Who: Zelda & Trevelyan What: Discussing new piracy dreams over chess and tea When: Today Where: A zen little tea shop Rating/Warning: Pretty low Status: Complete!
It had been awhile since Max sat down for a chess game - and tea, for that matter. Or even a leisurely cup of coffee. There were the hot drinks he grabbed on the way to the office which acted as fuel for a long day, but nothing overly elaborate or that he could take the time to savor. Today was a good ‘boba’ occasion - who didn’t love tea with balls in it (no comments from the peanut gallery)? Boba, exotic samplings - because grass jelly? Crystal pearls? Corn milk tea? He’d try it all, he was up for experimentation.
Everything was brewed fresh, tea brewed on the spot, and it seemed you could customize the level of sugar to your liking - which was good, since he didn’t want to drink a whole canister’s worth of granules. He was still working on the lychee green milk tea (with honey balls, thanks) - and in one of the corners, there were books and board games, conveniently, so that seemed like a nice place to set up.
A chess game would do him good. There was something relaxing about the logic of it, and at least here playing with Zelda he didn’t have to worry about playing with Dorian - who cheated. Besides, it was pleasant to see her in a place that wasn’t the grocery store and not when the county was on the verge of some kind of demon attack.
Though speaking of...
“It’s been kind of quiet lately, hasn’t it?” he had to ask, moving his rook in what was the beginning of the next strategy. “Around here, I mean. But I guess I’m jaded, because in all actuality, it’s only been a little over a month since that dream swine flu.” What a horrible, bloody occasion - can they skip that one for the rest of eternity? Maker.
Tea and chess was very zen, and Zelda never said no to zen - peace came and went around their lives here, so she’d take advantage of what little they had of it. Her beverage was a little more robust, medium-bodied and originally dark but sweetened with a splash of milk and drops of honey. It was reminiscent to her very brief childhood in England, and while she remembered her upbringing within American culture more than anything (Impa taught her to remove the accent, for ‘blending in’ reasons) it never hurt to go back to those roots.
Trevelyan wasn’t exactly the prim and proper Wendy Darling (her tea party friend back in their more youthful days) but his presence was enjoyable, and it was nice to chit-chat somewhere that wasn’t a grocery store or the internet.
“Only a little over a month?” Her smile was gentle but wry, glancing up from the gameboard. “This place must be spoiling us, then, because that’s a decent record.” In case something earth-shattering decided to rear its head around she had some faith in her precognition abilities to give her a heads up - but so far it was all quiet on the Western Orange County front. “How’s Skyhold looking? I know you’ve got a wedding to prepare for this upcoming December.”
“It’s gorgeous, actually - stocked with alcohol, which is the important part,” Trevelyan laughed, swirling his straw in his drink to poke at the balls a little. Stuff like this took him back to the nearly-forgotten days of his youth - there was a tea room at Pike’s Place, close to the shop he manned with his Aunt Lucille, with all sorts of imported goodies. “And the solar power help you provided was perfect, so I want to thank you for that. We’re set there and with hot water - I actually offered the inaugural stay to a friend for her wedding night. We’ll see how Skyhold is as a honeymoon destination?”
He had a feeling it would be nice, or at least, he hoped so. The fortress itself was steeped in such rich history, and there were so many memories - certainly, some bittersweet ones, when it came to what he’d been through with Dorian (and now he would never have that again) and also when he thought of how he’d been used by Solas. Even saving his life and doing away with his rotting arm hadn’t been enough to stifle how furious the Inquisitor was with him. But there was beauty in all of that too - after all, Skyhold had been their home for so long. The bitterness wasn’t going to taint how much he truly loved that castle.
One simply couldn’t discount the importance of alcohol in this place - her liver had become a little more steely after her dreams started, but she still usually stuck with her choice of sweet plum wine. “Well, I’m happy I was able to help. I know how important it is to keep that structure as authentic as it can be without the intervention of modern inventions,” Zelda hummed, viewing the checkered board to analyze her next move. “It’s so quiet up there, too, you wouldn’t want to ruin the appeal of nature surrounding you.”
A shift of the bishop to the next square. Trevelyan’s move, next.
“I’m sure your companions from the dream enjoy having it around, too?” she continued, crossing her legs - her wardrobe today was on the more tomboyish side in a way (sans the flower-patterned sneakers), with jeans and a zipped sweatshirt. Most of the time she was forced to dress the part of business woman, but today she’d unwind like any other person in a casual setting. The threat of paparazzi had also long passed, so they could proceed throughout the day without interruptions. “It’s a gorgeous structure, but you can tell certain areas were claimed by certain people - their essence still lingers.”
The knight made its L-shape on the board, with Max taking the next step in his strategy. He planned to earn a checkmate in the next few moves, but he’d gauge how it went - hopefully Zelda’s powers of seeing the future wouldn’t kick in. “Most of them do,” he responded with dry humor. “Enjoy having it as a part of this life, I mean. They’ve all been, save for a couple.” He wasn’t sure what Cullen and Alistair were up to, but Max doubted it had much to do with a desire to visit Skyhold. Dorian refused for months, then randomly asked for a map - wanting to go by himself?
That just seemed incredibly unsafe, at least to Trevelyan. All he could think of was the mountain climber movie, with the guy who had to cut his own arm off to survive being pinned between rocks. Extreme, maybe, but come on.
“Their essence does linger though,” he lifted one shoulder, sighing. “It’s a little bittersweet sometimes, if that makes sense.”
“It does,” Zelda replied, lifting her plastic cup for a sip - it was a cold tea, but of course she’d stick to the less adventurous option that didn’t include balls. “It’s nostalgic in a way that isn’t exactly conventional. Missing something or how things were when you’ve never technically lived that way in this life.” Every corner was a memory, every scratch on the wall and chip in the furniture told a story. A physical reminder of things that once were. At least Max embraced it instead of pretending it wasn’t there.
Manicured nails thoughtfully tapped against her lips. Sneaky mage, she could see where his movements in the game where going without a vision of the future. Time to move a knight in place, perhaps? The piece was pinched between her fingers. “I’ve actually just begun my third set of dreams - I’m half-expecting a pirate ship soon,” the princess mused, eyes glittering with a little mischief. “I went from royalty to piracy. Does that give me enough credit to call myself a badass, or am I just still a hopeless geek?”
Probably still a hopeless geek, but hey.
There wasn’t any way Max could ignore that fortress, what it meant and what it had once been to him. Not when he was a lonely soul with no family who actually gave a shit, no home - no one who really cared about him, and then he had fallen from the sky and everything changed in an instant. Being loved, nothing could compare to that - and maybe that was what made Solas’ betrayal feel even worse, a deep wound that throbbed and ached. Because he’d been one of them.
Zelda’s talk of pirates had him shifting focus though, and he moved the rook as planned - aha, taking the white bishop down. A bit of deviating off course but it was still a prime piece to take. “Royalty to piracy seems like a big switch,” he chuckled. Sluuurrrp went tea from the cup - he might go for a refill soon, more balls, all the time. “I’d say both are badass in their own way? I know a couple pirates around here though, one from my own dreamworld - maybe they’d enjoy the camaraderie. You can combine sea scouring powers.”
How did that go? Arrrrrr? Or, well, nevermind. Trevelyan wasn’t built for talking like a pirate.
It was an awfully big switch, wasn’t it? There wasn’t even the part where she’d grown up as a princess; it was straight to the life on the seas, no sign of royalty, none of that uptight raising and learning decipher ancient Hylian, no songs of the sages to learn or politics to balance between the races that called Hyrule home. “I’ll have to expand my circle of friends as I have no friends who are pirates - my mother was one, and she’d ran her own crew and ship there. I took the reigns young after she passed. It seems like Hyrule’s been drowned out by water, and the monarchy’s been demolished. ”
All of it, lost. But she knew this was beginning of another tale, where there’d be a hero in green and they’d combine forces to stop the great evil after the Triforce - that was their cycle in every couple generations. Those were the constants, even if she wished her Twilight Princess would be one of them.
“It’s not the strangest role I’ve taken? I went undercover as some kind of…” Ah, what was the best way to call it? “Androgynous ninja before. Someone from the ancient Sheikah tribe. I’ve got the combative training from that on top of my princess prowess, and now I can start adding pirate skills to that.”
Princess Zelda, jack of all trades, mistress of disguise?
“Pirate skills should come in handy - all that swashbuckling? You should talk to Isabela though,” Max suggested, moving another pawn on the chessboard. “She’s part of the Thedosian crew in the OC. Obviously being a female pirate, she was pretty cutthroat - “ Sometimes literally, from what he understood, “...to assert herself as a Captain in a very male-dominated sort of profession.”
If you could counted piracy as a profession, but Trevelyan sort of did. You got ‘paid’ to kill people and plunder their treasure? They took their responsibilities seriously, and were a very duty-focused lot. Historical pirates would probably shit a brick at all the nonsense around ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day.’
Zelda wouldn’t exactly describe herself at cutthroat - she preferred to take a pacifistic and diplomatic approach to problems, but wasn’t naive enough to think ‘talking things out’ would always yield a satisfying solution. Part of her Hyrulean upbringing involved self-defense with weaponry and learning military tactics should war be brought on, but piracy was a different field. Outlaws of the sea and hopping from one island to the next for treasure, only bound to take care of her crew and not an entire kingdom. It was a freeing concept.
Probably fleeting, but nonetheless freeing.
Her cheeks puffed with hot air as the next strategy was contemplated, and her fingers hovered over different pieces before she picked up a pawn bishop - take that, Sir Inquisitor.
“My crew’s all testosterone, but thankfully I didn’t have to prove my worth as a female to them,” she explain. “Midna’s working as an assistant for someone who’s with a pirate, too - at least that’s two to start with. I just wish I’d see more of her in the dreams. I think I’ll always be in a perpetual cycle of teaming up with a hero in green and a monster-man who thinks turning into a pig will make us take him more seriously.”
There was Ganondorf and then there was Ganon. His tusked beast form. In the last two sets it was a combination of the Master Sword and Light Arrows that defeated him, so she assumed it’d be the same outcome once he showed himself.
Sir Inquisitor was busy pondering his next move - maybe he hadn’t asked to be put into the leadership role he was thrust into, but Trevelyan had discovered he possessed the skills to lead them to victory regardless.. He was sharp and strategical, and arranging pieces on a chessboard with the ultimate goal to win really wasn’t that different than doing it in real life, when it came to politics, anyway.
“I wouldn’t rule anything out - not around here,” he said encouragingly, glancing up to swipe a sip of tea - another ball through the thick straw, and down the hatch that tapioca goodness would go. “The dreams don’t seem to come with any rhyme or reason and who knows, maybe your next set will involve her and she’ll dream it too. Often when we think we’re finished, they pop up again. At least from what I’ve heard from others who also have multiple sets.” Max didn’t, unfortunately. Rather, he wanted a continuation of the one that had ended. All in due time, perhaps.
Ah, there we go - move executed, and his grin turned wry. “Checkmate.” It was the black queen who had his back here.
Aw, fiddlesticks. Zelda’s nose scrunched in protest to his victory, but nah, she wasn’t a sore loser in actuality - the grin was eventually mirrored in mostly good sportsmanship. Mostly being the keyword, of course, because she went to playfully knock over his queen with a flick of her fingers.
“It’s a suicide win,” she giggled, then leaned into her chair. “Anyway, I can’t say I particularly mind the sets? Everything we’re shown teaches a lesson, I think - they’ve got the potential to shape us the same way our experiences here do. I guess I can technically spoil myself with the whole video game thing, but it makes me feel like a cop-out if I go that route.”
Not to mention if it were that easy to look herself up on the world wide internet, you’d think she’d have come across the events of what happened in the first and second dreams to brace herself what was to come - the arrival of the Triforce of Wisdom, Ganon’s essence leaking over and making her his puppet. “I hope you don’t come to the existential crisis point of living here. It’s definitely a strange experience.”
Oh no, the queen met her demise! Black roses and mourning shrouds for everyone, for at least a month. “Her people will remember her fondly,” Max spoke with teasing solemness. “The...what crisis?” Alright, that was new.
He had heard of instances, here and there, when those who dreamed found out that their story was a part of the pop culture phenomenon - movies, television, books. And also, apparently, video games? It seemed like the oddest thing. Trevelyan couldn’t imagine it. Maybe it got the gears turning in his head a little, but he quickly squelched that thought. He wasn’t going to Google himself or anything - Andraste take the keyboard.
“I think you’re the first person I know who is from a video game. But, hmm - “ He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’d spoil myself either. Kind of defeats the whole purpose, I guess? Pokes a hole in it, and the air just deflates. No fun.” If you could consider remembering a version of yourself in another ‘verse and all the baggage that came with it fun.
Zelda would advise against googling the self. At least her full name wasn’t associated with the video game in any way, and she and Midna coped by drinking and playing the games they’ve dreamt out of morbid curiosity. It was a surreal experience. “That’s exactly it, I like your comparison,” the princess giggled, pushing a gold stand of hair behind glamoured ears. “But videogames to movies, and fairytales and Disney, and then you have actual works of literature. The head of my legal department is none other than Jonathan Harker - he became enamored with none other than Dracula himself, and they’re both living a cloudy happily ever after across the pond.”
At least visiting them wasn’t a problem thanks to Midna’s warping abilities, but she missed just having her best friend in physical proximity at all times - J’s book wormy presence was always soothing, and plume wine paired with sushi was always drank and eaten with that vampire in mind. “My girlfriend’s something of a gamer, though, and I’ve watched her play through another friend’s dreamscape. If you ever realize your life was only around for the entertainment of the public? Let me know. You can cry on my shoulder and question the meaning of your life.”
It was a natural feeling. There was a moment where Zelda hid beneath her desk with a bottle of wine about it with Wendy on Skype, but it came and went. Life moved on.
“A cloudy happily ever after - I guess the cloudy part’s good for Dracula especially,” Max snickered, and wow. Just goes to show that anything can happen here, he supposed. Including finding out that your other life was viewed as entertainment for the masses. But you’d think that he’d have noticed. Then again, he never really noticed anyone else as being a part of their not-so-private stories - only when they brought it up, which was weird.
Like so many other things.
He’d have to see, and now he was curious. At least he knew that he could commiserate with someone. “I’ll let you know,” he promised. “You’d be a seasoned pro at handling the crisis by now anyway - and even therapists go through existential crises sometimes.”
On that note, they were probably due for more talking and chess - or just talking, and idly moving pieces around on the board. That too. “You want another tea, by the way?” Trevelyan checked, ever the gentleman.
Hmmmmmm. “Another tea,” Zelda bobbed her head into a nod, shaking her plastic cup - it still had a little bit of melted ice in it, but it was overall barren. “And a re-match. Two out of three games?” Maybe the bit of piracy she had growing inside of her was giving her a bit of a competitive edge, but she wasn’t ready to crown him victor of the war yet.