Disclaimer: All characters and places, save the few I make up, belong to Nintendo and some very rich Japanese man. All that does not belong to Nintendo and said Japanese man, including the plot of this story, belong to my imagination. Be wary, for my imagination is wild and does not take kindly to thieves.

Exposition: Knaves of Spades is a dramatic romance (LZ) set within the Hyrule universe, but not within or after any particular game. Rather, it takes place between two unspecified adventures during a season in which Hyrule is suffering from an economic crisis caused by natural disaster. Link, ineffectual against Hyrule's current misfortune, and Zelda, plagued by her royal responsibilities, struggle to secure autonomous identities in spite of what is expected from them. Due to the emphasis on internal conflict and communication in Knave of Spades, characters’ first-person thoughts will be denoted by italics. Enjoy.

Knave of Spades: Prologue: Shuffling the Deck

He was called so many names: chosen one, champion, warrior, sacred beast, legendary hero, but none were his. They did not belong to him. Rather it was he who was possessed by them, for they were too great, too heavy. He could not even lift his eyes against their weight. They betrayed their origins and devoured him, enslaving him, conforming and mechanizing him into the man destiny designed him to be.

A man gives meaning to his own name. He is the very definition of that name, his actions determining every thought and feeling connoted with its mention. But what is it that defines the man behind it? Paupers are defined by their poverty. Virtuous men are defined by their good deeds. Powerful men are defined by their influence. They are still men, however, with the dignity to make choices that determine their reality. Soldiers are not men. They possess neither choice nor name. They have but one dimension, one sphere, and one purpose. They are not individuals. They are a numeric value, a series of statistics, an instrument of the king’s displeasure, and a tool of measurement with which he compares his own valor and accomplishment.

Beneath the glorious decorations and inflated renown, Link was but a soldier. Beyond this, he was of little significance. He rotted within a suit of iron, an insufferable cage, in a mire of longing for which there was no ventilating orifice, and when he was aged he would be disposed of like a spoiled stew. Or so he imagined.

For years he had done all that was demanded of him. He remained consistently subordinate, unquestioning, repressing his own humanity for his love of Hyrule. This is how a solider is conditioned to behave, and for his cooperation his exalted metallic shell was called a hero. Since his adventures had not called him from his homeland in the last several months he was also appointed to the position of captain of the Royal Guard and personal bodyguard to the Hylian king.

Every day was much like the day before, filled with dehumanizing monotony. Rise at dawn. Go for a morning ride. Train. Drill. Instruct. It was, for the time being, an endurable existence, that is, until the time of day when the sun fell from its climax in the refractory period of a dull and listless afternoon. These afternoons were spent in corners of the royal study, library, or throne room in the company of King Harkinian, his quarrelsome advisors, and the ornery magistrate, Lord Hestynne. An explosion of political discontent had recently erupted from among the Hylian citizens of Castle Town that was related to several months' worth of overgenerous rainfall, which had inadvertently resulted in a new record height for Lake Hylia as well as flooding, mudslides, road closures, leaky roofs and a general ruination of all trade routes in and around Hyrule. Consequently, the king had been especially consumed in his country’s troublesome economic affairs.

Link, powerless against the forces of natural disaster, did his best to stand guard attentively while desensitized old men discussed how to effectively rescue the economy. But inevitably his restless arms desired to swing and jab in mindless fits of shadow stabbing. As a result of these skirmishes between man and his shadow, numbers unsuspecting clay ornaments and candlesticks were subsequently disfigured.

It was around the time that several decapitated candlesticks had been found that the king realized perhaps this was not the choice occupation for the restive young man, and as such, felt it necessary to personally address the issue.

“Link, I must speak with you,” the king called, putting down his quill. Link had been balancing on the windowsill next to the king’s desk with his sword drawn, swatting at an imaginary opponent. He turned, looking as embarrassed as someone caught talking passionately to themselves.

“Your Majesty,” he answered, hopping from the ledge.

“Link, I am an old man.” He paused briefly, allowing for any interjection of flattery. Receiving only a blank stare, he continued, “I've grown old and feeble. I can feel my strength waning with every draft that blows through these halls. Soon this kingdom will cease to be under my command. I must either retire or expire—whichever comes first, but the point is that I cannot keep up with you young people. Nor do I expect you to have the patience to watch over a dying man when there are more pressing matters at your concern.”

Link was slightly confused by the king’s words, but listened obediently. He must have noticed Link’s perplexed look for the king clarified, “Link, you are Hyrule’s most skilled knight. I will not waste your talents keeping you locked up here defending a life that is no longer worth defending.”

Link’s mind interpreted this speech as a termination of his employment so he was quite surprised when the king concluded with, “Instead of collecting dust like the rest of the books in this library, you can keep track of that spirited daughter of mine.” By spirited he meant willful, obstinate, and in all other ways insubordinate of convention.

“It seems that no amount of guards can keep her from running off, so see to it that she at least stays out of trouble.”

Link, quite dumbfounded by this commanding request, accepted with a mixture of delight and disappointment.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to my beta reader, Babykoalaprincess. Future chapters will be longer than the prologue.