[First-person – Gerudo Town]
The air in Riju's chambers is heavy with the scent of incense and iron. Soft fabrics hang over the windows, turning the moonlight into bruised reds and purples. Somewhere beyond the palace, the desert breathes its dry, eternal breath.
Riju pours wine with fingers that barely tremble. But I see the storm beneath her surface. She hands me the cup and sits close—closer than before. Her leg brushes mine, deliberate.
"I still remember the day you first saved me," she says. "You didn't hesitate. You didn't ask for permission. You just… stood between me and death."
I take a sip. "You didn't need saving. You just needed backup."
Her smile is slow. "No. I needed you."
I should say something clever. Maybe lighten the mood. But I don't.
Because when I look at her—into her hungry, golden eyes—I know she wouldn't appreciate lies.
---
We eat. We drink. We talk about old battles and scar stories. At least, for a while.
But soon, the conversation dies.
Riju leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder.
"I hated waiting," she whispers. "Every day I woke, wondering if today you'd return or if the world would take you from me again."
I stroke her hair. "I never stopped thinking about you."
Her breath hitches. "Then prove it."
She lifts her face to mine, eyes wide with expectation—and something darker. Her hands come up to my chest, nails dragging lightly over my shirt. Her voice is trembling.
"Tell me you're mine. Here. Now."
My heart beats once.
Twice.
There's heat. Desire. But also danger. I can feel her Tear—flaring like it's alive, though she doesn't know she carries one.
Something inside her has started to awaken.
Still, I nod. "I'm not going anywhere."
She kisses me then—desperate, claiming, needing.
And for a while, I let her.
---
We fall asleep tangled together on silk sheets. The moon rises, fat and red. Outside, the desert howls.
But I don't dream of Riju.
I dream of Zelda.
---
[Third-person – Hyrule Castle Ruins]
Far away, Zelda jolts awake.
The tower chamber is dark, save for the flickering blue of the Sheikah flame she keeps lit beside her bed. The ancient texts are scattered around her—half-translated, mostly ignored now.
She sits up.
Sweat clings to her neck. Her heartbeat echoes in her ears.
> She saw him again.
This time, not in some ancient battlefield or prophetic haze.
She saw him…
with her.
The Gerudo.
Holding her. Kissing her. Whispering words meant for Zelda.
A noise escapes her throat—low, broken, not quite a sob.
She clutches the edge of her blanket, knuckles white.
"He's mine," she whispers.
Her voice echoes through the chamber like a curse.
"He was always mine."
---
She stumbles to the mirror.
Her reflection stares back—pale, shaking, eyes wild.
Something in her cracks.
Not in anger.
Not in grief.
In certainty.
There's no logic to it, no historical justification or divine commandment.
Just the raw, primal knowledge that somewhere, someone she loves is giving pieces of his heart to others.
And those pieces do not belong to them.
---
A knock on the door.
Zelda doesn't answer.
Purah's voice: "Princess? You haven't slept in three days. You need rest."
Zelda closes her eyes.
Rest?
> How can I rest when I'm being erased again?
She bites her lip until she tastes copper.
And then, she smiles.
---
"I need a prototype skycraft prepped," she says through the door. "Something fast. Quiet."
A pause.
"…Zelda?"
"I'm going to Gerudo Town."
---
[Back to First-person – Gerudo Town, Morning]
I wake to sunlight bleeding through the curtains.
Riju's curled beside me, peaceful, her hand possessively over my chest like she's guarding a treasure. A strange warmth blooms in my chest. I touch her fingers lightly.
And that's when I feel it.
A shift in the air.
Like thunder on the horizon.
My Tear pulses once.
Something is coming.
Something powerful.
Something royal.
I glance toward the distant east—toward the rising sun.
And somehow, I know.
Zelda is on her way.