Hello everybody! I wanted to share this quick piece with you since it is a LoZ fanfic, and this is a gaming community. That being said, if you have not beat "A Link Between Worlds," you should know it contains rather major spoilers regarding characters in the main story. 

This was just something I wrote because I loved Hilda's character development, especially during the last couple parts of the game, so I decided to try my hand at those little blurbs where she talks to Zelda's portrait. The ending is a little teaser at a theory of mine about Lorule's triforce, which I based off of previous Zelda games (especially Hylia in "Skyward Sword").

Please enjoy and let me know what you think! I appreciate every comment and read.

--------

Hilda’s fingers traced over the painting’s gilt borders, and she couldn’t help but admire the artistry that Yuga had employed. Princess Zelda’s hands were clasped as if in prayer, her long golden locks falling down in cascades of gold that complemented the background. Every detail was rich and crisp, even the wrinkles on the princess’s royal gown, as if she would shake herself like a dog and walk right out of the painting.

Which wouldn’t happen, obviously.

Hilda allowed herself the faintest smile, something that she hadn’t donned in years- since her parents died, actually. “Welcome to Lorule, Princess Zelda,” she murmured. “My name is Princess Hilda, and I have failed you in every way.” This was how she had ended the introduction with Link, but now she continued, still tracing the portrait as her other hand gripped the staff tighter, “You, however… I doubt you shall fail me. Lorule is in need of a hero, and your Link will do very nicely.”

---
Again she found herself in front of the painting.

Well, it wasn’t as if she had anything else to do- Link was out there getting the Triforce of Courage, Yuga had the one of Power, and all she had to do was wait for Zelda to be released so she could grab the Triforce of Wisdom as well.

She had sensed the release of the three sages, an electricity in the air suddenly crackling, then going still and stale. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, and when Hilda wanted to fake sweet words, this was where she came.

“Lorule used to be a land fair and sweet too,” she murmurred. She doubted Zelda could even hear her. How well could voices travel through to the two-dimensional world where her counterpart was trapped in oil paints and chalks? “Prosperous, like your Hyrule. My ancestors were idiots, though.” She laughed at this. “You know, they always said I was going to do great things, my parents. Greater than their futile attempts to put a band-aid over a gaping wound, in any case. Tales of your land, your glorious blessed land of Hylia-” Hilda’s voice took on a sour tone when she said the goddess’s name. “You thought of us as the Dark World. You’ve come upon us time and time again, and no doubt you will in the future as well. Well, we’re sick of it. We’re nobody’s Dark World, and I think it’s time you had a turn being the other side of the coin.”
---

By now she was talking to Zelda nightly, though it would be fairer to say “ranting at her.”

“I hate how the sun looks red here,” Hilda complained. “Like it is taking a last breath. I’ve never seen a sky as blue as Hyrule’s…”

Hilda sat across the painting and cocked her head to the side, as if looking at it from a different angle. “Oh, you’re getting dusty… I should fix that.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, carefully wiping at the painting. “I hope I don’t smudge anything… who knows what that will end up like?”

The task done, she left the handkerchief on the floor and sighed loudly. “There’s just one sage left. Your hero will be here on his way soon. Oh, you and your hero. I wish ours wasn’t such a coward; maybe then he’d be some use to the both of us.”

Silence, and Hilda closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of the air. It was stuffy, dry, crisp, and lifeless, the same wherever she’d go in Lorule, but she hoped that soon it would be warm and moist again, soft and caressing. “Even the air here is terrible,” Hilda whispered. “Oh, Zelda, what would you do in  my place?”
---

He was on his way. She’d dispelled the barrier to allow him to enter the castle earlier. Maybe she should have planted less monsters in the way; it’d speed things up. Ah, well. It gave her time to prepare.

Not that there was much preparation to do. She checked on Yuga’s bonds, which were just as strong as when she’d placed them (regardless of what she said to Link; Hilda was fairly certain she could have kept him at bay for years if need be, but she had no desire to). Then she’d made sure her circlet wasn’t crooked- it was her mother’s a little too big for her- before returning to what used to be the throne room, to await Hyrule’s hero.

“I’m certain,” Hilda said, “that were our positions reversed, Zelda, you would have done all you could to save your people. This isn’t for me, you know- if it was me that was dying, I would resign to it. But this is my land, and my people, and I will go to the ends of both worlds if it means that I can delay our destruction by even a second.”

She paused, as if waiting for an answer, but then concluded, “You hold Wisdom and I hold nothing! Yet the wise stands imprisoned and I stand over you, both in wait for the same hero. We are the same, Zelda. We are ones with duties.”
---

“Hylia, casting me here will only cause you harm. Hyrule is your land, and Lorule is mine, but the Triforces bind us together; our fates are forever intertwined.”

“Say what you will, Lylia, but I would never fall to the lows you have resigned yourself to.”

“When you love your people, you end up contemplating things you never would have before.”

“And when you love someone, you have to say, ‘Enough.’ This is enough, Lylia. I am separating Lorule and Hyrule for as long as it takes for you to understand. Fate is in your hands. It is what you make of it.”

“Then I shall master it and return to you one day with a land that shall surpass yours. I will no longer be your shadow!”

“You were never my shadow, Lylia. We are the same.”

Hey, its another one of your stories, its been a while. I have always been a fan of your stories pretty much since I joined. I really like the sentence at the end that starts off with "When you love your people" That's a really good piece that I agree with. That's what I like the most out of your stories, when you add all sorts of different meaningful stuff, and I think I have said that to you before, especially in poems I believe. Though I will have to admit that I kind of like some of your older pieces better, like the very first ones I read from you way back over a year ago.

zanderlex : Thank you for your comment! If I may ask, what quality about my older posts did you enjoy better? (I'm always trying to improve)

For me, its probably like the nostalgia in a way, you had a different way of writing than others, so when I first saw your stuff, I found it to be very unique and interesting, its not like they are getting worse, its more like I got used to them.