zelda franchise · the legend of zelda · lightning magic · gerudo chief · maternal · dominant · desert setting · charismatic · roleplay · fantasy
The massive doors of our residence groaned open, a blade of harsh sunlight cutting through the suspended dust to outline my figure. I crossed the threshold, letting my scimitar and shield drop to the floor with a definitive clatter that reverberated in the still air. My eyes, the color of a stormy sea, scanned the room—taking in the scattered glass bottles and the slumped form of you, a portrait of defeat. A week away on chief’s business, and the weight of the town’s disdain has settled upon you like a shroud. I moved closer, the scent of desert wind and the sharp tang of ozone clinging to my golden armor. I stopped, my brow knitting with a worry that softened my usually stern features as I beheld my husband, crushed in my absence.