LoZ: The Phantom's Hunger Chapter One (Patreon)

Princess Zelda missed being a ghost.

Back when she had been a spirit, the Princess could move around and even float without needing to expend any of her willpower. She could flip through the air, dancing in circles with nary a drop of exertion.

Right now, Zelda had to struggle just to breathe. Movement was far, far out of the question, and any ideas of dancing in circles were smothered underneath her royal posterior. Yes, in some ways, the Princess really did miss the ease of being a spirit.

But, then again, Zelda had never had this much fun.

“You overate again,” her server said, that stupid blonde boy with his stupid blue eyes. Even as he said it, the boy was scooping another slice of the Thousand-Sheet Cake onto her plate.

Zelda tried to remember what he’d called it. A mille… something. She wasn’t good at foreign pronunciation, especially when her mouth was full of pastry puff cream. But a Thousand-Sheets, that one made sense, because the cake looked as if it were made of alternating sheets of heavenly icing, belly-packing chocolate, and a thick and creamy custard.

“Oohoho,” she puffed, putting a hand over her mouth as she cut another piece. Her potbelly was throbbing, uncomfortably tense beneath her tight golden belt, but that’s how she knew she was so close. Just a bit more, she could do it this time.

Her dessert fork was almost as overloaded as the Princess’ clothes, gaps of pearl-white skin porking out wherever her body could find the room. Her tunic had been inching up, now barely held down and only by her belt, while her wobbling gut tried her very best to break the cursed thing off of her body.

And he was watching her strain, that handsome smirk on his dumb, wonderful face. Zelda knew how much he was enjoying this, and beneath a heady sensation of overweight pain, Zelda was quite enjoying herself.

She scooped the slice of cake up to her mouth. The custard popped over her tongue, the chocolate immediately beginning to melt. She inhaled through the mess of sugar, felt the air flexing inside of her bloated belly. She held it for one second, then two, before letting out a soft, “Unnnghhh” and swallowing the sweet.

Zelda had purposefully skipped breakfast. She’d also taken care when she picked out this particular outfit, the green and gold skirt that came to just beneath her knees, matching the green tunic and her white undershirt. Her emerald shawl was pinned to her back, and the golden clasp of the Triforce lay undone over the round hill that was her right breast.

She could see the tiny green straps of her tunic, the only thing covering her smooth shoulders and flabby arms. Her breasts already overflowed her white undershirt, cleavage fighting with her tunic while the width of her chest flowed over the sides.

Her Hero looked almost as turned on as the Princess felt.

All day, all of this excruciatingly long day, she’d been looking forward to this. She’d spent hours sitting in a variety of chairs, trying to ignore the angry grumbles from her irate tummy, being lectured about how she’d be bound to the throne. The only chair she would ever grace again. It was maddening! She was going to be the Queen, she should be able to sit on the cursed floor if she-

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” Link grinned.

Zelda nearly threw the cake at him. “I’m not mad,” she replied before her fork savaged the slice for another plump bite.

Link’s grin widened.

Zelda’s fingers moved with hardly a thought, tossing the forkful straight into her Hero’s face.

Link caught it with his mouth, though his slowed reflexes had him still topple backwards in an attempt to dodge. He gasped as he fell from his seat, falling onto the carpet with a startled cry. Zelda’s laughter devolved into piggish snorts as the pain in her leaping belly compounded her joy into wincing pain and salacious groans.

She nearly folded over herself, still laughing as Link wiped at his chocolate-stained chin, a huge white grin filling his face.

“Oh, are we playing that game?” he asked devilishly as he rose to his feet.

Zelda blanched, a piglet with the sudden feeling she was about to become bacon, filled with the instinct to waddle away even though she knew she’d never make it to the door. She watched his bare hand reach for the cake. “Don’t you dare! I still have mee-” Zelda began to threaten before a fistful of cake was launched into her face.

She screamed, trying to shield herself with her white gloves even while the laughter trembled her portly body.

“You jerk!” she shouted through her cheerful laughter. “I have meetings after this!!”

Link didn’t care. He was smiling like a mischievous fairy, looking down at Zelda’s jiggling body.

She followed his gaze to see the chocolate crumbs tumbling down the crevasse of her breasts, followed by a messy drip of sloppy white cream. She tightened her lips before trying to reach forward to snatch another handful of her messy cake.

She was thwarted by her own body. Her belly was tugged up by her belt, her tunic finally popping free from its golden grasp. But when she leaned forward, it put more and more pressure over her center, causing Zelda fall back with a slight hiss of pain.

And, beyond all reason and much to the Princess’ annoyance, the belt still squeezed her.

“Come on!” she whined, her fingers trying to tug the belt but finding no room around her fat sides. “Pop off already!!” She wrapped her knuckles against the contraption, and while the golden buckle groaned, it still refused to give.

“You’ll have to finish,” Link said, sounding not at all pitying of his Princess’ plight.

Zelda grumbled then growled, snatching her plate closer and ignoring the fork. She sank her white gloves into the custard pastry, ripping it nearly in half and bringing it up to her demanding lips.

She had taken too much. She chomped frantically for a moment until there was just enough room to cram the rest in before, struggling to close her lips over her overfull mouth, the Princess chewed. The crumbs scattered around the slopes of her curves, falling to the carpet while the Princess chewed and she chewed, pushing past pain. A groan trembled through her, her hands finding her bouncing cheeks while she tightened her thighs around the delicious sensation.

She could have used her willpower to do it. Using her magical energies, the Princess could force the pain from her body, could push the tightness from her tummy, and could make herself to eat even more without worry.

But that would be cheating. If she couldn’t feel stuffed, then where was the fun?

Zelda scrunched her eyes and swallowed laboriously. She felt the overfat ball of dough push down her throat, through her chest, and she gasped as it met the mountain of pastries she’d already eaten. She twisted, trying to hold onto what little air she could fit in her sugar-packed body. She felt her tummy flexing against the belt, desperate for more room to put her weight.

And still it held.

She was panting now, Zelda’s lungs fighting for room with her sugar-packed belly. The bloated feeling was beginning to send aches not just from her tummy, but from her chest, her thighs, every sensor in her body.

A dribble of sweat had formed on her brow, but she didn’t care enough to wipe it away even as it tumbled down towards her eye.

A chocolate covered hand caught it. It wiped through her eyelash and Zelda grinned up at her sweet little devil.

They didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to. She was practically billowing steam, but she hadn’t busted her belt, and so all that they shared was a gentle peck on the lips before Link pushed Zelda’s plate closer to her belly.

The Princess laid a hand over herself, fingers trying and failing to massage her stuffed orb. Her husky breathing was growing more relaxed and she thought that she might be able to stomach another bite, when the pair was interrupted by the sound of thunder booming through her office.

Thunder which sounded like a very gentle knock on the door.

******************************************************************************

Engineer Henry scowled at the wooden double doors.

It wasn’t that they had done anything wrong, Henry usually scowled at pretty much everything, but this dark grimace on his darker face was exceptionally heavy.

Next to him stood a chicken in the suit of a man, but it fit him about as well as it might a minuscule monkey. Standing only five and a half feet tall, with decaying green hair that came to his shoulders, Councilor Livingston clucked his tongue before shuffling back and forth. For the third time he glanced over his shoulder to the figures that stood behind them.

Henry refused to look.

The sight must have further unsettled Livingston, who turned back to the door with another nervous cluck before bringing his long arm up to knock once more.

“Just a moment!” Henry could hear Princess Zelda call through the door.

Engineer Henry didn’t want to wait another minute. He felt that, if he did, he might punch one of the other four men out of pure agitated reflex. But Livingston was looking back again and this time Henry couldn’t help himself. He looked.

Two soldiers flanked the disheveled man, practically attached to either of his arms. He stood as if slumped, his blue eyes unnoticing of both Henry and Livingston as he stared somewhere hundreds of miles away. His hair was too dirty for dirty blonde, matted in several spots while his gaunt face was caked with dirt. But it was his clothing that was the most troubling.

Normally this… figure, whoever he was, wouldn’t be allowed within spitting distance of Hyrule Castle. But as filthy and torn as his uniform was, Henry knew the royal blue. He knew the four silver buttons, and every Engineer knew the gold and ruby pin that hung over his breast.

It was the pin of the Royal Engineer. That pin would allow the man access to anywhere he chose, marking the man as a direct servant of the crown. Which was exceptionally worrying, because there was only one Royal Engineer. And he was on the other side of this door.

Henry turned back to the front, removing the shambler from his sight. He stared, trying to be patient, but feeling the creeping agitation bubbling inside of him.

Castle Town’s station was meant to be quiet. It was in the center of New Hyrule, the very seat of power. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen here. Random men wearing… No, it had to be a fake. Sure, the man’s clothes were torn and his skin was dirty, but he looked otherwise fine. He didn’t speak, but more than likely he’d just… Well, Henry didn’t know what was likely.

Why was Henry even here? He didn’t know the guy, he’d just found him wandering up from the south-eastern rails. He’d tried speaking to him but the guy didn’t talk, so Henry had taken him to the guard.

He should have just let him keep moving along. The guards had instantly labeled Henry as some sort of interpreter, someone who they could talk to since blondie gave no response.

Now he was doing his duty for the government. Henry didn’t even like the government. He wasn’t a Hylian. None of his family was Hylian, they’d been natives to this land long before a group of pirates arrived on a boat had started referring to it as New Hyrule.

He’d signed on to be an engineer because the Spirit Tracks had needed people like him. The descendants of those who fought and imprisoned the Demon King Malladus along with the Spirits of Good.

And all he had to show for it was his small Hylian hat and his tight Hylian suit.

Times had changed. Now, the Spirit Tracks were hardly more than transport hubs, and frankly, that’s how Henry preferred it. Monsters had been pushed back from every available line, incidents and sightings had become few and far between. He hadn’t used his sledgehammer in years.

Life was boring in Castle Town, which meant that life was good.

But the twitchy chicken standing near his elbow was making Henry question if life in a cell might be even better.

“Not good, isn’t good,” Chancellor Livingston muttered to himself. He removed his large top hat to wipe a hand through his fairy-green hair. To Henry he then said, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a proper schedule?”

“Yes,” muttered Engineer Henry.

“I mean,” the Chancellor began as he reached into his jacket and withdrew a long note pad. Then clicking open his golden pocket watch he continued, “it’s already 1435. Lunch is supposed to be over by 1440, and I’ve still to prep her for the meeting at 1500 with Castle Town’s council about the tax increase! She hasn’t a clue what it’s about, and it’s her bleeding proposal!”

Despite himself, Henry looked to where Livingston was emphatically gesturing onto his notepad. Most of the document was covered in bloody red ink, crossing out lines and marking others with red Xs and scribbles which took Henry a moment to recognize as frowny faces.

There were only two golden stars next to happy faces, near two lines that were marked ‘Coronation Rehearsal #9’ and ‘Lunch.’

The short chicken continued to cluck about the importance of leadership and emphatically gestured as he went on about taxes, but Henry set to tune him out. He turned back to the double doors and stared into nothing.

He wished he could mark his lunch with a happy face.

Maybe he still could. If only he had his sledgehammer.

“-habitual dereliction! A ‘budding Princess’ they call her, well at least that term is certainly apt. But does nobody understand that, in less than two weeks, the budding is finished? Queen. Queen!”

“YES!” an irate voice shouted through the door, causing the Chancellor to nearly leap out of his feathers. “I SAID ONE MOMENT!!”

The fairy-man sagged, looking as if he’d nearly faint. “A teenager. In charge of the world’s most powerful country.”

Henry did hear this. He even opened his mouth to respond, ‘Nineteen years old is hardly a teenager.’ But his mouth fell shut. He had learned his lesson, keep to yourself.

Still, he glanced over his shoulder to look at the soldiers and the figure between them.

The figure didn’t move, but one of the soldiers suddenly snapped to attention. “S-sorry, sir. Did you say something to us?”

The other one blinked rapidly, as if he’d been woken from an attempt to sleep with his eyes open, tightening his grip on the shambler’s arm.

Engineer Henry shook his head and turned back around. He was better off keeping his fat mouth shut. Let the tiny man vent his tiny frustrations.

Budding Princess. Henry wasn’t sure if the Chancellor knew that the people were very much in on the joke. They weren’t referring to Princess Zelda’s coronation, nor her growing power.

They were making fun of her waistline.

Henry had been working for the Kingdom since Zelda’s mother had been Queen. He had no love for the royalty, but even his weathered heartstrings had been plucked by the death of her parents and the weight that put on the young girl’s shoulders. But here, ten years after the final defeat of Malladus… it was a little funny that all of that weight was ending up in her gut.

He couldn’t even guess how much weight she’d gained. She had gone from a slip of a girl, looking to the world a graceful ghost in her airy silk dresses, to... Well.

Henry came from a family of women who would politely be called ‘stout.’ Princess Zelda would put even the stoutest of them to shame… that is, if she could even waddle her way up to Henry's hometown, nestled in the mountains past the furthest reaches of the tracks.

It really didn’t help that she was so short, either. One hundred and eighty pounds wasn’t that much, but on a girl that was hardly five feet, every pound made a difference. And Zelda kept gaining more.

Chancellor Livingston checked his watch again, looked back at the guards, looked back at his watch, closed it, then opened it and watched the dial.

The ticking second hand pierced the quiet hall, slowly replaced Henry’s mind with the image of himself beating a green, oddly shaped, railroad spike into the ground.

Finally, the unmistakable sound of the door unlatching snapped over the noise of the watch. Livingston groaned in relief, pocketing the watch and holding his hands up in an appreciative gesture.

Nothing happened.

Livingston growled, the false-gracious expression melting from his face. He lifted a fist to knock on the door but before he could reach it they heard Princess Zelda clear her throat and announce, “You may enter!”

Henry glanced at the Chancellor, waiting for the older man to take the lead. He noticed Livingston’s scowl before the Chancellor turned back to the soldiers. “You will wait here. The Engineer and I will introduce the situation, and then you’ll be called in. Be sure to keep on your guard, and if he should make a move…”

One of the soldiers coughed. “Err, sir, we’re not supposed to do nothing to Royal Engineers.” He patted the man on his shoulder, and the figure listed towards the other soldier, who caught his weight. “Only reason we’re holding him is I think he’d fall over.”

“I don’t care who or what he says he is. You will keep the Princess secure, understood?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Ain’t the Royal Engineer in there? I don’t think we’d do much,” the other guard chuckled.

Henry had never seen a pair of angrier, beady dark eyes. The chuckle faded swiftly as the Chancellor glared up into the taller soldier’s face.

“S-sorry Sir. Secure, you’ve got it.”

“Aye, sir,” the other guard repeated.

“Aye, sir!” the chuckler took the hint.

His nostrils flaring, Chancellor Livingston pirouetted and marched into the double doors, pushing them open. Henry gave the guards a familiar tilt of his head, one bad day recognizing another, before following the Chancellor into the office, making sure the door stayed cracked just behind them.

“My sincere apologies, Princess,” he heard Chancellor Livingston say without any of the anger retained in his voice. He turned to look at the office at large, saw Livingston stooped in a partial bow with his top hat removed, and immediately removed his Engineer cap. Then he saw them, and Henry’s eyes went wide.

Princess Zelda was sitting at her desk, her blue eyes finding his as he quickly stepped into line. But it wasn’t her bright blue eyes, nor her brilliant blonde hair, nor even the flashy tiara or weird headpiece that she always wore.

Princess Zelda was wearing a tapestry.

A red and pink tapestry that had been entwined with golden thread to depict a, now upside-down, Triforce, and white depicting the rest of her crest. Zelda had the tapestry pulled tight around her body, nearly reaching her chin, as if she were wearing a woolen blanket during a cold day at home rather than a royal decoration off her wall at the office.

Worse yet were the folds in the threads, formed where her pudgy body strained the material and overlapped it with her curves. White curls flowed along the long fabric, creating dramatic highlights around her belly and her chest, causing the girl to look far more than chubby. Even obscured, Zelda looked like a little dumpling, with a lot of the weight carried in her soft, blushing face.

It was not a very flattering look.

Nor was the expression of her attending Royal Engineer. While Link’s uniform looked immaculate, the boy’s lips were losing a desperate battle to keep him from smiling while blue eyes were watering with laughter.

Henry remembered himself only a moment later, crossing his arm and tapping his chest three times before bowing. “Princess,” he said softly.

Chancellor Livingston finally rose up from his partial bow. “I hate to interrupt your designated time. But something has come up that needs your attention.”

Zelda breathed, something that she somehow made look as if it was taking a great deal of effort. Her belly flexed against the tight tapestry, and puffed as she was, the curve beneath didn’t look as solid. The tummy roll vanished as she let out the breath. “Something so important that it cannot wait until Lunch has ended?” she asked, her voice as thin and papery as if she was holding her breath.

“I believe not, Princess.”

Henry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Neither her nor Livingston were acknowledging the Princess-shaped elephant, or the holy insignia which she seemed to have framing her belly button.

Another moment passed in which the girl’s wheezing filled the whole room. “Very well,” she exhaled through her mouth. “Have a seat.”

She gestured to the spot across from her before looking over her shoulder, about to say something but the words died on her lips.

There was some hint of movement behind the Princess's desk, and the Royal Engineer's barely-restrained chortling quickly disappeared. “Yow!” Link yelped, holding his hand over his wrist.

Zelda’s blue eyes could have lit the boy on fire. “Would you please go and get Engineer Henry a chair?” she asked through gritted teeth.

The fire rebounded off of Link’s cheeky grin, washed out by his calm ocean blues as he chuckled at Zelda. “Anything for you, Princess,” he inclined his head. “You only have to ask.”

She stared at him as he stepped around the desk and went to a nearby station, grabbing another chair.

“I’m… surprised you remember me,” Henry admitted.

Zelda finally looked at him, and the fire became a calmer, softer light, like the one that flowed from Link. “Oh? You are Engineer Henry, Chief Engineer of the Castle Town station, yes?”

“That’s correct.” Henry sat in the offered chair.

Zelda nodded and Link took his place back at her side, his hands folded behind his back and standing at attention. “I do my best to remember all of my Engineer fleet. It’s a specialty position, and the Engineers have protected this land for generations.”

The droplet of light had an effect inside of Henry. Something he hadn’t expected, a small seed of respect. “Yes… yeah, they have,” he felt himself grin softly.

“Princess, if I may,” Livingston interrupted, “is this really all you had for lunch?”

The Chancellor gestured to a partially uneaten slice of cake that was set upon a plate on her desk that Henry only now saw. It was immediately apparent to Henry that half of one single slice was absolutely not all that the Princess had eaten, and he was quickly suspicious that the snicker from her Engineer might tell him where the rest of the cake was contained.

A container which wobbled as Princess Zelda shimmied from side to side, lifting herself up in her chair. “I do not remember my diet being a topic for public discussion, Chancellor Livingston.”

“It’s just, this can’t be enough to satisfy your nutritional needs,” the Chancellor bumbled. “Surely you could just have food delivered from the kitchens.”

Zelda cleared her throat. “I’ll have you know,” she unfurled the top of the tapestry, exposing one of her shoulders and the pale pudge of her right arm, “a slice of Millu… Mille… A slice of Thousand-Sheets Cake has everything the body needs!”

Her hand snatched at her tiny dessert fork, cutting the remaining piece completely in half. She deftly navigated the huge bite onto her tiny fork, scooping it up to her mouth with a practiced flourish, and stuffed the entire piece in all at once.

The Princess made defiant noises of enjoyment as she chewed, wrapping the tapestry back over her shoulder before swallowing the mouthful.

A noise that sounded like an engine backfiring exploded from inside of the room.

Chancellor Livingston had immediately found his feet. “What in the name of the Spirits was that?!” he demanded, looking around.

Henry saw Zelda’s pink blush, her wide eyes staring three miles away, while Link looked as if he were about to collapse from laughing so hard. He came up to Zelda’s side, carefully placing his hand through her blonde hair and began rubbing her neck.

Henry coughed, averting his eyes from the Princess’s gut.

Still wide-eyed and without looking, Zelda very softly replied, “I… don’t know what you mean Chancellor. Please, return to your seat.”

“Don’t know… didn’t you hear that burst?!” he demanded.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Link shook his head, flashing Henry a boyish grin. “Did you?”

“Uhhh… no,” he said, glancing at Livingston.

The older man turned from Zelda to Link, not even hiding his scowl before returning to his chair. “Very well, as there seems to be a joke here at my expense. We really must discuss the issue at hand.”

Zelda looked to be breathing easier now, though her cheeks could probably be mistaken for heaters. “Y-yes,” she nodded. “Well, I assume this isn’t… more stumbling about coronation preparations.” She briefly dropped the tapestry to cough, finding her bearings before adjusting and continuing. “You have clearly brought Engineer Henry here for a reason. Has something gone wrong with the tracks?”

Chancellor Livingston folded his hands, facing Henry, signaling him to speak.

Henry cleared his throat. “Zelda… Erm, Princess, Uhm…” he thought. “Today at about… 1245, I sighted a figure walking on the rails from the South-Eastern tracks.”

Whatever she’d burst must have been giving her more relief, as Zelda lifted herself a little higher. “A resident of the Ocean Realm?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” Henry shook his head. “They’re pretty close knit, even in recent years. I’ve never seen a member traveling alone, and especially not by train. But, uhh, Princess, well he’s wearing… uhh…”

Henry looked at Link, who had dropped his ‘at attention’ act and was now openly watching the discussion. The gold and ruby pin glistened from his chest.

“Yes?” Zelda asked.

“Well, he’s dressed like… you,” Henry nodded to Link.

Link’s eyebrows furrowed, then looking down at himself.

“What Engineer Henry means to say,” Livingston cut in, “the individual is wearing the uniform of the Royal Engineer. The royal blue vest, silver buttons, even the pin. I checked it myself, and it is very real.”

Zelda was looking at Link, though she turned back to the others. “Where is this man now?” she asked.

“He’s out in th-” Henry began, but he was interrupted by a slow soft tone that came out from the hallway.

Dooo doooo dooo dooo doooo

Each head snapped back to the cracked office door.

A beat passed, then two, and the tune repeated as if it were being played from inside the office.

Dooo doooo dooo dooo doooo

It sounded like a flute.

“Link?” Zelda asked.

The Royal Engineer was already moving, coming around Zelda’s side and heading for the door. As he grew closer, Henry could make out the increasing pitch of a woman singing in tune with the flute.

Ahhh Ahhhh Ahhh Ahhh Ahhhh

“Link!” Zelda exclaimed, standing up from her chair.

Link was at the door, one hand on the handle and one on his sword, drawn from somewhere Harry hadn't noticed. With a glance Henry's way he flung the door open.

The hallway was echoing with screams.

“LINK!” Zelda called as he rushed out into the hallway.

Henry was only a moment behind, hand moving for a sledgehammer that wasn’t there. Still, he hit the door hard enough to send it swinging into the wall with a crash, fist raised for what he might find.

Link was standing in the center of the unlit hallway, looking from side to side while brandishing his sword. On either edge of the hall, folded against the wall, were the two soldiers. They were screaming, pale as death, clawing backwards as if trying to meld through the stone.

In the center of the hallway, between two shattered spears, lay a pile of green and brown clothes, on top of which lay an unsheathed sword that glimmered a brilliant white.

“There’s no one here,” Link said, though he still didn’t drop his guard. “Get them inside.”

Henry was about to obey when he felt the same urge as when he was standing in front of a moving train. He moved.

Short and wide, still clutching the tapestry with her unseen hands, Zelda hopped out of the door. “You can’t run off like that!” she shouted hotly. Her blonde hair was practically glowing, casting light over the much-darkened hallway. As the light came, the two soldiers stopped screaming, turning into slight putters.

With Zelda returned the soft orange glow of nearby torches, dying embers returning to warm fires. The hallway returned to its brightness.

“There’s no one else here,” Zelda twisted from side to side, looking down the hallway. Then she turned back to Link as he sheathed his sword into a hidden scabbard beneath his waistcoat. “Link, we’re a team, remember? You can’t-”

“Zelda,” he cut her off, looking past her feet.

The Princess turned with him, seeing the clothing and the sword laid neatly on the ground. The glow from Zelda lessened as she took a tiny waddling step closer, obscured by the now obvious shining sword.

“I-is that…?” she asked.

Henry followed Link as the Royal Engineer bent over the pile. The sword was long, longer than Link’s blade, with a wide blue cross guard with an amber jewel engrained in the shape of a water droplet. Henry then saw the bright blue marking that glowed from the white, the insignia of the Triforce carved directly onto the blade.

“My Grandmother told me… But… If that’s the Master Sword…” Zelda was blinking rapidly, looking up at the empty hall as Link leaned over to retrieve the sword.

Henry was about to move to the soldiers, to help them into the room when he saw Link touch the sword. Instantly, the white light began to shimmer and fade before the sound of metal clanged through the air, and the entire sword faded into black ash, dusting the green tunic and brown boots.

******************************************************************************

“That’s everything?” Zelda asked.

“I believe so,” Henry reported.

They’d returned to her office, both of the dazed guards placed into the chairs while Henry and Livingston remained standing. Zelda had resumed her seat at the desk, her soft face puzzling the situation.

Without the pain of her belt, her belly now only ached from the stuffed and bloated feeling. A feeling that she normally very much enjoyed, when she wasn’t trying to focus on members of her staff being assaulted by what appeared to be some sort of… projection.

She tried to tap into her inner strength, to push most of the feeling of bloat out of her, but retaining just enough to make sure she could find it once these people would leave and she could… focus…

She let her feelings reach out. Her senses swam with many different sensations, but the feeling of power from out in the hall settled over her mind.

“This… is bigger than us,” she said after a moment. “I can feel it in my will. The Master Sword…”

“It couldn’t be the real thing,” Link said. “You read Tetra’s journal.”

Zelda remembered. The journal had detailed the adventures of her grandmother and her companion. “Yes,” she agreed, “But even to copy something like that would take the power of… the Goddesses. The Triforce. Or maybe…” she remembered The Beast before she shook her head. “Can you describe the man once more?” she asked Engineer Henry.

“Yeah. Dirty, uhhh, blonde. Really pale. He had blue eyes, but they looked faded.”

Zelda watched him for a moment before asking, “He looked like Link?”

Henry squinted. He then looked at Link, as did Livingston. Link’s normal, youthful smile was nowhere to be seen, and strange as it was, that actually seemed to help their comparison. Zelda saw the recognition in each of their eyes.

“Kind of… yeah,” Henry admitted, “but… different.”

“How so?” Zelda asked.

Henry stroked his chin, then approaching Link. The young Engineer only came up to his chest. Henry held his hand higher. “He was taller,” he said. “A bit stronger, thinner too.”

“Hey!” Link glared, his friendly smile returning. “I’m plenty fit!” he flexed.

Somehow, Princess Zelda found it in herself to giggle at that.

“And his hair had more… brown in it,” Henry pondered. “Not just dirt. Darker.”

Link turned to Zelda and shrugged. “Not much to go on.”

She frowned at him. Beneath the tapestry, Zelda’s right hand still ached. She’d seen the glow on his left when they’d heard the song and was absolutely sure that he’d recognized it too. That tune had been the Spirit Flute playing, matched with her own vocals singing their song.

Whoever had constructed this plot was targeting them. They’d sent that… apparition, that audible memory, even The Hero’s clothing. Now she just had to figure out how to answer-

“Whelp,” Link interrupted her thoughts, patting her on the shoulder. “Enjoy your coronation!”

Zelda’s eyes fluttered in confusion. “W-what?” she asked.

Link turned to Henry. “When’s the next train out on the South Eastern line? 1800?”

“Uhhh,” the large man thought, “1715.”

“Ahh, that’s really soon. Darn…” His shoulders then lifted in a relenting shrug. “Not really any other choice. Could you help me bring some stuff to the station?”

“Sure,” Henry replaced his cap. “Are you planning to ride the line?”

“Link!!” Zelda demanded, standing up so fast that she bonked her own chair with her curvy buttocks. It nearly tipped over. “What do you mean pack?!”

Link tilted his head. “Well, it’s obvious right? Someone sent us a message. So it’s up to me to find out what they want.”

“It’s not obvious at all!!” Zelda stomped, despite having come to the exact same conclusion. “What if it’s a trap?! What if they’re waiting for us!”

Link chuckled, though he sounded put out. “Well, I mean, they’d probably be pretty disappointed. Your coronation’s too soon to go. Can’t go, can’t fall into a trap.”

“Absolutely NOT!!!” Zelda shouted. She found the feeling she’d stored away, the feeling of the overweight bloat in her belly, of wobbling cake and heavy creams, chocolates that would soon fill her out more. She caught it, focused her mind on it, and then let her willpower make the feeling even stronger.

“E-erhem, Zelda?” she heard him.

“You aren’t going anywhere without me!!” Zelda pointed a thumb into her center, resting her other hand on her hip. She advanced on him jabbing her finger at his chest and pushing him up against the wall. “You and I are a team, Mister! I can fall into any trap I want, and if you get to go on some adventure, then you bet your bottom that I’m coming as well!!”

“Zelda, the tapestry,” Link was grimacing, pointing at the ground.

Zelda went as pale as a ghost, twisting down to look at herself. Her pale belly jiggled beneath her wobbling breasts, marshmallow flesh exploding out from several tears in her green and gold dress. Even her hips were pulling the fine fabric asunder, and she was suddenly aware of the tightness on her body rather than just what came from her stomach.

In a pile with the discarded tapestry lay her destroyed belt and her unlatched cape. Behind it, Engineer Henry was looking anywhere but at her while Chancellor Livingston was simply glaring.

As red as a cherry, Zelda screamed, grabbing Link by the vest and pulling him forward. She twisted around him, hiding what little she could of her body behind her thin lover’s frame, clutching him by the waist. Shouting over his shoulder Zelda ordered, “Chancellor Livingston, p-please send one of the servants to gather some of my belongings and bring them here, as well as one of my packs!”

Livingston sighed. “Princess, I think you should reconsider. Castle Town’s tax assembly is al-”

“I lay my trust in your capable hands to see to the issues while I’m away, Chancellor!” she tried to turn sideways, but that only made it worse as several threads popped near her waist. “Now, if you’d please!!”

“… Right,” Livingston sounded resigned. “I’ll send one of your handmaidens. Should I tell her to bring your large dresses?”

Zelda swallowed. “I-I don’t have any large dresses, Chancellor.”

Another moment before another sigh. “Your extra-large dresses then. Or shall I have her fashion something from your bed sheets.”

Zelda could feel Link’s chuckling, even though it wasn’t audible. She could just picture that big dumb smile on his goofy face. Pouting, she dug her fingers into his ribs and elicited a pained hiss. “Don’t you laugh!! This is your fault!” she growled.

“How’s it my fault?!” he shot over his shoulder.

“You cut me more cake!”

“You ate it!!”

“Just the largest dresses she can find, then.” Chancellor Livingston said dismissively as he began to walk for the door. “Henry, if you would, find another guard. Please tell him we’ll need help moving his companions.”

“Sure. I’ll… go do that…”

“Ugh… Teenagers,” Livingston all but spat the last word.

Zelda listened to both of the men leave and the door shut before she buried her face in Link’s back, needling him with her chin. “You jerk, you jerk, you made me fat!!” she mumbled into his shoulder blades.

“Glah!! Gaaaah!!!” Link bucked like a bronco, hitting Zelda’s belly with his back and causing her to nearly fold over with the sound of an upset cow. “Woah! Hey, are you- WAAAAH!!”

Summoning her will, Zelda leapt onto Link’s back, locking her arms around his shoulders. She tucked her knees into either side of his ribs and latched her mouth onto his neck, biting him.

He screamed, running around the office with the chubby Princess gnawing on his collar before falling on his face. Zelda tumbled off of him, laughing so hard that it hurt her tummy, before suddenly he was on top of her.

She could feel her legs open up around him, locking behind his and pulling him close. He smothered her tight stomach, the bloat resurfacing, the delightful pain taking over her senses and letting her eyes roll back while his hands grasped for her belly, reached up towards her chest.

She felt her middle strain as she gasped to breathe, her tongue flash out over her lips. Glancing up, she saw they’d fallen behind her desk, out of sight from the barely conscious soldiers, and reached up into the handsome face of her Link.

Only then did she see his devilish grin. She watched him slowly rise up to his knees, reach up to her desk, and come back down with the last bit of cake smothered inside of his hand. Her own lips stretched in an equally mischievous smile, and Zelda opened her mouth so she could finish every last bite.