Finger Paints

I was apprehensive. Fate was ready to be put in motion, readied by the decision of myself and my sisters, but something still made me uneasy. I fully supported Farore in her endeavor, it was a beautiful destiny she had created after all, but there was one detail that was currently eating at me. I was in desperate need of clearing my head to determine my concerns about the project I had agreed to minutes ago. There was a loose end hidden amongst the story that felt as if it was in great peril of unraveling if it wasn't addressed; I knew I had to locate it before my sisters could remove the final stopping block from the wheels of destiny.

It was a beautiful day. The sky was blue, the grass was soft, and the sun was warm. And I found myself wandering about the grounds after parting ways with my sisters, thinking. A small, white dog bounded up to me, yipping happily, and I couldn't help but smile and pat it on the head. It's tongue lolled contentedly as I scratched it's ears before straightening and brushing off the skirt of my gown. I continued on my walk, heading toward the small grove situated to the east of the Great Hall. It was where I frequently went to clear my mind of distraction and where I could easily relax. Farore might have been able to make the Library her home for the creation of this particular destiny, but I needed open air. The dog followed me, close on my heels with it's tail wagging merrily.

Mentally, I reviewed the story as I remembered reading it. The hero was a wonderful character, one of the best I've encountered, easily fitting into his role of conflict and courage; he was definitely Farore's champion. Yet, the other key players were left largely undefined. The King of Sands was known as only a title with neither the image of a man or monster upholding it. His evil deeds were deeply founded, yet there was no physical definition of him. Even the noble Princess...

The Princess!

I stopped where I stood and leaned heavily on the nearest tree, breathing hard. The Princess was mine! The image of a small charcoal sketch of a young woman floated to the forefront of my mind. Her hair was long and flowing as her eyes laughed with an easy manner. When I had created the drawing offhand, I had not named her. She was to be yet another face in the vast land of Hyrule, daughter of a humble farming family I had chosen, possessing grace, patience, and kindness I endowed her with. She was gifted in the art of common sense and was quick to smile. She was to marry well into a family of merchants, selling sewing material in Kakariko until her son was old enough to take over the family business. She was to die quietly in her sleep on a night when the sky was clear.

But no. That was not to be her story any longer. It never was.

I scampered back to my quarters, racing across the grass and nearly tripping over my long skirts more times than I'd care to remember. My slippers slid across the marble floors and I was dangerously close to careening into the wall as I took a corner too quickly. I sprinted up the stairs to my quarters and flew into my study.

Quickly, I dug through the miscellaneous papers I had scattered across my desk's top, then rifled through the drawers until I found what I was looking for. My princess. It was just a scrap of a paper, really. I had probably sketched it offhandedly while listening to the latest reports of happenings in the land I created with my sisters. It had smudged horribly with the time it had spent shuffled amongst my other creations, but I could still barely make out the original drawing.

Laying the paper carefully down on top of my newly-created mess, I struggled to pull my well-worn easel from where I had tucked it into the corner of the room. It's legs got tangled in the thick rug, making it most difficult to pull it where I needed it to go. After struggling with it for a bit longer, I was finally able to set it up in the middle of the room. I hurried to fetch the necessary paint and canvas.

I stared at the blank sheet that stood upright before me. Who was this princess? What was she like? What happens to her? Daintily, I dipped a brush in one of the small pots of paint around me and made the first stroke. She was kind. Another stroke. She was gracious. Another. She was bold.

I don't know how long I stayed in that room, working diligently on her portrait, but with every swatch of color I put down, more came clearer to me. I saw her diligence and loyalty to her people. I felt her stubbornness. I gave her grace and mercy.

Slowly, she began to take shape, with slender neck and high cheekbones. She would be a just leader and respected by all of Hyrule. Her mouth quirked into a knowing smile, and her eyes began to shine.

She was fair of skin, glowing on the canvas. Her almond shaped eyes were sharp and intelligent, hiding a smile in it's deep blue. She would be desired. Her lips were a rosy pink. She would marry for love.

I leaned back to take in the full effect my oils had created. She really was lovely. I vaguely wondered how Farore's Hero would get along with her. Marvelously, most likely. But that was neither here nor there.

I left the painting where it sat, allowing it to dry and to sort out the multitude of images that began to plague me. Everywhere I looked, I saw her doing good deeds, suffering for her people, and praying for the wisdom to continue onward.

But I was well pleased.

I called my sisters to me and showed them my champion. Farore clapped her hands with excitement. Din shook her head, cynical as she ever was.

But it did not matter.

For my Princess would lead our land into an age of prosperity, and the whole of Hyrule would someday come to her for her wisdom.

I hung the painting in the Great Hall, next to the pedestal that held Farore's manuscript, framed with simply carved wood. The pieces were coming together, and soon it would be time for our legend to begin.