First, a show of devotion to the goddesses

As decorum required, Zelda kept every step measured as she walked through a small path in the crowd, never rushing, and never, ever looking down to see the way her perfectly proportioned breasts jiggled and shook with each of her regal steps. Her gaze remained steady on her goal, forward facing and looking towards the steps of the dais she was heading towards. She certainly never looked back to see the way her muscles caused her soft skin to shift and move in enticing patterns along her bare calves and thighs and flanks, or the way her tight ass cheeks moved rhythmically with each uniform step.

She didn't really need to look at her body to know all of that was happening when she could so easily build a picture about it second-hand. Her pointed ears, as sharp as any other Hylian's, could hear enough positive murmurs from the surrounding crowd to know that her body was being seen and appreciated by most of everyone there. In any other situation – at a ball or formal dinner, for example - positive comments about her appearance would have probably uplifted her spirits and made her smile. But then again, on any other day those positive comments about her appearance wouldn't have included the grandmotherly Hylian in front of her nodding and muttering approvingly over the perkiness of her 'fullsome breasts', or one of the Gerudo she'd just passed exclaiming in their distinctive accent that you could 'bounce a rupee off of her ass'.

It seemed almost surreal that these were the same people who would likely bow and defer to her with respect once the coronation was over and she was finally fully clothed once more. But then again, perhaps it wasn't so surprising.

Unspoken Rule Number Three of a Hylian Coronation, as she called it, was 'never, ever show any doubt in the tradition'. With enough blank-faced seriousness projected into it, tradition allowed for acts to happen on one day that on any other day would see you derided or arrested or worse. When a tradition was treated with the proper level of ceremony, it could make the ridiculous seem reverential, the profane pass as profound, and the perverse appear to be pure.

You wouldn't normally walk around naked in front of a crowd of people when you were their ruler... unless it was coronation day. You certainly wouldn't make appraising comments about a ruler's anatomy while you were in full ear shot of that ruler and the royal guards... unless it was coronation day. And you would never, ever, ever do what she was about to do on that dais... unless it was coronation day. As for what she'd be doing later on when she sat down... well, on any other day she'd probably be exiled or thrown into a nunnery if she tried it. But on coronation day? Not only was it fine, but it was fully expected and people grew disappointed if you and they couldn't play their parts in it.

Zelda had always been told that this ceremony was so popular because it allowed the common-folk of the realm to be close to their ruler in a way that they could not do on any other day. One of her tutors had even compared it to a shepherd walking into their local bar and suddenly finding themselves sharing a beer and singing tavern songs with their king. In both situations, she'd been told, the commoners got to see their leader as something other than a distant aloof figure waving from a castle balcony. They could see a side of their soon-to-be queen that they would normally never see, and feel that a bond was formed from the event.

Zelda tried to ignore that little voice in her head that pointed out that the surrounding crowd was certainly getting to see all of her sides, and in quite uncensored detail. For some of the people here, maybe what she'd been told by that tutor was true – maybe it was a chance for them to feel a connection with her. Personally, Zelda was sure that more than a few were just here for the chance to see some royal tits and ass.

Her legs flexed as she climbed up the dais, her body rising up far enough for the people at the back of the mob to see all that she had exposed. Once she reached the top she paused in the center of the platform, waiting a few moments to let the crowd's din settle down, before she continued the ceremony.

“People of Hyrule and honoured guests from beyond our lands! I welcome you all to the day of my coronation!” As she began her speech, her feet started to move in short, small steps as she slowly turned through a full three-hundred-and-sixty degree revolution, so that everyone present could completely confirm that she wasn't hiding her exposed body from anyone there.

“I stand before you all on this day, unashamed, like my ancestors before me,” Zelda lied, feeling quite ashamed at the stares her slightly rising and falling breasts garnered as she projected her voice so that it could be heard by all.

“Like the previous queens who once stood here as I do now, I come before you with my heart bared, to pledge my commitment to embodying the three virtues of the Triforce, so that I may be a symbol for my nation. I swear to be courageous, to not hide away from anything that would cause others to shy away. To be powerful even when at my most ****. And wise enough to always seek the right path, even when I have nothing on me besides my wits to help me find the way.”

The crowd, which had managed to reign their noise in so far, erupted into cheers. Zelda smiled at the interruption. Even though their cheers meant that she'd be standing here exposed to hundreds of eyes for that much longer, it did also mean she could delay the next part of the ceremony for a few more precious seconds.

Finally, after the seconds seemed to stretch on forever, the mob started to quieten down enough for her to speak again. In the near-silence, a faint clicking noise sounded, but Zelda ignored the background noise as four burly guards walked up behind her. Three of the large men were each carrying a stone effigy of one of the three goddesses, which they reverently placed in an uniform row at the edge of the dais. The fourth carefully placed a folded piece of cloth in front of the statues, near the edge of the dais. Once that was done all four ceremoniously bowed to her, and then to the statues, before walking back down the stairs.

For the brief moment she was afforded during that setup, Zelda contemplated the pros and cons of fleeing Hyrule and becoming a mercenary in a distant land. She could wear her old Sheik outfit, the good old costume that covered her from head to toe and left little more than a sliver of her skin visible to other peoples' eyes. She missed that outfit so very much right now.

Unfortunately she didn't have the time to indulge in such a fantasy for more than a few moments. One of the earliest lessons of royalty that she'd been taught was that you could never show doubt when eyes were upon you. And all eyes were upon her, even if most of them were focused on bits of her besides the expressions on her face.

Zelda raised her arms to the crowd as she played her role, reciting the words expected of her and doing her utmost to not shiver at what she was about to do. “As your queen, I shall stand strong. I shall kneel to none. I shall bow to none. I shall debase myself before none. None, except for the goddesses themselves.”

The crowd cheered again as she turned away from them. She did her best to ignore the way they were already shuffling and bunching up as they did their best to all move behind her and get the best view.

Zelda pulled deep on her Sheikah training, the same training that had allowed her to never flinch or react when she was disguised as a boy and someone said her real name. Those skills in remaining calm under pressure had saved her from discovery by Ganondorf's forces more than once, and they saved her now from cringing in utter embarrassment at what she was about to do.

With no outward sign of her mortification, besides a small blush dusting her face, Zelda knelt on the cloth that the guard had left behind, her feet almost hanging off the dais as they pointed to the gathering crowd behind.

In a normal ceremony, such a position would have been sufficient. She would have been able to place her hands together while kneeling there, and give a short prayer.

This was not a normal ceremony, though. This was her coronation. Once she was in position, kneeling with her thighs parted by several inches and her big toes barely touching each other, she bowed down.

Zelda's exposed ass lifted into the air even as her elbows and chin settled onto the ground, the unwieldy position ensuring that her breasts also pressed against the floor. Finally, her hands clapped together in front of her face as she completed the prayer position that this ceremony expected of her. She'd heard a few words used for this prostrated position – dogeza, kowtow. In Hylia, it was known as the princess's devotion. Zelda had her own private name for it, now that she'd adopted the pose in public for the first time: horrifyingly shameful.

With her thighs parted and her ass cheeks resting on the balls of her feet, there was nothing hiding her most private places for the crowd's view. Her pussy was completely exposed to the people behind her. And based on all of the shuffling and scuffling of moving people that she could hear, that was currently a lot of people.

Every one of the people behind her, many of them subjects that she'd have to look in the face for decades to come, could see her ass. They could see her slit. They could probably see at least a hint of the pink of her inner labia peeking through, thanks to her feet helping to keep her buttocks slightly parted. If things were as bad as she feared (and considering that she'd accurately predicted that Ganondorf would steal the Triforce of Power, she wasn't going to bet against herself), they could even see the starfish of her royal anus.

The only thing saving her from this situation was the crowd's silence. Even the most gauche of attendants wouldn't interrupt a sacred prayer to the goddesses, after all.

They had no way of knowing, of course, that the only prayer Zelda was capable of right now was 'please be over, please be over, please be over'.

In her head, the princess counted down the seconds until the customary minute of divine obsequience was complete. Even as she counted she silently cursed whichever ancestor had been so devoutly religious that they thought that this **** method of praying was the best way to show a princess's devotion to the divine. Logically she could acknowledge that it acted as an obvious visual counterpoint to her oaths of standing strong against any living invaders – by showing that she debased herself only to the goddesses and not to anyone residing on the planet itself, it helped reinforce her commitment to keeping her people free. She understood that. She just didn't care, considering that it was her ass hole that was currently being memorised by a good chunk of her people.

And what _was _that clicking sound that she kept hearing whenever the crowd quietened down!?

Pushing her negative thoughts out of her head, Zelda reached the one minute count in her mind. With the same kind of **** that a man about to cut off his own hand might show, she slowly counted through five more seconds, in case she'd counted too fast, to ensure that she really had reached the religiously required minute of prayer, before she rose back to her knees, and then stood back up again.

The moment she stood, the crowd erupted into cheers, probably unable to help themselves from making noise again now that they didn't feel pressured into remaining silent during her supposedly devout praying.

In the privacy of her mind, Zelda just couldn't dismiss the crazy feeling that they were cheering on how well she'd cleaned her pink slit and anus for the ceremony.