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A Goddess Made Mortal and A Veil of Shadow

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Here's an extra heaping helping of the hottest gossip, brought to you by none other than me, Traysi! That's right, the Rumor Mill is back for a super special scoop, for adult eyes only. What could I be talking about, you wonder? Well, keep reading and see!

I'm sure you all have been wondering about the recent goings-on at the castle, or rather, lack of goings-on at the castle? Reports came in from all over the country to inform me that the Divine Beasts shot laser beams at the malice infested castle, explosions could be heard from miles away, and a giant beast made of smoke and infernal fire appeared in Hyrule Field, and I believed it all!

How close to the action were you, dear readers, when the hero and the princess blasted Ganon into a new dimension? I saw Vah Naboris light up the sky from Gerudo Town, but when the rumors started flying, I packed up and flew to central Hyrule on my own set of Wings-- Wings is what I call my team of horses, one for me and one for my writing supplies! The dust had settled by the time I arrived, and I could tell that our time of terror was over-- Ganon had been defeated and peace had returned to the land! But what of Princess Zelda and Link? Where had they gone? Eyewitnesses claimed they saw two disheveled figures leave Hyrule Field shortly after that golden ball of light obliterated the giant beast of nightmares. Other sources claim the heroes have been traveling around to every town and village in the country to spread the good news of their success, and I for one, think that's mighty nice of them. It cuts down on my printing costs for sure!

After three days of waiting at the Riverside Stable (can't recommend it as a place to stay the night-- Staff is friendly ★★★★☆ but the locale and smell is dismal ★☆☆☆☆) to make sure the clouds of malice didn't reappear in the sky around the castle, I went in there myself to scope the place out. I was jonesing for some primo goods, and I'm not talking about treasure, folks! With the help of my adventurous friend Parcy, we prowled the castle grounds and found research journals, recipe books, a few diaries filled with moderately interesting royal thoughts (nothing special ★★☆☆☆) and the hottest scoop I have ever laid eyes on, hiding near the dusty remains of the princess’ bed!

You guessed it, compadres, I found Princess Zelda's special, secret, hidden diary! And this baby is loaded with the juiciest, most jaw-dropping secrets imaginable!

Now I did feel a little bad right after taking the diary with me, but as the days passed, I realized something. The princess hasn't been seen in public for over a month (at the time of publication). I don't know what it's like to fight the incarnation of evil after holding it at bay for a century, but if I did, I don't know if I'd get through it alive. I'm not saying she perished shortly after her victory, but we can't rule out the possibility.

So, in honor of two months passing since the vanquishing of the Calamity, I have decided to print Princess Zelda's diary in full. 

The nature of this volume means that there will be much less added editorializing, and most of these entries will stand by themselves. Everything has been reproduced in full, including any scratched-out words and scribbles in the margins. I hope this satisfies those of you who wrote to me in hopes of learning more about the secret lives of the Champions of yesteryear.

 


 

The frustration I feel today is simply unbearable. My problem, of course, is my father. Why can't he see that my efforts at unlocking my powers have resulted in nothing but failure after failure? Why won't he let me rest? I feel the ancient technology calling to me, begging me to unlock their secrets instead, and it fills me with such longing. I am certain that this is the path forward, the contingency plan within our grasp, should I never unlock my sealing power. I will try tomorrow to ask him once again to let me spend more time with the excavation teams. I need all the help that the goddesses will provide.

 


 

If it is at all possible, I am even more despondent since the day before. My father, predictably, denied my request. He said that I am too distracted as it is, and if I do not continue with my prayers, I will not be allowed to accompany the research teams anymore. I was so distraught at lunch that Zalla sat on my side of the table for half an hour, playing my favorite songs of love and adventure. He lifted my mood until I had to leave, and as I sat in prayer before the great statue of Hylia, I thought about his voice, and how I had never paid much mind to it before today. It has a silvery quality to it, much like his hair that he keeps cut short in contrast to many of his Sheikah brethren.

 

Editor’s Note-- An Introduction to the Court Poet: Zalla was a 19 year old Sheikah musician and poet in the employ of the Crown at the time of the Calamity. He escaped from the castle and began a new life as a wandering minstrel, eventually taking on a Rito apprentice to pass on his knowledge of legends and heroes.

 


 

He has been chosen as my knight attendant. Of course. I believe I will write about it elsewhere, so as not to contaminate this diary with excessive bad feelings. I think it goes for all of my less than charitable thoughts, not just the ones in relation to my new shadow.

 

Editor’s Note: He refers to Link, the Champion chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness.


 

He kissed me. No, I kissed him. I am not sure who started it, but I do know who ended it. It was my dutiful, annoying, second shadow. He came into the garden just as Zalla was about to demonstrate some advanced tongue placement techniques. At least he had the grace to look embarrassed when he interrupted us. The poet and I have become quite close since this new complication has come into my life.

What's more, he has promised to teach me a new dance for the Midsummer's Ball. Midsummer's Day has been my favorite holiday since I was a little girl, and I was afraid I would have nothing to look forward to this year, as my royal duties take up more and more of my time. He is the silver lining to the dark cloud of my life.

 


 

Last night. Last night! Oh I can barely begin to describe it. The joyous mood of the populace has been infectious in commoner and noble alike these past few days, and it culminated in my father being perfectly civil to me for the space of several hours. This gave me the proper state of mind to fully enjoy and partake in the merriment on offer. I went out to Castle Town and saw a play and an amusing show with jugglers, and I tried to get my fortune read, but the line was too long and it was time to go back to the castle and get ready for the ball before it was my turn.

The ball was simply splendid. I don't know what it is about music that makes a crowded hall full of people I normally can't stand bearable, but I found myself able to ignore the pointed glances and backhanded compliments that follow me everywhere, and I danced with abandon. I know I am not the most graceful maiden on the dance floor, but I enjoyed myself, and that is a rare feat these days. I can even say that he is an accomplished dancer as well. His physicality extends into the realm of artistic bodily expression, which I suppose I had no reason to doubt.

Late in the evening, an incident occurred that I shall remember for the rest of my life. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, overcome with gaiety, challenged the entire Goron diplomatic corps to a drinking contest. Lord Walton lasted an impressive eight rounds (the rumors of his tippling problem might not be unfounded) before the lead diplomat unveiled his secret weapon— Fire Whiskey. It took only two shots of the potent brew before the lord deposited himself headfirst into the punchbowl! I took the resultant chaos as the perfect opportunity to give my shadow the slip. I had been trying all night to give myself a few moments of privacy, especially when Zalla was taking a break from playing. 

This time it worked perfectly. I was leaning against the railing on the far side of the long balcony outside of the ballroom. The shadows were thick where I stood, and I was certain no one could see me unless they had watched me walk there. After a few moments, a warm hand on my shoulder, and then one on my waist, startled me. The noise spilling out from the open doors must have muffled his approach. I tried to turn around, but Zalla told me to stay where I was. His hands began to explore my body while his lips trailed kisses up and down my neck and ears. It was thrilling! Being so close to the cream of Hylian society while allowing myself to be fondled like a streetwalker. Even thinking about it now leaves me a little breathless.

I smelled alcohol on his breath, but he said it was just a little liquid courage. He wouldn’t be able to play his instruments properly if he were imbibing heavily. I gathered my courage— it didn’t take much, he had pushed me so far out of my comfort zone I barely registered where my own boundaries were anymore— and I grabbed his hand. I guided it into the side slit on my dress, where the opening for my pocket was located. Being that this is the middle of the summertime, my ballgown did not have the usual number of petticoats and underskirts and all of that nonsense underneath it that I so detest. A single petticoat and a pair of my short split pants were all that I had on beneath my dress, and it was with utmost speed and skill that he found his way through the few skimpy layers of fabric to "alight upon my womanly secret", as he so poetically claimed.

He held me so securely while he showed me vibrato . He kissed me so deeply while he tried a glissando . He called me his favorite instrument, but that made me think of being the broken instrument of Hylia, and I almost told him to stop, but I didn't want him to stop, so I told him to be quiet instead. I sang for him twice.

He found us shortly after my second crescendo . He looked past my no doubt disheveled appearance to nod at the both of us, then he gestured at the closest doorway. The ball was over, and it was time to retire to my chambers. I slept more deeply last night than I have in the past fortnight. I wonder when I will have another opportunity to make music with him again.

 

Editor’s Note: Midsummer’s Eve, a quaint tradition that has unfortunately fallen to the wayside as the country has fallen apart! Along with other festivals and the Rito Post, the Calamity has destroyed many of our cultural points of interest. What must it have been like, celebrating in one’s finest clothes, with the noblest people, eating and drinking the best refreshments, and sneaking off with one’s secret boyfriend? Thank you, Princess Zelda, for this unlikely snapshot of days gone by!

Of course, in the past, the chastity of noble women was guarded as fiercely as a lynel cub, so that poet must have had to drink some extra-strength liquid courage! 

 


 

This diary is getting more personal and unexpectedly full of incriminating information. I can't let this out of my room, or out on my desk where anyone can see it. From now on, I will only write about my dalliances in here, and it will stay under my bed. I will have to remember to write in my other diary for all my usual musings.

 

Editor’s Note: Sorry, princess, but the public knows now! You should have hidden your diary better than that!

 


 

He's started calling me "sweet flower" in the rare times we are alone. He seems to have three new "endearments" to address me by each day, but that was the first, and the only one I've yet to explicitly strike down… I don't think I shall either. Some illogical part of me smiles every time I hear the longing in his voice when he calls me that.

 


 

I am afraid that someone will begin to suspect the true depth of Zalla's affection for me if they take the time to listen to the lyrics of his most recent song. His behavior likewise grows more bold, and I think that he and Link have come to an understanding that gives us more time alone together than we would otherwise have. I have seen the looks they give each other in the common rooms.

He has been such a lovely distraction from the tedium and disappointment of my day to day life, and I wish we could meet more often, but I know it is not possible.

I am going to request that he compose a new song, one about a young researcher who discovers her life's purpose out in the field. I think that would make a beautiful ballad.

 


 

He refused my request. He said that my father had been speaking to him recently about his compositions, and he was told to make sure that the content did not include anything that was likely to have an influencing nature on impressionable young minds, unless it was influencing that mind, namely me, to strive ever harder toward the path of the Goddess. That incensed me. Why does my father want to take away all the happiness I have in the world? Can't I have even a bit of music to lift my spirits? Then he added that he would be able to write it down as a poem, to give to me privately, but I'm not holding my breath. I've been disappointed too many times to believe in the empty promises of mere words.

He made it up to me somewhat, by reciting an absolutely hilarious and completely inappropriate bawdy poem about the Hero of Time and a Great Fairy. Half of the fun was watching Link try to stifle the expression on his face as he listened along.

 


 

I had a rather interesting day. It started as dull as any other, with my shadow collecting me as the sun rose to take me to my morning prayers. It's growing increasingly difficult to hide my crestfallen mindset with each passing day of silence, but I refuse to let anyone see my weakness. The last thing my kingdom needs is me giving it another reason for disappointment and despair.

All my Champions are here. Father has ordered four days of feasting to celebrate the successful completion of their trials (and he calls my "playing scholar" a waste of time), and the activation of all four Divine Beasts. Each night, meals from each of the Champions' cultures will be served, starting with the Rito, as Revali was allegedly the first to complete his trials. We all broke fast together in the main dining hall. We moved to the observatory immediately after to discuss battle plans, training routines, evacuation routes, and at my earliest convenience, travel to the location of each Divine Beast to run diagnostic tests with the Sheikah Slate. Tensions were starting to run high (especially between Urbosa and Revali) around noon, so I decided the best course of action would be to summon food and entertainment for everyone.

I asked for Zalla and his violin, as I've only heard him play it once before. Perhaps that was inconsiderate of me. He once explained that the violin was a more personal instrument, and that he preferred to play it only for people he knew well… I wasn't thinking properly at the time. I should apologize to him when next we steal some time together.

I was surprised to see, along with the violin, a rather young Gerudo woman enter the room at his side. They seemed to be laughing at a joke shared just outside the doors. But then she surveyed the room and its inhabitants, and the laughter died. She froze as if cursed by cryomancy, looking down at Zalla from the corner of her eye she whispered, "You didn't say. Anything. About. Playing for the Champions."

Zalla smiled innocently at her, stating it must have slipped his mind. Then he bowed to us and asked for requests. Mipha tried to say something, only to be cut off by Revali who, in turn, was drowned out by Daruk's booming voice asking for "The Trials of Fire and Sand", which turned out to be an epic about a warband comprised of Gerudo and Gorons who drove the wolfos monster into extinction. I can't help but wonder if his request has anything to do with his cynophobia.

Zalla's Gerudo associate has a high, powerful voice and lungs able to hold a note for a frighteningly long time. I felt the queerest stab of envy each time the song called for harmonization.

Several songs and full stomachs later, the Gerudo woman excused herself before bolting for the door. My poet shook his head but said nothing. His expression was similar to my father's when he is disappointed in me. The key difference was the clear affection on Zalla's face as he politely explained away the woman's departure with words I didn't hear.

I was jealous again, in a way that twisted my stomach into a grotesque knot, and I can't understand why, or what I even envied her for.

He asked each of the Champions if they would consent to an interview with him. Mipha declined in her typical subdued manner of speech. I think she mentioned dry scales and needing a swim?

Revali didn't give the poor Sheikah a chance to ask. He just stood and began to regale the "awestruck" musician with tales of battle, and target practice, and well preened feathers.

Daruk sidled awkwardly around the duo, claiming it was naptime.

Urbosa seemed interested in speaking with him, but said, quite clearly intending for the Rito to hear her, she didn't have the energy for pushing Revali's ego out of her way, equating the action to smacking a cucco. The two then squabbled their way out of the room, Urbosa laughing harder and harder the more agitated Revali grew.

Then Zalla locked the door. The look in his eyes as he strode up the stairs was nothing short of intentful… among other things. I thought he was mad, ogling me so openly with my knight-protector in the room, but when I looked to the corner my knight had segregated himself to… I found nothing but empty space. He was gone. Zalla said Link had made his exit shortly after Mipha did. That made sense. Those two are close friends. Still, it was odd he'd risk punishment just to reminisce. I'm perfectly safe within the castle walls, yet I must still have him shadow me everywhere.

He--Zalla gave me a neatly folded sheet of paper, telling me he'd written music for me despite himself. A force of habit, he mused. My poem. The one I asked for. And it serves as a song too! I was so overjoyed that I threw myself into his arms, which, I admit, was a little unbecoming of me. Embarrassing, even.

I felt something hard press into my belly when I embraced him. He apologized, explaining he had no shame. Not when it came to me.

We haven't been truly alone like that since the ball, and I'd never returned the favor, so I touched him, through his tunic and trousers. In retrospect, that was likely a very crass thing to do. But given the sound he made, I doubt it irked him. He did, however, remove my hand from his person with a rather mournful look, then quickly explained that while he appreciated my willingness to take advantage of the opportunity, it was a messy activity and the aftermath tended to stain, and he didn't have a handkerchief.

I let my confusion be known, asking him why he would do something for me without asking or expecting something in turn. His smile was wolfish as he explained that the memory was more than enough for when he returned to his chambers for the night. He then immediately backtracked by saying it was mostly sufficient, and that he'd gladly take me up on my offer at a later date. I couldn't help but giggle at his flustered state. He laughed too.

Then his hands were on my hips and his hot breath was at my ear. He told me he tasted me, that night at the ball. That after I'd left, he couldn't help but sample my "flower's nectar." He started taking liberties with his hands, teeth nibbling my earlobe.

"What I'd like nothing more to do is to taste it again. From the source this time. I never thought a woman could be so sweet."

I didn't understand. Not fully, and he seemed to guess that. "I want to kiss your lower lips, if you'll allow it."

I shuddered, wondering about the intricacies of his request. I quickly decided the key to understanding would be through firsthand experience, and I nodded as he started groping at my breasts.

He sat me down on one of the long plush benches on the upper floor of the observatory. Kneeling in front of me, he carefully lifted the hem of my dress, and slid his hand up my leg. He gave me a devious smirk before he disappeared beneath the expanse of fabric. My small clothes were hanging from my ankles in an instant, but it felt like an eternity before his tender lips completed their journey to the apex of my thighs. He was true to his word about kissing me there. He kissed and licked and sucked, and that did nothing but leave me wanting for more. I realized he was teasing me, when his tongue finally divided my “lower lips” and circled around that little button (for lack of a more accurate word) he’d unintentionally introduced me to that night at the ball. I squirmed around, trying to get his apparently adept tongue to focus on that spot with limited success. Once, twice, maybe? I felt it fully against me, and my hips jerked into his mouth of their own accord. But then it was gone, further down, lapping and probing my at entrance. Exciting in its own right, but nothing more than a cruel tease in the end. I begged him. “Please,” I said, unable to voice my needs beyond that single word. Zalla sighed, his breath making my whole body shiver. Then a hungry grunt came from under my clothes and his tongue was attacking that sensitive patch of flesh without mercy.

I was ashamed of myself for begging. Begging for anything is well beneath me. But to beg a man to pleasure me like that? No amount of scoffing from “well-bred” nobles, no lecture from my debate master on how a monarch should never yield to their “lessers”, not a single reminder of how “improper” and “wrong” what I was letting happen to me was… Nothing could ever make me regret the way I felt in the moment I pleaded to him, let alone make me feel guilt for what happened after.

Zalla’s fingers pushed into me when I grabbed his head through the fabric of my dress. Or maybe it was the other way around. My memory is a little hazy around there. I do remember nearly falling into a lying position as I rocked my hips against his face without a care. I remember having to cover my mouth as my legs twitched helplessly on his shoulders, unsure of when they ended up there. I remember feeling sweaty, and sticky, and gross-- and too tired and happy to care-- when I finally came down from the peak.

He snuggled up next to me on that couch. Holding me, humming softly, and running his hands through my hair until I felt less like a baffled chuchu, and more like a rational human being again. We stayed there like that for awhile, actually. I can still feel the vibrations against my cheek and ear as I leaned into his chest, his deep voice telling me about his day as if he hadn’t just ravaged me. It was a wonderful moment. I nearly cursed the Three when it finally had to end. But both of our days had to go on. My day had to go on. At least my evening prayers were bearable tonight. The expected and enduring silence emanating from Hylia’s statue didn’t feel quite so hollow. Not when I filled the space between us by humming a simple tune.

 

Editor’s Note: I told myself to lay off on the editorializing this time around (Good one, Traysi!) but I can’t help it! Take notes, everyone! This is how a true gentleman acts. Eagerness to please and a giving spirit are the best ways to guarantee a future invite between your lover’s legs, as we’ll see later on. Our dear princess was quite a lucky woman!


 

I apologized to him today about the violin. Zalla has the sweetest smile. Soft and joyful. He thanked me, but said he wasn't upset.

"It's good to get out of your comfort zone every now and again… and for you, I'd try anything once. Anything to see a little spark of joy in those emerald depths. I'd even go for a swim."

Swim? He blushed when I asked what he meant. Apparently, water is his "elemental weakness".

"Like electricity and Zoras. A bolt of lighting so much as looks at them, and they drop dead. I barely trust water caught in a glass."

He produced a dagger from somewhere (I was distracted by the movement of his lips in that moment) and slipped it hilt first into his goblet. He jumped from the table and turned to Link.

"He's got a knife! Quickly, Sir Knight, slay him before he slaughters us all!"

I swear I saw Link's eyebrow twitch. Perhaps that was just a trick of the light.