If the Boot Fits

Greetings

Zelda sat stick-straight in her throne, greeting the men her father was forcing her to meet. Some fumbled over words and were rather kind, others were righteous and snobby, looking down upon her in the figurative sence. A long line of eligible men flowed down the grand staircase to the right. The announcer would take the man's card and shout his name over the many conversations bleeding together in the lower level of the Sanctum. Then the man would bow infront of Zelda, she would plaster a fake smile on her burning cheeks, and the man would file down the flight of stairs to the left. This process repeated so many times, Zelda forgot to smile or even notice the person kneeling before her. The King cleared his throaght behind her, snapping her attention back to the present.

She couldn't help that her mind kept wondering to the real problems of Hyrule. The ball was just to ease everyone's worries, to pretend nothing bad was happening. But Zelda knew better. She could be doing much better things right now, yet here she was.

"At least give them a chance," Urbosa said when there was a break in the line of men. She placed a hand on Zelda's arm. "You never know. You may find love."

"That's very kind of you, thank you," Zelda said in reply. "But I don't believe I will."

"Don't say that," Impa said behind her. "There are still plenty more."

"There are so many people here," Daruk added. "They're all wanting a chance to earn your trust. One of them you're sure to like."

Rhoam sighed behind him, but he didn't say a word as another round of men were announced. Urbosa's hand left, creating a sense of loneliness even though the entire kingdom was there. One of the few reasons Daruk and Urbosa were allowed to be next to the King and princess was because they were highly trusted friends and diplomatic acquaintances. Impa, her father's advisor, was also standing close by, though she was more of a personal guard to the princess. She gave Zelda an encouraging smile. Zelda was glad they were showing support, unlike her father, but she didn't need their encouragement. What she needed was her father to listen and understand. To call off the ball and trust her opinion. Her heart burned knowing he would never do that.

Zelda continued to smile and put on an act for the people when suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Her brows creased as the crowed hushed, quit dancing to the waltz. The music fizzled out as the orchestra glanced confusedly around. Zelda tried to see what was happening below, to no avail. She was able to catch a few nasty words and complaints running up the stairwell of men, until one hand gave the announcer a card. He took it, gulped, looked back at the person who had given him the card with worry creasing his face. Gulped again.

"A-Anouncing," he stuttered, "Ganondorf Dragmire!" He bit his lip, backing away as the Evil himself waltzed passed the stairs and infront of Zelda's throne.

He walked slowly and deliberately, as if wanting everyone to watch him. His skin had a green pallor to it, his dark red hair curling around his head and shaved thin on his sideburns. He was tall and muscular, carrying himself with a sense kingliness, showdows danced in his dark eyes. A smile played on his face, tempting anyone to stop him. Urbosa rested her hand on the pommel of the Scimitar of the Seven, shifting her position along with Daruk and Impa. Ganondorf bowed at Zelda's feet. Fear swelled within her.

"Your Highness," his tongue toyed with the words, tested them. "What a pleasure it is to finally meet you." He stood, placing a fist across his chest in salute to Urbosa. "My Chieftain. What a suprise!"

Urbosa curtly nodded and scowled, shifting on her feet again. Daruk took a step closer to him while Impa came to stand next to Urbosa. King Rhoam clenched his fists around the armrests.

"No need to be so tense!" Ganondorf continued with a tricking smile. The glint in his eyes hinted at the fun this was giving them. "Please! Please!" he called to the rest of the room. He waved at the orchestra to play. They hesitently and shakily picked up a song. "That's more like it!" He turned back to face Zelda. "I hope to share a dance later this evening?"

It sounded like a command to Zelda, but she couldn't deny him right now. She had to play whatever game he set up. She just had to be extremely cautious and plan for the worst.

With one last smile, Ganondorf swept down the stairs, black cape trailing behind him. Instead of releasing a tight breath, Zelda sucked in a gulp of air through her teeth. He was here, and there was nothing she could do about it.

The announcer shakily called out the next group's names. "Lord Ghirahim, and his two sons, Zant and Groose."

The group bowed infront of Zelda, devilish smiles creasing two of their faces. The only one who looked as uncomfortable as Zelda was the one with the strange red hair. A pebble of familiarity panged in her stomach, though she didn't know why. She had never seen him before. As the group straightened, the redhead's eyes found hers. She swiftly changed her line of sight, but not before catching his golden eyes. Why was he so familiar? Groose, was that his name? His name didn't ring a bell, yet he planted unwanted curiosity in her veins.

The lord and his sons continued down the staircase to the bottom floor. Zelda forced her attention to sweep over the next man, focusing on the embroiderd details of his coat to keep her mind off the last few events. This didn't work as well as she wanted, and her hopes of forgetting the pressing matters fell to ruins as her eye caught on movement in the back of the Sanctum, where no one else stood.

A young man dressed in simple garments slowly wondered around the pillars lining the walls. Zelda couldn't see his face from here, but his strange distance from the rest of the party-goers added to her growing curiosity and anxiousness. She watched the boy, completely ignoring the one before her, as he turned a corner, wondering off to the bridge just outside of the Sanctum. It wasn't off-limits to the guests, but it was a secluded place to be at a ball.

"May I take a break, Father?" Zelda asked just as another man was announced. "I need to stretch my legs."

Rhoam sighed, glancing between her and the line of suitors. "All right," he granted. "But you must return soon."

"I will, thank you." Zelda's lips turned up in a genuine smile. She excused herself from the man infront of her, lifting herself out of the throne. She almost felt bad for the disappointed look that befell his face. Almost.

Folding her hands over her dress, Zelda descended the empty staircase. She ignored the people who called her name, decisively walking through the Sanctum to the bridge that overlooked the gardens.

And there he was.

He slowly walked along the bridge with a hand on the wall, peering over the edge at the flowering garden. The cloak he wore hid most of his structure, but Zelda could see the lean muscle on his body. His hair was slightly messy, even though the longer strands were pulled back at the nape of his neck.

Zelda cleared her throaght, making the boy jump. "Excuse me."

The boy turned, eyes darting everywhere. When they finally settled on Zelda, he relaxed only a little. He didn't bow or introduce himself. Any other person would jump at the chance to meet the princess, but he just stood still, eyes wide.

"What is your name?" Zelda asked.

"Link." His response was immediate. He sucked in a sharp breath, clenched his fists, and turned his head away. His reactions were strange, but it was his name that shocked Zelda.

Link.

The Hero of Hyrule.

The Sword's Chosen One.

The wielder of the Triforce of Courage.

Here.

Now, of all times.

Zelda placed a hand on the cool stone wall to steady her shaking body. She took in his appearance again, suddenly recognizing simular features she had seen the Chosen Hero depicted with in aincent paintings. A green tunic. Crisp trousers. Dirty-blond hair. A boyish yet strong physique. Bright blue eyes that held the sparkle of hope, though that hope seemed to grow fainter under her watch.

He just stared, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh. Did he not know? Did he not understand? Would Zelda have to tell him everything? Where would she even start?

At the beginning. That's where.

"Do you mind if we talk?" Zelda asked with a steady voice.