prayer. Wouldn't it be a little too weird for a baby to be asking how to pray before she should even know what prayer is?

New strategy- time to crawl her way to find a statue of hylia instead.

So crawling to find a statue of hylia was a work in progress- while Marianne could crawl rather quickly for an infant and was more willing than the average baby to crawl past pain and exhaustion she still couldn't go very fast or very far.

Mostly because she could go roughly .1 miles an hour maybe .15 on a good day. There was the other issue that she had watchers constantly hovering over her who weren't afraid to pick her up and cart her right back to her room at their own convenience. Also she couldn't open doors without assistance.

“GWAN! No! Wan out!”

“You are going down for your nap Zelda, you have spent the last hour crawling around exploring, it's nap time now.”

“NOOOOOO”

she may have to wait until she could walk.

“Come on, you can do it! Come here baby! Come to mommy!”

Balance- come one you got this.

One, two, three- oh shoot! 

Mother lunged.

TIMBER!

Marianne hummed trying and failing to copy to the music playing in the background as she did a drunken toddler stumble through the halls. Her mother followed amusedly behind trying to stifle her giggles at the off key melody.

She had never figured quite where the music was coming from, it seemed like a ridiculous use of tax payer dollars to design a castle around acoustics and have a band constantly playing SOMEWHERE but evidently that was where her parents money was going. The logistics of the architecture alone was ridiculous, she had yet to find somewhere where she couldn't hear the music. Maybe her elf ears just allowed better hearing to make this possible?

That or Marianne was having persistent auditory hallucinations.

“What a sweet little song bird you are, aren't you!” Marianne squeaked in a particularly undignified manner as she was swept off the ground.

Apparently her ground time had run out

Marianne glared at the door handle.

The door handle presumably glared back.

“Im not letting you out.” Dottie didn't even look up from her embroidery

“Ouuuuuttttt!” Marianne wined futility reaching for the door knob that remained a good 6 inches beyond her fingertips, even on her tip toes.

“No, you've been out already today. You nearly fell down the stairs. No out till you learn not to run ahead of me.”

Marianne pouted, it wasn't her fault that she couldn't reach the railing.

She eyed the toy chest near the window.

“Princess!?! What are you doing out here!?!” Marianne froze like a deer in headlights, or more accurately like a misbehaving child in torchlight. 

She really should have expected a guard patrol of some sort.

Marianne's toys were now in a chest too large for her to move.

Her parents were genuinely baffled that a one year old managed to perform such mischief, and that she managed to move the first chest at all.

“Mama who hylia?” Marianne was attempting her first strategy again, this time a little more circuitously. 

“Shes a goddess baby, and your great, great, great, great, great, GREEEAAAATTT grandma!” Marianne's mother drew out the last great as she tickled Marianne's stomach.

Giggling helplessly marianne whined, “mama stoooopppppp”

Relenting her mother tilted her head “why do you want to know little song bird?”

“Wanna see!” Marianne tugged at the golden strands framing her mother's face as she pleaded.

“Ok baby, I’ll take you to the prayer hall”

Staring at her mother kneeling in front of a kindly smiling statue Marianne felt apprehension.

Clumsily kneeling beside her mother and copying the way she clasped her hands Marianne hoped desperately that this would work.

Please please hear me. Please, I don't know what to do. I’m so scared, please help me- help all the people that will get hurt because I’m not really Zelda. Please lady Hylia I don't want to be the reason that anyone dies.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: finger painting the timeline

Marianne- no Zelda she needed to get used to being called Zelda, had resigned herself to being stuck here. 

She had prayed and prayed and prayed without answer. Of course she hadn't stopped praying since her first failure- half out of hope of actually getting answers half out of spiteful hope to fill up the gods metaphorical spam boxes. It wasn't all that much of a chore, her new family was quick to reward her seeming piety with a cookie and warm words of praise for being a good girl after she spent some time quietly praying at Hylia's altar. The statue of Hylia also seemed to sit in a perpetual sunny spot (most likely by design) and the room was always calm and quiet with a soothing air to it. It was a good place to sit and think.

And Mari- Zelda needed that time. If she wasn't going to get any help then she needed to start planning now. She had done her best to lay out a rough timeline of what she remembered from the game.

• 10,000 years before the start of the game Calamity Gannon attacks Hyrule and it defeated with the combined forces of an incarnation of The Hero, a princess with the divine blood and incarnation of hylia, four champions from each race each piloting a divine beast, and a metric butt ton of guardians.
• The Sheikah construct the shrines across Hyrule to train the next hero for when Gannon inevitably returns.
• At some point after Calamity Gannons defeat the kingdom of Hyrule grew to fear the power of the sheikah tribe and demand the destruction of all sheikah tech.
• The sheikah split in two, the sheikah who remained loyal to the crown and buried their tech and the Yiga who were rightfully furious at the betrayal. The Yiga then far less righteously went became assassins for Gannon and the monsters who want to take over the world and subjugate all the races or something.
• Roughly 117 years before the start of the game Zelda and Link are born Link before Zelda.
• At some point Zelda's mom dies(!!!).
• At some point signs of Gannon's return are spotted.
• Zelda is forced to devote all her time to prayer and put aside her near genius with sheikah tech.
• Link pulls the Master Sword at a very young age.
• Zelda recruits the champions (without link) and gives them the champions garb crafted with her own hand.
• Link is assigned to be Zelda's personal knight.
• Link and Zelda don't get along at first but after Link saves Zelda from an assasination attempt by the Yiga the two grow closer.
• On Zelda's 17th birthday Link, Zelda, and the champions meet at the base of mount Lanayru before Link and Zelda head up alone to the spring of wisdom trying to unlock Zelda's powers.
• The two come back from the mountain defeated when Calamity Gannon suddenly attacks the castle.
• The champions rush to their divine beasts link and probably zelda head toward Hyrule castle
• Gannon infects the guardians and the divine beasts killing the champions, every one in the castle, and forcing Link and Zelda to retreat toward fort Hatano
• Link is severely wounded and the master sword damaged at the point when another guardian stalker attempts to kill Zelda, He refuses to run when Zelda begs him and attempts to defend her. Knowing that Link is too injured to survive this fight, Zelda activates her divine powers in her desperation to save him.
• Link collapses either being on the brink of death or actually dead
• The master sword speaks to Zelda telling her that he can be saved. Zelda commands the freshly arrived sheikah guards to take Link to the shrine of resurrection.
• Zelda returns the Master Sword to its pedestal in Korok forest.
• Zelda seals herself and Calamity gannon in the castle for the next 100 years waiting for Link to wake up for the start of the game.

Of course mar-ZELDA dosn’t have perfect recall of the games, it had been at least a year maybe even coming on two since she had been reborn not even counting the time she had no way of measuring in between her death and second birth so she was honestly a little impressed that she had remembered this much.

She wasn't going to be trusting herself to remember this all. She needed to record this so that she didn't forget anything in the incoming years. Obviously she couldn't just write it down. For one she didn't want to worry her parents by having their baby write in incomprehensible foreign tongues, even if it could just be waved away as a child’s scribbles. The second reason behind her hesitation to just write everything down was that unfortunately  Zelda's chubbly baby hands simply didn't have the dexterity to be able to write yet. Once more her plans are foiled by the limits of her stupid baby biology.

But no matter! She will continue on in the ancient traditions of her ancestors! 

Crudely done stick figure scribbles! 

“Dottie wanna make paintings!”

“Ok princess we can make paintings, but only after you eat your vegetables!”

Truly the sacrifices that she had to make were endless.

Well she would be remaking these as soon as she could, but for now they would have to do. At least she didn't have to worry about encoding her work.

Sitting in front of Zelda were two crudely finger painted depictions of the timeline, one for the last war against Gannon, and one for the future that she was facing. 

Sweeping her eyes across the “future” timeline her eyes caught on the key points she intended to change. The first and most crucial being my new mothers death. Beyond simply not wanting her mom to die, Zelda's mothers death is arguably the key domino in this whole tragedy. Without her mother to train her, Zelda is left to flounder in attempting to learn her powers; without her powers, Link and Zelda are unable to seal Gannon.

Of course a large part of the kingdom's loss can be choked up to the suborning of the guardians, but Zelda's lack of powers is one of the major components. 

Now ma- Zelda isn't at all certain that she will be able to use divine power at all, what with her being a cuckoo princess but surely if she could use the power having an experienced teacher would be better than fumbling in the dark. And if m-ZELDA isn't able to use the divine powers her mother can take her place in the final battle.

And well if her mother can't be saved? If her death is from something like an illness or an unavertable accident which Zelda has no way of preventing? Well the best time to start her training is now.

But how to go about convincing her mother to start training her…

Zelda's eyes drifted to the book of fairy tails that was read to her each night.

Well there's an idea.

That evening it was her moms turn to read her to sleep and m-zelda had a plan.

“Mama? Can you do magic like the princess in the story?” her mother paused then smiled. She had just finished reading one of Zelda’s favorite fairy tales about two princesses working together with a Divine beast to defeat an evil king who had invaded both of their kingdoms. Zelda was certain that it was just a mythologized version of Twilight princess.

“Yes sweetie I can do magic just like the dawn princess in the story.” Zelda felt her eyes widen half in truth half to help set up her argument. She hadn’t actually expected her mom to just say magic was real, for all that she had been reincarnated, for all that she had changed species she still wasn't used to thinking of magic as anything more than a fairy tale.

“Can you show me mama? Please, please, please!” Zelda let her already large eyes go wide and hopeful. Come on, you don’t want to disappoint the baby do you?

A warm smile spread across her mothers face. “Ok little song bird I’ll show you my magic.” She lifted a single elegant hand and the world seemed to stop.

Floating above her palm appeared a fragile little mote of light. That alone was astonishing enough but alongside the little cheerful little light came a feeling of all encompassing peace and serenity. She could feel the metaphorical sound track of her life swell majesticly as she stared entranced. 

That was actual magic.

Oh my Hylia, that was honest to god magic.

She felt like she should be freaking out, but all she could do was stare in awe at that tiny little bit of divinity. It felt like warm sunshine on her face and a cool breeze on a hot day. Like staring up at the wide blue sky or the open sea on a bright summer's day and only being able to feel joy and awe at the beauty of the world around you. Like hearing bells as a child and being convinced that it had to be magic. Like a feeling of warm accomplishment and pride, like- like-

Her mother closed her hand and the warm loving light of hylia was gone.

And Zelda felt herself bereft and totally changed in its absence. 

Zelda had felt the divine for the first time and it warmed her soul from the bottom up, like drinking a warm cup of hot coco on a cold day and now that it was gone she just felt cold and sad. She could nearly feel tears welling up in her eyes. She needed to learn how to do that. 

She needed to learn how to do that yesterday.

“Can- can I learn to do that?” and suddenly it wasn't just about the end of the world anymore. Never had she so desperately wanted to learn something in her life before it was a near physical ache and a desperate need. This had been something that she had been missing all her life and she had never felt so complete- 

“Not yet my heart.” Her mother smoothed a warm hand over her hair and she could feel her face crumple into something devastated.

“Why not?” Was she not good enough? Could her mama tell that she wasn't worth it? That she wasn't the little girl who was supposed to be here? Who deserved to learn how to hold love and light and hope in her hands.

Her mother immediately pulled her into arms reassuringly, pressing a kiss to Zelda’s hairline. “Oh sweetie I’ll teach you myself eventually, your just not old enough yet” 

Frowning, Zelda twisted her head to look up at her mother. “Im smart enough! I wanna learn! I promise I’ll pay attention! I wanna learn now, please!”

“Oh sweetie I know you would, you're just not physically big enough yet. You need to be at least seven to be strong enough to hold the power of the goddess.”

Years- it would take YEARS. Zelda could feel her heart breaking in real time.

“Are you sure? Couldn't I at least try?” she basically begged.

“Yes dear one, I am certain. I am also certain that it is well past your bed time. You need to be getting to bed now.”

“But-”

“No buts, it's time for you to sleep.” she said soft but still stern.

Zelda could feel herself wilt. 

She was tired, maybe she would feel less broken in the morning.