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LoZ: The Reflection Behind the Door Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2020-04-22 18:08:30 +0000 UTCWritten by: Undertaker33
Artwork by: Better-With-Salt
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The carriage rolled to a halt before the candy shop. Vesmas exited first before extending to Zelda a guiding hand. She dismounted and had to force herself to retain her pace instead of frivolously dancing her way into the colorful shop.
The bell tolled upon her entrance, and her eyes turned quickly, inspecting the shop with a more thorough eye. Gummies, candies, delectable treats, and a section dedicated exclusively to the delicious chocolates. Vesmas followed her into the shop with nary a sound, while Zelda happily hummed as she moved over to the chocolates and began inspecting each jar.
From the back, she heard Ianua’s leathery voice. “Just a moment, please!”
“Take your time,” Zelda assured. Then, to herself, “I cannot decide which I desire most.”
Vesmas spoke from behind her. “You are allowed more than one option,” he said, as if to remind her.
Zelda, who had been so convinced that she’d been getting soft over recent weeks, had entirely forgotten all concerns in the face of so much sweets. She reached over and lifted a jar of chocolate mints. It was heavier than she’d expected, at least five pounds in the simple jar. Next to it, another container was packed with strawberries that had been immersed in chocolate coating. Another was labeled as ‘Cow Chocolates,’ slabs cut in the shape of cows, with rich deep brown mixed with a lighter color that Zelda prayed was caramel.
The final object that caught Zelda’s eye was a much smaller container, which showed chocolate chopped into individual squares, stacked in pillars with paper dividers. The tops of the chocolates showed, again, the insignia of the Triforce upon them. “I don’t remember this shop,” Vesmas muttered whilst looking around.
“My dear girl!” cried the old woman as she hobbled through from the back of the shop, hunched forwards while she moved. She walked with tiny steps over to Zelda around the bend of the counter and reached out her hands. “It is wonderful to see you once more, twice in one day!”
Zelda smiled, reached out and returned the touch. “I felt the need to return and to pay my debt,” she paused, “and maybe purchase a few more of your delectable treats.” Zelda noticed the warmth of Ianua’s hands while they shook, and realized that the older woman’s hands were coated in drying chocolate. She withdrew her hand, and it came away lightly sticky.
“Oh, goodness, me!” the old woman shouted. “I am so sorry, I’m making more in the back.”
Zelda raised her hand and lightheartedly chortled. “Do not fret, just don’t charge me for this.”
The old woman rubbed her fingers over her apron. “I must be losing myself. Allow me to offer you another box, as an apology.”
Zelda did not want to say yes, but she could not say no. Instead, she bowed her head. “Thank you.”
Ianua took another of her boxes off of the shelf, the spot above the now vacant spot of the one already given to Zelda. It was noticeably larger than the first box had been.
Zelda said nothing while she placed it nearby the register.
“Yes, that’ll do.” the woman hurried back to Zelda. “What can I get you?”
“I would like to purchase some chocolates, please.”
First, Zelda ordered a quarter-pound of the strawberries. Then, she upped it to a half-pound, when she saw just how small a quarter-pound looked. Then, with her mind reminding her just how healthy strawberries were for you, she upped it once more to a full pound. “And I’ll take a half-pound of chocolate truffles, a quarter pound of the mints, one of the small towers of the square cut slabs, and a box worth of some chocolate dipped cookies!” Zelda pointed to each, merrily bouncing around the shop.
Ianua worked slow, far slower than the verbosity with which Zelda was placing her order. The girl looked on with unabashed excitement while she bagged up each set of chocolates, though the princess felt the strong pull of her gaze to continue looking over the other jars and candies, feeling restless and wanting to order even more. She pressed up to the glass of a few different treats, peering in and trying to determine the exact makeup of each.
“Madam, if you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been opened here?” Vesmas asked the saleswoman, while Zelda was bent over what seemed to be a jar filled with gelatin spiders.
“Oh we only just set up shop recently, dear. I’m new in town, and used to make gourmet candies out in the villages, but villagers ain’t got much time for candy.” Ianua said.
Vesmas grunted. “Well, you’ve certainly gained an enthusiastic customer,” he asided to her, watching Zelda’s hips waggle while she lifted a jar of what looked to be sparkling footwear before shaking her head and returning it to its place. “Your painting, too, is quite professional.”
Ianua looked backwards to the rear wall. “Thank you, but she’s actually stained glass,” the old woman said. Up above the stacks of boxed chocolates, leaning against the stone wall, was a depiction of a youthful looking woman with dark violet hair and deep crimson eyes. She wore an outfit of purple and white, and a tiara of darkened gold round her brow.
With their transaction completed, Vesmas exited the shop carrying most of the princess’s order, while she immediately broke into and munched down a few of the chocolate mints before following in his wake. They returned to the carriage and made their way towards the castle.
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Vesmas was an experienced Captain. He’d seen both cruel acts of villainy as well as great ones of debauchery. He had not, however, seen a massacre such as that performed by Princess Zelda upon her bag of mints, and then the poor container of chocolate strawberries.
Before they had even settled into the carriage, Zelda was lifting entire handfuls of sweets and letting them trickle into her waiting mouth. They spilt into her with nary time to be chewed before her throat would bob and swallow the tiny chocolates down. Vesmas had been ready to comment about her apparent hunger when she dropped another into her mouth, and another, ensuring each piece joined the other down inside of her awaiting stomach.
Vesmas blinked his eyes and tried not to gawk at Princess Zelda’s swollen middle. He was failing. The smooth curve was pressed against her dress now, tightly packed against the fabric of her clothes. He could see how her waist seemed to fill with each breath, the pink of her tunic resembling her soft and supple flesh while subtly crawling over the top and underside of her belt. He tried to convince himself that the lady had simply tied her clothing too tightly today but was placed off kilter by the satisfied grumble her belly made. It grew worse with the heavy breath which passed over her lips. Chocolate had begun to melt inside of her right hand, and beads of sweat were beginning to form upon her brow. Her enjoyment was quite uncomfortable to watch, yet it remained captivating.
She cast the empty mint bag aside after only a moment, and had begun squeezing the first of the strawberries between her fingers when Vesmas took the opportunity to speak. “This is where you came when you left the castle this morning?” he asked.
Zelda jumped, then looked to him with wide eyes.
Vesmas blinked at her. Had she forgotten he was here?
The princess cleared her throat. “Yes, it would seem.” She rolled the strawberry between her fingers. “I believe that I highly desired some sweets after the strange happenings of the night. Nobody saw me exit the castle, because I had accidentally teleported myself to the shop.”
Vesmas tilted his head, furrowing his brow. “‘Accidentally’ teleported? You can do that?”
“So, it would seem,” she said lowly, looking at the strawberry with a sever expression. “I felt it would behoove me to obtain something, as I’d obviously meant to be there, and have to say that I’m quite glad that I did.”
With that, she popped the strawberry into her mouth whole. She shivered and loosened an excited sigh. “I see…” Captain Vesmas said. He did not mention his ignorance of Zelda being able to teleport at all, let alone by mistake.
He turned his gaze from the princess in an attempt to allow her privacy, yet he could not help but turn his eye back to her as she took down each strawberry with greater enjoyment than the last. Her hunger seemed insatiable, but luckily she seemed to retain the thought to not allow the explosions of juice from the fruits to drip all the way from her lips to stain her dress, even if her fingers were beginning to resemble the chocolate makers in their layer of sticky sweetness.
The carriage passed the town square and made for the castle. In the short span of ten minutes, Zelda had eaten nearly two pounds of chocolate, and each mouthful showed around her middle. The curve of a potbelly smoothed out her stomach, packed with her prize of delicious sweets. Again, she felt the pressure of her belt upon her, but paid it no heed.
“Do you teleport such long distances often?” the Captain asked her.
Zelda felt a prick of irritation at this interruption. She made the choice to continue eating while giving her responses, though she covered her mouth. “No, it seems to be a developing power.”
Vesmas nodded. “Do you think you could teleport to somewhere you wanted?”
Zelda swallowed, taking another strawberry into her mouth. “Eventually.”
He nodded again, though remained silent. The tug of the princess’s eyebrows was more than apparent to dictate the woman’s mood, though it quickly switched back to a rather enthused manner when she resumed devouring her treats. Still, the visage made him stir in his seat, and he felt the need to continue. “What shall we tell the royal guard? If you’re to suddenly vanish once more, the panic would only mount.”
Zelda scowled at him. “I suppose they should check the candy shop then, shouldn’t they?”
Vesmas bowed. “Yes, princess.”
Zelda huffed and dropped the strawberry back into the bag, then turned and scowled out the window. After a moment, her fingers unraveled the bag, and she lifted another strawberry to her lips, taking a bite out of it and mulling it over.
The complex expression of surprise that came over the princess was more discomforting than her feasting had been. She looked down at her own fingers in a mix of awe and disquieted shock. She flexed her fingers, and the strawberry fell from her hand and onto her lap. “Is everything alright, Princess?”
Zelda picked the strawberry off of her dress and plopped it into her mouth, taking time to chew it and considering before speaking. “Yes, Captain. Apologies. I suppose it’s just my hunger, or perhaps my worries upon my mind.”
Vesmas said nothing.
Zelda finished off the bag and crumpled it up, placing it with the others. “I desire some clear air to clean my senses,” she said.
“We’re arriving to the castle, now. I’m sure you’ll have more than some short hours to do so.”
A few minutes passed, and the carriage came to a rest before the main doors to the castle. Vesmas began to gather Zelda’s belongings. The girl reached forth and thumbed the release to the carriage door and made her way through. The captain stacked the bags of sweets on top of the books, balancing them carefully before turning to the door.
Princess Zelda was nowhere to be seen.
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Private Karloff Tartan rubbed the bridge of his nose. Today was proving to be an especially long day, and the recruit was still adjusting to life in the guard. The twelve-hour shifts got to be quite demanding, and there were so many things to learn. You had to pick up how to keep an even pace for a march, what times the shops closed and opened, how to keep an ear out to listen to the common man speak.
One of the most important things that Tartan had determined were in the few cases where he’d caught someone in the act of villainy. He’d quickly learned that he needed to be fast to keep up as the suspect fled from the scene, and he learned even quicker that he couldn’t be too fast, or else he might make the mistake of catching them.
But nowhere in the manual of the guard did it say anything about royal greetings or proper escort procedures. At least, Tartan assumed it didn’t. He’d never read the thing. Who had the time? There were walks to walk and postings to post, and it wasn’t like he was ever going to meet the ruler of Hyrule anyways.
At least, that’s what he’d thought until this morning. He still felt pulls of shame in his gut from being caught so off guard. He was the guard, how could he not be on guard?
He looked up into the sky, checking the position of the sun. One of the tricks he had gained on was telling the time of day by its position. As it slowly descended from its arch, Tartan ascertained he’d only a few more hours until his shift would complete. He went along his path, walking along the cobbles and feeling the familiarity of the commonly walked streets.
He made his way round the street corner and headed towards the town square, reflecting inwardly about the oddity of the name when really the center of town was a giant circle, encompassing the city’s historic fountain. Tartan spotted the impressive construction from far off as he rounded a final corner and approached the city center.
It should be called the town circle, Tartan resolved, feeling it was his duty to correct the name the next chance that he got.
Thoughts of geometry were lost upon him when a group of three girls and two men hustled out from a nearby tavern with hurried shouts. Private Tartan looked to them, and then past them into the tavern when he realized that one of the young men was waving and calling for the others to follow, with a rather excited shout. “You’ll miss it, they’re about to start! Let’s go!”
The girls ran like dainty quaintrelles, quickly being left behind by their male counterparts, yet giddy with one another. Tartan raised an eyebrow and quickly made to follow.
As he came into the center, he spotted very few patrons of the businesses about the stores. Indeed, it seemed more than a fair number of shop owners has placed closed signs upon their doors.
Tartan’s eyes followed the girls to the assembly. A mass of people had grouped nearby the multi-layered fountain, and there were high calls and jeers thrown inside. At least four dozen people had come together. The crowd was filled with shouts, laughs, and general merriment.
The guard felt a bout of panic. General merriment was usually a clear sign of illegal activities! There could be a fight going on, or some sort of mob! Or worse, what if they were protestors! Tartan couldn’t deal with protestors! Depending on the issue, he was as likely to join them as to jail them.
He hurried over to the group, readying his guards whistle. “What’s going on here?!” he demanded.
He was ignored. The crowd was packed tightly in the semi-circle, and even this close, he couldn’t see inside. A hand raised from inside of the pack, and Tartan spotted something being thrown forth.
Tartan blew on his whistle, sending a shriek of sound into the ears of the nearby patrons. He shouted, moving forwards and shoving his way into the crowd. “Make way! Make way! In the name of the guard, you will make way!”
There were protested shouts as he pushed his way through, but they were shortly quieted by the burst of his whistle. Tartan inwardly hoped others had heard and were hurrying to his aid, though he had no time to wait as the person in the center was all too likely abused.
People began to notice him, and he was given a space of breathing room as the crowd flexed outwards from him. People in front of him stepped aside quickly, and the crowd moved one step outwards to accommodate, though they quickly reformed around him, and the cheering never ceased.
As he grew closer, Tartan could see a figure moving rapidly in the center of the circle. It was then that he saw another person throw an object into the center, and the figure deftly caught it before pointing back at the man.
“Another twenty on Do!” called the dark man wearing the colorful jacket, waving a red rupee in the air to a fresh cheer from the thrower. Tartan recognized Rufio, the Gamesmaster of the nearby tavern, and squinted his brow in confusion. He approached the inner edge of the circle and saw into the center, and his mouth dropped open. The whistle hung loosely, forgotten around his neck.
Sitting at a square table in the center of the circle in the town circle were four figures, one to each side. Two of them were broad, hearty men, wearing workers overalls and dark checkered shirts. One of the men thick with beard, while the other was freshly shaven.
The third the assembly was a bounteous woman, with flame colored hair and who wore a deeply cut dress that flaunted her abundant breasts and her smooth, round shoulders. Tartan recognized her as from the same tavern as Rufio.
The final member of the table sat facing the crowd, her long blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Tartan recognized Princess Zelda, and watched as she daintily lifted a forkful of pie to her mouth before chewing it over and swallowing it down. The girl merrily chomped upon the large portion of pie before swallowing and reaching for another.
She’d unbuckled her belt at some point, which now hung loosely from the chair, drawing the eye towards the flowing curves of her bottom. Tartan could hardly look away from was the girl’s engorged belly. The fabric of her dress was obviously stretched, creased in multiple places round the tightened dome. Its contents caused it to wobble softly while the girl continued onwards, eating unabashed along with her obese companions. The other three dwarfed Zelda, yet the girl simply kept going back for the next bite, fitting in well with the hungry company.
Behind the table, standing on the edge of the fountain, a lively young boy was preforming an excitable dance and enjoying the thrill of the show. He wore a festive purple mask to cover his face, and twirled about next to a seated, elderly woman with long violet hair. On the other side of the woman, a balding gentleman with a thick mustache. Tartan recognized him as well, the proprietor of the towns pie shop. They both were tittering mildly as they appreciated the show, while the young one danced and danced and danced.
“Is this all you have, folks?” Rufio called to the crowd. “The pies on the table cost more than you’re willing to bet! Show your loyalty, earn your money!”
He turned to the boy and launched the ruby rupee. The boy caught it and dropped it into a bucket, lifting a board to the cheers of the crowd. Tartan’s eyes quickly scanned the board, reading the names and determining the meaning of the marks as more calls for bets came in from the crowd. Rufio would scoop up any dropped change and point at the thrower, confirming their bid upon the contestants, and the child would mark them on the board next to the names of Do, Pheobe, La, and Princess Zelda.
Tartan watched, turning back to those eating the pies and then back to the board. The other three contestants were eating with naught but their hands, slamming down bites quickly while Zelda slowly but surely continued her dining. Tartan determined that Do was the man with the beard, who ate fiercely and quickly, clearly in the lead. That would make the next man La, while Pheobe had to be the maiden who sat to Zelda’s side. He felt his eyes go wider as Do slammed a meaty fist upon his now empty tin, pulling another forth while the child marked it in another section with a vertical line.
Money kept pouring in while Tartan counted. Do had finished five pies and was tearing into a sixth when La polished his own fifth off. Pheobe was trailing the men, only just finishing her fourth, and Princess Zelda brought up the rear, pushing her third tray aside and pulling number four to her front. The others ate quickly, fingers and faces dirty with the sticky substance, while Zelda chugged along and seemed to heartily enjoy each and every bite.
Tartan looked again to the board, now counting the bets. The child was clearly marking the bets upon each contestant with a / for 5 and an X for 10. He counted over 270 rupees upon Do, the frontrunner of the race. On La, there was only 120, perhaps clear that the man was slowing down. Pheobe had 210 on her, no doubt thanks to some dedicated patrons, but she chugged along and showed only small signs of fullness. Princess Zelda’s name took up twice the space as each of the others, and nearly so did her wagers. Her constituents obviously placed their faith in the princess, with 380 rupees wagered upon the girl.
There were some calls from the crowd for a time limit, no doubt from those betting on the frontrunner. The gamemaster ignored them, gesturing to the table. “Is that all you think of these merry men?! Of these hearty ladies?!” he called.
At the mention of ladies, Zelda looked up to the crowd, and Tartan felt his own stomach flutter at the pure and genuine smile that creased the princess’s lips. She held up a hand and waved to the crowd, and there was a roar of approval before she returned to the feast.
Fresh bets came in, and Rufio was set calling each piece. The bets swelled nearly as much as Zelda’s stomach had from this morning, with the tight little potbelly waggling beneath her finery. Her dress was lethargic, yet the girl continued onwards with indescribable willpower, finishing her fourth and soon her fifth pie.
La tapped out, unable to finish pie number seven, and pushed himself back from the table to sit with his hands hanging loosely at his sides. Do, too, was breathing heavily, struggling to finish pie number eight, but the girls munched onwards, and the betting grew more enthusiastic.
Vigorous shouts from all sides poured into the circle, again with more demands for Rufio to call the game short. He continued to count, playing up the crowd, and collecting the money with the dancing little boy.
“That makes 400! 400 on the big man, Do, can we get to five? Who here thinks this guys got a chance against Her Royal Highness?!” the gamemaster asked.
Da raised his hand and gave a weak call, but it elicited a vigorous cry from the crowd.
Rufio shouted, “And who here has faith in our lady from above, Princess of Hyrule and Champion of Sweets?!”
Zelda looked up from her next portion midbite. She looked from Rufio to the waiting crowd and her cheeks tinged with a giddy blush while she enthusiastically bade to her people. The scream of the crowd was deafening, and bets fired inwards with quick tosses. Rufio called out number after number, having each marked upon the board.
Do, with 520 rupees resting upon his shoulders, relinquished after finishing pie number 9. The man gave an onerous grunt, pushing his empty pie tin into the pile with the rest, before sagging backwards in his chair. Instantly, Rufio cut off all bets, and tension rapidly rose while the women continued eating.
Princess Zelda was almost done with pie number six, while Pheobe was midway through her seventh. Do, with heavy lidded eyes, said something to the girls that was lost in the cheers. Pheobe guffawed, snorting piggishly into her arm while her amble chest heaved with laugher. Zelda, meanwhile, had turned positively scarlet, though her grin grew sharper upon her face. She placed her fork down to the side, lifting the remaining section of pie to her mouth with her bare hand, and staring down Do, took an exceptionally large bite.
The crowd went nuts, whoops and hollers from onlookers while Zelda demolished the rest of the pie and pulled out her next. She looked up, scanning the crowd and looking absolutely thrilled while cutting her seventh pie. She sliced the baked good into quarters before discarding her utensils and using her hands to lift her first portion to her mouth. Again, the crowd screamed, and Da cheered alongside them. Zelda’s pace had quickened, and she had half of the pie down before Pheobe managed the next quarter.
The bar maiden surrendered with a great sigh, splaying both hands over her wide stomach. She puckered her lips and watched Zelda pass her by with her eyebrows nearly reaching her red hairline, though she joined with the crowd with a resounding praise when Princess Zelda finished her seventh.
Tartan had to commend the princess’s will. He’d have thought that the girl couldn’t manage one pie, yet here she was stomaching an eighth. It was almost unnerving, yet he couldn’t help but appreciate her appetite. Her stomach looked packed, sitting plainly upon her lap and folding over her dress. It was a miracle in itself that it hadn’t begun to tear, though the first signs of breakage began to show upon the girl’s demeanor.
She ate faster now, as if in a bid to finish, and slammed the pie down. Yet somehow, she was managing to keep herself nearly clean of the mess. Only minor marks of juices clung to her lips, though her fingers were quickly darkening with stains of the feast.
Zelda again looked to the faces of her people as they cheered her forth. She seemed inspired by them, fired up from their belief, and went into pie number nine with weighty gusto. Do looked to the crowed and began to beat his fist on the table, and the quickly took up the chant.
“Zel-da! Zel-da! Zel-da!”
Rufio moved to the side, allowing the star of the show to shine brightly to their cheers. She giggled like a young lady, sheepishly yet thoroughly entertained by their calls, and was clapped on the back by Do when she finished the final piece of her ninth pie. Pheobe slid another forth, not waiting for the princess to take her own.
Zelda loosed an encumbered groan, allowing her hand to press to the roof of her stomach. Her fingers left small marks of pie filling upon the white of her dress, yet she paid it no mind while she tackled her final obstacle. Zelda dug into the final pie with exhilarating fervor, seeming hardly to chew between her gorging bites. Gluttony became the vice of the crowd, and they ate it up like so many pies while she finished number ten before rolling back in her seat, eyes to the sky and hands hugging her middle. The boy on the fountain cast the board into the air, and the crowd hollered with delight.
Rufio came forth, not missing a beat. He said something to Zelda, who was breathing heavily through her mouth, yet still somehow managed to sit back up and nod her head. Rufio turned and shouted out to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you, your Princess Zelda! Your champion!” Rufio took Zelda’s arm, raising it high above her head. Zelda moaned at the movement, leaning into it and chuckled at the nickname before flashing a tooth filled smile to the crowd. Her eyes were crinkled with glee.
Then, the large men Do and La went to either side of the girl, helping her stand from her seat. They struggled for a brief moment before bodily raising her, and cheering with everyone while the princess tried, and failed, to hide her overwhelming joy. Behind her, the elderly pair stood to applaud the winner, and the festive boy danced upon the fountain, blonde hair flowing in the breeze.
The people of the town circle were quick to adjust. Princess Zelda had plopped back into her seat at the table, and Rufio had taken up the area next to her. The table had been cleared, making room for his ledger and the bag of rupees. Betters lined up, coming to claim their winnings, but far more people had formed simply to meet with Princess Zelda.
Tartan watched, unsure of what to do, whilst the people went to and spoke to her. The girl looked tired, though her eyes were alit for every conversation. She was living for this, he thought to himself, as she reached forwards and shook hands with a man. Though hers were still sticky with the sweets, the man didn’t seem to mind.
Tartan made his way forth, passing by the populace and rounding the side of the table to come up besides the princess. Zelda, who was currently speaking with a small girl, did not break focus.
“You’re so cool!” the little girl shouted. “My mommy said that you never leave the castle, and I thought I’d never get to meet you, but here you are and you’re just the best ever!”
Zelda laughed, though it sounded a slight bit slow. “Well, thank you,” she told the girl. “I don’t get out as often as I should, but I do always look forwards to meeting with all of my people.”
“Especially,” Rufio cut in from the side, “if you offer her free food.”
Zelda glared at him, though she wore an amused smirk.
“Oh, we have that!!” the little girl shout. “My mom makes us dinner like every day, you should come some day!”
Zelda grinned kindly down to her. “I’d have to check with my staff, but I’d like that.”
The little girl sprinted off. “Mommy! Mommy! Princess Zelda is going to come over for dinner!!”
The princess grimaced, watching the girl run off to her mother. She sighed. “I should come down more often than I do,” she said.
Tartan did not know how to reply to this, so he simply cleared his throat, being sure to avoid looking at her.
Princess Zelda looked over to him. She waited.
Private Tartan nearly kicked himself in his teeth. He pounded his chest thrice, allowing his hand to rest over his beating heart for a few moments, before replacing it back at attention. “Princess, do you currently have a guard assigned to your person?” he asked.
Zelda hummed for a moment before answering. “I do now.”
Tartan felt his back straighten just a little more. The pain in his feet seemed to fade, and he felt boundless pride. He didn’t even feel the need to groan. “Understood, Princess.”
He stood at her side whilst others came to meet her. Some asked for autographs, most simply wanted to touch her hand. Zelda was greatly amused at one woman who, on returning to her husband, told him royalty felt stickier than she had imagined.
While she sat, Zelda allowed her Will to fade into the background, and begin to rebuild. She’d expunged much of her willpower during the competition and was beginning to really feel the effect of the pies on her body.
She noticed that, at some point, she’d unclasped the buckle of her belt. She huffed in severe annoyance. She must’ve looked like an utter slob, allowing it to hang as it were. It made her soft body look even softer, which she found severely displeasing. She took it from the seat and attempted raised the belt round her belly, but sudden throbs of discomfort made it more than apparent that was not going to work.
She felt sluggish, now, and her stomach was throbbing with her skin nearly as tight as her dress. It had been so much fun, though, and it’d been so long since Zelda had participated in anything fun. It was much different than the normal acknowledgement of her person that she’d received, these people saw her as something other than just some ruler. They knew she was alive. She enjoyed that immeasurably, even if it came from such a silly act as the contest.
Zelda tugged the belt free from behind and tried to fold it into her lap. She found little space, as most of it was occupied by her sensitive belly. She had to bite her lip, lifting the stuffed orb an inch to slide the belt beneath, trying to obscure it.
The next person to come forth was Pheobe, the woman who she had competed against. Pheobe nodded to the princess with a large grin. “That was a right good show you put on.”
“Thank you, you also did very well,” Princess Zelda replied.
“If ya ever feel the want to come down and have a meal with us common folk,” the barmaid offered, “you come on over to The Silver Sailboat, and I’ll make sure you’re treated well.”
“Here you are, Pheobe,” Rufio said, placing a large sack upon the table. “Two hundred rupees for your dutiful bet.”
Zelda looked from the sack up to Pheobe. The woman winked. “I can tell when a girl’s got an appetite.” She poked her own belly, “I lived with one long enough.”
Zelda returned the buxom woman’s grin, and Pheobe moved off into the town square at her slow and swaying plod, making her way towards the tavern.
The rest of the line petered out, with the rest of the people kindly congratulating the princess on her hard-fought victory. Finally, it came to just Zelda and Rufio sitting at the table. The gamemaster swung his ledger shut and picked up his hat. “Well, my Lady, it’s been more than a pleasure to serve you today, and thank you for the show that you’ve provided for me.”
Zelda grinned to him. “Please, it was my pleasure.”
“I do hope you take our other lady’s offer and visit us sometime and The Silver Sailboat, though I’d suggest not taking her on in a drinking fight. She’s the heaviest I’ve ever seen,” he said with a smirk.
Zelda shook her head. “I don’t think I will. I’ve never had alcohol, besides.”
Rufio pulled from besides his chair, a large bag of jingling rupees. “Here you are, the winnings you’ve earned.”
Zelda took the bag with a gracious bow. Rufio took his chair, folded it inwards, and left for the tavern. Now, all that was left was Zelda, sitting at the empty table, with her guard standing over her. She sat there for some time, watching as the people returned to their daily business. Some of the shops reopened for the evening, whilst others remained closed and their owners presumably just went home. Numerous Hylians wandered round the town square. She enjoyed watching them go about their days. The people were right. She did not get out enough.
“Princess, may I ask, are we waiting for something?” spoke Private Tartan.
Zelda tilted her head, regarding him from the corner of her eye. She sighed. The sensation of tightness around her middle strained once more into pain, though she hid it well. “To speak openly,” she said quietly, “I’m not entirely sure I can work up the ability to stand right now.”
There was a moment of silence before he responded. “Understood, Princess.” Another minute passed before he spoke again. “Would you… umm… like me to… carry you?”
Princess Zelda turned fully to look up to her guard. Beads of sweat were dripping from his face at an alarming rate, though again Zelda couldn’t help but find it heartening. “No,” she giggled, “I don’t think that entirely necessary. However, we’ve to still return Ms. Ianua’s table, as well as her chair.”
“The candy shop owner?” Tartan asked.
Zelda hummed the affirmative.
Tartan spoke, “I can bring the table to her now, if you desire.”
Zelda brushed a hand past her ear. “Yes, that will do fine. I shall be ready to move once you return.”
“Yes, Princess.” Tartan moved round her side to the table, and Zelda found herself a slight surprised by the ease of which he lifted the awkwardly large table up and over his head before marching off towards the candy shop. It reminded her of another young man whom she’d watched years ago.
Zelda felt a pang of worry deep down in her belly. She hoped Link was well, wherever he was. She felt a sense of shame at not keeping up with him, but what was she supposed to do? Tell him he had to stay with her at the castle? Ganon had been resurrected and then struck down once more, he’d done his divine duty and was free to live as he pleased.
The thought of resurrection stuck out in Zelda’s mind as a shard of sharp glass. Something about it bothered her. She tried to remember, and it slowly came back to her.
The invasion of Lorule. The mirror world, the dark world, who was intent upon reviving Ganon so they could try to control him and to steal the Triforce. It’d been almost as many years since Zelda had given thought to her counterpart, as well meaning as she may have been. The kingdoms were sealed off from one another, and in the end, Zelda and Link had restored their realm.
Zelda tried to remember her counterparts name. She’d only known the girl for mere moments, yet she knew that the princess had made very serious mistakes… still, she had done so with the intention of saving her people.
Another emotion dropped into Zelda’s chest. Shame. She looked up, watched the passing smiles of her people.
What was she doing here? She had books to research, an evil to combat. Even if the threat was still unknown, she had to treat it as possibly world threatening. She owed it to these people, as their leader, to make sure they are cared for. To make sure they’re right.
Anger now beat inside of her heart, fury at herself for allowing such a selfish distraction. There was no reason she couldn’t have refused Ianua’s idea for the festival, even if it meant shooting down the old woman’s excitement.
No, she realized. She couldn’t have done that. It was her third time in that shop today, and she’d been taken aback when she realized her return, and even more upset when she’d no money to purchase something and leave. She’d made conversation with the old woman and had agreed to her idea for the impromptu festival. She didn’t think she regretted the feast… though considering how her tummy felt, she was quickly regretting winning.
Tartan returned to find Zelda deep in thought, with evident irritation written across her face. “Shall we go, Princess?” he asked.
Zelda paused for a moment. She rubbed at one of her eyes and felt herself catch a long yawn down in her throat. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “Let’s be on our way.”
She made to stand up from her chair, though her belly pushed downwards onto and disabled her legs, with sudden pangs of pain springing forth. Zelda reached beneath her belly, removing the pinch of her belt, and braced her hands upon her knees in order to heft herself from her seat. Tartan, thank the Goddesses, did not try to help her, allowing her the small victory of rising under her own power. He took the chair from behind her, and they began to walk over to Ianua’s candy shop.
Zelda noticed the slow and even pace that Tartan walked beside her. Meanwhile, she felt almost as if she were limping, carrying the mass of food almost as if she were with child. She grumbled under her breath about the circumstance, though appreciated the Private’s silence and his matching speed.
Ianua was waiting for them near the entrance of the shop. “Thank you, again,” she said to Tartan. “I can take this inside from here.”
Tartan placed the chair down upon the stone and returned to attention.
Ianua turned to Zelda. “Such fine young guards.”
Zelda nodded with a hum. Then, she spoke, “I want to again show my appreciation to you and all you’ve done for me today. I feel I’ve been, perhaps, burdening in my repeat visits today.”
“Nonsense,” Ianua responded by waving a dismissive hand. “Do not fret, you’ve become more than a simple welcome customer.”
“Be that as it may,” Zelda went on, “I want to extend this to you as a show of my appreciation.” She held out the jingling sack of rupees, the winnings from her festivity.
Ianua looked from the bag back to Zelda. “I could not take this,” she said raising a hand. “These are your winnings, and yours alone.”
Zelda insisted. “I ask that you do. I’ve no need for extra money, and I doubt I’ll be going hungry after such a feast.”
Ianua sighed. “No, I suppose not. But please, allow me to offer you a return gift as well.”
The princess sighed. She couldn’t refuse a gift from the woman, the same as she couldn’t very well enter her shop without purchasing something. It was beyond impolite, and far beneath her duties. “I’ll accept.”
Ianua nodded and turned, heading into the door. Two minutes later, she reemerged from the shop carrying a large box of chocolates, with three bags stacked on top. “Here, these are for you.”
“This seems like more than one gift,” Zelda pointed out.
“A gift is a gift if all is given. The bag has more than one rupee inside of it,” Ianua replied.
Zelda nodded. “Fair, enough.”
Ianua took the jangling sack of money and Zelda took the bags and box of sweets. The gamemaster’s call, ‘Champion of Sweets’ flickered across her mind, and she blushed.
“I wish the pair of you a good night,” Ianua dropped her head before heading back inside.
Zelda looked up into the sky. Sunset had begun. It’d take quite some time to walk back to her castle from her, and her feet had begun to ache, though still not matching the twinges in her middle. She looked to Tartan. “Is there any chance you know of a carriage that could take me home?” she asked.
Tartan nodded. “We have a few at each guardhouse. I got my clearance to drive last week, should need be.”
“The need be,” Princess Zelda said with a chuckle. “Please, take me there.”
Tartan took the lead, and Princess Zelda followed him to the nearest guardhouse that was just outside of the city square. They did not go inside, instead going round the side of the building and into a small area with carriages parked one by one. Tartan helped Zelda into the passenger seat, as she insisted on riding with her guard to enjoy the cool breeze of evening, and then secured two horses to the cart before pulling them off.
When they arrived at the castle, the sun was setting behind the buildings, and Zelda was able to spot the carriage Captain Vesmas had earlier brought her in, still sitting where they’d stopped. A number of her royal guard stood guard over the carriage.
“Who approaches?” challenged one of the guards.
“Private Tartan, escorting Her Royal Highness, Princess Zelda,” Tartan called back, pulling up alongside the other carriage.
The royal guard was quick to approach, and Zelda greeted them. “Would you mind assisting me with my belongings?” she asked. “I’ve these here,” she held out her chocolates and candies, “and had brought a number of books and other bags with me back earlier. I’d like them all delivered to my room.”
“Yes, Princess.” One of the guards took her bags, while the other raised a hand to help her down. It was harder than getting up had been, and all the food in her stomach seemed to kick back when her belly flattened against the side.
The guard that had helped her down spoke with her while the other greeted Tartan and instructed him on how to best turnabout. “Princess, you may want to stop by the guard barracks before you head on upstairs. Captain Vesmas is currently being questioned about your…” he paused, uncomfortably, “Erm… disappearance.”
Princess Zelda sighed. “Yes, alright. I’ve news to report to the royal guard as well, you’d best come along with me then.”
“Right, Princess,” the guard said, hurrying up the stairs ahead of her and opening the castle door.
