Ten months later... Ten. Excruciating. Months. Later... it is finally done. The fourth in this series of these hotbuns-filled "audition matches" for Smash Bros., this time starring Princess Zelda and her massive hitbox, is done! I'm ashamed to admit that I put this off for a lot longer than I promised the rest of you, but between my job's immense and exponentially increasing workload, the commissions and other stuff I owe people elsewhere online that I've been slowly but surely getting through, a ton of other IRL commitments, and a massive case of burnout that's been going on for several months straight, it seemed at one point or another like I'd never be able to come back to this even with the fact that I'd already had a clear idea of where to take the plot of this fic, but I'm happy to have been proven wrong in this respect. I actually have two fantastic hotbuns content creators to thank for that, TGWUO and LilacDragoon, whose own respective Smash Bros. stories (readable here and here, respectively) were what inspired me to resume work on my own SSBU hotbuns writing - especially the second one which was just posted this past weekend! A big round of applause from me goes to the both of them for helping me get my muse back (if only temporarily lol), and I look forward to their own respective future projects going forward!
For this story, I decided to expand my repertoire a little beyond my usual fare to keep things from getting repetitive, so aside from the obvious hotbuns and ENF, and for the sake of variety, there's a couple of other fetishes I snuck in as well - some I'm into, some I'm neutral towards (but which are still adjacent to those kinks I do enjoy). This is also the first entry in this collection with an all-female selection of characters featured - a rare distinction coming from my writing - but my choices just felt right this time around. Cooking Mama has been a rather popular request for a new fighter for SSB for a long time now and I'm admittedly one of those who wants her in, so plenty of fanmade movesets for her have cropped up over the years. I bet this may not be how Smash would implement her if she ever got in, but it's what I came up with and for the purposes of this story, I think it works just fine. More importantly, it also serves Zelda right for underestimating her opponent: as sweet and kind as she is, I figured having the Triforce of Wisdom would give her just a smidge of smugness over her sheer magical power... never mind that more than a few other characters in SSBU still outclass her competitively! As does Cooking Mama in this story, for that matter, as the unfortunate princess learns the hard way. XD
As I've just noted, this story was massively overdue, and I hope it was worth the wait! I'm not going to jinx myself and say that my next project will be coming quickly, knowing how hectic things have been on my end and how much burnout I've had to slog through, but I'm glad to have gotten this story out of the way so I can finally move on to my next written endeavor. In the meantime, I hope all of my fellow Americans had a happy Thanksgiving, assuming you celebrate it!
Cooking Mama (c) Majesco
The Legend of Zelda, Super Smash Bros. (c) Nintendo
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To be fair to Princess Zelda, of course, Hyrule’s cuisine had been a constant all her life, and she’d decided long ago that her palate could do with some variety. The parallel realm of Lorule held promise at first, but after discovering that the Triforce pumpkin muffins served there were identical to those made in Hyrule, she figured she’d be stuck with the usual fare from her home world as long as she lived.
Of course, that was before she’d been inducted into the Super Smash Bros. Ultimate Tournament and, on her first day at the Smash Mansion, took the time to sample a few delicacies fresh from the kitchen of the brown-haired, yellow-apron-clad woman whom she’d later come to call her “culinary soulmate”. Of course, most of the time she just called her “Mama”, since everyone else called her that - nobody knew the real name of this woman, but the nickname of “Cooking Mama” had been thrown around once or twice and stuck like glue. She didn’t mind, of course, but the grown-ups calling her that felt a little weird, even to this day.
“Good afternoon, Mama!” the blonde princess in her white and pink dress said cheerfully the second she’d come up to the counter where Mama was stationed. “Hopefully your day’s been going well. Got anything good for the lunch rush?”
Mama chuckled at this. “You had lunch an hour ago. What gives?”
“Heh, I meant the lunch tomorrow,” Zelda replied with a laugh of her own. “But dinner is fine, too! Just feeling a little curious, that’s all.”
Mama turned her back on the counter with the intent of scanning the kitchen where everyone else was still hard at work. “It’s been business as usual here, but not too bad, all things considered. The two-year anniversary of the Ultimate tournament Grand Finals of ‘21 is coming up soon, and we figured we’d practice for the banquet setup when that day comes.”
Zelda’s lovely face lit up with excitement. “Oh, sweet! So, does this mean you’re previewing some of the food for us this evening?”
“Well, you’ll have to wait until tonight to find out,” Mama chided gently as she turned back to her royal friend. “If you keep sneaking food from the kitchen outside of the meal periods, I’m pretty sure a certain hitbox of yours will soon become huge enough to be considered bannable.”
Zelda scoffed with a jokingly affronted look. “You’re not seriously framing the greatness of my fanny as a bad thing, are you?” She gave Mama a half-lidded smirk, before twisting her upper body around to give the seat of her dress a light smack, demonstrating the natural bounciness of what was beneath it. “I’m proud of it being as plump as it is, thank you very much! Or spank you, if you will.”
Mama rolled her dark eyes with an amused snort. “Okay, that hurt, and you knew it.”
“I’m just saying,” Zelda replied with a shrug, “the good stuff you’ve given me has had to go somewhere, and at least it’s ending up in the right place! The cuisine from my home world is nice and all, but suffice it to say I’m not giving up the more exotic fare like sushi and spaghetti and meatballs anytime soon.”
“Well, if it helps, I can certainly teach you to cook those on your own,” Mama replied with a chuckle as she resumed work on frying a salmon filet on her trademark skillet. “It’s what I do in my home games, after all.”
“Oh please. Do you want me to land somebody in the infirmary’s poison center?” the princess replied with a snicker. “I’m surprised you haven’t yet heard that my first and only attempt at cooking led to exactly that happening.”
“Wait, what?!”
Zelda suppressed a snort with difficulty. “Word of advice, Mama: Never leave any kind of meat dish, even one you plan to discard because you screwed it up enough to fumigate half the mansion, in the same room as Dedede.”
“Ouch.” Mama grimaced. “Well, that explains the awful smell I caught that day. I honestly thought something had died inside the mansion’s AC…”
“Not quite, but I wouldn’t be surprised if anyone drew that conclusion.” Zelda pushed the grisly memory back to the recesses of her mind. “On an unrelated note, though, there’s another thing I’ve been meaning to ask you, and it’s actually why I came here. See, Master Hand is looking for new playable characters for the next tournament, and he’s tasked pretty much all of us with asking around however and whenever we can. So, are you planning to sign up for the latest round of fighter auditions?”
Mama stopped so abruptly that the skillet jerked upward, sending the fish airborne and spinning in the air for much longer than she’d have liked. “Oh, it… Honestly, I never thought of that,” she replied hastily, catching the plummeting seafood with the skillet just in time. “But now that I think of it, I probably don’t think I should. I’m happy enough on kitchen duty, but compared to everyone I’ve seen who was made playable, I’m not sure how well I can stack up…”
Zelda gaped at her, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Since when were you, of all people, hesitant about anything? I thought one of your personal mottos was to never be afraid to try something new!”
Mama gave Zelda a rueful smile for a moment. “I know, but even that has its limits. I know my limits. And having served practically every playable character on the roster for the last tourney, I can tell you right now that I’m not going to put my life on the line taking on any of them just to entertain some folks. Not even Kirby — that adorable little puffball who, need I remind you, has taken on universe-ending abominations without breaking a sweat.”
Zelda sputtered for a few moments, her eyes still wide with shock. “But… But…”
“The point being,” Mama continued as she switched off the burner and transferred the fish to a cutting board for the next step of preparation, “whether or not it’s all in good fun, there’s no denying that the Smash Bros. tournament is dangerous. No matter how many failsafes the Hands might’ve put up, who knows what’ll happen if they don’t work? So that being said, I just don’t think getting involved in it is worth the risk.”
There was a WHOOSH and a flash of green light, and Mama yelped a second later as Zelda suddenly appeared mere feet away from her, the Hylian’s expression midway between desperate pleading and indignant fury. “Not worth the risk? Are you out of your mind?! For the record, the entire reason these tournaments are hosted in the first place is so all the playable characters can determine what they’re capable of and develop the skills and talents that we will need in an actual emergency! It took literally every single fighter the Hands have ever accepted thus far to put a stop to Galeem and Dharkon’s reign of terror, and even then, we weren’t sure all of us would make it out alive. Suffice it to say, nobody’s taking any chances now, and we’re going to need all the help we can get the next time the multiverse is about to be destroyed!”
Mama stepped away from Zelda with a look of annoyance, consternation, and just a hint of dread. “What good is going to come from getting me of all people to help, though? Why are you being so insistent that you’re willing to use Farore’s Wind to break into our kitchen just to ask this of me?! Anything I can do, I’m sure you or anyone else on the roster can do better. So there’s no point in talking to me about this, especially since you’ve just risked the safety of both of us in the process by teleporting into the middle of an area that should only be used by the kitchen staff.”
Zelda “hmph”-ed and crossed her arms, taking a seat on the nearest surface available. Clearly, she wasn’t about to give up so soon. “You never know until you try, though. A lot of the audition matches have given us a view of feats we never thought possible. If I had to guess, there might even be a tactical role on the battlefield that none of us even considered was needed, but which you’d be a perfect fit for.” She leaned back in place, putting her arms to either side to support herself — and unknowingly pressing one of the buttons on the countertop. “Buuuuut if you’re so insistent on not going, you’d be missing your chance to surprise us, wouldn’t you?”
Mama thought about it for a moment, and then shook her head. “Even if I wanted to go, though, I’m still just an ordinary woman with no special abilities. I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to imagine what would happen if I got pitted against the likes of Ridley, Ganondorf, or — God help us — Sephiroth.” She turned towards her friend, having just finished preparing the lemon salmon and asparagus and popped it in the oven. “So if I fail, then that’s that, but if I pass, I’d no doubt be outclassed, and therefore in even… greater… danger…” She trailed off, her eyes widening in alarm.
Zelda gave her a deadpan, skeptical look. “Why do you think we have an entire infirmary’s worth of the best medical professionals Nintendo has to offer? And ways to resurrect the dead, even, if worse comes to worse? Really, I don’t think you should be so worried.”
“Uh… Zelda?”
“Not to mention your performance during the auditions will be amazing, I’m sure,” the princess blithely continued. “I’ve seen you flip out when you’ve been given a badly cooked dish. That kind of fiery spirit shouldn’t be forced to stay in the kitchen!”
“Er, that’s not what I—”
“Oh come on, don’t sweat it! Some of us fighters have some pretty insane movesets, so I wouldn’t call you outclassed by any stretch. For that matter, I don’t think you’d even need to take up any martial art — your cooking skills alone might just be enough.” She sniffed the air a few times before continuing. “Ooh, and speaking of cooking, what’s that yummy smell? Are you making a nice rump roast for tonight’s special?”
Mama gulped, pointing at where Zelda was seated. “That roast would be you, I’m afraid. You’re sitting on the stove burner!”
The princess’ eyes widened in realization. Her mouth worked and her eyes watered as she finally took notice of the smoke rising from her backside, the blue flames of the now merrily running gas burner only barely visible under its ample padding.
“Yeeee…eeeiiieeeiiieeeEE…EEEEEEIIIIEEEEEEEOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!” Zelda screamed, the sheer pain of the intensely hot cooking fire sending her rocketing straight up into the air. There was a loud CRASH as her head smashed through the ceiling, and she continued crying out in anguish even while summarily trapped, flames erupting from her butt and sending smoke alarms ringing.
“OOUUUCH! PUT IT OUUUUT!” her muffled shrieks came from the ceiling. “WHY WAS THERE A BURNER THEEERE?! OW OW OW OW OWOWOWOOOWWW! HOTHOTHOTHOTTTT! YEEEOUUUCH! SOMEONE, HEEEELP!”
“Hang on, I’ll get a fire extinguisher real quick!” Mama replied, preparing to make a mad dash for the object in question. “Stay right there!”
“I CAN’T! I NEED WATER AND I NEED IT NOOOOUUUCH! IT BURNS, IT BURNS!!” In desperation, Zelda planted her hands on the ceiling and started pushing herself free from the hole she’d busted into it. It took a bit of effort, but she managed to free herself a few seconds later… only to fall back down onto the still-running burner. “AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
Screaming at the top of her lungs, Zelda leapt off the burner and started frantically running around the kitchen, upsetting crockery and utensils at random as the smoke alarms began ringing all around them both. “WATERWATERWATERWATERRRR! EEYOOUUCH! EEK! I NEED A BUCKET!”
Mama yelped in surprise as the sprinklers went off, but she had bigger concerns right now than her clothes being soaked. She was just about to reach for the fire extinguisher like she’d said before when Zelda suddenly let out a noise of excitement and frantically dove for a washing basin next to the oven, which happened to be full of fluid — opaque soapsuds, yes, but at least it was water and not, say, cooking oil.
Not for the first time that afternoon, Mama’s eyes widened in horror. “Zelda, wait! That tub’s for—”
Too late. In a move reminiscent of Peach’s famous Peach Bomber, the other blonde princess whirled and slammed her sizable backside down towards the basin like her life depended on it, too blinded by the pain to notice what was inside the basin aside from the water.
Specifically, the basin was specifically used to wash used cutlery, and the rack concealed under the surface of the water was well-stocked today. The way the washing process worked meant that every single fork, knife, and other extremely sharp metal implement was stored business-end up. It was only a second before Zelda got the point… quite literally.
SPLSH-SHHNNNK-SSSSSSS!!
The fire was instantly extinguished in a cloud of steam, but it didn’t matter. The embodiment of Wisdom, the monarch of Hyrule and guardian of the Triforce, was reduced to absolute silence for a few horrific seconds as her scorched and still-tender buttocks were turned into pincushions by countless blades and steel spikes, the size of her hitbox ensuring that nearly every single utensil was able to deeply puncture the soft flesh that had already been exposed by the fire. Her pink Triforce-patterned panties had been next to useless when it came to protecting her against the self-inflicted assault.
“Yiiii…iiiiIII…IIIIIEEEEEEEE…EEEEEEEEYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCHHHHH!!!” Zelda’s scream was so loud and high-pitched that it actually cracked several glass jars nearby, the girl leaping forward and upward from the pain with such tremendous force that she sailed in a graceful arc clear across the kitchen, clutching at her buttocks which each had at least a half-dozen steel barbs embedded in them (though the knife that had scored a bulls-eye at the exact center of the back of her panties had been dislodged, leaving a large gash in the delicate fabric). Mama could only watch, helpless to stop the disaster from unfolding before her eyes. She couldn’t even get the chance to take a single step before the younger woman smashed into the wall-mounted sauce rack at the other side of the room, reducing the wood to splinters and causing countless jars and bottles to tumble and shatter upon both the floor and the top of the princess’ head.
CLONK-CLANK-THUNK-WHUMP-CRASH!!
“Da-bwuh…?” Zelda managed to land on her feet, but she was now hurt on both ends and too dizzy to stay balanced. Drenched in condiments and with several round, pink lumps growing from her hair, the Hylian wobbled about in a slow circle for a few seconds, her pupils spinning in opposite directions, before she hit the floor, face-first.
There was a beat of silence as the sprinklers finally shut off. Then Mama muttered to herself: “I’m going to get blamed for this when she wakes up. I just know it.”
The last item on the destroyed rack that had remained untouched, a small bottle with a black label bearing a flaming red skull on it, was positioned on a platform of wood that was now suspended by only one wall support. The shelf slowly tilted, sending the bottle sliding downward towards the prone princess below it, her butt sticking comically in the air with its steel-filled twin moons spread wide open. As it fell, its lid came loose and it began to rotate in mid-air, a liquid inferno the color of a sunset began spilling from it before — TSHMP! — the bottle’s neck passed through the hole in the rear center of Zelda’s panties and inserted itself into a much smaller hole within.
Only a second passed before her eyes flew open, her face turning red as a Maxim Tomato.
“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!” Zelda shrieked, hurtling herself forward as the effect of the extra-strength chili sauce took hold. “NYOOOOO! HOTHOTHOTHOTTTT—!!!”
WHAM! A new lump was added to her collection as she collided head-first with the bottom of the oven. She slumped once again with her butt in the air, just as the oven timer went off with a ding!
And then the oven door swung open and downwards, right into the utensils still stuck in Zelda’s rear. The untouched, perfectly done lemon salmon and asparagus was visible inside, as if mocking her over the entire disaster.
WHMP-SHINNK!!!
Beat.
“AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
It was more than two hours before the princess left the infirmary, finding Mama waiting anxiously just outside the front door. Evidently, all that destruction in the kitchen earlier meant the chef would have to suspend her duties until the place was repaired (and that the Hands would have to bulk-order delivery pizza for everyone tonight). Still, the atmosphere was tense as they made eye contact — the look on Zelda’s face was very, very grim indeed.
“This is all your fault,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
And there it is, Mama thought. She stood up as she addressed the Hylian: “How, exactly? You were the one who entered the kitchen without a permit, and got careless enough to get yourself hurt on all the cooking equipment, despite all the warnings I gave you. What was I supposed to do?!”
“You could’ve at least had the sense to consider my offer — the Hands’ offer — rather than spitting in my face over it!” Zelda put her hands a little further back on her wide hips than one usually would as she glared at Mama with utmost fury. “Say what you will, but the circumstances we’re all facing aren’t going to take no for an answer!”
That did it. Mama’s eyes burst into flame as she glared back, causing the princess to take a step back. “Do you mean to say that you aren’t going to take no for an answer?!” she shouted, her fists balled and her posture as if ready to throw herself at the other woman and pummel her senseless.
To what little credit she had, Zelda was not deterred by the terrifying vision for long — she’d dealt with much worse before than an angry mother, after all. “Oh, don’t you tell me what to do.” she smiled smugly at Mama, her eyes half-lidded. “I am the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom! Knowledge courses through me, and I’ve bested a great many people of terrible power! If you think you have a chance against me, then what are you waiting for? But know that you’ll soon get a taste of what I can do!”
Mama felt her heart sink at this. What had she gotten herself into? Zelda certainly wasn’t making up her boasting, but it was clear she was going a bit too far. The mansion already had more than enough royal brattiness with Bowser Jr.! But how could Mama, an ordinary woman who was only good at cooking and crafting, teach this powerful princess a much-needed lesson in humility?
Then she remembered the incident with the stove burner… and everything else in the kitchen, for that matter. An idea came to her, one that she couldn’t believe she was thinking. But whatever it took to humble her dear friend, doing so must be done.
“I believe I have a chance,” Mama said finally. “Could you be so kind as to take me to Master Hand to arrange a match between us? I don’t know whether or not he’ll allow it, but—”
Zelda huffed with a satisfied smile, her hands once again on her hips… a little further back than usual. “Worry not, I’ll handle that part. But after that, be ready. My massive-ass hitbox is coming for you!”
Mama had to suppress a snort of amusement. Knowing what was to come, Zelda should’ve chosen her words more carefully!
**********
The match was thus decided: One stock each, no items or Assist Trophies, no time limit, Final Smashes allowed. The stage selected was the Great Plateau Tower, a location familiar to the princess — and also a stage with a strategic advantage. The only platform on the stage was one with an obvious hazard, a collapsible roof that could crush anyone unlucky enough to stand directly under it when the supports gave way. Between that and the bottomless pit encircling the entire tower, there was no way either girl would be able to escape this fight by simply hiding. Though in fairness, the lack of a time limit was also imposed to deter any attempt at stalling.
Her outfit repaired and a gleam of prideful intent in her eyes, Zelda stood on one end of the stage, her hitbox in pristine condition and her magic reserves in full supply. She eyed her opponent with renewed confidence, though a small part of her deep down hoped it wasn’t woefully displaced. “Nowhere to run now, Mama. Ready to go?”
On the other side of the platform, the redhead in question adjusted her bandanna, daring not to give away the fact that her heart was pounding in her throat. What have I gotten myself into? she thought. Zelda is indeed powerful, much more so than me! One wrong move, and I’ll be the one spending the evening in a medical ward!
Still, she took a deep breath and fanned herself in a bid to stay calm. There was no turning back now…
“Yes,” she said finally. “I am ready.”
Zelda smirked. This battle would be a cakewalk, she decided. “Then let us begin!”
THREE! TWO! ONE! GO!!!
Zelda was already moving even before the echo of the announcement faded out, barreling towards Mama with deceptive speed for someone in heels. She wasn’t the quickest runner around, of course, but knowing her opponent’s own attributes, it didn’t matter. She braked before her opponent could start moving towards her and, with a wave of her hand, sent forth a blast of Din’s Fire, expecting Mama to jump over it so she could follow up with a Farore’s Wind and catch her in midair.
What she didn’t know yet was that given her line of work, Mama was noticeably slower than her opponent, and had little experience with anything acrobatic. There was no way she’d be able to jump over the fireball, let alone in time. What she did have, however, was a means to block it.
Reaching into the pocket space she had right behind her, the one everyone in the mansion had to stow their gear in while traveling, Mama whipped out her trusty frying pan at literally the last moment, swinging it in front of her like a baseball bat. She made sure to keep both hands on the insulated handle exclusively because the pan was designed to transfer thermal energy — and indeed, as the fireball exploded and the searing heat made her brow start sweating, the black metal quickly became a luminous orange, the air around it shimmering.
Caught off guard and momentarily blinded by smoke, Zelda decided to change tactics. Setting up a suit of armor, she backed up and let it rush forward to swing at her foe with its sword. The clang of metal meeting metal, however, told her that the Phantom Slash too had been countered.
As the smoke and armor disappeared, Mama burst out from her cover with her still-smoldering pan raised high, preparing to bring it down on Zelda’s head. But then a second clang made her ears ring and her fingers tremble — the crystalline shield of Naryu’s Love had been erected just in time.
“Looks like we’re at an impasse,” the princess chuckled. “But not for long!”
The whoosh of Farore’s Wind gave Mama only a moment’s warning. Zelda was now right behind and above her, and the redhead had only a second to react as she whirled and aimed a forward Lightning Kick squarely at Mama’s face.
CLONG!
As it turned out, Mama still had the pan on her, and it had cooled just enough that she could touch the metal part of it without hurting herself. Just in the nick of time, she’d raised it with one hand braced against the dish, protecting her face from the impact at the expense of sending a painful electrical jolt through her left arm. Her KO percentage was now at 20%, while Zelda’s still remained at 8%… wait a minute.
Zelda’s eyes widened as an electric surge of a different kind ran up her leg and straight into her brain. Thanks to the open-toed nature of her heels, the impact with the metal shield had gone right into the tips of her exposed toes.
“YEEEEOUCH-OUCH-OUUUCH!” she squealed, hurtling herself off of Mama and landing on her one good foot, hopping up and down in a small circle as she continued shrieking in pain. “OWWW! OW OW OW OWW! YOU HURT MY FOOT, YOU AND YOUR STUPID FRYING PAN—”
She looked up just in time to see that Mama had stowed the pan and was now carrying a stack of dishes with the intent of throwing them like discuses at her. She lurched forward, only to trip over her own feet and fall flat on her face, causing the dishes to topple right onto Zelda’s head with a CRASH-SMASH-BASH!
“Uweeeueue?!” Staggering around in a daze with her KO percentage now at 20%, she didn’t notice that Mama had one last dish still in her hands before she flung it forward so it went right under the princess’ feet, sending her tumbling butt-first towards her opponent. “Whaaaa—!”
Just in the nick of time, Mama’s eyes blazed, and next thing she knew, she’d whipped out an entire hibachi grill, much to her own surprise. This must be one of my Smash attacks, she thought to herself, but no sooner had she completed that sentence in her head when Zelda sat down hard on the surface of the grill, already glowing orange.
TSSSSSSSS!
Zelda’s eyes widened as, for the second time that day, the smell of cooked meat invaded her nostrils, but there was no rump roast to be found here… unless you counted the name of Mama’s Up-Smash attack (“Rump Roast” in Camel Case), whose double meaning was now painfully clear to the younger girl!
“YEEEOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUCHIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” Zelda screeched as she rocketed off the grill, smashing a massive hole through the roof of the tower in the process. The lump on her head was nothing compared to the searing heat inflicted upon her deluxe-sized peach. Black scorch marks were actually visible on the seat of her dress as she arced through the air with a trail of smoke behind her, away from the central — and only — platform.
“That should keep her busy for a couple of seconds,” Mama said to herself as she got to her feet, switching off the grill and stowing it away again. Her own KO percentage was now significantly less than Zelda’s, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. Keeping an eye out on her still-airborne opponent, she reached into her hammerspace again and pulled out an entire running gas stove, deciding not to ask how it was able to turn itself on without fuel or electricity, let alone expand to full size in less than a second. This was not the time to question the logic of this setting. Instead, she promptly broke out a whole spread of ingredients from her invisible storage space and quickly got to work on her neutral special: Kitchen Magic.
This special was not meant for attacking in any way, at least not at first glance. Mama was so focused on cooking that if her opponent got the drop on her, she would be unable to attack or defend herself at all. But she was fast, and within her work space, time seemed to accelerate, so recipes that normally required at least ten minutes to finish could be done within mere seconds. As a case in point, by the time she noticed Zelda coming at her again, seeing her move in slow motion, Mama had finished making two bowls of ramen, three omelets, a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, and a baker’s dozen of doughnuts.
As for Zelda, she had managed to pat out the fire with a self-inflicted spanking while still flying through the air, but she was now in danger of falling off the stage. Luckily, she still had Farore’s Wind on standby, and she was not about to be bested. Using her own up-special to warp back to the edge of the stage and climb back to safety, she saw her foe working at accelerated speed, seemingly unaware of her surroundings.
“Damn, that woman can cook,” she said to herself, before shaking her head. “But no matter. She’s mine!”
Running towards her opponent with the intent of tackling her off the platform, she saw the food start flying just in time. Not wanting a repeat of the previous trip-up, she used Farore’s Wind just before the spaghetti reached her foot, and next thing she knew, she was directly above her opponent. With a “Hyaaahhh!” reminiscent of Link’s distinctive warcry, she descended with her legs to her chest, bent on delivering a Meteor Heel with enough force to hammer Mama into the ground.
But as previously stated, Mama had already seen her coming. Her work on the stove was done, she decided. As time began to resume its normal flow around her, the redhead turned all the stove burners on to maximum capacity and backed up to (what she hoped was) a safe distance. Whirling and posing, she then heard the distinct jingle of a step in cooking being completed by anyone taking lessons from her, and just as Zelda was about to strike—
KABOOOOOOOM!!
“YAAAAAAAHOOHOOHOOHOOIIEEEEEEEEE! MY AAAAASSSSS!!” Zelda shrieked, flames and smoke trailing from her hitbox in earnest now as she was sent flying a second time, slapping and spanking her burning butt until it was raw. The sudden explosion of Mama’s stove had bumped her KO percentage up to more than 70% — but if it was any consolation, Mama herself had not exactly come away from the blast unscathed either, seeing as she had been directly in front of the oven with her back to it when it had detonated.
“KYAAAA! HOTHOTHATATATATAAA!!” With her own KO percentage now at 56% and rising steadily, Mama ran around in circles for a short moment, slapping at her own blazing butt with wide eyes of pained shock. It was a few moments of this before she realized that she hadn’t used her other specials yet. Preparing to drop to the ground and roll until the fire in her pants went out, she found herself surprised when a watering can fell out of her hammerspace. Without stopping to question where it had come from, though, she instantly grabbed it and poured it over her backside, steam coming from where the fire had just been. “Ahhhh…”
Zelda, for her part, was only marginally less lucky. With a squeal of disgust and pain, she landed butt-first onto the plate of still-hot spaghetti, sliding across the platform as the fire that had just eaten away at the seat of her dress was instantly smothered. But the rest of the food had also been thrown into the air by the explosion, and as a series of shadows fell over her, she looked up just in time to see the ramen, donuts, and omelets descending upon her.
CRASH-SPLUT-WHUNK-SPLASH!
“WAAAAHHHH! OWIEEEEE! IT BURNS! EEEEP! NONONO—AAEEEEEE!!” Zelda tried to shield her head from the falling entrees, but it was to no avail as they pelted her like a salvo of cannonballs. This ended with the second bowl of ramen landing upside-down on top of her head, spilling its contents all over her upper body and eliciting a shriek of anguish; the scalding-hot water seemed to soak into her bosom in particular.
Groaning miserably, her irises circling once again and her dress so thoroughly soaked and stained that she could barely see any of its original colors, Zelda swiftly shook herself out of her dazed state before pulling the now-empty ramen bowl off her head and tossing it aside. She checked her KO percentage, expecting to be at over the 100% threshold — only to find, to her surprise, that it was actually lower than she’d expected, and at 46%, it was in fact even lower than before she’d been bombarded by the food… all of which had mysteriously vanished as though someone had eaten it.
“THAT COUNTS AS A HEAL?!” she sputtered indignantly.
“The more I participate in this tournament, the less I understand it,” Mama replied from nearby, still holding the watering can in her hands. “But a match is a match. Unless you’d rather call it off?”
The question made Zelda’s blood boil. It would ultimately be to her detriment, but she was too stubborn to admit defeat. Springing to her feet, she whirled and ran at Mama with murderous intent. “WHY, YOU—!”
Mama tilted the watering can over the ground around her feet at the last moment, causing flowers to sprout and burst into bloom within less than a second. This down-special, Gardening Mama, was apparently meant as a countering move, and if the fact that one of the flowers suddenly turned into an apple was any indication, it could also provide a very minor amount of healing. More importantly, however, the moment the flowers burst open, they unleashed a massive cloud of sparkling yellow pollen. Unable to stop herself in time, Zelda was caught right in the midst of the pollen, skidding to a halt as she found herself covered in honey-colored glitter dust, temporarily blinded.
“W-what did you do?!” she yelped, trying to regain her bearings as her foe prepared to break out her frying pan again.
“No clue, but maybe you should put a stop to this madness before this gets out of me!” Mama replied, shrugging.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Zelda shouted, her every movement scattering pollen into the wind as she readied another Din’s Fire. “This is far from over! I’m going to make sure you regret having ever crossed mhhh… ahhh… AHHH…”
Mama flinched, taking her skillet out anyway, but instead of bashing her opponent with it, she held it up to protect her face again. Oh, yeah, she thought. Pollen does that.
“AHHHH… CHOOOO!!!!” Zelda’s sneeze was so tremendous that it sent out a second, smaller cloud of pollen around her — and unbeknownst to her, the combination of the fireball she’d been about to launch and the sheer amount of powder in the air was a dangerous combination.
KA-BLAAAAMMMM!!!
The powder explosion sent Zelda flying backward, her now-tattered dress trailing smoke and embers. She slammed butt-first into one of the supports of the roof with such force that if it hadn’t been for the cartoon physics applied to everyone participating in the tournament, she’d have broken too many bones to count. As it was, her KO percentage shot up from 75% to 90% as she squealed in pain from the impact of her hitbox against the pillar, which cracked to pieces from the blow. When she recovered and wiped the dust from her eyes, she heard a creaking, cracking noise, and looked up in time to see the roof begin to wobble dangerously, pieces of rubble coming down from it.
“Oh, no…” she murmured, just before the roof came tumbling down on top of her with a tremendous crashing sound and a massive dust cloud.
Coughing and spluttering, Mama thanked her lucky stars that the blast had flung out from under the roof just in time, even with her KO percentage now up to 101%. She fanned the dust away from her and looked up to see Zelda’s lower half sticking out of the rubble, and specifically the bits of debris now teetering dangerously upon the edge of the stage. The broken roof was mere seconds away from tumbling into the void, taking Zelda with it!
If Mama had not forged a friendship with her long-time customer, she’d have simply stood there and left her to her fate. But as she saw the rubble begin to tilt with a deep creaking sound, she realized that it just wouldn’t feel right for her to simply let Zelda plummet to her doom — even if the two would come away from this alive at the end of it all, albeit with one of them significantly more battered than the other.
Still, I can’t let anything really bad happen to her! But I have a feeling I’m going to regret this later…
Reaching into her hammerspace once more, Mama whipped out an entire grocery cart, and as soon as it expanded to its original size and clattered onto the platform, she grabbed onto the handlebar and rushed forward with tremendous speed. Her side-special, Shop and Chop, was a solid escape option, but it could also be used to close the distance quickly, which was what she was doing now; the fact that it picked up food items, albeit weaker ones like produce, milk, or cheese, mattered little by this point.
Just as she jumped the cart onto the rubble and made her way over to Zelda, the bits of broken roof slid off the edge of the tower and plummeted towards the void below. The debris came apart in mid-air to reveal the unconscious princess, her eyes spinning with multiple bumps on her head, her clothing mere moments from falling apart altogether. The closest part of her to Mama was her lower body, the hem of her ruined dress in ruins but her Triforce panties mercifully still intact.
Mama had only one hope left. She reached behind her one more time and whipped out… a kite frame?! Oh well, she’d done more with less.
Her up-special, Crafting Mama, was in fact a useful tool for recovery, but she’d have to craft the kite first. The only bits of material she had on her were Zelda’s already-ruined dress, but she had no time to lose. Time seemed to slow down around the pair again as she tore strips of fabric away from the hem of her opponent’s dress and stuck them to the frame, eventually getting a complete kite, complete with a long, pink ribbon for a tail. Grasping the reel with one hand and the nearest part of Zelda’s outfit she could reach with the other, she let the kite fly and hoped for the best.
The wind blowing up from the base of the tower was not enough to catch either girl directly, but the kite was big enough to carry them both upon the rising air current. It was incredibly fortunate that it lasted just long enough to get Mama back to the edge of the platform, but at the same time…
Zelda’s blue-green eyes popped wide open as she felt her panties being yanked upward with terrible force. The feeling of the fabric grinding between her dual moons and against the most delicate parts of her was more than enough to jolt her back to her senses.
“YYYAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!!! LET GO OF MEEEEEEEE!!!”
“Not until we get to safety!” Mama yelled back. “Darn it, stop struggling!”
“DID YOU HEAR ME?! THOSE ARE MY FAVORITE PANTIES, YOU PIECE OF—”
“That’s what you’re worried about?!” Mama shouted, her eyes somehow emitting little flickers of fire, but she was more focused on the status of her kite than her indignant rescuee. “Just shut it and let me finish this!”
“UWAAAAAHHHHHH! OWWWW! NO! I WON’T SUBMIT! STOP IT! GET AWAY FROM MEEEEE!” Zelda yelled, kicking and flailing; she was very close to slipping out of her opponent’s grasp and falling again.
Luckily, Mama’s fingers found the ledge just as the kite fell apart, its frame and the pieces of Zelda’s dress that she’d used to make it scattering into the wind. With one mighty heave that demonstrated strength beyond what most assumed the kind and motherly woman was capable of, she flung Zelda clear over her head and back onto the safety of the platform.
The princess squealed as her butt skidded across the platform, picking up a few stray pebbles along the way. She stopped close to the center of the stage, not caring that the roof had reformed over her head. Getting to her feet shakily, she turned to see Mama climbing back up as well.
“So… should we just call off this match?” Mama asked hesitantly, appraising her opponent’s current state. “I feel like that’s the safest option by this point, since it’d save us both even further embarrassment.”
Zelda was about to protest when she felt a breeze between her legs. Looking down, she shrieked in red-faced horror, before covering her bosom with one hand and her crotch with the other; the top of her robe had been burnt away in so many places that her bra, with the same color and pattern as her panties, was partly showing, while the lower part was completely gone, her stretched-out undergarment flapping in the wind behind her like a flag.
“My dress!” she screamed in humiliation and anger. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DRESS?!?”
“What I had to do to save your life!” Mama replied, though she bowed her head regretfully. “I would’ve asked first, but there was no time—”
“I DON’T CARE!” Zelda yelled, her face red with fury now. “You ruined everything! If you hadn’t tried to turn me down, NONE OF THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED! I HATE YOU!! WHEN I GET MY FINAL SMASH, I SWEAR TO DIN, FARORE, AND NARYU, I’LL—”
“Zelda, please take a deep breath and think rationally,” Mama said in the most maternal tone she could manage. “You need to consider your part in this whole situation and take responsibility for—”
“HOW IS ANY OF THIS MY FAULT?!” Zelda shouted, readying her Phantom Slash and Din’s Fire at the same time. “You were the one who refused to even consider my offer to join the Smash Bros. Tournament! You were the one who did nothing to help when I got into that kitchen accident! I keep trying to get you to see things the way I and the other fighters do, but you never listen! It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall!”
“Zelda—” Mama raised her hands to try and stop the princess from ranting.
“A really! Really! Ignorant! Brick! Wall! Named! MAMA!”
“Please, calm down—” Mama started saying desperately, but Zelda cut her off again.
“And do you want to know something else?! I NEVER WANT TO EAT ANY MORE OF YOUR COOKING EVER AGAIN!!”
Mama gasped, all the color draining from her face.
“NEVER!!!” Zelda screamed.
The two were silent, save for Zelda’s exhausted panting… and a quiet sob that came from Mama’s throat as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears sliding down her cheeks. Even the stage itself seemed to get very quiet.
And then, deep within Mama’s heart, mind, and soul… something snapped.
When the redhead opened her eyes again, they were aglow with the fire of a thousand suns, her entire face a blazing scarlet and steam coming out of her ears with a whistling sound like a tea kettle. Mama raised her fists, her knuckles white, the corners of her mouth downturned in a frown that practically screamed “I’m not only angry, but also very disappointed”. The display was enough for Zelda’s anger to evaporate within less than a second… and in its place, fear reigned.
“…eek,” the Hylian whimpered, a mere instant before all hell broke loose.
Mama let out a scream of pure rage, whipping out her shopping cart once again. The terrified princess wasted no further time gawking, and instead turned and ran… before her feet slipped out from under her thanks to the pebbles she’d picked up and she landed flat on her face again.
The cart was upon her within less than a second, and with a loud THUD, it had run her over and forced her front half into the platform like a pitfall trap, snagging her panties on one of its wheels as it fell over the edge and yanked them back into the painful wedgie she’d just endured, making her squeal in agony. Once again, her tush was sticking out comically, but this time, Mama was not going to save her; in fact, the redhead was in a state of unbridled fury, brought about automatically by being at 100% or above in the same fashion as Terry. In the blink of an eye, she’d instead sat on both of her lower legs, breaking out every handheld cooking implement she could summon and scattering them upon the floor all around the pair, every skewer, ladle, spatula, and more within arm’s reach of the now royally pissed-off chef.
“YOU!” the redhead yelled, her voice taking on a demonic double-timbre as she raised her trusty frying pan high over her head, her eyes blazing like twin stars. “THIS IS INDEED YOUR FAULT!”
“No no, please—” Zelda’s muffled voice came from below the ground.
CLONG!
“YIIIIEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHH!” she squealed as the pan smashed into her already tortured buttocks like the sky was falling.
“YOU TRIED TO FORCE ME INTO A ROLE THAT’D ONLY GIVE ME MORE WORK THAN I ALREADY HAVE!” Mama roared.
WHAP! WHAP!
“EEEEEEK!” Zelda cried as a spatula hit her once on each cheek like a flyswatter.
“YOU DESTROYED MY BELOVED KITCHEN!!”
SHNNNKK-SHNNNKK!!
“EEEIIIIYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUCH!!” Zelda wailed, feeling a pair of barbecue forks savagely skewer her derriere, each one puncturing the exact center of each lower cheek.
“YOU CHALLENGED ME TO BATTLE AND WASTED TIME FOR WHICH I COULD’VE BEEN USEFUL!”
SHLLLMP!!
“NNEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!” Zelda shrieked, struggling uselessly against the sensation (which was, unbelievably, familiar to her by now) of an entire bottle of chili sauce once again being emptied into a place best left undescribed.
“AND YOU HAVE THE GALL,” Mama yelled as she withdrew the forks and bottle while preparing to grab a ladle and a large wooden spoon, “TO PIN THE BLAME FOR ALL OF THIS ON ME?!?”
“NO, PLEASE! I’M SORRY! PLEASE DON’T — AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!” Zelda yelled, suddenly feeling the WHACK-WHACK-WHACK-WHACK of the ladle and spoon banging on her buttocks like a pair of drumsticks performing a wild solo.
Since the match didn’t have a time limit, this meant Mama could keep at this as long as she wanted, and that was exactly what she did. Zelda’s torment went on for over twenty minutes as every single tool Mama had in her kitchen was put to use against her, several times over; her screams, sobs, and pleas for mercy went unheeded as her opponent unleashed nonstop fatal fury upon her defenseless posterior. The hapless Hylian’s KO percentage was well over 300% by now, but Mama didn’t care about sending her to the blast zone anymore. She wanted to make sure this lesson stuck.
The redhead’s entire body was aglow with multicolored light, the fire in her eyes now white like the sun itself — she’d glowed, stopped glowing, and started glowing again repeatedly throughout her entire session tormenting the spoiled princess. But she was running out of steam now, and it was time to finish this. Standing up and getting off her victim’s legs, she took a few steps back in preparation to break out her Final Smash…
Zelda was feeling light-headed by now, weeping uncontrollably and bemoaning her ruined buttocks. It was likely she wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably for the next month, maybe longer. But her relief was short-lived when she felt a pull against her entire body…
Mama’s Final Smash, fittingly for a chef such as her, was called Bon Appétit! In a move functionally identical to Kirby’s Final Smash two tournament cycles ago, she’d produced a metal stock pot that came up to her shoulders and slammed it onto an equally massive running hot plate, using a wooden stool to reach the top so she could mix ingredients together with a ladle longer than she was tall. The suction was drawing everything that wasn’t tied down or named Cooking Mama into the pot — the shopping cart full of food, the last few bits of debris from the collapsed roof, the remains of the dishes that had crashed into the princess earlier, everything — and Zelda’s clothing was being pulled away from her like the pot was a giant vacuum cleaner! The terrified Hylian struggled to stay rooted to the ground, but it was all in vain: in the space of just a few seconds, she was pulled out of the ground like an oversized carrot, lifted into the air, and sucked into a massive funnel cloud now coming out of the pot. Her boots and the last vestiges of her clothing were ripped away from her, but unbelievably, that was the least of her concerns — for the tornado was leading straight into the merrily boiling stew inside the pot!
“NO! PLEASE, NO! NOOOOO!! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!” Zelda screamed in complete and absolute terror, blindly scrabbling about in a bid to grab at something, anything, that could keep her from being dragged inexorably to her steaming doom. But there was nothing that could help her. With a final echoing wail, the princess was sucked into the pot as Mama withdrew her spoon and slammed the lid shut over the pot. Dropping down from her stool, the fire no longer in her eyes, she posed cutely with a cheerful “Wow~!”
In that same instant, the lid on the pot blew off from the steam pressure inside with a tremendous KABLAMMMM! Out of the pot flew a whole smorgasbord of foodstuffs traveling in all directions… along with one now completely naked, red-skinned, super-sore princess of Hyrule, who shot straight up into the sky with enough force to shatter the roof of the Great Plateau Tower to a thousand pieces. In a final twist of poetic justice, Mama’s Final Smash had one important difference from Cook Kirby: a trait which, ironically, was the same as Zelda’s own Final Smash. That is to say, if anyone who was dragged into the pot was at a KO percentage of over 100%, they’d suffer an instant KO.
Which, of course, meant that Zelda was the loser of this match. A complete and total loser, courtesy of her mistake of pushing Mama to her absolute limit — and beyond. Sailing off into the horizon, the teary-eyed princess could only cradle her steaming, red and purple buttocks with both hands, her blood-curdling scream of pure agony echoing across the skies of Hyrule:
“YYYIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!”
Ping!
GAME!
COOKING MAMA WINS!
“Great!” the red-headed chef cheered as she skipped in place, her anger forgotten, purposely ignoring the fact that Zelda was nowhere to be seen. “You gave it your best effort!”
As for the princess, of course, her flight of agony would go on to take her down into the volcano in Death Mountain, and all the molten lava waiting within; it would be another fifteen minutes of screaming and bouncing around on the magma before the Gorons found, rescued, and returned her. And there went an entire evening she could’ve spent outside of the mansion’s infirmary, had she been more sensible. She might have faced worse in her lifetime, but it was exactly as the horror stories of most of the mansion’s villains had spoken: the full force of Mama’s wrath truly was terrible to behold once it was directed at her.
The risk the princess had taken was calculated, but boy, was she bad at math.
**********
The following day…
It was perhaps fortunate that the Toads who worked tirelessly to keep the mansion repaired were able to get the kitchen back to pristine, working condition by the time the breakfast shift had rolled around. Mama didn’t like being away from her work, and it would’ve been unthinkable to spend a full day unable to cook for anyone at all. She was thankful that she’d won yesterday’s match, though in fairness, she’d gotten off lucky — had it not been for the collapsing roof, Zelda might’ve been able to pick up just enough steam to even the odds against her.
Still… She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for what she’d done. The Hands had taken her aside the previous evening, telling her that her actions, while not unjustified, might’ve gone a little too far for their liking. Their verdict was something she didn’t really mind, though she hoped Zelda would take it better than when she’d first told her she didn’t want to participate in the tournament in the first place.
It was close to eleven in the morning when Mama finally finished putting away the equipment she’d used to make all the breakfast specials for everyone in the mansion — except for one fighter she hadn’t seen all morning. Just as she was about to get ready for the coming lunch rush, however, the announcer’s voice boomed overhead:
COOKING MAMA, PLEASE SEE FIGHTER NUMBER 17 IN THEIR QUARTERS IMMEDIATELY!
“Fighter Number 17? But that’s… Ohhhhh, dear.” Mama shuddered in horror, realizing now that she had quite a bit to answer for. But there was no way to avoid what was to come, so she set aside her cooking tools and left the kitchen in search of the fighter in question.
When she reached Zelda’s room, she knocked on the door as gently as she could. “Hello?”
“C-come in,” came a quiet, cracked voice, a little higher-pitched than usual for the once-proud princess. “I-I unlocked the door… r-right a-after I called for you…”
Mama opened the door and slipped in, finding Zelda seated upon a massive bucket of ice on the floor with her back to the entrance. Her clothing had been completely repaired once again (though the seat of her robe had a noticeable wet patch thanks to the ice-melt), and she guessed that her panties and bra were also good as new underneath, but she decided not to ask if that latter detail was correct.
“Princess Zelda… I…” she began, but when Zelda turned to look at her, she gasped in shock.
The princess’ expression was one of absolute misery, her upper cheeks a vivid red and tears still dribbling down from her wide, blue-green eyes. She was holding a used tissue, and judging from the fact that, now that Mama noticed it, there were several empty tissue boxes scattered around her, the Hylian girl had been crying for a very long while now.
“Look… If this is about yesterday, I apologize for my conduct,” Mama said as she shut the door behind her and moved around to kneel in front of Zelda. “I understand completely if you don’t want to be friends with me anym—”
“I’M SORRYYYYYY!” Zelda yelled suddenly, throwing herself at the startled cook and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. She cringed and sobbed from the flare-up of pain in her backside, but that wasn’t her biggest concern. “I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SOOOO SORRY…!”
“Shhhh, it’s okay…” Mama whispered, gently hugging her back while taking care not to move her hands anywhere close to the princess’ backside. “It’s going to be alright—”
“PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEEEEEASE FORGIVE ME! I’M SORRY, I’M SO SORRY, I CAN’T APOLOGIZE ENOUGH, I’M SORRYYYYY…!”
Mama couldn’t help but feel sorry for Zelda herself, but remained silent for the next half-hour as the Hylian kept apologizing profusely. Her statements of remorse gradually faded into uncontrollable bawling, which lasted for another five minutes before her sounds of sorrow finally stopped.
“Like I said, it’s completely okay,” Mama said finally as they disengaged and Zelda sat back down on the ice bucket, the other woman offering a fresh tissue. “What happened to you, anyway?”
Zelda gratefully took the tissue and blew her nose quite loudly and with less dignity than one would expect from a member of royalty. “I… I was with the Hands and the rest of the fighters from my universe this morning. I can’t tell you all the details, but… They were mad. The Hands were mad, the Links were mad, Ganondorf was mad, the previous Zeldas were mad…”
“Previous Zeldas?” Mama asked, confused.
“This is technically my first tournament,” the Zelda that knew of Lorule clarified. “There were several other Zeldas who fought in my stead during the previous ones, and they’ve stayed as volunteers at the mansion since then. And they…” She sniffled. “You have no idea how badly they reacted to hearing of the way I treated you yesterday. You were right… The entire mess was my fault. I’d tried to force you into something you didn’t want to do, that you didn’t feel safe doing… and when I barged in on your work to insist on it, I only made everything worse!”
Zelda wiped the tears from her eyes as she regarded the older woman. She’d feared that their relationship was now broken beyond repair, but to her relief, Mama’s expression was nothing but sympathetic.
“Was… was your being called out on what you did by the others the reason why I didn’t see you at breakfast this morning?” asked the redhead.
Zelda nodded, before sniffling again. “I was released from the medical ward at seven AM today, and got sent straight to the Hands’ office as soon as I was out the door. I spent the next half an hour being yelled at by both Hands, and then everyone else from my world who’d ever been a part of the tournament also arrived at the office to yell at me some more. And then Link — the current Link, I mean, the one with the blue tunic — set up a pillory for me to be put in with my dress up and my massive-ass hitbox facing the rest of the bunch. They all lined up with everything they had, and… well, I’m sure you can figure out the rest,” she finished with a horrified stare at nothing in particular.
Mama could only pat her on the shoulder with all the gentleness a loving parent could have. “I certainly can. I’m sorry to hear of it.”
“Well, the Wild and Twilight Links and the Twilight Zelda did forgive me when I broke down at the hour mark and cried for mercy from everyone involved like the big baby I really was for most of yesterday,” Zelda said while looking down at her lap, her shoulders slumped. “They could tell my regret over how horrible I was to you, and everyone you’ve been serving by extension, was a hundred percent sincere. But I don’t think I’ll be on speaking terms with the rest of the fighters from my world for a good, long while.” She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose once more. “I would’ve been suffering at the office all day had I not been offered clemency after an hour and a half of… well, what they all put me through. After I was finally allowed back out of the office, I went to get treatment at the infirmary again and then bought myself a nice big ice bucket, but I’ve been here in my room feeling sorry for myself since then.”
Mama frowned thoughtfully. “I see. So, why did you call me here instead of visiting the cafeteria?”
“Well, I’m banned for life from the kitchen, for starters. And the Hands decided I shouldn’t be allowed in the cafeteria at all for the rest of this month, so I’ll have to have my meals delivered to my room until that penalty period is over. Besides, we both know I can’t cook to save my life, anyway,” Zelda added with a rueful chuckle, before sighing morosely. “But aside from that, I just didn’t want to show my face around the rest of the fighters because I worried they too would be upset with me over my stupid actions. Perhaps they really are, I’m not sure. But I just didn’t want it to be rubbed in any more than it already was… after a fashion.” She glanced down at her aching rump, her expression once again slightly traumatized.
Mama had just taken a seat on the floor to hear the princess out. She remained there for the moment, but after a pause, she reached out with one hand to pat the blonde girl’s knee. “I can’t speak for anyone else here in this mansion, but I can say this right now: If there’s one wise thing you did today, it’s admitting you were wrong. And for what it’s worth, I’m relieved that you were willing to do so. That’s more than I can say for so many people here in this mansion, and it’s why I’m not mad at you myself. Well, not anymore, anyway. No one is perfect, after all, and I’m no exception — seeing as I let my repressed anger issues get the better of me yesterday.”
The Hylian shuddered at the memory. “So I noticed…”
“I did want to find you so I could apologize for that myself, in fact. So from the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry, too. Like I said, if you don’t want us to be friends after this, I won’t contest it.”
Zelda let out a laugh in spite of herself. “Are you kidding me?! I’m the one who should be apologizing to you! It was the least I could do to have you called over to my room — during one of your break periods, for obvious reasons — so I could tell you how awful I felt about that whole ugly mess, in every sense of the phrase.” Her face fell as she continued, her eyes turning moist again. “So as I’ve said countless times since this morning, I’m absolutely sorry for everything I said and did to you yesterday — and for the goddess’ sake, I’m even taking back what I said about not wanting to eat your cooking anymore! I certainly would’ve started missing it within mere days had I been serious about that, anyway,” she added with another chortle.
Mama smiled warmly, offering yet another tissue for Zelda to dry her face again. “Apology accepted. As long as you’re willing to accept mine, too, at any rate.”
“Done. Though I’m guessing that after yesterday’s fiasco, asking you about joining the tournament is no longer on the table.”
Mama burst out laughing for a moment before recomposing herself. “You’re completely correct, actually! I’ve been banned from participating until further notice, as per the Hands’ decree. It was clear the fault was mainly with you, but the extremes I went to in retaliation couldn’t go entirely unaddressed, either. They told me I’m still welcome to have the ban revoked in the future if a suitable appeal can be made, but what matters most is how I feel, and to be honest, I’ve decided to concede to that judgment gracefully for now. I just don’t feel comfortable out there on the battlefield at this time, whether or not I’m capable of fighting alongside you and the rest.”
Zelda snickered a bit. “You certainly were more capable than me yesterday.”
“Regardless, even if I’m more confident now in my ability to lend my aid to the rest of you in the event of an emergency, I’m still happiest in the kitchen,” Mama said with a hint of regret in her voice. “Not even the worst multiversal threat can change that. All the same, though, as long as you respect my wishes and take the lessons from this experience to heart, you’ll have a friend for life in me, tournament eligibility or otherwise.”
Zelda wiped a tear of joyous relief from her cheek. Mama certainly lived up to her (nick)name, and now that the princess had gotten to know her more, she couldn’t help but see in her the caring parent she’d never had until now. “I… I want to hug you, but… I don’t think I should get off this bucket—”
Mama lifted herself onto her knees to embrace her within about a second, and Zelda couldn’t help but hug back.
“I promise you, Princess: every meal I make for you, at least until you’re allowed back in the cafeteria again, I’ll deliver to your room myself,” Mama said after they disengaged. “If that’s what it takes to make up for the utter thrashing I gave you, then so be it.”
“Well, you don’t really have to do that for me, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it!” Zelda beamed in response.
“Then in that case, expect to be offered a sandwich or two within the next few hours,” Mama replied kindly as she stood up. “I do need to return to work now, but if you want to talk to me again outside of my shifts, just call on me. As long as it’s not about the tournament, of course, but that’s a given.”
Zelda couldn’t help but laugh at that one. Leave it to the mansion’s cook to help her feel much, much better. “It’s a deal! And good luck with the lunch and dinner rushes today, Mama!”
“Oh, speaking of dinner,” Mama said as she prepared to exit the room, “is there anything specific you’d like for that? If not, the cafeteria will be serving beef rump roast tonight, so…”
The princess let out a brief squeal of utmost horror, cringing at the magic words.
Mama’s smile vanished in an instant when she saw the look on the Hylian’s face. “Oh… Too soon?”
Zelda couldn’t help but give an awkward laugh, though she would swear Mama had already noticed her discreetly rubbing the seat of her dress. “My compliments to the chef, but for tonight, I think I’ll stick with just a salad.”
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