a light in the dark

[sageprincess]

Characters: Zelda and you!
Setting: In and around Room 1-09 and the new secret room, backdated
Format: Action to start, will switch if prose is preferred
Summary: Not letting the fact she's been in this place for two full years get her down, Zelda hangs up her regain and then plays music for the chipped units.
Warnings: None!

January 1st, Room 1-09
[Room 1-09 is typically one of the quieter dorms given the fact its sole occupant (for now) is on the calmer side (at least, externally). But about half-way through the first day of the new year there is quite a bit of noise coming from the Princess' room in the form of hammer-like banging. Investigating will reveal it's exactly what it sounds like: Zelda stands on her knees at the head of her bed, driving a nail into the wall with a hammer borrowed from the workshop. At the foot of her bed, leaning up against her trunk, is a large framed map, presumably the gift she received from Aria.

Later, once she's done preparing the wall, comes hanging the map up. Except... the thing is actually pretty heavy, and its size makes it unwieldy for Zelda alone. So, friendly faces passing through the first dormitory floor may be stopped momentarily by the Princess peeking her head out of her room and a question.]

Excuse me, would you mind assisting me for a moment? It will not take very long, I promise.

Any day after the explosion, the secret room on Floor 101
[The completion of the collar fluid research also means having a bit more downtime than the past six or so months has allowed. And after finding Aria's new home in the secret room, well...

Aria chose that name for a reason.

Those that enter the new area will likely hear Zelda, or rather, Zelda's harp, before they see her, seated as she is with a modest audience of confused but curious chipped retrieval and worker units around her. The spartan, metallic surroundings mean the melodies she plucks from her harp echo somewhat oddly, but she plays on regardless. It's a pleasant, if somewhat nostalgic use of her free time, she thinks.]

Comments

Secret room, sometime around the 12th maybe??

[silencetoreason]

[France finds himself in the new room after a fair bit of wandering. He's confused at first - the gut-churning displacement of his body has him wondering if he was out of it enough to step on one of the existing teleporters without realizing it, but when he looks around, he can see that's not the case.

His harsh metal surroundings would seem far more frightening, more intimidating, were it not for that music being played. He's got a rapier strapped to his side now, and his hand reflexively goes to the hilt. When his eyes land on Zelda, though, he's able to let out a breath of air.]

Princess. Princess Zelda.

[His voice lacks its usual dramatic inflection. It's no longer confident and loud, but quiet and tentative. He realizes that those are the first words he's said to someone living and breathing (Pierre notwithstanding) in weeks. For now, he doesn't bother to say anything else, just stares at her with a trace of a smile on his face.]

[sageprincess]

[The melody stops then, as she looks up at the sound of a faint yet familiar voice. One look is all she needs to know that the other has been through some form of hell recently, and the harp is quickly set aside so she might stand and move towards him. The look in her eyes is clearly concerned, but she doesn't reach out just yet, not wanting to be presumptuous.]

France, are you all right?

[Obviously not - she's been here long enough to know lack of liveliness is never a good thing, but she also knows sometimes people don't want to talk about their grief.]

[silencetoreason]

[France remains silent for a long moment. How does he respond to that? He's not all right, of course. He hasn't felt all right for a very long time. Indeed, the mere fact that he isn't just blurting out his troubles is cause for concern even to France himself. He doesn't want to burst into overdramatic tears, to find someone to cling to and whine to, to hold until his hands start to drift inappropriately low. He doesn't want to do any of the things that, before, he would have done without hesitation.

And Zelda's music sounded so calm, so serene. Surely it would be boorish of him to trample all over her solitude with his troubles. If he tries to tell her about what's ailing him, he fears he may lose himself to the crushing feeling in his chest, and that is not something he wants to do around the princess.]

...I'm fine. Your music was nice; you need not stop on my account, cheri.

[Perhaps if he's able to cling to something more or less cheerful, he'll be able to focus less on how lifeless he feels. He just needs to... to socialize more. That must be it. A week or two on a dead world leaves one's heart yearning, after all.]

[sageprincess]

Of course I do.

[Even if Zelda wasn't a bleeding heart, France is a good man, and important to Ruler. She's still clearly worried, but she doesn't pry when he insists he's fine. It is not her place to, if he doesn't want to talk.

But she can help with distraction.]

... Do you have any requests? I am a bit out of practice, but I believe my ear is still good enough for simple melodies.

[silencetoreason]

[France can sense that she's worried, and it's a small sort of comfort. Were he in a better mood, he's sure he'd be positively elated. As it stands, however, all of his emotions feel dull and weighed down. It's so tempting to let himself wallow in that numbness, but he forces himself not to turn and walk away.]

Something... soft. Cheerful. [He gives a little hum.] If that is not too much trouble, of course.

[sageprincess]

Hardly.

[Though there's still a furrow to her brow, she tries a reassuring smile for him, then turns back to her seat where her harp still lies.

Soft and cheerful, hm. Try as she might, one melody is particular keeps coming to the forefront of her mind, and all the memories associated with it. The first song she taught Link after his awakening, when he was still lost and confused in a world that had changed drastically without him. The memory compels her speak quietly before beginning, as if reciting lines of a poem in reverence.]

The flow of time is always cruel... Its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it. A thing that doesn't change with time is a memory of younger days...

[Then, she plays.]