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#but for now here’s noodle Zelda in all her glory
newtsnaturethings · 1 year
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Link loves his Noodle Wife and she loves him
This is part of an art exchange with @zeldaseyebrows cause we both had a lot of feelings about this 🐉
Close up of the Snoot Boop
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lorelylantana · 3 years
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Savageries of the Heart Chapter 6; Heritage
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Chapter rating: T Overall Rating: E
Noodle turned out to be quite the escape artist, if the flickering of a forked tongue against her chin was any indication. Zelda’s giggle swiftly turned into a yawn. Noodle wriggled into her hair until Zelda lifted her head so the serpent could take her usual space coiled around her neck.
“Good morning, Dove,” Link cooed softly, kissing her shoulder as she sat up. 
“Good morning,” she said with a stretch. She leaned on Link’s shoulder to look down at the slate in his hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just looking through some of the messages that piled up over our honeymoon,” he said, tapping out a reply to his latest missive. Zelda’s brow wrinkled.
“Don’t you do that in your office?”
“I could do it in our office,” he admitted, and Zelda felt him smile against her cheek, “but that would mean leaving you here to wake up alone, and that wouldn’t be very hospitable, would it?”
She grinned and shook her head.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, booping Noodle’s nose. Link clicked out of his messages and brought up a schedule. 
“I don’t have many appointments today, so I thought I’d give you a tour.”
Walking through her new home felt like walking through a dream. Her breath steamed in front of her, even though Zelda fel perfectly comfortable, if not warm. Her bare feet walked across frozen stone floors as Link led her through chambers carved into the mountain. It was a surreal feeling, walking next to walls of solid ice, light filtering through in tendrils onto the floor. On her other side was a line of doors. Curious, she opened one, and was surprised to find a bedroom.
“For guests?” she asked, though she couldn’t imagine that many would willingly stay in a frozen abode such as theirs. Link shook his head.
“Children,” he clarified, then caught himself, “Not that we need them! I mean-” he sighed, “I didn’t marry you to pump out heirs. That’s not how we do things.”
“It’s how my family does things,” Zelda said. She wouldn’t say that she was a natural born mother, but there was this vengeful feeling that had grown over the years that was determined to continue her line, even if it was just to prove she could. Zelda ran her eyes down her husband’s figure. At the very least she had a strong set of genes to work with.
“In any case, It’s the one thing I can do to honor my family, making sure the weakest link doesn’t break the chain.”
Link paused then, turning to look her in the eyes. There was a tragic look in his eyes that would make Zelda bristle were it not for the rage burning quietly behind the melancholy.
“Is that how you see yourself?”
Zelda looked down, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.
“It’s how my people see me.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
She looked up at him, a question on her lips, before he cleared his throat. “I think breakfast should be ready by now. Let’s go eat.”
An moment later, Zelda was seated at the table for breakfast, which gave Link an opportunity to help her settle into her new home and give her a brief explanation of what would be expected of her as a Warden’s wife. As a Mother of the Zonai she would be expected to handle domestic affairs. This included holding audiences and coordinating joint efforts between regions among other housekeeping tasks, handling the finances and presiding over festivals and rituals and whatnot. The Dragonlands were the political center of the Zonai, and marrying its Warden meant that she had an additional responsibility of leading an organization based on the Temple Mesa.
“Wait a moment,” Zelda held up a hand, “You mean to tell me the Hands of Hylia is a Zonai organization?”
The Hands of Hylia was a renowned charity that gathered resources from across Hyrule to redistribute them when needed. Their quick response to epidemics, famines, and other such disasters quickly earned them the reputation of the kingdom’s greatest first responders. Her uncle had poured a generous amount of money to the administration, if only to claim a portion of the glory and saving the castle embarrassment for it’s slow response time. 
“I don’t understand. What’s the point in helping a nation that looks down on you so?”
Link leaned back, considering before putting his thoughts to words.
“You know the Sheikah once served the Hyrulean royal family,”
“I did,” Zelda nodded, “Because of Hylia’s blood.”
“Yes, but that’s not all. The Sheikah value knowledge, and so they served Hylia’s daughters, paragons of wisdom before they were usurped by their fathers.”
“What does this have to do with the Zonai?”
“Because the Zonai follow the Hero. At least, we follow his example.”
“I’m sorry, what ‘Hero’?”
Link gave her a quizzical look, “The Hero, the one in all of the stories.”
Zelda shook her head, drawing a blank.
“You really don’t know? No one told you? What about the history books?”
“My uncle had all the history books burned shortly after he took the throne,” Zelda said, in a trance, “Anything that referenced Hyrule’s matrilineal line was disposed of.”
Link cursed before getting up and taking her hand, pulling Zelda as he walked to the same alcove they materialized in the night before. He pressed a button, and they were gone in a flash of light,
Zelda expected her feet to form on top of the sandy beach, not the stone worn smooth by eons pressing against her skin like a well trodden path. Her gasp echoed over towering walls etched with a procession of men and women making their way towards the biggest statue of Hylia she had ever seen.
Zelda felt all at once so small yet nostalgic in a way that drove her forward, paying no thought to her bare feet and the casual slip hanging from her shoulders. 
She had a place here, and she felt secure in this undeniable, instinctive sense of unity that swelled in her chest and seeped into her bones.
“What is this place?” she whispered.
“They call the Temple of Time the birthplace of Hyrule, but this,” Link gestured to the massive statue “Is where your bloodline began, when the Goddess Hylia came down to earth and brought her light to the land.”
Zelda walked with him as he led her over the uneven stone, wrapping her arms around his right. After years of precious little physical touch, going to be with her husband had been the release of a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and found herself gravitating towards Link, who seemed more than receptive to her advances, holding her hand tightly in his while they walked upon the stone. They walked in revered silence until they finally reached the statue. Link took her hand and pressed it against the smooth folds of the Goddess’ robe. 
A gasp fell from her lips, there was a hum that resonated in her chest, causing her heart to flutter. Link’s skin burned against hers, and she felt this surge of affection for him that felt much older than their marriage. 
“Hylia’s line has survived for thousands, if not millions of years, surviving famine, disease, and several wars. Do you really think it can be extinguished so easily?”
Zelda shook her head.
“No.”
“Then we agreed,” he said, hooking an arm around her and bringing his slate around, “Now let’s go home.
Zelda had been sitting at her new desk when her translator began to chime. She glanced at her slate to see who it was.
Owlan (Resting Father of the Dragonlands)
“Owlan?” she said when the call connected. Was there anyone in Hyrule that wasn’t a Zonai in disguise?
“Hello Mother Zelda. I thought I’d see how you were settling in, and I wanted to say that you can call me anytime if you need some pointers for your new position. I was in your shoes quite some time ago.”
“Thank you, that means a lot,” she said, before clearing her throat, “How are things in the castle?”
“As you likely expected, Prince Nohansen wasted no time in commanding your old room to be refurbished for his occupancy.”
“What was wrong with his old one?” she asked. Owlan chuckled.
“It wasn’t yours, of course,” was his snide reply, “You should know the Commissioner returned from his sabbatical, he kicked up quite a fuss when he heard of your nuptials.”
“Really?” there was no love lost between Zelda and the Commissioner. Her uncle’s right hand man was adamant that she spend her days in the castle’s shadow rather than lend her talents to worthier pursuits. “You’d think he’d be glad to get rid of me.”
Owlan hummed thoughtfully, “I’m concerned he may know more about the Zonai than he’s letting on.”
“I could say the same of you,” Zelda quipped, she got a chuckle for her efforts.
“Fair enough. How are you adjusting to your new position?”
“I’m still a bit overwhelmed, but well enough considering the Zonai’s true nature,” she admitted, dragging her finger over her desk’s surface. A list of ingredients she’d ordered scrolled at her touch. Zelda had made her order hours ago, but still fiddled with the giant screen. The novelty of it all hadn’t quite worn off yet. “I must admit, the bath was divine. I’ve never seen such a lovely room.”
“I wouldn’t know, so I’ll take your word for it.”
That gave Zelda pause.
“But weren’t you Father of the Dragonlands?”
“The requirement for being a Zonai Caretaker is a family tie with the region’s Warden, what kind doesn’t really matter. It could be a parent and child, cousins, even best friends, if they sign an oath to one another. I’ve never had much interest in romantic relationships myself, but I was more than willing to support my sister as she watched over the land. In fact, I think you’re actually the first Mother who married in for quite some time.”
“Is that right?” Zelda asked. It seemed the older her marriage grew, the stranger it became. And then, before her eyes, strings of light condensed in front of her. 
“What is it?” Owlan asked when he heard her gasp. Zelda shook her head.
“Just more Zonai wonders I have to get used to.”
Owlan blew out a laugh, “I can imagine. I’ll let you get back to the intricacies of Zonai culture. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’m at your service, Mother of the Dragonlands.”
The call disconnected. Zelda shook her head ruefully, looking at the piles of fruit and herbs within her reach. With a swipe of her hand, the recipe for the Zonai body paint was on screen. She reached for the nearest Armoranth. 
It was time she got to work.
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