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lorelylantana · 3 years

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Savageries of the Heart Chapter 5: Homecoming

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Ao3

Chapter rating: T Overall Rating: E

“How did this happen?” she asked, setting the slate down to look at her husband. He looked sheepish.

“It didn’t happen overnight,” Link explained, “After the Sheikah were banished from the Kingdom of Hyrule they came to us for protection after their own military forces were lost, and the other races opted for their own independence. That much is true, and it was for centuries after. The Sheikah don’t really have a desire for leading outside of their own people, so as long as the Zonai reinforced their borders and funded their research they were content to share the fruits of their knowledge.

“We’ve always believed in extending a hand in aid where we could, so on the occasions that the other races reached out for help, we’ve been the first to respond. We built the dam in Zora’s domain and we killed the Lynels haunting the Rito snowfields. When the Gerudo canyon collapsed we’re the ones that cleared the rubble to let them travel safely once again. Bit by bit the other races began to see the benefits of being a unified nation again, so we expanded the railways, the Sheikah streamlined communications, new Wardens were named, and we came whole again.”

“Not completely,” Zelda interjected, oddly defensive. She felt Noodle’s nose bump into her chin, perhaps in response to her racing pulse.

“Not completely,” Link agreed, “But it was a king on Hylia’s throne that fractured the continent in the first place, and the Sheikah have long memories. Even with the countless records locked away, they knew it wasn’t the first time they had been made to vacate Hyrule, so they advised us to keep the royal family in the dark and wait.”

“For what?” Zelda asked. He looked in her eyes.

“For the right Queen.”

Fat chance of that one, considering her uncle sat on the throne and she was the Hollow Daughter of Hylia.

“Tell me more about the Wardens,” Zelda said, uncomfortable at the implied expectation.

Link scooted over, taking the slate in his hand he fiddled with the map settings until Zelda watched the borders she was familiar with reappear. Noodle uncoiled from her spot on Zelda’s wrist to sniff at the screen, her snout tapping on the small region north of Mount Lanayru, if that was indeed it’s name and not another lie told to her people. A box appeared with white text.

The Wellspring

Warden: Dorephan [Contact]

Rising Warden: Mipha [Contact]

“Each region is governed by a Warden,” Link explained, his breath tickling her ear and his arm slipping around her waist, “Dorephan is the current Warden of the Wellspring, but he gave his notice of retirement last year, so Mipha, his daughter is carrying out the majority of his duties until she slays a great beast and takes over his position completely.”

Zelda tapped the harbor their icon was inching towards, highlighting the region that Zelda originally thought to be the entire Zonai nation.

Dragonlands

Warden: Link

Rising Mother: Zelda Lana Hyrule [Contact]

Zelda noticed that the word ‘contact’ was written in green. Curious, she tapped it, expecting the screen to change. Instead there was a chiming from her headdress. Zelda tensed up. Link gave a little chuckle before pinching her translator between his fingers for a moment.

“What was that?” Zelda asked, but he only held up his finger again, shooting her a wink as he got up and left the the observation deck

“Can you hear me?”

Zelda flinched, startled. Her husband’s voice had replaced the mechanical words from her translator.

“Yes,” she responded, walking to the window to see her husband walking into view below. In her ear she could hear the sea breeze until his voice returned.

“A secondary function, though a recent one,” Link said, waving up at her.

Zelda looked at the slate again.

“Why can’t I call you?” she asked, noting the option to contact didn’t appear next to her husband’s name.

“That’s my personal slate, it would be like writing a letter to myself.”

He began walking up the stairs, and she could hear his footsteps, which was a bit disorienting without a stair in sight. They spent the rest of the trip eating their lunch while Link explained the basic functions of a Sheikah Slate. Zelda pressed an icon with a small blue circle, and a glowing blue orb appeared in her hands. Link mumbled something in Zonai that the Zelda’s translator interpreted as a string of curse words that had her ears burning. Link took the orb from her hands, chucked it through a window he’d opened before pressing the ‘cancel’ button right next to the one labeled ‘detonate’.

“That was an explosive,” he said by way of explanation. Zelda’s eyes widened.

“Does everyone else on the continent have access to explosives?” she asked, alarmed. Link shook his head with a laugh.

“Farore above, no. The slates given to Wardens and have greater capabilities than most citizens’. Standard issue slates are much more limited. Identification, communications, and finances only.”

“What does it mean by ‘Rising Mother?” Zelda asked, now holding the slate at arm’s length.

“Being my wife makes you the Mother of the Dragonlands, but since you haven’t officially accepted the title you’re listed as ‘Rising’.”

“How do I accept it?” she asked, Link smiled, bright and relieved.

“I’ll show you when we get home.”

She liked that sentence because of the assumption. There was a warm undertone to the flippant reminder that she had a home here. She was in a foreign country that wasn’t at all like she imagined, but she had a place set aside for her. It was enough to banish the dissatisfaction of her question going unanswered and allowed her to walk hand in hand with her husband with a spring in her step. As they descended onto the dock, she couldn’t help but notice that it was pretty deserted, though she did see a large building at the top of a large cliff. Link led them down into the sand. They came across a strange platform on the ground before Link placed his palm on a screen covered pedestal. After fiddling with the screen Link took out a vial of simmering red liquid she recognized as an elixir and pressed it into her hand. She drank it, savoring the kick that she recognized as a spicy elixir. Link watched as she swallowed it.

“How did I do?” he asked, brow raised. She took another sip.

“It’s a tad overdone,” she admitted, “but effective,”

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. She shook out her limbs, the heat spreading to her fingers and toes like a fever.

“It’s a little warm for a spicy elixir, isn’t it?” she asked, quizzical. He winked at her, resting a palm against the blank screen. After a blue line ran up and down the pedestal chimed and the world faded away.

The world returned in slices, descending bit by bit to create a small alcove tucked in the corner of a much larger room filled with plush chairs and couches facing a strange black rectangle set upon a table. Despite the questions burning through her mind, she found herself transfixed by the opposite wall. Rather than the intricate stonework that made up the majority of the room, the wall they walked along had an almost translucent, iridescent quality to it, orange light shining through that mimicked the sunset outside. She pressed a hand to it and dragged her palm along its smooth, chilled surface, her breath coming out in clouds in front of her. Link showed her a large glass box filled with vegetation and a lamp which, in a notable departure from the standard blue light fixtures around the room, shone with a warm yellow light.

“For Noodle,” Link said by way of explanation, opening the box.

Zelda beamed from ear to ear, reaching into the terrarium to let the serpent climb onto one of the winding branches. She could have sworn she saw some of the blue scales glow, but it was probably a trick of the light.

“Say Noodle again,” she said, tucking her hand into his elbow.

“Why?”

“Because it sounds cute in your accent,” she admitted, cheeks flushing slightly.

He gave her a quizzical look but nonetheless obliged her, “Noodle.”

She giggled, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder as they walked down the hall to a larger, yet somehow more intimate room.

Zelda stepped forward and turned to examine their bedroom. The walls were carved in hundreds of illustrations of plant and animal life alike, each shape crafted with a myriad of stones that must have been gathered from all corners of Hyrule. A fox made from the rich Eldin rock, wolves shaped from the cool blue of Upland Zora, and pigeons carved from Necluda stone. The lush scenes of the wild were dominated by sprawling depictions of dragons lording over it all. She recognized the serpent she glimpsed on their wedding day coiled protectively over their bed which, while lower to the floor than her own, was far wider than any bed she’d ever scene and stacked with silks and cushions.

After the stress of the day, Zelda was ready to lie down, but her husband had other ideas, taking her hand and pulling her to the corner on her left, where another dragon curled around a bath that looked far too big for just the two of them. Nevertheless, Zelda followed him gratefully, glad that at least one of her preconceived notions of the Zonai held true.

Owlan had told her the Zonai viewed baths an intimate affair, which she had understood. The difference lay in that married couples were supposed to bathe together, and often. This practice was apparently so common that newlyweds were not considered fully united until they blessed their marital home with a bath. Thus, when Link’s hands began to unravel the cloth around her chest, she made no comment, only moving to undo his belt.

When they were both stripped down they stepped over the lip of the massive tub. Link took the lead as the welcoming spouse, turning her around so he could run his hands down her back. Despite the spicy elixir having a good deal of time before it wore off, the water felt cool. Not enough to feel uncomfortable, but impossible to ignore. If her elixir couldn’t hold off the chill, she wondered how frigid it must be. Zelda was dissuaded from asking questions by Link’s touch, warm and steady as they started to rub soap into her back. She sighed and felt her head roll to one side. Zelda let her gaze rest on the luminescent stone of the second dragon. Unlike Farosh, the horn of this creature almost resembled a crown, spikes pointing away from the creature’s face.

“I saw Farosh on our wedding day,” Zelda said idly, her shoulders easing under his touch. He hummed and started to work on her arms.

“The gods approve of our marriage.”

This intimacy in the water was softer than what they shared in their honeymoon, but no less potent. Perhaps this gentle caress was one of the unsung sides of love, often overlooked for that wildfire lust that overtook them so many times. And yet, as Zelda grew warmer under his ministrations a deep sense of peace took root, easing away the emotional strain of the day’s revelations. For all the deceit revealed to her, his growing affection for her felt genuine.

Link pulled her to rest against his chest so he could reach around to her stomach. When she relaxed and let her arms rest back in the water it became clear that the heat wasn’t just from his embrace but from the bath, once so cold it broke through her elixir’s protection.

“What happened to the water?” she asked, dragging a hand through the bathwater. It was heated as a hot spring. “Zonai leaders have always drawn strength from the land, wielding magic both consciously and instinctively.” he explained, washing and rinsing her hair, “This flow is strongest in the springs and other sacred sights, giving us enough protection to render even the harshest weather mild.”

Link turned her around to look her in the eyes as he took her leg into his lap, “We swore to each other before our people,” he explained, massaging her calf as he spoke, “we’ve proven this union to one another in our bed. But only here, alone in holy water atop a sacred mountain, do we verify our marriage before the gods. You are Mother of the Dragonlands, and now all the spirits watching over us recognize you as such, and give their power freely.”

Zelda smiled, security pulsing steady in her chest. The feeling was compounded by small, swirling clusters of energy she could now feel brushing against her skin and shielding her from the unrelenting cold of her new home. After pressing a quick kiss to his lips she urged him to turn around. Relishing in the heated water, she took the cloth from the lip of the tub and lathered it in soap so she could start to scrub his back and arms. She traced some of the paint on his bicep before wiping it off.

“What do the markings mean?” she asked. She had watched him apply the paint several times since their wedding, though never as much as he did the night itself.

“It’s less about design and more about location,” he answered, “The paint makes us stronger. We use it to stimulate the muscles we use most in battle.”

She rubbed his other arm clean before moving on to his chest. He smiled lazily, resting his hands on her hips, his thumbs circling idly.

“How’s it made?”

“I’ll send you the recipe.”

Zelda raised a brow, “Just one?”

“The only one that works.”

Now that was an intriguing prospect. Alas, it would have to wait for another day, as Zelda started to yawn when washing his legs and feet and her eyes had started to close on their own accord when they dried off on the steps leading up to the tub. She heard Link give a low chuckle as he pulled the towel from her hands and began to rub the moisture out of her hair, massaging her scalp in the process. His touch put her at so much ease that she ended up dozing off with her face resting against his thigh. Zelda only stirred when he did, sliding off the lip of the tub to take her in his arms. She didn’t open her eyes when she was rocked in his arms as he crossed the room. She felt the cool, smooth sheet covering the bed before it dipped to accommodate her husband’s weight. Zelda reached for him blindly and was rewarded by his arms wrapping behind her back, pressing their bare chests together. She felt Link’s lips on her forehead.

“Goodnight,” he whispered into her hair. She nuzzled his shoulder and kissed what felt like his collarbone.

“Goodnight.”

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