Chapter Text
Sister Zelda secured her veil over her wimple and smoothed the wrinkles out of her tunic before picking up her basket of laundry. It was a beautiful summer day outside, so she wanted to wash the abbey’s linens in the river, however she could not go out without making sure all parts of her body, besides her face of course, were covered. It was sometimes hot and stuffy under all those layers, but that was the sacrifice a nun had to make.
“I’m heading out to the river to do the washing-up,” she said to her fellow sisters, keeping her voice soft to maintain the reverent atmosphere of the convent.
“Be sure to be back in time for lunch,” Sister Fanadi said. “Mother Midna will be returning from her trip to Castle Town.”
“I’ll be quick.”
Zelda grabbed a wash board and settled the basket on her hip. She left through the kitchen’s back door, shielding her eyes from the sunlight, and breathed in the fresh air, a smile settling on her face as she beheld the Goddesses’ creations.
The abbey was on a small hill that overlooked the little village of Ordon, houses interspersed within the green trees and colorful flowers. Just behind the abbey was Faron Woods, and that was where Zelda headed to do laundry, dappled light painting her black habit in gold.
She knew it was dangerous to go to the river. The wolf-men were becoming more and more of a threat to the quiet town of Ordon. But, then again, they were the original settlers of Ordon in the first place. At one point, the Hylians had moved in and cast them out, the river marking the territorial line. Zelda had heard stories of people being mauled to death after getting too close. But she liked the river and figured that if Hylia decided it was her time to go, then it was her time to go. She sent up a short prayer that any potential maulings would happen quickly and painlessly.
Upon reaching the river, Zelda set down her basket and knelt by the water, pulling a bar of laundry soap out of her pocket. She hummed a hymn as she worked, looking around at the scenery. The river was always so beautiful, the slow rush of the water splashing against rocks and creating sprays of diamonds in the sun. A little ways off, the trees grew over the water, mirroring the willows in their own shade. It was simply so lovely that Zelda did not want to leave after finishing the laundry.
She still had plenty of time before lunch, so she decided to take a bath in the gorgeous river. If anyone were to catch her undressing, she would be absolutely mortified, but no one ever came up by the abbey, and Zelda was the only of the sisters who ever used the river for washing up anyway.
Her long, brown hair tumbled over her form as she stepped into the river. She knew that vanity was a sin, but she treasured her hair. It was the only part of her that was truly beautiful, so hopefully Hylia could forgive her this one thing. She was content to let the rest of herself be ugly.
As she bathed, Zelda noticed a pretty red bird hopping across the rocks in the water.
“Where are you headed, little one?” she said, standing up. She looked up to see a large boulder sitting halfway in the water in the direction the bird was heading. “Shall I come with?” She followed the bird, careful not to slip in the knee-deep water. But when the bird arrived at the boulder, it made a right and began going around it instead of on top of it. “Oh!” Zelda came to a stop, twisting to hurry after the bird. “You shan’t escape me!” she giggled.
But as she rounded the boulder, she slipped and fell. This wouldn’t usually be a problem, she always carried a little first aid kit in her habit just in case, but this time, she didn’t fall to the rocky ground.
She fell directly into a man’s arms.
He had caught her by the biceps, and Zelda let out a little “eep!” upon seeing his face. Farore had done well with him. His smooth face had been chiseled by angels and his blue eyes resembled the heavens above. His blond hair was soaking wet, sticking up at odd angles, and Zelda realized that she was not the only one using the river as a bathtub that day.
Her eyes darted down at him, growing wide as her face steamed red. So that’s what a man looked like. She was beginning to second-guess her decision of becoming a nun.
The man glanced down at her as well, looking equally red. He then released her as quickly as he had grabbed her, making a hand motion at his chest before turning tail and running across the river, slipping on rocks all the while. Zelda watched him disappear into the trees.
She then burst into laughter.
“Oh, Farore, you and your games,” she sang as she walked back to shore. She dried off with the towel she had brought and dressed again, gathering up her things. Her hair was still wet, so she decided to forgo her headwear. After getting caught bathing, someone seeing her hair didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Sister Fanadi would shake her head at the girl, but she would likely be busy with Mother Midna.
Midna was the ordained Mother Superior. She had been sent from Castle Town to the tiny town of Ordon as punishment, the High Priest ordering her to care for the little convent in hopes of distracting the woman from the one weakness that Hylia had given her, namely men. Had Midna been in Zelda’s place at the river, things would’ve ended very differently.
Once Zelda had hung the laundry on a line and sat by the kitchen fire until her hair was dry enough to put up, lunch was ready.
Mother Midna was already there, sitting at the head of the table, the sisters all around her. Everyone looked up and gave Zelda a nod when she sat down, but otherwise remained silent. Meals were a time of reverence and to thank the Goddesses for the bounty of their table, so they weren’t allowed to speak. But there were other ways of communicating.
Sister Fanadi placed her knife on her napkin pointed directly at the Mother Superior, telling her that she was disappointed with the woman’s actions and would have a few stern words for her. Zelda could only wonder what Midna had done to garner her ire within the past few minutes, but Midna was unconcerned, passing Fanadi a pear as if to say “shove it; I do what I want.”
Zelda smirked lightly, placing her spoon next her cup of water, pointed at Midna. It meant that she wanted to talk, but it was not a serious topic. She looked up until Midna noticed, seeing her blink once in agreement before removing the spoon. The Mother Superior ate with poorly veiled excitement for the rest of their meal.
After lunch, she volunteered to help Zelda clean the chapel. Chores times were not as sacred as meal times, so they were allowed to speak, nor did they waste any time getting to the point.
“You’ll never guess what happened to me earlier today,” Zelda said with a grin, dusting the organ.
“Do tell!” Midna could not resist a bit of gossip, and often used it as blackmail. If any ladies from the village had anything to say about their husbands “confessing their sins” to Midna in the dark hours of night, she'd have a scandalous story of theirs loaded on the tip of her tongue. But Zelda was her friend and was thus spared from any malicious tendencies.
“I went to do laundry at the river, as I often do,” she replied, “And I though it seemed a lovely day for a bath, and well…” She described following the little red bird and tripping into the man.
“And you were naked?!” Midna asked, voice echoing around the chapel. Zelda giggled.
“He was, too,” she said with a glint in her eye that Midna could appreciate.
“Tell me everything! Was he big?”
“He was about as tall as me, I think. A bit muscular,” Zelda said, but Midna rolled her eyes.
“No, I mean, was his…ya know…big?” she said, gesturing downward. Zelda blushed.
“I didn’t really get a good look at it,” she said. “And nothing really happened.” She giggled again when Midna’s face fell. “He ran off after that.” The Mother shook her head.
“Missed opportunity.”
“Yes,” Zelda raised an eyebrow, “I should’ve shirked my holy duties and let him take me right there.”
“Exactly.”
“To Demise with virginity!”
“Amen!”
Zelda chuckled. They finished their chores before preparing for the evening service.
It was Saturday, which meant the clergy would be giving a service in town in preparation for the following Sabbath. Midna led the sisters down the hill and into the center of Ordon village where the church was. Many townspeople followed them into the chapel whether they were devout or not. Though Zelda and the other sisters hoped they attended due to a spiritual love of Hylia, she knew it was because they felt societal pressure to show up and act the part. And after Mr. Dragmire ran drunk and naked through the streets last week, shaming not only himself but all he associated with, it was a full house tonight.
Zelda sat on the first row with the other nuns while Midna and Sister Hena, the organist, made their way to the sanctuary at the front of the little room to prepare. People filed into the pews, a few even seating themselves behind the nuns.
“Good evening, Zelda.” Her father, Lord Nohansen, sat behind her, but she did not turn to look at him.
“Good evening, Father,” she said icily.
“Is that a new habit?” he asked conversationally. “It does well to hide your poor figure.” Zelda rolled her eyes. Her father never had anything good to say about her. “It is a good thing you became a nun,” he continued. “We could not subject an innocent young man to know a homely wife.”
“I became a nun to serve the Goddesses,” Zelda explained calmly. “No men were involved in my decision.” Now, that wasn’t entirely true; she only considered it when her father said that she had a face that only Hylia could love.
“Don’t be modest,” her father said politely. “I think it’s very generous of you to spare our young men. Isn’t that right, Ganondorf?”
Ugh, not him. Ganondorf was Mr. Dragmire’s son, and just as reproachable. Naturally, Lord Nohanson adored him.
“Well said as always, milord,” Ganondorf said. “Although, wasn’t it your idea to put Sister Zelda up for service? We don’t want a silly girl taking credit from you.” The men shared a laugh only to be shushed by Sister Fanadi.
“I’m trying to listen to the music,” she said crossly. But then she took Zelda’s hand and gave it a squeeze. The young woman blinked, realizing that her eyes had grown wet. She took a deep breath and the service began.
The following week went by as normal. Zelda attended services at the abbey, volunteered in town, and performed her daily chores. When Saturday rolled around, she gathered up everyone’s laundry and took them to the river to wash. This time, she would not take a bath in case that man came back. Not that she expected him to; it was the territorial line, after all.
She washed the linens without a care in the world until seeing a reflection ripple across the water. She glanced up to see the very man she had stumbled into the week before standing on the opposite shore. Her jaw fell, barely registering the wave of his arm. She numbly lifted her own arm to wave back.
The man set off, jumping from rock to rock, making his way across the river, toward her, with a smile. He was wearing clothes this time, thank Hylia, a simple green tunic and blue trousers, both looking a bit worse for wear. He came before her, smiling down at her in her kneeling position, and began moving his hands, making shapes with his fingers. He was speaking in sign language.
“I-I’m sorry,” Zelda shook her head, “But I don’t understand.” The man did not seem perturbed, pulling a notebook and charcoal stick out of his pocket and scribbling on a page inside. He sat down in the dirt next to her and handed over the notebook, letting her read what he wrote.
Sorry about last week. I didn’t know there was someone else at the river. My name is Link.
Link handed over the charcoal stick for her to respond.
I’m Sister Zelda. Please don’t feel bad, it was an honest accident. I live in the abbey nearby and often come down here to do laundry. I did not expect to see anyone either.
She handed the book back for him to read, even though he’d been looking over her shoulder, but he regarded it with a pout, scribbling again.
I didn’t realize you’re a nun before. This is going to make things difficult.
Difficult? Don’t worry, we are famously forgiving. Water under the bridge.
I’m not worried about that, though I’m glad you forgive me for seeing you on accident. It’s difficult because nuns don’t marry and I plan to make you my wife.
Zelda laughed out loud, shaking her head.
“Don’t be silly,” she said aloud, despite the fact that he could not hear her. She returned to her laundry, expecting him to shrug and be on his way, but he stayed.
Link picked up a sheet that Zelda had just fished soaping up and rinsed it off in the river, wringing it out and placing it to the side before picking up another sheet to rinse. They finished the laundry in record time.
“Thank you,” Zelda said once Link had place the last of the washed linens in her basket. She even gave the accompanying hand sign, poorly no doubt, but he beamed. She turned to walk back to the abbey, raising a hand in farewell. “Goodbye, Link. Stay safe.”
That was probably one of the strangest encounters Zelda had ever experienced. She did not typically fraternize with men in any way, but she had just done laundry with one who had also happened to see her in what she was born in. And he intended to make her his wife? Very strange indeed, for she was rather ugly. But that did not matter. All the mattered to Zelda was doing her duties to Hylia, and she vowed to forget Link, charming as he may be. But she did not expect a wrench to be thrown into her plan.
Link was back at the river the next week.