Note: This story is about teenage emotional issues. Expect silly teenage angst all over the place. Just fyi. It's also fairly romantic, a little fluffy, and as should be immediately obvious, at least partly about gender/identity issues. In addition, I've altered game dialogue considerably and the game events slightly in order to tell the story I wanted to tell. So if any of that isn't to your taste, you can't say you haven't been warned!


Prologue

The mirror had been a gift. Somebody, she couldn't even remember who, had thought that a princess should have a full-length mirror. So even though she was living in a hastily-repaired room in the town while work had only just begun on the new castle, she had a mirror in her room. There had been other gifts too, her people seemed to think she needed so very many things. Never mind that she had spent seven years in hiding. Seven years as a Sheikah, sleeping on a blanket on the ground as often as in a bed. Seven years training to fight, preparing for the day when she would aid the Hero of Time in his quest. Never mind that she hadn't had dresses or servants or any of the trappings of royalty since she was ten. She was a princess, so she must need, must want such things.

A princess.

She sighed. Standing in front of the mirror she removed the pink and gold dress. She set it gently on the bed. She removed the chemise she wore under it as well and set that next to the dress. She looked at the mirror again and frowned. Then she picked up the wrappings, taking them from the drawer where she'd set them aside when she first moved into this room. After all this time she could put them on with her eyes closed. Which she now did, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror.

With arms and chest securely wrapped she looked at herself once again.

The bindings held a minor enchantment. Those who looked at her would see not a princess, but a male Sheikah. They would see her eyes as Sheikah red. They would see her shoulders as a little broader, her hips as a little narrower, her body that of a muscled young man.

But the enchantment didn't touch the eyes of the wearer, so when Zelda opened them and looked in the mirror once more she saw the truth. She was muscled, yes. She had earned her strength the hard way, not won it by some spell. But her shoulders were slender, her hips wide, and the bindings couldn't completely hide her chest.

Her eyes were still blue.

She still looked like the princess, not the Sheikah.

With a cry she punched the wall next to the mirror. It was all she could do to not hit the mirror itself, and shatter the image of the princess within it into a thousand pieces.