"I'll come back," the boy had promised, blue eyes sparkling with eagerness, yet also with regret. Those eyes...I never noticed how little they'd changed within seven years. He had always been one beyond his years, a crippled boy robbed of his childhood. This was his home, as far as I was concerned, but he was one of those rare people who were never quite comfortable anywhere. One of those people who traveled, adventured, and searched until their bones grew too weak to search anymore. I may be overreacting, but, historically, those people never tend to "come back". It was all I could do to push the tears back down my aching throat.

Interrupting my musings, he leaped onto the back of his roan, white-maned filly. He adjusted his various packs and weapons. A slight giggle, perhaps more of hysteria than anything else, escaped my lips. Here was a boy (well, a boy to all appearances) cheerfully smiling and armed to the teeth. Bomb bags, arrows, deku nuts, hookshot, and even that monstrous hammer he found in Death Mountain. I have no idea how Epona put up with it, honestly.

With a smile somewhere between happy and sad, he leaned down and pecked me on the cheek. Grinning and waving, he kicked Epona with his booted heels and they both charged across Hyrule Field. The noontime sun, brightly lighting their departure, lit his tunic, the same color as the waving, emerald grass, as he rode away. Then, as I watched, I found myself in a strange emotional state, laughing and crying at the same time.

There have been few laughs since then. Ten years have passed since that last white hair of Epona's tail flicked over the hilltop. Ten long, painful years. At first, I was alarmed at how many tears my body could produce in a single day. But this decreased and dwindled to nothing after awhile. It's easier to live in apathy than to suffer in emotion, after all.

How and when did the ordeals begin? In some ways, I suppose they were inevitable. You see, Ganondorf was not only a power-hungry, cruel tyrant, he was also a sore loser. With his dying thought, he cursed the land of Hyrule. It was not until after I had reverted time that the change became apparent. Three years after the boy had departed, the crops began to wither, right in the prime growing time. It was not just that, either. The river water turned toxic, uninhabitable. Fish and riverlife died. The foul river water poisoned plants beside the banks as well, making vegetation lethal to consume. From here, a chain reaction swept through the ecosystem. Predators reliant on fish and crustaceans died out, which killed other beasts, and so on. Soon, our food resources were nearly exhausted. At first, we thought some horrible plague was sweeping the world, but this was not the case. Only Hyrule suffered.

We knew we were in a terrible predicament. We could not provide our own food anymore, save precious few baked goods. My father took emergency funds from the castle's treasury and purchased necessities from other lands, figuring that this strange phase would pass. Seasons came and went, and still we received no relief. Rations became half-rations, and father began to draw funds from the main part of the treasury. What of the Gorons, Zoras, and others, you ask? The poisoned water failed to infect Jabu-Jabu's sacred pond, so the Zoras were able to carefully live off the fish in that lake. The Gorons eat rocks, and they live on a gigantic mountain. They were fine. People of Kakariko Village, however, suffered our fate. My father sent food to them in exchange for their labor. It was the only way we could refill the rapidly decreasing treasury. As for the Kokiri, well, we do not know. They sealed up the village, and no one has heard word from them.

Anyway, four more years passed and we were in a desperate state. By now, the treasure room echoed with emptiness. Various shamans and the like had attempted to "dispel the curse," but none had any sort of luck at all. If we did not do something soon, we would die out. It was then that father brought an idea to my attention. At this point, I was roughly seventeen, plenty old for marrying. Princes of several neighboring countries were willing to take my hand and join their countries with ours. Hyrule had long been a prosperous jewel, shining tantalizingly out of reach. Most figured this plague would not last very long, and that they could soon take advantage of Hyrule's ample resources. It was so simple. Marry a stuffed shirt, swallow my happiness, throw away any chance of ending up with a blue-eyed hero, but save my people from the destitute state they lived in now. We would never be hungry again.

After a day of careful thinking, I agreed. At first, the princes were a bit daunted by the sheer hopelessness of our situation, but were able to pass it off by looking to the future. All were eager for a union with Hyrule. I felt no preference for any of the kingdoms, so, in the end, I chose the one who would most benefit the kingdom. Rothester's population consisted of a great deal of Hylians who had moved there in earlier times. Most of the people believed in the Goddesses and observed our same customs. I believed that this union would be easiest for the people, less of a shock, and that they would feel more comfortable with some of their own people. I married Hieronymous and became Rothester's queen. I believe that's when the apathy truly began.

Hieronymous was not terrible, at first. After our engagement, we worked out the terms of our union. The people of Hyrule would receive food and shelter for as long as they needed, he gained the rights to Hyrule's assets, and I would become his smiling queen. Before we were even married, Hieronymous' people adored me, nearly throwing themselves at my feet. Hieronymous saw this and decided to take advantage of it. You see, his popularity with the people had decayed over the years, and he hoped that by marrying someone they loved so, his own image would rise. Our wedding was an extravagant affair, of course, one which I absolutely despised. When it came to the wedding night, however, I refused him. After all, our contract said nothing about an heir. Hieronymous was furious at first, but soon just became coldly abusive. Perhaps he thought threatening me behind closed doors was frightening. He was no match for Ganondorf, and if my people were not in such a critical state, I would have shot Hieronymous with a light arrow as well. Using the skills I had learned from Impa and the skills I had picked up in the "Sheik years" I kept him well at bay.

And so three more years passed, which leads us to the present day. I was the smiling, happy queen by day and the cold, unresponsive wife by night. Maybe I was just being selfish, or maybe I just didn't like Hieronymous, I don't know. I thought it funny that the people sympathized with me because I couldn't seem to get pregnant. Ha! Hieronymous, the proud imbecile, was too haughty to contradict them. "After all, how can a king run a country if he can't even control his wife? It would never sit well with the people." I heard him muttering this one night. Bastard. Oh well. It served my purposes. I was, almost, reasonably happy. Hieronymous was off my back, my people were well-fed and no longer poor, and the people of Rothester adored me as queen. I am allowed to walk the streets and talk to both Hyrule and Rothester's people, practice my archery, ride horses, and read undisturbed in my room.

And then you came along, and now my world has been turned upside down. Somehow, merely on sight, you've managed to break my apathy into pieces. So, speak up. You'd better have a damned good reason for showing up ten years later like nothing's happened." I crossed my arms, looking down at the ground in an attempt to blink the wetness from my eyes.

I hear the soft rustle of cloth moving and then a sorrowed sigh. "Will any explanation of mine really satisfy you?" he finally whispers, and I can feel his piercing eyes impaling me.

"You always were a perceptive bastard," I mutter, keeping my voice low. I don't want him to hear the sobs teetering on the edge of my voice.

He chuckles a little, and I can't help but feel the tears dissipate a little bit. "You didn't always curse this much, though," he says, and I can feel him smiling. Then, his tone darkens, and he continues, "I suppose things really have changed, haven't they?"

I snort, very unladylike, I know, but necessary. "I take it back. If you were perceptive at all, you might have picked up a tiny hint from my story that things have definitely changed!" My voice rises, a bit hysterically, by the end of that sentence.

"Zelda...," he starts, getting up and walking towards a nearby tree, running his fingers down the rough bark. "Zelda," he begins again, "you know I would have come back if I could have, but I couldn't." He looks at his left hand, where the sacred triangles glow sometimes, and continues, somewhat bitterly, "Other people had need of me. The goddesses had need of me."

I looked at my left hand as well, but not at the sacred triangles. My eyes were drawn to the ridiculous, sparkling diamond sitting garishly on my ring finger, "Well, I had need of you too," I mutter, hating the way the setting sun makes the diamond sparkle cheerfully.

His eyes are drawn to where mine are focused, and his face saddens. After a moment of pause, he opens his mouth to say something, but whatever he was going to say is lost as we both hear footsteps rounding the corner. He slips into the bushes noiselessly. Technically, we were doing nothing wrong, but it's better not to raise a fuss.

Roland, one of the palace guards, clomps into the little garden. He claps a fist to his heart and bows deeply, saying, "Your Majesty, His Majesty requests you begin preparing for the ball now. His Majesty also wishes to discuss some matters beforehand. If Her Majesty would please follow me?" His eyes are still on the ground, his body still frozen in a bow.

I sigh. Normally, I would tell the guard to go ahead, that I'll be there in a moment. Naturally, Hieronymous takes it out on the poor fellow. Although I desperately want to talk with the blue-eyed hero, no matter how much he has upset me, I actually like Roland. He is a decent fellow, and I won't subject him to Hieronymous' temper. I sigh, and reluctantly follow Roland around the corner, who has risen from his bow at this point.

I hear a barely perceptible rustle back in the garden, no more than leaves caught in a breeze, and already regret my decision. Niceness be damned, I should have stayed. I sigh internally, careful not to reveal my distress to Roland.

I am beginning to regret so many things.