Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"King Daphnes! Gerudo warriors have been detected advancing across Hyrule Field towards the castle!" The breathless captain of the guard informs the room's occupants as he clatters into the king's private dining room.

The king of Hyrule sets down his utensils, dread washing over him as his head swivels across to his daughter, Princess Zelda, seated beside him at their dining table for breakfast. Despite her no longer being a child, he can't help but note the innocence and fear in her eyes. He had always hoped that his daughter would share in the relative peace he had experienced during his own reign; it seems that was all too quickly about to change.

For almost a century, there had been an unofficial pact between the two kingdoms, he reflects. There have been small skirmishes and raids at the border by the Gerudo, but since the long-lasting drought for the past few seasons, their raids seemed to have ceased in an effort to conserve their limited resources... or so he thought.

The king sighs deeply before inquiring, "How many warriors have been spotted, Captain Linebeck?"

"Fifty, my Lord." Linebeck replies.

The king frowns slightly as he ponders the information. With their exceptional combat abilities, unity, and unwavering determination, the Gerudo are indeed formidable warriors, regardless of the fact that they are all women. But one troop would not be enough to lay siege to the castle. Either they have become desperate or arrogant.

Zelda watches him, a worried expression strewn across her face. He rises from the table, his daughter following suit. He addresses his Captain once more. "Send forth an emissary and prepare our ranks to meet them."

Linebeck nods his understanding, "The Gerudo have already sent forth their own emissary, the king of the Gerudo seeks your audience, my Lord."

"The king of thieves has never been seen this far north of the desert's border," Zelda relays, panic evident in her voice.

"We must proceed cautiously; the rumours that he possesses dark magic have so far remained unconfirmed," the king cautions. Linebeck nods once more before speeding off to relay the king's orders.

It is late morning when the Hylian forces meet the outnumbered Gerudo warriors on the field. The Gerudo are ushered between the Hylian army as they approach the city. A small squad is allowed entry into Hyrule Castle with their king, while the rest of the troop waits outside the city gates under the careful watch of the Hylian army.

King Daphnes takes his position in his grand throne room, Zelda and his advisor Talon on either side. Their hushed whispers fill the air as the ever-vigilant Royal guards take up their positions in the chamber. As the throne room doors open to admit the Gerudo, a palpable shift occurs in the atmosphere.

The room, once filled with a sense of anticipation and nervous energy, now takes on a weighty and charged ambiance. The king of the Gerudo’s imposing figure commands attention as he steps into the room, flanked by his loyal Gerudo warriors. His regal presence seems to fill every corner, and the air becomes thick with a mix of apprehension and intrigue. The soft echo of his footsteps reverberates, punctuating the silence, as he moves with purpose towards the throne.

The soldiers lining the room stand taller, their gazes fixated on the infamous king, ready to act at a moment's notice. The tension in their posture is palpable, reflecting the gravity of the situation. Even the stoic figure of Zelda's royal guard, Link, appears subtly on edge, his unwavering dedication now tinged with an underlying vigilance as he eyes the man before him.

King Daphnes, seated on his throne, maintains an outward composure, yet his tapping fingers betray a hint of unease. His eyes lock onto the imposing man, observing the Gerudo king with a mix of caution and respect as he strides forward with unyielding purpose, each step resonating with the power and formidability forged by the unforgiving desert of his homeland. His bronzed skin, a testament to his endurance and strength, seems almost chiselled by the harsh environment. Framed by his flaming, majestic red hair, his golden eyes, sharp and calculating, remain fixed upon king Daphnes as he approaches the throne.

With a sense of respect, he bows his head and gracefully kneels before the monarch. Even while kneeling, his large stature intersects the height of the standing Hylian soldiers.

His gaze is held courteously low as he addresses the king of Hyrule. "Thank you, King Daphnes of Hyrule, for accepting my request on such short notice. I, King Ganondorf of the Gerudo, come before you today seeking a resolution to the current situation that has brought a fraction of the Gerudo army to your kingdom. It is not our intention to wage war or cause harm to your people. Rather, it is the plight of my own people, the Gerudo, that has led us here."

King Daphnes takes a double take of the man knelt before him. The man’s pronunciations are absolutely flawless, not a hint of an accent whatsoever. He ponders in surprise before nodding the remarkable linguist to continue.

"As you are aware, the prolonged drought has affected all of our lands," Ganondorf continues, "The Gerudo, too, have suffered greatly during this time. The Anouki of the north have halted their supply of ice to our stores. The Zora have tightened the flow of water from their dams, reducing our once-thriving rivers to mere patches of mud. Our resources have become scarce, and now the well-being of my people hangs in the balance. It is out of desperation and a desire to secure the future of my people that I kneel before you today. I humbly ask that you provide aid to my people. In return, I offer my loyalty and the loyalty of the Gerudo people to the kingdom of Hyrule."

King Daphnes and Zelda exchange glances, their suspicion giving way to cautious consideration. The weight of Ganondorf's words hangs in the air as the Daphnes contemplates the potential consequences of such an alliance before replying.

"The Gerudo have pledged their allegiance to the past kings of Hyrule on numerous occasions. The last treaty was sworn by a man who bore your name. A man whose true intentions were to seize power over all six kingdoms. If not for the foresight of a young boy carrying the Triforce of courage, his sinister plan would have succeeded.

Merely a few years ago, I also extended to you an offer to embrace an alliance under my rule. However, you chose to seal the known entrances through the canyons, isolating yourself within the deserts. Instead of seeking cooperation, you constructed secret passages to continue raiding and pillaging my lands. So, King of Thieves, with your society now teetering on the brink of collapse, why should I deprive my loyal subjects to aid your people when they have systematically broken each and every treaty?"

Ganondorf lifts his gaze, meeting the king's eyes with a steady and unwavering stare, taking the derogatory title hurled his way upon his chin. A flicker of determination dances in his eyes as he begins to respond to the inquiry.

“King Daphnes, I now recognize the folly of my youthful pride and stubbornness, traits I believe have waned with age and experience. This is not an excuse, but a sincere acknowledgment of my past actions for I comprehend the weight of history and the consequences of our deeds. Just as my predecessors' deeds do not define who I am or the path I choose to follow.

However, If I may speak candidly, the treaty you once offered, particularly in the face of overwhelming odds, seemed more like a plea for surrender and submission to your imperial rule. Such terms would have stripped my people of autonomy and control over our destinies. Given the opportunity today, I would like to propose an alliance that could mutually benefit our kingdoms without the complete loss of our independence. I stand before you as a representative of my people, earnestly seeking a new path—a path of unity and prosperity.”

He pauses for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "The Gerudo have long been viewed as outsiders. But we are not so different from the people of Hyrule. We yearn for stability, for the well-being of our families and our future generations. However," Ganondorf's voice quivers with emotion, "I cannot turn a blind eye to the painful truth that plagues my own tribes. The unrelenting drought, the strain on our precious oases, and the scarcity of resources have ignited divisions among our people. Our very essence of who we are is slipping through our fingers, like grains of sand lost in the scorching desert winds."

Ganondorf's eyes meet King Daphnes' with a mixture of vulnerability and resilience, his voice steadying with an unwavering resolve. "But it is precisely because of this burden, this agonizing struggle within my own people, that I kneel before you today, King Daphnes. It is a plea, a cry for help, for an alliance that can offer solace in the face of our shared hardships. Your decision today will shape the future of our kingdoms. We can choose to remain divided and let the drought and its consequences tear us apart, or we can find common ground, extend a hand of aid, and forge a bond that will withstand the tests of time. The choice, King Daphnes, is yours to make."

His words hang in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable. The room falls silent, the gravity of Ganondorf's confession permeating the atmosphere.

King Daphnes leans back in his throne, his gaze shifting between Ganondorf and Zelda. After a moment of contemplation, the king responds with measured caution. "King Ganondorf, your words carry weight, and I appreciate your acknowledgment of past transgressions. However, trust is not easily won, and an alliance of this magnitude requires careful consideration. I will take your proposal into account and consult with my advisors before making a decision that will impact the fate of our kingdoms. Rest assured, your request will be given the attention it deserves."

With these words, he rises from his throne, a solemn nod acknowledging Ganondorf as he also comes to his feet. Zelda and Talon follow Daphnes into the anteroom behind the throne to privately discuss the proposal. As the heavy doors close behind them, the atmosphere in the throne room remains charged with anticipation, leaving Ganondorf alone with his thoughts, surrounded by the watchful eyes of the Hylian soldiers and the weight of his people's fate hanging in the balance.

Chapter Text

Minutes turn into what feels like an eternity as the throne room remains deafeningly quiet. Ganondorf, aware of the delicate nature of the situation, maintains his patience. His eyes scan the grandeur of the throne room, taking in its intricate details and rich history.

Finally, the doors to the anteroom swing open, and King Daphnes steps forward, his expression thoughtful and contemplative. Zelda and Talon flank him, their faces a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

"King Ganondorf," King Daphnes begins, his voice measured yet filled with a glimmer of newfound hope, "After careful consideration and consultation with my advisors, we have reached a decision."

Ganondorf's eyes remain fixed on the monarch before him.

"We understand the plight of your people and the challenges you face during this drought. We recognize that unity in these troubled times is crucial, not only for our kingdoms but for the well-being of our people as well."

A flicker of relief crosses Ganondorf's face, his gaze unwavering.

"Therefore, I have decided to accept your proposal, King Ganondorf. We cannot ignore the pain you and your people endure, nor can I turn a blind eye to the opportunity for unity and healing that lies before us. We shall extend aid to the Gerudo people, as we would to any of the kingdoms under our protection. Together, we shall forge a bond that transcends the mistakes of the past and leads us toward a future of cooperation and shared prosperity. I ask that you don’t disregard the aid I will provide to your people in their time of vulnerability, and that unlike the rulers before you, you and your people continue to honour the alliance in all of your generations to come.”

A mixture of gratitude and satisfaction fills Ganondorf's expression as he bows his head deeply in respect.

"King Daphnes, I cannot express my gratitude enough for your decision. The Gerudo people and I are honoured to accept your aid and forge this alliance. I assure you that our commitment to unity and cooperation shall be unwavering.”

Ganondorf meets the king's gaze once more. “It would be misleading of me, however, to promise that the future generations of my people honour the pact. Like those that came before me, I have no control over those that come after. However..." He pauses briefly, "if our kingdoms were to truly unite, perhaps... through the joining of families, "he innocently suggests before continuing, "then we could forge a future where Hyrulean and Gerudo would finally be one.”

Ganondorf's words hang in the air, and the room falls into a moment of silence as the weight of his proposition settles upon them. Zelda herself is taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, her eyes widening with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Subtly, they trace over her protector, Link, standing guard with indifference at the bottom of the raised steps leading up to the throne.

King Daphnes maintains a thoughtful expression, his gaze shifting from Ganondorf to Zelda. "It is true that we cannot control the actions of future generations. However, the legacy we leave behind and the values we instil in our people can shape the path they choose to follow. My Daughter Zelda is my only heir, to promise her to you would mean instilling the future of Hyrule into your hands.”

Ganondorf bows his head, acknowledging the king's concern and the weight of his words. With a tone of respect and understanding, he responds, "King Daphnes, I implore you to see my suggestion not as a demand or request, but rather as a sincere proposal for forging lasting peace. My people and I are deeply grateful for the acceptance of our alliance under your reign. However, to achieve enduring harmony between our kingdoms for generations to come, I can envision no greater way to ensure its success."

Ganondorf's gaze then turns to Zelda, his voice softened with genuine empathy. "Princess Zelda, I offer no expectations or demands. The decision to unite our families should be a choice made freely by you, and you alone. Your heart and your future are yours to decide.”

The king's gaze shifts towards Zelda. “My dear Daughter, I will leave this choice to you. You must decide whether this alliance, this union, is something you are willing to embrace.”

Zelda hesitates briefly as she grapples with the unexpected future presented before her—an unforeseen decision demanding immediate consideration. Her eyes, as if seeking refuge in the vastness of the room, flicker around, conscious of the collective gaze focused on her. One pair of eyes, however, remains deliberately low—Link's. Her gaze lingers on him, a silent attempt to glean his thoughts.

For a fleeting moment, their eyes meet, and in that brief exchange, she catches the subtlest hint of... apology? Was it merely a reflection of the gravity of the situation, or did it carry a nuance of something more?

In that moment, she realizes the significance of the decision she is about to make—a decision that transcends personal feelings and resonates with the destiny of two kingdoms.

Yet, in that dismally reflective moment, she acknowledges the stark reality: even if Link harboured feelings similar to hers, the intricacies of their roles in life would likely forever prevent such a unity.

She composes herself with a deep breath before declaring, her voice a beacon of determination and sacrifice. "We can both agree that the future of our people is of the utmost importance. If our union can bring peace between Hylians and Gerudo for generations to come, then it would be my honour to unify our kingdoms once and for all. May it serve as an enduring symbol of harmony and trust for all those who follow in our footsteps.”

Ganondorf's gaze lingers on Zelda, his expression a mix of gratitude and admiration. “Princess Zelda, your courage and dedication to the well-being of our kingdoms are commendable. I am privileged to stand beside you in this endeavour. Together, we shall forge a future where Hylians and Gerudo find unity and prosperity."

King Daphnes' eyes linger on Zelda before returning his focus to Ganondorf. "May this alliance be the beginning of a prosperous era for our kingdoms. Let it be a testament to the power of unity and a foundation upon which we build a future where our lands thrive together."

Zelda and her father emerge into the anteroom once more as Ganondorf and his followers are escorted to the great hall for refreshments before the continued negotiations. The king takes his daughter's hand. "You've made your decision wisely, Zelda. To put your kingdom above your own needs is truly selfless. You are truly a reflection of your mother."

Zelda absorbs the sincerity of her father’s words. “What else was mother like?” she questions, her father averts his gaze. “Father, please, you never speak of her. It has been twenty-two years since her passing.”

He pauses, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips as he reminisces. "She had a spirit that shone brightly, bringing warmth and joy to those around her. She had a deep connection with the land of Hyrule and its people, always seeking ways to protect and nurture them. She was a true queen in every sense of the word."

Zelda's eyes fill with a mixture of curiosity and sadness. "Why don't you speak of her often, Father? I long to know more about her, to understand who she was."

The king's gaze softens, his voice tinged with a touch of melancholy. "My dear, I seldom speak of your mother because the pain of her loss still weighs heavily upon my heart. Remembering her brings both joy and sorrow, and sometimes the ache of her absence is difficult to bear. But she lives on within you, Zelda. You carry her spirit, her strength, and her love for our people. It saddens me to think that you are bound to a path not of love and happiness, but one of duty and solitude.”

“Father, if this marriage can bring the slightest glimmer of lasting peace, then it is a sacrifice worth making.” Zelda remarks determinedly.

Her father grasps her hands tighter. “Zelda… there are parts of marriage… you should be aware of. Ganondorf… your husband… there will be… physical expectations of you… one of an intimate nature…”

“Father, please, stop. I know of my wifely duties,” Zelda implored, retracting her hands.

“You haven’t…” He begins.

“Father, of course not! My maiden informed me to prevent me from the embracement of you trying to explain it.”

“Ah… good." Her father remarks, stroking his grey beard before questioning, "I am curious, Zelda, you have had many fine suitors, why did you not accept any of their offers?"

“I guess..." Zelda breaks her gaze, "I never found the right one. One who I would truly love.”

Her father holds her in his sights, “Because… you already love someone else.”

“What! Of course not!" Zelda denies, turning the colour of crimson. "I just, I didn’t… feel a connection with any of them.”

Her father sighs. “Zelda, I have seen the way you smile whenever your Royal Guard, Link, is at your side, as have others in the castle.”

Zelda’s mouth hangs open. “I… he…” Zelda pauses, her lips fumbling for words as she takes in her father's sceptical expression. She sighs deeply before conceding. “He is a dear friend, father. He has been at my side since the day I was born. And I have tried, so hard, to fight these... feelings I have for him. Denied them, hidden them because I knew there could be no future in which we would be together.” Zelda confesses, anguish lacing her words.

“Love is complex and difficult; we cannot choose who our hearts are drawn to. But... you are right, there could be no future with him in it. I will reassign Impa as your permanent guard once more.”

“No father, please, don’t punish him. He will never know of my feelings. Just… let him carry out his duties until the day of my departure to the Gerudo fortress. Then Impa can take over his role once more.” Zelda pleads.

He pauses, his gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve. "Very well. I trust in his loyalty and commitment to your well-being, so he may retain his privilege until the day of your departure. However, I must ask you to tread carefully, Zelda.”

Zelda's eyes widen in surprise and gratitude, tears glistening in her eyes. "Father, thank you for understanding. I promise to keep my feelings hidden, for the sake of our kingdoms and the stability of our alliance."

They settle into the plush chairs in the anteroom for a short respite before deliberations of the finer details of the treaty, the weight of the impending alliance hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

“Father, I can’t help but to think about the future of Hyrule after your reign. This union, there are so many uncertainness, I fear the implications it may bring to our families continued sovereignty. It's a thought that unsettles me deeply.” Zelda's expression is a mix of curiosity and concern, her eyes searching for reassurance.

Daphnes leans forward from his sofa and places a comforting hand on Zelda's lap. “My dear, I understand your apprehension. However, I will ensure the treaty terms are carefully crafted to prevent Ganondorf from ruling over Hyrule. When the time comes, you will return to rule in my place. Hyrule will remain under Hylian leadership, and you will guide our kingdom's destiny. He will not ascend to the throne.”

Zelda sighs, a mix of relief and apprehension, “It's a heavy responsibility, Father. What if this alliance proves more challenging than we anticipate? What if Ganondorf's intentions are not as noble as he claims?”

“The thought has crossed my mind also, we will act with caution yet hospitality as we learn more about his character.” Her father reassures. “Ganondorf's intentions will be closely monitored, and we will navigate this alliance together. There will be a feast in honour of the treaty, you will get to know him, if you have single doubt about his intentions, we will delay your union and find another way to secure the alliance.” He gestures for her to lay her hand in his to which she complies, “I will not let allow you to marry a cruel man, Zelda.”

Zelda's eyes meet her father's, a mixture of gratitude and admiration shining within them. Overwhelmed by the reassurance and love offered, she rises from her chair and moves to embrace him. "Thank you, Father."

Their hug is a silent exchange of understanding, a shared commitment to navigate the complexities that lie ahead. The weight of impending responsibilities and uncertainties is momentarily eased, knowing they will face the challenges of the future united.

Chapter Text

Thoughts of Link seemed to haunt her as she slept, the story her father told her when she was ten—a tale of how her mother died—is also the story of how Link came to be in her life.

Her father and his knights had gone hunting. Upon returning home through the lost woods that late afternoon, they found a small child collapsed in the middle of the forest path. Initially mistaking him for a legendary Kokiri, a child of the woods, they realized he was just a Hylian boy, around three years old, as no fairy spirit appeared by his side.

The boy was brought back to the castle where her father learnt that his wife, Queen Hilda, had gone into labour. Zelda had arrived four weeks early, and her mother succumbed to infection a few days later, leaving her father without a wife and Zelda without a mother.

Link, orphaned and without anyone to claim him, found a new home as a ward within the castle. At the tender age of seven, he was requisitioned to become a page boy by Impa, her Sheikah guardian. Thus, began Link's integration into the castle life and, consequently, Zelda's childhood.

Growing up alongside Link, their shared classes in archery and sword fighting were more than mere educational pursuits; they became the crucible that forged a profound bond between them. The training grounds were where they laughed, learned, and faced challenges together. Childhood was a time of shared secrets, stolen moments of laughter, and countless adventures that bonded Zelda and Link as close friends.

Whether it was exploring the hidden corners of the castle or embarking on adventures in the surrounding landscapes, Link was a constant companion. His unwavering loyalty and quiet strength became a source of comfort for Zelda, who found solace in the presence of her closest friend.

In her adolescences, Zelda's diary entries often centred around Link, chronicling their adventures, shared laughter, and unspoken bond. She expressed admiration for his courage, loyalty, and the way he inspired her to be better. Every unspoken word, thought, and feeling filled the pages. Intertwined with Zelda's heartfelt musings were the secrets of the royal family, cleverly disguised in riddles and cryptic messages. Her diary became a repository of hidden knowledge, decipherable only by those with a keen intellect and an understanding of the royal bloodline.

As Zelda transitioned into womanhood, the weight of royal duties pressed upon her. She left behind childhood reflections and her close friendship with Link as they filled their expected roles. As their relationship matured and professionalized, she found herself unable to let go of her feelings for him. Witnessing his transformation from a quiet pageboy orphan to a courageous lieutenant of the royal guard, she often wondered if he shared her feelings. However, she knew he respected his position and was well aware of the laws, so would never dare express them if he did.

At least in her dreams, she could find solace in his embrace. Dreams that could never ascend to reality. Yet, they served as a sanctuary for the emotions she buried beneath the weight of her responsibilities, a place where the boundaries of duty faded, if only for a fleeting moment.

Chapter Text

After a day and a half of negotiating the finer details of the alliance, a feast is held in the great halls of Hyrule in honour of not only the alliance but the engagement of Ganondorf and Zelda. As a sign of goodwill, they sit side by side at the royal table as a display of unity.

Link stands guard behind them alongside Ganondorf’s captain, Nabooru. His eyes can’t help but wander to the towering Gerudo woman beside him, in sheer awe of her stature. He had never realized how tall the Gerudo truly were.

“Would you like a portrait, Voe?” Nabooru probes, holding him in her hard stare.

His gaze snaps back to Zelda and Ganondorf, who are in deep conversation in front of him. “Sorry… I’ve never… stood... side by side a Gerudo before. Your race is truly built for combat. I am glad you came seeking peace and not the alternative...” Link trails.

Nabooru eyes him suspiciously, analysing his sincerity before replying. “As am I.”

"Princess Zelda, it brings me great joy to have this precious moment to connect with you before our imminent union in marriage. I sincerely hope that you would accept this gift as a token of my appreciation," Ganondorf utters with a gentle tone, retrieving a radiant golden bangle from the depths of his crimson cloak's pocket. He extends it towards Zelda, his eyes filled with anticipation. "May I?"

Zelda extends her left hand gracefully, a mix of curiosity and anticipation shining in her eyes. Ganondorf delicately takes hold of her lower arm, his touch gentle yet commanding. Skilfully, he pinches the fingertip of her elbow-length glove, sliding it from her hand, revealing her soft skin. Zelda watches intently as his warm caramel-hued fingers elegantly glide along her arm until it reaches her hand, the connection between them sparking a subtle current of energy. His intense gaze meets hers as he tenderly slips the golden band onto her wrist with his other hand.

Meanwhile, Zelda is taken aback by the duality of Ganondorf's nature—his towering strength and imposing presence contrasting with the grace and gentleness he exhibits.

"...As a symbol of our partnership," he releases her hand before continuing, "It is not ideal that we shall not meet again until our wedding, but I must put the needs of my people above my own, as I am sure you would more than understand." Ganondorf prompts, smiling kindly, highly aware of the personal sacrifice she has undertaken.

"Indeed, I do," Zelda returns a smile, observing the intricate feminine designs carved into the solid gold band. “Do you often carry women's jewellery, or was this an heirloom of your mother’s?” Zelda quips playfully, analysing the meaning behind his pre-planned gift.

Ganondorf chuckles lightly. “Neither… I would not… degrade you with such an item. I should perhaps confess that... I had come here intending to ask for your hand.”

Zelda smirks as he confirms her suspicion. “You… didn’t get along with your mother then?”

"Hmmm… you could say." Ganondorf remarks, guardedly.

“I never knew my mother," Zelda informs, "She died shortly after having me. I could never imagine despising her." She pauses before pursuing, "Can I ask what happened between you and your mother?”

Ganondorf sighs deeply before shifting in his chair; the topic clearly unsettling. “She… tried to... kill me... shortly after I had been born.”

Zelda’s face whitens. “I am… so sorry... I didn’t… mean to intrude.”

“It is quite alright. If we are to be married, it is something you should know.” He reassures.

“I am… glad she had a change of heart.” Zelda remarks in an attempt to defuses the tenseness of the subject.

“She... didn’t. My tribe's witches found her carrying my lifeless, freezing body from the river's edge. Using their magic, they took her life and used it to revive me." He revises ruefully.

Zelda stares at him in utter disbelief, her mouth hanging open in shock.

Ganondorf smiles awkwardly. “My honesty’s made you uncomfortable-”

“-No, it’s just... I can’t believe someone could do such a horrible thing,” She gazes at him, a mixture of sadness and pity in her eyes.

"She ...feared, along with many other Gerudo, that I would walk the same path as the previous Gerudo king," he confesses, his voice heavy with the weight of his burden. "That I would bring forth a world of darkness, perpetuating the cycle of destruction. I was burdened with his legacy, a legacy to which I share no blood."

He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "She never even gave me a chance to prove myself, to forge my own path," Ganondorf explains, his voice filled with a touch of bitterness. "She judged me… condemned me to death before I even opened my eyes.” He looks across to Zelda's eyes, his voice steady and resolute. "I do not seek your pity by telling you of my origins, Princess."

“Sorry,” Zelda apologizes, realising her expression was doing just that. “I always thought that the singular male Gerudo born each century was seen as a gift; that is why they were made king?”

"The birth of a male Gerudo was seen as a rare and powerful occurrence, a blessing to our people," he explains. "The kings held a revered position, considered godlike figures and entrusted with leading our tribes." A hint of sadness flickers in his eyes as he continues, "But over time, the meaning of my name, the only male Gerudo name, has been distorted and corrupted. Its translation shifting from Strongest chief to ..." he sighs before revealing, "Demon Lord."

He observes the pity lingering in Zelda's gaze before he clears his throat. "Enough of the macabre. If we are only to share a few hours together before our next meeting, let it be a pleasant conversation." He pauses before redirecting. "Tell me Princess, what are your interests, your passions?”

Zelda observes him for a moment longer, realizing that beneath his imposing exterior, there is a deeply wounded soul, someone who has endured immense hardship from the very beginning of his life. Despite the prejudice he has prevailed, perhaps he is truly intent on proving himself worthy of the role that has been thrust upon him. She suddenly feels shameful at the bias she has shown him upon his arrival.

She clears her throat before going along with Ganondorf’s wish to change the subject. “I have always had a deep interest in the history of Hyrule and its people. Exploring the ruins and ancient texts, uncovering the stories of our ancestors.”

“It seems we share a similar passion. Learning from past mistakes and understanding our roots is essential in guiding our kingdoms toward a brighter future. But these passions are not one of a personal nature but born from necessity as our positions as rulers. What are your real interests? Your hobbies as an individual, not as a future monarch.”

Zelda smiles curiously at Ganondorf’s openness. He had been vulnerable to her, she could allow him a window into her personal interests in return. “I... find myself drawn to creating art.” She pauses, analysing Ganondorf’s expression; he nods encouragingly for her to go on. “Painting allows me to capture moments of beauty and tranquillity, preserving them for eternity. It gives me a sense of peace and allows me to express emotions that words often fail to convey.”

Ganondorf nods appreciatively. “I can understand the appeal. Artistic pursuits require patience and a keen eye for detail. I must admit, my artistic endeavours lie more in the realm of music.” Zelda seems surprised by his admission. He smirks as he goes on, glad to boast his skills. “I believe myself to be quite the accomplished organist. Mastering such a complex instrument requires unwavering dedication, patience, and resilience. Each note played with care and intention has the power to create harmonies that resonate deep within one's soul.”

Zelda observes the note of pride in his voice. “It is clear that you approach both your musical pursuits and your rule with great passion and commitment, King Ganondorf.”

“I am humbled by, and grateful for your praises, Princess. I would like to hope... that in time, our union could be more than one of just political gain.” Ganondorf suggests, his amber eyes burning intensely into hers.

Zelda’s smile fades; the conversation with her father surfaces in her mind. “My lord, I am… aware of my ... wifely duties and fully intend to fulfill all of the necessities required of our union.”

Ganondorf chuckles awkwardly. “That’s… not quite what I meant. We seem to share similar interests; perhaps we could come to challenge each other on more of an intellectual level. As for the… intimacies of marriage, if I can ease your mind, they will come with time, when we are both ready. I am sure the future heir of Hyrule can wait until then.”

Zelda's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and appreciation. "I must admit, King Ganondorf, I allowed myself to be swayed by the tales and legends that surrounded your name. But in speaking with you now, I see that there is more to you than meets the eye. I only hope that you can accept my apologize for my presumptions."

Ganondorf's expression becomes slightly more serious, and a subtle edge enters his voice. "Indeed, as the king of the Gerudo, I must exhibit strength and firmness in my rule. I cannot afford to be perceived as weak or vulnerable. But do not mistake those tales as fiction. I am not a merciful king; those who challenge me or threaten the safety of my people are met with swift and decisive action."

Zelda raises an eyebrow, her voice steady but filled with conviction, undeterred by his underlying intimidation. "King Ganondorf, I understand the need for strength and firmness in leadership. However, mercy and compassion have their place as well. It was through my father's mercy that we stand here today. Had he not extended his hand in forgiveness and sought a new path, you and your people would have faced this crisis alone."

Zelda’s chair screeches upon the floor as she moves it closer to Ganondorf. Her gaze unwavering as she takes his hand. "Mercy does not equate to weakness, nor does it undermine the safety of one's kingdom. It is a testament to the strength and wisdom of a leader who can discern when to wield the sword and when to extend a hand in peace.”

Zelda's words strike a chord with Ganondorf; his expression softens slightly as he is taken aback by her courage and conviction. A hint of admiration shines in his eyes; his voice now carries a tone of respect. "Princess Zelda, your passion and empathy are truly remarkable. It is clear that you are a leader in your own right, capable of guiding our kingdoms toward a future of unity and prosperity."

Zelda smiles hopefully at Ganondorf’s words, as his hand slowly slips from hers.

Despite her reservations and the lingering feelings for Link that echoed in the recesses of her mind, she couldn't deny the undeniable allure of Ganondorf. His handsome features, the confident way he carried himself, and the mysterious magnetism that surrounded him drew her in. There was depth to his intellect, and his genuine interest in her insights sparked a connection that transcended their political differences.

In the quiet moments between discussions, Zelda finds herself contemplating the intricacies of the situation—the alliance, the impending marriage. It all felt like a delicate dance, and she was uncertain of the steps. Yet, in Ganondorf, she sensed a potential partner who could not only engage her mind but also offer a unique perspective on the world. Perhaps, she muses, her life on this path might not be as daunting as she had originally anticipated.

Chapter Text

The hours cascade away, a myriad of discussions on topics spanning the vast realms of knowledge. Their conversation flows seamlessly between history, politics, and the sciences, surprising them both with the depth of their mutual interests. Animated discussions unfold about advancements in Hyrulean alchemy, delving into recent breakthroughs in potion-making and magical elixirs. Ganondorf, drawing on his intimate knowledge of the mystical properties of the Gerudo Desert, shares insights into the unique magical qualities of certain desert plants that could revolutionize potion brewing across the kingdom.

Their dialogue shifts to the field of astronomy, where Ganondorf shares captivating tales of his stargazing experiences, highlighting the profound role of astronomy among the Gerudo, particularly in navigating their expansive deserts. Zelda reciprocates by revealing the ongoing efforts within Hyrule to construct an observatory, not only for navigation but also to contribute to the broader understanding of the cosmos.

As they dive into the concept of parallel universes, both express their interpretations and theories. Zelda, drawing from ancient texts, references Hylian legends that allude to the existence of alternate realms. Ganondorf, with his thoughtful and curious mind, explores the possibility of other dimensions beyond the veil of Hyrule.

Amidst their in-depth discussion, a soft chime echoes through the hall, marking the midnight hour.

Zelda, slightly startled, glances at the clock. "I hadn't realized it was so late. We must continue this conversation another time. Unfortunately, I must excuse myself and retire. I have a tremendously demanding schedule tomorrow morning and must be well-rested."

She rises from the table, Ganondorf rising with her as she continues. "Thank you, my lord, for the intriguing discussions. I believe I have much to think over; I may not be able to sleep at all because of it."

Ganondorf smiles, surveying the now quieter room. "Seems the celebration ended quite a while ago. I must apologize for keeping you up so late, Princess Zelda. Being raised in the deserts unfortunately has left me as a night owl, I am afraid."

Expressing gratitude, Zelda says, "No need for apologies, King Ganondorf. I appreciate our discussions. They've been enlightening."

Ganondorf replies, "And I, in turn, value your company and hospitality. I look forward to combing your mind at our next meeting. There are many intriguing locations in the desert I am anxious to show you after our union. Until then. Good night, Princess." He holds out his hand, a silent request for hers. She smiles, offering her left hand.

Capturing her hand with a gesture filled with warmth, Ganondorf gracefully kneels upon one knee, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to her outstretched hand. His eyes, intensely fixed upon hers, hold a moment of silent connection.

"Good night, my Lord," she whispers with a subtle blush as he rises and releases her hand. They exchange a polite smile before she turns from the table towards the side exit. Link is already by her side, a silent companion as he gracefully fetches the door for her. The soft glow of torches illuminates her path as she ascends the grand staircase to the upper floors.

As she walks through the quiet hallways, she can't shake the lingering sensations from their encounter. The unmistakable connection that has developed—a bond built on shared interests, intellectual stimulation, and an unexpected affinity that neither of them had anticipated. Yet, as Link shadows her footsteps while escorting her to her chambers, her mind can't help but return to him.

Her conflicted emotions manifest in the rhythmic cadence of her footsteps. The charm and challenge of Ganondorf, so different from the enduring support, friendship, and silent admiration she holds for Link, create a tumultuous swirl within her.

With each step, her pace slows, weighed down by the memories of their youth. The laughter, shared adventures, and unspoken understanding form a bittersweet contrast, the warmth she felt a moment ago now gives way to a poignant ache.

There's an almost palpable sadness between Zelda and Link as they walk side by side, the air heavy with the unspoken tension. She can't help but feel a pang of guilt, a sense of betrayal to their unspoken connection at the thought of Link being subjected to witnessing her interactions with Ganondorf. Each gentle touch, every smile, and laugh now carry the weight of a clandestine betrayal, a fracture in the foundation of their enduring friendship.

She pauses at her chamber door, slowly turning towards him, searching his eyes for confirmation of his disappointment. Yet, his expression remains unreadable and stoic, as always.

He averts his gaze, clearing his throat before addressing her.

"Good night, Your Majesty," he says, his voice steady but lacking its usual warmth.

"Good night, Link," she sighs, their eyes lingering on each other as the door slowly closes between them.

As the door clicks shut, a long, pained, silent sigh escapes Link's lungs. His eyes momentarily squeeze shut as he falters from holding it together. Swallowing deeply, he turns away from the Princesses door. His head hangs a little lower, and his feet drag ever so slightly as he moves down the hall.

As he reaches the end of the corridor, Zelda’s voice urgently calls to him from the other end.

"Link, Link!"

He pauses and turns towards her before responding dutifully, “Yes, Princess?”

She hurries towards him, “Link, I wanted to thank you for all your years of service to me. Once I relocate to Gerudo Fortress, your absence will be sorely noted. I couldn’t have asked for a more exceptional guard and for such, an exceptional reward is in order. I was originally going to present it to you for a different reason, but with circumstances the way that they are, I doubt I will be able to see it.” She informs him.

Link observes her curiously, waiting for her to present her gift.

“I don’t have it on me,” she smiles foolishly, realizing he was waiting. She turns back towards her quarters as she continues to speak. “I had it stored above my wardrobe months ago, and I am afraid it is far too heavy for me to get down.”

Uncertainly, Link follows after her.

She opens the door to her chambers and strides inside. Link pauses at the door, searching the room for Marin, Zelda’s handmaiden. Zelda, meanwhile, is on the tips of her toes, clearing away the items she could reach upon her wardrobe.

“Link, it’s just to the back right corner, the long package. Link?” She turns around to see him still standing outside the door. “You are welcome to come in, Link.”

Link cautiously responds, “Princess… I don’t believe that would be appropriate of me, not without your maiden present.”

Zelda reasons, “If you can be entrusted with my life, I would like to believe I could trust you to enter my room unchaperoned for at least a few minutes."

Link uncertainly groans at the implications of the task as Zelda’s persuading puppy dog eyes bury into his core. She had been perfecting that look ever since they were kids, he reflects. “Of course, your majesty,” he concedes.

Zelda returns to rearranging the boxes she has pulled down onto the drawing-room table, creating a passage to the wardrobe. She spots a bottle of wine and goblets upon its surface, a small note tied to the neck of the bottle before pausing to read it to herself.

Link, meanwhile, hesitantly advances into the room before standing awkwardly in the doorway, uncertainly debating what to do with the slightly open door. He had never been alone behind closed doors with the princess before, well not since childhood, and most certainly not alone in her chambers.

Zelda smiles inwardly at the note before searching for Link once more.

She laughs as she notices him, “It's okay, Link, you can close the door.”

He cautiously obeys as he closes the door. He had been in her chambers many times before, not only as her sentry but as a guest. However, her handmaiden had always been present, if not other servants or ladies of the court. Marin had always seemingly materialized from the corners of the room; he glances towards the changing screen, half expecting her to appear from behind it, as she often did.

“We should share one last toast,” Zelda suggests, pouring the wine into a goblet before holding it out to Link, who is still standing by the now-closed door. “Once I am married, it will be the end of our tradition. Only females are allowed into Gerudo Fortress after all. We haven’t shared one together since… since your twenty-fifth, and my twenty-second. It’s hard to believe that was almost two months ago,” Zelda sways.

It hadn’t been his actual birthday they had celebrated; he was too young to remember the day of his actual birthday. Instead, they celebrated the day he had been found, the twenty-first of November, which also coincided with Zelda’s own birthday. He reflected.

“It’s not very often father lets the old, dusty bottles out of the cellar. Poor Marin must have gone to quite the trouble to secure this bottle.” Zelda announces, reading the label of the bottle. “It’s over a century old! We may have to hide the evidence before father discovers its location,” Zelda quips.

Link's rigid posture softens, his shoulders easing down as a nostalgic smile tugs at the corner of his lips. The familiar camaraderie they once shared begins to resurface, creating a bridge between their past and present. The memories of those mischievous adventures, now accompanied by the subtle aroma of aged wine, weave a nostalgic tapestry that momentarily eclipses the formality of their present circumstances.

“The last time I willingly helped you commit a felony, I do recall the consequences falling solely on my shoulders," he confesses as he crosses the room, his voice carrying a hint of playful reproach. “The cook made me scrub those floors for days.”

Zelda's laughter dances through the room, her giggles echoing with a touch of mischief. "Oh, but the looks on their faces when all those cuccos took off. Priceless indeed," she exclaims, wiping away a tear of amusement. The memory seems to brighten her spirit as she sets down the goblet and fills her own.

Link chimes in, his voice filled with cheerful recollection. "I heard the kitchen hands are still finding feathers to this day.”

A wistful expression crosses Zelda's face as she reflects on their past escapades. "Oh, the mischief we got ourselves into," she muses, a hint of wistfulness lacing her words.

"We?" Link replies with a raised eyebrow, his tone filled with mock surprise. “If my memory serves me right, it was always your ingenious ideas that ended in mischief. You were... quite a wild child."

A grin tugs at Zelda's lips, a glimmer of playfulness returning to her eyes. "I was quite the handful, wasn't I? Oh, how I miss those carefree days. Life seemed so much… simpler." she says, her tone turning more solemn, a touch of longing lacing her words.

“Sometimes you don’t know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory,” Link reflects, their eyes lingering on each other.

A silent moment passes between them.

“Thank you,” Zelda speaks up.

“What for?” Link inquires.

“...For all the memories,” Zelda replies earnestly, her eyes burying into his core once more.

His eyes nervously break away from hers, drifting to the goblet upon the table. “Then a toast. To memories made, and moments to come,” Link announces, taking up the goblet and holding it out to hers.

Zelda feigns a smile. “Cheers.”

They sip despondently, their eyes locked on the contents of their glasses, each reminiscing over long-forgotten times they shared. A heavy silence lingers for what seems like a century until Link breaks it. “Well, I should get back to my duties. Thank you, Princess, for the pleasure of being your personal guard.” He informs, bowing.

Zelda giggles. “The pleasure is all mine. But... Um… Link. Your gift?”

Link blushes. “Oh, yes, of course.”

He makes his way to the wardrobe and locates the long package before pulling it down. Zelda watches him eagerly. “Open it,” she requests excitedly.

Carefully, Link unfolds the canvas wrapping, revealing a stunning blue-winged sword. His eyes drift up to Zelda in astonishment. "Is this the-"

"No, only a replica," Zelda interjects, a hint of pride in her voice. "I've spent months reading through texts and scrolls, meticulously sketching its features from their descriptions to have a duplicate made. The original has been lost for almost half a century after all.”

Link, nevertheless, impressed by its detail, unsheathes it, examining the blade. He holds it before him, testing its balance. Zelda takes the sheath from him, allowing him to draw it through the air. A look of awe washes over him at its beauty and craftsmanship.

“Thank you, Princess, this is truly a remarkable and unique gift. I will treasure it always,” he informs earnestly.

“Your welcome, Link. Your unwavering loyalty and friendship have guided me throughout the years, and I am eternally grateful.” Says Zelda.

“I must admit, now I am curious about what it was originally going to be gifted for?" Link inquires, intrigued.

Zelda smiles knowingly. “I shouldn’t say…” she pauses teasingly before blurting out excitedly. “Fine! Father is going to make you the next captain of the guard!”

Link's eyes widen in surprise. “But… Linebeck is captain?”

“He is to retire in two months’ time!” Zelda informs, watching a range of emotions flicker across Link's face—shock, disbelief, and a hint of pride.

"Captain of the guard... I don't know what to say. I never imagined..." His voice trails off, overcome with gratitude.

Zelda steps closer. "Link, it is time for you to be recognized for your unwavering service and commitment. I have no doubt that you will excel in this new role. I only wish I could be here to see it.”

As she hands back the sheath for his new blade, it slips from her hand. Their hands instinctively shoot forward to catch it and their fingers touch. Their eyes lock, a weight of unspoken emotions lingering between them as her fingers linger on top of his. He notices her breath hasten before she quickly retracts her hand. They both look away simultaneously, suddenly aware of the length of their eye and hand contact. Link coughs awkwardly as he sheaths his sword while Zelda brushes a strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

They stand there, their eyes averted, the atmosphere crackling with unspoken emotions. He notices her battling with an intense internal conflict, her shallow breath and her twitching lips tremble as if on the verge of revealing her internal strife. She takes a deep breath, gathering her courage before speaking softly, her voice filled with vulnerability. "Link... there's something else I need to tell you," she begins, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere in the distance. “I feel like I may never have this opportunity to say this again, and I can’t start my new life without thanking you.”

Link stands a little taller in response, his own breath and heartbeat intensifying.

She gathers herself. “I have known you for all my life, and every hour I’ve spent with you was a pleasure. You have been my protector, teacher, confidant, and counsel. You are also my dearest and most loyalist friend.” She pauses, willing herself to go on. “And I… I.” She takes a deep breath, fully committing herself to the next few words, her hand reaching towards his arm, “Link, I have always loved-“

"-I know," Link whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of agony and resignation. His hand moves to gently block Zelda's touch. He closes his eyes, struggling to find the strength to continue as he is forced to cut down her admission.

Silence looms between them before Zelda breaks it. “And… you… don’t feel the same.” She remarks heartbroken, turning from him.

“It is because I feel the same way that I cannot allow this to proceed." He opens his eyes and looks deeply into hers as she turns back to face him. His blade clatters as he sets it upon her table before continuing, “You are a princess, betrothed to a king, a king who still resides in this very castle. And I… I am no one. An orphaned boy with no name.” He looks down, unable to take in her despair any longer. “We can’t entertain this… fantasy any longer… to hold onto hope of something that cannot be… it is... too painful.”

Zelda places her hand on his face and pulls it up to meet hers. He meets them briefly before looking away. She can see the turmoil in his eyes, the battle between desire and reason. She takes a step closer, their bodies now intimately close, their breaths mingling in the charged air.

"You are the other half of my soul," Zelda declares, her voice barely above a whisper, her delicate fingers grazing the afternoon stubble on his face, sending electrifying pulses through his body. "Though our paths may never converge, the bond we share is undeniable. I yearn for just… a moment, one... stolen kiss, where we can be whole, if only for a fleeting instant."

He feels her chest tenderly press against his, his heart races in response, his hand involuntarily slips around her waist, drawing her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against his as their souls entwine in an unspoken dance of passion and longing.

Their eyes lock in a drowning sea of unspoken desires and unfulfilled dreams. Hiss hand trembles as it traces a gentle path up her side, his touch sending shivers down her spine. In that intimate moment, time stands still, allowing them to savour their forbidden connection that pulsed between them.

As their bodies draw closer, their hearts beat as one. Their soft, nervous breaths coursing over each other as their lips, temptingly close linger just out of reach. The magnetic pull between them creating an intimate tension, a moment suspended in time. Yet, reason triumphs over desire as Link reluctantly pulls away.

Following her heart's reckless yearning, Zelda seizes Link by his tunic, her lips crashing into his in a fierce and passionate kiss. Momentarily stunned by the intensity of her actions, Link quickly succumbs to the tidal wave of desire that surges through him.

His hand instinctively cups her face, his fingers entwine in her hair, deepening their embrace. In that stolen moment, their lips fuse together, their souls intertwining in a blaze of unbridled passion. Every touch, every taste, spoke volumes of the love they dared not speak aloud.

Their hands glide tenderly over each other’s figure’s, as they finally give into years of longing that had haunted them both. She feels his excited pulse pounding in his neck, just as hers was as she ambitiously pushes her waist into his. Their kissing intensifies as her proximity stirs movement beneath his tunic, her hips subtly roll against him in response, spurring him to grow with each pass. He pulls her in close, holding her tightly to himself as their lips break apart. They softly gaze into each other’s eyes as the world around them seems to dissolve away, leaving just the two of them.

She smiles mischievously as her hand creeps under his chain mail shirt and tunic. His skin prickles with excitement as she strokes his smooth muscular stomach before curling her fingers around his bare hip, squeezing it tauntingly as she softly kisses his neck. Her hand stealthily slithers along the vee of his abdomen bringing forth an involuntary grown from Link’s quivering torso as his head slips back in pure bliss from her touch.

She takes his hand and slides it up to her clothed breast, his fingers lightly patter her circumference, his eyes focused upon her as if to ask permission. She encourages him to gently squeeze her… to feel her delicate breast. Her breath shudders in response as she urges him to grope her more firmly with each squeeze, he throbs eagerly against her with each pleasurable sigh that she murmurs.

His other hand slips into her hair, clearing a spot on her neck before sucking on her supple skin. A soft squeak escapes her lips as she melts in his embrace.

Her hand travels down his stomach, he breathes deeply as her fumbling hand pauses to work at loosening his sword belt. He freezes at the pressure of her untying the leather, lighting tingles throughout him, conflicting his sense of duty with desire. What he had just done was enough to see his head roll from the chopping block.

He exhales with a shaky breath before grabbing her hands, stopping her from unknotting the leather strap completely. “This is more than just a kiss, Zelda.” He courteously informs her as he attempts to settle his breath and his excitement with it.

“I think, your right…” Zelda anxiously pants. “But I think you want to see… where it takes us… just as much as I do.”

She moves with purpose, crossing to the door, his eyes follow her every step, his conflicted mind still holding him captive. Her fingers deftly flick the lock, the soft sound of it securing them in a private haven. The world beyond that door, with its expectations and constraints, momentarily fades away, leaving only the two of them suspended in a space where titles and duties lose their significance.

Her fingers trace up to her chest before nervously unlacing the front of her corset, Links eyes widen in response as each lace is pulled through, his mouth drying in response as he remains rooted to the spot unable to look away. She peals the corset from her torso, revealing the silk under slip beneath, his eyes drawn to stiffened points of her breasts raised beneath the thin fabric. She wiggles free from the skirt of her ball gown, reveling those long, sleek legs beneath.

He swallows deeply and closes his mouth as he takes her in. Each curve, each line, a captivating masterpiece beneath the thin white silken slip.

She smiles coyly, moving in close. She tantalisingly lifts his chain mail shirt and tunic. He obediently manoeuvres his arms, allowing her to slide it up his back to undress him. She wraps her arms around his neck, her bosoms pressing against his now bare chest. His own arms slide around her lower waist, caressing her sides with the tips of fingers.

Her voice, filled with a mix of longing and desperation, caresses his ear as she whispers, "Tell me you haven't wanted this... fantasized about this moment."

Link's breath hitches as his face nuzzles against her neck, overcome by the intoxicating scent of lilac and gooseberries that envelopes him. His muffled voice filled with raw honesty whispers his confession, "I do... I have... dreamt of this moment. To be... a part of you."

His hand finds its way to her breast once again, she shudders as he envelopes her, his thrilled breath hastening upon her bare neck at her response. Her fingers track over his lower abdomen as they come to trace over his hardened form. He feels his mind slipping away as he is overtaken by bliss. Her fingers slide around his length, stroking him through his trousers as he comes to sigh in her ear as he furrows deeper into her neck.

He pulls back from her with a startle as he feels himself trickle at her sensual touch. Regaining his senses once more he quarrels, "Zelda. We can't… do this. We both know the consequences that await us if we give in to this… forbidden love. This longing, this pain will only grow between us, we cannot afford to have it consume us, there is too much at stake.”

“Because I am of royal blood! I have been restricted all my life, every dress, speech, event, even what I eat, all decided for me!" Zelda beseeches, unburdening herself. "Now, I am to be married to a man I do not love for the sake of the kingdom. All because of a title.” Her hand cradles his face as she goes on, “I want to know what love feels like, with the man that I love, before I am condemned to my eternal, loveless marriage." Her voices returns to a whisper once more, "For just one moment, can’t we just be a man and a woman, and nothing more. Not a princess, or a Royal guard. Just Link… and Zelda… like when were young.”

Link's gaze remains steadfast, locked onto Zelda's eyes as she lays bare the turmoil of her heart. Her words hang in the air, a poignant melody resonating in the stillness of the room—a melody of longing and quiet desperation.

Deep within, he recognizes the echoes of her struggle. The weight of duty, the unyielding expectations placed upon them by their roles in the kingdom—it's a familiar burden. His empathy is a silent acknowledgment of the shared sacrifices they've made for the greater good, for the kingdom they've sworn to protect.

Yet, as Zelda's fingers cradle his face, a warmth seeps through, stirring something profound within him. The plea in her eyes is not lost on him; it's an urgent call to consider the boundaries that have confined them. The internal conflict within him isn't a manifestation of indifference; rather, it's the clash of emotions that defines his existence.

In the sanctum of his thoughts, he grapples with the intricacies of his feelings. Desire, unrestrained and unspoken, reverberates in the chambers of his heart. Simultaneously, the duty that has tethered him to the kingdom demands allegiance—an allegiance he has never wavered from.

Moments pass between them as Link remains deep in thought, trapped within the confines of own indecision. Meanwhile, Zelda slowly slips her arms from his neck and tentatively back down to his belt, cautiously testing his reaction as she precedes with untying it.

Link's gaze remains fixed on Zelda, an intensity in his eyes that reflects the storm raging within as he is left frozen in purgatory. She takes his scabbard and gathers the loosened sword belt from his waist, the familiar weight of the blade relinquished, he watches in silence as she places it beside the new sword on her table.

Her eyes look earnestly into his as she slips her arms free of the silk slip, allowing it to fall to floor with her undergarments, followed by the golden bangle that drops into the folds of fabric upon the cold stone floor.

A tiny gasp escapes his lips in surprise, his heart fluttering in awe as her pale, naked skin softly glows in the candlelight. There she was, just like in all his wildest fantasies, he reflects. As beautiful as the goddess Hylia herself, wanting him. Needing him. Could they be just man and woman for just one moment? He questions.

Her mischievous eyes focus upon him as she seductively loosens her hair, allowing the golden strands to fall delicately over shoulders and breasts. Her eyes beckoning him towards her while her hands invite him to explore her, to feel every inch of her delicate soft skin, to claim her supple breasts with his mouth. Images of her squirming beneath him as he took her, pleasured her, fill his mind. The un-lady like sounds he, and he alone could drive from her echoing in his mind,

He hastily kicks off his boots, she beams at him as she advances and assists him in removing his pants.

He had made his decision and he was going to treasure this night for all eternity. He reflects licentiously.

Zelda’s arms fold around his neck as she pulls herself up onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He catches her thighs as they slip down his body, he cradles them and holds her closely, savouring the feeling of her slickness pressed against his yearning unit. She ruffles his long hair in-between her fingertips as an eager smile traces his lips as he carries her to the bed.

He lets her slip down his body, lowering her to the bed before clambering over her, settling his hips between her open legs. Their combined whispers and giggles permeate the air as they indulge in the ecstasy of their secret encounter.

Chapter Text

Ganondorf's eyes follow Zelda as she gracefully exits the great hall, the remnants of the celebration laid bare in the quietude. The guests have dispersed, and diligent servants begin the task of restoring order. Lost in the engrossing discussions with the princess, he hadn't noticed the gradual winding down of the festivities.

He locates the King of Hyrule before approaching, he bows his head respectfully. "Your majesty, I extend my sincere gratitude for your hospitality. Princess Zelda is truly remarkable; she will undoubtedly make a fine queen."

King Daphnes acknowledges Ganondorf's words with a nod. "I appreciate your kind sentiments about my daughter. She possesses great strength and wisdom, qualities that befit a queen."

Ganondorf, unwavering in his gaze, replies, "Indeed, Princess Zelda has left a profound impression on me. Her intelligence, her dedication to her people and commitment to her duties are truly admirable."

King Daphnes expression softens, a touch of paternal concern creeping into his eyes. "While I understand the significance of this union for our nations, I must express my hope that you will treat my daughter with the utmost respect and care. Her happiness is of paramount importance to me."

Ganondorf's gaze intensifies, and his voice carries a note of sincerity. "I assure you, my King, that I hold the princess in the highest regard. I am committed to ensuring her happiness and well-being."

King Daphnes studies Ganondorf for a moment, searching for any signs of deceit or ill intentions. Finding none, he nods approvingly. "Very well, King Ganondorf. I will trust in your words and intentions. May our kingdoms find harmony and prosperity through this union."

Ganondorf bows deeply in a gesture of respect and gratitude. "Thank you, your highness."

The King of Hyrule nods, signalling the end of their conversation.

Ganondorf signals for his followers, and together they discuss the details of their imminent return at first light. As he strides back to his chair to retrieve his cape, his gaze falls upon Zelda's gloves left behind on the table. Delicately picking them up, he inspects the tiny fingers of the silk glove. A notion crosses his mind, had she purposely left them as a pretext for a private moment? A subtle invitation perhaps? 

Determined, Ganondorf approaches the King of Hyrule once more, Zelda's gloves held respectfully in his hand. He waits patiently until the king has finished addressing his servants before being acknowledged. "Your highness, it appears the Princess may have inadvertently left her gloves behind. With your permission, may I undertake the task of returning them to her? I would relish the opportunity to bid her one last goodbye, if you deem it suitable, my lord."

King Daphnes glances at the gloves and then back at Ganondorf, his expression thoughtful. After a moment's consideration, he nods. "Very well, Ganondorf. I’ll have my guards accompany you to her quarters. Keep in mind it has been a long day, and the princess requires rest for her duties."

Ganondorf bows deeply, gratitude evident in his voice. "Thank you, your majesty. I will be mindful of that and keep our interaction brief."

The king gestures for his guards, instructing three of them to accompany Ganondorf to the Princess's Chambers. As they exit the hall, Nabooru takes up her position behind her king, the group proceeding through the castle halls.

As they ascend into the upper quarters of the castle, the Hylian guards wait in the hall, their backs pressed against the far wall, Nabooru standing dutifully opposite them as Ganondorf approaches the princess’s door. His fist hovers above her door in preparation to knock before halting as the sounds of moaning and creaking make their way into his ears.

His nose twitches irritably as his fingers cautiously wrap around the door handle before pushing it down, yet it remains shut. His hand floats over the lock, a soft purple glow emanates from the keyhole as the lock mechanism softly clicks, each pin slipping into its slot. His hand grips the handle once more before silently prying open the door and peering in through the small crack.

The sight of Zelda’s bare form mounted upon her royal guard’s waist in the dim candlelight, torments his eyes. Her moans of pleasure building as she hastily rides on top of him, her head slowly falling back as their rhythm intensifies into chaotic ruts. The man straddled between her legs greedily pulling her down onto himself as his body arcs beneath her. Grunts of ecstasy accompanying each of his harsh jolts that he delivers into her quivering body as she bites her bottom lip to stifle her cries. Each of them lost in embrace of their own synchronized raptures.

The glint of gold caught in the slit of light extending from the partly open door catches his eye—the golden bangle he had presented her now laid discarded, like her virtue, in the folds of her hastily undressed gown upon the floor.

As he pulls back from the open door, Ganondorf's body tenses, and an overwhelming wave of rage courses through him. He scrunches the gloves in his fist before heatedly throwing them to the floor. His chest rises and falls with the intensity of his anger, the betrayal unfolding behind that door gnawing at the core of his being.

Seething with restrained anger, he manages to compose himself with a deep, controlled breath. Abruptly turning on his heels, he storms back the way they had come, his purposeful strides echoing through the silent corridors. Nabooru, ever dutiful, hastens to keep up with his furious pace, her expression mirroring his intensity.

The Hylian guards, witnessing Ganondorf's abrupt departure, exchange puzzled glances. Linebeck, the captain of the guard, senses something amiss. A hint of worry etches onto their faces as they hear the escalating sounds emerging through the slightly open door. Linebeck peeks into the room to confirm their suspicions before silently closing the door and following after Ganondorf.

The great hall doors burst open, startling the servants who were clearing the tables after the feast. King Daphnes watches as a furious Ganondorf erupts out of the doorway.

“The treaty is off!" Ganondorf bellows. "I will not join an alliance with a kingdom unable to keep their promises!”

King Daphnes is taken aback, responding in bewilderment, “King Ganondorf, I assure you, we will deliver the water to your people. I have already sent a message to the Goron’s to start preparations to deliver their spring water.”

Ganondorf's face contorts with anger, “I will not be humiliated in such a way!" His voice filled with malice as he threatens, "You will see what the Gerudo are capable of when I seize the kingdom of Hyrule.”

Meanwhile, Ganondorf’s servants are madly lugging all his belongings through the great hall, out of the Grand entrance, and into the adjoining courtyard.

King Daphnes takes a step back, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. He speaks with a measured tone, trying to diffuse the tension. “My lord, I have not intended to humiliate you in any way. Please take a seat with me and let us deliberate on what has displeased you.”

Ganondorf storms towards the door leading to the Grand entrance and courtyard beyond, “Perhaps you should ask the princess! She seems to be on top of matters!” With that, Ganondorf turns and slams the giant doors behind him as he swiftly makes his way toward the convoy packing in the courtyard. The heavy thud echoes through the hall, a prelude to the ominous threat lingering in the air.

Daphnes, astonished, blinks rapidly, his wide eyes slowly recovering from the shock. Turning to the guards who had accompanied Ganondorf, he growls through gritted teeth, “What did she do!”

The three guards look between each other before Linebeck steps forward. “Um, my lord, perhaps it would be best to speak to the princess yourself."

“Where is she!” The King demands.

“In… In her chamber, my lord.” Linebeck replies.

The king storms off to confront his daughter, his adviser, Talon, close behind him. Linebeck exchanges a nervous glance with the other two guards before also pursuing after the king.

The once-celebratory hall is now filled with a sense of unease as servants exchange anxious glances while attempting to clear the remnants of the feast. The grandeur of the occasion has given way to a foreboding uncertainty, and the fate of Hyrule teeters on the edge of diplomatic collapse. The tension in the air is palpable, the consequences of a strained alliance and a kingdom on the brink of war hang heavily in the atmosphere.

Chapter Text

Zelda collapses beside Link, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. The weight of their actions slowly settles upon them, casting a shadow of shame and uncertainty. As they lay in silence, Link's mind begins to wander, his thoughts drifting away from the momentary pleasure to the harsh realities that now confront them.

He has done something extremely foolish, a risk that could cost him his life, he reflects guiltily. His heart pounds as a tumultuous storm brews within him.

Feeling the urge to distance himself from the situation, he slowly rises from beside Zelda. "I ...should go," he informs, his voice filled with a blend of regret and responsibility. "People will begin wondering where I am." He excuses himself, hurriedly retrieving his clothing and turning his pants the right way out before slipping them on.

Zelda, her expression a mix of remorse and understanding, sits up as well, wrapping the sheet around herself. Her voice quivers with sincerity as she speaks, "I shouldn't have... led you into this. I am so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Link, no one can know what we have done-”

The chamber door crashes open, her furious father falling into the room. “WHAT DID YOU-” he starts, before taking in the scene displayed before him. His anger turns into shock, then embarrassment.

Zelda pulls the sheet tighter around herself, “Father!” She squeaks in alarm.

Meanwhile, Link's exposed rear is displayed towards the king, “Your majesty!” He startles as he fumbles to pull up his pants.

“Good goddesses,” the king appallingly remarks, taking a step back, covering his eyes from the scene.

After a brief pause, he recovers and proceeds into the room. The three guards follow behind as Talon, the last to enter, hurriedly closes the door behind him.

The king eyes his daughter, full of disappointment as he yells, “I never would have thought you would have been foolish enough to do such a thing!”

Realizing that they were trapped in this confrontation, Zelda hugs the sheet around herself like a robe and stands. Link hurriedly slips on his inside-out tunic before turning to face the king who proceeds to round on him. “And you, I expected better of you, Link!”

Link bows his head, “As did I, your majesty,” he shamefully admits, slowly retrieving his boots from the floor.

The king continues, “Is this why you insisted on keeping him as your personal guard? So that you could continue fornicating with him until the day of your wedding! How long has this been going on?!” He commands.

Zelda pleads, “No, of course not! It was just this once, father. I… I lost control of myself. Please forgive us. It will never happen again, I swear it.”

The king shakes his head back and forth, still seething with rage, “You don’t know what you’ve done!”

Zelda replies fearfully, “Father, please, I am sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Clearly,” her father mutters.

“No one will have to know. I will still marry Ganondorf." Zelda persists.

“He knows!” The king roars.

“Who... who knows?” She asks worriedly.

The king explodes, “GANONDORF! He saw you!”

Zelda clasps her hands to her mouth and utters, “Oh my goddess”.

Link recoils, clenching his eyes and teeth shut, his breath shaky as the word fuck silently escapes his tensed lips.

The king continues crestfallen, “He will be returning with his army to lay siege to the castle."

Link's mind races, every sweet memory they had just made has been contaminated, poisoned. His stomach turns at the thought of what is to come because of their selfishness. Zelda, meanwhile, is at a loss for words.

A thought of retribution stirs in Link's mind, a desperate plan that could set things right at the cost of an insignificant sacrifice. He contemplates the consequences, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he gathers the courage to address the king.

"My King, if I may?" Link speaks up, his voice tinged with a mix of guilt and determination.

The king glares at him. Link decides to continue; he couldn’t get into any more trouble than he already was. “My lord, if you allow it, I will ride out to meet Ganondorf. Reveal to him that I had taken the princess by force, my Lord. And that I, and I alone should be punished for my crimes in whatever way he deems fitting.”

The king strokes his beard as he contemplates the suggestion over in his mind until Linebeck interrupts his thoughts. “Um, my lord?”

“What!” The king barks.

“My lord, I don’t believe that plan will work.” Linebeck informs.

The king rolls his eyes before annoyingly asking through gritted teeth, “Why?”

“Um, my lord… Ah... She um… The princess… ahh.” Linebeck stammers, trying to think of a dignified way of putting it when Ganondorf’s words resurface in his mind. “She was… on top… of the situation, my lord.

The king sighs “Oh goddess...” while pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to push out the disturbing scene of his daughter from his mind.

Link and Zelda both cringe at the captain’s statement. Out of all the positions they had explored, Ganondorf had to see that one, Link thought. There was no way out now; war was coming to Hyrule. Because of him.

The king returns to his senses. “Guards take-” he pauses gesturing to Link, “The situation, to the dungeons until I figure out what to do with him," he ends disappointedly.

“Father please, it was my idea. I commanded him to it; please don’t punish him.” Zelda pleads.

Link slowly turns his back to the guards as they approach him, his demeanour reflecting a readiness to accept the consequences he believes he deserves. Crossing his arms behind him, he allows himself to be contained. The room is filled with a heavy silence as the guards solemnly proceed to bind the former lieutenant’s hands.

Zelda watches on painfully as Link's eyes remain fixed on the floor, a reflection of his internal turmoil and disgrace.

“Did he spill his seed in you?” Her father rounds on her.

“Father please-” Zelda appeals, her eyes flicking to others still in the room.

“Did he!” her father demands.

Zelda looks away shamefully, confirming her father’s accusation, tears welling in her eyes.

Her father shakes his head, “If you had come to bear his child in nine months’ time, how do you think Ganondorf would have reacted! Do you think he would have shown you or the child mercy!”

Zelda keeps her eyes averted, her breath stuttering on the verge of tears.

As the guards walk Link towards the door, the king confronts them, “This… indiscretion. Is not to leave this room. Or I will see all three of your heads on the chopping block! Understood!”

“Yes, your majesty” They reply in unison. The king gestures for them to go.

The king turns to face Zelda, his disappointment palpable in the air. "And you!" he exclaims, a heavy sigh escaping him as he shakes his head in disapproval. Zelda, feeling the weight of her father's disappointment, shrinks back, unable to meet his gaze.

"You promised me you could be trusted," he says, his voice tinged with a sense of betrayal. With that, he exits the room, leaving Zelda behind. Talon is already discussing the implications of the matter beside him, further highlighting the gravity of the situation.

The door slams shut, and an oppressive silence descends upon the room. The weight of the world crashes down upon Zelda as she collapses onto her bed. Clutching her pillow tightly, she succumbs to the overwhelming torrent of emotions. The room, once a sanctuary, now feels like a prison of remorse and regret, each tear a testament to the consequences of her fleeting desires. The solitude amplifies her anguish as she is left alone to grapple with the consequences of her actions and the uncertain future that lies ahead.

Chapter Text

After learning of his daughter's deed, King Daphnes sends forth his ambassador to renegotiate with Ganondorf. A few hours after dawn, the ambassador returns tied slumped upright over his saddle, his severed head thumping alongside his horse's bloodied flank.

Daphnes exchanges a worried glance with his advisor Talon as Captain Linebeck extracts a scrunched-up piece of parchment from the decapitated head's mouth. Linebeck unfurls it and hands it to the king. With a mixture of disgust and trepidation, Daphnes holds the parchment between his fingertips and reads the elegant calligraphy written in what he hopes is red ink.

I implore you, send another to quench my thirst.

King of thieves

The battle has not even begun, reflects Daphnes, and yet, the king of thieves has already committed his first war crime. It is clear that the man he had once welcomed into his castle is nothing more than a façade hiding a dark and ruthless nature.

Daphnes speaks to Linebeck with firm resolve. "Prepare our forces. We will not bow down to such acts of savagery. The king of thieves has shown his true colours, and we shall face him with all the strength and determination that our kingdom possesses."

The captain nods solemnly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation, before swiftly departing to carry out his assigned tasks. Turning to Talon, Daphnes's gaze hardens with determination. "Send messages to the other kingdoms," he commands, his voice unwavering. "Inform them that the King of Hyrule calls upon their forces. We will wipe out the Gerudo once and for all."

"I will draft the messages immediately, Your Majesty," Talon replies, his voice steady despite the weight of the impending conflict. "I will reach out to our allies and make them aware of the threat we face."

The following morning brings with it the responses from the other kingdoms, and King Daphnes eagerly gathers to read their contents. However, as he reads through the messages, his heart sinks. Each kingdom expresses confusion and concern over Ganondorf's sudden rejection of the agreed-upon treaty. They demand an explanation for this unexpected turn of events that led to him calling off the alliance.

Unable to reveal the truth about his daughter's indiscretion, as it would not only compromise her but also potentially lead to further unrest and division among the kingdoms, he finds himself in a difficult position. He's unable to provide a satisfactory answer to their inquiries. The trust that had been established between the kingdoms has been compromised, and their commitment to support Hyrule wavers in the absence of a valid explanation. They will be facing the oncoming battle alone. The odds are stacked against them now, and the kingdom's fate seems increasingly uncertain.

It has been two long days since Link's descent into the dungeons. The cold, damp surroundings only amplify the echoes of self-hatred reverberating in his mind. He replays the moment of folly that cost him everything—the years of disciplined training, the respect he earned—all sacrificed in a fleeting lapse of stupidity. Now, not only has he jeopardized his own existence, but he has also paved the way for the potential downfall of an entire kingdom. The weight of the impending doom presses on him as he envisions the gruesome aftermath: bodies strewn along crumbled city walls, a bloody river winding through fiery streets, the haunting cries of war.

The dungeon door swings open, revealing the piercing light of an oil lamp that floods the oppressive darkness. King Daphnes leads the way, followed by the steadfast figures of Talon and Linebeck. Link stands, acknowledging the inevitable. "Your majesty. Have you finally decided on a fitting punishment?" he states, a plea for retribution evident in his eyes. He welcomes the notion of suffering, believing he deserves the torment that precedes his impending demise.

Linebeck takes the initiative, unlocking the cell and stepping inside. Though Link stands tall, an undercurrent of fear gnaws at his resolve, his breaths shallow.

"Not quite," the king responds.

The chains clatter as Linebeck unshackles Link, confusion etching lines on his face as he rubs his raw wrists.

"I am going to need every fighting soldier we have if we are to defend this castle. Despite your... poor choices... you remain one of my best fighters. I need you to rally the men, prepare them for the imminent battle," the king implores.

Dumbfounded, Link protests, "But... but my punishment!"

"Yes, yes, we can decide on that later, if we make it out alive," the king says dismissively. He sighs. "I saw this coming; I should have intervened. But you made Zelda so happy. I know it was her idea; she can be... persuasive." The king pauses then rambles on. "I was going to offer Zelda's hand to you, at your promotion to Captain of the Guard once Linebeck retired next month."

The revelation pierces Link's heart. He was on the brink of promotion to Captain of the Guard, and was to be married to Princess Zelda! Was. Now, he is nothing—worse than nothing, a criminal, a warmonger. In an alternate universe, perhaps the drought had ended, Ganondorf never came to Hyrule, and he ascended in rank, lived a life with the Princess, raised a family.

The king's voice brings him back to reality. "What am I saying? It doesn't matter now. The other kingdoms are withholding aid, demanding answers about Ganondorf's rejection of the treaty," the king laments. "He has seized Kakariko village and the south-western watchtower on his return to the deserts, claiming whatever resources they had previously lacked."

Link drifts into thoughts of what might have been once more.

Observing Link's distant gaze, the king sighs, acknowledging a shared desire for an alternate fate. "Get them training, Link. I need them in peak form. Your absence has been attributed to illness; maintain their spirits. They will need it."

The king departs, leaving Link to grapple with the weight of his actions. In the quietude of the open cell, Link sways, his body moving involuntarily, before snapping back to reality. He exits the dungeons, making his way to the bathing room—seeking physical and mental revitalization before he must inspire the soldiers he has unwittingly doomed to an impending battle.

Chapter Text

The days race by in a blur of frenzied activity as the castle staff work tirelessly to organize the keep for the impending siege. Stockpiles of food, weapons and medical supplies are gathered in the keep, a difficult task considering the current famine. The air is thick with tension as everyone prepares for the imminent threat looming on the horizon. The castle walls are fortified, and soldiers train rigorously to defend their home against the approaching Gerudo forces.

A month since the threat of war, a colossal dust cloud now looms in the distance—a foreboding sign of the approaching threat from the south. Scout reports indicate that roughly six hundred Gerudo warriors are advancing, and they are less than a day's march from the castle. The tension within the castle walls is palpable as the defenders brace themselves for the impending siege. The urgency in the air is matched only by the anxiety that courses through every inhabitant, knowing that the fate of the kingdom hangs in the balance. The time for preparation is over, and the castle awaits the onslaught that is about to descend upon it.

Despite the grim news, the defending Hylians remain determined. The castle, perched on high ground, gave them a strategic advantage. The defending force numbered only four hundred, depleted after losing four hundred men in previous unsuccessful attempts to retake the southern border. Still, they held steadfast, preparing for the impending battle.

The Gerudo army arrive by early afternoon the next day, a notable absence lingers among their ranks—Ganondorf was yet to be seen. The Gerudo set up their camps on the outskirts of the castle walls, each army silently strategizing, a tense standoff with both sides watching intently over the city walls.

In the war council conference, it is anticipated that the Gerudo would undoubtedly try to seize their advantage under the cover of darkness. Thriving in the absence of sunlight due to their desert origins, the Gerudo found the cool night air conducive to their tasks. Their eyesight, evolved for nocturnal life, granted them a clarity of vision in the dark. The council members exchanged concerned glances, fully aware that facing the Gerudo in the night would pose a significant challenge for the defenders.

However, despite their dwindling numbers and the absence of reinforcements, the Hylians find solace in their strategic position—the high ground within the castle's fortifications. This advantage, coupled with the knowledge that a successful siege would require three times the number of the defending force, works in their favour. The Gerudo, falling just short of half that required strength, face an uphill battle against the fortified defences of Hyrule castle.

The Gerudo, if aiming to starve the Hylians out during the siege, would face disappointment. Unknown to the enemy, there existed a network of secret tunnels, a well-guarded secret known only to the royal family and their loyal Sheikah guardians. These clandestine passages served as a lifeline, extending beyond the castle walls to the outskirts, offering both sustenance and a potential means of escape for the besieged Royal family.

As predicted, the first flaming arrows soar over the southern castle ramparts at twilight. In the distance, bells toll, signalling the urgent mobilization of battalions of soldiers rushing towards the battle fronts. Patches of flames scatter through the darkening landscape of the castle grounds, slowly growing as they claim whatever structures they touch. Scaling ladders are forced back from the castle walls amidst the wave of oncoming arrows from the Gerudo archers. The sounds of clashing metal resonate as soldiers engage the intruders flooding over the battlements. The chaos of war unfolds as the defenders desperately strive to repel the Gerudo onslaught.

Link commands his platoon of fifty soldiers to repel the ladders in the south-eastern quadrant of the castle walls. Sweat pours down his face as he and the soldiers exert themselves to push the heavy ladders backward. Amidst the chaos, Link catches an ominous purple glow in the corner of his eye emanating from the eastern gate. He fixes his gaze through the turmoil of men pushing past him. Shadows seem to be spilling forth from the light, Link pushes his way through the men to get a clearer view.

There, within the city walls, the iron gates still closed behind him, Ganondorf stands alone, unchallenged and unnoticed beneath the stone walkways, a large indigo portal swirling in front of his outstretched hand. While it had always been suspected that Ganondorf possessed magic, power such as this was rarely exhibited or witnessed.

Waves of monsters pour through the swirling purple portal. The smaller, hunched creatures clutch their primitive weapons, while the medium-sized beasts roar orders at their smaller compatriots. The largest beasts, standing 10 feet tall, each carry a battering ram, and their colossal arms make short work of the inner portcullis leading deeper into the city. The smaller beasts swarm over the mangled gate, cutting down the few soldiers who noticed the growing mass developing in the darkness within the city walls.

With most of the Hylian forces distributed to the southern quadrant to combat the scaling Gerudo, their sudden appearance takes the east by surprise. An endless stream of beasts continues to pour forth from the portal as the east quadrant is overtaken, the gangly creatures swarming through the city towards the south.

Link looks to the southern wall; some of the Gerudo forces have managed to take sections of the wall. They would all be trapped between a crushing wall bearing down upon them from both sides without a route to escape.

“FALL BACK! FALLBACK!” he commands to his platoon, “Fall back to market square!” he shouts to his sergeants.

Slowly, his men begin to trickle back, then more and more as the other platoons become aware of the approaching threat. The Gerudo warriors scream victoriously at the sight of the defenders retreating. The southern and eastern attacking forces merge, creating a vile sea of Gerudo and beasts as the defending soldiers are slowly forced back through each checkpoint.

Over the next hour, overwhelmed by sheer numbers and the unexpected tactic, the Hylians are forced to retreat further into the city before finally withdrawing into the castle's keep. The combination of the beast army, Gerudo warriors, and Ganondorf's bombardment of magical attacks wreaks devastation upon Hyrule’s defending forces, leaving them in their final defences.

The once-proud defenders of Hyrule now stand battered and bloodied, their ranks significantly thinned by the relentless assault. Inside the castle keep, the remaining defenders regroup, their hearts heavy with the realization that their situation is dire. The courtyard and outer grounds are now firmly under the control of the enemy, and the defenders are confined to the last bastion of hope.

Link's platoon is redirected to join with Linebeck and his force in the tower's keep in order to defend the king. His platoon, now made up of roughly 30 men was largest group remaining. Some of them have been mildly injured but still capable of putting up a fight, two maimed soldiers are half carried up the keeps spiral staircase as they make their way up to the tower keep.

Along one of the branching hallways from the staircase, Link catches sight of Zelda as she is led away by Impa, her Sheikah Guardian. It’s the first time his seen her since that fate altering night. She is no longer adorned in her regal gowns, but instead, she wears unassuming riding clothes. She is undoubtedly being led to one of the secret exits out of the castle, hidden behind the guise of commoner. As Zelda sees him storming up the staircase, she calls out to him and pulls away from Impa. He ignores her, steeling himself to continue up the tower, determined to see this losing battle through to its end.

Upon reaching the top, King Daphnes is standing outside his chamber's door, sword in hand, ready to fight, despite his advisers' repeated wishes. The two injured soldiers are dragged past him into the room, with Talon joining them.

The other soldiers form a shield around the king. They tensely wait, listening to the events taking place downstairs. Booms reverberate their way up the staircase along with the sounds of steel screeching. Heavy footsteps and yelling make their way up the staircase as the platoon readies themselves.

Hylian soldiers clear into the hall, many of them injured and desperate to escape. Link's platoon clears a path to let them through, with the new force forming a second semi-circle around the king.

The Gerudo are close behind them, swarming up the stairs before sprinting towards them with their scimitars and pikes at the ready. Ganondorf steadily crests the steps as he calmly surveys the scene, a gleaming grin skewed across his face as he brandishes his jagged, massive two-handed sword.

The Gerudo collide into the circle of Hylians, swords flinging wildly around them as they brace against the ever-growing attackers appearing from the staircase, condensing the shrinking platoon. Link parries and ripostes the incoming blows one after the other, his every move calculated, his determination burning bright in the final showdown of the siege.

In the midst of the chaotic battle, Link swiftly brings down two attackers, seamlessly transitioning into parrying an upward strike. However, his keen senses detect a looming threat—the glint of a blade arcing towards the king's vulnerable back. Without hesitation, Link abandons his original parry, freeing his sword to intercept the imminent danger aimed at the king.

The once-deadly strike meant for the king is redirected, its force halved, as Link expertly deflects it with his sword. Responding to the mild impact, the king swiftly spins, driving his own blade through the would-be assailant. Meanwhile, Link's own attacker’s blade finds its mark, slicing open his chin and lip. Fuelled by adrenaline, Link remains oblivious to the searing pain, his hot blood cascading from the wound and staining the front of his green tunic with a darkening patch.

Linebeck issues a final call for retreat, and the remaining soldier’s struggle into the room, desperately holding back the relentless onslaught of Gerudo warriors behind them. Both forces collide, and the chamber’s door becomes a battleground in itself, pushed back and forth between them. With great determination, the Hylian soldiers manage to push it close, clinging to their last shreds of hope as a wooden beam is lowered into place, securing the door.

Outside, the Gerudo forces hammer madly, their swords relentlessly clashing against the solid wooden door. Each strike chips away fragments, a relentless assault that echoes the dwindling moments for the outnumbered and wounded Hylians within. The soldiers count down the seconds, knowing that their final stand is at hand, awaiting the inevitable defeat as the Gerudo’s relentlessly press on.

Silence falls within the chamber as the soldiers grapple with the inevitability of their own demise with the fall of the door. Many of them check over their newly succumbed injuries. Supported by another soldier, Linebeck lies upon the ground, a darkening patch spreading across his chest as his eyes grow cold and distant. Only twenty men are standing now, while at least thirty others lay injured or dying alongside the chamber’s walls. The thick scent of death lingers in the room as pints of blood spill forth from the dying.

King Daphnes surveys the carnage displayed before him as the relentless pounding on the chamber door continues, the enemies' swords thrusting through the splintering wood, inching closer to breaching their sanctuary. He sighs deeply as he comes to terms with the loss before commanding. “Stand down.”

“Your Majesty?” Link questions the king's order, standing as one of the last remaining high-ranking soldiers.

“It’s over,” Daphnes responds hopelessly. “Hyrule is lost. If we surrender, some of you may still make it out alive.”

Link bows his head, accepting the reasoning, knowing he would be among the few who would not survive the night. “At your command, my king."

The king repeats his order, “Stand down.”

Link sheathes his sword, followed by the other remaining soldiers in the room. They restlessly await the Gerudo warriors as they continued to slice through the door, their shadows dancing in the fragmented sections of the door.

The soldiers flinch as the wooden door finally buckles, sending large chunks and shards hurtling across the room. The Gerudo warriors pour in, their threatening chants echoing through the chamber. The remaining soldiers, backs against the walls, raise their open hands in a gesture of surrender.

A scimitar is thrust to Links throat as he is commanded to raise his hands. His sword is ripped from his scabbard before being forced to his knees. The screams of the warriors fill the room as they bark orders at the terrified soldiers.

Among the commotion, he recognizes the Gerudo captain, Nabooru, as she orders the warriors to disarm the Hylians. Their eyes cross paths, she looks him up and down as she identifies him before singling him out with a motion of her hand from the remaining Hylians. He is wrenched upward by his hair and dragged away from the others, stumbling as he tries to regain his balance. Once again, he is forced down onto his knees, this time beside the king and Talon.

Every soldier's eyes widen in terror as a foreboding silhouette enters the chaos – Ganondorf. His giant sword lies sheathed at his side as he scans the room. Nabooru is at his side, talking briskly as she gestures towards Daphnes and Link.

Ganondorf's eyes darken as they find the king of Hyrule before settling on Link, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. The malevolent gaze sends chills down Link's spine, foreshadowing an ominous prelude to something far more sinister than a simple defeat on the battlefield.

**Excerpt from "Hyrule Historia"**

The battle for Hyrule

The pivotal date of February 21st, year 1160 ASE (After Sky Era) marked a significant chapter in Hyrule's chronicles, forever etching the 28th birthday of Ganondorf, the enigmatic King of Thieves, into history. On this day, the intricate tapestry of Hyrule's fate was woven with threads of betrayal and conquest that would ripple across generations.

Ganondorf's name had recently been intertwined with the destiny of Hyrule through his betrothal to the esteemed Princess Zelda the Sixteenth, cherished daughter of the reigning monarch, King Daphnes Hyrule the Third. The kingdom brimmed with expectations of a harmonious union, only to be plunged into a maelstrom of upheaval. A breach in diplomatic accord, the genesis of which remains obscured by the fog of history, ignited the inferno of warfare. Fuelled by a potent blend of wounded pride and righteous indignation, Ganondorf cast aside the treaty and wielded his declaration of war as a weapon against the very kingdom he had ostensibly requested aid from during their time of drought.

The siege that ensued would go down as one of Hyrule's shortest yet most cataclysmic conflicts. With the moonlit sky as their witness, the battle unfolded shortly after twilight, a relentless storm that culminated in a mere three hours. The indomitable Gerudo forces, a fusion of strategic brilliance, mystical prowess, and brute strength, left the Hylian defenders facing an unwinnable dilemma. The prowess of over 600 seasoned Gerudo warriors, joined by a ferocious legion of 200 beasts and aided by the dark magic, rendered the defending Hylian army powerless.

The once-dazzling kingdom of Hyrule was not to emerge unscathed from this ordeal. Over 650 valiant Hylian soldiers perished in the line of duty. Among those fallen were those who had waged fierce battles in an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to re-secure the southern borders in the weeks leading up to the assault.

This swift and brutal display of power sent shockwaves throughout the surrounding realms. The neighbouring kingdoms, quick to discern the changing tides of supremacy, swiftly extended their allegiance to Ganondorf's banner, submitting to the reality of his dominion over Hyrule.

Chapter Text

"Link! Link!" Zelda yells, catching a glimpse of him marching upstairs among the other soldiers. She pulls out of Impa's grasp, attempting to take off in his direction before her wrist is seized by Impa once again. Link's eyes flicker briefly upon her as he pushes on up the staircase and out of view.

"Hurry up, Princess, we must go," Impa implores.

Zelda returns to her senses and stops fighting against Impa before continuing to run alongside her down the hall.

"Faster," Impa coaxes as they round the corner. They reach the end of the hallway, a dark window overlooking the courtyard below, a single sconce lighting a banner of the Royal family's crest.

"Now... What?" Zelda pants.

Impa dives into inspecting the right wall, her fingers tracing the hard stones behind the flowing banner. She finds an engraving the size of a coin depicting a Triforce above a Loftwing, the royal crest. She unsheathes a small blade and digs out the paper-thin layer of mortar around the stone before pulling the false, thin stone block from the wall.

"Get in," Impa demands.

Zelda cautiously leans into the newly opened passageway. At the end of the short stone ledge is a dark, steep drop.

"You can't be serious—" Zelda begins before two hands ram her over the short ledge.

She screams as she tumbles down the steep chute. Somehow, she manages to right herself, her feet and hands grasping at the stone walls, trying to slow her falling descent into darkness. She looks up and sees the light quickly fading above her as the tunnel spirals around itself. She continues to fall into darkness as the wall begins to level out, her backside finally making full contact with the slope. Her body lurches out of the chute and tumbles along the hard stone floor, causing her to scream once again.

She lies in the dark abyss unmoving, her eyes wide open, searching for anything but darkness. Finally, she sees a faint light growing stronger, followed by the sounds of someone else sliding down the tunnel. Impa shoots out of the tunnel, gracefully barrel-rolling along the ground before nimbly rising to her feet. Zelda half-expects her to bow after her feline-like performance, but instead, she pushes on through the darkness, holding the torch up high. Zelda quickly falls in behind her, not wanting to be left behind in the darkness.

The torch's light shines brightly in the darkness, and Zelda catches glimpses of stone blocks engraved with writing and emblems spaced evenly along the passage walls. The freezing, musky air brings clouds from their breath. As Zelda focuses on engraving on stone tablets, she recognizes an ancestor's name.

Rauru Hyrule, the first king and founder of Hyrule.

“Are we... in the royal tomb?” Zelda queries softly.

Impa ignores her as she maintains her focus on scanning their surroundings.

Zelda spots another familiar name, confirming they were indeed in the tombs before continuing, “We must have fallen a long way down to end up this far underground-”

Zelda’s squeal fills the air as a tall figure looming beside one of the sarcophagi flicks into focus.

Impa spins and holds the torch towards it.

Zelda breathes out a sigh of relief as she realizes it's a Haniwa, a life-sized clay figurine. A burial ritual of the Royal family meant to serve as guardians of the tombs.

She stares into its eerie hollow wooden mask; shivers run down her spine. She had never realised how creepy they look, but then again, anything in near pitch darkness could appear terrifying, she reflects.

The light around her begins to fade as she realizes Impa has begun walking away again. Zelda shoots after her, continuing to observe the Haniwa scattered through the tomb, each unique figure sculpted by hand and placed upon a round stone platform beside each sarcophagus.

Zelda's body remains tensed as she scans the area around her. She begins listing what appears in the torchlight in her mind to ease her nerves.

Coffin. Haniwa. Coffin. Haniwa. Coffin. Coffin? She pauses. Two coffins? She turns back and looks in the blank space between the two coffins and the eerily empty pedestal. She gulps before jogging to catch up with Impa once again.

Another one, empty.

She notes that some of the Haniwa forms appear to be affected by the dampness in the air. Their once-dry clay has softened over the centuries, their clammy forms glistening in the light. She reasons that missing Haniwa had simply melted away into clay once more.

Zelda slows to a stop, her eyes tracing the intricate carving of King Daltus’s name on the stone tomb before her. Surrounding her were the resting places of ancestors she had spent her childhood learning about, each name a beacon of their deeds and accomplishments. Their stories had always seemed like an unbroken chain of valor and wisdom, a lineage she was destined to uphold.

She feels a pang of reverence and sorrow, What would be written about her? Would her faults and mistakes be laid bare for all to see, her legacy tarnished by the failures she couldn’t escape? She couldn’t help but wonder if her name would be the last entry in the long, storied lineage of her bloodline, a tragic end to a noble history.

“We cannot linger here, Princess; your foolish father made us wait long enough,” Impa's impatient voice shattered the silence, drawing Zelda back to the urgency of their situation.

“How dare you call my father, your king, foolish,” Zelda retorted curtly, her voice tinged with indignation.

“He won’t be a king for much longer,” Impa implies coolly.

Zelda gasps. “How… You… I.” She fumbles, too stunned to respond.

“Shh. I hear something,” Impa warns.

Zelda takes in a deep breath, preparing to unleash the words she has finally found. Before she, too, pauses as she hears a splattering sound, like mud slapping on a hard surface, emerge from the darkness ahead of them. She holds her breath, listening to the emptiness around them. Only the sound of the torch fire crackling breaks the silence.

After a few seconds, Impa whispers, “We keep going. Quietly,” emphasizing the last word.

They make their way through the tomb once more, nothingness still lays before them. Sometime passes without any other sounds emerging from the darkness. With no end in sight Zelda returns to reading the names of her ancestors on each coffin as they pass by them. "Oomph,” escapes her lips as she bumps into Impa who had abruptly stopped in front of her. The word 'What?' forming on her lips when she sees it.

In the border of the torchlight, in the middle of the path, is a hunched, clammy figure. Its thin, clay-like skin is wrapped taut around its skeletal form, its emaciated chest rising and falling with each long, rattling breath.

It groans as its head slowly swivels towards them, the void like eye holes in its wooden mask seem to stare into her very core as it releases an ear-piercing screech.

The terrifying sound sees her body petrified in place. It continues to moan, holding them in its gaze as it begins to rise. Other groans in the darkness begin to answer its call from all around them as they slowly close in.

“Sing,” Impa commands through tightened lips.

“What!” Zelda blurts as she fearfully watches the creature slowly ambling towards her.

“The song your father taught you. Sing it!” Impa directs.

“What. Which one?” Zelda beseeches. Her eyes focused upon the gangly, skeletal hand reaching towards her as more of them begin to appear from the darkness, their empty sockets locked onto Impa and her. Their groans intensifying to an almost deafening level.

“The one he sung to you every night as a child. NOW!” Impa demands.

Fear clouds her mind as she searches through her memories. What song! She panics unable to recall a single tune or melody. An image flickers into her mind, one of her father sitting beside her on her bed. He is stroking her hair while humming a simple tune as she drifts off to sleep.

He had called it her lullaby, Zelda’s lullaby.

She frantically begins to hum the same melody. Her heart lurches as the creatures closest to her begin to slow their advance, the heads tilting to the side as they listen to her song.

“Louder,” Impa implores.

Zelda’s sweet hum grows louder as the stifling groans around her, along with the slapping squelches of the clay feet come to a stop. She desperately continues, encouraged by the feeling of her body slowly loosening from its frozen stance.

Slowly, one by one, the creatures turn from them and lurk back into the shadows. The initial creature kneels back down to the ground and resumes its foetal position once more. Its gaze lingers on Zelda for a moment longer before breaking its eye contact, releasing her body in the process as it curls in on itself.

Impa looks to Zelda, pressing a finger to her lips. Zelda stops humming as she nervously scans the dispersing creature who seemed to have lost interest in the two outsiders. Impa carefully makes her way past the hunched figure, not wishing to disturb it again.

Zelda cautiously follows behind, her eyes not leaving the undead-like creature until it vanishes from the light's glow. They pass by a few more gangly figures, some are hunched like the first, another curled up on the ground. There are those that just stand there, swaying back and forth, and Zelda’s least favourite, a conglomerate blob of several figures, its lengthened spider-like arms fondling the air around it.

Certain that they have passed by all the horrifying monsters, Zelda asks in a whisper, “What were those things?”

“Redead,” Impa states.

“What?” Zelda questions.

Impa responds shortly as if speaking to a child who asks too many questions, “A Redead. They're a guardian. A spirit bonded to a clay puppet.”

Zelda returns a disturbed expression as she enquires, “A spirit? Who would make such a thing?”

Impa’s cold stare gives Zelda her answer. “Oh… but why? How?”

“Why? Because your ancestors asked us to. How? Are you sure you want to know?” Impa inquires.

Zelda nods uncertainly.

“You saw that wooden mask they wore?” Impa asks.

Zelda nods again.

“It is no ordinary mask. It is carved from wood exhumed from a coffin. With the use of shadow magic, a fragment of the soul within is attached to the wood and over time it reanimates the Haniwa figure. The ritual doesn’t always work as you saw with blank figures. That Lullaby is supposedly sung by your ancestors who inhabit the tomb, a melody passed down throughout the ages. It seems to calm the restless souls enough to pass by them.”

Zelda remains horrified.

Impa continues, “There are many dark secrets the royal family has covered up throughout the centuries. There is a reason why the Gerudo’s have been in conflict with the Hylian’s for so long.”

Zelda looks surprised and shocked by the statement.

Impa goes on, “Have you ever heard of Arbiter's Grounds?”

Zelda shakes her head.

“It now lies lost in ruins in the Gerudo desert. It was taken from the Gerudo, and utilised by the Royal family, not only as a prison but as an execution site for the world’s most dangerous criminals. But when one execution failed, the prisoner was banished into the twilight realm through a mirror. Eventually, the criminal escaped and cursed the areas surrounding the grounds with evil. Before that, it was once a spirit temple of the Gerudo’s, a sacred place of worship, now it's a contaminated place of evil power,” Impa concludes darkly.

Zelda is still too stunned to speak. It was her family's fault the war between the Hylian’s and Gerudo’s began in the first place. And she has rekindled it once again.

As her gaze falls upon the name engraved on the sarcophagus lid, her heart skips a beat.

Hilda Hyrule the Second.

Her mother. A wave of solemnity washes over her as she tentatively reaches out to touch the cold, damp stone casing. She had never ventured down here to pay her respects; the tombs were meant for burials, not for visits. Her mother had been memorialized through the glorious fountain in the castle's courtyard, a distant symbol of the love and loss she had never truly felt.

“There's light ahead!” Impa's voice breaks through Zelda's reverie, pulling her attention away from the past and back to the urgency of the present.

Blinking back the tears that threatened to well up, Zelda focuses her eyes on the dim light in the distance. She spares one last glance at her mother's name, "Bye, Mum," she murmurs softly before turning to follow after Impa, leaving the tomb behind her and pressing onward into the uncertain future.

Her guide pauses at the great stone doors before turning towards her,  “There’s one more thing we need to do.”

Zelda returns a puzzled expression as Impa’s left hand reaches around her shoulder. She turns to look behind her, expecting to see another creature looming behind her. In the blur of movement her hair is seized, her head pulled to side as she struggles against the grip. A silver flash flicks past her side vision before she once again remains control of her head.

Zelda stumbles back, a look of utter betrayal etched into her features as she stares down at fistful of long golden hair clutched in Impa’s left hand and the small blade in her right. Zelda grasps at where her hair once was, utterly horrified as her hand is greeted by empty air.

“The less recognizable you are, the more likely you are to survive,” Impa consoles poorly as she lights the yellow strands in the torch’s flames. She throws the engulfed hair, and it flashes into a puff of bright flames before disappearing completely. Zelda's look of horror only deepens at the sight, the pungent smell of her burnt hair filling her nose.

Meanwhile, Impa extinguishes the torch before pushing the crypt door open and squeezing out through the narrow opening. The door creaks, casting eerie shadows in the moonlit chamber.

Zelda stands in the soft light filtering through the slightly open door, clutching the ragged ends of her new shortened haircut, tears welling in her eyes.

After a few short moments, Impa’s head pops back through the doorway, “Come on out, it’s safe."

She eyes the despondent Princess with irritation before demanding. “It won’t be for long if you don’t hurry up. If we're caught, it will be more than just hair they cut off. NOW.”

The urgency in Impa's voice echoes the harsh reality of their situation as the statement hits its mark. Zelda, fuelled by a mixture of grief and determination, is spurred into action as she uncertainly steps out into the cool night air.

Chapter Text

Ganondorf strides towards the Hylian captives, his eyes finally breaking from Link to confirm the capture of the king.

“You have won, the kingdom of Hyrule is yours.” Daphnes informs before continuing, “I implore you to spare these soldier’s lives as they acted under my command. Under your new rule, they will serve you loyally.”

“Really?” Ganondorf smirks, “We shall see where their newfound loyalties lie then, shall we?” He eyes Link, who hold his gaze, before crossing to the row of unarmed soldiers. Ganondorf paces in front of them, “Who among you will pledge themselves to new king of Hyrule?” He taunts with an air of arrogance.

The room remains quiet, the soldiers hold their heads low, all except one, a hot head young man named Groose. His eyes are fixed upon Ganondorf, and Link knows him well enough to sense that he's on the verge of doing something reckless.

“I will!” Link speaks up, eager to prevent any further resistance and unnecessary loss of life. The room fall silent, all eyes on him. “I will pledge my allegiance."

Ganondorf turns to face Link, raising one of his eyebrows with a mixture of intrigue and amusement before sauntering towards him.

Groose’s face flushes with anger at his lieutenant’s eager submission, he peers at the capturers surrounding him before bracing himself.

“Groose Don’t!” Link urgently calls out in order to intervene, but it was too late, he was in motion.

Groose’s elbow collides with a Gerudo warriors’ knee that stands behind him. He springs upwards, snatching the sword from the crumpling Gerudo. He drives the blade through another that comes at him, the soldiers around him dive out of the way of the falling Gerudo’s.

Groose roars, “I will not be toyed with!” His sword slices the arm of an incoming Gerudo before he continues, “I will die with honour, on my feet."

Meanwhile, the other Hylians kneeling on the ground were clearly contemplating whether to join in.

“You will die a fool, for an already lost cause!” Link retorts from his own knelt position, hoping to dissuade the others.

“Gulley Don’t!” Link snaps as he spots another young soldier raising from his kneeling position. Gulley innocently drops back to his knees as the Gerudo attention is redirected to himself.

Groose grunts in pain as blade slices across his back, his body arches forward as blood gushed from the cut. He turns to swipe at the Gerudo who had delivered the blow before his original attacker forces her sword through his turned back. His momentum halts as he groans in agony, his eyes settling on the sword that had appeared through his stomach. The Gerudo twists her sword before wrenching it out of his body.

Link cringes at the mortal wound before sighing at the loss of another of his subordinates.

Groose’s sword slips from his hand, clattering to the ground before he too crumbles to his knees. The Gerudo flicks his blood from her blade before grabbing Groose’s red hair, holding him in a kneeling position. He chokes and splutters as blood pours from his fearful mouth. She looks to Ganondorf, who in turn nods his approval, then in a single movement, slashes her sword along his neck.

His eyes widen as blood spurts from the red gash; a terrible gurgling proceeds to fill the room. His eyes grow cold, his body limp. The Gerudo releases his hair allowing his ragdoll body to crash to the ground as red pool emerges around him.

Silence fills the room, only the sound of trickling permeates the air. The soldiers closest slowly shuffle away from the growing pool of blood.

“Anyone else wish to die an honourable death?” Ganondorf challenges as the Gerudo’s injured in the surprise are dragged away and treated.

He strides in front of the soldiers again before pointing out Gulley, “Perhaps you?”

Gulley keeps his head bowed, a slight tremble building in his shoulders as Ganondorf lingers over him, his fingers caressing the hilt of his massive sword, deciding whether to make an example of him.

Link watches carefully before deciding to draw attention back to himself once again, “No one else need die. If punishment is to be sentenced, I will serve it."

Ganondorf’s hand comes to rest upon the pommel before turning towards Link with a smirk upon his face and a swagger in his step. He lowers himself to Links ear, “Oh, I plan on it. But not for this.” He whispers savagely before standing upright again. “Your men are lucky to have such a courageous… What was it? Your position?” Ganondorf enquires, his tone much more civilised.

Thrown by the impending threat and Ganondorf's shifting demeanour, Link maintains his chin held high as he cautiously replies, “...Lieutenant.”

“Ah yes. Lieutenant.” Ganondorf repeats, his eyes scanning the row of Hylians. “Not many in your position would offer to take punishment for their subordinates. They must respect you for that.” His eyes flick down to Link whose gaze upon him remains unbroken, Ganondorf grins through narrowed eyes at Links enduring valour, almost accepting it as challenge to be broken before continuing, “You must really care for your men."

He lowers himself to Links ear before whispering, "...Or perhaps a guilty conscious drive’s your motives?”

Link releases a pained breath as his eyes snap close before turning his head away in shame.

“As I thought.” Ganondorf confirms his suspicions, his wide smirk retuning one again.

“Well then, Lieutenant... Link.” He almost hisses the last word. “Do you swear your fealty to me, as the new king of Hyrule?” Ganondorf questions, lowering his hand in front of Link’s face.

Link gazes at the substantial hand, before clasping it in his own, he bends his head low, and recites, "I, Link of the Lost Woods, do solemnly swear my fealty to you, King Ganondorf of Hyrule. I pledge my unwavering loyalty, my skills, and …my life in service to your kingdom. I will uphold the honour and integrity of the crown, protect its people with unwavering courage, and carry out your commands with the utmost dedication. From this day forth, …I am yours, bound by oath and duty."

Link shoulders slump a little lower, knowing that his oath had signified his total submission to King Ganondorf. His head remains low as he awaits the acceptance.

Meanwhile, Ganondorf relishes the moment, taking in the power he holds before idly places his other hand on top of Link’s. “I accept your Oath of Fealty.” He releases the hands, practically throwing them from his own in abhorrence.

Link remains kneeling, waiting for the direction to rise that proceeds the acceptance of the oath.

Ganondorf turns his attention to the other soldiers and queries, “Do any others wish to swear their allegiance?”

Links eyes flick to the door as a Gerudo enters and crosses to speak to Nabooru. He tilts his head trying to pick up the contents of the conversation before shortly realising they are whispering in the Gerudo language.

The Hylians meanwhile, remain silent, their eyes flicking to each other to see who else would take the vow. Link eyes Gulley encouragingly, giving him a subtle nod.

Gully’s eyes remain fixed upon him before dejectedly speaking up, “I will pledge my allegiance.”

Then, one after the other, they all slowly follow suit, their voices blending into a chorus of loyalty and commitment to the new monarch.

Ganondorf smiles with satisfaction as he boasts, “Excellent."

Nabooru approaches Ganondorf, gaining his attentions before leading him away from the line of Hylian soldiers to deliver the update.

“We have searched every inch of the castle, we have so far been unable to locate the Princess." She informs.

Link smiles as he overhears the news; she had gotten away, at least for now that was, but at least she still had hope.

Unfortunately, Ganondorf had also chosen that moment to look past Nabooru, glimpsing Links momentary delight before his face returned to stone.

“Lieutenant, it seems it’s time to test your newfound allegiances. Where is my betrothed heading?” He requests as he moves past Nabooru.

"Only the Sheikah guardian she left with knows her destination. It was a precaution to ensure that even if captured and tortured, no one could reveal her location. ...My lord," Link explains, his words measured and controlled.

Ganondorf's glare drills into Link's very being, searching for evidence of deception or misdirection.

"It is true, not even I know her whereabouts," Daphnes interjects, supporting Links claim.

“We shall see about that,” Ganondorf snarls quietly to the old king before redirecting his attention to Link once again. "When did she leave?" He presses on, his voice edged with impatience.

Daphnes interrupts, providing an answer. "She was sent away this morning, before your arrival at our city walls."

Ganondorf's eyes narrow, his suspicions growing. He turns his piercing gaze back to Link, seeking confirmation. "Is this true?" he demands, his voice laced with a mix of authority and scepticism.

"I am unsure, my lord," Link replies, his words carefully chosen. "I had been kept busy all day with battle preparations," he adds, a partial truth that conveniently omitted his earlier glimpse of Zelda leaving the castle. His expression remaining devoid of any tell-tale clues, his features a mask of neutrality.

Ganondorf continues scanning Links face for any hints of a lie before deciding that the time that she left is insignificant. He turns to Nabooru, “Send out scouting parties to all nearby settlements, offer a reward for her capture. I want her found, and I want her alive.” He asserts.

“Yes, my lord” Nabooru bows before tuning to her subordinates.

“Captain.” Ganondorf interjects, regaining Nabooru's attention. “Have this lot confined in this room until we figure out how to manage them into our ranks. Except these three.” He gestures at Daphnes, Talon, and Link. "Take the old king and his advisor to the dungeons. As for our new Lieutenant, he will be assigned under your command." He lowers his voices, “Do not let him out of your sight.” The last instruction just loud enough for Link to overhear.

Nabooru eyes Link with undisguised disdain, clearly unimpressed with the new burden placed upon her.

Ganondorf’s voice returns to its normal volume, a malicious grin spreading across his features as he addresses Link directly. "Tomorrow morning, I wish to speak with our new Lieutenant. There are a few details I would like to ...whip over with him in our morning meeting." Ganondorf announces, the sadistic undertone not lost on Link.

Nabooru nods her understanding before turning her focus on Link and demanding, “Get up voe, follow me.”

Link conforms and follows after Nabooru, his head tensely swivels from side to side as the towering Gerudo’s warriors file in around him as they trooped through the keep’s halls.

Having turned the corner, out of sight of the Hylian captives, Nabooru abruptly stops. Link skids to a halt, almost colliding into her after trying to keep up with their pace. She turns and orders the closest guard, “Check the Voe, make sure he has nothing concealed.”

The woman harshly seizes his arm and frisks over his body. He grunts and stumbles as he knocked about by her unforgiving investigation as she manipulates his body. He’s forced to remove his boots before she’s satisfied with the search.

“Clear.” The inspecting Gerudo declares.

Link hunches over to put his boots back on as Nabooru instructs her troop, “The Voe is not to be near any weapons, or anything that can be used as a weapon. If he even looks like he is up to something, I give my full permission to use lethal force. Is that understood?”

Link gulps slightly at order as he deliberately slows his movements to finish tying up his laces.

The Gerudo warriors stomp their right foot in unison, a display of their synchronized discipline.

“Good.” Nabooru reiterates before her scathing eyes fall up him, command him to hurry up. He ties it loosely before coming to stand once more.

Nabooru turns and resumes her onwards march, Link jogging between their long strides as he follows them down the staircase to the first floor. He catches a glimpse of the aftermath in the great hall—the carnage wrought by the Gerudo during the final assault. The moans and cries of the wounded echo in the air as they are attended to or, in some cases, mercifully put out of their misery.

Nabooru leads them into the council chambers where the treaty details had been discussed only a month earlier. A few senior ranking Gerudo are already awaiting within, maps of Hyrule splayed across the great oak table, their eyes fixed questioningly upon the small, unrestrained Voe marched between them.

Without a word, Nabooru drags a chair into the corner and signals for Link to sit. He wearily walks past the Gerudo to sit in the designated chair as they take their places at the table. After a few lingering eyes they proceed with the meeting, from that point onwards he is mostly treated as if he didn’t even exist. He can’t help but feel like a misbehaving mutt banished to the corner to be ignored.

As the tension in the room gradually dissipates, he becomes increasingly aware of the acute stinging and pulsing on his swollen lips and chin. The lingering taste of iron in his mouth adds to his discomfort. He tries to distract himself by focusing on the Gerudo dialect, attempting to understand the discussion taking place. Every now and then, he catches a familiar word in Hylian, deducing that they are likely planning how to hunt down and execute the Sheikah tribes.

The Sheikahs loyalty to the royal family poses a threat to Ganondorf's new rule, and finding them could potentially reveal Zelda's whereabouts, Link gathers. Lucky for the Sheikahs, they possess illusionary abilities, combined with their agility and cunning, they would prove without a doubt difficult to find and slay.

As fatigue from the battle and the loss of blood catch up with him, the voices in the room begin to fade. His body slumps against the back of the chair, and his eyes grow heavier. Suddenly, he slips from the chair, jolting awake. His arms and legs flail to stop the fall, knocking the chair over in the process. He manages to catch himself and bolts up right.

The sight of the Gerudo’s half raised from the positions at the table with either drawn swords or hands on their hilts greets his now wide eyes.

“…Sorry. Sorry” he quickly apologises sheepishly; his hands held out in a peaceful gesture. After a few seconds of cold stares, they sheath their weapons and resume.  

Deciding to remain standing, Link weathers the exhaustion and pain, his feet shifting beneath him as gravity seems to grow ever stronger. The voices around him become a distant hum once more as fatigue pulls at his consciousness, ultimately testing his resolve and reliance.

Chapter Text

As Zelda steps out of the crypts, the graveyard beyond slowly materialises in the moons glow. She spots Impa off to the side, hurriedly tightening the girths of two horses tied to a tree beside the crypt. As her eyes continue to adjust the dark environment, her nerves begun to ease as she realises that they are alone. The graveyard located on the northern outskirts of the castle wall seemed untouched by the invasion, even the field beyond the graveyard gates appeared lifeless and dark.

Impa leads the silver bay Friesian over to Zelda before handing her the reins. It shakes its silvery mane and stomps its gigantic fluffy hoof impatiently, a soft nicker rumbles from its chest. Zelda’s notices her recurve bow and quiver are secured to the horse’s saddle bags. She rubs the white strip centred on the beast’s massive head, it pushes back against her and rubs its face against her hand.

“This isn’t my horse” she begins.

“No. Your one is bred for prancing and looking pretty. We need a horse that is brave, nimble, and full of stamina.” Impa informs as she leads her own horse through the dark cemetery.

Zelda follows after, examining the familiar creature walking beside her before questioning, “Wait, is this Links-"

“Yes. It’s the best war horse we have.” Impa states.

“Wont her need her?” She enquires,

“By the looks of the castle, I’d say no.” Impa informs.

Zelda casts a glance behind her to the towering castle walls. The glow of fires lights up the night sky, creating an eerie silhouette against the darkness. The persistent tolling of bells that once resonated through the air now lies silent, leaving an unsettling stillness over the castle keep. Dread fills her stomach as she contemplates a question she isn't sure she wants answered.

Turning away from the dismal sight, she grapples with the realization that her home, her life, is all gone. The dark silhouette of the castle, engulfed in the haunting glow of orange flames, might indeed be the last time she ever glimpses the place she once called home. Will she be condemned to a life of hiding in the shadows of Hyrule, on the run forevermore?

Solemnly she follows her guide through the graveyard to the iron gate. The hinges screech in protest as Impa pushes the gates open, revealing a wide-open field beyond.

Zelda's chest tightens at the sound of a distant wail, the mournful response to the creaking gates. Her gaze hones in on a small, hunched creature hobbling towards them, accompanied by more of its kind emerging from the dark patches scattered across the field.

"Bokoblins. Get on Epona," Impa directs, swiftly mounting her chestnut steed.

Zelda pulls herself into the saddle as Epona adjusts beneath her. The Bokoblins are advancing rapidly, some mounted on boar-like creatures charging straight at them.

"GO!" Impa shouts, urging her chestnut out of the gate and veering left along the iron fence, separating the graveyard and Hyrule Field.

Digging her heels into Epona's side, Zelda urges her forward. Speed gathers with each stride. The cluster of monsters turn to head them off as the boar rider’s close the gaps between them.

Impa set loose her arrow at the riders as they return fire with spears and arrows of their own. A well-aimed shot from Impa brings down one of the boar riders, causing a chain reaction that sends another tumbling.

Epona leads the charge as Impa covers their rear flank from the three remaining pursues. Zelda anxiously watches as the monster’s sprawl before them and their narrowing exit.

Impa's shriek pierces the air as an arrow embeds itself in her thigh. Zelda attempts to turn her body but the heavy galloping almost throws her from the saddle.

“KEEP GOING” Impa implores, setting loose her remaining arrows into another boar, toppling it and crushing its rider. The other two riders’ space themselves out strategically.

Zelda’s heart drops as a formidable wall of Bokoblins, six rows thick, blocks their escape route. The creatures howl and clash their weapons together, the gap between them closing ominously.

“What now!” Zelda calls desperately to Impa, who is already urging her horse past.

“We go through!” Impa's firm voice carries back, taking the lead.

“What!” Zelda cries, but Impa is already out of earshot, whipping her horse’s flank with her bow and charging towards the mass of monsters. An arrow whizzes by Zelda’s shoulder, urging her to catch up.

Impa's chestnut barges into the horde, the smaller monsters crumpling beneath its powerful hooves. The horse flails as its legs are tangle in the trampled bodies. The surrounding monsters, still standing, seize the opportunity to strike with their weapons. It squeals and kicks out at its abusers before finding its footing and clearing a path through the writhing mass.

Zelda grits her teeth and tightens her grip on Epona's reins as she urges her through the chaotic aftermath left behind by Impa. Epona staggers and jolts, her hooves slipping on the uneven surface before clearing through to the other side.

Epona races past Impa as her horse continues to falter and slow. The soft moonlight reflects off the blood trailing from its flanks and legs. The pursuing horde screeches as the boar riders crash through the Bokoblins that hadn’t been fast enough to move out of the way, continuing their relentless pursuit.

Zelda reins in Epona to match Impa’s horse, “Get on!” She pleads.

“GO!” Impa screams her demand before slapping Epona’s rump with her bow.

Epona’s back legs gather beneath her before surging onwards once again. With her rhythm broken, Zelda abandons the reins altogether and clutches herself to the pommel for dear life as Epona bolts uncontrollably towards the forest.

Meanwhile, Impa turns her lagging horse to face the oncoming riders. The approaching boar strikes the horse, lashing up with tusks into the horse's underbelly before being struck in the head by a hoof. The boar crumbles as the horse tumbles over it.

Impa is thrown from the saddle, and she rolls to break her fall, snapping the arrow shaft in her thigh. The chestnut cartwheels along the ground before coming to a heavy thud, where it lays unmoving. The trampled boar pathetically paws the air as its squeals turn to silence, its rider pinned beneath its stocky frame.

Impa groans in pain as she braces herself, her sword raised, as the second rider drives into her. The beast impales itself as the full force of its barrel-shaped body slams into her.

The forest's edge envelops Zelda as the scene behind her disappears from view. She manages a final glimpse through the trunks to see Impa’s motionless, crumpled form as the horde surrounds her. The chilling silence of the forest stands in stark contrast to the chaos left behind, leaving Zelda alone with her mounting fear and uncertainty.

Epona slows to canters as she dodges her way through woods, Zelda takes the opportunity to gather up the reins as she regained her rhythm. They maintain the new pace for a few more minutes before slowing to a trot.

Epona’s chest continues to heave as she recovers from the tremendous amount of ground that she had covered as Zelda searches behind her for pursuers.

Ensuring they were alone, she slaps Epona’s neck appreciably, “Good girl” she praised out of breath. “I think I owe you a whole crate of apples.” Zelda remarks.

Epona whinnies in response.

They maintain a westerly direction through the forest, switching between trotting for twenty minutes and cantering for ten minutes at a time. She rides deep into the night until her body aches and she could go no longer.

She brings Epona to a stop in dense thicket before slipping from the saddle. Her legs crumple beneath her as she falls onto the leaf strewn ground.

Epona’s head swing around, her bright brown eyes observing Zelda as she pulls herself back up using the stirrups. She holds onto Epona’s saddle for support as she listens to forest around her. The soft rustle of wind through the leaves and occasional chirps of insects is welcome relief.

She removes Epona’s saddle and bridle, before hobbling her front legs together so she wouldn’t wonder far. She inspects her saddle bag before unfurling her bed roll. She takes a long draught from her water skin, before poring some into a wooden bowl and holding it out for Epona to drink. She settles into the warmth of her sleeping bag, her eyes scanning the dark woods as Epona’s head lowers to the ground as she crops the shoots and shrubs.

The sounds of undisturbed nature begin to ease her mind as exhaustion unfurls it restful embrace around her. Her eyes slowly flicker close, finding solace in the symphony of the forest. The rhythmic sounds of Epona grazing and the gentle whispers of the wind lull her into a deep, though uneasy, sleep.

Chapter Text

The scrapping of chairs jolt Link from his half-slumbering stance as the Gerudo rise from the discussions table. He looks around in a daze, attempting to gauge how much time has passed, however the windows, veiled in shadows, offer no clues. Shifting from leg to leg, he tries to alleviate his sore muscles to no avail.

Nabooru approaches him through the moving crowd, eyeing him with mild approval for his resilience.

Link, worn and fatigued, meets her gaze with a weary expression from his slouched posture.

"Lead us to the guards' quarters, Voe," she demands, her tone somewhat less imposing than before.

Link steps forward with leaden feet, trudging out of the council chambers. He senses the weight of the Gerudo eyes on his back as they follow his weary form. Glancing out of the castle windows to the city below, he observes that many fires have now been extinguished. Bracing himself against the twisting walls of the staircase, he descends to the ground floor.

As he reaches the guard's common room, the Gerudo brush past him. Regaining composure, he watches in dismay as they empty the contents of the previous guards' belongings from their trunks, claiming the dormitories as their own.

“Voe, where are your chambers?” Nabooru requests.

Resignedly, Link leads her through the common room to the hall of individual rooms reserved for higher-ranking soldiers. He pauses outside his door before Nabooru orders two of her own warriors to remove its contents. He watches powerlessly as they drag not only his trunk from the humble-sized room but also his cot and small wardrobe. His frustration builds as they pull clothes from drawers, piling them on the ground. He cringes as his trunk is opened and tipped onto the floor. His fists clench as they pick through the entirety of his possessions, relieving him of his valuables while throwing the generic, less valuable items back into the trunk.

As Nabooru curiously extracts a pair of small, poorly knitted dolls from the pile, one representing a Princess, the other a knight, Link's breath halts. His eyes remain fixed upon her as she turns them over in her hands with a puzzled expression. There's a momentary pause, a silent exchange of glances between them.

“Not those… please,” he requests earnestly, a trace of vulnerability in his voice.

She regards him with a flicker of understanding, and with a breath of relief, she deposits them back into the trunk.

They weren't just dolls; they were tokens of a connection, woven with memories and emotions. Zelda had made them herself when she first started learning to knit as a child. He could still recall the pride in her smile when he unwrapped them, promising him that one day he would be her knight in shining armour. These small, knitted figures carried sentimental value, treasured fragments of a shared past that now seemed distant.

As the others continue to raid his belongings, Nabooru tosses him a pair of fresh pants, tunic, and undergarments from his piled belongings, followed by a blanket before gesturing him into the barren room. "You sleep there, Voe," she instructs.

Shoulders slumped, he shuffles to his designated sleeping spot. His private chambers now only containing a jug of water and a chamber pot upon its stone floors, Nabooru props his door open before instructing, “Get changed if you want.” She turns her attention to the Gerudo who have begun searching the other individual rooms.

His eyes reservedly flick over the Gerudo in the hall, their occasional glances peeking into his open room as they pass by. Reluctantly, he turns his back to the door, sets down his clothes and blanket before attempting to pull off his chainmail shirt. However, his arms are too fatigued to lift the heavy armour. Instead, he bows and slowly shimmies free of the weighty shirt, allowing it to jingle onto the floor. He observes the countless damaged links, dried blood, and grime coating his mail shirt, realizing the number of close calls he had during the battle.

With a weary groan, he slips off his filthy tunic, exposing his bare torso to the world before hurriedly slipping on the fresh one. Kicking off his boots and socks, he releases the foul odour of his sweat-drenched feet before attempting to modestly undress from his pants and undergarments. The wolf whistling outside his door quickly sees him don the new pair with blushing cheeks.

Groaning, he lowers himself onto the blanket, feeling the cold stone floor seep into his core. He pulls the jug close and sips the refreshing liquid into his parched mouth. He winces as his swollen lips sting from the touch. Wetting the edge of his sleeve, he gently cleans the cut, enduring the pain as the dried blood is washed away, the wound weeping once again.

Curling up on the floor, he wraps the blanket around himself, listening to the sounds of the Gerudo settling in. The aches and bruises make themselves known as his body relaxes. The sounds of those around him quickly fade as his exhausted mind slips in and out of slumber, the thought of tomorrow morning's encounter with Ganondorf looming in his mind.

A sharp kick in his rib’s greats him come first light of morning. The force rolling him onto his side as he gasps for air.

“Get up, your King awaits you.” Nabooru advises indifferently.

Once he finds his breath, he shakily makes it to his knees. The room spins around him as he adjusts to being awake. The hard, cold floor and the developing bruises leave him stiff and crooked.

Begrudgingly he follows Nabooru as he descends into the depths of castle towards the immediate threat creeping ever close with each step.  

He halts as Nabooru holds the door open for him to progress into dungeon, his breath quickening as he prepares himself what is to come. He steals a pleading glance to Nabooru who proceeds to apathetically gesture him in. He takes a shuddering breath and steps into the dim, dank dungeons. The squealing door securing his fate as Nabooru traces his steps.

He glimpses the battered still forms of Daphnes and Talon in opposing cells. His eyes follow them as he walks deeper into the peril, trying to discern whether they were simple unconscious or dead, to no avail. His heart races as his eyes settle upon the two guards standing beside the glowing chamber entrance, instinctual he begins to slow his pace before Nabooru pushes him forward.  

Reaching the chamber and the horrors that wait within, his arms are seized by the Gerudo guards. They drag him into the cell and secure his arms to the wooden structure at its centre, painfully stretching them to their limits as his toes struggle to touch the ground. His tunic is ripped open, exposing his back to the cold, damp air.

Turning his head to the sound of heavy footsteps behind him, he briefly catches Ganondorf in his side vision. Trying to settle his uncontrollable breaths, he swallows deeply in an attempt to restore moisture to his painfully dry mouth. The impending sense of doom hangs heavily in the air.

He involuntarily shivers as the whip’s nine tails gently trickle across his shoulders and down his back. His body waits tensed in expectation, knowing, and fearing what would come next. His fingers wrap around the ropes securing him to his fate, searching for something to bare down upon as the last few seconds of calm agonisingly passes by.

The air is sliced by the whistling of the whip, the harsh grunt of effort and the deafening crack that summons his pained screams. His body bends to the agony; his fists clench tighter, his lip and chin split open and bleed once more as he feels every one of those nine, thin leather strips mark his tender back.

His body shakes in the aftermath as he attempts to find his breath before another lash forces a shriek from his air-starved lungs. His eyes water as his back begins to warm and swell from the developing welts. His chest gasps to fill his lungs before being emptied once more as another slap lands upon him. His body flinches in preparation of the next strike that doesn’t come. He relaxes in the temporary respite before an unexpected lash catches him off guard. He shrieks and inadvertently bites down upon his lip in the process, splitting it wider as the blood begins to trickle freely down his chin to drip upon his sweat-soaked chest. The varying rhythm, toying with him in a sadistic game, attempting to inflict the most pain when his body is unprepared.

His spirit is slowly ripped away from him with each savage strike, his body trembles violently as his breath comes in shallow rasps. His head hangs low before being wrenched backwards by each searing sting. He feels a moment of relief as the rhythmic whipping comes to a halt as the sound of soft footsteps lead towards him. He grimaces as his head is pulled upwards by Nabooru who ensures that he is still fully conscious before the lashes commence once more. He waits in anguish for the anticipated questioning as he his beaten into submission.

Nabooru’s unenthused face continues to great him every ten lashes or so. After a few sets his head hangs limply in her grasp, his eyes filled with a desperate plea to stop. She regards him with an inch of pity as she gradual lowers his head back to his chest before moving away in order for the pain to recommence. His chest trembles as he struggles to suppress the sobs of anguish building within as his body shakes in anticipation of the next strike, pleading, hoping to let the pain end.

The unrelenting torment coursing through his body is almost unbearable. When would it end? Once he was dead? How much longer would it take. He needed it to stop. Needed it to end now. How could he make it stop? He hadn’t even been asked a question to answer.

The searing whip carves into his skin once more, he finds himself no longer able to contain the whimpering and tears that follow.

“Enough… Please.” His voices croaks dejectedly. “I don’t… know… where… she is.” He mutters, hoping the desperation and honesty in voice was enough to make it end. That it was an acceptable answer to an unasked question.

The resounding crack proves otherwise as he crumples under its snap. The tears sting in his eyes, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to make it end. He was at the complete and utter mercy of ruthless King of Thieves. It would only end once Ganondorf was satisfied or until he'd succumb to deaths cool and numbing embrace. This was the punishment for his selfish moment of rapture.

As the torturous strikes endure, his wrists pull excruciatingly at the binds as his body slowly sags, no longer able to find the strength to hold himself up. His body lurches pitifully as each lash tears through his ripped and bloodied flesh. No longer able to tense in order to lessen the pain, his body hangs limply against his restraints.

"Fifty," Ganondorf utters, his voice laborious, as he brings down the lash for the final time. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he pokes his finger into one of the fresh cuts on Link's back, forcing a whimper. "Your little…indiscretion," he says, commanding Link's attention. "Is to remain silent. Understood?" he demands.

Links horse throat frantically croaks “...Yes,” as his body and breath continue to tremble, his head hanging in exhaustion and defeat.

Ganondorf twists his finger deeper into the wound. “Yes, what?” he prompts brutally.

“...Yes... your… majesty.” Link weakly replies between each shallow breath.

Ganondorf removes his finger. “Does anybody else know? Apart from these two.” He gestures towards Daphnes’s and Talon’s cells.

“No. There… dead. My lord.” Link confirms feebly.

“Good.” Ganondorf replies coarsely as he turns away from Link and sets down the blooded whip. He shakes his wrists and wriggles his fingers to regain feeling, he paces before Link, who remains hanging despairingly from his restraints.

“I believe that you may be able to confirm a theory I have on the Princess whereabouts.” Ganondorf states.

Link labours as he reaffirms, “I don’t… know… where… she is-.”

“-Shh shh shhhh.” Ganondorf condescendingly hushes before harshly grasping Link’s jaw, forcing his worn face to look at him. Through an icy grin, he proclaims knowingly, “I don’t need you to speak a single word in order for you to reveal the confirmation I seek.”

Releasing Link's head, it flops back to his trembling chest, where he remains wearily silent and still.

Ganondorf resumes his pacing as recounts with the showmanship of storyteller. “Early this morning, we discovered a woman’s body on in the northern field, adjacent to graveyard.”

Links breath halts in despair, fearing the worst as listens with anticipation and unease.

“Unfortunately, she was unable to be identify, seems some of the beast went rouge and had themselves as feast.” Ganondorf informs callously.

Links weakly grimaces in disgust.

“However, we were able to recover this.” Ganondorf notifies, withdrawing a piece of fabric from the folds of his clock pockets.

Dread, followed by grief fills Links eyes as he recognises the significances of the torn fabric bearing the Crest of the Sheikah. Yet, it wasn’t that symbol alone that set his stomach on edge but the distinguishing mark just below, a diamond split by an arrow. Impa's sigil, Link reflects solemnly.

A pleased smiles slips across Ganondorf’s face he observes Links expression of sorrow. “Ah… you knew her.” He confirms with delight. “Seems she wasn’t the only Sheikah to flee into the night, much like rats scurrying from a sinking ship. There was a second pair of hoof prints accompanying her that lead off into the western forest. The only question remains, whether it was our darling Princess or another Sheikah. We managed to capture two of them fleeing east. A waste of effort really, as I have no use for them being alive, so they have henceforth ceased breathing. Even under the tension of torture, their little vow of servitude would see their heart magically crushed before they can betray the royal family.”

Link frowns at the peculiar knowledge Ganondorf seems to posse, information he was not even aware of or sure even he wanted to believe.

“Nevertheless, the old King of Hyrule and his advisor are under no such restraints. Seems it is true after all, only the Sheikah know where the Princess was being taken. Pity. Although,” Ganondorf’s’ voice shifts to an ironic tone, “I did find it rather interesting to learn that each Sheikah has their own identifying mark, not that those two,” he gestures toward the battered Daphnes and Talon. “paid much attention to those beneath them to recognise who it belonged to. There was one bit of information that they had shared that piqued my interest, however. The very Sheikah in charge of securing the Princesses escape, was also the very same one you trained under.” Ganondorf relays with a widening smirk as Links face drops with the realisation that he had confirmed Ganondorf’s theory.

“Judging by your earlier reaction, I’d say that was her.” Ganondorf denotes with a sly chuckle. He turns his attention to Nabooru, “Narrow our search to the west, send a patrol into Eldin and Necluda, have them search the settlements and villages. If the Princess is intending to seek refuge among the Goron’s, she will be sorely disappointed to learn how quickly the tides of allegiance shifts.”

He cast one last satisfied smirk towards Link who remains despairingly slumped upon the rack. As he exits the cell he pauses and addresses Nabooru once more, “Get him cleaned up, I want him at tomorrows, morning drills.” Then with the swish of his cape, he vanishes down the corridor.

A tear runs down Links cheek, no longer tears of pain and anguish, but grief and betrayal. Without a word, he had just single handily pinpointed Zelda’s last know direction and drastically diminished her chances at survival.

He lurches forward and shrieks as cold water thrown from a bucket harshly courses down his back, the bloody water pooling beneath him. As his wrists are untied, his hands slip from the ropes, and his body plummets to the ground.

He lays there unable to move, crumpled awkwardly on the cold wet ground. His fatigued muscles drained from the unyielding experience as he moans in torment and disarray from the impact. Two pairs of hands scoop under his arms, they half hold, half drag his limp form from the cell, his head lolling to the side as he drifts from consciousness.

Chapter Text

The sounds of the forest stir around Zelda as she restlessly tosses from side to side upon the forest floor. An eerie hush descends over the woods like a sprawling mist before she is startled awake by the crunch of leaves beside her. Her eyes snap open, wide with fear, and she turns towards the sound, only to find herself face to face with the cold steel of a blade at her neck. The figure of Ganondorf materializes above her, his eyes darkening as he takes hold of the sword with two hands. He raises it menacingly above her frozen body before plunging it towards her frantic heart.

Suddenly, she bolts upright, gasping for breath. Her gaze darts around the tranquil forest, searching for any signs of the nightmarish scene that had just played out in her mind. The first light of day pierce through the canopy, casting long diagonal lines of brightness.

The trill of bird calls fills the air, and a soft breeze rustles the leaves overhead. She takes a moment to ground herself in the reality of the waking world. As her senses adjust to the peaceful surroundings, she notices Epona grazing about twenty meters away. A trail of destruction marks the path where her loyal companion feeds on the low-lying vegetation.

She releases a sigh, allowing the tension to dissipate as she gradually composes herself. Slipping out of the sleep bag, she stretches to work out the lingering aches from her time in the saddle and the rough sleep. Her fingers run through the tangle of shoulder length hair, plucking loose debris of leaves and twigs as she shakes off the remnants of the uneasy dreams.

In the quiet moments of dawn, she reaches into her pack, extracting half a loaf of bread, a few pieces of dried fruit, and two strips of jerked beef. She chews on the tough staples, resigning to the simple sustenance it provides. She approaches Epona and offers her the crusts who accepts the treat with gratitude.

With her food reserves depleted, she ponders that wherever Impa was taking her, would have likely been stocked with more supplies. However, she painfully realizes, she has no idea where that destination might be. Now, alone in the wilderness, she faces the daunting challenge of figuring out her next steps.

How am I to survive on my own? Where am I to go?  She had to stay far away from civilisation, that much she knew, she couldn’t risk anyone seeing her. Yet, she couldn’t stay here either, she had to keep moving, she had to keep running. Where to, she didn’t yet know. She needed water that much was certain.

If she recalled correctly from her geography lessons, there should be a stream that cuts through this forest to the north, she only hoped it hadn’t dried up during the drought.

With a sense of direction in mind, she saddles up Epona and repacks her supplies. Determined to put as much distance between herself and the castle as possible, she heads north. The rhythmic trot of hoof beats resonate in the quiet forest as she embarks into the unknown.

As the oppressive mid-day heat settles in, a welcome symphony of running water reaches her ears. Soon, the dense forest yields to the comforting sight of a narrow brook, its waters meandering over a bed of smooth stones. On the opposite side, two rabbits momentarily freeze at her approach before darting away into the scrub. Zelda dismounts, before leading Epona to the stream's pebbly edge, surrounded by tall grasses and reeds.

Epona eagerly drinks from the stream as Zelda, relieved at the absence of pursuers, cups handfuls of the cool water to her mouth before filling her water skin. Satisfied with the reprieve, she eases the girth around Epona's stomach and secures her reins around a sturdy branch. Her gaze lingers on the recurve bow fixed to the saddle pack, and her stomach growls, reminding her of the meagre breakfast consumed hours earlier.

Determined, Zelda retrieves the bow and strings it, testing the cord's tension and the bow's flex. She slings it over her shoulder and fixes the quiver to her waist. Leaping across semi-submerged rocks to the other side of the stream, she positions herself behind a bush, nocking an arrow as she waits silently.

Memories of archery lessons with Link flood her mind, each recollection a nostalgic reverie of their friendly competitions at the shooting range in the castle training grounds. Yet, there were instances far more clandestine and exhilarating. On rare occasions, fuelled by an adventurous spirit, she had stealthily slipped out of the castle. With a mixture of pleading and convincing, she had persuaded Link to impart the art of hunting to her.

He had patiently shown her the delicate art of skinning and dressing small prey, these forbidden adventures carefully concealed from her father's knowledge. The secret forays into the wilderness became cherished memories, offering her rare moments of normality where she could shed the weight of her title and taste the allure of an alternate life. In those stolen hours, far removed from the grandeur of the castle, she found solace in the simplicity of the natural world.

Ten gruelling minutes pass, marked by twigs poking her and insects crawling on her skin. Finally, the cautious heads of the two rabbits poke out from the brush, noses twitching as they scent the air. Gradually, they hop into the clearing, ears fluttering at the rustling of wind through the leaves. Zelda remains perfectly still, bow undrawn, as she patiently waits for the creatures to ease their vigilance.

After a few more cramped minutes, the rabbits, now focused entirely on gnawing through tubers, become oblivious to their surroundings. Zelda inhales deeply, drawing the bowstring to her cheek. She sights her target, exhales slowly, and releases the cord. The arrow twangs through the air, and the rabbits' heads shoot up at the sound. However, it's too late. The arrow finds its mark, slicing through one rabbit's chest, pinning it to the ground. A brief, futile struggle ensues before the creature falls still.

As she pulls the arrow from the ground, the skewered rabbit hangs limply, blood dripping. Link would be proud, she reflects—it was a clean kill. Wriggling the arrow free from the small creature, she inspects the arrow's tip, satisfied that it's still in good condition. She cleans the bloodied tip on the creature's fur before adding it back into her quiver.

Making strategic slices to the flesh, she skilfully removes its skin in one harsh yank. As she begins to dress the rabbit and remove its insides, her stomach turns at the smell. She had done this a few times before, and while it was never pleasant, she had never felt quite this sick. Her stomach fights against her as she hastens to finish the gruelling task.

With the carcass prepared, she pierces it with a sharpened stick, the crunch of its bones tightening her stomach once more. Setting it across a low branch, she rushes to the stream's edge, eager to remove the nauseating smell. Cleaning her hands and knife in the stream, she watches as the blood swirls and disappears into the flowing water. Her stomach turns as her mouth begins to salivate, and she hurries to the nearest tree. Bracing herself against it, she gives in to the retching that follows, emptying her of the little water and sustenance that had filled her stomach.

Spitting the lingering foul taste from her mouth, she tries to catch her breath, anxiously looking across to Epona, who is unconcernedly munching through the cattails growing at the stream's edge.

Inhaling deeply, she attempts to quell the rising emotions within her. "It's okay. You're fine," she exhales, trying to convince herself that the unsettled feeling is merely the result of the stresses from the previous day catching up to her.

"We can do this," she whispers, a feeble attempt to bolster her own spirits. However, despite her efforts to remain resolute, thoughts of what she has lost flood her mind. Tears well in her eyes as she succumbs to the weight of grief. Her home, her father, Link—all lost forever. The very fabric of her existence has been torn apart in the blink of an eye. Her life, once familiar and secure, now stands at the precipice of extinction. She is truly alone, and the burden of isolation settles upon her like a heavy shroud, threatening to crush her spirit.

The reality of her situation hits hard, and she allows herself a moment to mourn the irrevocable changes that have befallen her. The sobs escape, echoing through the silent forest, a testament to the profound loss she has endured. In that secluded clearing, surrounded by the untouched beauty of nature, Zelda grapples with the stark contrast of her inner turmoil. The world may carry on with its usual rhythm, but for her, time feels suspended, caught in the gravity of her grief.

Chapter Text

A soft orange light filters down onto Link's face, and his eyes flicker in response, attempting to block out the intrusion. The light only seems to grow stronger, accompanied by a sharp sting covering the entirety of his back. He becomes aware of the weight of his body and the throbbing ache in his muscles as his chest slowly rises and falls. As consciousness draws him back, he groans in pain, the unrelenting sharp sting mounting in intensity.

Squirming in his face-down position, he attempts to alleviate the pain, only to tense in anguish as the tiny movement sees his torment double. His eyes flicker open, trying to discern why he is experiencing so much pain as his moans continue.

"Don't move; you'll open the stitches," a soft woman's voice instructs from beside him.

He relents his movements, the bright light assaulting his eyes as he remains in his dazed stupor. Blinking back the haze, the blur his of wardrobe and trunk materializes—he's back in the guard's quarters. He notices the plump pillow beneath his head and the soft mattress beneath his aching body.

“You took quite a hiding. You’ve been out the entire day.” The woman voice remarks, “Had to tell Nabooru you would be unfit for duties for a few days.”

Link blinks rapidly, trying to clear away the fog from his eyes. The memories of his time in dungeon begins to resurface as his mind awakens. He feels tightness pulling at his lips and chin, he tenderly inspects it with his tongue, feeling the thread of stitches holding his swollen, split lips together.

“Yeap, that would be my handy work,” the woman comments before continuing, “They wanted to dump you on the floor, but I am managed to persuade them to give you a bed."

Link strains his eyes trying to locate the shape of a person in his hazy vision, slowly his eyes came together, focusing on the charming, young Gerudo woman. There was something different about her aura, it wasn’t stern and callous like the other Gerudo woman, but kind, almost …sweet. He reflects.

Her head tilts sideways as she watches his pupils attempting to focus on her, she smiles warmly as they finally settle upon her, “There I am,” she remarks encouragingly. She raises from the stool beside him, he flinches slightly as she carefully adjusts something upon his back. He hears a crunching crackle before he feels a cool chill flood over his swollen back, easing the burning sting.

“Took quite the bit of convincing to get this.” She remarks as she continues to scoop the chilling substance onto his back. “I even had to get Nabooru involved. Said it was necessary for the healing process. Haven’t seen ice for months since the Anouki halted our supplies.”

He breaths with relief as they the searing heat dissipates. She sits beside him once more before holding a crushed piece of ice to his lip.

He eyes her with utter gratitude before trying to return a weak smile and the words, “Fank oo,” through his swollen lips.

“You’re welcome." She replies before continuing, “Now, no more talking or you’ll ruin my handy work! My names Pyra by the way. I believe your name in our language is the ‘untrustworthy one’, at least that’s what the others said when they brought you to me.” She giggles then sighs. “Perhaps they translated it wrong. I believe your names Link."

He tries to nod but it sends his head spinning. 

She continues, “If that’s correct, then your name would translate to… connector of people.” She removes the ice before dabbing an odious paste onto his lip and chin, causing them to go numb.

Link remains silent and still, basking in the momentary relief as the young woman fusses over him.

Pyra’s voices turns sombre as she informs, “I saw to the injuries of your men in the keep this morning. It was… too late for some. I am so sorry.” Her tone shifts as if it is underscores with frustration and anguish. “I insisted on seeing to them last night but was made to see to the minor wounds of the Gerudo before I could attend to any of the Hylians.”

Link, despite the sadness that fills him at the news of the lost soldiers, can't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for Pyra's help and compassion. He detects a genuine sorrow in her, a burden she carries as if each lost life is a personal failure. In her eyes, he sees not just a healer, but a true embodiment of the title – for her, every life is precious, regardless of its origin or allegiance.

She blinks away the tears before rising, “I have others I must see to. I’ll be back to check on you in few hours, you’ll be ok for the time being just… try not to move until then, ok?”

Link blinks his understanding, she returns a polite smile before gathering her healers satchel. She cast him one last lingering glance before exiting the room.

Alone, Link's eyes shift outside his room to the occasional murmur of distant voices and footsteps echoing through the corridor. The soothing sensation of the ice continues to relax his battered body. As a sense of peace washes over him, his eyes drift shut once more, and he willingly succumbs to the relief of a peaceful slumber.

The distant echoes of drill calls float up from the training ground to the imposing castle parapets, where Ganondorf stands with an intensity that matches the activity below. At his side stands Nabooru, his loyal Captain, whose gaze mirrors the concentration of the soldiers below.

"Any news on the Princess?" Ganondorf's voice rumbles, a low growl underlying his words.

"Nothing," Nabooru replies as she watches over the Gerudo warriors executing their techniques.

Ganondorf's brow furrows as he searches for any glimmer of good news. "And of the Sheikah?" he inquires.

"They're like trying to catch smoke," Nabooru returns, her frustration evident.

"I want her found, Nabooru," Ganondorf asserts, his frustration palpable, tinged with a hint of unease. "and I want them eliminated. It's only a matter of time before she reunites with the Sheikah and begins rallying the rebellion to my demise. I need her under my control."

Nabooru's expression tightens, a mix of loyalty and pragmatism. "Brother, I am sending as many patrols as our numbers allow. I am following the rumours and leads to their dead ends. There are no signs of her. We lost almost two hundred warriors during the siege; we can't afford to diminish our numbers. If I stretch our defences any more than they already are, our hold over the castle will become precarious.”

She pauses, a sly smirk playing on her lips, before cheekily adding as an afterthought, "If it’s any consolation, you may not have to wait for the Princesses rebellion at all. There have been reports of your beasts terrorising the nearby settlements, if the villagers are left to deal with the chaos much longer, they might just stage a rebellion themselves.”

Vexed, Ganondorf tussles his hair as he contemplates his options. With a frustrated sigh, he reluctantly accepts the reality that the chances of finding the princess are quickly diminishing with the growing unrest among the people. “Redirect some of the search patrols to deal with the beasts,” he exasperatedly instructs.

Nabooru nods her understanding before they return their focus to the training below.

After a few contemplative minutes, Ganondorf shifts his focus to a different matter. “Why is our new lieutenant not at the drill?” he questions with mild dissatisfaction.

“He is still bed bound until the end of the week,” she informs neutrally.

Ganondorf sighs with disappointment before suggesting with an amused grin, “Could you not simply… I don’t know, drag him onto the grounds and use him for sword practice?”

“Not now that Pyra’s taken it upon herself to see to him,” Nabooru remarks.

Ganondorf groans at the news.

“You know what she’s like; she can’t help but nurse the injured baby birds back to health,” Nabooru defends.

“Can’t you tighten the leash upon your wife, sister?” Ganondorf sarcastically proposes.

Nabooru returns an unimpressed glare.

Ganondorf playfully rolls his eyes before changing the subject. “How are the Hylians faring in the drills?”

“They have so far been compliant, although I wouldn’t trust them with anything other than the wooden practice swords for now,” she informs.

“Any attempts at desertion or rebellion yet?” he inquires.

“Not yet, but there are a few among them we are monitoring closely,” she relays before continuing, “they need one of their own to lead them, to help them conform. Is that not why you kept him alive?”

“One of the reasons…” Ganondorf mutters coldly.

“Once their King is executed at the end of the week, I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to retaliate,” Nabooru informs.

Ganondorf absorbs the intelligence before responding. “We need him to inspire them for us, not against us. I want him broken and obedient to my command.” Ganondorf voices. “He feels accountable for his men, so we shall use it to control him.” He pauses as he ponders, “I want him tasked with the king’s execution.”

“You can’t seriously think he would go through with it,” Nabooru reasons.

“No, but I want him to learn the consequences of disobeying an order. He will prove his loyalty, one way or the other,” Ganondorf relays coldly. “Keep an eye on the possible deserters; they may have a purpose yet.”

As the days pass, Link begins to regain some strength. His body, once battered and broken, slowly responds to Pyra's care. The wounds, though far from healed, show signs of improvement. The initial sharp pain begins to fade, and he finds himself able to move with less difficulty.

Pyra's gentle encouragement becomes a motivating force. He begins to set small goals for himself, pushing his body a little further each day. The simple act of sitting up for a longer duration, or attempting a few steps around the room, becomes a triumph. Pyra, often by his side, applauds his progress and offers words of support.

A week has passed since the takeover, and he feels the confinement of his room weighing on him. The four corners of the small space have become his entire world, a world he paces as he revels in the ability to stretch his muscles. Though there's a lingering discomfort, the freedom to move is a welcome change after the days spent bedridden.

He smiles warmly as Pyra greats him good morning before inspecting his wounds. Her visits have become a bright spot in his otherwise painfully dull and lonely days. She has a way of lifting his spirits, not just with her skilled healing hands but also with her warm and friendly demeanour. He listens intently as she guides him through light stretches to aid his recovery. Her watchful eyes ensure his wounds don't strain with the gentle movements.

As Link finishes his exercises, he musters a grateful smile, his eyes reflecting genuine appreciation. "Seriously, thank you, Pyra. Not just for me, but for my men too. Your care has made a world of difference."

Pyra chuckles, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, you know, I only do it for the praises."

Link raises an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Ah, so it's all an act? You're just fishing for compliments?"

Pyra feigns guiltiness, placing a hand over her heart. "Guilty as charged. The helping other’s part is just happy coincidence, that’s all."

They share a laugh, the tension in the room momentarily lifted. Pyra continues with a mischievous grin, "You know, you Voe are so much more dramatic about their injuries than Vai. It's like every bruise is a battle scar."

Link raises an eyebrow in mock offense, "Excuse me, I'll have you know we're just more expressive about our pain. It's an art, really."

Pyra nods, a playful glint in her eye. "And out of all my patients, you, Link, have been the worst.”

Link chuckles at the tease. “Sounds like I left quite the impression.”

“Absolutely unbearable.” Pyra continues with an amused grin.

The light-hearted banter between them is abruptly interrupted as Nabooru appears in the doorway. Link's playful expression shifts to a more guarded one, aware of the foreboding presence. Nabooru's eyes flick with restrained irritation over Pyra, but Pyra remains unfazed, returning a challenging smile before efficiently packing up her supplies.

"Play nicely," Pyra whispers to Nabooru as she makes to squeeze past her.

Nabooru responds with a hissed whisper in Gerudo, her glare directed at Pyra. Link stands a little taller, a feigned look of innocence crossing his features as Nabooru gestures toward him.

A brief look of hurt crosses Pyra’s face as she murmurs her sombre, passionate response in her native language.

Nabooru sighs, her gaze softening as she replies. The two Gerudo women share a moment of silent understanding, their eyes lingering on each other in a quiet exchange.

Link, feeling like the topic of their hushed argument, guardedly slips his tunic back on. As Pyra departs, he can’t help but wonder why Nabooru has chosen this moment to appear.

Nabooru's analytical eyes fall over him before informing dispassionately, "Ganondorf wishes to speak with you."

He feels himself tense at the words before resignedly following her out of the guards’ quarters. What did Ganondorf want from him? Why had he kept him alive? Was he finally going to kill him or was there some other sinister motive?

To Links relief, they walk past the spiral steps leading into the dungeons. He follows Nabooru to the throne room and is taken aback as he notes the change in decor. The royal family crest has been replaced by the golden banners and dark brown Crest of the Gerudo, the back of a King Cobra's hood. As he takes in the changes, his eyes fall upon Ganondorf sitting regally upon the throne. His eyes quickly flash away as he finds himself unable to meet his enduring gaze.

As Nabooru ascends the platform surrounding the throne, Link bows his head and nervously awaits.

"Kneel," Ganondorf orders harshly.

Link muffles his whimpers as taught flesh stretches across his raw back as he complies. 

"How's your… recovery?" Ganondorf inquires indifferently.

Link hesitates, choosing a response that walks the delicate line between honesty and self-preservation. "It's... getting better."

"As the first Hylian to pledge themselves to my rule, I have decided to bestow upon you a great honour," Ganondorf announces, carelessly discarding Link's comment. Link frowns dubiously as he keeps his head lowered.

"Tomorrow at noon, you are tasked with carrying out the execution of King Daphnes Hyrule," Ganondorf declares.

Link's eyes snap up in disbelief. "You... can't... be serious."

"Deadly," Ganondorf smirks. "Did you not vow your fealty to me? Did you not pledge your unwavering loyalty to carry out my commands with the utmost dedication? I should like to think that you would not break your sacred oath on your very first assignment, Lieutenant. I loath to think of the consequences."

Link remains silent, his mind racing for a way to escape the order. The memories of his recent torments under the lash are ever-present in the forefront of his mind. Daphnes was to be killed regardless of who carries it out. He reasons. If he complies, at least he could save himself the pain. But at what cost? What would his men think of him if he were to execute their very own king? Yet what choice did he have? This was their life now, serving under Ganondorf’s reign.

Defeated, Link weakly nods his head, accepting the order. Ganondorf grins before waving him away. The weight of the impending task settles heavily on Link's shoulders as he is escorted out of the throne room.

Link stands grimly in the castle courtyard as Daphnes, and Talon are escorted, their hands bound, into the grounds. There is a small gathering of officials, advisors and military officials to witness the private affair.

Ganondorf steps forward from the assembly to announce the proceeding of the executions. "Today marks the end of an era," Ganondorf declares, his voice commanding the attention of all present. "The era of Hylian rule has come to a close. We stand at the precipice of a new age, an age where the destiny of this kingdom is firmly in Gerudo hands. The execution you are about to witness signifies the final act to sever the ties of the past and pave the way for a glorious future under Gerudo rulership."

Link's stomach churns as Daphnes is led forward, a sack hauled over his head, and forced to kneel at the chopping block. Talon watches on, fear etched across his face as he awaits his turn.

Link stands with the executioner’s axe held loosely in hand, his heart pounding in his chest, the realization sinking in that they are about to die because of him, because of his actions. A wave of injustice crashes over him— they are to pay the ultimate price for his own selfishness.

The uncaring voice of Ganondorf commands, "Commence the execution."

Links grasp tightens around the axe, his shoulder blades scream in protest as his delicate skin is strained. He pitifully stands over the hooded man, the weight of the executioner's axe in his hand feels like an anchor, dragging him into a sea of moral turmoil. He had never killed unarmed man; let alone a defenceless, bound one. Link reflects. Daphnes had always been kind to him from the day he was found, he made him his ward when he could have effortlessly discarded him into the nearest orphanage. At some points in his life, he was almost father figure.

Links hands begin to tremble, he looks desperately to Ganondorf, “Please don’t make me do this... Don’t make me do this.” Link pleads.

Ganondorf stares back, cold and unyielding, waiting for the inevitable.

A trembling breath escapes Link's chest as he attempts to grip the axe firmly, but his shaking hands refuse to cooperate. Daphnes had given him opportunities and respect unfitting to his position in life. He had provided him with a chance at something more than his destined fate—a real opportunity at life. He had seen more in him—a potential Captain, a worthy husband for his daughter. And yet, how had he repaid him? Doomed him, his daughter and the entire kingdom. He was indebted to this man. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t kill him, he owed him that much at least.

“I cannot do this, my lord,” Link apologizes, the axe slipping from his hands and thudding onto the grass.

“You have been ordered to carry out the execution. Are you disobeying a direct order from your king?” Ganondorf questions sternly.

Trapped between the physical inability to execute the order and the oath binding him to obey, Link implores, “Please, my lord, I cannot complete the task. Forgive me.”

Ganondorf sighs before gesturing to Nabooru. She approaches Link and snatches the axe off the ground. In one quick, fluid movement, she sinks it into the wooden block. The solid sack rolls along the ground, blood staining its base as Daphnes' body falls over sideways, spasming as the life drains from his neck.

Horrified, Link looks away as his stomach sickens. The headless body jerking in his side vision causes his body to tense as he tries to hold back the tears slipping from his eyes. It was done; there was no going back now. He had just openly refused a direct order, and not only that, but in front of an official gathering. Ganondorf was not going to let his disobedience slip away so easily; he could already feel the skin on his back tingling in expectation.

The next day, Link and a few other Hylians find themselves enlisted to carry Daphnes' coffin into the Royal family’s tomb. The Gerudo soldiers keep a watchful eye on them, well aware of the curses and magic that protect the sacred space. Without the Sheikahs or a living royal family member to accompany them, even the Hylians feared being seen as trespassers. Despite the tension, they swiftly enter the tomb and place the coffin by the door, eager to seek refuge outside once more.

As they hurry towards the exit and the welcoming sunshine, a developing dread begins to well within Link. Was this going to be his punishment? Was he to be locked within its walls and tormented with the curses that lie within?

He breathes a sigh of relief as he is allowed to exit before being separated from his men once again and led back down to his chambers. The unsettling feeling lingers, a silent reminder of the consequences he is yet to meet for his recent defiance.

A few days later, Link was growing nervous; he had still not been reprimanded or even spoken to about his disobedience. There was growing dread building within—what was Ganondorf waiting for? Was he preparing some sort of new torture device just for him? The thought sent a chill down his spine. The unsettling rumour overheard from the Gerudo passing by his open door that one of the men in his platoon had deserted did little to lift his spirits. If the man was caught, there would be another soul on his conscience.

The looming dread comes to fruition the next afternoon when he is once again led into the dungeons. However, this time when he enters, there are no guards waiting to restrain him at the entrance into the torture chamber. The unsettling crack of the whip followed by a weakened groan sends his stomach spiralling. He cautiously peers into the room, discovering a young man tied upon the posts; he had been severely beaten. Nabooru guides him into the chamber as Ganondorf lands another unforgiving slap upon the man’s back. As Link focuses upon the broken man and his blackened swollen eyes, his heart drops as he realizes who it is. Gulley, a mere private in his platoon. Was he the deserter?

Ganondorf crosses to Link and hands him the bloodied cat of nine tails, the very same one that had scarred his back just a week ago. “He has another ten left, finish it,” Ganondorf states coolly.

“My lord, what has he done to deserve such punishment?” Link concernedly asks.

“I do not believe he is loyal to his oath; he would have risen against me if not for your intervention. He is to be punished to quell his rebellious spirit,” Ganondorf continues.

“So… he hasn’t broken any laws?” Link clarifies.

Ganondorf's analytical eyes settle upon him before responding measuredly, “No.”

“Has he not been punished enough for a crime he has not even committed?” Link tries to reason.

“He is a soldier under your command, is he not? It is your responsibility to carry out punishments and reprimand your men. I could always have Nabooru take over for you once again, but I feel she may aim for another few rounds,” Ganondorf threatens.

Link bows his head defeatedly, “As you wish, my lord,” accepting the whip and with it the lesser of two evils.

He weighs the whip in his hand, swirling it lightly to gather the ends behind him. He gazes upon Gulley’s already disfigured form. He raises the whip above his shoulder, gauging his aim before flicking the whip over his shoulder. He groans as the lines carving his own back were pulled tight from the motion as the leather slaps harshly against the soldier's back, forcing him to weakly grunt.

“Harder,” Ganondorf commands.

Reluctantly, Link obeys, his speed increasing on the next stroke.

“Harder,” Ganondorf demands.

Link engages his core as he brings down the whip for the third time, the slap echoes in the cells as Gulley howls feebly in response. A sharp sting courses over Link’s back as his wounds are pulled open.

“Good. Continue,” Ganondorf instructs, giving Link room to carry out the task.

Link's hand grows numb with each pass, his own back aflame once more as the sensation of blood slowly trickles down it. He is panting heavily by the time he brings down the whip once more, not only from exertion but from the overwhelming pain coursing over his back.

“Good,” Ganondorf says smoothly, relieving Link of the whip before crossing to Gully. Link jumps as he slams a dagger into the wooden post above the soldier, “Now kill him." He orders indifferently.

“What! No. His punishment was more than enough," Link argues.

“No,” Ganondorf smiles wickedly, “Now, this is your punishment."

Link's eyes widen as Ganondorf continues, “You didn’t swear an oath to me that night in fear of your own life; you did it for theirs. They needed the motivation, they trust you, believe in you.” Ganondorf grasps Gulley’s face and holds it up. “They would be so disappointed to learn that it was your lust for the princess that had brought them to war in the first place.”

Gulley murmurs at this; it was all he had energy for.

Link looks away, full of shame.

Ganondorf releases Gulley’s chin, and his head lolls back to the side. “Sure, I can physically punish you, but nothing will hurt you more than their suffering. The guilt of the hundreds of dead soldiers weighing on your shoulders?” he taunts. “Thought maybe you could save a few? Lessen your sense of guilt, perhaps, find redemption even?”

The passing comments hit Link hard; it was exactly how he feels, every word of it. His jaw clenches as he breathes sharply through his nose, trying to will away the tears. He tries to control himself, not wanting to give Ganondorf the satisfaction of confirming his allegations.

Ganondorf watches Link closely, his sickening smirk creasing his lips once again. “As I thought. Finish it.” He commands with authority.

Rage courses through Link as he exhales deeply through gritted teeth, his hardened eyes boring into Ganondorf.

Ganondorf smirks wider at the challenge. He had Link caught like a little mouse between his claws, batting and teasing him for his own entertainment.

“Perhaps I should have another one of your soldiers brought down here?” Ganondorf intimidates, breaking the silent confrontation.

“NO!” Link snaps.

Ganondorf raises his eyebrow menacingly.

As Links eyes meet Ganondorf's cold gaze, he knows there is no escape. He's caught in a web of obligations and twisted loyalties. He swallows his rage as he is forced to bend to Ganondorf’s will. For the sake of the soldiers, he adjusts himself through gritted teeth. “No ...your majesty.”

“Then, you know what needs to be done.” Ganondorf ensues.

Every fibre of Link’s being screams against the act he's about to commit as he pulls the ornate dagger free. Despondently, he inspects the intricate embellishments, its hilt a dazzling display of gold accents. The blade, elegantly curved, glints in the flicker of the fire's glow. He knows what needs to be done to protect his men, but the toll it takes on his conscience is immeasurable.

Ganondorf, unmoved by Link's internal turmoil, watches with a calculating gaze.

With a heavy sigh, carrying the weight of his burden, Link gently slides his right hand under Gulley’s forehead, lifting it up to reveal his neck. The unconscious body gives into his gentle handling. He presses the blade against the man’s neck. He pauses as he wills himself to carry out the task as he processes. How many others would suffer because of his disobedience? How many others would die in his place?

Considering Gulley’s condition, it would be an act of mercy to swiftly end his suffering, Link attempts to justify. “I am sorry,” he says through shaky breaths. His eyes slip shut before firmly and swiftly slipping the knife across his subordinate’s neck.

He feels the warm trickle run down his hand, soaking his tunic sleeve as the gurgled breaths rasp in his ear. He cradles the twitching head in his other hand until it falls still. Tears fill his clamped eyes, his breath trembles as he lowers Gulley’s head from his hand. The weight of guilt and despair bears down on his shoulders, breaking him in the crucible of Ganondorf's cruelty.

“Let this serve as a reminder. You are to obey all my commands, understood?” Ganondorf was no longer smirking, his face was dead serious.

Link, still grappling with the aftermath of the atrocity he had just committed, tries to settle his breath. The weight of guilt and the heaviness of despair press on him like a suffocating shroud. He had sworn to protect his men, and now he had just slaughtered one. His eyes remain shut, a mixture of remorse, horror, and self-loathing courses through him.

Slowly, he turns to Ganondorf, forcing himself to open his eyes. They are empty, devoid of the spark they once held. He responds in monotone, “Yes… my Lord.” The words are mechanical, a hollow echo of the man he used to be.

“If you think that running or taking your own life will free you of your oath, I’ll see every. Last. One. Of the Hylians under your command executed. Understood?” Ganondorf's threat slices through the air like a blade, leaving a chilling echo in its wake.

“Yes, my lord,” Link repeats, his voice stripped of emotion and hope. It's a soul-crushing acceptance of his fate under Ganondorf’s rule, a realization that escape is not an option, and defiance would only bring more suffering to those he swore to protect.

Ganondorf's eyes bore into Link with a disdainful mix of disgust and disgrace. It's the look of a predator losing interest in its prey after the initial thrill of the chase, as if the subdued and spiritless creature now caught in its jaws no longer holds any allure. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Ganondorf commands, “Now get out of my sight!”

Chapter Text

Facing his men on the training grounds the next day had been a penetratingly daunting experience to say the least. Their concerned inquiries about their lieutenant’s well-being and his mysterious absence for the past week are met with a defensive wall from Link. He offers a simple response, claiming to be recovering from battle wounds. The ease with which they accept his fabricated tale only deepens the sense of undeserved trust he feels from them.

Pushing aside his feelings of self-hatred, he focuses on conducting the training drills under the watchful eye of Nabooru. His once encouraging and mentoring demeanour replaced by a cold and distant exterior. As he paces before his men, he watches them sternly, his eyes scanning for any flaws in their techniques. Quick corrections are offered, but gone are the patient explanations and the warmth of a leader genuinely invested in their growth. The absence of one young man amongst his soldiers, lost because of his disobedience, weighs heavily on him. As he observes the soldiers executing the drills, the world seems dimmer, the air heavier.

Every step he takes on the familiar training grounds feels like a march through guilt and remorse. The once comforting routine of leading drills now serves as a stark reminder of the lives he's influenced and the pain he's caused. As the drills conclude, Link dismisses his men with a heavy nod, the weight of unresolved tension hanging in the air. The squad of Hylians, now a subdued and minority group, are escorted to their designated guards’ quarters. A section of the dormitories has been set aside exclusively for them, a stark reminder of the division between the Hylians and the rest of the Gerudo forces.

Link, bearing the weight of leadership, separates from his men, seeking solace in the quiet confines of his quarters. A heavy heart accompanies him, burdened by the perception that he is little more than a façade – a carefully crafted illusion maintained solely for the purpose of exerting control over his troops. The charade, a drain on his spirit, leaves him feeling spent and disheartened after each session. His room, with its enclosing walls, transforms into a self-imposed prison, where the echo of his own internal struggles reverberates. The solitude becomes not just a physical space but a manifestation of the emotional barriers he must navigate, wrestling with the burdensome role he plays in maintaining a delicate balance within the diverse ranks of the Gerudo forces.

In the ensuing weeks, the Hylian soldiers find themselves grappling with the harsh reality of their new roles, assigned in a ratio that dictates one Hylian to every two Gerudo soldiers. This stark division, a calculated move to ensure their compliance during the transition to King Ganondorf's rule, only fuels animosity among the ranks. Despite the challenging circumstances, Link manages to cling to his position as Lieutenant. The Gerudo soldiers under his command openly expressed their displeasure, their refusal to follow instructions casting a palpable shadow over the once-cohesive platoon. Nabooru, seemingly indifferent to the turmoil, appeared to encourage their defiance, transforming Link's leadership into a constant battle against internal discord.

In the aftermath of the siege, the influx of Gerudo into Hyrule prompts unease among the Hylian villages. Large parties of Gerudo, once met with trepidation and often resulting in the pillaging of towns, now establish tented settlements on the outskirts. Surprisingly, the Gerudo approach with weapons sheathed, venturing into the Hylian settlements with goods to trade. Some even extending offers of protective services and bounty work, presenting an unexpected shift in the dynamic between the two factions.

The ever-present threat of marauding monsters in Hyrule's fields provide the Gerudo with ample opportunities for employment. They find steady work escorting merchants and travellers through the countryside, acting as a shield against the roaming hordes. Prosperity and legitimate means of income for the Gerudo people play a pivotal role in diminishing the allure of banditry and lawlessness. The thriving trade and newfound opportunities foster a sense of purpose and pride among the Gerudo, leading to the emergence of a stronger and more harmonious society. Breaking away from traditional tribal structures, many Gerudo individuals form families with Hylians and other humans throughout the kingdoms, symbolizing a transformative shift in cultural dynamics.

As the weeks evolved into months, King Ganondorf's rule stretches into its inaugural year, and a surprising transformation unfurls in the relationship between the Gerudo and Hylians. The initial tensions gave way to a semblance of peace and normalcy, marking the advent of a coexistence that sees the kingdom blossom under Ganondorf's reign. The end of the drought, coupled with flourishing trade, facilitated by the unrestricted access between the Gerudo and neighbouring realms. Particularly, the coveted desert plants, renowned for their medicinal and health-altering properties, became highly sought-after commodities in the bustling market.

The once-enforced segregation and the ratio of Hylian soldiers gradually wane as trust and acceptance blossom between the two factions. Even Link, despite initial scepticism, finds his place among the Gerudo. Pyra, his first friend among them, acts as a bridge, helping him forge respectful relationships with other Gerudo women. Link's steadfast commitment to his role and unwavering submission to Ganondorf's orders, shield him and his men from the brutal lash of punishment.

Ganondorf, as an individual, emanated an aura of cruelty and merciless resolve. However, beneath the veneer of his harsh demeanour laid a ruler whose pragmatic governance style effectively guided the kingdom toward stability and progress.

As the years unfold, the unity between Gerudo and Hylian solidify, erasing the former divisions. The outdated ratios are cast aside, and Hylians found themselves rising through the ranks, the spectre of division slowly dissipating. The coexistence under the new rule was not merely accepted but embraced, fostering an environment where both races thrived together.

However, unlike the other advancing Hylians, Link remained confined to his position, denied promotions despite his leadership prowess and formidable skills with a sword. Ganondorf, who, though secretly acknowledges Link's capabilities, refuses to grant him such privileges or reprieves.

Yet, Ganondorf wasn't the sole individual keeping Link at arm's length. Nabooru, while less frosty towards him then before, harboured her own lingering resentment. She had blamed him for the war's initiation and the loss of her Vai in arms. She had also partly blamed Ganondorf for the death of her warriors lost in the siege, not that she would ever admit it. She had implored him to set aside pride for the sake of countless lives, but something within him had shifted or perhaps awakened, an obsession with power, driven by a profound hatred and need for vengeance.

Unlike Ganondorf, Nabooru hailed from royalty, her mother being the Queen of Gerudo. Originally destined to be the Gerudo chief, her fate changed with Ganondorf's birth a year after her own. Without a mother of his own, he was taken in by her mother the queen and raised alongside her.

Ganondorf was intended to be her future husband as tradition dictated, However, when her own ‘interests’ became apparent during their late adolescence, he chose to never pursue it. When Nabooru's mother passed away abruptly, Ganondorf ascended to the throne at the tender age of sixteen. The weight of ruler ship rested upon his young shoulders, a mantle he bore with solemnity. Meanwhile, unencumbered by the weight of queen ship, Nabooru gracefully stepped into the role of advisor, assuming the responsibility of guiding and supporting Ganondorf in the intricate dance of governance. Their relationship, forged in the crucible of shared experiences and mutual respect, evolved into something akin to siblings.

This sibling-like connection granted her a unique vantage point into Ganondorf's inner workings. Secrets and vulnerabilities were exchanged in confidence, cementing a bond that surpassed the usual advisor-king relationship.

However, Ganondorf's rein was not prosperous for all. The Sheikah, once a proud and respected race, found themselves thrust into the shadows, their once honoured symbol now outlawed under the penalty of death. As the authorities tightened their grip, wealthy rewards entice betrayal, leading to a relentless pursuit that takes a toll on their dwindling numbers. The looming threat of extinction weighs heavy on the Sheikah, pushing them deeper into hiding, their survival dependent on the shadows that now both shielded and imprisoned them.

As for Princess Zelda, her name once a radiant beacon of royalty, slowly dissipates into the folds of time. As years unfurl their tapestry, a veil of mystery enshrouds her fate, giving rise to a prevailing assumption that she had succumbed during the tumultuous siege. The absence of her presence drapes the kingdom in a lingering melancholy, leaving behind a legacy of whispers and uncertainty. The last embers of Hylia's bloodline had been extinguished, the final chapter of a once-proud lineage brought to an untimely close, leaving only the echo of a vanishing era in its wake.

Chapter Text

Seventeen and a half years have passed under Gerudo rule, and remnants of the monsters used in the siege still haunt the land of Hyrule. In a final attempt to eradicate these lingering threats, several squads of soldiers have been dispatched to the outer settlements. The Beast patrols face the relentless task of eradicating every trace of the monstrous threats. Their return home contingent on the successful removal of all beasts from the region.

Stationed at the edge of Faron Woods, just outside Lurelin Village, Faron’s Beast patrols have established a steadfast base during their enduring assignment. The two parties, comprising the patrol, take turns scouring the forests for any signs of the lingering monsters.

As the Hylian party returns to camp, they stumble upon fresh monster tracks. With ample daylight remaining, they decide to pursue the footprints. Cresting the sloped woods, they chance upon a lone hunter with their back turned, bow aimed at a young buck in the clearing.

The leader of the party barks in a gruff tone, "These are the king’s forests!"

Startled, the poacher's arrow is released into the woods, along with the fleeing buck.

“Hunting the king’s game is a punishable offense!” the leader continues, his soldiers advancing briskly.

The poacher turns toward the approaching soldiers, spins on the spot, and bolts into the woods.

An annoyed groan escapes the leader as he initiates the chase, his soldiers in hot pursuit. Though the poacher gains a fifty-meter head start, the soldiers, conditioned by daily drills, quickly close the gap. In a last-ditch effort, the poacher vanishes into the thicket of sprawling undergrowth, a mere twenty meters ahead of the relentless soldiers.

"Fan out," the leader instructs, motioning the soldiers toward the dense tangle of brush, their visibility restricted by the tight confines.

"You're only making this harder on yourself!” He attempts to persuade. “Give yourself up now, and your punishment may only be a few days in the stocks-"

An arrow whooshes past his face, prompting a swift spin in reaction to the sound. Growling, he declares, "Fine! Have it your way," drawing his sword; his companions follow suit.

With a command, he signals the soldiers to spread out around the spot the arrow had originated from.

"You only have a small quiver. What, a maximum of twenty arrows? Even if you hit your mark, you will still be short at least two. And I am sure my men will be less reasonable than I," reasons the leading guard.

He waits for a response while scanning the dense thicket for movement. "This is your final chance, before anyone gets hurt!" the leader cautions.

Another arrow glides perilously close, this time eliciting a pained wail as it slices his cheek. Swiftly, he ducks behind the nearest trunk, his comrades following suit.

The mocking voice from the dense bushes rings out, "Woops."

Suppressing his discomfort, the leader inspects the shallow cut. The poacher's marksmanship is undeniably superb, he muses. Gesturing for his men to approach cautiously, they navigate from cover to cover, closing in on the elusive archer.

Emerging slowly from the safety of the shielding tree, the leader sheathes his sword, palms open in a peaceful display, followed by a sarcastic clap. "Very impressive, but now you've just proven that you have no intention of killing."

At least, that's what he’d hoped, he reflects as he boldly advances. His men cautiously manoeuvring between cover, a few darting into the safety of the sprawling vegetation, shielded from the archer's arrows.

Dammit, he's called my bluff, the archer curses internally as the sound of branches snapping closes in behind them. The leader, now unarmed, presents an opportunity. Perhaps getting past him while the others are tangled in the scrub is their only chance at escape before discovery. The archer slides silently between the branches, nocking an arrow into position. They spot a decent-sized rock just off to the left of the unarmed soldier. Pulling the string to a quarter draw, the arrow is released. It leaps silently from the bow and skids off the targeted rock.

The leader ducks and spins towards the sound, drawing his sword in preparation for a surprise rear attack. A moment of confusion flickers across his face before he's alerted by the sound of rushed footsteps behind him. As he twists back, he's thrown off balance as the archer barges into him. Stumbling, he struggles to find his footing, reaching towards the archer to steady himself before tumbling to the ground. The archer trips over the flailing soldier's legs, the momentum sending them flying over the fallen leader.

The soldier abandons his sword and scrambles towards the archer as they rise. He grabs hold of their foot, pulling them back down to the ground. The archer rolls onto their back and kicks violently at the hands, breaking his grasp. The archer scrambles backward on their hands as the soldier, half-risen, leaps towards them. The archer pivots themselves to the side, preparing to roll out of the way as the soldier lands upon their lower half.

The archer bucks furiously underneath the soldier's pressing weight as he clambers over them. Wrestling the arms that lash out at him, the soldier manages to seize the archer's wrist, pinning them to the ground. Desperate to escape, the archer struggles futilely beneath his crushing weight.

"Enough!" the soldier yells, frustrated, squeezing the wrists tighter as he pushes them firmly into the ground. The archer gives one final struggle before submitting to the overwhelming restraint. The soldier eases his painful grip as the both of them, panting heavily from the ordeal, take a moment to catch their breaths.

The rest of the soldier’s swarm around them before the leader pushes himself up from the archer. His surrounding guards quickly snatch up the archer's arms, dragging them up to stand. He retrieves his sword from the ground and sheathes it before approaching the archer once more.

"You would have been - in a lot less trouble - if you had just surrendered in the first place," he says bitterly and out of breath, jerking the hood from the archer's face.

Cold, emerald eyes pierce into his before they fade into confusion as her head tilts slightly to the side, taking in his face.

No, she denies in her thoughts. No, it can't be. He was dead. Ganondorf had killed him. Yet those intense blue eyes were somehow familiar, albeit now full of spite, there was also something different about them. They appeared almost... dulled, hopeless even. She notes his golden hair loosely tied in a messy bun and the short unkempt beard. The beard was unfamiliar though, as was the scar hidden away in it. She reflects. It couldn't have been him. He would certainly not be wearing a crest of the Gerudo upon his sand-coloured tunic. She reasoned.

The commanding soldier is momentarily taken aback by her womanly appearance as she continues to gawk at him. He shakes the momentary surprise from his mind, his expression hardening as he barks, “What! Have I run into you before breaking the law?!”

Coming to her senses, she looks away, “No,” she replies meekly.

“What’s your name, poacher?” the bearded soldier requests bluntly.

“Sheik,” she replies, still avoiding his gaze.

“Sheik? Well then, Sheik, you’re under arrest for poaching in the king’s forest, resisting arrest, and attacking a royal guard of Hyrule.” He then addresses the guards holding her. “We’ll take her back to camp for the night. The mayor of Lurelin Village can decide upon her punishment tomorrow.”

“Yes sir,” they respond to the command, binding her hands with rope before removing her possessions—a bow, a quiver of arrows, a small hunting knife, and a large leather satchel.

The bag is upended onto the ground, releasing various small, illicit game. The leader raises an intrigued eyebrow as he regards the subdued prisoner. “Make sure they're tight; we'd make a pretty rupee for the capture of a black-market supplier,” he remarks casually.

His eyes linger on the outlaw before turning away to gather his bearings. With an adjusted destination in mind, the soldiers form ranks around their leader, and Sheik is forced into the centre of the party as they head back the way they came. The rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath the soldiers' boots feels like a sombre drumbeat, foretelling an unknown fate.

Chapter Text

The chirp of crickets fills the air, announcing the sinking burgundy sun as the Hylian soldiers file into the outpost in the woods. The Gerudo party pauses momentarily, confirming their arrival before returning to their chores. The scent of wood fire and simmering stew wafts across the clearing, the returning soldiers' stomachs growling in response, along with Sheik's.

As she is led into the centre of the camp, the soldiers secure her to a fallen log. As she is left alone, she closes her eyes, a heavy sigh carrying the weight of hopelessness like a suffocating cloak. The rhythmic sounds of boots, the clinking of armour, and the low murmur of conversations form a backdrop to her internal turmoil.

Her eyes reluctantly open, and she watches longingly as the soldiers line up to collect their evening rations from the large cooking pot. The scraping of wooden spoons in bowls becomes a testament to the hunger that echoes through the camp. As the final soldier collects their rations, the Hylian cook dishes up two final bowls. Sheik sits up a little taller, a glimmer of anticipation flickering in her eyes, as a kind-faced woman approaches, holding out a bowl. Sheik accepts it gratefully, the warmth of the food contrasting with the cold reality of her predicament.

As the evening creeps on, the soldiers complete their duties, winding down by the dying campfire before shortly heading off to their tents. All but the lookouts at the edge of the encampment and the party leaders remain.

"So, Aveil, how many did you find today?" the Hylian leader inquires, sitting across from the Gerudo woman on the other side of the flickering fire.

“Fifteen all up, three of which were Moblins. You?” Aveil returns, her gaze steady.

“Only eight. We are tracking another small group when we come upon the poacher,” he gestures towards Sheik.

Aveil's eyes shift towards Sheik as he continues to speak. “She put on quite the performance. We will be taking her into town tomorrow; the mayor can decide what to do with her.”

“I'm guessing she gave you that mark, then,” Aveil gestures to the scratch on his face.

The bearded man nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “She is quite the talented archer. It’s a shame she didn’t put her skills to better use.” Both of them turn their attention to Sheik, who pretends to be engrossed in loosening her boots, attempting to give the impression she isn’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

Aveil stands up, finally looking away. “Since you’re going into town tomorrow, could you pick up some more supplies? We’re running low on rice and grain again.”

“Very well,” he agrees.

Aveil gives him a curt nod. “Well, good night, Link.”

Link! Sheik celebrates as her suspicions are confirmed, a subtle smile spreading across her face.

“Good night, Aveil,” Link replies as Aveil makes her way towards her tent. He watches the dying flames clinging to life before grunting to stand, stomping out the embers. Rolling his shoulders, he crosses the camp to his own secluded tent.

Sheik scans her surroundings for any onlookers, her keen eyes alert to the slightest movement. Fumbling with her bound hands, she reaches into the leg of her boot and extracts a broken arrowhead, its jagged edges catching the faint glimmer of the dying embers. Stabilizing the arrowhead between her boots, she clasps it firmly before deftly rubbing her bonds over the sharpened edge.

Slowly, the rope begins to fray, its fibres giving way to the persistent abrasion. She works methodically, her movements measured, pausing every few seconds to ensure her efforts go unnoticed. After a few minutes, the strands are thin enough to snap. The severed rope slips from her wrists as she cautiously scans her surroundings. She waits for the guards positioned on the outskirts to finish their circuit. With a few minutes before their next pass, she stealthily makes her way towards Link's tent. The shadows of the night cloak her movements as she glides through the camp, every step calculated to avoid detection.

Link enters his tent, methodically removing his boots and then his chainmail. Seating himself at his small collapsible table, now piled with papers, he drags the lantern closer. Scanning through some letters, he scribbles a few responses before pushing them aside to examine the map of Faron. Circling areas they have investigated, he notes the number of monsters they have killed inside each circle. Engrossed in planning tomorrow's route, he measures distances with his compass and traces potential paths.

A soft voice behind him interrupts his concentration. "Link?" The unexpected sound catches his attention.

He jumps from his chair, and it tumbles to the ground as he swiftly spins to face the intruder, a knife readied in his hand. "You! How did you get in here?" he commands, advancing towards the escaped prisoner.

“Link, it’s me, Zelda,” the intruder whispers.

Link stops; his knife still raised. “No,” he shakes his head in denial, an unamused smile carving his features at the cruel jest. Yet he doesn’t continue his advance, instead, he eyes her carefully, taking in the details of her short golden hair riddled with dirt and twigs, and the fine lines etched into the middle-aged woman’s weary face.

“Yes, it is,” she persists with a growing grin.

That smile. He had seen it a thousand times before, mischievous yet playful, one she would only share with him. His knife lowers as his face creases with confusion. “But how?”

“Impa. She sacrificed herself for me to escape,” she recalls sadly. “Oh Link,” she begins, her arms wide open as she strides towards him. “I am so glad to-”

Link takes a step back, the knife in his hand tightening.

She pauses, hurt and uncertainty sprawling across her face. “Link?”

“Where were you all this time?” he asks in bewilderment.

“I hid in the forest for the first few months, never staying in one spot for too long. Occasionally I would visit small ranches during the night for supplies. Then I began to chances trading furs in small villages. Over time, the wanted posters were covered up or taken down as Princess Zelda was forgotten. I started a new identity as Sheik and settled here in Faron a year later."

Anger was building in Link, “It must have been so wonderful to leave everything behind to start a new, carefree life.” He hisses bitterly.

“It wasn’t like that,” Zelda replies begrudgingly.

“Picnicking in the woods while playing hunter. Must have been so difficult for you, Princess,” he ends sarcastically.

“You… You don’t know what I went through,” she argues, insulted, tears welling in her eyes.

“What you went through!” Link explodes, burying his knife in the table before lifting his shirt, revealing the countless scars carved into his back. “Did you suffer through this? Was your disobedience punished through the very people you saw to protect!”

Zelda covers her mouth at the sight of his disfigured back. She moves towards him, reaching out her hand to his shoulder, wanting to comfort him.

“Don’t!” he snaps, slapping away her hand before pulling his shirt back down.

“Link, I am so sorry,” Zelda empathizes.

“I gave myself to Ganondorf, became his puppet, to protect the people you abandoned, to make right what we caused,” Link growls, the words heavy with resentment and pain.

Zelda, her eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and frustration, contests, “And what was I to do, Link? Please tell me.”

"You could have fought against him, led the revolution, claimed back your kingdom. But you chose to vanish instead, changed your identity. You didn’t even try; you relinquished your kingdom into his hands, your people… me,” Link ends dejectedly.

“I had thought about it. I wanted to fight, Link. But I... I—" Zelda pauses, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken secrets and the burden of her past.

“But what!” Link yells, frustration etched across his face.

Tears well up in Zelda's eyes as she struggles to find the words. “I... I just couldn’t risk it, Link."

He shakes his head in disbelief, his voice now a harsh whisper, “The Princess I remember was resilient, fierce, tenacious. You’re not even a shadow of her." He pauses as his eyes narrow upon her, "Get out.” The frostiness in his tone cuts through the air, leaving a palpable tension between them.

“Link, please-” Zelda pleads, her voice tinged with desperation.

“You were never here; you escaped from your bonds and fled into the night. This is the last time I will protect you, Zelda. Disappear into shadows and remain forgotten; it’s what you're good at after all," Link glares, his eyes reflecting a mix of anger and betrayal.

“...Link,” Zelda’s voice whimpers, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders.

“The Link you knew is gone. He died at the battle of Hyrule.” He states sternly, his tone unforgiving. “Now, leave. Before I come to my senses and take you back to Ganondorf myself.”

Zelda’s face trembles, and with a heavy heart, she dejectedly turns to leave.

“Zelda,” Link calls softly, his voice void of emotion.

She turns with a sniffle, her eyes rimed red.

“Your betrothed awaits you; shall we meet again?” He threatens impassively.

Their eyes remain locked in a poignant exchange, grappling with the reality of the transformations they've undergone. Link breaks the contact; he turns and rights his chair before settling into it once again to study his map, signalling the end of the conversation and contact. The subtle rustle of the canvas falling back into place echoes in the silence of the tent. He checks over his shoulder, finding himself alone once more. The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air.

He stares blankly at the map for a few seconds before a surge of frustration overtakes him. With a swift motion, he swipes the papers off the table in anger, the scattered notes and plans fluttering to the ground around him as he stands up hastily, knocking the chair over once again.

Why did he put her first once again? He questions himself bitterly. His pacing intensifies as he grapples with conflicting emotions. Anger, disappointment, and a lingering sense of betrayal cloud his thoughts.

He stops abruptly, clenching his fists at his sides. The tent feels suffocating, the doubt gnawing at him as he questions whether he made the right choice in letting her go.

It's too late now, he reflects to himself, a resigned realization settling over him. She would be gone, slipping back into the shadows of the forest, and he would be left alone to grapple with the ghosts of their past once more.

Chapter Text

"It’s simple, Hilda. I’ll distract him, and you just take whatever you can while he's not looking," the teen boy persuades amidst the bustling market square.

“I don’t know, Knil… last time-" Hilda nervously begins.

“-Forget about last time. Last time I was younger and stupider, I’ve gotten much better,” Knil boasts. “I need you to be able to survive; if something happened to me or mother, you need to know how to look after yourself. You know I wouldn’t ask this of you if it wasn’t necessary.”

Hilda nods half-heartedly in response.

“Now, if he sees you, do you remember where we are to meet?” He places his hand on his little sister’s shoulder.

“Behind the baker’s shop,” they say in unison.

“Good. Now remember, when you're done, don’t run, just walk away; otherwise, you’ll only attract attention to yourself. I’ll get started.” He pats his sister's shoulder encouragingly before heading off into the crowded market street.

He strides past the stalls, analysing the stall owners and the cluster of customers before picking his target. Approaching the busy stall, he browses through the assortment of fruits and vegetables displayed in the cart. He selects an overly ripe-looking peach from an overflowing basket, intentionally squishing his thumb into it as he picks it up.

“Ugghh, it’s rotten,” he fusses, feigning disgust. “You expect us to pay for this rubbish!” He complains, wiping the squished fruit off his hand onto his shirt, grabbing the stall owner’s attention.

“My apologies, good sir, but none of my food is rott’en. 'Tis a peach, not an apple; they soften. Perhaps you are unfamiliar with such … exotic fruits,” the stall holder defends his goods condescendingly.

“Do you take me for a fool? I know what a peach is, and it is rotten. I wouldn’t feed this to my pigs!” Knil criticizes, projecting an exaggerated sense of self-righteous contempt unfitting of his class. Passer byers slow their pace, glancing at the exchange as they eye the goods with concern. The stallholder grows nervous as the exaggerating teen attracts negative attention to his stall, scaring off potential customers.

“It is ripe, ready for eating,” the stallholder protests, picking up a peach before slicing it open. He avidly displays the yellow, fresh flesh within, holding it in front of the young man’s face, determined to prove the quality of his produce. “See, not rotten. Perhaps you are used to having them raw then. I have some hard ones just over here,” the man suggests, turning toward the other side of the stall as he crouches down to reach under the counter.

“Oi, what have you got there!” he yells, his eyes catching the flash of a hand attached to the shifty-looking girl frozen to the spot. He straightens from his half-crouch, spotting his burgled fruit and vegetables bulging from a bag slung over her shoulder.

Knil pushes her away, “Run!” he instructs.

Hilda stumbles before catching her step and slipping through the crowd.

Knil seizes the basket of peaches by the rim as the stall owner swings round, reaching to intercept the basket. Just out of reach, he watches with boiling rage as its contents are tipped upside down, the soft fruit splattering across the ground as the swindling teen makes a break for it.

“You!” The shopkeeper yells at the young man as he pushes his way through the crowd. “Thief!” he bellows frantically, his head swivelling in separate directions after the two crooks. “Thieves! Somebody, stop them!” He howls to the stunned crowd as the young thieves continue to slip away in opposite directions. He turns to his youthful son, who had paused stacking crates behind the stall to watch the scene in disbelief. “Stay here,” he instructs before deciding to pursue after the girl in hopes of recovering his goods.

Knil expertly slips through the bustling crowds, weaving through the market square. He bolts down the thinning street before vanishing into narrow, twisting backstreets. The rhythmic pounding of his footsteps echoes against the walls as he navigates the maze-like alleys, his nimble movements betraying a practiced familiarity with the hidden pathways of the town.

Pausing in the relative quiet of the hidden passage, he catches his breath. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and beads of sweat dot his forehead. His keen eyes scan the other end of the narrow alley, but there's no sign of his sister. Anxiety creeps in. She should have been here by now, he thinks, a knot of worry tightening in his gut as he paces back and forth, his eyes darting between the alleys.

The tense minutes stretch into an agonizing eternity for Knil. He moves to the other end of the alley and cautiously peers into the next street, which remains dismally devoid of his sister. Panic coursing through him, he jogs through the backstreets, tracing the path that Hilda should have taken.

As he rounds the bend leading back onto the main street, he slides to a sudden stop. Spotting a group of soldiers just ahead, Knil instinctively retreats behind the corner of a building. Pressed against the wall, he peers out, warily observing the three guards. One of them has Hilda's arm clutched tightly in their grasp, while another rummages through her bag of stolen goods. The third guard listens attentively to the breathless stall owner, who frantically informs the authorities of the girl's crimes.

"Shit," Knil swears under his breath as he rests the back of his head hopelessly against the wall. His eyes dismally falling to the ground. Amidst the despair, a spark of hope ignites within him as he spots a large stone half-buried in the dirt. Crouching low, he pulls it loose and ducks behind an empty wagon across from the guards and Hilda. Leaning around it, he eyes his target, judging the distance while weighing the stone in his hand.

As he slips out a little further, his left hand rises to his shoulder, preparing to launch the stone. However, before the projectile leaves his grasp, a powerful hand clasps over his wrist, halting his momentum.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice advises, the owner of the crushing grip tightening his hold on Knil's wrist, forcing him to drop the stone.

Knil swiftly spins to face his captor, a surge of desperation guiding his actions as he swings his knee into the soldier’s groin. The soldier groans, doubling over in pain, though the chain mail shirt he wears somewhat softens the blow. Knil seizes the opportunity, prying at the hand still firmly grasping him, pulling away with all his body weight as he remains locked in the unrelenting grip.

“You... Little ... Shit,” the bearded soldier wheezes before retaliating, striking Knil's face with the back of his hand.

A yelp escapes Knil as searing pain reverberates through his face, distorting his vision. He instinctively clasps at his swelling cheek with his free hand, the sting of the blow lingering. The recovering soldier, grimacing in discomfort, drags Knil upright. With a hobble, the man shuffles towards the other guards. Dazed and disoriented, Knil is yanked along behind him, the world a blur of confusion, before being forcefully thrown forward onto the dirt in between the soldiers.

“That’s the other thief,” the stall owner points harshly at the boy as he pushes himself off the ground, only to be seized around his upper arm and dragged upright by another soldier. He pulls against the grip, his glare burning with defiance, before reluctantly accepting his capture as more guards gather in the vicinity, surrounding the disturbance.

“They ought to be punished. Thievin' and destroying my livelihood, they did. The punishment for thievin’s a finger," the shopkeeper persuades, wiggling his pinkie at the guards.

“Sir?” The guard holding the boy questions his superior, awaiting an order.

The commanding soldier looks over the two children secured before him. The girl is clearly frightened, he reflects, analysing her tensed body as her head hangs guiltily low. The boy, however, stares defiantly at him through one squinted eye. A red imprint of his own hand is visible across the boy’s face. His glare hardens as he returns the challenging stare, the pulsing agony between his legs a reminder of their earlier altercation.

Surveying the children before him, the commanding soldier couldn't deny their guilt. The evidence was clear – the girl caught red-handed, the boy displaying defiance rather than remorse. Yet, enforcing the law and upholding justice wasn’t made any easier with their guilt.

With a sense of resignation, he acknowledges the gravity of the situation and the duty that compels him. The decision is made, and he utters the order with finality, "Take a finger from each."

“No! Please!” the girl pleads, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately struggles against her hand being pried from her side by her detaining guard.

“No, it was my idea, I made her do it!” The boy confesses, his voice filled with desperation as he fights against the hands holding him.

The commanding soldier looks down upon the boy, a mix of sternness and conflict in his gaze. After a brief pause, he instructs with a heavy tone, “The boy first,” as he gestures for the soldiers to continue,

The soldiers wrench forward the boy's left hand as he pulls back against them. “Not that one, please, I am left-handed!” he pleads desperately. The guards halt their wrestling, glancing between each other before looking to their leader for advice.

It wasn’t very often that he’d come across other left-handed Hylians like himself, the commander ponders with a contemplative frown. “Take one from the right then,” he orders dismissively.

The boy’s right hand is wrenched from his side and held against a wooden post as he continues to struggle, his expression reflecting the pain that was to follow.

“Um… Sir?” The guards pinning down the boy’s hand address their commander. “This isn’t his first offense." The guard wearily informs, holding up the boy’s right hand, displaying the stump of a missing index finger.

The commander rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration. What started as a simple trip into town for supplies had now escalated far beyond their initial requirements, delving into the harsh delivery of the law. He reflects absently, the weight of his position and the responsibility it carried, heavy on his shoulders.

“Sir,” The guard restraining the boy interrupts his thoughts, “the punishment for a second offense is a-“

“-Yes, I know what the punishment is, Mutoh.” He snaps at his subordinate before confronting the boy. “Where are your parents? Your father?” He requests, searching for an alternative, a parent willing to take punishment for the crime instead.

“Dead,” the boy responds.

“And your mother?” he pushes.

“I …don’t know,” the boy informs, distress peeking through his voice.

The commander strokes his hand down his beard in contemplation.

“He’s a thief!” The shopkeeper complains. “A reoccurring one at that. He needs to be punished. Severely. Otherwise, he’ll do it again and again."

The commander's gaze shifts from the justice-seeking shopkeeper to the pitiful boy. Desperation and remorse seep into the boy’s face, a practiced look that doesn't escape his notice. How many other times had he gotten away with similar acts by mustering empathy from the town guards? Clearly, removal of the delinquent’s finger hadn’t been enough to sway him from his life of crime. It may have only been petty crimes for now, but the boy, on the verge of adulthood, posed a troubling question: would his actions only grow worse with age if he went unchecked?

The commander exhales deeply, the weight of his decision palpable. He shakes his head slightly, contemplating the harsh reality of enforcing justice. "Take the hand," he instructs with a sombre tone.

"No!" the boy protests, his desperate plea echoing in the air as the commander turns his back to the scene, the echoes of the boy's pleas haunting his every step.

Chapter Text

“Please! Please! Not my hand! I swear, I’ll never do it again! Please!” The boy frantically begs, his voice broken, desperate, the sheer terror evident in every word. He fights relentlessly against the soldiers earning additional seizing hands, further subduing his chaotic struggles into contained squirms. He grimaces as the tourniquet is painfully tightened around his lower arm before it is forcefully held down over the thick wooden post. Tears of terror part the dust covering his paling face as he falls silent in shock, his mouth open in frozen horror, anticipating the impending nightmare. A piece of thick leather is crammed between his teeth as the guard positions their claymore over his wrist.

The commander parts his way through the gathering crowd that had swarmed around the scene, drawn to the morbid event that was about to unfold.

The commander jolts, his step faltering, as a loud thwack issues from behind him, the crowd gasping in response. The resounding bulky thud that follows creases his forehead. The noise is far too hefty for that of a severed limb flopping to the ground. He analyses as he rotates towards the sound. His frown deepens as he spots the form of his guard crumpled on the ground, still clutching his sword as blood trickles from an open cut on his forehead. A large, blood-splattered stone rolls along the earth before coming to a stop.

“You coward Link!” a woman’s voice taunts from the parting crowd.

He cringes in response to the jeer; he knew that voice.

“You command the punishment so effortlessly but can't even bare to watch your own sentencing carried out!” The judgemental voice continues before her figure emerges from the gathering, confirming his fears.

“Mum!” the two children shout excitedly, struggling against their capturers.

“Hey! It’s that poacher!” announces one of the guards.

“Sheik, wasn’t it?” adds another.

Link glares at Zelda, his head shaking subtly with disapproval as his armed guards move in towards her. Of cause she had had a family, he thinks to himself. That’s why she had stayed hidden. She had fallen in love, perhaps with a knight in shining armour that had rescued her from harm. They had married and raised their offspring in their countryside manor. The images of her and her mysterious lover cuddling in front of their cosy fireplace, smiling joyfully as they watched their darling children play together, fill him with seething jealous and bitter rage.

“Let them go.” She demands authoritatively to the soldiers holding the children.

One of them laughs before responding, “Who do you think you are? The queen of Hyrule?” He scoffs with mild amusement.

She purposefully locks eyes with Link, a stubborn expression mounting across her features. He mouths, ‘Don’t you dare,’ his body tensing as he struggles to silence the rage boiling just beneath the surface.

She takes a deep breath, her chin held high as she confronts the slowly approaching guards. “I am princess Zelda of Hyrule.” She proclaims assertively with an air of conceit, drawing a gasp from the crowd once more.

The soldiers abruptly stop their advance, bewilderment spreading among them at the unexpected declaration. The idea that anyone of sound mind would dare claim that title, with all the dangers associated with it, seems preposterous to them. Meanwhile, Link attempts to disguise his unsolicited facepalm, turning it into an exaggerated, frustrated tussle of his hair.

The two children exchange puzzled glances, their faces reflecting confusion as they question in unison, “Zelda?”

Meanwhile, murmurs ripple through the bystanders, and words like “The Princess,” “Zelda,” and “Almost two decades” escape the sea of conversation.

“Release them now!” Zelda demands once again. The baffled soldiers look nervously from her to Link, seeking guidance on how to proceed.

Unclenching his jaw, Link steps forward with scathing eyes. “That title no longer holds power over these lands. King Ganondorf is the reigning sovereign of these realms,” he declares bluntly. “By order of the king, Princess Zelda, you are to be apprehended and brought to the court of his royal majesty.” He informs dutifully before addressing his guards, “Arrest her... and bring the children.”

Conversations surge forth from the crowd once again as an unwilling Zelda is restrained. Phrases like "After all this time" and "Here in Faron" echo among the villagers as the guard she had knocked out is dragged away and treated by his comrades.

Link rigidly approaches the now-bound Princess before waving away his guards, seeking a moment of privacy amid the chaos of the surrounding conversations. Subtly, he hisses, “You’re going to regret doing that. It would have been better for him to just have lost the hand. Then you could have gone home and finished living your happily ever after."

She glares venomously at him, “Perhaps I’ve come to face the consequences of my actions. Is that what you wanted to hear? I was not going to stand by and watch them be maimed, Link. You don’t know what it’s like, what lengths I would go to for them. You’ve never had a family you wouldn’t understand-” She pauses abruptly, realising what she was saying.

Link looks sternly away.

“I didn’t… mean it like that.” She corrects herself.

His nose flares as he responds contemptuously, “No, you’re right. I don’t have family. I mean, not all mothers are capable of abandon their helpless child in the woods. Just mine, so thank you, for reminding me.” He growls, stepping away from her.

Zelda steps after him her tone apologetic, “Link, I am sorry-”

“Escort them back to the caravan!” He commands his guards before turning on the spot and marching away.

“Link, please, wait!” She calls after him as he strides towards the gathering of people. She attempts to follow after him but is withheld by the guards once again.

“Citizens!” Link yells over the babble as he heatedly forces his way through the crowd, “You are to depart this area immediately or face arrest for interfering with the application of the law.”

The civilians quickly disburse at the threat, leaving the soldiers to lead their prisoners unhindered through the streets.

“Who did that to you?” Zelda asks her son, staring at the red handprint imprinted on his face.

Knil glares at the leader of the squadron as he leads them out of the town entrance. “That one.” He pauses, trying to remember the name “...Link.”

Zelda’s eyes fall upon Links back as she ponders, Who was this man now?

She turns back to her children as they march unbound beside her, their eyes nervously flickering over the soldiers surrounding them. “I thought I told you to wait at the cabin,” she lectures as they are guided towards the wagon.

“We did.” Knil counters. “But you didn’t come back, and we got hungry. Last time you didn’t come back for days!”

“Until we found you in the stocks.” Hilda adds.

“And besides, you’re Princess Zelda!” Knil notes, outraged.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Hilda questions.

“I did it to keep you safe,” Zelda defends. “The less you knew, the better off you would be.”

The soldiers grip her arm, heaving her up the narrow steps into the wagon before directing the children to climb up. They squeeze between the sack of rice and grain, taking their seat as the guards fold up the rear panel of the wagon before taking up their positions in the procession.

“Wait!” Hilda hollers, rushing to the side of the wagon. The soldiers below brace themselves, ready to intervene if she attempts to leap from the edge and run. “Epona! We can’t leave her here." She instructs, her voice carrying a mix of worry and determination.

Links ears prick up at the name. Epona? His old battle horse?

He turns to face the direction the girl points towards, and there, tied to a post by the towns entrance, stands a shaggy old silver bay. He strides his way towards the creature as it stands half asleep, resting in the shade of a tree.

She stirs as he approaches, she looks at him through one of her big brown bright eyes. He strokes her neck, noting the flecks of silver that now adorn her once vibrant red coat. She pushes her head into his shoulder, rubbing her forehead against him. Link beams affectionately and scratches her white stripe, eliciting a nod of enthusiasm from the old horse. Her grey muzzle sniffs at his tunic, then nibbles at the squished peach remnants on his clothing, a reminder of the earlier encounter with the boy.

"Hey, girl. You're no filly anymore," Link speaks reminiscently to her as he unties the reins from the post. Flicking them over her neck, he tightens her girth and adjusts the stirrups. Pulling himself into her saddle, he settles in before gently pulling the reins to the left. Epona's head lazily swings to the side in response. Link gives her a soft tap with his heels, and she lumbers forward with even strides.

Nudging her again with his heels, Epona reluctantly increases her pace into a clumsy trot. It's evident that it's the fastest she's moved in many years, likely having spent her days carrying heavy loads at a slow pace. Link ponders whether she can still manage anything faster but decides against pushing her. After all, they're both out of practice.

He rides up alongside the wagon, Epona neighs a greeting to the draft horses who respond in kind.

“Hi girl." Hilda addresses her horse with a kind smile. Epona snorts a reply.

“Look after her.” She insists to Link.

He smiles weakly, “Of cause.”

He can’t help but note the childish innocence that radiates from the girls smile. She had no idea of the danger she was heading towards, but then again, neither did he, he reflects with a tinge of uncertainty and unease.

He forcefully banishes his unsettling thoughts, straightening his posture before addressing his men. “Well head back to the encampment first. There we will pack up our supplies then depart for Hyrule castle. Mutoh.”

“Yes Sir?” Mutoh responds.

“I’ll need you to remain at the camp until Aveil returns this afternoon. Inform her of the circumstances then ride out tomorrow morning and meet us along the way.”

“Of cause sir.” Mutoh accepts.

“Alright. Move out." Link instructs, the squadron moving off with the trundling wagon as they followed the dirt road towards the woods once more. The wheels creak rhythmically as they leave the town behind, disappearing into the forest's embrace.

Chapter Text

With another wagon packed full of supplies and gear, the escort departs the encampment just before midday. Link, seated upon Epona, leads the caravan on the one-day journey back to Hyrule Castle. By late afternoon, they stop and set up camp for the night by a serene stream. With a clear sky overhead, the tents are left packed on the wagon. As the soldiers make preparations for the evening meal, the prisoners are fitted with shackles, their chains fixed to the side of the wagon. The horses are brushed and fed, with Link attending to Epona himself, taking the opportunity to look her over and reforge their bond.

The campfires stoked, the simple ingredients of dried beef, herbs, and lentils are added to the cook pot, creating a quick and simple stew. The aroma wafts through the air, eliciting grumbling stomachs and eager anticipation among the soldiers.

As the soldiers collect their bowls and settle onto their bed rolls or the logs of their makeshift seats, Link's eyes drift across to the family propped up against the wagon. He can't help but notice the voracious speed at which the children greedily scoff down the food, it seemed to be their first decent meal in a long time. Observing the scrawny family, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, realizing that Zelda's life hadn't been as idyllic as he once imagined.

While her children fixate on the large cooking pot hanging over the fire, Zelda's attention is entirely on him. Her persistent attempts to catch his attention drive him to set up his bedroll on the far side of camp.

He's still too furious to look at her, let alone entertain the idea of listening to her pleas. Nothing good could come from hearing her out. She would only beg him to release her after all. He had already let her go once; he reflects. Of course, no one knew that he had done it, or that it was Princess Zelda at the time. Still, he had to be careful, Ganondorf was sure to be suspicious. If he doesn’t fully commit now... He pauses, looking around at his soldiers. They would all be in danger.

Having finished his meal, Link hands his bowl to the soldiers on duty for cleaning.

“Is there any more stew left, Piper?” he inquires.

“Sorry, sir,” she responds. “We might have some apples?” she suggests.

“Can you spare two for the children? They’ve been eyeing you off every time you approach that pot,” he requests.

“Of course, sir.” Piper nods.

Link returns the nod before turning away. He pauses, then rotates back to Piper, adding, “It was your idea, okay?”

She smiles knowingly, “Yes, sir.”

He still feels Zelda’s eyes burning into him as he unravels his sleeping bag. Looking at the empty spaces around him, he repositions his sleeping spot, blocking her line of sight with the wagon. Perhaps her icy glare will be lessened through solid objects, he muses.

Zelda’s glare intensifies as she watches Link purposefully disappear out of view. Frustrated, she abandons her attempts and settles against the side of the wagon, her children on either side of her. She turns her attention to Knil, examining the red swelling on his face in the dim firelight.

“Why did that soldier… Link, hit you?” she inquires.

Knil finishes scraping down the side of his bowl before casually remarking, “I …may have kicked him,” his voice drops to an almost inaudible whisper as he sniggers, “in the nuts.”

Zelda returns an unimpressed expression, her arms crossed over her chest. She straightens as the cook approaches with three bedrolls tucked under her arm.

“Here, you’ll need these,” the woman informs, handing them each a bedroll.

Hilda and Knil unravel theirs, discovering an apple hidden within its folds. The sight lights up their faces with a smile. “Thank you,” they respond in unison before eagerly digging into the unexpected treat.

Zelda also expresses her gratitude to the woman, who returns a polite smile before heading back to her chores.

“Mum,” Hilda says through a mouthful of apple, “Why were you hiding from the king all these years?”

Knil nods as he swallows, “Yeah, what happened? The princess- well you, were engaged to him. But then something happened, and he stormed the castle?”

Zelda gazes into their youthful faces, uncertainty rising in her tightening chest. “Um… well. It's… complicated,” she stalls. “I guess because… I fell in love with someone other than himself. He found out and… when he took the castle, I fled.”

“You fell in love with father?” Hilda asks.

“Yes, that’s right,” Zelda confirms.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you were- are a princess,” Hilda states.

“If you’re a princess, does that make me a prince?” Knil enquires.

“Not quite…” Zelda reddens, reluctant to reveal their status as bastards. Under Ganondorf’s rule, they would be seen as illegitimate, disqualifying them from attaining such a title.

“If you were a Princess, then why are we so poor?” Hilda questions seriously.

“I didn’t exactly have much time to grab all my riches while running for my life.” Zelda remarks with a frown.

“Why did you run? What does the king want with you?” Knil asks.

“I am… not sure…” Zelda replies hesitantly, a surge of uncertainty tightening her chest. The knowledge that her capture would secure Ganondorf’s reign unsettles her. She only hopes that after all these years, he might be reasoned with. “Just, be respectful when you meet him, okay,” she adds, not wishing to panic her children.

“Yes mum.” They agree in harmony.

“It must have been amazing to live in a castle. You must have had everything you ever wanted.” Hilda remarks, her sparklingly distant eyes envisioning the fantasized life of her mother.

As memories stirred in Zelda’s mind, a haunting sense of responsibility surfaced—the weight of the future monarch she had been groomed to become. She recalled the days when her soul felt captive, confined to the role dictated by her royal upbringing. It was as if she were a bird trapped in a cage, forced to sing to the tunes of others.

Yet, when she assumed the false identity of Sheik, the lines between falsehood and reality blurred. Instead of feeling like a masquerade, it became a lifestyle of liberation. In the guise of Sheik, she was free to make her own choices, to be who she wanted to be. The cage of royalty was replaced by the open skies of individuality, and the haunting echoes of duty were silenced by the empowering rhythm of self-discovery.

Blinking herself back into reality, she recognizes the expectant looks on her children's faces. They are waiting eagerly for her to elaborate on their preconceived idolization of her previous life, a life she had intentionally kept shrouded in mystery.

"Almost…" she manages a gentle smile, concealing the complexities and shadows of her past behind a carefully crafted façade. She didn't want to burden her children; instead, she hoped they could revel in the innocence and unbridled joy of their youth, untouched by the intricate and often harsh realities that accompanied adulthood.

"Did father live in the castle too?" Hilda inquires, her voice filled with curiosity.

"Yeah, was he a knight? Or even a prince," Knil follows up wistfully.

Zelda's heart tightens at the innocent inquires, a story she has never quite fully revealed, knowledge she is not sure they are ready to navigate. She takes a moment to compose herself before gently steering the conversation away. "I think that's a story for another night," she replies, her tone soft yet firm. "For now, let's get some sleep. We'll be up bright and early with the sunrise."

“But what about-” Hilda begins.

“Hilda.” Zelda corrects with a raised eyebrow.

“Fine…” Hilda mumbles as she claimers into her sleeping bag, Knil following suit.

They bid each other goodnight, the clinking of chains accompanying their attempts to get comfortable in their bed rolls. Zelda watches her children drift off to sleep, their faces peaceful in the flickering firelight. She remains awake well into the night, anxiety gnawing at her as she fears what tomorrow will bring.

Regrets swirl in her mind, the ghostly spectres of different outcomes haunting her thoughts. She replays scenarios, contemplating how she could have navigated them to achieve a better result. Eventually, she reluctantly accepts the harsh reality—there is no changing the past. The moon ascends to its zenith in the night sky when exhaustion finally claims her, pulling her into a restless sleep filled with troubled dreams.

The group resumes their journey a few hours after sunrise, with Mutoh re-joining them shortly after midday. As they cross through the patchwork of farmlands, the imposing tips of the castle towers gradually emerge on the horizon, drawing gasps of awe from the children. Closer still, as the castle looms larger, Zelda's mind is inundated with memories—of her father, grand feasts, friends… Link. They still hadn't exchanged words since her arrest, and any attempt she made to communicate with him had been met with silence or an intentional acceleration of his horse, riding past her as if she were a mere stranger.

As they cross through the opened portcullis into the city walls, the sight of Gerudo flags fluttering above the fortifications serve as a chilling reminder that the castle had long ceased to be her home. The wagon clatters along the cobblestone road before coming to a halt inside the castle's courtyard.

Link rapidly dismounts Epona, handing her off to the stable boy before striding purposefully to the back of the courtyard, ascending the stone steps toward the servant entrance of the castle.

The soldiers briskly usher Zelda and her children from the wagon. A swirl of emotions embraces her as they ascend the stone steps, entering the grandeur of the entrance hall. The once-familiar corridors now feel like an altered reality, Gerudo tapestries and symbols adorning the walls, visually marking the kingdom's shifted allegiance.

Zelda's steps echo through the transformed halls, carrying her past the once-grand Great Hall, now adorned with Gerudo motifs that clash with the traditional Hylian architecture. As they approach the doors leading into the throne room, the atmosphere grows more foreboding. The soldiers signal for them to stop, leaving Zelda and her children waiting in front of the imposing entrance.

With purposeful strides, Link navigates the narrow passageway of the servant corridors, bypassing the bustling great hall kitchen and its melange of scents—a mosaic of roasted meats, freshly baked breads, and aromatic spices. The faint echoes of distant chatter and clinking utensils accompany his journey.

As he approaches the side entrance to the throne room, he steadies his breath, preparing to face the king. With a nod of acknowledgment, the two guards stationed at the entrance grant him passage. The towering columns and rich tapestries within contrasts sharply with the servant corridors he had just traversed. The regal figure of King Ganondorf sits atop the throne, flanked by his trusted captain and advisor, Nabooru.

Link bows respectfully as he reaches the dais, his movements fluid and precise as he awaits patiently for permission to speak.

“So, we have finally found her then?” Ganondorf questions, twiddling his fingers expectantly. “Well done, Lieutenant." He adds, curiously inspecting Link as if weighing his worth.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Link bows once again, graciously accepting the compliment.

“Well then, bring her in." Ganondorf gestures to the guards at the door, prompting them to heave it open. Zelda is ushered in between her guard escort. She musters her courage, standing tall as she makes her way towards the imposing figure of the king.

Ganondorf smiles smugly as she draws closer, “So nice to see you again, Princess Zelda.” His eyes drift over her, taking in her tattered appearance before criticizing through a grinning sneer, “You look… dreadful."

The guards hold out their arms, stopping Zelda at the base of the throne’s platform. She maintains a steady gaze as she quips snidely, “A life on the run will do that.”

Ganondorf chuckles lightly at her daring, finding her boldness amusing. “Indeed. Oh, those won’t be necessary," he motions to the shackles binding her, and the guards promptly remove them.

Ganondorf rises from his elaborate throne, cockily gliding down the dais steps toward the unshackled princess.

“I heard that you were first arrested for poaching in my forests only a day before your recapture,” Ganondorf reiterates, holding Zelda’s unwavering stare as he looks down upon her from his towering stature. He suppresses the slight smile curling his lips, impressed by her stoicism given the situation. “Miraculously,” he continues, shifting his suspicious gaze to Link. “no one recognized who you were or even witnessed your escape.”

Link maintains his neutral gaze across the throne room.

“How is it that she managed to escape, Lieutenant?” Ganondorf presses sceptically.

“She had managed to cut through her bonds, my lord,” Link replies with dutiful detachment.

“With what? Was she not searched?” Ganondorf glares, searching for a hint of deception in Link's mask of impassivity.

"I am uncertain, my lord. Her possessions had been removed," Link recounts impartially.

Mutoh, one of Link's men, steps forward from the guard escort surrounding the Princess. “My lord, if I may?" he addresses the king with a curt dip of the head.

Ganondorf nods, giving him permission to speak.

“My lord, I don’t believe this is entirely accurate. I had come across raised voices emerging from the Lieutenant's tent that night.” Mutoh informs. Link's stomach tightens in response as he attempts to suppress the look of horror seeping into his widening eyes.

“They had been arguing; he had addressed her as Princess Zelda. He informed her that it would be the last time he would protect her before instructing her to escape, my lord.” Mutoh finishes, stepping back into line.

Ganondorf’s intense stare burns into Links core, his eyebrow raising in scrutiny, “Is this true, Lieutenant?”

Links breath catches in his tensed chest, his mind racing for a response, his eyes caught fearfully in Ganondorf’s imposing glare. He swallows the lump in his throat before forcing air into his lungs. He lowers his eyes and bows his head respectfully before conveying his admission with an apologetic tone. “She… had escaped her bonds and made her way into my tent, I did not know of her true identity before then. I’m sorry, my lord, I let a brief moment of compassion get the better of me. It won’t happen again your grace.” Link sinks to one knee, his head held low, seeking absolution for his omission. 

Ganondorf holds the submitting form of Link in his hardened stare, relishing the fear that he musters and the power he holds over his pawn. “See that it doesn’t.” He scowls, his eyes crossing to Zelda then back to Link. “But… I suppose, you have delivered the princess to me. Perhaps I could excuse your… weakness for just this once.”

Link releases a breath of relief, “Thank you, your highness, you are most gracious, my lord.” He flatters before gingerly coming to stand, his neck remaining craned in penance.

The appeasing sight brings forth a satisfied grin to Ganondorf’s leering expression before he turns his focus upon Zelda, “Sounds like you’ve become quite the outlaw, Princess. Poaching. Dealing in the black-market. Attacking a soldier. My, my.” Ganondorf remarks tenaciously, circling her like ravenous vulture.

“It is the life you forced me into.” She replies casually, her eyes sternly following him around her.

Ganondorf pauses behind her, his face leaning in over her shoulder as her whispers superciliously in her ear. “It wasn’t my actions that brought us hear in the first place, now was it, Princess?” He holds her challenging side eye before a movement off to his side catches his eye.

“Who are they?” Ganondorf inquires, becoming aware of the two children standing nervously hand in hand, hidden amongst the surrounding guards.

“They are her children, my lord.” Link informs.

Ganondorf circles towards them as the guards step back to give him room. His eyes drift over the girl as her gaze instantly drops to floor, her shoulders tensing from his scrutinising gaze. He admires her natural beauty buried beneath her squalid exterior as her brother subtly attempts to positions himself between them, partially shielding her upon Ganondorf’s approach.

Undeterred by the boy’s simple attempt, he extends his hand towards her, as his finger graces her delicate chin, a buzz of electricity arcs into his extended digit. Her chin flicks up, a mixture of anxiety and curiosity dances in her ice blue eyes as she meets his gaze. Bemused by the current of energy, he withdraws his finger from beneath her raised chin with the slightest apprehension.

She has it too, he marvels to himself, his head tilting appraisingly to the side as their eyes remain locked in analysis of each other. Had she felt it also?

He breaks his curious gaze away from the peculiar girl, his gaze retuning to Zelda once more. “Such beauty. Surpasses even yours Zelda.” He jeers.

Zelda eyes him icily, his proximity to her daughter and stirring comment setting her on edge.

He glances at the girl once more; he notes with interest that she was still watching him with intrigue. His eyes cross to her brother, an absorbed frown etching his forehead as he looks over the boy. He turns his gaze to Link, then back to the boy, a small smile creases his lips at the astonishing resemblance.

“Guards you may leave. Lieutenant, Captain ...stay.” Ganondorf commands. As the door closes behind the exiting soldiers, he turns his attention back to the boy.

“What is your name, boy?” he asks keenly in a firm, gruff tone.

“Um… Knil. Sir." The boy responds hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact.

"And yours, child?' his tone softening as he addresses the girl.

“...Hilda.” She manages through a whisper; her eyes fixed upon his.

“Your older brother is quite protective of you, isn't he?” Ganondorf queries the girl.

She nods meekly before correcting, “We're... the same age."

“Twins?” Ganondorf remarks in surprise, noting the evident height and maturity differences between them.

“And, what is your father’s name?” Ganondorf continues encouragingly.

“We… We don’t know, sir,” Knil responds uneasily.

“Your mother never told you about him?” Ganondorf prods, his eyebrow raising with a growing smirk. His eyes dart to Link, who remains oblivious, staring stoically straight across the room.

"Only that he had died bravely in battle just before we were born, Sir," Knil answers, his tone slightly suspicious. His gaze follows Ganondorf’s, attempting to discern the silent exchange between master and minion.

“Really? How… touching,” he feigns sincerity to the boy before grinning knowingly at Zelda. She looks away as her cheeks redden with humiliation, painfully aware of what he is unravelling before them.

“And you’re... What? Sixteen years old?” Ganondorf inquires, rubbing his chin.

“Yes, Sir,” Knil responds, gaining confidence from the simple questions.

“Fascinating.” Ganondorf beams, clearly enjoying the drama he was unfolding. His eyes drift subtly to Link, who is suddenly transfixed on the boy, the cogs in his mind slowly rotating as he analyses the evidence.

“So, my dear boy, your birthdays? They wouldn't happen to be this month, would they?” Ganondorf speculates, deciding to shove Link toward the obvious conclusion.

“Last month, Sir. In October," Knil informs.

Ganondorf grins with amusement, watching the realization dawn upon Link's paling face as he gapes dumbfounded at the two children.

He casts a wicked smile at Zelda, who shamefully averts her eyes, blushing the colour of crimson. Ganondorf swaggers up the dais steps before slumping down into his throne. He leans forward expectantly, his fingers tapping on the arm of his chair as he looks between Link and Zelda. A tensed silence lingers in the vast chamber.

With neither of them stepping up, he takes things into his own hands. With a probing smirk, he inquires, “So, should I give the children the good news Lieutenant, or should you?”

Link remains speechless, gawking at the children as their eyes flick curiously over to him at the peculiar question.

Knil frowns at Link, his narrowed eyes growing wider as he pieces the puzzle together before accusing with repulsion, “It’s you! You’re our father! That’s why mother kept trying to get your attention.”

Link gazes despairingly at Knil, the copy of his handprint still faintly evident on the son’s face. “I’m... I am so sorry. I… I didn’t know,” he earnestly apologizes, remorse etched in his every fibre.

Knil turns heatedly to his mother, “You said he was dead! You’ve known he was our father all along!”

“I thought he was dead. Until only a few days ago,” Zelda responds, her voice tinged with apology.

Meanwhile, Ganondorf's eyes flick between them with giddy excitement. A wide beam of pleasure adorns his face, reminiscent of a child whose fantasmical dreams had miraculously materialized all at once.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Hilda questions with a note of betrayal.

“Because…” Zelda pauses before looking to Link, the words he had spoken to her resurfacing in her mind. “The man I knew died at the battle of Hyrule,” she says spitefully, holding him in her icy glare.

Link looks away shamefully, his head held low in self-hatred and reflection. The revelation hangs heavily in the air, creating a tense atmosphere that seems to settle over the entire throne room.

Deciding enough time has elapsed, Ganondorf interrupts their reflections, rekindling the fire. “Ah, family reunions, never a dull moment, is there?” He asks of no one in particular, his folded hands betraying the delight that surges within him before continuing. “Did you at least tell them why I took Hyrule, Princess?”

Knil jumps in, his irritation palpable at being kept in the dark, “She said it was because you were jealous. Because she fell in love with him and not you.”

“Not quite,” Ganondorf amends, his voice dripping with disdain as he recounts with theatricality, “I arrived in Hyrule a desperate man, seeking aid from those we considered enemies so that my people might survive. There was, however, one consolation – the magnificent, witty Princess Zelda, was promised to become my bride. Your mother played her part well, I will admit," he remarks resentfully. "Even I had been deluded into believing that perhaps the longstanding enmity between our people could be set aside, that our union would bring about a unification of the kingdoms.” Ganondorf recounts with an air of reflection and hopefulness, though a bitter undertone lurks beneath.

His tone shifts, turning icy and spiteful. “The alliance, however, clearly meant nothing to her. I discovered my betrothed conceiving you two only a day after my proposal.”

Knil shakes his head in disappointment at his mother, while Hilda retains a look of bewilderment.

Ganondorf proceeds condescendingly, “They thought me weak, a pathetic simpleton who could be humiliated and taken advantage of. They believed that I would just willingly roll over onto my back as they stripped away my dignity. I led with peace, but the price of my people’s pride was not one that I would pay. So,” he pauses, summoning glowing spheres of violet energy in his palms, “they soon learnt of my true strength, the powers I possessed."

His gaze drifts across to Hilda, a hint of a smile tweaking the corner of his mouth as he recognizes the fascination and interest reflected in her eyes, captivated by his unique and extraordinary abilities. Meanwhile, her brother takes a step backward, his eyes wide in terror.

“Now I rule the most powerful kingdom on this continent,” he muses with satisfaction.

With resolve, Zelda steps towards him, “I was in love!” She professes in an attempt to salvage her repute. “That's all it was; there was no underlying message intending to humiliate you. Perhaps if you had ever known love, you would have understood.”

A small twitch flickers through Ganondorf’s left eye. His persistent, arrogant smirk vanishes instantaneously as his nose flares with suppressed indignation. His fists clench, crushing the orbs within them before they splutter out of existence. He rises like a shadow from his throne, his movement slow and deliberate, his foreboding aura blanketing the room.

Cautiously, Zelda takes a step back, her eyes flicking apprehensively, realizing she had gone too far as Ganondorf descends upon her like a suppressing shroud.

His hooked nose lingers menacingly close to hers as she leans away instinctively. Before she can retreat further, his arm envelops her lower waist, pulling her back in, reaffirming his authority. “Perhaps you're right, Princess,” he agrees contemptuously, his hot breath coursing across her cheek. She gingerly averts her eyes from his intense gaze, her tensed body straining against his fortifying arm.

“Perhaps… you, could show me what love is?” He incites smoothly, cradling her face with a tender caress. She grimaces in repulsion, attempting to turn away from his suggestive advances before he draws her face back towards his. His covetous gaze unrelenting, his fingers slide provocatively down her cheek as he quires with false disappointment, “No?”

Zelda maintains her downwards gaze, her breath shallow in her chest as he finally relinquishes his hold over her personal space. His gaze drifts to her adolescent daughter just beyond her, a cruel, vindictive glint in his eyes as they latch onto Hilda.

His cape swirls behind him as he advances towards her with a snarling sneer. “Or perhaps… the younger and improved model could?” he suggests lasciviously, his side eye trained on Zelda’s faltering resolve as he reaches a taunting hand towards Hilda’s.

“Don’t you dare!” Zelda snaps, pursuing after him to slap away his hand. Anticipating her action, he swivels and catches her wrist. She struggles under his grip, attempting to slip out of his grasp.

“Now, now, Princess, don’t make me regret removing your chains,” Ganondorf tantalizes, taking satisfaction in uncovering her weaknesses, a potential means of breaking and controlling her.

Zelda’s eyes flick pleadingly to Link as she grimaces in pain from the crushing grip. Ganondorf follows her line of sight, narrowing his oppressive glare on Link, who reluctantly comes to advert his forlorn gaze. Desolate and hopeless, Zelda stops fighting, relenting to his grip.

Ganondorf leers over her before callously hissing in her ear. “He's not yours anymore. He belongs to me.”

He eases his grip, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper audible only to her, as the room waits with bated breath. "As amusing as your boldness was at first, my patience is wearing thin. You seem to have forgotten your place, Princess, so let me remind you of the severity of the situation you have found yourself in.

You and your children are at the whims of my fleeting mercy. Should you find yourself incapable of holding your tongue, I will be all too willing to arrange its removal. Make another move like that, and you'll swiftly learn how unbearable the remainder of your brief and insignificant existence can truly be." Ganondorf's words hang in the air, a chilling reminder of the power he wields and the dire consequences that await any defiance.

He allows the threat to sink in before throwing down her hands. "Are we at an understanding, Princess?"

Zelda nods ever so slightly as she rolls her aching wrist.

"That's a good girl," he praises condescendingly, roughly patting the top of her head as if she were a subservient pet.

Zelda grimaces in response, her eyes flashing with suppressed anger and humiliation as she is left with no other choice than to accept the demeaning treatment.

"Perhaps I will recall to feed you after all," he adds with an amused afterthought. “Guards!” he yells, summoning them into the room once more. “Take our… Princess,” he sneers, “to her old quarters. She is to be detained there until further notice,” he commands before addressing Zelda once more. "As for your children,” His gaze hovers over Hilda, “well, I should like to get to know your daughter a little better. Who knows, perhaps we’ll share ...a common interest."

Knil protectively drapes his arm around his sister, drawing her closer as the guards apprehend their mother's arms.

She futilely writhes against them as she is separated from her frightened children. “Ganondorf, please,” her voice quivers with desperation, “leave her alone, they have nothing to do with this.” She pleads as she is led out of the throne room, “Ganondorf!” she yells as the doors echo shut, an ominous silence filling the room.

Ganondorf meticulously smoothens the creases in his regal attire, a visible effort to regain composure after the intense altercation. His gaze shifts to the two huddled children quivering before him as he comes to strokes his chin in contemplation.

Clearing his throat, he issues instructions to his guards, "Escort these two to the fountain-view guestroom." The children willingly fall into line between the guards, their faces etched with anxiety, eager to put as much distance between themselves and the perilous intensity lingering in the room.

“Lieutenant, take your leave." Ganondorf dismisses, the earlier ferocity drained from his tone. Yet, a strange composure lingers, casting an eerie reflection that does nothing to diminish the dangerous aura emanating from his presence.

Link nods wearily as he cautiously retreats toward the side exit, making a conscious effort not to turn his back. The air is thick with a palpable tension as he silently closes the door behind him, leaving Ganondorf and Nabooru alone within the expansive chamber. The heavy door muffles their hushed and ruminative exchange, sealing the secrets within the confines of the chamber.

Chapter Text

Link enters his private room, the door creaking in the quiet space. Dust swirls in the air as he steps inside, the room a stark testament to the neglect it suffered during his prolonged absence in Faron.

His traveling gear, a worn sack filled with the essentials of a life on the move, thuds onto the floor with a heavy sigh. The metallic clinks and soft shuffles of fabric resonate as he methodically unpacks, arranging his belongings with a certain detachment. The realization of fatherhood, a revelation that had eluded him for years, weighs heavily on his heart. He feels a profound sense of loss, robbed of the opportunity to witness the growth and joys of his children's lives. The guilt intensifies as he acknowledges his unwitting role in entangling his children within Ganondorf’s grasp. The resentment he once harboured towards Zelda dissolves, replaced by an understanding of her sacrifices to shield their children from the tumultuous world they inhabit.

Seeking respite, Link decides to focus his attention on sword practice. The familiar weight of his blade in his hand provides some solace, the rhythmic movements helping to clear his mind, if only momentarily. Each swing and thrust is executed with precision, a silent testament to his dedication and skill.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the training grounds, his intense session draws to an end. Cool beads of sweat trickle down his brow as he catches his breath, but his mind remains unsettled.

Did he make the right choices, or were they merely the lesser of two evils?

He tries to convince himself that he had done the right thing, that the lives of many outweighed that of the few. He recalls the faces of those who depended on him, the camaraderie forged in the crucible of battle. The weight of leadership, he reminds himself, demands sacrifice for the greater good.

Yet, deep within, a flicker of doubt persists. The faces of his children flash before him, innocent and unknowing of the harsh realities that they now faced. He wonders whether he is still a good man or just a soldier blindly following orders.

Determined to drown out his doubts, Link decides to indulge in a bath. His deployment had seen him limited to cold dips in streams, making the prospect of a warm bath all the more enticing. As the water cascades around him, he lets the warmth seep into his weary muscles, attempting to wash away not just the physical grime but the emotional residue that clings to him.

Yet, despite the comforting embrace of the water, the unsettling worry and guilt continue to seep their way into his consciousness, a constant companion in his troubled thoughts. He had followed his own selfish desires once before, and the entire kingdom was made to suffer the consequences. He couldn’t afford to make that mistake again.

He resolves to lead with his brain, to cast aside the tumultuous sway of his heart that had led him astray before. The path of logic and reason seemed safer, less prone to the pitfalls of emotional entanglement. As he emerges from the bath, the water droplets clinging to his skin, he carries with him a newfound determination to navigate the complexities of his role with a resolute and analytical mind.

The castle’s kitchen bustles with activity as the servants madly prepare dinner for the evening. Castle guards filter into to gather their meal before taking their seat in the great hall. With an empty evening, Link shows up early to collect his dinner. He waits in the short line to receive his rations when a few key words catch his attention from inside the kitchen.

“Are the prisoners’ meals ready?” A Gerudo quizzes the cook.

“Almost, I’ll have Moza delver them to the Princess quarters when they are.” Replies the stout cook.

Link leans past the soldiers waiting in front of him to view the kitchen staff within.

“And of the Kings special request?” The Gerudo continues.

"Stamm!" she calls out, her voice echoing over the commotion. The young Hylian boy, his dark hair tousled from the heat of the large earthen oven, looks up from his task of rotating the assortment of breads. "The apple pie, is it ready?!" Aurie orders, her tone firm and authoritative.

Stamm's eyes flicker over the rows of rolls cooling along the counters before spotting the golden latticed desserts. "Yes, Chief Aurie," he responds, deftly extracting the warm pastry from its earthen dish.

"Koko!" The chef turns her attention towards a young silver-haired girl, who in anticipation of the order, had begun removing the crackling spit roast, rotating over the charcoals of the open hearth. Link watches, intrigued by her presence in the castle kitchen, a race thought to be almost extinct after the king’s genocidal order. The absence of the Sheikah tattoo on her forehead hints at a tragic backstory. Too young to undertake the solemn oath or rigorous shadow training, she found herself spared from the same fate as her uncovered kin, instead relocated to the castle for observation.

As the Sheikah girl adds the succulent pork to the silver platter laden with an assortment of roast vegetables, the chef, barks orders to another apprentice, "Genli! The stew!" The Rito girl startles at the command, her feathers ruffling as she rushes toward the boiling cauldron, vigorously stirring the stew with a large wooden ladle.

The chef, with her wooden spoon brandished in the air like a conductor's baton, marches through the bustling kitchen, her sharp eyes scanning for any sign of disarray or delay.

Link's gaze lingers on the platter of food, noting the two sets of plates and cutlery as the Gerudo woman carries it out of the kitchen. A throaty cough behind him jolts him back to the present, realizing that the line has advanced. He quickly collects his meal—an offering of roast rabbit stew with root vegetables and a crusty roll—before finding his place in the great hall.

Tearing off a large piece of the warm loaf, he dips it into the rich gravy, savouring the comforting taste of fresh bread. As he scoops up a chunk of the dark meat with his wooden spoon, his attention is momentarily diverted by the familiar sight of Moza, a servant girl, passing through the hall carrying a serving tray with two wooden bowls of food.

His eyes track Moza as she crosses and exits the hall, a dangerous idea springing to his mind. He pushes it away, attempting to focus on swirling the contents of his steaming bowl. Yet, his gaze involuntarily slips towards the exit once more, overwhelming guilt flooding him as his opportunity seems to slip away.

The memory of Zelda's pleading eyes, begging for help he couldn't provide, haunts him. His resolve to lead with his head, not his heart, falters in the face of her desperation. He looks down at the barely touched meal, determination rising within him. Rising from his seat, he follows after Moza, leaving his unfinished meal behind.

Link hurries down the corridor, his jog turning into a fast walk as he approaches Moza. "Good evening, Moza. Where are you off to?" he asks casually.

"Oh, good evening, Sir Link. Just taking these up to the Princesses' old quarters, then I’ll be finished my shift for the day. Can you believe that after all these years, they actually found Princess Zelda?" she remarks with a hint of excitement.

Link summons a naïve smile. "Yeah, who would have known she was still out there? Also, like always, just Link will do, Moza," he reminds before suggesting innocently. "I’ll be passing by there. I could drop them off for you if you like?"

Moza stops walking. "Oh no, Sir, I couldn’t possibly trouble you with such a mundane task." she politely rejects, secretly hoping he would insist and carry out the task on her behalf.

"Oh, it’s no problem at all. Really," Link insists, liberating her of the tray. "Go, enjoy your early mark, Moza."

"Thank you, Sir, I shall," Moza responds before heading off in the other direction.

The flickering candlelight dances in the breeze of the slightly open window as Knil peers through the narrow opening. Hopelessness weighs heavy on his shoulders as he surveys the smooth walls and the daunting drop below, ruling out any possible means of escape. He slams the window shut, shutting out the foreign sounds of the castle and the distant city beyond its walls.

The room, adorned with gilded furniture, intricate tapestries, and lavish decorations, feels like an alien world compared to their humble cabin in Faron woods. He takes a seat at the small, oak table, his frustration deepening as he tries to make sense of their current situation. The air is thick with displacement, and the grandeur around them seems to mock the simplicity of their past.

As Knil's fingers drum nervously on the polished table, he steals glances at Hilda, who lies upon the singular large bed, absentmindedly tracing the patterns on the bedcovers. The questions linger unspoken, hanging in the air like a heavy fog as the sixth toll of the bell tolled from the clock tower.

Hilda breaks the silence, her voice soft but laced with uncertainty, "Knil, do you think Mother is okay?"

Knil looks at her, his expression mirroring the confusion and concern in her eyes. "I don't know, Hilda," he admits, his voice tinged with frustration. He wishes he had answers, but the unknowns surrounding their mother's well-being weigh heavily on him. No doubt they had been separated from their mother as a form of punishment for her actions.

"Do you think he will ever let us leave? He seemed pretty mad," Hilda recalls.

“I… don’t know,” Knil repeats, a heavy sigh escaping him as the uncertainty of their situation gnaws at him.

Silence lingers between them before Hilda looks up from her tracing and inquires anxiously, “You don’t think…” She pauses before whispering the words as if to avoid making them come true, “he’ll kill us, do you?”

Knil meets his sister's nervous eyes as they search for reassurance. “We're not locked in the dungeons, so that's a good sign, I suppose,” he reasons, attempting to find a glimmer of hope amid the shadows of uncertainty.

Hilda looks away, nodding reassuringly to herself. She turns to Knil once more, her eyes filled with curiosity and innocence. "Knil, what did the King mean when he said that mother was…” She pauses, searching for the word, "'conceiving us'?"

Knil's cheeks redden slightly, his eyes flick away as he grapples with how to approach the delicate topic. This is the kind of conversation usually reserved between mothers and their daughters on their wedding night, and there's no way he's going to fully enlighten his sister; that much is certain. His own knowledge of the matter is limited, gathered from bits and pieces from other village boys and their older brothers who were often prone to exaggeration.

 “Um…” he stammers, deciding to tread carefully, “it’s something… that married couples do together… to make a child.” His response feels inadequate, but he hopes it's enough to satisfy her curiosity without delving into uncomfortable details.

“Oh.” Hilda responds simply before frowning, “But… mother was engaged to the King, so... she couldn’t possibly have been married to Link. And if babies can only come of love once married, how did she have us?”

Knil's eyes dart nervously, regret washing over him like a wave as he realizes the precarious position he's in. He curses himself for not feigning ignorance, for not steering the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic. Hilda's expectant gaze weighs heavily on him, her innocent curiosity demanding an explanation he's ill-prepared to provide.

He fidgets, rubbing the stub of his missing finger, the hesitant ‘uh’ sound escaping him before he decides to pass the buck, “You know what, I think that is a fantastic question to ask mother next time we see her.”

A sharp click echoes through the room as the key turns in the lock, interrupting their awkward conversation. Knil's relief is palpable, but it's short-lived as Ganondorf's imposing figure appears in the doorway, casting a long shadow across the floor.

Knil jumps up from the table as Hilda swiftly moves across the bed, springing to a stand. Knil's hand tightens around Hilda's before he pulls her protectively behind him. His heart pounds in his chest as they back away further into the room, the air thick with tension.

Ganondorf gestures towards him, his voice commanding as he instructs, “Take the boy to join his mother.”

The guards advance, their movements deliberate and threatening. Knil's eyes dart between them, a flicker of panic dancing in his gaze as they draw closer. He attempts to evade their grasp, but his efforts are in vain as strong hands seize him and pry him away from his sister. Their fingers slip apart as they ripped away from one another.

Hilda's back presses against the wall, her eyes wide with fear as she watches helplessly. Knil's heart clenches with anguish as he's dragged further away. "Please don’t frighten her. She isn’t well," he implores, desperation lacing his voice.

Ganondorf walks past him, dismissing the comment, before swinging himself into the chair at the table. A servant follows close behind him carrying an elaborate tray of food. They place it upon the table before Ganondorf with practiced precision before silently retreating. Knil’s eyes lock with Hilda's for a fleeting moment, a silent promise of reassurance reflects in them as the door softly clicks shut between them, sealing Hilda and Ganondorf alone in the guarded room.

“Come. Sit.” Ganondorf instructs casually from his chair, his focus trained on setting out the plates and cutlery.

Hilda vigilantly watches him, not daring to move as her heart threatens to beat out of her chest. Ganondorf calmly busies himself, searching through the extensive tray of seasoned roast vegetables before adding them to his own plate. The aroma of roast pork, apple sauce, garlic butter potatoes, honeyed carrots, roasted pumpkin sprinkled in cinnamon, and apple pie wafts into her nose, eliciting a growl from her stomach. Her last meal of tasteless porridge early this morning could hardly compare to the small feast displayed before her.

Steaming pink juices pool on the platter as Ganondorf carves through the crispy rind. With each slice, Hilda's mouth waters in response, her eyes fixating on the steaming, fragrant slices as he piles them onto his own plate.

Realizing that she has yet to move, Ganondorf's gaze flicks up to her. “Hilda, wasn’t it?” he inquires softly as he sets down the carving implements.

She tensely nods confirmation.

“Please, join me.” He gestures towards the empty seat across from himself. “I assure you, I only wish to talk.” He encourages with warm, summoning eyes.

His gaze lingers upon her, pressuring her to take a weary step towards him. He returns his attention to carving the succulent meat as Hilda's eyes dart over the elaborate dishes, longing to fill her belly with their offerings. She slinks her way closer before tensely lowering herself into the chair.

As she settles, Hilda evaluates the towering, intimidating presence across from her, taking note of his broad shoulders that extend well past the confines of his chair. Yet, as she observes the carving knife and fork dwarfed in his massive hands, she can't help but note the way he handles them with elegance and refined etiquette as he cuts the thin slices. It's a strange contrast, as if he's making an attempt to appear less daunting for her benefit.

With that thought in mind, her gaze drifts across the immaculately dazzling silverware before her, reflecting her distorted face in its surface. She had never seen anything so perfect, shiny, and beautiful.

"Here," Ganondorf softly captures her attention, his voice a soothing contrast to the tense atmosphere. "Take as much as you like," he instructs, offering her the carving knife as if it were nothing more than a harmless feather.

Hilda eyes him suspiciously, her gaze drifting over the handle presented to her and the long, sharp point located at the other end. He was trusting her with this? She reflects as she gingerly liberates him of the knife.

He directs his attention to his plate, slicing a small piece from his pork before delivering it into his mouth.

She watches him in disbelief, he didn’t even seem to care that he had just handed her a weapon. Yet, what could she do with it? She was hardly gong to just out rightly stab someone. The thought of using it to escape crosses her mind, but she knows it would be futile. He could easily overpower her or use his magic to stop her. With that idea scrapped, she settles on carving a thick chunk from the delicious-looking pork, her hunger overcoming her apprehension for the moment.

She then proceeds to load her plate with a bit of everything, except for the string beans, of course, which she loathed. Her eyes flick across to Ganondorf, who remains engrossed in his meal. She takes note that his plate also remains devoid of the beans. She observes the way he holds the cutlery before tentatively picking up her own. She had never eaten with a knife and fork before; all the meals she had cooked with her mother had been cut into mouth-sized pieces to be added to stews or intended as finger food. The silver instruments feel thin and smooth in her hands, a stark contrast to the usually rough wooden spoons she had always eaten with.

She clumsily manages to cut off a large piece of pork before shovelling it into her mouth. She salivates as it melts in her mouth before quickly cutting off another slice, her knife screeching upon the plate before rapidly gobbling down the moist meat.

Ganondorf chuckles lightly at the sight of her undignified table manners as she enjoys the food, “Try it with the apple sauce,” he suggests, picking up the small serving dish before holding it out for her to take.

She relieves it from him before spooning the yellow jam-like substance onto her plate. With a covering of the sauce, she hums in enjoyment as she samples the new flavour. Eagerly, she tries the other delights on her plate, her movements frantic to fill her grumbling belly.

Her eyes drift over to the golden apple pie, anticipating the taste of the sweet dessert. She had once shared a small one with Knil, a rare treat to celebrate their tenth birthday. However, the one before her was almost incomparable in appearance. If it tasted nearly half as good as it looked, it was going to be delicious.

“Have you lived in Faron all your life?” Ganondorf's inquiry breaks the silence of their chewing.

Enthralled by the meal, Hilda had almost forgotten about the imposing figure sitting across from her. She swallows her bite, her eyes slowly meeting his as he waits patiently for a response. Suspicion creeps into her mind. Was it a trick question? An interrogation? Why did he want to know? He had already captured them; what could he possibly use that knowledge for?

With a wary glance, she hesitantly settles on a response. “Yes, my lord,” she murmurs, her voice betraying a trace of uncertainty.

“Does that mean you had the,” He pauses, searching for the appropriate word, “…privilege of sampling their specialty crop of Durians?" Ganondorf inquires, a genuinely intrigued smile softening his stern features, intending to break the awkward atmosphere.

A knowing smile sprawls across Hilda’s face as she recalls the all too distinctive smell of their region's notorious fruit. “Yes. It’s… actually quite nice, once you get it in your mouth.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, I'm afraid. The other side of a room is as close as I can manage.” Ganondorf informs with a humorously lifted brow, sparking a genuine chuckle from Hilda.

“What do you think of your lodgings?” Ganondorf inquires, his gaze sweeping around the inviting room.

Hilda joins his observation, taking in the opulent surroundings. “It's… quite nice… and… huge,” she admits. “I think our entire house could have fit inside.”

“Well, there is a wardrobe in the corner if that would make you feel more at home.” Ganondorf suggests, amusement lacing his tone, summoning a small, entertained smile from Hilda.

“You must have been crammed within Lurelin’s village centre to have lived within such a tiny house,” Ganondorf suggests with a fleeting smile.

“Not really… our cabin was small, but we had plenty of land,” Hilda informs.

Ganondorf ponders her words before inquiring, “It must have been peaceful surrounded by all that sprawling countryside. Did you have many animals?”

“Mmmh… we had chickens for a little bit until a fox took them,” Hilda reveals.

Ganondorf frowns, “All that land and you only had chickens? Not even a small flock of sheep or even a cow?”

Hilda shakes head before taking another bite.

“You must have had plenty of crops growing then? Let me guess,” He pauses before suggestion with a grin, “durians?”

“No.” she sniggers, “The surrounding trees were too dense for anything to grow.”

Ganondorf absorbs the information. He prods at a potato before absently suggesting, “You must have seen plenty of wild animals… living amongst the woods?” he adds as a subtly after thought, his eyes subtly flicking up to hers  

“Loads. Rabbits, deer, badgers.” She informs absently as she cuts into a baby carrot. “Knil even saw a boar once,” She informs, her smile growing, “he was stuck up a tree for the better part of an hour before it left him alone.” She giggles.

Ganondorf's hearty chuckle conceals his snide smirk at her unknowing confirmation. As their combined laughter fades, Ganondorf lays down his cutlery, his hands intertwining as he sincerely inquires, “Speaking of your brother, what did he mean? When he said that you weren’t well?”

Hilda’s face drains of colour, a sudden and unexpected intrusion into the realm of her most despised vulnerability. She shifts uncomfortably in her chair, the weight of Ganondorf's penetrating gaze amplifying her unease. A fleeting thought crosses her mind — perhaps, by sharing the truth about her affliction, he might take pity on her and expedite the release of her and her family.

 “I… sometimes… have seizures…” she admits, the words escaping her lips laden with a mixture of shame and resignation.

“Hmm… I see. Is that why he treats you that way, like… a delicate flower?” he asks earnestly.

“I… I guess so,” she agrees, her eyes anxiously grazing over Ganondorf's invested expression. He unfolds his hands before leaning back in his chair; the pommel of his sword rises into view, drawing Hilda’s nervous eyes toward it. He follows her line of sight to his sword; his hand subtly drops to the handle and repositions it out of her view.

Hilda swallows nervously as he hides the daunting blade, “Are… Are you going to hurt me?”

He sighs with a hint of disappointment before assuring, “No. I must… apologize for my comments in the throne room. I… I shouldn’t have… implied what I did. It was… coarse and unrefined.” He admits with an air of shame. “I only wanted to piss off—anger,” he corrects, “your mother at the time.”

She smiles slightly at his improper slip before inquiring naively, "What… exactly did you imply?"

He regards her with an expression of pity, as if she were a baby bird that had fallen from its nest, innocent and vulnerable to the predators lurking on the ground. "It... doesn't matter," he promises before steering the conversation back on track. "Your brother, does it irritate you when he treats you that way?”

"...Sometimes," she admits timidly before continuing, "He... thinks he can stop it from happening..." Her voice wavers with a hint of despair, "...but he can't... nothing can."

Ganondorf tilts his head to the side as he studies her intently. "You're not as helpless as you envision. I sense it in you, power that you’re not even aware of," his words resonate with a whispered promise, lingering in the air like an elusive secret.

She gazes at him with a mixture of perplexity and curiosity.

"These seizures, they only happen when you're scared, don't they?" he asks earnestly, his eyes already holding the answer he expects.

Hilda's gaze remains ensnared by Ganondorf, her eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “How… How did you know that?” she asks, her voice tinged with a hint of wonder and uncertainty.

“I experienced something… similar when I was a child… when my own abilities became known,” he states nonchalantly.

Hilda's eyes widen slightly in anticipation, a torrent of questions flooding her mind. Abilities? Did he think that she had them also? She would know if she had magic, wouldn’t she? Looking at him, it was almost impossible to believe that he had ever experienced fear before, let alone a debilitating weakness. 

Ganondorf leans in close, his amber eyes intense and captivating as he imparts his wisdom. "You've concealed yourself from your fears, relied on your family to shield you from them. However, you needn't hide from fear," he begins, his voice resonating with a depth of knowledge. "It is a fundamental instinct, crucial for our survival. It heightens your senses, makes you stronger, faster. But unless you confront your fears and harness the advantages they offer, you will never unlock your true potential."

His words like a revelation, unlocking a door she never knew existed as he continues. "You’ve been suppressing it for all these years, and it is … festering inside of you, Hilda. This… energy left dormant, unchecked, builds to such concentrations it overwhelms you, overloads your mind, shuts down your body." He explains passionately before summarizing simply, “You… faint, convulse until the energy dissipates from within you.”

As Ganondorf speaks, Hilda feels a glimmer of hope stirring within her. His words resonate deeply, sparking a newfound sense of possibility within her heart. After years of believing herself to be broken, useless, and burdensome, his perspective offers a tantalizing glimpse of something different. Could it be that her struggles, her vulnerabilities, were not weaknesses to be ashamed of, but rather indications of a hidden strength waiting to be unleashed? The idea tantalizes her, igniting a flicker of optimism in the depths of her being. Perhaps she was more than she ever dared to imagine.

“I felt your spark in the throne. As did you, didn’t you?” Ganondorf's words penetrate the air, leaving a lingering sense of revelation.

In a trance of disbelief, she nods, acknowledging the inexplicable sensation she felt.

"You have a gift, Hilda, powers lurking, waiting to be awoken. They are begging to be harnessed, controlled, utilized." Ganondorf's words carry a weight of promise and potential. He pauses, ensuring her undivided attention is fixed on him. "Perhaps, if you would agree, of course, I could... teach you?" he suggests virtuously.

Hilda remains transfixed and silent, pondering the influx of information as Ganondorf continues fervently. “You would never be afraid again. You would be respected, not pitied. You could do and say whatever your heart desired. You will find your truest self; one you could never have imagined. And it’s already within you, buried deep within. Once you recognize it, I promise you, you will never regret finding it.”

Hilda searches his face for any hint of deception or trickery, but his expression remains earnest and serious. “I… I can do magic. Like you?” she asks, her voice tinged with wistfulness, curiosity, and a hint of uncertainty.

“And so much more,” Ganondorf entices, his eyes gleaming with the promise.

She pauses, her gaze fixed on the enigmatic man before her. The prospect of unlocking hidden abilities, of transcending her perceived limitations, fills her with both apprehension and excitement. Could this be the key to understanding herself, to embracing her true potential?

“Show me,” she asks, her voice trembling with anticipation.

He smiles triumphantly, a glint of satisfaction dancing in his eyes. “Follow me,” he requests, rising purposefully from the table. Their meals sit abandoned, forgotten in the wake of a newfound purpose, as he beckons her to embark on a journey of self-discovery.

Link ascends the keep, his footsteps echoing in the stone corridor as he carefully balances the platter of food in his hands. Upon reaching Zelda’s old room, two vigilant guards stand watch outside the door. He nods in acknowledgment and offers a gruff, “Food for the princess,” as he halts before them.

One of the guards acknowledges him with a nod, unlocking the door to permit him entry with the tray.

As Link steps into the room, his eyes quickly locate Zelda slouched in an armchair by the unlit fireplace. A suspicious frown marks her forehead as she recognizes him, her weary gaze following him in anticipation of Ganondorf's potential cruel jests. Link moves deeper into the room, placing the tray upon the table. His eyes glance at the partially open door before he crosses toward her, out of sight of the guards stationed outside. "I don’t have much time," he whispers urgently.

A flicker of relief flashes across Zelda's face as leaps from the couch. "Link," she murmurs with a weighted breath. "Where are they? Are they okay?" she begins.

With a hushed voice, he responds reassuringly, “They're fine, they were taken to the guest room.” His tone harshens as he scorns, “What were you thinking? You tried to attack the king; you're lucky to still be wearing your head on your shoulders. If you want to keep your children safe, you had better start finding some respect.”

“You heard what he implied. Saw that… vicious sneer of his. How could I not lose control, Link?” she argues, frustration and desperation evident in her voice.

“Don’t escalate the situation to start with,” he suggests, his annoyance palpable. “Look, Ganondorf thrives on control, give it to him. Apologize to him, make him feel powerful. Recall those years of etiquette training, and actually use them. You’ll need to be convincing; otherwise, he’ll see straight through you if you’re not being sincere."

Tears well in her eyes as she turns away from him, the realization dawning that his presence was to only bring advice, not a viable solution for her and her children's escape.

“Zelda, I am trying to help you, please just… do as I ask,” he pleads, his frustration palpable.

“I need you to check on them, Link. Please?” She begs, taking hold of his hands, her desperation evident.

“I… I can’t. I am already putting myself at risk being here,” he explains, his grip tightening on her hands.

“Link, they are your children,” she reminds him, her words cutting through the tension with brutal honesty.

“Why do you think I am here, Zelda?” he growls before releasing her hands. “He will punish you through them, so behave.” He turns away, pacing on the spot as he schemes. “He was smitten with you before, so do it again. Take his attention away from Hilda,”

Zelda meets his gaze as he turns to face her, a contemplative expression settling on her features as she considers his suggestion.

“What is he doing here?” a new voice grumbles from the opening of the drawing room.

Their heads swivel towards the voice before taking in Knil’s scathing expression as he stands cross-armed in the entryway.

“Knil.” Zelda exhales with relief before her eyes search behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hilda.

Knil scowls as he takes in Link's proximity to his mother, he hisses with disdain, “Last time you two were left alone in a room together-”

"Knil!" Zelda scolds sharply, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence.

"I… should go..." Link suggests awkwardly as he subtly edges away from Zelda.

Zelda's gaze remains fixed on her son, her concern evident, "Where's Hilda?" she questions.

"Still in the guest room. Ganondorf had me kicked out, so he could have dinner alone with her," Knil informs her with a touch of bitterness in his tone.

Zelda looks to Link with pleading eyes.

"Zelda, I can't, I am sorry. There's more than just my life on the line," he apologizes before heading toward Knil and the exit beyond.

As he passes, Knil rams his shoulder into his, forcing him to stumble to the side. He catches himself and turns back towards the boy with a grimace.

“Sorry …Father.” Knil hisses, practically spitting out the last word.

Link's eyes narrow on his son before sharply turning away, his heated footsteps leading him out of the room before it is once again locked shut.

After a few minutes, Link finds himself pacing along the upper passageway to the guest rooms. Why am I doing this? he thinks to himself. I can't do anything anyway if something was happening. I should just go to bed, keep my men safe. He heads back down the way he had come.

You owe this to her; she birthed and raised the children you burdened her with, all by herself, a nagging voice inside him suggests. He twists towards the guest rooms.

How was I to know she would get pregnant? I mean, am I really their father? I didn't raise them; I don't even know them. They were fine without me in their lives, better off even. They will be fine now. He spins towards the spiralling staircase.

How could she not get pregnant? What did you think would happen after spilling your seed in her, you idiot? You're the reason they're in this mess in the first place. He stops abruptly. "Fine," he grumbles dejectedly before turning resolutely to the guest quarters once again.

Link cautiously navigates the corridor, a mental debate echoing in his head. What’s my excuse for being here? The guards’ quarters are on the ground floor. What if Ganondorf walks out of the room? ‘Oh, hi, your majesty, I am only passing by to check on my estranged daughter. You know, just making sure that she’s not being, you know, defiled or anything. That’s all. Now I’ll be on my way,’ he argues sarcastically within himself.

They hate you, his inner voice accused, relentless in its condemnation. They're the only family you'll ever have, and they despise you. Zelda thinks you're a coward. The boy wishes you were dead. The girl's ashamed of you. Perhaps they would have been better off if I had died. He reflects grimly.

Link cautiously peeks around the final hallway, finding it eerily empty. Why are there no guards? he wonders, his mind racing. He was certain the room at the end of the hall was where Ganondorf had instructed for the children to be taken. Casually slinking past the empty chambers towards the fountain-view guest room, he nervously scans the hall. Pausing at the door, he tunes his ears to the enveloping silence. Nothing.

Pressing his ear against the door, there is still not a sound. Testing the handle, he slowly opens it, his face wearily peering through the narrow opening. His eyes scan the room, seemingly devoid of life, before cautiously pushing the door all the way open. The room appears almost normal, with slightly askew sheets but no other signs of a struggle. Two small plates and spoons rest on the table with desserts. This was certainly the room. Wherever Ganondorf had taken her, he would be returning, Link evaluates, feeling a sense of panicked urgency. Hastily closing the door, he makes his way down the staircase.

As Link shuffles through the guards' common room, the weight of uncertainty bears down on him. Where were they? Perhaps Ganondorf preferred the comfort of his own bed as he... he pushes the thought away. She’s fine, Nabooru wouldn’t allow it. They’ve just… gone for a walk, that’s all, he tries to convince himself.

With sagging shoulders, he stumbles into his cramped quarters. The door softly thuds behind him as he kicks off his boots, followed by the removal of his tunic and the donning of his night clothes. Slumping onto the side of his bed, he buries his head in his hands, despondently he contemplates, "What have I done?" The question hangs in the air, unanswered and laden with regret.

Chapter Text

As Hilda jogs excitedly behind Ganondorf through the corridor, she can't contain her curiosity. "Where are we going?" she asks, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"To the east tower," Ganondorf replies, his voice tinged with indifference.

Hilda's curiosity only deepens. "What's in the east tower?" she presses, her gaze fixed on his stoic expression.

"You'll see soon enough," he answers cryptically, his attention focused ahead.

Hilda squints, trying to decipher Ganondorf's demeanour. "Is it... some sort of obstacle course?" she ventures.

A suppressed chortle escapes Ganondorf's chest before he replies with a mysterious grin, "...You could say that."

Perplexed by his vague response, Hilda presses on. "You have... trained someone before, haven't you?"

Ganondorf remains silent as he turns off the hall, leading her up the narrow, steep staircase.

Hilda's step falters slightly, her hopes shaken at the revelation that there is no designated plan for her training. She realizes she is to be the first test subject under the king’s tutelage. A flicker of doubt embeds into her mind as she begins to wonder whether he actually has a plan to help uncover her powers or if he is just winging it.

“How do you intend to find out if I actually have magic?” she inquires uncertainly, her legs racing to keep up with him as he glides up the steps.

“As I said, you’ll need to face your fears,” he reveals.

“But… you don’t even know what they are,” she states with confusion, huffing as she ascends the spiralling tower.

“You’re a living being, are you not?” he remarks.

“…Yes,” Hilda frowns.

“Well then, problem solved,” he notes.

Hilda’s frown deepens, anxiety creeping into her voice. “It’s… not going to be… actually dangerous, is it?” she asks nervously, her eyes searching Ganondorf's face for reassurance.

Ganondorf's enduring silence provides her with an answer.

How dangerous was this trial going to be? She wonders, her steps slowing as she begins to doubt herself and the unknown challenge that awaits ahead. What if the king was mistaken, and I have no powers? What if it goes wrong, and I get hurt… or worse, killed?

She slows to a complete stop, her breaths coming in panicked gasps. “I… I don’t think I can do this.” The fear gripping her heart tightens its hold, threatening to overwhelm her.

Ganondorf halts, his head rotating towards her with an air of exhaustion. She gazes up at him, searching for encouragement or reinforcement.

His expression remains stern as he inquires, "Do you want to hide in fear for the rest of your life?" he asks, his voice carrying a weight of challenge. "Trembling in terror of your next fit, wondering whether it will be your last? Living with the perpetual 'what if'—what if I had tried and discovered I actually had magic? What if I was truly… amazing, unique, special? More than what I appeared to be? Do you want to spend the rest of your life pondering… what if?" he tempts, his words hanging in the air, inviting her to consider the possibilities beyond her current limitations.

With a quiet resolve, Hilda replies, "...No," to Ganondorf's rhetorical questions.

He turns away from her, resuming his march up the never-ending staircase. Hilda watches hesitantly, contemplating the challenges that lie ahead. Despite her fears and doubts, she forces her feet to pursue him, determined not to let the opportunity for empowerment slip away without even making an attempt.

With burning thighs and a heaving chest, Hilda finally emerges onto flat ground as they reach the tower's peak. Ganondorf waits for her in the tiny foyer outside the keep’s door. He waves his hands over the lock, the keyhole flashing purple as the mechanism clicks open.

"Will I be able to do that?" Hilda questions, her breath still ragged from the climb.

"Perhaps. It is quite simple, but I doubt you’d be able to focus on it just yet," Ganondorf responds, pushing open the tower door before stepping inside.

Hilda follows, pausing in the doorway. The flickering light from the guard’s torch behind her barely reaches into the darkened room. Despite its appearance as a normal, unused space, an eerie aura envelops the room. As her eyes find Ganondorf's still silhouette at its centre, her stomach tightens. Shadows cloak him, masking his face except for his golden eyes, which gleam ominously in the darkness.

She takes a step back, her nerves palpable in the air. “I… I don’t want to go in there,” she stammers, her voice trembling with fear.

“You don’t have to,” Ganondorf reassures her, his voice cutting through the oppressive gloom. “And I won’t make you. But if you want to do this, first you must learn to control your fear.”

Hilda remains in the light of the doorway, her eyes scanning the large, pitch-black room. It appears mostly empty, with dust-covered cloths scattered over unused furniture.

“Are you frightened?” Ganondorf inquires gently.

“Yes,” she responds instantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Good. That means I’ve chosen the right place. Now, what of?” he encourages.

She hesitates, searching for words. “Um… It’s dark… and eerie,” she finally offers, her voice quivering.

“So is the night, yet that’s when we feel most at peace to rest, is it not? What else?” Ganondorf prompts.

She continues to observe the room, her eyes darting nervously. “…There are spider webs,” she notes, her gaze adjusting to the dim lighting.

Ganondorf chuckles softly. “I assure you, there are plenty of spiders hiding in your room, but unlike those ones, at least you know where these ones are. What else?” he asks.

Hilda's gaze settles uneasily on him, her apprehension evident. “…You,” she finally admits, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” Ganondorf replies deliberately, acknowledging her honesty as he finally receives his desired answer. “At last, a worthy concern. A mysterious, warlock king, double your size is not to be taken lightly, after all. It takes a lot of courage to admit to your strongest fears, particularly to the source of fear itself. But I ask you this. What could I do differently in here that I could not already do out in the light?”

Hilda frowns as she ponders the question, her mind racing with uncertainty. Seconds pass, each one feeling heavier than the last. What could he do differently in here that he could not already do out in the light? The answer eludes her. He was capable of anything, anywhere, at any time. Was this part of the test, facing irrational fears? Perhaps the test was to be a mental challenge, where there was no actual physical danger, she postulates.

Swallowing her apprehension, she takes a bold step into the room, her heart racing erratically in her chest.

“Well done,” Ganondorf praises. “Now… close the door.” He instructs delicately. The guards shift wearily on the top of the staircase, exchanging nervous glances between themselves.

Hilda tentatively grasps the door handle, her fingers tingling as her arm freezes, denying her from continuing. An internal battle ensues as she looks to Ganondorf for encouragement, but his expression remains empty, arms crossed against his wide chest.

It's just a door, her mind argues against her body. You can just open it again if anything happens. Was this the entirety of the test? Would that be enough to reveal her powers if they existed?

She attempts to swallow away her dry mouth to no avail. There's nothing he can do in here that he can't already do, she repeats in her head. Steadying her breath, she pulls the squealing door shut.

The room is shrouded in horrifying darkness, with only the soft moonlight filtering through partially opened curtains. Her breath comes fast, her heart beating loud in her ears, the only sound in the stillness. She focuses on Ganondorf as her eyes adjust before realizing he is watching her intently.

“How are you feeling?” His voice is almost a whisper, breaking the silence.

“Terrified,” she breathes.

“Anything else?” he probes, urging her to delve deeper.

If Knil or Mother knew she had willingly come in here, they would lose their minds, she reflects, her body coursing with adrenaline. Yet here she was, still standing, more alive than ever, and no fits! She was absolutely frightened, but also... something else...

“But also... excited?” she notes, surprised by the mixture of emotions swirling within her.

Ganondorf nods his approval, slowly unfolding his arms to reveal a dull purple sphere of energy in his right hand. Its soft glow illuminates the room.

“Then you are ready,” he informs, lowering his left hand to the hilt of his large sword hanging at his waist.

Hilda's eyes widen in terror, her body petrifying to the spot. He had lulled her into her own slaughter room, she panics, and she had gone so willingly towards it.

She watches in terror as his fingers wrap around the hilt of the massive blade. His glowing hand extends away from himself, the sphere slowly growing as it swirls. Its soft lavender light deepening to a vivid violet. His loose grip remains on the hilt of his undrawn sword as the magical light spins faster, forming into a large vertical disc slightly taller than himself.

 She gazes at it in astonishment, almost hypnotized by the violet light rippling like the surface of water as electricity crackles around its undefined borders. It was amazingly beautiful, she reflects, a breath of relief returning her to her body.

Ganondorf's eyes flick over her before he steps through the dazzling light. She gasps, her eyes blinking rapidly in amazement as he vanishes from sight. She stares at the swirling magical door, waiting in anticipation for him to reappear. But as the seconds pass, the enchanting portal remains empty. A bead of sweat rolls down her forehead as her task becomes obvious. He wanted her to follow him into that? Where did it go? she wonders as she drifts towards it.

She shivers as a slight, cool breeze drifts from within it. She traces her finger on the disc, and it swirls like smoke in response as her finger vanishes from view. She gently extends her hand further in, a cold wind rustles against it on the other side. She curiously withdraws her hand, ensuring all her fingers remain unscathed.

She gazes wistfully at the majestic portal once more, unable to look away from the peculiar phenomenon. Summoning a deep breath, her curiosity and intrigue urge her to step through the mysterious gateway into the unknown beyond.

She slips through the portal, her foot landing on an uneven surface. She stumbles onto the rubble, the frigid wind bustling vociferously around her. The dusky, cloud-strewn sky greets her eyes, followed by the sprawling landscape below. She takes a step back, discovering the massive drop only a few meters ahead of her.

Glancing around, she realizes she's standing upon a crumpled tower. Its walls and roof have caved and fallen away, and the ground behind her collapsed long ago, preventing her from retreating to the ruined staircase beyond. She was trapped.

With a quick, panicked decision, she leaps backward into the portal. Ganondorf's hand wraps around her right arm, dragging her back out. She falls into him, clutching at his cloak with her free hand to prevent herself from going over the edge as the portal collapses and vanishes behind her. Once she's stable, Ganondorf releases her, and she lets go of his cloak, stumbling away.

She glances between him and the towering drop surrounding the narrow ledge they're on. "Welcome!" He yells over the whistling wind. "To Lorule!" He announces proudly, his arms outstretched, gesturing around himself.

Chapter Text

"Please, I want to go back!" Hilda pleads, her fingers gripping what's left of a waist-high wall as the wind buffets around her.

"There is no going back, only forward!" Ganondorf announces, striding purposefully over to a fallen beam buried in rubble that stretches between the suspended island of ruin they're currently on and the other, sturdier half of the tower.

Hilda looks longingly at the other side, where solid floors and walls still uphold sections of the ceiling above, while her current refuge looks ready to detach and cascade over the tower's edge at any moment.

Ganondorf twists to face her, ensuring she's watching him before crossing the bridge of rubble. He strides effortlessly across it, debris dislodging with each step. As he reaches halfway across, a large stone block dislocates itself from the entanglement, and Hilda jolts at the sight of his right foot falling with it. However, the block's momentum halts almost immediately in mid-air, a soft glow emanating around it as it supports him. The glow spreads into the wreckage surrounding it, creating a floating path in front of him as the rubble compacts into itself.

Hilda's mouth falls open as he walks across the floating layer of stone jigsaw pieces, each of his steps firmly supported. He leaps down lightly to the other side of the tower, the floating bridge crumbling and falling like hail over the side of the rubble crossing.

"Now you!" Ganondorf's voice cuts through the wind.

"You can't be serious, I'll fall!" Hilda's voice shakes with fear.

"No, you won't! You'll catch yourself as I did!" His words carry across the chasm, determined and unwavering.

"And if I don't, will you catch me?!" Her desperation is palpable.

His pitiless stare gives her the answer she dreads.

"I can't do it, please just take me back!" She pleads once more, her voice trembling.

Ganondorf forms a portal next to himself. "This is your only exit. Now cross the bridge before I lose my patience and leave you behind!"

She stares at him in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. Surely, he wouldn’t leave me here to die? But his deadly serious expression speaks volumes, crushing her hope. How could he expect me to do this? I have no idea if I even have magic, let alone how to use it.

His scathing golden eyes break from hers as he disappointedly shakes his head before turning towards the portal.

"No, please don't leave me!" she cries, her voice desperate, echoing against the desolate landscape.

"Then move!" His growl slices through the air, urging her forward with relentless force.

With quivering limbs, she releases her grip on the section of broken wall she had clung to. The portal collapses as he returns his focus to her. Trembling, she slowly makes her way over the wreckage towards the narrow bridge, her body tense with fear as the unstable ground shifts beneath each step. A stone block moves under her foot, causing her to stumble forward and fall onto her hands and knees. Nausea churns in her stomach as she petrifiedly stares at the edge she had nearly tumbled over, just a few feet away.

Her eyes flick up to Ganondorf on the other side, silently pleading with his cross-armed, uncaring stance. But he remains unmoved, his expression unyielding. With a nod, he silently urges her to rise and continue, leaving her no choice but to face her fears and move forward.

Wearily, she rises to her feet, her body trembling with fear as she stands at the bridge’s edge, her arms and legs splayed out for balance. The wind howls around her, tugging at her clothes and hair, as she gazes down at the terrifying drop below. Her heart races wildly, its frantic beat reverberating throughout her entire body.

“Your magic is entrapped within your mind,” Ganondorf's voice cuts through the wind, his words echoing in her ears. “Help it find the connections out into your body, and it will do the rest!”

“I don’t feel anything!” she shouts, her voice barely audible over the roaring wind. Panic surges through her as her head pounds and her vision begins to blur. The horrifying realization hits her like a wave crashing over her. She had felt this way before, only ever when she was on the verge of a seizure. She was mere moments away from losing control of her body and tumbling off the edge to her certain death. This was it. This was how I am to die, she drastically spirals.

“GO NOW!” Ganondorf commands, his glowing hand outstretched as he uses his magic to collapse the ground behind her, forcing her to surge onto the bridge.

I am going to die! She convinces herself as she warily manoeuvres her way forward, the rubble behind her continuing to break away, preventing her from retreating. I will collapse and plummet to the ground like a limp doll. And no one will ever know.

“LET IT OUT!” Ganondorf’s voice demands from the other side.

Let what out? There was nothing. I can barely breathe and see, let alone release a non-existent force—“AAARRRGGGHHH!” she screeches as she drops with the ground beneath her.

Her eyes clamp shut, her extremities prickle as her body tenses in preparation for the oncoming impact below before realizing she wasn’t moving.

Her eyes flicker open, her blurred vision slowly returning as more of the tower comes back into focus, revealing that she was still standing on top of the bridge. She warily looks down at her feet, not daring to move. The shifted block beneath her feet was emanating purple light, frozen in place at the bridge's side.

The soles of her feet bristle, an odd sensation trickling through her, from her head down to her feet.

As the pressure in her head clears, her breath returns to normal. She focuses on the feeling coursing through her, willing it to pass through her shoulders, down her arms, and into her hands. She turns her hands over, inspecting her palms as energy pools in them.

Her hands begin to tense and tremble as the growing force builds within them. She tries to force the magic from her hands, but to no avail. Her fingers arch painfully as her hands violently shudder, unable to release the gathering magic.

Taking a deep breath, she steadies herself and concentrates on the sensation of the consistent flow radiating from the soles of her feet into the floating piece of debris. It drifts from her soles like sand in an hourglass, allowed to flow freely rather than being forced.

With a renewed focus, she centres her mind on her hands once again, slowly allowing them to relax. The energy filters from them, dispersing into the air around them like mist, allowing her hands to stabilize.

She stares at the rubble around her, willing it to flow towards them, around them, as it had done through her. The wreckage flickers into life, illuminating one piece after the other, their weight an extension of her own arms. With a subtle movement of her fingers, she commands the pieces to rise and merge into a tight ball.

The ball explodes outwards, circling around her body like a hurricane. “I’m... AMAZING!” She howls delightedly from its centre, her voice ringing with exhilaration.

“Indeed, you are,” Ganondorf praises, his smile reflecting her newfound confidence. He extends his hand toward the ledge. “Come now, before you expend yourself,” he instructs.

With a determined nod, Hilda forms a path before her, her steps confident as she strides across it, fear shattered. She leaps from the end of the path, reaching for Ganondorf’s outstretched hand. His massive hand clasps around hers, pulling her toward the stable ground below. Her boots thud on the hard stone.

As he releases her hand, she leaps into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing his tensed body tightly, overcome with gratitude. His arms hover awkwardly in the air, momentarily taken aback by the gesture.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hilda exclaims ecstatically, her voice filled with genuine appreciation as she squeezes him tighter before finally letting go.

"You're… welcome," he finally manages, his voice gruff but genuine. He clears his throat, momentarily avoiding her gaze. "That's enough for tonight. We should head back." He turns from her, summoning a portal before gesturing for her to go first as they make their way back to Hyrule.

Chapter Text

“More! Teach me more!” Hilda implores, skipping after Ganondorf as they reappear in the eastern tower in Hyrule.

“Not tonight, your body will need to recover,” he advises, opening the door out of the tower room, the bright torchlight blinding their eyes as they exit.

“I feel alive, I could run for days!” she relays excitedly, bobbing beside him down the staircase.

“Not for long you won’t. Trust me,” he warns, with an amused, knowing chuckle.

She strides beside him, her excitement bubbling over as she recounts the rush of power she felt coursing through her veins, the exhilarating sensation of manipulating magic, and the newfound confidence it gave her. Her words spill out in a torrent of excitement, painting a vivid picture of her experience leading up to and while using magic.

A tiny smile creeps into his features in response to her infectious mood, silently acknowledging her progress and determination. When she finally stops, he speaks softly.

“I must apologize for frightening you. It was the only way to connect the bonds between mind and body,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of regret. He glances at her before continuing, “But now that the networks have been established, you will be able to call upon it. It will still be difficult, of course, but over time it will become second nature.”

“It was pretty terrifying,” she agrees, her voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. “But I'm glad I did it. I feel…”

“Incredible? Powerful? Unstoppable?” Ganondorf suggests, as if reading her mind.

“Yes!” She vigorously agrees, her smile widening with each word. “Exactly. Is that how you feel when you use magic?”

Ganondorf's smile deepens, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and satisfaction. “…In a way,” he admits cryptically. “But there's still much for you to learn.”

“I want to learn it all, everything there is to do with magic,” she informs determinedly.

A smile tugs at his lips from her enthusiasm. “If that is what you desire,” he agrees before pausing. “Speaking of your …newfound abilities. I don’t believe your family would…. understand or… appreciate our little training sessions. After all, they don’t know what it's like to be special. Like us.” He holds her gaze for a moment before breaking away. “But ultimately, it is your decision when and whether you would like to tell them.”

As Hilda ponders Ganondorf's words, she envisions the potential reactions of her family to her newfound abilities. She imagines their confusion turning into fear, and their fear turning into anger. And more importantly, how would they react to learning that it was Ganondorf who had aided her in unlocking these newfound abilities? The thought of their disapproval weighs heavily on her mind, stirring up feelings of uncertainty and anxiety. "I think you're right," she comes to agree, her thoughts solidifying into a decision. "They don’t need to know about it just yet."

 He smiles reassuringly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wise decision. Should they happen to ask, perhaps I took you on a tour of the castle, showed you the grounds, then we played a game of chess in the gardens. Naturally, I won. Then you returned to your room.”

“Why can’t I win?” She glares mischievously at him, a playful challenge in her eyes.

“That’s hardly believable,” he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Then I should like a rematch!” She demands, her tone mock-serious, before bursting into laughter at the incredulous look on Ganondorf’s face.

“Very well,” he concedes, his chuckle joining hers. He slows his stride and stops outside a door.

“Where are we going?” she queries, curious.

“You, my dear, are going for a bath. You need to warm up. It seems it was a little windier upon the tower than I had anticipated,” he notes, his concern evident as he observes her pale skin and goosebumps. His expression shifts from seriousness to a playful smile. “Plus, you smell like you need one,” he adds, theatrically pulling the collar of his shirt to his nose and wrinkling it in mock disgust. “Ugh, your reek is still lingering.”

She feigns a look of hurt, a playful glint in her eye, before shivering slightly as she becomes aware of her coldness.

“Good night, my lady,” he says, with a slight bow, before turning and striding off down the hall.

"Wait!" she calls out, her voice echoing down the hallway.

He turns back to face her, his gaze steady and attentive.

"Can… Can I see mother tomorrow?" she asks, her tone hesitant, a hint of longing in her voice.

He reflects momentarily before agreeing, "Of course. Perhaps we could all sit down for breakfast together."

"Okay," she responds warmly, her spirits lifting at the prospect of her family having a second chance at a better introduction with Ganondorf in a more relaxed environment.

"But first," he adds, his expression turning more serious, "I would like to speak with her, ensure that she has… calmed before allowing her such privileges."

"Oh… Okay," she replies, a touch uncertainly, but trusting his judgment.

Ganondorf dips his head in acknowledgment and bids her goodnight once again before turning to head towards his quarters.

"Goodnight, Your Majesty," she calls after him, her voice soft but genuine, before entering the bathing room.

The chambermaid inside greets her with a warm smile. “Good evening, my lady. Follow me.” She leads Hilda to an intricately decorated cloth screen and gently parts it. “The water's nice and hot for you, my lady.”

Hilda squeezes past the kind-faced, plump woman, grateful for her assistance.

“I’ve left you some fresh clothes beside the bath,” the chambermaid instructs before closing the screen.

As Hilda sinks into the warm water, she can't help but savour every moment of this rare luxury. The sensation of the water enveloping her freezing body is nothing short of heavenly, a stark contrast to the harsh conditions she was accustomed to in Farron. Growing up in poverty, a warm bath had been a rare treat, reserved for special occasions or when they could afford the extra firewood to heat the water.

Curiously, she inspects the array of luxurious soaps, salts, lotions, and oils on the table beside her. Each scent seems to carry with it a promise of relaxation and indulgence, a far cry from the simple, utilitarian bar of soap they had used back home. She takes her time, inhaling deeply and letting the fragrances transport her to a place of tranquillity. Finally, she settles on a soothing blend of lavender and peppermint, drawn to its calming properties and refreshing aroma.

After luxuriating in the bath for what feels like an eternity, Hilda emerges feeling utterly exhausted yet thoroughly rejuvenated. She dries off and slips into the nightgown left for her, revelling in its softness against her skin. As she drapes a soft yellow silk robe around herself, she feels a sense of comfort settle over her, like a warm embrace after a long day.

The guards escort her back to her room, where Knil is waiting for her anxiously. He embraces her tightly, his hands searching her face for any signs of distress. "Hilda, are you okay? What happened?" he bombards her with questions, his worry palpable in the air.

"I'm fine, Knil, really," she reassures him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I was just given a tour of the castle, that's all."

Knil continues to inspect her, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "What are you wearing?" he asks, bewildered by her new set of regal night clothes.

"I took a bath and got changed," she replies casually, trying to alleviate his concerns.

"He bathed with you?" Knil's eyes widen in disgust, and Hilda lets out an exasperated sigh.

"No, Knil, I was by myself. For Farore's sake," she corrects him, rolling her eyes.

His gaze falls on a dot of blood on the hem of her gown, he quickly pulls it up past her knee, revealing a fresh graze. Hilda pulls her dress back down, feeling defensive under his scrutiny. "What happened to your knee?" he demands, his voice tinged with worry.

"I... don't know, I must have scraped it," she replies, trying to brush off his concern. But deep down, she knows the truth –it must have happened when I fell over the rubble, I hadn't even felt it at the time.

"You don't remember? How could you not remember? Did you try to run?" Knil's questions come rapid-fire, and Hilda feels overwhelmed by his concern.

Hilda takes his face in her hands, forcing him to focus on her. "Knil, enough," she says firmly, her eyes locking with his. "I told you, I'm fine."

Her eyes drift to the apple pie left behind on the table, an attempt to change the subject. She takes Knil's hand and leads him to the table. "Now come and have some pie with me," she suggests, eager to put the matter to rest and enjoy a moment of normalcy with her brother.

Chapter Text

The retiring door clicks shut behind Ganondorf, leaving the room enveloped in darkness save for the flickering flames in the fireplaces positioned between the two armchairs in the corner. Still facing the closed door, he senses a presence in the room and lets out a weary sigh before speaking.

"What is it, Nabooru?" His voice cuts through the silence, tinged with a hint of annoyance.

Nabooru's interrogating voice rings out as she rises from her hidden position in one of the armchairs. "What are you doing with the Vehvi?"

“What? What girl?” Ganondorf stirs as he crosses the darkened room towards his desk, waving his hand over the candles to illuminate the space. The sudden light reveals the various reports, quills, and pieces of parchment scattered across the desk.

Glancing towards Nabooru from the corner of his eye, he captures her frigid glower directed towards him. Clearing his throat, he reveals, "If you must know, I am training her."

"Training? Training her for what?" Nabooru questions dubiously as she draws closer.

"She's gifted with dark magic," Ganondorf informs indifferently.

“What? That’s… not possible. Only the Gerudo carry that trait,” she denies, her face furrowed in disbelief.

“Well, we know it wouldn’t have come from her mother’s royal line,” Ganondorf proposes, shifting through the new documents added to his ever-growing collection. “Her father’s parentage, however, is ….unbeknownst.”

“He is a Hylian; there are no doubts about that. If he descended from a Gerudo, he would have been born a Vai,” Nabooru dismisses.

“Perhaps… but… what if it wasn’t his mother that was Gerudo? What if one of the Gerudo kings had a bastard child with a Hylian woman?” Ganondorf sets down the paperwork, giving his full attention to Nabooru as he proposes his hypothesis. “A secret heir hidden from our history,” he speculates, a glint of intrigue in his eye.

Nabooru shakes her head definitively, her expression firm with conviction. “Impossible. All the Gerudo kings married into my family’s lines; a secret such as that would not have escaped my knowledge. Anyway, it is beside the point. Why are you training the vehvi?”

Ganondorf’s expression falters slightly as she dismisses his idea before speaking as if the answer were obvious. “The daughter of Hyrule, descendant of the Goddess, a wielder of dark magic. Under my guidance… well, imagine the rarity of her potential. And not only that, an ally of the royal family; a show of unity may very well solve the issues of the civil unrests,” Ganondorf schemes ecstatically, his eyes gleaming with ambition and vision for the future.

“She is also the vehvi of the Princess's kingdom you overthrew, a Princess you criminalized into hiding. What makes you possibly think the vehvi will align herself with you?” Nabooru challenges, her reservation evident in her voice, her gaze unwavering.

Ganondorf smiles, his expression carrying a hint of calculated cunning. “She's naive and impressionable, shaped by her mother's actions and the hardships of her upbringing. All she has known is fear, poverty, and vulnerability. But I can offer her something her mother never could—power, control, and most importantly, freedom. She's already grateful for what little I've shown her, and in time, she will come to see me as the key to unlocking her true potential. With it, she will feel indebted to me, bound by loyalty and gratitude.”

Nabooru shakes her head at the idea, her expression grave. “And if she doesn’t comply? You will have empowered her and crafted your own perilous adversary. One who may decide that reclaiming her mother’s throne is a far more noble pursuit than serving her mother's usurper.”

Ganondorf's smile widens, a glint of confidence shining in his eyes. “That is why I shall carefully moderate her education, ensuring she cannot surpass me. Besides,” he sniggers, “she is only a child. She lacks the knowledge and endurance to pose a threat to me. And don’t forget, I can be very… persuasive,” he counters cryptically, his voice laced with assurance of his own power.

“Is that why you took her to the other world?” Nabooru demands, her voice tinged with suspicion. “To persuade her?”

Ganondorf narrows his eyes ever so slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “Nothing escapes your ears, does it?” he remarks, his tone laced with mild irritation. Clearly, one of the guards had left their post and informed Nabooru of their excursion to the east tower.

“You’ve never taken anyone to the other world, not even me,” Nabooru continues, her arms crossed in front of her. “So why take her there? What are you hiding? What did you do with her there?” Her expression is stern, her gaze unwavering as she presses for answers.

“Relax, Nabooru,” Ganondorf dismisses the conversation with a wave of his hand. “The girl is in no danger, I assure you. My intentions are honourable.”

“Honourable? Really?” Nabooru’s voice drips with scepticism. “After what you implied in the throne room?”

Ganondorf averts his eyes, his voice dropping with shame. “I have already apologized for that… remark,” he reminds through gritted teeth. He pauses, meeting Nabooru's gaze with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. “We required solitude to ensure she wouldn’t be disturbed during the critical stages of her awakening. I did not take her there in order to compromise her,” he explains, his tone firm.

“And do the young Hylian harlots, parading to and from your room in the dead of night, also require this ‘solitude’ for their… ‘awakening’?” Nabooru sneers.

Ganondorf's eye twitches in surprise at the boldness of her insinuation, his cheeks reddening as he realizing she had indeed seen and heard more than he had anticipated. Clearing his throat to regain some composure, he retorts, “…Then you needn’t worry, as they must keep me entertained then, now won’t they, Sister?”

Nabooru's stare only intensifies, causing Ganondorf to roll his eyes before defensively adding, “I fail to see why the girl is of any concern to you, anyway.”

“I am concerned about the remarkable shift in the vehvi's demeanour towards you in such a short amount of time,” Nabooru presses on, her tone accusatory. “A few hours ago she could hardly speak in your presence, let alone maintain eye contact. And now she confidently walks and talks beside you. You promised you would never use mesmerisation on intelligent beings,” she scolds, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“And I have upheld that oath to you, Nabooru, as I always have,” Ganondorf responds wearily, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “I have refrained from using mesmerisation, as well as other forms of magic that you and the council have prohibited me from using,” he asserts, his tone firm despite his weariness.

Nabooru's glare intensifies, her fingers tapping impatiently on her crossed arms. "Then why does she trot behind you like an excited pup?" she demands, her tone sharp with allegation.

Ganondorf's expression shifts to one of amusement, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "She finds me... fascinating," he responds casually, a hint of pride underlying his words as he recalls Hilda's admiration of him.

 “<Pull your head out of your arse.>” Nabooru fumes in Gerudo, her frustration evident in her candid response.

“Ow.” Ganondorf snickers at her insult, their relationship allowing for such banter. “Is it so hard to believe that she finds me intriguing?” He counters with a roguish smirk, though his nonchalant attitude only seems to aggravate Nabooru further.

Her eyes flash with anger. “If you dare take liberties with her virtue in your quest for vengeance, Ganondorf, I swear, I will finish what your Vai’ni started,” she blazes, her threat carrying a weight of determination.

Ganondorf's smile vanishes instantly, replaced by a cold intensity. “…Careful now, Captain,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous as he locks eyes with her. “I don’t take threats lightly. Not even from you.”

Nabooru bows stiffly, her gaze unwavering. “And nor do I make them lightly, your majesty,” she retorts before swiftly exiting the room, leaving Ganondorf alone with his thoughts.

As the door closes behind her, Ganondorf's expression shifts from confusion to contemplation. He paces the room, the weight of Nabooru's words settles heavily on his shoulders. His usually confident demeanour wavers, replaced by a sense of disappointment and sadness.

She had always he been his loyal captain, his confidante, advisor, and in many ways, his sister. And yet through all the years, she had never once threatened him before, let alone brought up his mother. He reflects. She knew how he despised that woman—the one who had brought him into the world only to try and remove him from it shortly after. His fists tightly clench, the betrayal still cut deep, even after all these years.

As he pushes the enraging thoughts away, he returns his focus to his strained relationship with his captain once more. He would need to tread carefully: he couldn’t afford to let this strain on their relationship fester, especially now with Zelda's reappearance into society looming over them. Nabooru's trust was more crucial than ever, and he cannot risk losing it.

As much as he hated to admit to a weakness he felt was far beneath him, he couldn't deny the undeniable truth: he needed her.

Chapter Text

Zelda's eyes flutter open, her body heavy with exhaustion as she sits up from the couch where she had finally succumbed to sleep the night before. Her mind feels foggy, the remnants of her restless and anxious night swirling in her thoughts as the looming dawn awaits her.

The room around her had remained virtually untouched since she had fled over seventeen years ago, frozen in time like a relic of her former life. As she surveys the remnants of her past, a pang of nostalgia mingled with apprehension washes over her, reminding her of everything she had lost and everything she was yet to face.

The sketchbooks, valuable trinkets and mementos that once held sentimental value now feel almost worthless in her hands compared to the stakes at hand—her life and that of her children.

The clothes in her wardrobe, once elegant and luxurious, now felt foreign against her fingertips. Memories of grand balls and lavish feasts flood her mind as she runs her fingers over the delicate fabrics, each one holding a story of its own. She selects an old dress, one of the few that still fitted her changed figure, the fabric hanging loosely in some places and too tightly in others—a physical reminder of the toll motherhood had taken on her body.

As she resumes her restless pacing, her footsteps echo against the walls, disturbing the layers of dust that had settled over her possessions. The morning light dances in the swirling dust, casting a surreal glow over the room and adding to the sense of unease that hangs in the air.

Her reverie is interrupted by a sharp knock at the door, causing her heart to skip a beat. Frozen in place, she waits with bated breath as the door unlocks and swings open, revealing Ganondorf's imposing figure. His intense gaze meets hers, and she can't help but feel a shiver run down her spine as he surveys the room, his eyes scanning for any signs of mischief.

As Zelda ponders the situation, Link's words echo in her mind: ‘Give him control, make him feel powerful.’ She knows she must try, if not for her own sake, then for the safety of her children. With a deep breath, she resolves to navigate this delicate balance, even if it meant swallowing her pride and playing into Ganondorf's hands.

She hesitates for a moment, steeling herself before raising her head to meet Ganondorf's gaze. "Your majesty," she begins, her voice betraying her nerves, "I… hope this morning finds you well."

Ganondorf nods in response, his expression guarded as he observes her. "Good morning, Princess," he replies, his tone neutral but tinged with a hint of scepticism. "I see the night in your old quarters has rekindled your... royal elegance and etiquette once again."

“I must apologise for my behaviour yesterday it was… most improper. I only hope that you can accept my humblest apology”. Zelda requests as she offers a low curtsy.

His eyes narrow slightly in suspicion before his gaze softens marginally, his tone carrying a rare note of humility. "I must confess, Princess, that perhaps my own conduct was not without fault. For that, I extend my own apologies," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of sincerity. "It seems we know how to get under each other’s skin,” he adds, offering a polite smile to lighten the mood.

“Indeed,” Zelda responds, managing a small smile of her own.

Ganondorf’s eyes linger on her curiously as Zelda maintains her coy smile in the lingering silence that follows.

Ganondorf clears his throat, breaking the building tension, his tone surprisingly gentle, "In the spirit of reconciliation, I would like to extend an invitation to you and your children to join me for breakfast this morning. Perhaps in a more relaxed setting, It would provide us with another opportunity to attempt a more... cordial discission."

Zelda blinks in surprise at the unexpected invitation, her mind racing with uncertainty. Despite her misgivings, accepting the invitation would no doubt be the best course of action for the time being in order to keep the peace. "We would be honoured to join you for breakfast," she finally responds, offering a small but genuine smile.

"Excellent," Ganondorf replies with a nod of approval, his tone betraying a hint of satisfaction at her acceptance. “I’ll have my guards retrieve you before nine.” He informs before turning to leave.

Zelda hesitates for a moment before calling after him, her voice carrying a soft yet determined tone. "I was hoping..." she begins, her gaze meeting his as she slowly follows after him, her footsteps deliberate and measured. "That we could take the time to have a more ...intimate conversation, perhaps over a walk through the gardens?" she suggests, her voice tinged with hope.

A sly smile lights Ganondorf’s face as he responds, his leisurely saunter leading him back towards Zelda. “Really?” he queries, his predatory eyes fixed upon Zelda's faltering form as he encroaches into her personal space. “And what would the… nature of this intimate discussion be?” he asks, his voice low and suggestive, sending a shiver down Zelda's spine.

She can’t help but shrink back under his intense gaze as he looms above her, her eyes struggling to hold his. In a soft voice, she manages to relay, “I thought, that perhaps, we could get to know each other once again. After all, I do recall we once shared many similar interests.”

Ganondorf's expression softens slightly at her words, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his eyes. "Yes, we did," he acknowledges, his tone reflective.

A spark of hope flickers to life in Zelda's eyes, her breath catching in her throat.

His gaze drifts off momentarily before returning to Zelda's, a subtle gentleness in their intensity. “Perhaps… I have been a little too… hasty in my judgment,” he admits, his voice softer now as he closes the distance between them. His fingers delicately brush a strand of hair from Zelda's face, and she fights the urge to recoil from his touch. She forces herself to maintain a smile, her eyes pleading sweetly as Ganondorf's intense gaze studies her.

“But then again…” Ganondorf's tone shifts, a smug smile growing as his eyes darken ever so slightly, causing Zelda's heart to drop as it pounds in her chest. “What use do I have for a woman I do not trust?” he questions rhetorically, his words like a dagger through Zelda's hopes.

Zelda's expression falters, her façade cracking under the weight of his words.

“Perhaps if you can be a little more …convincing in your charade,” Ganondorf continues, his tone mocking as he sees through her act, “perhaps there may be an alternate role for your future in Hyrule after all.” He suggests with a mysterious smile, leaving Zelda with more questions than answers.

She swallows nervously, her mind reeling with the implications of his words. “What …roll exactly?” she questions fearfully, her voice trembling with apprehension.

Ganondorf only smiles as he looks down upon her, a smile that does not quite reach his eyes before turning away from her, his presence casting a heavy shadow in the room.

“Ganondorf?” Zelda calls worriedly yet firmly after him, her desperation evident in her voice, longing for clarification and answers.

“Good day, Princess,” his voice retorts in reply, the dismissal clear in his tone as he exits without so much as a backward glance.

“Ganondorf!” her distressed voice echoes in the empty room, her plea falling on deaf ears as the door clicks shut behind him once more, leaving her feeling more anxious and concerned about her future than before his arrival.

Half an hour later, Zelda's tense solitude is interrupted by another knock at the door. With a mixture of hope and trepidation, she listens as the key jingles in the lock, signalling the arrival of her visitor. As the door creaks open, relief floods her as she sees Link standing there, his presence a welcomed sight amidst her confinement.

"I did as you asked," he notes, his expression serious as he steps inside and closes the door behind him.

Zelda breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Link. And?" she asks eagerly, her heart pounding with anticipation.

Link hands her a pile of clothes he had been holding, and Zelda looks through them bewildered. "What are these for?" she inquires, confused by the unexpected offering.

"I needed a reason to come in here- It doesn't matter," Link dismisses, deciding to cut straight to the chase. "I went to her room last night. She wasn't there. There were no guards, and the door was left unlocked."

Zelda's confusion deepens. "I don't understand. Where would he have taken her?" she questions, her voice tinged with worry.

"I'm not sure," Link replies, his tone sympathetic as he shares in her uncertainty.

"He was just here, Ganondorf," Zelda informs, her voice tinged with a mixture of anxiety and urgency. "He was... surprisingly pleasant. He even invited me and the children to breakfast with him to make amends for yesterday. I tried to do as you said, to capture his attention, but he saw through it." Her tone shifts, becoming more desperate. "Link, I can't help but fear he has something far more sinister planned. I do not believe he intends to keep us under permanent house arrest nor place me upon his council, which leaves him with very few options..."

Zelda trails off, her mind consumed by the grim possibilities that await her. She knows the fate of dethroned monarchs all too well. Conditional pardon seems unlikely, considering Ganondorf's mistrust. Hostage diplomacy is also improbable; she has kept herself distant from rebel activity for the safety of her children after all. Then there is exile or... execution. And based on Ganondorf’s earlier comments, she can't shake the feeling that he was considering the latter.

A lingering silence envelops the room as they contemplate Ganondorf’s unknown plans. The weight of uncertainty hangs heavy in the air, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

“In the throne room,” Link interjects, his voice contemplative as he rubs his beard, “he said he wanted to get to know Hilda better… what if… he’s courting her?”

A horrified look washes over Zelda's face as Link points out something she had also considered. Was that the reason behind Ganondorf's private meal with Hilda? Was he threatening her, manipulating her, using her sweet and naïve innocence to agree to a political marriage? She can't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards her daughter, imagining her being coerced into such a situation. But then another thought crosses her mind: would Hilda comply in order to protect her family from harm? The mere possibility sends a chill down Zelda's spine, her heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty and fear for her daughter's safety. The possibility of her daughter being as a pawn in Ganondorf’s twisted game of power and control is all too real.

They both startle as a knock at the door interrupts their conversation, signalling that Link had overstayed his welcome. He backs towards it, his mind processing the information before he hopefully remarks, "This could be a good thing."

"What? How could this possibly be good?" Zelda retorts in astonishment, her voice laced with frustration. How could their daughter capturing Ganondorf’s attention possibly be a positive outcome?

As Link's hand clasps the door handle, he turns back to Zelda with a reassuring smile. "Because if he intends to court her, he will be following protocol before proposing. Therefore, Hilda will not be compromised while she buys us all more time." He slowly opens the door.

"This is not her responsibility to fix," Zelda asserts, her voice laced with frustration and concern. "I refuse to burden her with this." Her tone is unwavering, a reflection of her firm stance on the matter.

Link doesn’t respond, his silence echoing in the room as he holds Zelda's gaze for a moment longer. In his eyes, she sees not only understanding but also a shared sense of helplessness, a reminder that they were all at Ganondorf's fleeting whims. With a heavy heart, Link turns away, the sound of the closing door marking the end of their conversation. Left alone with her fears and uncertainties, Zelda can't help but feel a sense of isolation wash over her, the weight of her circumstances pressing down on her shoulders like a suffocating cloak.

Chapter Text

Zelda is escorted anxiously by the guards through the castle halls, her mind racing with uncertainty and apprehension. Memories flood her mind as they approach what was once her father’s private dining room, the same room where she had sat for breakfast when the threat of Ganondorf was first announced all those years ago. Her heart races outside its doors as the guards instruct her to enter. As she steps inside, her eyes scan over the room, taking in the intimate table set for small affairs, six seats long. Her gaze quickly locates her two children standing side by side in the corner of the room. They rush towards each other, and Zelda envelops them both in a tight embrace.

Turning her focus to Hilda, Zelda scans her daughter's face, concern etched into her features. "Are you okay? What did he want with you?"

“I'm fine, Mum. He just... wanted to talk,” Hilda responds reservedly, her eyes avoiding her mother's gaze.

"What about?" Zelda presses, her worry evident.

Hilda glances off, her expression distant. “About... home, I suppose,” she vaguely informs before her eyes settle upon the trays of food the servants are setting upon the table. “The food looks amazing,” she notes, her attempt to change the subject evident as she eyes the banquet.

Zelda frowns at her daughter’s lack of concern at their current situation before probing once more, “And where did he take you?”

“Just... around the castle,” Hilda informs absently, her voice trailing off as she notices the side door of the dining room swing open to admit Ganondorf.

“My apologies,” he announces, striding into the room without so much as a glance towards them, his scarlet cloak swooshing from his shoulders before draping over the back of his chair at the table's head. He slides out his seat before gesturing, “Please, sit.”

Zelda wearily makes her way to the table, her two children following suit as they take their seats at opposite ends of Ganondorf. The servants hover around them, silently serving the luxurious dishes at their requests. They eat in awkward silence, the only sounds being the clinking of silverware and the occasional whispers of Zelda as she corrects her children's table manners. Ganondorf's occasional glances over the family add to the tension in the room.

As the meal comes to an end and the servants move in to clear the table, Ganondorf's calm voice breaks the silence. "Lady Hilda," he addresses her with a polite smile, "I was hoping that you would entertain me with a stroll through the gardens. They are quite exquisite this time of year."

Zelda narrows her eyes at the suggestion, sensing the subtle manipulation in his tone as he redirects her earlier proposal towards her daughter. She can't help but note the slyness in his eyes as he awaits Hilda's response. Before she can intervene however, Hilda's voice cuts through the air, surprising Zelda.

"I would be delighted, my lord," Hilda agrees with a warm smile.

Zelda's dismay is evident on her face as she watches her daughter's unexpected eagerness. "Your majesty, I do not approve of your interactions with my daughter," she asserts firmly.

 Ganondorf's expression tightens ever so slightly at the directness of her words. "I... shall bear that in mind, Princess," he replies courteously, his gaze shifting to Hilda with an encouraging smile. "However, I believe, as a young Lady," he adds, emphasizing Hilda's agency, "she is more than capable of making her own decisions, Princess." His words are both polite and assertive, leaving Zelda with little ground to argue further.

“Mum its ok, I want to go." Hilda whispers soothingly to her mother.

 Zelda's concerned frown deepens as she exchanges a worried glance with her daughter. "Hilda, you are under no obligations or expectations to accept. Just let me deal with this," she whispers urgently.

Hilda meets her mother's gaze, frustration evident in her expression. "I know that," she replies quietly, "I just..." She pauses, considering her words carefully before speaking with finality, loud enough for Ganondorf to hear, "I would like to see the gardens."

Ganondorf's smile deepens victoriously at Hilda's response. "Very well then, my Lady," he says, his tone holding a hint of triumph.

Zelda scowls at Ganondorf’s smugness before he turns his attention towards her son. “Lord Knil,” Ganondorf begins, Knil’s head snaps up in response to his name. “I was hoping to employ your services. I have heard that you are… quite the sprinter. My postmaster could use a new assistant. It would be paid work of course.” He offers with a charm that feels unnerving.

Knil looks at him in utter bewilderment, before his eyes cross to his mother who looks equally as confused. “Um… I accept?” he responds hesitantly before adding, “My lord,” as an afterthought.

Zelda's mind races as she tries to decipher Ganondorf's intentions. It's clear that his actions aren't merely random gestures of goodwill; there's a calculated strategy behind them. But what is his endgame? Divide and conquer, she thinks to herself. Is he attempting to weaken her family's bond, perhaps seeking to gain leverage over her children? His promises of opportunity and favour are designed to subtly influence them, making them easier to manipulate and control.

Knil, having been exposed to the harsh realities of the world, wouldn’t fall for Ganondorf's ploys so easily. But Hilda, sheltered from such experiences would be more susceptible to Ganondorf's charming manipulation.

Already, she could see her daughter becoming swayed by his influence, her innocence and naivety making her an ideal target for Ganondorf's machinations. Zelda clenches her fists in frustration. She knows she must tread carefully, protecting her children from Ganondorf's influence while also navigating the delicate balance of their interactions with him.

“Very good,” Ganondorf acknowledges with a nod. “I will instruct my guards that you are to be restricted to the castle grounds. I will send the Postmaster to collect you shortly from your room. Speaking of which, I have organized for you to have your own chambers.”

Knil hesitates, his eyes darting between Ganondorf and his sister. “Uh… thank you, my lord, but I would prefer to stay with my sister,” he cautiously replies.

Ganondorf ponders his response before turning to Hilda, awaiting her input. “Is that acceptable to you, my lady?” he inquires politely.

Hilda hesitates, her gaze distant as she considers her options. “Um, actually, I think I would like my own room, brother,” she says apologetically. “No offense, but you hog the sheets and snore.”

Zelda and Knil exchange puzzled glances at Hilda's unexpected response.

“Very well, separate rooms it is,” Ganondorf concludes, his smile remaining unchanged despite the subtle tension in the air.

Zelda pulls her confused gaze away from Hilda, addressing Ganondorf with a polite yet firm tone. “Your Majesty, I would like a private moment with my family, if you will allow it?”

“Of course,” Ganondorf agrees with a curt nod. “Oh, I almost forgot," he adds, his tone shifting slightly. "I have organized for an easel and paints to be brought up to your room, Princess Zelda. I do recall your passion for painting.”

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Zelda replies sceptically, her mind already spinning with suspicions. Ganondorf's motives seem too transparent, too calculated in his attempt to win over Hilda's favour through his supposed generosity and kindness.

As Ganondorf prepares to leave, he addresses Hilda directly. “My lady, I’ll be awaiting you in the hall.” With a final adjustment of his cloak, he exits the room accompanied by his guards, leaving the family alone to their private moment.

"Hilda, what are you doing?" Zelda questions Hilda once the doors close behind Ganondorf, her tone laced with concern and frustration.

Hilda pauses, her expression caught between defiance and innocence. "You told me to be respectful, mother," she reminds, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Yes, respectful, not... eager for his attention," Zelda remarks, her eyebrows furrowing in dismay.

Hilda's brows knit together in confusion. "I am not eager for his attention," she defends, her tone turning indignant. "I am simply being... polite," Hilda argues, her gaze steady as she meets her mother's eyes

"He is trying to court you, Hilda," Knil chimes in, his tone serious and straightforward.

Zelda breathes a breath of relief as her son also comes to the same conclusion and backs her up.

“What? No!” Hilda denies, her voice rising in protest. “That’s... not what’s happening. He’s... helping me.”

“Helping you? Hilda, we are not his guests, we are his prisoners. He is only giving us these privileges to get to you in order to punish me,” Zelda reasons, her voice tinged with urgency and concern.

“How is he helping you?” Knil inquires seriously, his tone firm and insistent.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Hilda huffs, clearly frustrated with the interrogation.

 Zelda gently clasps her daughter’s hands, her eyes conveying a mixture of fear and sorrow. “Hilda, please understand,” she implores, her voice soft but urgent. “Ganondorf is not to be underestimated. He may seem charming and generous now, but beneath that façade, he is dangerous, cunning, and manipulative, capable of unspeakable acts to achieve his goals. And what he did to your father... It's the reason he is the way he is now because of Ganondorf.” Her voice trembles with emotion as she recounts the past, hoping to impart the gravity of their situation to her daughter.

Hilda absorbs her mother's words, her expression hardening with resolve. “I am stronger than you think I am, Mum,” she counters firmly, determination gleaming in her eyes.

Zelda's confusion deepens at her daughter's response. “What does that mean?” she questions, her worry evident in her voice. “It's not your responsibility to fix the situation, Hilda. You don’t need to put yourself in harm's way—”

“ERRR!” Hilda growls, pulling her hands free. With determination in her steps, she storms off towards the exit Ganondorf had left from, her frustration palpable in every stride.

“Hilda!” Zelda calls after her daughter, her voice tinged with concern. The door slams shut behind Hilda, its echo resonating through the chamber, leaving a heavy silence in its wake as Zelda and Knil come to exchange worried looks.

“He’s... corrupting her,” Zelda reasons aloud, her voice heavy with concern.

Knil nods in agreement before adding, “She grazed her knee yesterday. She wouldn’t, or couldn’t, say how it happened. Why would she protect him? You don’t think he could be using magic to influence her, do you?”

Zelda's unease grows as she recalls Ganondorf's past actions. "When Ganondorf took the castle, he had mesmerized beasts to fight for him. I don’t think we should rule it out," she admits, her voice filled with apprehension.

Their worried gazes linger in the room, the weight of their uncertainty hanging heavy in the air as they contemplate the implications of Hilda's sudden change in behaviour.

Shortly after Hilda’s departure, the guards re-emerge into the dinning chamber once more before separating mother and son once more. Knil is escorted to his new room, his quarters located just down the hall from Hilda’s but facing the outer side of the castle, overlooking Hyrule field and the Lost Woods just beyond. The Postmaster, Marcy, collects him from his room before giving him a quick tour of the areas he would most likely be delivering messages between, ensuring he was familiar with his routes.

By the afternoon, Knil had familiarised himself with most of the castle. Naturally, he had inspected each exit, but they were all guarded. Whenever he loomed too close to them, the guards watched him dubiously and quickly sealed the path with their halberds. Realizing that the obvious exits were an unlikely escape route, and considering the fact that he couldn’t leave his mother and sister behind, he gave up on testing the guards' attentiveness and resumed his duties.

He would have to find a different way to help them all escape, he reflects, his mind already working on a plan to outsmart Ganondorf's guards and secure their freedom.

Dismissed for his afternoon break, Link contemplates his next move as he traverses the castle's corridors. After a few moments of consideration, he settles on the idea of delivering a silver jug filled with water, intending to use it as a pretext to gain entry to Zelda's room once more.

The guards unlock the door to Zelda's room, permitting Link entry once more. As the door closes behind him, he places the jug of water beside the full one already set upon her table.

“How did breakfast go?” he inquires gently.

Zelda collapses onto the couch, her worry evident in her demeanour. “I am worried about Hilda, Link. She is acting different… secretive. It’s as if she enjoys his company,” she remarks, her voice trembling with emotion.

Link listens intently, his eyes filled with concern as he takes a seat beside her, his brow furrowing in concern.

"She said he's helping her...” Zelda trails off, her voice betraying her uncertainty. “You don’t think he is entrancing her with his powers, do you?”

“I... don’t know,” Link admits reluctantly, his own worries mirroring Zelda's. “But maybe... it might be a good idea to limit what you say in front of her. If she’s under his spell, she could be reporting it back to him.”

His words bring tears to Zelda's eyes, and she completely loses her composure. Sobbing uncontrollably, she throws herself into Link's chest, seeking solace in his embrace. He gingerly wraps his arm around her, feeling her clutching the back of his tunic as she sobs harder. He lowers his head to hers, closing his eyes in a silent gesture of solidarity. Guilt washes over him as he holds her, knowing that he played a part in bringing her to this painful situation. But for now, all he can offer is his presence and his comforting embrace, hoping to provide some small measure of solace in her time of need.

“Mum!” Knil’s voice exclaims in outrage.

Startled, Zelda and Link quickly untangle from each other, their startled faces turning towards Knil as he stands with arms crossed in the drawing room entryway. Link springs innocently to his feet, while Zelda hastily wipes away her tears, trying to compose herself.

“Why are you always here!” Knil shouts, storming towards Link. They stand eye to eye, Knil puffing up his chest to make up for the slight height difference between himself and his father. Link, however, remains calm and collected, meeting Knil's gaze evenly.

Knil breaks his glare away from Link before turning to his mother, his frustration evident as he takes her hands in his. “Mum, he is the reason we are here! He is as good as Ganondorf, manipulating you to fall for him once again,” he pleads, his voice tinged with desperation.

“I am trying to help,” Link defends from the sidelines, his voice calm but firm.

Knil rounds on him, his anger palpable. “Help?” he spits venomously. “Was this helping?” He indicates the yellow bruise on his face left by Link only a few days ago. “Perhaps bringing us here is helping!” he shoves Link's chest, forcing him to stumble backwards.

Zelda rises from the couch, her distress evident as she pleads with her son. “Knil, please don’t,” she implores, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I didn’t know you were my children,” Link snaps defensively, his own frustration rising.

“So, you’d be perfectly fine to sit back and watch if we weren’t? So noble of you,” Knil sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He shoves Link again, his anger boiling over.

“You think I wanted you to be my kids!” Link snaps back into Knil’s face, his tone sharp with regret as soon as the words leave his mouth. He recoils, his eyes darting to Zelda's horrified expression. Taking a deep breath, he steps back, his voice softer as he addresses Zelda. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he solemnly apologizes, his gaze pleading for understanding as he finds Zelda unable to meet his eye.

“No, I think you’ve proven who you really are,” Knil growls, his tone laced with bitterness. “I may share your blood. But you are not my father. Or Hilda’s. You want to help? Get us out of here. Or better yet, take a stroll off the tallest tower you can find. Now piss off. And leave my family alone,” he seethes, his anger palpable.

Link's heart shatters as Knil's words hit him like a physical blow. He looks to Zelda once more, his eyes filled with regret and shame as he sees the tears streaming silently down her face. Unable to bear the weight of their disappointment, he averts his gaze and slinks away.

As he reaches the door, he hesitates. Turning back, he catches a glimpse of Knil knelt on the floor, his mother’s hands in his as she attempts to hold back her tears from her slumped position on the couch once more.

The realization hits him hard: he was only making things worse. With a heavy sigh, he finally tears his gaze away from the heart-wrenching scene before him and leaves the room, each step weighed down by the burden of his mistakes, leaving behind the echoes of his shattered family.

Chapter Text

 Hilda storms out of the dining room, her hands clenched tightly by her sides, her frustration evident in the set of her jaw. She pauses beside Ganondorf, who observes her with a slight frown, noticing her distracted contemplation. Without a word, he starts to walk, and Hilda falls into step behind him, the heavy footsteps of the guards trailing behind them, the only sound breaking the tense silence of the hallways.

“We can postpone today's lesson, if you wish,” Ganondorf suggests kindly, his tone softening with concern.

Hilda hesitates for a moment before shaking her head determinedly. “No,” she replies, her voice carrying a hint of stubbornness. “I want to do this. I am just so... annoyed,” she adds with a frustrated growl, her emotions still raw from the confrontation with her family.

“Then perhaps, a change in lesson is required. This way.” He indicates, turning back the way they had come.

As Ganondorf leads Hilda down the corridor and a set of stairs, she follows him into a room illuminated by the soft glow of stained glass windows that cast colourful patterns across the stone floor. Along the walls, several large stone humanoid figures stand tall, their imposing presence adding to the solemn atmosphere of the room. An altar stands at one end, adorned with candles and intricately carved symbols, while rows of benches fill the centre.

Curiosity piqued, she can’t help but wonder why he has brought her to a place of worship for her lesson. As he seals the door with his magic behind them, she feels a sense of unease creeping over her. He steps into the centre of the room and forms a portal. Bowing deeply, one hand resting on his sword, the other flourishing in front of him. "Ladies first." he gestures, inviting her to step through the portal.

“It’s not going to lead off another tower, is it?" Hilda inquires sceptically.

“No,” he sniggers. “Wherever you enter is where you’ll exit. That’s why I took you to the tower; I knew it lay in shambles in the other world.” He reassures her, “I promise, no danger awaits you on the other side.”

Hesitantly, Hilda steps through the portal, her heart pounding with apprehension as she nervously looks around the unfamiliar surroundings. However, her tension begins to ease as she realizes Ganondorf was telling the truth. The chapel was almost the same, yet noticeably different. No longer pristine and frequently utilized, cobwebs cling to the corners and dust coats the surfaces, casting the room in an eerie atmosphere of neglect.

The once vibrant colours of the stained-glass windows are muted by grime, casting a dull glow. Instead of large statues lining the walls, there are small altars adorned with porcelain statues and unlit candles, their wicks long untouched.

Ganondorf appears behind her, the glow of the portal disappearing, leaving the room bathed in dim daylight filtering through the dirty stained-glass windows. The contrast between the outside world and the dank, dirty interior is stark, adding to the unsettling aura of the place.

"Have you tried practicing on your own?" Ganondorf questions, his hand gliding across the room, igniting the candlesticks with magical purple flames that cast intricate shadows on the walls, revealing the fine details of the idols and carvings throughout the room.

"I have tried, but... I just can’t get it to work again," Hilda replies disappointedly, her voice tinged with frustration.

"It’s a bit more complicated to access when you’re in a calmer mood," Ganondorf sympathetically explains, picking up and inspecting one of the white porcelain statues from an offering altar at the side of the room. "So, are you still feeling annoyed?"

"A little bit," Hilda admits sheepishly, her irritation still lingering beneath the surface.

 "Good. Then break something," Ganondorf suggests casually, letting the idol slip from his hand where it shatters on the ground in a cloud of white porcelain shards.

Hilda stares wide-eyed at him in disbelief. “We're in a place of worship,” she whispers, her voice barely audible in the dusty silence.

“Really?” He questions sarcastically before another figure shatters upon the stone floor. “I hadn’t noticed.” He tosses a figure to her; startled, she manages to catch it awkwardly. “Your turn,” he instructs.

“I can’t, we’ll get into trouble,” she whispers once more, holding the figure delicately in her grasp.

“By whom? This castle is abandoned,” Ganondorf informs, gesturing around the neglected chapel.

She looks skywards, “By them,” she murmurs, her voice barely more than a breath.

“I’ve seen this world. The divine have already deserted it,” he informs nonchalantly, his gaze drifting over the forgotten altars and crumbling walls.

 “Couldn’t we… break something else?” Hilda suggests innocently, her eyes darting to the door of the neglected chapel.

“We could, but…” Ganondorf begins, his voice trailing off as he tilts a pew with small grunt of effort. With a powerful heave, it crashes over sideways, disturbing dust that swirls in the light shining through the windows. “The fact that it is forbidden,” he continues, dusting his hands together with satisfaction, “makes it so much more exhilarating.”

Hilda watches the chaos with a mixture of awe and trepidation before Ganondorf turns to her. “Now, why are you angry?” he asks, his tone probing yet strangely understanding.

“I don’t know,” Hilda sighs, her fingers tracing the delicate curves of the figure in her hand. “It’s like… everyone treats me like I’m just a dumb kid.” She pauses, her gaze shifting to Ganondorf, who watches her intently, waiting for her to continue.

“It’s frustrating,” she continues, her voice tinged with defeat. “They act like they know what’s best for me, like they can make decisions for me without even considering what I want or how I feel. It’s like they don’t see me for who I am, just what they want me to be,” she vents softly, a hint of sadness in her voice.

She looks down at the porcelain figure in her hand, her grip tightening involuntarily. “And when I try to speak up or assert myself, It’s like they don’t even hear me, It’s like I’m not worth listening to.”

Her eyes flick vulnerably up to Ganondorf once more for understanding and guidance only to find him disinterestedly looking out the stain glass windows. Hot white anger flashes through her, “You’re not even listening!” She yells at him, slamming the statue into the ground.

He snaps back to his senses as the figure shatters, “Sorry, what? I wasn’t listening."

She stares in heated rage at him as a smirk slowly slips across his face at the sight of her disbelief before transforming into a hearty laugh.

Realizing that he had been leading her on inorder to get her to smash the idol, she resists smiling through her glare while shaking her head, “You’re an ass.”

Ganondorf's laughter subsides as he regards her with a gentle seriousness. "I hear you. I see you, Hilda," he says softly, his deep voice carrying a sincere note of empathy. "You have a voice, a will, and a mind that is uniquely yours. No one should diminish that." His gaze reflects a depth of understanding that surprises her.

"In time, with confidence comes respect and influence, and with them, the power to shape your own destiny," he continues, his tone persuasive yet comforting. "And with the mastery of your gift, no one will be able to ignore you or dismiss your voice. You will be the one they listen to, the one they follow."

Hilda blinks in astonishment at his validation, her gaze locking onto his. His words resonate deeply within her, igniting a spark of hope and determination. She can’t help but find herself drawn to the promise of empowerment and recognition that he offers.

"How did it feel?" Ganondorf nods towards the broken figurine lying on the ground next to her, his curiosity genuine.

The question prompts Hilda to search inside herself, her emotions swirling in the aftermath of her outburst. A mixture of anger, excitement, and a hint of relief wash over her. Her eyes drift down to the shattered statue, and she finds herself astonishingly satisfied by the sight. He was right; it did feel thrilling to break the idols.

"Good," she replies, her voice tinged with a hint of surprise. "But I am still a little angry."

“Another then,” Ganondorf instructs, floating a silver candelabra to her before she plucks it from the air.

"You are powerful, fearless," Ganondorf begins, his voice resonating with conviction. "And only you are in control of your destiny. Say it."

“I am... powerful,” she repeats hesitantly.

Ganondorf's unimpressed look prompts her to dig deeper within herself. “You are powerful!” He roars, his encouragement fuelling her determination.

“I am powerful!” Hilda responds, her voice gaining strength with each word.

“You are fearless!” he continues, his voice booming with conviction.

“I am fearless!” Hilda echoes, her frown replaced by a determined expression.

“You are in—” He begins.

“I am in control!” she interrupts, her words reverberating through the room. As she speaks, a surge of energy courses through her, and the candelabra begins to vibrate with magical energy. With a burst of power, it rockets across the chapel, trailing sparks of purple light as it collides with the far wall, exploding into a dazzling display of lavender sparks.

“Again!” Ganondorf demands enthusiastically, his golden eyes fixed upon her with a dark grin.

With the chant echoing in her mind, Hilda's emotions run high as she unravels and unleashes her anger. She summons a crackling orb of energy in her hands, the power crackling and swirling with intensity.

Without hesitation, she hurls the orb at a stained-glass window, the impact sending rainbow fragments shattering through the pane before they rain down in a dazzling display.

“Yes…” Ganondorf growls, his own hands tremble with gathering energy as he basks in the crackling aura of her emotions.

Hilda's eyes frantically search the room, her anger building like a wrathful storm swirling within her that could only be expelled through action. Her gaze falls upon the heavy pew Ganondorf had upturned earlier, and with a primal scream, she unleashes another surge of energy.

“AAAAARRRRRHH!” The sound echoes through the chamber as she aims her hands towards the pew, releasing her pent-up fury. With a mighty force, she hurls the bench across the room, where it collides with the others with a deafening screech. The rows of wooden benches slide across the stone floor, crashing into the far wall with a resounding smash, the wood splintering into large chunks upon impact.

Ganondorf's crinkled snarling grin widens, baring his teeth as he watches the display of power unfold before him. His breath quivers with excitement as he attempts to restrain the overflowing energy misting forth from his hands, revelling in the raw force of Hilda's unleashed magic.

Her rage reaches its peak, her entire being consumed by a maelstrom of fury. With every fibre of her being focused on one thing only—destruction. She inhales deeply and rapidly, her chest heaving with the weight of her emotions.

Then, with an ear-piercing, unworldly shriek, she releases her pent-up rage. A pulse of energy bursts forth from her body, a violent shockwave that sends everything in the room hurtling backward.

Caught off guard by the sudden and sheer magnitude of her power, Ganondorf barely manages to summon a magical shield in time, but even then, he is slammed forcefully into the wall.

Wave after wave of explosive energy discharges around her as she loses control, her magic spiralling wildly out of her grasp. No longer able to contain the torrent of power flowing from within, she watches in horror as everything in the room is thrown against the walls, the stained-glass windows shattering into dust under the sheer force of her unleashed magic.

The objects pinned to the walls char and blacken, their forms crumbling into ash that disperses into the air like a trailing exhale. In the aftermath of her unleashed power, a final diminishing wave erupts around her, crackling weakly before dispersing into nothingness.

Ganondorf’s protective shield pitifully flickers out as the last flicker of her power arcs into the ceiling.

Horrified, Hilda's eyes flick to Ganondorf's, an expression of utter shock splayed across her paling face at the utter destructiveness of her abilities. Her body trembles uncontrollably, the overwhelming surge of power leaving her drained and disoriented. With each shuddering breath, she feels her strength waning, her limbs heavy and unresponsive.

As darkness encroaches on her consciousness, her vision blurs and her surroundings fade into a haze of shadows.

Then, nothingness.

Ganondorf leaps forward as Hilda's eyes roll back, her body limp in his trembling arms as he just manages to catch her from hitting the hard, stone floor. Stooped over her, his perplexed eyes frisk over her form, searching for a reason behind what had just transpired. His mind races, trying to make sense of the inexplicable surge of power she unleashed.

"She drained me," he mutters to himself, the realization sinking in as he feels the lingering effects of his own magical exhaustion. His frown deepens with a mixture of fear and apprehension as he looks down upon her now vulnerable form cradled in his arms.

I’ve never experienced anything quite like it before—never been robbed of my powers and have them used against me. But then again, he reflects, I’ve never shared in another’s magical aura before. She caught me off guard whilst I was distracted in her emotions. All I could do was shield against her onslaught as she consumed me of my energy.

As Ganondorf ponders the events that transpired, he can't shake the question from his mind: was it truly Hilda's power, or merely his own reflected back at him?

He watches her intently, his body slightly on edge as she begins to come to.

Her dazed eyes manage to find his, “What… happened?” She groans, rubbing the blur from her eyes.

Attempting to conceal his dismay, he replies, “You… absorbed… all of my magic,” he pants, his voice strained with exhaustion.

Hilda shifts in his arms as she attempts to rise. With Ganondorf's help, she manages to stumble to a stand, her legs wobbly beneath her. He holds onto her shoulders to keep her upright as his own body quakes with fatigue.

“I want to… go back,” she requests groggily, bracing her legs for balance as he lets her go.

“We can’t. You took... everything,” he replies, trying to hide the alarm in his voice. “I just… need to rest for a bit. Then we’ll be able to go," he informs, his cautious eyes not daring to let Hilda out of his sight. He backs towards the wall behind him before sliding down it, coming to sit upon the ground in order to recover some strength.

He watches Hilda sway unsteadily before she decides to approach and join him upon the floor. She turns to face him, her expression a mix of confusion and concern.

“I… I don’t understand, how did I absorb your magic?” she asks, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

His eyes flick away from hers as his mind races for an innocent explanation of what had transpired. “I… was sharing in your emotions, feeling as you did,” he begins awkwardly. “Your anger was as if it was my own, every release of your power felt as if by my own hand.”

Hilda's brow furrows in thought as she processes his words, trying to make sense of the situation. After a moment, she nods slowly, though still uncertain. “So… it was like we were connected somehow?”

Ganondorf hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yes, something like that,” he replies cryptically, not wanting to reveal his ulterior motives behind his own self-empowerment through the connection.  

“You were… sharing in my emotions? But why?” She questions, her expression troubled.

“You were… inspiring, incredible even,” he flatters reassuringly. “Your display was… empowering. I felt my energy swell, and I let my surplus flow freely. That’s when you… surged, and… you must have caught onto my excess and... drew the rest of my magic out with it. My powers drained into you like a whirlpool… I couldn’t escape you,” he explains, his amazement mingled with a hint of wariness.

 Hilda's smile only grows in response, a hint of pride evident in her puffed-out chest. “I thought you didn’t get scared?” she taunts playfully.

“You are… impressive and undoubtedly worthy of being feared,” Ganondorf remarks salaciously, a glint of approval shining in his eyes.

She beams at the compliment before modestly looking away, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. The exchange leaves a lingering tension in the air, a newfound sense of understanding and respect between them.

“Just… try not to use all of your magic at once,” he cautions in a more serious tone, his golden eyes meeting hers with a hint of concern. “Otherwise, you risk draining your stamina as well, and then you'll be entirely vulnerable.”

“Like we are now?” she grins, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Hm mh,” he agrees, shutting his eyes as he rests the back of his head against the wall. As the minutes pass, his breath deepens, each inhale and exhale a rhythmic cadence that gradually leads him into a meditative state as he attempts to speed up his recovery.

“So, what’s tomorrow's lesson?” Hilda’s voice breaks the silence, her enthusiasm undiminished.

His eyes crack open, his expression amused as he regards her. “Patience," he jests.

She laughs before pushing on. "So... what will it really be?"

Ganondorf sits up from the wall, a smirk playing on his lips. "I am not sure if you have quite noticed this, Hilda, but I do have a kingdom to run. I am already behind schedule because of you,” he teases, though his tone carries genuine fondness. “Do you remember how tired you were after your first lesson?”

“Yes…” She answers slowly, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips.

“Well,” he continues, pushing himself up from the floor, “You’ve just used two rounds of energy in one go. Once your adrenaline runs out,” He groans as he bends down to help her up, his grip firm yet gentle as she rises with his assistance. “I suspect you’ll drop like a tonne of bricks.”

As she steadies herself, her gaze catches his hand moving to his sword. “Why do you do that? Touch your sword before we portal?” Hilda asks, her curiosity piqued.

“It's... a different kind of magic,” Ganondorf replies hesitantly, his hand lingering on the hilt of his sword. “A key of sorts. It requires magic to activate it.”

“Is that why it’s a bizarre shape?” She inquires, gazing at the blade's jagged, uneven edges with interest.

“Yes... It wasn’t initially intended to be used as a sword, but... well... I guess that’s something I’ll get into later,” he answers guardedly before redirecting the conversation. “Be quick, I suspect I won’t be able to hold it for long.”

The swirling portal appears before them once more, albeit a little smaller than usual. Hilda takes the lead, stepping confidently into the shimmering vortex. Ganondorf follows closely behind, his tall frame slightly hunched in order to fit through the smaller gateway.

Dismissing Hilda from her lessons, Ganondorf instructs a few of his guards to see her back to her room. As Hilda departs, he locks himself within the chapel, entering his meditative trance once more to renew his drained abilities.

Somewhat satisfied with his recovery, Ganondorf's eyes flicker open once more, his gaze drawn to the seven large stone statues lining the walls. He rises from the ground and curiously circles the room, inspecting each idol. They depict the Seven Heroines, revered deities of the Gerudo. It had been quite some time since he set eyes upon them. Rarely did he find himself in places of worship; he preferred to rely on his own strength and cunning to achieve his goals.

As he circles the room, his gaze eventually settles on a smaller statue nestled among the larger Gerudo additions. It is a simple stone carving of Hylia, the goddess revered by the Hylians. Her head is tilted in humility, her hands held out in a gesture of grace and benevolence for her worshipers to hold whilst in prayer. Wilted flower crowns adorn her head, evidence of recent offerings by the Hylians who still reside within the castle. Despite the Gerudo's devotion to their own idols, Hylia is still respected among them

Ganondorf's eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the stone carvings of Hylia, the goddess who had created them, yet seemingly abandoned the Gerudo while her favoured Hylians received all her blessing. It stirs a mix of resentment and reverence within him, a reminder of the complex relationship between the two races.

With a sense of indifference, Ganondorf tears his gaze away from the statue and turns to leave the chapel, his thoughts drifting to more pressing matters at hand.

As Ganondorf trudges towards his duties, the weight of lingering fatigue bears down on him like a heavy cloak. His attempts to maintain his magical shield had drained him of his stamina, leaving him exhausted and struggling to focus on his tasks. Despite downing numerous cups of coffee in hopes of regaining some energy, his mind remains clouded by thoughts of the humbling experience Hilda had brought upon him.

Her surge of power replays in his mind like a vivid memory—the raw, exhilarating display of magic that she had exhibited. The sensation of his own magic being siphoned away had left him feeling vulnerable and exposed, a sensation he found disconcerting. But amidst the fear and vulnerability, there had been something else—a sense of thrill that had surprised and even intrigued him.

He recalls the intensity in her fearful ice-blue eyes as she emerges from her uncontrolled outburst. In that moment, she appeared different, no longer the childlike figure he had once perceived her as. He had gained a newfound respect for her abilities and potential.

Yet, there was something else, something that stirred within him—a feeling that he couldn’t quite place. It was as if she had become... alluring in a way that he hadn’t anticipated. The realization unsettles him, leaving him grappling with conflicting emotions and uncertain of what to make of it.

This undertaking was becoming far more dangerous than he had ever anticipated. The revelation of Hilda's formidable power, coupled with the unexpected emotions she stirred within him, had thrown him off balance. He couldn't afford to underestimate her strength, nor could he ignore the unsettling alure she held over him.

Chapter Text

“Hilda… Hilda. Hilda, wake up,” Knil's voice drifts to her as she is softly shaken awake.

Groaning groggily, she rubs her eyes, her heart racing at suddenly being awoken. "What... What is it?" she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

“You didn’t come to dinner last night. What happened?” Knil inquires in concern, his brow furrowing with worry.

Last night? She blinks, looking around her room in confusion, the morning light filtering in through the window. Had she slept for an entire day?

"What time is it?" she questions, her voice still disoriented as she struggles to piece together the events of the previous evening.

“Eight. I was heading back from a delivery and thought I'd check in on you. Are you okay? You look terrible,” Knil informs, his concern evident in his voice.

“Thank you, brother. Charming as always,” she remarks sarcastically as she sits up, her head throbbing slightly.

“You do. Look,” he insists, handing her a silver jug.

She gazes at her distorted reflection, a frown creasing her forehead as she takes in her extremely pale complexion and the dark rings surrounding her sunken eyes. The image staring back at her is a stark reminder of the toll yesterday’s lesson.

"Just take it easy today, okay?" Knil suggests gently.

"I will," Hilda agrees, handing back the jug before crawling out of bed.

“How... was the gardens yesterday?” Knil enquires hesitantly.

As she stretches her body, her eyes flicker blankly at him. Gardens? She reflects on the strange question. Then it hits her.

“The gardens!” she startles, recalling yesterday’s conversation. “We... didn’t end up going. I guess I was in a bit of a mood, so he took me to the chapel instead. It helped a lot, you know, to get things off my chest. Are you liking being a messenger?” she asks, eager to change the topic.

“It’s better than being cooped up in my chambers all day. Plus, look.” Knil sinks his hands into his pockets and pulls out a handful of tangled jewellery and rupees.

“Knil, where did you get this?” Hilda questions in shock.

“These nobles and lords are all blinded by their wealth. They don’t even know what they have, Hilda. It slips from their pockets into mine,” Knil boasts, pocketing the stolen goods once more.

“Knil, you have to return this,” Hilda begins, her worry evident in her voice. “If anyone finds you with it-”

“No one will know it’s me,” Knil reassures. “Who pays attention to the castle staff passing through the halls? This is only today's haul. You should see the bag under my bed.”

Hilda flutters her eyes in speechless astonishment.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you at dinner, okay? Oh, and ask the guards if you can see Mum. She has some paintings for you,” Knil reminds.

“Of course…” She waves her brother goodbye, still in disbelief at his haul.

Dressed and ready, Hilda raps on her locked door, prompting the attention of the guards stationed outside. The lock jingles open, revealing the two imposing Gerudo guards.

“Is it… okay if I visit my mother?” she inquires politely, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

The Gerudo holding the keys regards her silently for a moment before nodding and swinging the door open wider to let her pass. They form a protective escort, one walking in front and the other behind, as they guide her upstairs to her destination.

Pausing before a door guarded by two more Gerudo, her escorts engage in hushed conversation in their native tongue. After a brief exchange, the door is opened, granting Hilda access to her mother’s chambers.

She spots her mother by the window, absorbed in her painting, a brush gripped delicately in her hand. Zelda's weary gaze flickers towards the open door as Hilda enters, and a warm smile graces her lips. She lays down the brush and hurries towards Hilda, her arms outstretched in a welcoming embrace.

"Morning, sweetie," Zelda greets, her voice soft with affection. As she pulls back, concern flashes across her face as she takes in Hilda's sickly appearance. “You look ill, are you okay?”

“I am fine, I just…” Hilda hesitates, unsure of what to say. She knows she can't divulge the truth about her magical lessons with Ganondorf, so she decides that feigning illness might be the best defence for her current appearance. “You know what, I do feel a little under the weather,” Hilda lies, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

Zelda clasps her face and inspects her, her expression filled with maternal concern. “You can have some of my chamomile tea when breakfast arrives,” Zelda offers before delicately inquiring, “Have… you been having seizures again?”

“No, Mom, I haven't had one in a long time,” Hilda reassures, though a flicker of discomfort crosses her features as she recalls the close call she had on her first night here. “It’s probably just a cold or something. It’s nothing, really.” Hilda's eyes drift past her mother to the half-painted canvas, “Knil said you painted something for me?” She quires, attempting to steer the conversation away from herself.

As Hilda approaches the easel, her gaze drifts to the expansive windows that wrap around the corner room, offering a breath-taking view of Hyrule city below. The morning sun bathes the city in a warm golden glow, casting long shadows that stretch across the streets and buildings. From this vantage point, Hilda can see the bustling activity of the city coming to life—the merchants setting up their stalls in the marketplace, the townsfolk going about their daily routines, and the distant sound of laughter and chatter filling the air.

The cityscape sprawls out before them like a living tapestry, a patchwork of rooftops and winding streets that weave through the landscape. Beyond the city limits, the rolling hills and lush forests of Hyrule stretch out into the distance, their verdant greenery contrasting against the stone and mortar of the urban sprawl.

For a moment, Hilda is captivated by the beauty of it all—the vibrant colours, the hustle and bustle of life, and the sense of possibility that hangs in the air. It's a sight that fills her with a sense of wonder and awe, reminding her of the vastness and beauty of the world beyond the castle walls.

Zelda joins her daughter at the window, her expression softening as she takes in the view alongside her. Together, they stand in silence, united by the shared moment of appreciation for the beauty of Hyrule city below.

“Its… amazing.” Hilda whispers in amazement.

Zelda smiles, her eyes sparkling with fond memories. "Yes, it truly is. I remember when I was your age, spending hours by this window, watching the city come to life each morning."

Hilda's eyes sparkle with curiosity as she leans in, eager to hear more. "What else was castle life like?" she inquires, a twinkle of excitement in her eye.

Zelda's expression softens as she recalls her memories. "It was both grand and …lonely at times," she admits, her gaze drifting around the room. "Returning to this room after all these years feels strange. I often felt confined within these walls, burdened by the weight of my responsibilities as a princess."

She pauses, her gaze returning to the window. "But there were moments of freedom too. I would sneak out of the castle whenever I could, often with your father by my side. He knew he couldn't stop me, so he thought it best to at least be there to protect me."

A nostalgic smile plays at her lips. "I felt more at home exploring the smaller towns, ruins, and forests than I ever did within the castle walls. There was a sense of adventure and discovery that I found exhilarating."

Hilda's lips curl into a mischievous grin. "You sound like quite the rebel," she remarks playfully.

Zelda chuckles softly, a fond twinkle in her eyes. "I suppose I was," she agrees, her smile widening at the memory of her youthful escapades.

Hilda's curiosity piques. "Did you ever get to go into the city?”

"I used to love exploring the city," Zelda continues, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "There was always something new to discover, whether it was a hidden alleyway filled with street performers or a quaint little shop selling the most delicious pastries."

Hilda nods, imagining herself wandering through the bustling streets of Hyrule city, her senses alive with the sights, sounds, and smells of urban life.

Their conversation continues until breakfast arrives—a spread of warm breads, an assortment of jams, fresh fruits, and steaming cups of tea. They eagerly dig in, savouring the simple pleasures of a shared meal and the warmth of each other's company. As they eat, the morning sunlight streams through the windows, casting a golden glow over the room, filling it with a sense of contentment and peace.

After breakfast, Hilda returns to her room with a sense of determination, eager to practice her magical abilities on her own. However, much to her disappointment, she finds herself still unable to summon it without Ganondorf’s guidance. Frustration bubbles within her as she tries and fails repeatedly, the magic remaining stubbornly out of reach.

She sighs in defeat, sinking onto her bed with a heavy heart. Despite her efforts, it seems she still has a long way to go before mastering her newfound powers. But just as her spirits begin to wane, a knock at the door just after noon interrupts her thoughts.

The sight of Ganondorf at her door sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins, her mind already racing with thoughts of what she might learn next.

“How are you feeling after yesterday?” Ganondorf inquires, settling himself into the couch by the fireplace.

"Tired. I’ve slept for almost twenty hours,” Hilda responds wearily, sinking into the cushions beside him.

“I am not surprised. Any luck practicing today?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of concern.

“No…” Hilda's tone is disheartened, her frustration evident.

The couch shifts slightly as Ganondorf reaches into his cloak pocket, retrieving something small and black. “Here, a gift. This should help focus your mind.” He drops a small, smooth pebble into her outstretched hand.

Hilda examines the pebble, her curiosity piqued. “What is it?” she asks, turning it over in her palm.

"The Heart of Death Mountain, carried by Dinraal, The Red Dragon itself, from the volcano's very core," Ganondorf boasts, his words painting a vivid picture of the stone's origins. "The Goron chief gifted it to me when I became king of Hyrule. Twenty-one Goron warriors died to retrieve it from a colossal Igneo Talus that guarded it."

Hilda shivers involuntarily at the mention of the fierce guardian, her imagination conjuring images of the brave warriors battling against the elemental foe.

"It’s said to possess the very essence of the volcano's power within it," Ganondorf adds, his voice low and reverent. "Can you feel it?"

Hilda closes her eyes, focusing on the stone's energy. In the silence of the room, she imagines the fiery heart of Death Mountain, the raw power of the volcano flowing through the pebble in her hand. She nods slowly, a sense of awe and reverence washing over her.

“Good. Now, try and levitate it,” he instructs, his eyes fixed on the stone in her palm.

She holds it delicately, its warmth seeping into her skin as she focuses her concentration. With a deep breath, she lets her magic flow, imagining the pebble lifting from her hand. It responds, glowing softly as it begins to rise, only to falter and drop back into her palm.

Disappointed, she looks to Ganondorf, expecting to see him equally displeased, but his smile is warm and encouraging. “Well done,” he praises, his approval evident in his tone. “Don’t forget, without any physical or emotional prompts, magic is a little more difficult to summon. Keep practicing, and you won’t need to rely on them.”

A small smile lights her face at his encouragement, grateful for his guidance. “Thank you,” she murmurs sincerely.

“Now, can I trust that you will take care of it?” he inquires seriously, his gaze searching hers for assurance.

“Yes! I’ll be extremely careful,” Hilda assures him, her excitement evident.

“Good. Might be best if you don’t tell anyone about it. We don’t want to risk it being stolen,” he advises, his tone firm but cautious.

“Yes, of course. I won’t let it leave my sight,” Hilda promises eagerly, already planning how to keep the stone safe.

“Excellent, now keep practicing. I want you to focus on your control and precision; we don’t want another incident like yesterday after all,” he encourages, his tone firm yet supportive, before standing and moving towards the door.

“Wait!” She calls after him urgently.

“Yes?” He asks, turning to her, his expression patient.

“Aren’t we having a lesson today?” she inquires hopefully.

“Not today, I’ve already pushed you enough the past few days,” he informs, his tone gentle but firm.

“So, when will our next lesson be?” she asks, determined to continue her training.

"Hmmm... Tomorrow afternoon, I suppose," he proposes thoughtfully before his expression turns mischievous. "On the condition that you don’t still look as if you’ve contracted the plague."

Hilda lets out a sarcastic laugh before firing back. “Well, perhaps I caught it from you when I absorbed your magic yesterday.”

Ganondorf's sly smile turns to amused smugness as he responds, "I assure you, it was a once-off." Hilda returns a sceptical and cocky smile before he retorts, "We shall see how confident your resolve remains after tomorrow's lesson," his smile turning slightly threatening.

Hilda falters momentarily, her confidence wavering for just a heartbeat before she recovers with a quip, "Looking forward to it," her voice laced with a hint of challenge.

Ganondorf's smirk widens slightly at her response, acknowledging the spark of determination in her eyes. With a nod, he turns and strides away, leaving Hilda to contemplate the impending challenge ahead.

Alone in the chamber, Hilda's gaze lingers on the small black pebble in her hand, its weight a tangible reminder of the trust placed in her. With a deep breath, she refocuses her attention, channelling her energy and concentration into her magical practice. Determination burns in her eyes as she commits herself to honing her abilities, knowing that each moment spent in practice brings her one step closer to mastering her powers.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the desolate expanse of the abandoned training grounds within the crumbling walls of Lorule Castle. Patches of ashen earth smoulder in response to Ganondorf’s efforts to clear the over grown grasses that had overtaken the grounds.

Hilda stands nervously at the centre of the clearing, her gaze shifting uneasily across the scorched earth as she is left alone in the baron world. Her hand instinctively reaches for the focusing stone in her pocket, her fingers tracing its smooth surface as she mentally prepares herself for the challenges that lie ahead.

A sense of relief washes over her as the portal reappears, Ganondorf emerging from within it carrying a large bundle tucked under his arm. With a measured stride, he approaches her, his expression unreadable as he unfurls the canvas bundle to reveal a set of wooden practice swords. Placing the bundle on the ground before her, he begins his instructions.

“So far, you’ve learned to manipulate objects in response to fear and channel your frustration into attacks. Today, we will test your ability to combine the two. In order to protect oneself, one must be able to facilitate a good defence with an effective offense,” Ganondorf explains, his voice commanding authority.

With a flick of his hand, one of the wooden sword’s springs to life, a dull purple glow enveloping it as it hovers before Hilda.

She watches it warily, her eyes darting to the other swords laid out before her. “Do I get one also?” she asks, hopeful for a means of defence.

Ganondorf’s responses flatly. “No. Let’s begin, shall we?” With that, the sword lunges forward, catching Hilda off guard as it strikes her upper arm.

“Ow,” Hilda complains, rubbing her arm. “I wasn’t ready.”

The sword flourishes once more in preparation for another attack. “Do you think an adversary would wait for you to be ready?” Ganondorf challenges, his tone stern. The sword swings at her again, prompting Hilda to jump backward out of reach, her hands raising defensively.

The sword follows through with another strike, its trajectory aimed directly at Hilda. Her hands flicker with magic, and a triumphant smile spreads across her face as she manages to divert the sword's arc harmlessly to her side.

But the victory is short-lived as the sword swiftly changes its direction, wrapping around behind her. With a sharp thwack, the hard wood makes contact with her backside, eliciting a pained cry from Hilda as she instinctively reaches to soothe her stinging rump. She shoots a glare towards Ganondorf.

"You seem to be struggling," he remarks casually, his voice tinged with amusement.

Hilda's glare intensifies as she retorts, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Ganondorf feigns offense, his voice laced with mock indignation as a smirk plays at the corner of his lips. "How dare you insinuate that I would take pleasure in putting my young apprentice in her place."

Hilda's teeth grit against the lingering sting of Ganondorf's strike and taunts, her resolve solidifying with each passing moment. As the sparring continues, her reflexes sharpen, her movements becoming more fluid and precise.

With a flick of her wrist and a surge of magic, she not only blocks the sword's strike but also repels it with newfound strength. A smug smile tugs at her lips as she watches the wooden sword spin back toward Ganondorf.

The sword halts almost instantaneously before him, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. With a controlled gesture, he floats it back toward her, a silent challenge in his gaze.

"Not bad," he acknowledges, a rare hint of approval in his voice. "But let's see if you can keep up." With a flick of his hand, two more swords fly out from the bundle upon the ground.

Hilda's face falls as they surround her, their oiled forms glinting in the sunlight as they circle her menacingly. She deflects the first sword, the second one beginning its arc toward her. She manages to hold it at bay just in time, but her relief is short-lived as the third sword strikes her buttocks once more, eliciting a pained cry from her.

Ganondorf watches her struggle with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he observes her progress.

As the training session progresses, Hilda's pained cries gradually decrease, replaced by focused determination. With each strike, her movements become more calculated and graceful, her panic giving way to fluidity. She tunes her senses to the position of each blade, her mind entirely focused on the task at hand.

With a newfound sense of control, her movements take on a dance-like quality, her body instinctively responding to the incoming attacks. With precise timing and skilful manipulation, she deflects and flips away the swords with ease, her confidence growing with each successful manoeuvre.

Her eyes dart rapidly from one target to the next, her senses attuned to the flurry of chaos surrounding her. With each new sword added to the onslaught, she adjusts her stance and movements with remarkable agility. No longer merely reacting, she anticipates each strike and proactively counters, forcing the blades back with swift and precise movements.

The swords kept at bay, she launches her own counterattack, sparking currents that lash out into the swords, a few catching aflame from the intensity of her magic.

With swelling overconfidence and a smug grin, she challenges Ganondorf, "Is that all you have?" Her voice carries a hint of playful defiance.

A grin spreads across Ganondorf's face as the wooden swords fall from the air, pattering onto the ground, leaving Hilda bewildered. "I was hoping you would say that," he replies mysteriously.

Hilda's eyes widen as a large katana slips from the canvas wrappings, its surface glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

"It's... not sharpened... is it?" she stammers, her voice betraying her growing apprehension.

Ganondorf's grin only grows as he hovers one of the practice swords in the air before it is split effortlessly in two by the extremely sharp and very real sword.

Hilda's heart skips a beat, her body involuntarily stepping back. "You can't be serious... you'll cut me in half," she protests, her voice trembling with fear.

Ganondorf's face turns contemplative for a second, his tone darkening. "No... more like quarters, I would think," he corrects ominously.

The sword threateningly whooshes through the air in front of her, a pre-emptive warning of the impending challenge.

"Prepare yourself," Ganondorf warns, his voice carrying a grave undertone as the sword slashes threateningly before her once more.

Hilda's mouth dries as she continues to step away, her heart pounding in her chest. With trembling hands, she holds them out in a desperate plea. "Wait. Wait. Wait," she trills, her voice wavering with fear as her eyes flick towards Ganondorf.

She notes his grin has vanished, replaced by a small frown creasing his forehead. His entire attention focused on manipulating the blade with skilful precision, his intent clear and unyielding.

The sword hovers menacingly in the air, its glinting edge casting a shadow over Hilda as it descends upon her. Reacting instinctually to the threat, her trembling hands summon a shimmering barrier of energy around herself. The sword embeds into the magical shield as it flickers under the strain, the force of the impact sending shivers down her spine.

As the sword pulls away and circles her, Ganondorf's voice cuts through the tension. “You cannot maintain a full body shield, use only what you need or you’ll deplete yourself.”

Quivering with exertion, Hilda takes his advice and focuses on maintaining a smaller barrier before her, her eyes fixed intently upon the deadly blade.

As the sword slashes towards her side, she squeals in surprise, managing to catch it just in time with her shimmering field. The barrier bounces the attack away, eliciting a small sigh of relief from Hilda.

But there is little time to rest as the sword continues to test her defences, its movements becoming faster and more relentless with each passing moment. She channels all her focus into keeping up with the lethal strikes, her mind racing to anticipate each move.

With a surge of determination, she makes attempts to force the sword back, channelling quick flashes of magic to push it away. Each successful repel fills her with a sense of accomplishment, but she knows she must remain vigilant, prepared to defend herself at a moment's notice.

As the session wears on, she feels herself growing tired, her magical reserves dwindling with each successive block. With determination burning in her chest, she knows she needs to fight back, to deliver a devastating blow that will prove her strength and skill.

Her breath quickens as she pumps herself up, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she prepares to make her move. As the sword arcs towards her head, she gathers her power, her concentration unwavering as she reaches out to seize the blade.

With a surge of energy, she channels her magic into the barrier, reinforcing it with all her might. The sword strikes the invisible wall, bouncing back as if repelled by an unseen force. With a triumphant cry, Hilda disarms it from Ganondorf's magical hold, her power surging through her as she sends the sword flying away, embedding itself deeply into the soil.

Exhausted but exhilarated, she stands with her chest heaving, sweat running down her brow. A proud smile lights up her face as she eyes the now stationary sword, a testament to her strength and determination.

Her gaze drifts to Ganondorf, silently seeking his approval, her heart pounding in anticipation of his reaction. However, instead of the proud smile she had hoped for, she could have sworn she caught a fleeting glare in his eyes, a dangerous glint that she hadn't seen before.

Almost instantly, he breaks eye contact, straightening himself and offering a small, albeit strained, smile. "...Well done," he praises, his words lacking the warmth she had grown accustomed to.

As Hilda's smile fades ever so slightly, she can't shake the feeling of unease that settles within her. Was he angry with me? Angry that I had managed to disarm him? Or had she been mistaken, was it merely a trick of the light? Perhaps he had just been overly focused in order to halt the sword at a moment’s notice if she had failed. Regardless, she feels it best to refrain from gloating over her achievement for now.

Feeling a little uncertain, Hilda remains silent, her fingers twiddling anxiously in front of her, unsure of how to proceed.

Ganondorf’s voice breaks the tension, his instruction providing her with a clear course of action. "Make your way up to your room. I'll pack up here and meet you there to take you back."

Relieved for the chance to retreat from the awkward atmosphere, Hilda nods in understanding, perhaps he just needed a moment to come to terms with his second defeat?

As she walks away, she can't help but suppress a growing grin at her abilities and progress. Despite Ganondorf's reaction, she knows she's made significant strides in her training, and that thought fills her with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

As Hilda strides away with a bounce in her step, Ganondorf’s eyes narrow upon her, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. I could have done it, he reflects darkly, his thoughts veering into dangerous territory. I could have ended the uncertainty she wells within me. Freed myself of this… burden that has ensnared me.

In those last few moments, he entertained the notion of changing the blade's direction at the last second, relishing in the control he would regain as she fell. But instead of seizing the opportunity, he found himself faltering, allowing himself to be disarmed, defeated.

His mind festers over her, each demonstration of her developing skill, each banter of wit that stokes the flames of this unwanted desire. His fists clench in response to the emotions that refuse to be suppressed or reasoned, a fear of lost control turning to seething anger.

But as she glides up the stairs, a small, almost imperceptible smile graces his lips as his gaze lingers on her figure. That unwelcome yet… delightfully intoxicating feeling radiates through his chest once more. He quickly shakes her from his mind, a slight blush creeping into his cheeks at his own thoughts.

Deep down, he knows he couldn’t have done it, or worst yet, wouldn’t have been able to. Despite the fear and frustration that summons his dark thoughts, he finds himself drawn to her in a way he can't quite explain. He wants to see her progress, to unravel her potential. To spend time with her, to tease her, teach her, challenge her. He wants to pursue this unfamiliar feeling she sparks within him, to bask in its tender warmth and comfort. To give in to this …infatuation that only seemed to grow stronger as he himself grew weaker.

As the setting sun disappears behind the castle walls, bathing the sky in hues of orange and gold, Ganondorf's gaze vacantly drifts upwards to the display. His mind swirls with a sense of guilt for the lethal thoughts he entertained, a reminder of the darkness that lurks within him.

But as his eyes wander over the near full moon, casting its soft glow over the land, a shift occurs within him. An idea begins to take root in his mind, gentle and almost… sweet in nature. With it comes a near-invisible, tender smile, a glimmer of warmth amidst the shadows that cloud his heart, a feeling almost irresistible to resist.

Not long after Hilda arrives in her counterpart's room, she hears a soft knock at the open door. With a sense of relief, she sees Ganondorf standing there, his genuine smile returning once more.

“Shall we?” he inquires, gesturing toward a shimmering portal he has conjured before them.

As she steps through, the soft candlelight of her room offers a stark contrast to the darkened alternate room she had just left behind. It’s a welcome sight, and she feels her body relaxing in the familiarity of her own space. The warm fire casts a cosy ambiance over the room, its gentle crackling soothing her nerves. Her plush, comforting blanket beckons her from atop her large, inviting bed, a tempting invitation to unwind and rest after the day’s training. These luxuries were becoming a welcome indulgence.

“You’re a fast learner,” Ganondorf praises, his tone sincere.

Hilda's smile widens at the compliment, the earlier tension now dissolved. “I must have a good teacher.”

Ganondorf smirks, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Indeed. I hope you’re not too… battered after the lesson.”

Hilda rubs her behind gingerly, a playful pout on her lips. “No… but did you have to hit me there?”

“Would you rather I hit a bonier spot?” he challenges, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Hilda considers for a moment, imagining the wooden blade striking her shin or even her hand. “…no,” she admits reluctantly, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Very well then,” he settles, his tone matter-of-factly. “Our next lesson will be in three days’ time. It will be late at night, so make sure you're well-rested beforehand,” he instructs, a hint of mystery lingering in his tone.

Hilda arches an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Why at night? What will we be doing?” she inquires, unable to suppress her intrigue.

Ganondorf's lips curve into a mysterious smile. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. I am sure you will like it though,” he replies cryptically, leaving her with a sense of anticipation and excitement.

She smiles enthusiastically at him, her mind already forming an array of possible night-time lessons. However, her enthusiasm wanes as she begins to ponder the impact their extended stay might have on her family.

“Have I… disappointed you?” Ganondorf questions, a frown forming across his forehead as he notices the change in her demeanour.

“No!” Hilda responds quickly, her voice tinged with sincerity. “It’s just that… I visited Mother yesterday morning. She… doesn’t like being back here. And if we are going to be here for another three days—” She cuts herself off, realizing her words may be misconstrued. “Not that I am complaining or ungrateful! Everything here is so wonderful, it’s just… I hate to think that she is so miserable while I am… all too grateful to be here.”

Ganondorf listens intently, his expression neutral as he absorbs her words.

“I thought that maybe… I was hoping that we could visit the city together. I know she would appreciate seeing it again. Her description of it made it seem so wonderful. I’ve never been in a city before,” Hilda admits, her voice softening with a mixture of longing and concern for her mother's well-being.

Ganondorf takes a moment before hesitantly responding, “I would… consider allowing you the privilege of being accompanied to the city, but… not the Princess.”

Hilda's disappointment is palpable as she looks away, her hopes of cheering up her mother dashed.

“I… could… perhaps allow her more privileges around the castle, if that would please you? You can accompany her for a stroll in the gardens perhaps?” Ganondorf offers a compromise, his tone tentative yet sincere.

A glimmer of hope reignites in Hilda's eyes as she turns back to face him. “That would be wonderful, thank you, my lord,” she says gratefully, her voice tinged with relief.

“Please, when in private, you may address me by name,” he requests, a small smile softening his features.

“Thank you… Ganondorf.” She smiles warmly, feeling a sense of connection with him in this moment of understanding and compromise.

“My pleasure… Hilda,” he returns the smile, a sense of camaraderie evident in his tone. With a nod of acknowledgment, he turns to leave once more, his footsteps echoing softly as he exits the room.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Hilda dedicates herself to practicing her skills using the precious stone Ganondorf had given her. With each session, her confidence grows, the stone zipping throughout her room with graceful movements, twirling and looping around her in a mesmerizing dance.

In addition to her self-training, Hilda makes a point of accompanying her mother through the gardens both in the morning and evening. The fresh air and serene surroundings seem to have a positive effect on her mothers spirits, albeit temporary. Unlike herself and Knil, Zelda remains confined to her chambers, permitted to leave only under guard escort.

During their initial walks, her mother would always steer the conversation towards Ganondorf, attempting to glean information, much to Hilda's annoyance. However, after Hilda purposely skipped one afternoon walk, leaving her mother to pace the garden on her own under the careful watch of her escorts, she seemed to get the hint.

The next day, the topic of Ganondorf was conspicuously absent from their conversation, much to Hilda's relief. It was a small victory, but one that allowed them to enjoy their walks in peace, without the tension of unwanted interrogations looming over them.

Despite her own restrictions, Hilda found solace in exploring the labyrinthine halls of the castle. Within the boundaries of her curfew, she wandered freely, discovering the hidden layers of the fortress-like structure. The kitchens became a familiar haunt, where the chef had grown accustomed to her visits, setting aside special treats for her to enjoy each day. The vast library became her sanctuary, where she lost herself in the pages of fantasy books, collecting not only for herself but also for her mother, hoping to provide her with some distraction from the confines of her chambers.

Her curiosity led her to explore even further, eventually stumbling upon what she could only assume was Ganondorf's quarters atop the castle keep. Though she was only able to catch a glimpse of the corridor before being directed back down by the guards stationed at the top of the stairs.

During her explorations, encounters with Ganondorf were rare. She had expected him to be a constant presence in the throne room, but it often lay empty as she passed by. Even the kings private dining room, where her family had once shared breakfast with Ganondorf, now sat reserved for them alone. He was notably absent from each meal, leaving Hilda to wonder where he spent his days. Surely, he wouldn't confine himself to his quarters atop the keep all day?

She had only caught a glimpse of him once, his presence fleeting as he passed through the halls. Their conversation had been brief, with him claiming to have much work to catch up on. Although initially disappointed, her spirits were lifted when he mentioned that there would be a feast in two night following her lesson. A night of entertainment awaited the inhabitants of the castle, as well as the privileged lords and ladies of his lands.

She couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within her. While she had attended fairs in her village, enjoying the simple pleasures of food stalls and the performances of musicians and jugglers, this royal feast promised to be an entirely different experience. The grandeur and opulence of such an event were beyond her imagination, and she eagerly awaited the chance to partake in the festivities.

She had quickly become accustomed to castle life, adapting to its luxuries with ease. Gone were the days of rumbling stomachs and blistered hands, replaced now with scented baths, elegant gowns, and servants attending to her every whim. Her daily routine was no longer filled with laborious tasks but with various hobbies she had never before had the time or means to explore.

Her mother had taken to teaching her new skills, from the delicate art of embroidering simple flowers to the comforting rhythm of knitting a scarf.

Despite the newfound comfort, she didn't see much of Knil. Their interactions were limited to meals before he would disappear on his messenger duties throughout the castle. His absence was noted but not dwelled upon, as Hilda found herself engrossed in the world of leisure and indulgence that surrounded her.

As the evening of Ganondorf’s night class arrived, Hilda was filled with eager anticipation. She had spent the day preparing, practicing her skills with the precious stone he had given her, and eagerly looking forward to showing him her progress. Dressed in a comfortable riding dress, she had practiced hovering the dining chair opposite her before summoning the table to join the chairs in an intricate ballet of movement.

An hour had passed, and Hilda found herself waiting impatiently at the table, her excitement slowly turning to boredom. She gazed out into the darkened courtyard below, her thoughts drifting to what lesson awaited her tonight and when Ganondorf intended to collect her for their lesson.

Another hour dragged by, and still, there was no sign of Ganondorf. Frustration gnawed at Hilda's insides as she paced her chambers. “Where is he?" she mutters under her breath, her irritation growing with each passing minute. “It's nine o’clock. Maybe he's forgotten, been distracted by his work and forgotten all about me and our training.”

Although he had said late, she reasoned. But how late could he have meant?

Exasperated, she takes a seat at her table once again, a piece of parchment and charcoal pencil before her. She begins scribbling absentmindedly, her thoughts a jumble of annoyance and fatigue. Regret floods her as she realizes she should have taken an afternoon nap to prepare for the late-night lesson. As time tick by, exhaustion weighs heavily upon her, her head drooping onto her arms, resting atop the table. Her eyes slowly drift shut, succumbing to the pull of sleep.

She startles awake at the sound of knocking upon her door, warily wiping the sleep from her eyes and stretching her cramped neck as she sits up from the table.

Ganondorf enters, and she can't help but yawn as she exclaims, “Finally.” Her tone tinged with a mix of relief and irritation.

“My apologies, I was kept later than expected,” he responds, his tone tinged with sincerity.

Her tired eyes blink away the fog as she looks around the darkness blanketing her room, struggling to gauge the time. “What time is it?”

“Just past eleven,” he informs her, his magic igniting the candles in her room with a flick of his wrist.

She gawks at him, no wonder she had fallen asleep.

“Do you not wish to go?” he inquires, a slight disappointment creeping into his tone.

“No, of course I do!” she responds eagerly, jumping out of her chair with a hasty movement that nearly knocks it over.

“Well then, let us depart,” he encourages, the familiar purple vortex appearing in her chamber as he gestures for her to proceed first.

She strides through it, her dark counterpart room greeting her once more, illuminated only by the starlight filtering from the windows and the glow of the portal. As Ganondorf appears, he ignites a glowing ball in the palm of his hand, sending it above them to light their way as he makes his way to exit the room.

“I’ll be taking a trip into the city tomorrow. It will be market day… if you would like to accompany me?” he suggests, his gaze focused ahead.

“Yes!” Hilda swiftly accepts. “I would love to! I can’t wait to see it!”

“Very well,” he smirks at her enthusiasm before inquiring, “I assume you have been practicing?”

“Yes!” She exclaims excitedly, pulling the stone from her pocket in preparation to demonstrate her improvement.

He chuckles at her as they walk. “You brought it with you?”

“Of cause,” she responds confidently. “It’s been extremely helpful.”

“It has? Interesting… it is just an ordinary piece of obsidian after all,” he muses.

“What!” She stops walking, her expression incredulous. “But… I could feel it! It gave me energy!” She argues.

“No,” he sniggers, “it was a placebo, nothing more.” He walks on, Hilda following close behind, lost in thought. “You didn’t believe in yourself, so I gave you something to believe in.”

“Is there even a Heart of the Mountain stone?” she inquires, slightly disappointed.

“Hmmm, no. Not that I am aware of,” he informs.

“So, you lied to me,” she remarks, agitated.

“Hmmm… yes,” Ganondorf begins warily before ensuring, “but only to benefit you. Are you not relieved to know that it was you all along?”

“I guess…” she remarks uncertainly while pocketing the stone.

Ganondorf leads the way out of the castle and into the grounds, his hand gesture dissipating the orb of light before them. “Your turn. You can light the way from here on. I am sure you know your way to the gardens by now?”

She nods, focusing her energy as a small lilac ball forms within her hand.

“Now send it above us and hold it,” he instructs.

It slowly rises above them before spluttering out.

“Again,” he encourages softly.

She forms the orb once more, floating it above them. The light flickers as she concentrates on holding it steady. It bobs up and down, dimming as it rises and brightening as it falls, struggling to maintain both its light and levitation. Slowly, the orb drifts to the ground before she lets it vanish completely, a disappointed sigh escaping her lips.

“May I?” Ganondorf requests, extending his hand to her.

As she accepts his hand, a rush of energy passes through her, waves of nervousness and excitement fluttering in her chest. She pushes those unanticipated feelings aside and focuses on forming and levitating the glowing orb as Ganondorf’s magic trickles into her, supporting her efforts. Slowly, he weans her from his source as she learns to maintain it on her own.

As he releases her hand, the strange sensations vanish from her body, leaving her calm once again and slightly confused. She stares at him, “What was that? I felt… different. Like I was feeling emotions that weren’t mine,” she questions.

Ganondorf’s eyes flick away from her, his hand flexing tensely by his side before he admits, “You were… feeling as I felt.”

She pauses before inquiring seriously, “I make you feel nervous?”

He clears his throat. “Of sorts…” He trails off before turning more light-hearted, “Perhaps my body still recalls you taking all my magic last time I shared it with you,” he quips.

She smiles before he gestures for her to lead the way. Her light had gone out twice before they reached the garden, and they had stopped each time to wait as she summoned it forth once again. As they reached a large garden bed full of wilted flowers, he snuffed out her light, leaving them standing there in the darkness.

Her eyes cross to him, waiting for instructions, but he remains silent, looking out across the garden. “What now?” she queries.

“Patience,” he whispers enigmatically.

She follows his gaze across the wilted field. “Are we waiting for something?” she inquires softly.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” he advises, still not meeting her eyes.

Frustration bubbles within her as she stares at him. Why did he have to be so mysterious? she wonders. As she gazes out into the darkness, her eyes slowly adjust, and she begins to list in her head what she can see.

Dead flowers.

A shattered greenhouse.

A dried pond.

Weeds.

Bored, she continues scanning the ground, wondering. what I am supposed to be looking for and how will I know when I finds it. Or is Ganondorf simply taunting me? His idea of a joke, seeing how long I'll foolishly scan for something that isn’t even there? After his little lie about the stone, I wouldn’t put it past him.

Her eyes subtly drift to him for confirmation of his trickery when she catches a glimpse. Her mouth drops open as her eyes lift to the billions of stars illuminating the night sky, their shimmering light casting a mesmerizing glow over the landscape below. The full moon hangs suspended like a celestial lantern, its soft silver light bathing the castle walls and gardens in an ethereal glow.

She can’t help but gawk in awe as a comet streaks across the sky, leaving a trail of shimmering stardust in its wake. The sight is so breathtakingly beautiful that for a moment, she forgets everything else—why she was here, the darkness, the wilted flowers, even Ganondorf himself—as she becomes lost in the magnificence of the universe unfolding above her.

The stars, like delicate pearls scattered across a velvet cloth, form intricate patterns and constellations she has never seen before. Her eyes flit from one cluster of twinkling lights to another, searching for familiarity amidst the vast expanse of the unfamiliar.

After a moment of silent contemplation, she whispers, “The constellations are different here.”

Her eyes dart to Ganondorf who was also absorbed in viewing the brilliant display laid out above, admiring it like an intricate painting.

“Indeed,” he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with reverence. “A world so like our own, yet entirely different at the same time.”

Hilda's gaze returns to the heavens once more, the serenity of the moment drifting over them like a gentle breeze as she etches the rare image into her mind. Moments silently pass between them, the initial awe gradually giving way to anticipation as the purpose of their late-night rendezvous comes to the forefront of her mind.

Breaking the tranquil silence, she voices her impatience, "So, what is my lesson?"

A tiny smile tugs at the corners of Ganondorf's lips at her eagerness. Without a word, he stoops and plucks a wilted flower from the garden. With a wave of his hand, his magic envelops the flower, coaxing it to life once more. The petals, once withered and dull, now burst with vibrant hues of blue and white as the flower blooms anew.

He offers it to her, and she accepts it with curiosity, delicately inspecting its revitalized form.

"It's still glowing," she notes, observing the subtle bluish-white luminescence that now emanates from the lily-like flower, replacing the lilac glow it had possessed before.

“It is a Silent Princess. They're extremely rare in our world; they glow at night,” Ganondorf informs.

“So, I'll be learning how to bring things back to life?” Hilda asks with intrigue.

“Not quite. These plants are not dead, simply weak; we will be merely healing them,” he explains, his tone cautious as he continues, “To revive a life, or one close to death, requires… an exchange."

Hilda glances up at him, her expression puzzled, her head tilting slightly in curiosity.

“To give life, you need to take another of equal value,” Ganondorf elaborates.

“Oh,” Hilda responds quietly, the notion of being able to prevent death instantly vanishing from her thoughts. She then inquires, “What would happen if you tried to resurrect someone without… an exchange?"

“I would assume that your own life would become the exchange,” Ganondorf replies solemnly, redirecting the conversation, “Healing, on the other hand, is simply energizing a body to make it heal faster. But there is a catch. The more severely injured you are, the faster your magic will drain and take to recharge. So, healing more than just a few deep cuts on yourself will prove difficult.”

“What if… someone chopped off, like, your arm or… a finger?” Hilda asks subtly, her mind drifting to her brother's missing digit. “Could you grow it back?”

“I… wouldn’t recommend finding out,” Ganondorf responds with a curious smile.

“What about healing someone else’s missing limb?” Hilda pursues.

“Hmm… well, I suppose the missing limb would require an exchange of another’s limb,” Ganondorf proposes.

Hilda looks off absentmindedly, the ideas fading from reality as she contemplates the implications.

“I am sure you would have begun to realize that complex magic is dependent on your emotions,” Ganondorf steers the topic back on track. “If you are scared, it will protect. If you are angry, it will attack. If you are sad—”

“-It will heal,” Hilda cuts across him, a note of understanding in her voice.

He smiles, nodding his head in approval. He plucks a handful of wilted flowers and holds them out to her. A subtle smirk graces his lips as she tucks the rejuvenated flower behind her ear before accepting the bunch.

“Grief will fuel your healing abilities. Close your eyes,” he instructs gently.

Hilda complies, her mind focusing on his words as he continues, “Imagine these flowers are a loved one. They are injured, in need of help that only you can supply.”

Hilda's mind floods with memories of her brother's screams muffled by the bit in his mouth, the sight of blood spurting from the stump where his finger once was. The tears of pain streaming down his scrunched face as he clutched his mutilated hand. The helpless shock she felt as she watched, frozen in place, as the guards released his arms, allowing him to collapse to the ground where he proceeded to empty his stomach in agony.

Light seeps through her closed eyelids as she focuses her energy, feeling the subtle shift as the flowers in her hand begin to rejuvenate, their once withered forms now blooming with renewed vitality.

“Now, try the whole patch,” Ganondorf directs, his eyes studying her progress as they flutter open to inspect her work.

She casts a dubious glance at the sprawling patch covering over a quarter of an acre, her raised eyebrow betraying a hint of scepticism. Ganondorf's unwavering gaze urges her forward, silently encouraging her to continue the task at hand.

Standing before the expansive field, Hilda takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the challenge ahead. Meanwhile, Ganondorf settles himself onto a nearby bench, making himself comfortable. His anticipation is palpable as he watches her intently, his hands clasped together in expectation, his chin resting thoughtfully upon them.

As Hilda delves deeper into her memories, her mind drifts back to a particularly painful moment. Her mother had been crying the morning before, overwhelmed by the burden of illness and poverty that plagued their family. Just days earlier, I had suffered another seizure, draining what little funds they had on medicine to ease my recovery. With winter tightening its grip, food was scarce, and they had resorted to eating scraps to survive.

The following day, her mother had yet to return from hunting, leaving Knil, at just twelve years old, to gather firewood from the surrounding forest. Eager to prove himself as a provider, he toiled tirelessly. Feeling slightly better and eager to pitch in, I had accompanied him to town to sell bundles of wood.

We had barely scraped together enough to buy a small loaf of bread, which we devoured hungrily within seconds. But it wasn't enough. I complained, asked for more, selfishly craving another bite, prompting Knil to return to the bakery.

I came running when I heard his pleading voice, saw him dangling like a mouse from the town guard's hand outside the baker's shop as the furious baker accused him of stealing.

It was my fault he lost his finger that day, because I couldn’t push away my hunger as he did. If only I had been stronger, if only I had been able to contribute, maybe Knil wouldn't have been forced to steal. But I was a burden, always ill, burning through our rupees. My family’s poverty was all because of me, because I was weak-

"Whoa," Ganondorf's voice startles her from behind as he rushes to her side. She opens her eyes to see a small patch of the plants smouldering in front of her as Ganondorf swiftly smothers the flames with his own magic. Her sadness had unintentionally turned to anger in her attempt to rejuvenate the plants, only to end up burning them instead. Her heart sinks with regret as she grimaces apologetically.

Ganondorf lays a comforting hand on her shoulder and offers a reassuring smile. “It can be difficult without an actual visual. Memories can sometimes bring out… other emotions,” he remarks gently, his hand drifting from her shoulder as he draws his sword from its scabbard.

Hilda's hand flies to her mouth in shock, her eyes widening as Ganondorf runs the blade along his palm with a stifled groan. She watches in horror as a bloody line opens across it.

“What have you done!” she squeals, unable to look away as blood trickles down his fingers, splattering on the gravel path.

“Giving you a …visual,” he groans through gritted teeth. “Now… heal it.”

“What! What if I set you on fire!” Hilda protests.

He sniggers through the pain, “I trust you. Just – try and hurry up, it does hurt."

With hesitant hands, she holds her palms over his injured one, her own eyes locking onto his as they grimace in discomfort. Her magic begins to flow, casting a warm, soothing glow over the wound. She watches intently as the trickle of blood lessens, Ganondorf's hand gradually relaxing as the cut shrinks and seals itself, until finally, there is nothing left but a faint scar.

His fingers delicately wrap around her glowing hand before gently redirecting them towards the garden. “Keep going,” he instructs softly, his touch lingering for a moment before releasing her.

Her light creeps across the field, illuminating the once wilted flowers as they begin to spring back to life. The painful memory remains fresh in her mind, the metallic scent of blood lingering in her senses, fuelling her healing efforts with a mixture of determination and discomfort.

As she focuses her powers, a consistent current streams from her hands, draining her of energy with each passing moment. Vibrancy slowly returns to the field, the colours becoming more vivid as she pours her magic into the task at hand.

However, despite her efforts, she begins to feel the strain of her exertion. The fatigue weighs heavily upon her, her limbs growing heavy as the magic takes its toll. With each passing second, it becomes harder to maintain her concentration.

With a weary pant, she finally admits defeat, her hands lowering before the half complete job. "I can't... that's all I can do," she declares, her voice carrying the weight of exhaustion and disappointment.

"Honourable effort," he praises, his tone genuinely impressed.

Hilda can't help but watch in awe as Ganondorf effortlessly restores the remainder of the area, his mastery over magic evident in every movement. Only the scorched patch remains, a testament to the limits of even his power.

She sighs softly, recognizing her own magical shortcomings compared to Ganondorf’s skill.

Ganondorf seems to catch her exasperated breath, prompting him to inquire, “Hilda, how long have you been practicing magic?”

Hilda counts back the days since her arrival before muttering sheepishly, “A week.”

Ganondorf nods before asking, “And how long do you think I’ve been practicing magic?”

Hilda looks up at him, studying his features—the lines around his eyes, the silver strands in his red hair—before hazarding a guess. "Forty years?" she replies tentatively.

He nods once more, his smile kind and reassuring. “For such a short amount of time, I assure you, Hilda, you are exceeding spectacularly.”

She looks away, a sheepish smile lighting her features as his words of encouragement warm her, dispelling some of her self-doubt with his reasonable perspective.

Her attention is drawn away from her thoughts by a pair of moths fluttering past, their wings sparkling violet in the moonlight. Ganondorf subtly manipulates them to flutter around her, a playful attempt to lift her spirits.

She giggles delightedly as their gentle wings brush against her face. She gently bats them away before he releases them, their ethereal glow fading as he allows the moths to drift away across the garden once again.

As they grin at each other, Hilda's expression turns thoughtful, a furrow appearing between her brows. "Does that… hurt them?" she asks.

"I'm... not sure," Ganondorf replies, rubbing his arm anxiously at the unexpected question. "I've never been able to ask."

“Try it on me," Hilda suggests innocently, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

“What,” Ganondorf blurts out in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up.

“You can make me… do a funny dance,” she chuckles as she spins in a circle, her movements light and carefree. “Pretend to be a cucco. Something stupid.”

“You would… trust me… to control you?” He clarifies, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

Her eyes seem to twinkle as she replies, “You trusted that I could heal you. So… I trust you.” She closes her eyes and holds her arms open to him, a playful challenge in her stance.

He gazes in awe as she offers herself to be puppeteered by him, the temptation to exert control over her almost overwhelming. A willing vessel would be so easy to influence, he contemplates, the tantalizing suggestion gripping his thoughts as his powers drift over to her of their own accord.

They curl around the faint glow of her relaxed and calmed mind, tenderly, undecidedly caressing her aura. All he needed to do was to sink his claws in, and in an instant, she would be under his command.

Savouring the tentative moment, he cradles her open mind. He can almost hear her muffled, joyful hum echoing in the recesses of her mind as she awaits his influence. His magic tenses around her consciousness, curling tighter with each passing moment as he finds himself struggling to resist the allurement any longer.

His own mind racing with possibilities, his veins pulsing with anticipation as a leering smirk begins to curl his lips...

“Don’t!” He startles in alarm, relinquishing the delicate hold he had had upon her, instantly averting his eyes from her as he balls his fists beside his tensed body.

He had just visualised it. Had entertained thoughts… images of acts most wicked. If they slipped into his mind while she was under his command, even if unintended, she would be forced to carry them out, and he doubted if he was strong enough to make her stop once it began.

She blinks up at him in confusion, sensing his discomfort but unable to discern its source.

“I…” He breathes, his voice strained. “I promised not to… mesmerize intelligent beings,” he admits, his guilt-ridden face partially hidden behind his hand.

“But you said that you can do whatever you like when you have magic?” She remarks, naively unaware of the treacherous thoughts that had lurked in his mind only mere moments ago. 

“Yes… But… Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Perhaps… some lines are best left uncrossed,” he advises, his gaze finally meeting hers.

“Could you teach me how to-”

“No,” Ganondorf interrupts bluntly, his tone firm.

“Why not?” She protests, confusion furrowing her brow.

“Because you don’t need to know it. It is extremely difficult. It can cause massive repercussions, and if one inconvenient thought pops into your head whilst controlling another… you could regret it for the rest of your life,” he concludes solemnly, his expression serious.

Hilda observes him closely, her eyes narrowing before she challenges, “You just don’t want to teach it to me so I don’t become more powerful than you, is that it?” Her voice rises with accusation, her determination evident.

Ganondorf almost glowers before looking away, his arms crossing defensively. “No,” he responds firmly, his tone tinged with frustration. “It’s because people will never fully trust you if they know you are capable of mesmerizing them,” he explains, his voice heavy with the weight of experience.

Hilda silent closes the distance between them. Without a word, she reaches out, her touch light and comforting as she rests her hand on his muscular arm. Caught off guard by the gesture, a subtle twitch runs through the muscles as she makes contact. His gaze, once distant and guarded, softens as it meets hers, revealing a vulnerability that he seldom allows others to see.

“I trust you,” she says sincerely, her eyes sparkling with sincerity and admiration.

You shouldn't, he thinks to himself, a mixture of guilt and longing swirling within him like a tempest. You know nothing of the real me, you see only the mask I wear.

The face under the mask... Is that... even my true face? A small voice whispers in the depths of his conscience, perhaps the facade he had carefully crafted for her alone was not entirely false, but a reflection of the man he wanted to be?

“You’ve guided me to be better, stronger, and…” She trails off, her voice catching slightly before she continues, “I will always be grateful for that.”

It was what he wanted, her eternal gratitude, a crucial piece of his plan to gain her loyalty. But why now, on the precipice of success, did it feel… wrong? Was it because he himself had travelled this path at her age? Was it because he saw in her the innocence he had lost, consumed by his ruthless ambitions and the insatiable lust for power? Was it because he was leading her down that exact slippery slope from which there was no return?

Her gaze drifts to the ground, her shoes idly tracing patterns in the dirt, “You look after me… as if…” She hesitates once more, searching for the right words.

He swallows nervously, the rawness of her emotions stirring something deep within him, even as he suppresses his own conflicting feelings. His arm tingles beneath her delicate touch, a tangible reminder of the fragile connection between them.

She releases a quivering breath, her voice barely above a whisper as she continues, "As if I was... your own daughter."

The words hit him like a sledgehammer, sending shockwaves through his entire being. Daughter? The very thought sends an icy spear ruthlessly plunging into his chest, the air ripped from his lungs. Daughter! She saw him as a father figure! That was far from how he wanted her to see him. If he wanted her as a daughter, he would have just married Zelda!

The realization is like a dagger to his pride, and he struggles to maintain his composure as a myriad of conflicting emotions swirl within him. Her eyes, soft and expectant, bore into his, waiting for a response.

“I… um…” He stammers, his voice barely above a whisper as he hesitates to form a response. His throat feels tight, constricted by the weight of his emotions. With a pained, shuddering sigh, he brings his other hand on top of hers, his voice strained, “Thank you. I… care deeply for you.”

She smiles warmly at him, her eyes reflecting genuine affection. Despite his inner turmoil, he returns the gesture, though the smile doesn't quite reach his disappointed eyes.

Clearing his throat, he gently removes her hand from his arm and suggests, “We should return back. It’s… quite late.” With that, he turns away, unable to bear the intensity of her gaze any longer, and begins to walk back towards the castle, the weight of his conflicting emotions heavy upon his shoulders.

As they walk back to her chamber, silence envelops them like a heavy cloak, each lost in their own thoughts. Stepping through the portal, the soft candlelight of her room greets her eyes, casting a warm glow over the space. Her mind is abuzz with thoughts of the newfound connection, the warmth of a potential father figure to embrace as her own.

“Good night,” Ganondorf bids hastily as he makes to leave her chamber. Hilda, absorbed in her own giddy thoughts, misses the slight sourness in his tone.

“Night,” she calls after him softly, her fingers delicately removing the flower from behind her ear and placing it in a goblet of water as the door clicks shut from behind her.

With a gentle sigh, she withdraws the simple stone from her pocket, turning it over in her hand as if searching for the energy she once believed she had found within. Finding nothing, she sets it beside the glowing flower before slipping into her night clothes and contentedly crawling into her large bed.

She drifts off into a peaceful slumber with a lingering smile, the events of the evening lingering in her mind like a pleasant dream.

Chapter Text

The market buzzes with energy, merchants hawking their wares and eager customers bartering for the best deals. Hilda flits from stall to stall, her eyes alight with curiosity as she absorbs the vibrant tapestry of sights, sounds, and smells in the bustling market square at Hyrule's heart.

Ganondorf trails behind her, his irritation palpable as he occasionally shoots glances at Nabooru who insisted on accompanying them and also bringing her twelve-year-old daughter, Riju, along.

Despite his irritation, he maintains an imposing presence, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as the royal guards keep a vigilant watch, ensuring the civilians maintain a respectful distance.

Ganondorf’s mind can’t help but dwell on the sting of Hilda’s comment from last night. Her current view of him, no doubt shaped by her perception of his age and experience, served as a harsh reminder of the years he now had behind him.

While she seemed to seek a conventional father figure, he couldn’t help but contemplated a different interpretation of her "daddy issues." A role he was more than willing to play, but likely not in the same way she had anticipated. A wicked smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he contemplates the possibilities.

He pushes the thought asides before reflecting seriously, her view of him as a father figure wasn't entirely detrimental. In fact, it could serve as a solid foundation for something more profound. It was an acknowledgment of the trust and security she found in his presence, qualities that formed the cornerstone of any meaningful connection.

And though she hadn't explicitly labelled him as her father, her remarks spoke to the dynamic between them, leaving room for interpretation and evolution. Perhaps it was time for him to be a little less subtle in his flirtation, to reveal his more sensual and intimate side in order to gently shift her perspective. This morning's venture would provide the perfect opportunity to demonstrate his wealth and generosity, to show her the provider he could be.

And after their excursion, he entertains the idea of inviting her for a private tour of his hall of treasures, a gesture intended to underscore his position of power and influence. It was an opportunity to offer her a glimpse into the opulent life he could provide, a life of luxury and indulgence that he hoped would capture her imagination and draw her closer to him.

As he observes the two teenage girls before him, he couldn't help but be struck by their stark differences. Riju, raised as royalty, moved with a regal grace, every step deliberate, every word measured. In contrast, Hilda's excitement seemed to radiate from her, her movements animated and her words tumbling out in a rush. Despite their contrasting demeanours, their heights were roughly the same, though as a Gerudo, Riju was destined to reach at least six feet tall.

But what truly captivated Ganondorf's attention was the shared trait they both possessed: pointed ears, a hallmark of Hylian lineage. It was a departure from the traditional rounded ears that had characterized the Gerudo for centuries, a shift that intrigued him deeply. The change hinted at a closer connection between the Gerudo and the Hylians, a melding of bloodlines that seemed to fascinate him.

As he watched them, he couldn't shake the feeling of admiration mingled with envy for the Hylians. Their divine lineage, their pointed ears believed to connect them to messages from their goddess, filled him with a mixture of longing and resentment. The legend of the goddess raising her chosen descendants to the sky, leaving the other human races, including the Gerudo, to fend for themselves against the demons below, only fuelled his conflicted emotions.

In his eyes, they were the epitome of perfection.

In the cozy confines of the marquee, the morning sun casts a warm glow through the translucent fabric, its rays filtering through the bright red canopy and painting the interior with a soft, amber light. Hilda's eyes alight with excitement as she sifts through the exotic fabrics, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns that seem to dance in the sunlight's embrace.

"Princess Riju, what about this one?" Hilda beams, extending a vibrant yellow and blue silk sash towards her new companion.

Riju's eyes sparkle with interest as she accepts the fabric, wrapping it around her waist to admire the intricate patterns. "It's quite lovely," she agrees, a smile playing on her lips.

"That's definitely the one, it looks stunning on you," Hilda compliments, her enthusiasm infectious.

"<Sarqso>," Riju responds with a smile, folding up the fabric and handing it to her servant to complete the transaction.

"What does that mean?" Hilda inquires, her curiosity piqued as they move on to the next stall, the excitement of discovery shining in her eyes.

"It means 'thank you'," Riju explains, her gaze now drawn to an array of shoes displayed before them.

"Sar-k-so," Hilda repeats, trying to mimic the pronunciation.

"SarQso," Riju gently corrects, encouraging her with a warm smile.

"Sarkkso?" Hilda tries again, determination evident in her expression. "Sarq-kso." With a satisfied nod, she acknowledges her progress.

Ganondorf can't help but snigger at her attempts, finding amusement in her struggle with his native language. Hilda catches the glint in his eye and approaches him, a playful challenge dancing in her gaze. "Why don't you ever speak Gerudo, my lord?" she questions, her smile masking a hint of mischief.

"As the king of Hyrule, my lady, I must remain proficient in the Hylian language. Every word I speak should be clearly recognisable by all," Ganondorf retorts, his tone carrying a hint of conceit.

Hilda eyes him suspiciously, not entirely convinced by his explanation.

He holds her gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes. Smirking, he replies suavely and fluently in Gerudo, "<Saqsu aqav si Vala, vamatu aqav si Va'ina>."

Nabooru, standing off to the side, observes him with increasing disdain, her disapproval evident in her narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

Meanwhile, Hilda, intrigued by the foreign language, leans in closer, her curiosity piqued. "It sounds beautiful. What does it mean?" she asks eagerly, her eyes sparkling with fascination.

His smile lingers as he gazes intently at Hilda, his voice soft and melodic as he reveals the meaning behind the words. "Live by the sun, love by the moon."

As Hilda's eyes drift off, her thoughts consumed by the enigmatic meaning of the proverb, Ganondorf watches her with a knowing smile, sensing her intrigue and curiosity. With a subtle tilt of his head, he moves closer to her, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper.

"It's a reminder," he begins, his voice smooth and alluring, "to find harmony in life, to embrace both aspects." His gaze holds hers, a hint of intensity sparking in his eyes as he continues, "It urges us to approach our ambitions and endeavours with determination and dedication, guided by the strength and clarity represented by the sun."

Hilda listens intently, a flicker of curiosity dancing in her eyes as she absorbs his words.

"And at the same time," Ganondorf adds, his voice lowering to a soft, intimate tone. "It advises us to nurture and cherish our emotions, our connections, and the love in our lives, represented by the moon."

With a small smile, Hilda nods in understanding, her thoughts lingering on his words even as they navigate through the vacant section of the market. His subtle guidance leading them to the opposite side of the row, away from Riju and the prying eyes of her mother, creating a private bubble of conversation between them.

 "Have you been looking for your own dress for tomorrow night, my lady?" Ganondorf inquires, his tone gentle and considerate.

"I can... get my own, new dress?" Hilda asks, surprised by the unexpected offer, her eyes widening in astonishment.

"Of course," Ganondorf replies smoothly, a hint of warmth in his voice. "As my esteemed guest, it would be my honour to provide for your needs. Please," he gestures graciously around the market stalls, "Whatever you require will be yours, no matter the expense."

Hilda's expression lights up with gratitude, her eyes shimmering with admiration as she realizes the extent of Ganondorf's generosity. She furrows her brow slightly, her determination evident as she tentatively attempts the Gerudo phrase once more.

"...Sarqkso," she manages, her pronunciation imperfect but earnest.

Ganondorf's chuckle rings out warmly in response to her efforts, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "You're welcome," he assures her, a genuine warmth underlying his words.

As Hilda turns to re-join Riju at the shoe stand, her heart light with gratitude, Ganondorf's smile fades imperceptibly. He senses Nabooru's penetrating gaze fixed upon him, her disapproval palpable even from a distance. Choosing to ignore her for the moment, he distracts himself by perusing a collection of intricately crafted jewels at the next stall.

He meticulously searches through the assortment of necklaces, bracelets, and earrings, his keen eyes assessing each piece with a discerning gaze. He carefully examines the quality and purity of the materials, running his fingers over the smooth surfaces and delicate details. His attention shifts to the gemstones, evaluating their sizes, cuts, and clarity, searching for the perfect combination of elegance and sophistication.

As he sifts through the treasures, he places a few aside, the stall owner eagerly watching with hopeful anticipation, his hands rubbing together in excitement at the prospect of a bulk sale.

Satisfied with the options before him, Ganondorf pauses, his fingers thoughtfully stroking his chin as he contemplates his choices. Each item holds its own allure, each gemstone sparkling with its own inner light. Eventually, he narrows down his selection to three exquisite pieces: a golden bracelet adorned with tear drop rubies, a silver necklace featuring an oval sapphire, and a pair of delicate square emerald earrings.

“What do you think?” Hilda's voice interrupts his decision, drawing his attention away from the array of jewellery before him. Ganondorf glances over his shoulder to behold Hilda, her figure radiant as she showcases a pair of midnight blue slippers adorned with sparkling silver accents, each delicate shimmer reflecting the light with a mesmerizing allure.

"Usually, you match your accessories to the dress, not the reverse," Ganondorf suggests, offering his refined opinion as he assesses the slippers, his gaze subtly tracing over her form, noting the absence of earrings adorning her unpierced ears.

"Perhaps I like the challenge," Hilda remarks with a mischievous smile, her eyes twinkling with playful defiance.

His gaze drifts back to her petite slippers, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. "They are, however... mesmerizing," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of wonder. "Like..." He pauses, his eyes flicking curiously up to hers as he utters the word, "stars."

Hilda returns a blazing smile in agreement, confirming his theory that last night’s lesson beneath the cosmos had indeed left a lasting impression, influencing her decision in a way that fills him with delight. 

He holds her gaze, his own expression mirroring her playful smile as he gazes into her soft blue eyes. He observes the delicate curve of her jawline, the pale delicacy of her skin, his mind forming a final decision as he scoops up the necklace.

"I gave you my opinion, now give me yours," he requests, his voice low and measured, the thin chain dangling between his massive fingers as he holds it out for her judgment.

Hilda's eyes soften in awe as she takes a step closer, her gaze tracing the intricate flourishes adorning the impressive sapphire centrepiece. "It's... gorgeous," she regards softly before her eyes cross to his, a cheeky smile breaking across her features as she jests, "But… I don't think it will fit," her gaze dropping to his neck with playful mischief.

An amused chuckle rumbles from his chest, his eyes narrowing playfully on her. "Pity, my heart was so deeply set upon it," he retorts sarcastically, pausing at her giggles before adding with a twinkle in his eye, "Perhaps I'll just have to give it to you instead?"

"Me?" Hilda questions, her voice barely above a whisper, her brow furrowing in genuine surprise. Her eyes trace over the elegant necklace once more, taking in every intricate detail with a mix of awe and disbelief. The thought of something so precious, sophisticated, and utterly expensive being chosen just for her is a novel notion, warming her heart with a sense of deep appreciation and gratitude.

Her lips purse together as they tremble ever so slightly, her eyes glassy as she softly and gratefully whispers, "Thank you." Her sincerity radiating from every word.

Ganondorf only smiles kindly in response before requesting, "May I?" as he holds the necklace before her delicate neck.

Hilda's smile widens, a soft blush colouring her cheeks as she nods in assent. With a graceful movement, she lifts her hair, tilting her chin downward to allow him better access.

With a gentle touch, he delicately wraps the chain around her neck, his course fingers grazing her supple flesh as he fumbles with the short chain and tiny clasps before securing it in place.

His eyes briefly glance over the pendant, inadvertently catching a glimpse of the delicate curve of her neck, the subtle hint of her collarbone followed by the crevasse between her humble breasts before quickly averting his gaze, his cheeks reddening slightly.

He clears his throat, his composure momentarily faltering, "It… complements your eyes," he remarks, his voice soft yet sincere, his eyes dancing between Hilda's eyes and the necklace, attempting to avoid any further impropriety.

 Hilda admires the gift adorning her neck, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Thank you, it's beautiful," she expresses her gratitude, her fingers delicately tracing the intricate design of the pendant.

Suddenly, her nose twitches, detecting a tantalizing aroma wafting through the air. "What is that delicious smell?" she inquires, her eyes and nose searching for the source, her attention diverted from the necklace to the tantalizing scent beckoning her senses.

With a sense of intrigue and curiosity, Hilda trots off, sniffing the air like a hound on the hunt as Ganondorf shadows her steps, his own servant taking his place to pay for gift. The royal guards clear a path for them, their presence ensuring smooth passage through the bustling market until they reach a dessert stall.

"What. Are. They?" Hilda's eyes widen greedily at the sight of dozens of pastries, their sticky glaze glistening with temptation upon the counter.

"Cinnamon scrolls," Ganondorf informs her, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement at her enthusiasm. With a curt nod to the portly pastry chef, he sees to it that one of the delectable treats is wrapped up in a paper sheet before offering it to Hilda.

She eagerly tears off a piece of the glazed dessert before stuffing it into her mouth, letting out a delighted moan as she savours the treat. Ganondorf can't help but silently chuckle at her response, finding her unabashed enjoyment endearing.

"Mmmm... You have to try this," she insists, offering the scroll to him.

He hesitates, his gaze flickering between Hilda's outstretched hand and the sticky glaze already coating her fingers. He politely declines, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I prefer not to be sticky for the rest of the morning, Hilda—my Lady," he corrects himself with a subtle shift in demeanour, his tone respectful yet tinged with a strange mixture of amusement and discomfort in her presence. Why did she have to have this effect on him?

Hilda rolls her eyes, as if he were some typical, pampered royal afraid of getting his hands dirty before defiantly tearing off a piece of the pastry. "Bend down," she orders with a mischievous grin, holding it up to him.

Ganondorf's gaze briefly flickers towards Nabooru, preoccupied with assisting her daughter with a dress, before scanning his surroundings. The guards facing outwards would take no notice, and the commoners had moved on from the initial excitement of his presence, returning to their shopping.

It's a fleeting moment of opportunity, and he finds himself drawn to Hilda's playful smile, a smile that he's finding more and more difficult to resist.

He tentatively stoops down, giving into the temptation, a slight flush colouring his cheeks, and opens his mouth. Hilda's grin widens as she promptly places the scroll into his mouth, her fingers brushing against his lower lip in the process. The brief touch sends a jolt of desire through him, igniting a flame in his gut that he quickly pushes aside.

Straightening up, he focuses on the taste of the pastry as he passes it around his mouth, attempting to distract himself from the sensation of her touch. "It is quite good," he admits, acknowledging the delicious flavour with a hint of appreciation in his voice.

Hilda, undeterred by her inelegance, resumes her efforts in devouring the treat, leaving glaze smudged across her lips and chin. Ganondorf can't help but chuckle at the sight of her childish indulgence.

"Wh-at?" Hilda questions, her mouth still partially full as she crams the last bite into her mouth.

"You eat like a child," Ganondorf teases, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he pulls out a satin cloth from his coat and offers it to her.

She takes the cloth from him, swallowing the remains before wiping her mouth and hands clean. As she glares playfully at him, Ganondorf can't help but admire the spark in her eyes, contemplating her cunning response.

"Lady Hilda," Nabooru's voice suddenly sounds beside Ganondorf, breaking the moment. "Princess Riju needs your opinion on her dress. Can you assist her?"

Hilda quickly finishes wiping her hands and mouth before turning to join Riju, tucking the cloth into the top of her corset. Ganondorf's eyes trail her, his mind already plotting how to retrieve the now sacred cloth nestled in her breast, a playful challenge he looks forward to.

"What do you think you're doing?" Nabooru hisses, her voice filled with disapproval as Hilda moves out of earshot.

Ganondorf sighs, a sense of regret washing over him as he realizes that Nabooru had witnessed his improper interaction.

"You said your intentions were honourable, that she was to be nothing more than an ally, that you were merely training her. And now you are reciting poetry and eating from her hands in public," Nabooru scolds, her tone carrying a mix of frustration and concern.

"It was innocently harmless," Ganondorf dismisses, though his tone lacks conviction, his fingers absentmindedly tussling his hair.

Her eyes narrow, unconvinced by his feeble excuse. "Brother, let the Vehvi and her family go before you do something foolish," Nabooru instructs firmly, her concern for him evident in her voice.

"She hasn't finished her training, and besides, she likes it here," Ganondorf defends, his tone tinged with defiance.

"That's because she is naive and doesn't know that you are pining after her," Nabooru accuses, her tone sharp.

Ganondorf sneers in denial, "I do not pine-" He halts abruptly as Nabooru crosses her arms, her cold, disbelieving stare piercing through his defences.

Nabooru was no fool, he couldn't insult her intelligence any longer by pretending otherwise. He respected her too deeply to continue deceiving her. She was the only person he could confide in on this matter, knowing she could be trusted with his innermost thoughts, even if she might not like what she would hear.

With a deep sigh, he finally reveals, “I... don't wish to feel this way, Nabooru." His voice carrying the weight of his inner conflict. "She..." He struggles to articulate the complexity of his emotions. "She... weakens me," he admits reluctantly, his confession lingering heavily in the air between them.

“Do you think the Princess wanted to feel that way when she bedded her guard? To put her kingdom at risk to chase her feelings? A fact you lord over her till this day,” Nabooru relates, her words cutting through Ganondorf's defences like a sharpened blade.

His eyes narrow as her words strike a nerve within him. He feels the weight of her accusations bearing down on him, stirring a mixture of guilt and frustration.

Reluctantly, he allows her hand on his shoulder to ground him. “Go back to the castle, brother," she urges him, her voice soft but firm. His mouth opens to protest, but Nabooru cuts him off before he can utter a word. "If you care for her, you will do what is in her best interest. I will watch over her. Let her spend some time with someone her own age."

Ganondorf squeezes his eyes shut, his jaw tensing with conflicting emotions. Perhaps he was in over his head. He knows Nabooru is right, but the thought of stepping away from Hilda fills him with despair. How did he allow himself to become entangled in such a predicament?

"Your Majesty," Hilda's voice calls out to him as she approaches once more, her presence bringing a mixture of comfort and turmoil. This time, she holds a clutch in her hand, her smile faltering as she takes in his saddened expression. "Are you… okay?" She asks sincerely, her concern palpable.

A silent indecisive groan rumbles in his throat as he struggles to make his choice, torn between his duty and his desires. Through clenched teeth, he forces out the words, "I am... not feeling well. I am going to head back up to the castle. Captain Nabooru will take care of you in my absence," he informs her disheartenedly, unable to meet her gaze.

“Oh…Okay…” Hilda trails off, sensing the weight of his distress. She can't help but feel a pang of guilt, wondering if her actions had contributed to his obvious discomfort. "Will you be able to attend tomorrows feast?" she asks tentatively, hoping to ease the tension between them.

Ganondorf musters a weak smile for Hilda, attempting to assure her despite his inner turmoil. "Of course, my lady. Please, enjoy the rest of your day," he says with a forced lightness in his tone. Gesturing towards the stalls once more, he encourages her to continue exploring the market.

With a curt nod, he turns his back, leaving them behind in the bustling market square. His squad of guard’s divide, the majority following after him with only a few staying behind with Nabooru.

Each step back to the castles grows heavier then the last. Frustration and anger swirl within him like a tempest, threatening to consume him. His magic crackles beneath his skin, a volatile energy seeking release. With every breath, he struggles to contain the power, unwilling to succumb to his emotions. His muscles tense with the effort of containment, every sinew straining against the surge of magic that threatens to break free.

He knew he couldn’t risk crossing into the other realm in this mood. The mere thought of stepping foot in that world sent a shiver down his spine, knowing the overwhelming temptation it held. The second he entered, the volatile surge of his powers would overcome him, and he would unleash destruction upon everything in the vicinity. He shuddered at the thought of the aftermath, the wreckage he would have to explain to Hilda during their next lesson.

No, he decided, he would stay in this world and focus on something practical, something to clear his mind and channel his energy: training.

He would train until his muscles screamed with exhaustion, until blisters formed on his hands, until he was physically drained and his mind too exhausted to dwell on his troubles. Only then could he find solace, even if it was only temporary.

For now, he holds the storm at bay, his willpower the only barrier between himself and the chaos that lies beneath the surface.

Chapter Text

The midday sun cast a warm glow over the castle walls as Hilda makes her way through the stone archway of the open portcullis. Nabooru and Riju led the way, their figures silhouetted against the bright light, while a small entourage of guards and servants follow closely behind, carrying the newly acquired items.

Once back within the guarded walls of the castle, the guards, including Nabooru, departed, leaving Hilda to her own devices. Riju splits off with her servants, already delegating to them where her new possessions were to be placed.

Alone amidst the stone walls and lush courtyards, Hilda wanders aimlessly, her thoughts consumed by the weight of the conversation she had with Nabooru shortly after Ganondorf’s departure. The seriousness of their discussion lingers in her mind, casting a sombre shadow over her thoughts.

As she traverses the silent halls, she notices the unusual tranquillity of the castle, a stark departure from its usual bustling energy. The familiar sounds of drills being called in the training grounds and the squads of soldiers training are noticeably absent. Yet amidst this stillness, a singular sound resonates—the rhythmic thumping of steel meeting straw.

Intrigued, she follows the sound to the training grounds below to discoverer a lone, intimidating presence engrossed in practicing their sword skills.

Ganondorf, clad in nothing more than loose training breeches, his muscular form glistens with a sheen of sweat, a testament to the intensity of his training. With each fluid movement, his steel practice sword cuts through the air with precision, his strikes landing with a controlled force against the straw dummy before him.

Hilda quietly approaches, her intention to light-heartedly question him about his 'supposed illness' faltering as her gaze is drawn to the intricate dance unfolding before her—the graceful arc of his arm, the swift snap of his wrist, the powerful extension of his legs.

She can't help but admire the definition in his shoulders and back as his muscles tense and flex with each strike. Impressed by his display of strength, precision, and speed, she watches in silent awe as he moves with a grace and power that is both captivating and intimidating.

His senses alerting him to a presence behind him, Ganondorf growls in a gruff tone, "What do you want? Come to scold me some more? I’ve done as you asked."

"It's only me," Hilda's soft voice sounds from behind him, her presence offering a gentle reassurance amidst the intensity of his training.

Ganondorf's head rotates at the sound of her voice, his expression softening as he recognizes her. "Sorry, Hilda... I thought you were someone else." The tension in his muscle’s eases slightly, his guard lowering in her presence.

He crosses to the benches as Hilda delicately trails after him. He tosses aside the training sword before picking up his towel, wiping his face with it. His back remains towards her as he dabs at his torso, the subtle tension in his muscles easing with each swipe of the cloth.

Warmly, Hilda suggests, "Do we need to visit the chapel?"

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as memories of their mischievous escapades in the chapel flood his mind. "I don't think there's anything left in there after your efforts," he playfully remarks, reaching for his shirt.

"We could repair it, then-” She pauses abruptly.

His eyes flick over his shoulder to see her averting her gaze, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. She had no doubt caught a glimpse of the peculiar, golden hoops pierced through his nipples, he reflects with a tightening stomach.

“…then destroy it again," she continues, her attempt to carry on as normal only accentuating the awkwardness of the moment. Her eyes flicker nervously between him and the ground, unable to meet his gaze directly.

Swiftly, he raises his arm and slips into his breezy long-sleeved robe, grateful for the cover it provides. "Unfortunately, objects destroyed with magic cannot be repaired with it," he explains, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement that barely masks the underlying tension in the air. He had no desire to explain to her why he had them or what they were used for.

 "Oh. Well… talking can be just as helpful," Hilda suggests, taking a seat on the bench, her genuine concern evident in her voice

Why did she have to be so kind, compassionate?  With a practiced exhale, he straightens his sleeves, a feeble attempt to compose himself before sitting beside her.

"I am fine, Hilda," he reassures her, his voice tinged with a mixture of sincerity and resignation. "Better even in your presence." It's a truth he can't deny, no matter how hard he tries. It's both maddening and intoxicating, this undeniable pull he feels towards her.

It takes all his strength to change the subject, to steer their conversation away from the dangerous territory of his emotions. "Did you find a dress?" he asks, grasping for any distraction that might shield him from the turbulent whirlwind of feelings swirling within him.

"I did," Hilda admits, her voice carrying a weight of uncertainty as she bravely confesses, "Nabooru... spoke to me."

A familiar surge of anger bubbles within him. "Did she? And what did she say?" he questions, his tone betraying the simmering venom beneath the surface.

Hilda hesitates before speaking, her words laced with uncertainty. "She said I should treat you as a king... and not... as a friend," she admits, her voice wavering slightly. "But… you are more than a friend.”

As the anger fades from his eyes, Ganondorf's expression softens, replaced by a raw vulnerability as he observes Hilda grappling with her own internal conflict.

“You're... my... dad?" she ventures tentatively, her gaze searching his face for a reaction.

There it was again, the truth laid bare before them, no longer cloaked in implication but stated as if it were an indisputable fact. He should have seen it coming, but nevertheless, it does little to soften the blow.

She gazes at him expectantly, her eyes filled with a vulnerability that tugs at his heartstrings. It's as if she has just bestowed upon him her most precious treasure, and he can't help but feel the weight of her trust and affection bearing down on him.

His heart aches with the knowledge that he cannot be what she truly desires. He gazes into her anxious eyes as she waits for his response, a response that has the power to redefine their relationship.

But as he searches for the right words, he chooses to relent and offers her a warm smile, though it quickly fades. "I… don't know how to be a father, Hilda." he confesses, his voice tinged with a heavy sigh. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t confess what he felt, couldn’t stand to see the illusion shatter in her eyes.

She wraps her arms around his torso, her voice filled with sincerity. "I think you're doing a great job," she declares, affectionately nuzzling her face into his core.

His stomach turns at the gesture, at what it now symbolised between them. Defeatedly, he returns the hug, finding a semblance of comfort in her embrace.

At least he could take some delight in the fact that she had chosen him as her father figure, over her real father. It was a small victory that brought him a sense of satisfaction amidst the turmoil of his emotions. Perhaps he could find some solace in embracing the roll, even if it wasn't the exact kind of relationship he desired from her. Maybe it would be enough?

Reflecting on his own experiences, he couldn't help but draw parallels to his relationship with Nabooru. She had become his sister in all but blood rather than a potential romantic partner after all.

During their first raid as teenagers, he had mustered the courage to discuss marriage with her, intending to propose. However, her nervous response shattered his expectations. She confessed that she had no desire to marry him or any man.

At first, resentment surged within him, fuelled by the belief that she would rather seek the company of other women over him, the rare and coveted Gerudo male promised to her since birth.

Yet, any lingering resentment dissipated when their raid was abruptly cut short by tragic news. Queen Urbosa, Nabooru's mother, had fallen ill and passed away during their week-long absence. In the face of grief and loss, he set aside his personal desires and embraced the role of a supportive friend to Nabooru. Shortly after, when he was crowned king of the Gerudo, he made the reluctant decision to liberate Nabooru from her obligation of marriage.

In freeing Nabooru from the constraints of tradition, she had awarded him the consolation prize of the title ‘brother’. In doing so, their relationship underwent a transformative journey, their bond deepened, and they began to see each other as true siblings, built on mutual respect, trust, and understanding.

And now, faced with a similar situation with Hilda, he couldn't help but wonder if history was repeating itself, if he could find a similar sense of fulfilment in this new role, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires once again.

Chapter Text

The grandeur of the great hall was matched only by the anticipation and excitement that filled it. Soldiers, lords, ladies, and royalty mingled together, creating a vibrant tapestry of colours and voices. This evening's entertainment had drawn a large crowd, and the hall was abuzz with lively conversations and laughter.

Enchanting melodies drift in the air as musicians weave their way through the crowd. The sound of drums, flutes, lutes, and other exotic instruments blends together, creating a symphony of captivating rhythms that resonate deep within the hearts of the listeners. Heads bob, and feet tap along to the infectious beats, infusing the hall with an irresistible energy.

As Ganondorf makes his entrance through a side door, a hush falls over the hall. All eyes turn towards him, and the guests rise from their seats as a mark of respect for their king.

As he assumes his position at the centre of the table, his presence commands the attention of all in the grand hall. Elevated on a platform, the royal table stands as a symbol of authority, facing out towards the four other long tables that stretch across the expanse of the hall. As he settles into his seat, his subjects follow suit, their anticipation palpable in the air as they await the commencement of the night's festivities.

The music commences once more as acrobats gracefully enter the scene, their nimble bodies moving with seemingly effortless agility. They soar through the air, executing intricate flips, spins, and somersaults that leave the spectators in awe of their physical prowess. Gasps of admiration mingled with applause as their acrobatic feats push the boundaries of what seemed humanly possible.

His gaze lingers on Hilda, seated at the far end of the table, surrounded by her family. Zelda, ever vigilant, maintains a watchful eye, determined to keep them apart. Even Riju, temporarily seated beside Hilda, engages in a light-hearted discussion with her, their laughter echoing through the hall.

He observes them with a bittersweet smile, glad to see the joy on Hilda’s face, even if he can't fully share in it himself. Taking a sip from his goblet, the wine momentarily distracts him from his thoughts.

Beside him, Nabooru and Pyra are engrossed in their own conversations, their shared laughter only serving to underscore his own solitude. Envy stirs within him as he overhears their affectionate exchanges, a reminder of the woman Nabooru had chosen to take as her partner over him.

Sitting here now, amidst the laughter, joy, love, and life that envelopes the room, he is painfully reminded of why he stopped attending these events. It feels as if he's frozen at the edge of time, an outsider looking in, forced to watch the world come alive and thrive without him.

Despite his power, his position, and his riches, he realizes the fleeting nature of it all. In the grand scheme of things, he would fade from this world, alone and forgotten, his legacy ending with his last breath.

Alone in life... and in death. The words echo in his mind. He kicks back the rest of his wine, temporally drowning out his sense of detachment.

A servant replenishes his goblet.

He takes another swig.  

Only a few tables away, Link struggles with own sense of isolation. Despite immersing himself in the festivities, drinking and laughing with his comrades, a persistent melancholy clings to his heart. His eyes often wander towards the royal table, observing the family unit from which he feels painfully excluded. He watches his children, seated side by side, oblivious and uncaring to his presence in the crowd. His gaze lingers on Zelda, the love he had ensnared in Ganondorf’s grasp due to his own selfishness and resentment.

The smile that graces his lips fades as these thoughts take hold, prompting him to take a long sip of his mead. His attention shifts back to the performers weaving through the rows, seeking solace and distraction in their lively show. He engages in conversations with his comrades, their banter and laughter providing a temporary reprieve from his inner turmoil.

Cheers erupt around the hall as the fire eaters make their entrance. Flames dance on their tongues, creating a mesmerizing display that illuminates the hall with a warm glow. Gasps of awe and admiration ripple through the onlookers as the performers execute daring feats, manipulating the fire with skill and precision.

Ganondorf, lost in his thoughts, remains oblivious to their talents. The bustling atmosphere and lively conversations blend into a dull ringing in his ears as the night drags on. The wine, once bold and rich, now tastes rancid in his mouth. His face aches from the scowl drawn across it, the volatile energy simmering just beneath his skin.

He slams his goblet onto the table with a resounding thud. Enough. He had endured enough. Perhaps there was a quadrant in Lorule that Hilda would never see, a place where he could obliterate everything in sight. The idea of unleashing his destructive power, of finally giving in to the chaotic energy simmering beneath his skin, tempts him as he violently scrapes his chair back.

Just as he braces to stand, ready to give in to his darker impulses, Hilda slips into the chair beside him, her presence like a cooling balm on his fiery rage. He subtly settles back into his seat, his eyes sliding across to Hilda.

"Thank you for organizing tonight," she says genuinely, a joyous twinkle in her eyes. "I've never had so much fun in my life."

"I'm glad to hear you're having a wonderful time," he replies, the sourness of his mood dissipating.

He takes a moment to admire her closely. Her golden hair, styled in loose curls and adorned with silver hairpins, frames her sweet, youthful face perfectly. Her dress, a stunning sapphire blue with silver embroidery reminiscent of starlight, flows gracefully to the floor. The sight of his sapphire necklace, still delicately wrapped around her neck, fills his gaze with a slight glint of possession.

"You look absolutely spectacular this evening, Hilda," he compliments, his voice rich with sincerity.

"Thank you." Hilda blushes at his words, a shy smile playing on her lips. She lets out a mock sigh and turns to him, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "I had no idea what ladies of the court go through to look presentable," she pretends to complain. "Hours of primping, hairstyling, makeup. I don’t know how they do it every day."

He chuckles softly at her exaggeration. "I can imagine it was quite the ordeal."

“But I do feel incredible,” she admits, straightening out the creases in her dress, her eyes glowing with a newfound confidence.

Ganondorf leans in closer, his voice laced with a subtle magnetism. "You truly shine tonight, Hilda," he says, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words. "But your radiance transcends any fancy dress or adornments. It emanates from within you, from the depths of your spirit and the genuine charm that defines you."

Hilda couldn't help but shrink in on herself, feeling a mixture of bashfulness and delight at his genuine admiration before the sight and sound of jugglers weaving their way through the crowd capture their attention.

As they watch the mesmerizing display of precision and timing, Ganondorf inquires, his eyes drifting from the jugglers to Hilda. "So, which of the entertainers is your favourite?"

Hilda’s face lights up with enthusiasm as her gaze drifts to the band. "Definitely the musicians," she replies, her voice filled with admiration. "The lute player is outstanding." She remarks as she eyes the young man strumming his instrument, a nervous blush pooling in her cheeks.

Ganondorf notices her gaze and a twinge of resentment flickers within him, the green flames of jealousy dancing in his eyes as he stares down the suitor.

"Yes," he growls, his voice betraying his inner turmoil. "He is quite impressive... considering the simplicity of such an instrument. Easily mastered, requiring very little skill and dedication." His words judgmental and harsh.

Hilda's eyes widen in surprise at Ganondorf’s unexpected criticism. She leans in closer, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Oh really, do you believe you could do better?" she questions, her voice laced with scepticism.

Ganondorf meets her gaze, a confident smirk curling his lips. "Absolutely," he replies with unwavering certainty. "For I have mastered the most complex of instruments. One of grandeur and intricacy that demands true skill and dedication."

Hilda's eyebrows raise in intrigue, her playful challenge turning into genuine curiosity. "You can play an instrument?" she queries, her voice holding a hint of challenge and disbelief. "I will have to see it to believe it."

His smirk widens as he accepts the challenge, determined to impress her with his musical prowess. “Then allow me to prove it," he declares, his voice filled with confidence as he rises from his chair.

“Very well,” Hilda smirks back, her disbelief turning into anticipation as she rises with him.

His gaze drifts past Hilda to her mother’s hawk-like eyes upon them before he suggests, “I shall go and prepare. I’ll have the guards escort you to the Cabinet in, say… ten minutes. There, you will witness the true depth of my talent and the intricate melodies that flow from my fingertips,” he boasts dramatically. He would leave it in Hilda’s hands, whether she decided to conceal the private performance from her family.

“Cabinet?” she inquires, her head tilting ever so slightly with confusion.

“My… retiring room,” he clarifies with a polite smile.

“Oh,” Hilda blushes at her own naivety. “I shall look forward to it. I expect to be amazed.” Her smile grows, a mix of anticipation and admiration.

Ganondorf smirks confidently. "I assure you, you will not be disappointed.” Placing a hand on his chest, he bows his head. “My lady.”

Hilda beams before exaggerating a curtsey. “My lord,” she replies with a mischievous smile.

He directs a subtle, snide smirk towards Zelda as she cranes her neck in an attempt to overhear their conversation. As Hilda rises, he whispers a reminder, “Ten minutes.” With that, he turns and strides to the exit, his mind alight with ideas of musical compositions to impress Hilda with.

Chapter Text

With an intrigued smirk, Hilda watches Ganondorf saunter off before reluctantly taking a seat beside her family once more. Her mother’s watchful eyes bore into her, an unasked question on her lips that Hilda purposefully ignores. She takes up her goblet of light wine, her fingers drumming excitedly against the cool silver as she counts down the minutes to the musical challenge that Ganondorf is to unfold.

After a few well-timed yawns, she stands to excuse herself, hoping to sneak away to Ganondorf’s Cabinet without her family noticing. However, they arise with her, forcing her to begrudgingly walk with them back to their individual chambers, their guard escort following close behind, ensuring they return to their quarters for the night.

As Zelda makes her way up the next flight of stairs and Knil turns down the hall, Hilda dawdles towards her chamber. Once Knil disappears from view, she stops abruptly and turns to her two guards. “I almost forgot,” she feigns, a touch of urgency in her voice. “The king requested me in the Cabinet. Could you take me there?”

The guards exchange a glance before one nods and walks on ahead. Hilda follows, with the other guard trailing behind her, leading her once again through the winding halls. Her heart races with anticipation, her mind alight with thoughts of what instrument Ganondorf might play for her.

Hilda slinks into the dimly lit room as the guards shut the door behind her. She spots Ganondorf, his back towards her, seated on a wooden bench at the far wall. His head turns slightly, a confident smirk playing on his lips in the candlelight. “Come. Sit,” he instructs, patting the space beside him.

Hilda's eyes widen with awe as she takes in the grandeur of the room. Leather couches, worn with time and use, sprawl in front of the soft glow of a newly lit fireplace. A small desk, scattered with stacks of paper and quills, waits in one corner, a testament to the intellectual pursuits of its owner. The amber glow of the firelight dances upon the polished wood of the bookshelves lining the walls, illuminating the countless volumes that adorn them.

As she makes her way through the room, she marvels at the impressive solid oak table that stands proudly in the centre, surrounded by high-backed chairs that seem to command respect and authority. The room exudes an air of sophistication and timelessness, each piece of furniture telling a story of its own.

Drawing closer to Ganondorf, her eyes widen further as she notices the magnificent brass pipes ascending in size and stature as they reach upwards along the wall. Her step falters in disbelief as she takes in the complexities of the organ framed in mahogany before her. It is a breath-taking instrument, its grandeur and intricacy commanding the space with an almost regal presence.

Hilda clambers onto the tall bench and spots the rows of pedals lining the floor along with the narrow-heeled shoes Ganondorf had changed into, reminiscent of dancing shoes. As she settles into her spot, her head swivels from left to right, taking in the four cascading rows of keys at the centre, their ebony and ivory surfaces glistening under the ambient light. A myriad of knobs and switches adorn the side panels, adding to the instrument’s intricate beauty.

As she marvels at the sheer artistry, Ganondorf's fingers hover over the keys, his eyes tracing the sheet music. With a deep breath and a single touch, a hauntingly majestic tune emerges, filling the room with a profound sense of melancholy and longing.

Hilda's heart resonates with the slow tempo of the music, its bittersweet quality tugging at her heartstrings. The gentle notes wrap around her like a warm embrace, lulling her into a state of relaxation. She leans her head against his side, a soft yawn parting her lips as the soothing lullaby-like melody envelops her. She watches peacefully as his fingers gently and serenely caress the keys.

The music dips into the slightest pause, the hum lingering in the pipes as his body shifts beside her to adjust the knobs at both ends. Suddenly, the tempo shifts, jolting her out of her reverie, forcing her upright once more. Her eyes widen in delighted surprise as the once-soothing melody transforms into a whirlwind of sound, evoking a chaotic and frenetic energy.

A triumphant smirk dances across his lips, revelling in her reaction to the dramatic shift. The exhilarating tune fills the room, each note resonating with raw emotion. She watches, captivated, as Ganondorf's skilful fingers effortlessly glide across the keys with swift precision. The keys in the row above dip and rise on their own, mirroring the ones below that Ganondorf plays. His left leg taps up and down as he works the pedal board upon the floor.

As the song reaches its peak, his hands make one final adjustment to the draw-knobs. The music box-like rhythm softens and slows, like a gentle sigh echoing through the chamber. A profound sense of sadness washes over her, the music's melancholic undertones resonating deeply within her soul as the emotional journey comes to an end.

The last fading notes linger in the air, as if desperately clinging to their final breath. The music falls to slumber, yet its memory reverberates within her, leaving an indelible impression.

Hilda sits in stunned silence, the room's warmth enveloping her as she processes the emotional journey she has just experienced. Ganondorf turns to her, his eyes searching hers for a reaction. She meets his gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, as she finds herself at a loss for words. He only grins smugly in response; her speechlessness was indicative enough of her appreciation for his talent.

As Hilda takes a moment to gather her thoughts, she finally finds her voice, breaking the stillness with a soft, heartfelt whisper. "That was... incredible," she says, her voice filled with awe and wonder. "I have never heard anything like it."

Ganondorf's smirk softens into a genuine smile. "I am glad you enjoyed it," he responds, his eyes reflecting a mix of satisfaction and appreciation for Hilda's compliment. "Music has always been an important part of me, a means of expression and connection. I am delighted that I could share it with you."

“Can you teach me to play?” Hilda questions, her eyes gleaming with determination.

Ganondorf considers her request, a faint smile playing on his lips as he contemplates his approach. "The organ is quite complex. Perhaps a simpler instrument might be a better starting point. An ocarina, perhaps?" he suggests, offering her an alternative.

She shakes her head, a resolute expression on her face. "I don't want to master it. Just... teach me a simple tune," she requests, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Very well," he agrees, his voice gentle and warm. He shifts slightly on the bench, making room for her hands on the keys. "Place your fingers here," he instructs.

Hilda rises from her sitting position, shifting to her knees to reach the lowest manual more easily before scooting closer to his side. Her fingers tremble slightly as they rest on the cool ivory keys. Ganondorf's left arm wraps around her, his hands hovering over hers, his touch steady and reassuring as he guides her hands to the correct position.

"Now, press this key, then this one," he says, demonstrating a simple melody.

She follows his instructions, her movements tentative at first. But with each gentle guidance, she gains more confidence. As the notes come together, a soft, simple tune emerges.

"Try to relax your elbows," Ganondorf advises, noticing the tension in Hilda's posture.

She attempts to follow his guidance, but soon finds herself struggling to reach the keys. A frustrated grumble escapes her chest as she searches for a solution to get her closer, her gaze flickering hesitantly to his lap.

Ganondorf's breath catches in his throat, his body tensing as Hilda suddenly drops onto his lap. His normally composed demeanour falters, his hands hovering uncertainly beside him. As she settles in, her proximity sends a rush of heat through him, his heartbeat quickening in response to the unexpected intimacy.

Her hands return to the keys, her elbows now relaxed and poised to continue. However, Ganondorf, still stunned by her candidness, remains frozen beneath her.

"Is this… okay?" she asks, her voice tinged with reservation, vulnerability reflecting in her gaze as she looks up at him.

"I-t’s fine," he stutters, struggling to regain his composure. "Just… unexpected."

Hilda's eyes dart uncertainly. "Do you… want me… to get off?" she asks nervously, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her voice.

Yes… oh, goddess, yes, his inner voice salaciously screams in response to the unintended innuendo. Thoughts of how he could indulge her in this very position swarm his mind, the temptation of her closeness almost overwhelming.

No, he stubbornly resolves, his jaw clenched tight as he pushes aside the intrusive thoughts, determined to prioritize a realistic and meaningful relationship over any fleeting desires. If that meant suppressing his own feelings and embracing the role of a father figure, then so be it. If it would keep her close, then that was what he truly wanted.

After the slightest pause, he clears his throat before responding, “No, you're fine, really, hardly even noticeable,” he lies, his toes clawing into his shoes as he battles against the reaction her very noticeable presence was having upon him. Goddess, I hope she doesn’t scoot back any further.

Focusing on the task at hand, he leans forward and takes up his position above her hands once more. She leans against his chest in response, her warmth seeping through his clothes, a sensation both comforting and unnerving. He inhales deeply, willing his body into calm before instructing, "Listen to the music, feel it in your body, and let it guide you."

“Like how I do with my magic?” she relates, her head rotating to the side to view his face peaking over her shoulder.

“Yes,” he chuckles softly, “exactly.”

He guides her through the simple six-key tune once more, her fingers gradually growing more familiar with each repetition. Hilda's face lights up with joy, her initial nervousness melting away as the sound of the organ fills the room, a delicate melody emerging from their collaborative effort.

Gradually, Ganondorf's hands leave the keys, allowing Hilda to take the lead. She hesitates for a moment, the melody faltering.

"Keep going," he encourages, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

The rhythm resumes once more, the tune circling over and over as her fingers grow with confidence. Ganondorf adjusts the knobs once again, taking up his own set of keys before introducing a new layer to the composition in harmony with Hilda's melody.

Hilda's smile widens as the music begins to take shape, evolving from a simple tune into a fully realized song. The sounds blend and intertwine, carrying both Hilda's innocence and Ganondorf's expertise. As the final notes resonate through the room, Hilda's hands come to rest upon the organ, her eyes filled with admiration as she gazes up at Ganondorf.

The depth of her appreciation shines through as she speaks, "I can truly appreciate your mastery of it now," Hilda admits, her words laced with sincerity. "To create something beautiful with just six keys is difficult enough, but to witness the way you bring the organ to life... it's truly remarkable."

"I don’t think I could ever grow tired of that… hearing your praises,” Ganondorf admits, his voice low and smooth, a faint glimmer of admiration in his eyes.

Hilda smiles as she slips from his lap, her legs tucking up beside her before leaning against his side once more. "Play another," she requests, her voice soft and filled with a sense of serenity.

With a gentle nod, Ganondorf obliges, his fingers finding their place on the keys once more. A cascade of melodies fills the room, each note carrying its own story, from the lively and spirited to the calm and reflective. Hilda remains nestled by his side, her presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the music's ebb and flow.

As the night wears on, time seems to lose its significance, the outside world fading away as they become lost in the enchantment of the music. Ganondorf's fingers move effortlessly across the keys, each chord a testament to his skill and passion, his mind enthralled in the music

Suddenly, Hilda's body jolts against him, his concentration faltering as he looks down at her with concern. A warm smile spreads across his face as he takes in her shut eyes, her peaceful expression, her relaxed form nestled into his side. The music lingers in the air, but he allows it to fade away, revelling in the rhythmic snore emerging from Hilda’s partially open mouth.

Ganondorf gently drapes his arm over hers, holding her close, cherishing the connection they share. His fingers lightly caress her golden locks as she burrows deeper into him, her peaceful slumber undisturbed by his touch. He finds himself captivated by her vulnerability, her trust in him to be her protector, mentor, and …caring companion.

Whispering her name softly, his fingers continue their tender caress, his touch both comforting and reassuring as he attempts to rouse her from her slumber. Hilda stirs slightly at the sound of her name, her face nuzzling deeper into his side, eliciting a heartfelt sigh from Ganondorf. His smile softens with fondness as he closes his eyes, basking in the warmth and tranquillity of the moment.

With a resigned sigh, Ganondorf's eyes open once more, a sense of warmth and determination in their depths. He gently shifts, one arm sliding around Hilda's back, the other under her knees before effortlessly lifting her into his embrace. She stirs again, her sleepy awareness fleeting as he carries her across the room with careful steps, mindful not to disturb her rest.

He lays her down on the leather lounge, her form curling in on itself for warmth even in her sleep. Ganondorf unties his crimson and gold cloak, kneeling beside her with a sense of gentle reverence. He drapes it over her, ensuring she's cocooned in its warmth and comfort. His fingers brush lightly over her forehead, his touch soothing and tender. Leaning closer, his voice is barely more than a whisper, filled with a tenderness that only she can inspire. "Goodnight... Hilly." he murmurs.

With a final adoring smile, Ganondorf rises from his knees, his heart lightened by the sight of her peaceful slumber. His gaze lingers on her still form as he moves towards the door with quiet determination. With a soft click, the door closes behind him, his magic instinctively turning the lock, securing her in the private space and ensuring her safety through the night.

Chapter Text

“Come in,” Ganondorf's deep voice called from behind the closed doors to his private retreat as a knock reverberated through his study. He looked up from his paperwork, his gaze met Hilda's widening grin as she approached, carrying his folded cape in her arms. Ganondorf put down his quill and slipped off his reading spectacles.

"You wear reading glasses?" Hilda questioned, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Ganondorf smirked, momentarily defeated in his attempt to maintain an air of stoicism. "Unfortunately, years of reading in poorly lit rooms have not agreed with my eyes." He admits, observing her with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Her eyes swept across the room, absorbing the subtle shifts that had occurred since the previous night and early this morning. The once dimly lit chamber, cloaked in an aura of mystery, had undergone a metamorphosis. The drawn curtains now allowed a flood of natural light to permeate the space, casting a warm and inviting glow upon the polished surfaces. The room seemed to have come alive, vibrant and full of possibilities.

Hilda's gaze was drawn to the leather couch where she had found solace in peaceful slumber. Memories of Ganondorf's gentle touch and protective presence flooded her mind, filling her with a sense of comfort and gratitude.

She stopped before Ganondorf's desk, her gaze flickering between him and the papers scattered across the surface. "Couldn't you use magic to repair your eyes?" She suggested, her voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Ganondorf chuckled softly, appreciating her inquisitive nature. "I would... If it were allowed. Unless you're offering to sacrifice your eyes for me?" He teased, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Hilda's confusion was evident as she responded, "What? Why?"

Ganondorf's smirk softened into a gentle smile. "Wounds naturally heal over time, as does the body deteriorate over time. So..." He let his words hang in the air, waiting for Hilda to piece together the meaning.

Understanding slowly dawned upon Hilda. "So, an exchange would be required. But why is that not allowed?"

Ganondorf's expression grew serious as he explained, "There are many forms of magic, Hilda. The ability to take from others, to extract and repurpose their essence, is classified as forbidden magic. Despite the power we hold, there are limitations to what we can do, whether they be physical or legal restrictions. The laws of men consider it a crime, even though acceptable punishments for many crimes include mutilating and beheading. They would rather discard lives than allow them to be repurposed to strengthen and improve the living."

Hilda pondered Ganondorf's words, her hopes of healing her brother's finger growing dimmer. "So... they would rather willingly inflict gruesome punishments on others, but the idea of utilizing magic to improve oneself is deemed forbidden?" Hilda's voice reaffirmed with a blend of anger and confusion.

Ganondorf nodded as he observed Hilda, her agreeance with his view surprising, yet delighting him.

"But your king, can't you just change the laws?" She quires.

Ganondorf's smile holds a glimmer of amusement as he listens to Hilda's question, recognizing the innocence and curiosity in her inquiry. "I could change the laws, yes. But such actions would not come without consequences." He continues, his voice carrying the weight of experience and foresight, "Without changing the views of others, my actions would create strife and unrest. An unhappy populace would be quick to revolt, and in time, my own ranks might become infiltrated with doubt and dissent. I would find myself in a very precarious and dangerous position."

Hilda listens silently to his reasoning's before requesting, “How would anyone know if you used it?”

Ganondorf's gaze held a sombre weight as he responded, "Depending on the degree of forbidden magic used, there can be permanent physical changes. The last warlock that dabbled in that magic. His skin turned green. It is because of his abuse of those branches of magic that is was outlawed."

“But why should one person’s wrong doings effect the advancement of magical exploration?” Hilda questioned annoyedly.

Ganondorf smiled, truly relishing his discussion with Hilda, delighted to find such profound understanding between them. “I am in total agreeance Hilda, yet even as king, the ideals of men are not so easily swayed. They hold steadfast to their flawed beliefs, unwilling to embrace the possibilities that lie beyond their limited understanding.”

“What would the punishment be for using forbidden magic?” Hilda enquired.

"Depending on the degree of forbidden magic. Banishment, being stripped of all magical abilities, or even execution. The consequences are meant to deter others from treading down that dangerous path.”

“You can have your magic permanently removed? How?” Hilda questioned in alarm.

Ganondorf's gaze met Hilda's horror-filled eyes as he responded to her question. "Indeed, there are artefacts and weapons specifically designed for such purposes. They possess the power to either completely obliterate one's magical abilities or contain them within a vessel, sealing away the connection to the arcane forces indefinitely. These methods are rare and highly guarded, reserved for the most severe cases or as a means of punishment for those who have abused their magic recklessly."

Hilda remained silent for short while before remembering why she had come visit him. “Thank you,” she remarked, handing him his cloak across the desk. “I truly did have a wonderful night.” She informed, her fingers curiously running over the items on Ganondorf’s desk.

“Your welcome, Hilda.” Ganondorf replied, donning his cloak over the back of his chair. “Hilda, could I ask something of you?"

"Yes, of cause." Hilda replied eagerly.

"Could you speak to your brother on my behalf?” Ganondorf requested before continuing, “It has become apparent that since your family’s arrival, there has been an increased number of repots by nobbles that frequent the castle of thievery.” Ganondorf informed.

Hilda's hands trembled slightly, her worry growing as thoughts of her brother's recent exploits in pickpocketing flooded her mind, her imagination running wild with thought of him losing his hand or even his head.

Ganondorf noticed her unease and hastened to reassure her. "It's okay, Hilda. I do not intend to punish your brother." He said gently, hoping to alleviate her anxiety.

Hilda's sigh of relief was palpable, she couldn't help but pour out her guilt-ridden confession as she took up his hand.

"I am so sorry, Ganondorf. I told him to stop. I urged him to return them. I will make sure they find their rightful owners." Hilda pleaded, her voice filled with remorse.

Ganondorf considered her words carefully before responding, gently squeezing her hand, "Perhaps it would be best if the evidence were to... not resurface. If he were to be caught, I would not be able to excuses his crimes." He looked at Hilda with a mixture of understanding and sympathy.

Hilda nodded, her eyes brimming with determination. "I understand, Ganondorf. Thank you, for your understanding and guidance. I will do everything I can to persuade him to stop. I am truly sorry for the trouble he has caused." She apologized once more, her sincerity evident in her voice.

Ganondorf placed a reassuring hand on Hilda's shoulder. "You are a good sister, Hilda. I believe in your ability to guide him on the right path.”

She threw her arms around him, hugging his side as he sat. “Thank you, Ganondorf. I am ever thankful. I will speak to him right now.” Hilda informed.

Ganondorf's gaze followed her as she hurriedly left the room. He smirked as she closed the door, the nobles' foolishness in falling victim to a nine-fingered thief amused him. In his mind, they didn't deserve their riches if they were so easily pickpocketed. However, his amusement was fleeting as his attention returned the ever-growing reports upon his desk.

Reports of rebel activity had grown exponentially since Zelda's reappearance. Their renewed purpose to reinstate Princess Zelda to her rightful throne posed a significant threat to his rule. No doubt the Sheikah were behind it. Some of them must have managed to maintain their illusionary disguises over the years, lying dormant in order to survive. He contemplated the events of the previous night, where he had hoped to show a sense of unity between Princess Zelda and himself by publicly presenting her at the entertainment. However, his efforts seemed to have failed. It was evident that Zelda and her family were being held in the castle against their will, only fuelling the rebel’s efforts.

Ganondorf's hands folded together, forming a steepled gesture as his chin rested upon them, deep in thought. Hilda's presence on his council could be a pivotal move, he mused. A member of the royal family standing with him could certainly help quell the uprising, instilling a sense of stability and unity among the people. Her status as a bastard provided a unique advantage. She wouldn't harbour any claim to the throne, her lineage carrying no threat to his own position.

His mind raced through the possibilities. Hilda showed promise, her shared ideology presented an opportunity. He knew he had to be patient, to not rush her transformation into a loyal ally. She was already moulding to his influence, but the nurturing process required time and careful manoeuvring. The allure of his position had not escaped his notice. Her desire for power, wealth, and the security they provided had become apparent, and he saw no reason to deny her those aspirations. If bestowing upon her a status and a life of luxury would ensure her loyalty and proximity, then he was more than willing to oblige.

Zelda and the boy were the thorns in his side, persistently working to undo his progress. He contemplated the idea of executing Zelda, but he knew that would only fuel the rebellion, turning her into a martyr and intensifying their resistance. Besides, it was not an option anymore, he reflected. He couldn't bear the repercussions it would have on Hilda. He had always prided himself on his strength, both physical and mental. But Hilda had the power to unravel his carefully constructed façade, to expose the cracks in his armour. The desires he felt for her were dangerous, clouding his judgment and diverting his attention from his ambitions.

Chapter Text

Hilda hurriedly made her way to her brother's room, spotting him in the hall on his way to start his messenger duties. "Knil!" She called out, catching his attention.

He turned towards her, a cheerful smile on his face. "Morning, Hilda," He greeted.

"Knil, I need to speak with you," she requested, grabbing his arm and leading him urgently towards her chambers.

As the door closed behind them, worry tinged Knil's voice. "What is it, Hilda? Has something happened?"

"Knil, your pickpocketing stops now! Do you understand!" Hilda stated firmly, her voice filled with a mix of concern and determination. "Ganondorf knows it's you. But he has promised that if you stop, you won't be punished."

Knil's surprise was evident as he questioned, "How could he know it's me? No one has seen me do it."

Hilda paused, realization dawning upon her that she had inadvertently confessed to her brother's crimes. "I... I may have confirmed that it was you," she confessed reluctantly, her voice filled with regret.

"Hilda! How could you?" Knil exclaimed, frustration and disappointment evident in his tone.

"He had already assured me that he wouldn't punish you, and I felt overwhelmed with guilt... I'm sorry, Knil," Hilda explained, her voice tinged with remorse. "But I trust Ganondorf. He will keep his word. I want you to get rid of it Knil. If anyone catches you with it, he won't be able to defend your actions."

Knil paced frustratedly, his mind grappling with the situation. He paused and turned to Hilda, seeking clarification. "Get rid of it? He doesn't want me to return what I stole?"

"No, he believes it's best if the evidence remains hidden." Hilda informed him.

Confusion etched across Knil's face as he pondered the situation. "Why would he let me keep it?" He questioned, trying to make sense of Ganondorf's actions. "Hilda, why do you trust him? What is it that he's helping you with?"

Hilda's expression shifted, a mix of pride and excitement evident on her face. "Knil, I want to show you something. But promise me you won't freak out, okay?" She instructed, guiding him towards a magical flower in her room. Positioning him in front of it, she waited for his reaction.

Knil looked uncertainly at the flower, finding it difficult to comprehend its significance. "It's a... very nice flower," he commented, not fully grasping its true nature.

Hilda exhaled, her hand hovering over the blossom. "Just wait," she instructed, a sense of anticipation in her voice. As her hand glowed purple, energy radiated from it into the flower, rejuvenating it before their eyes.

Knil's mouth fell open in disbelief. "How?" He managed to utter.

"That's what Ganondorf has been helping me with. I've had this power all along, I just never knew it was there," Hilda explained, a hint of pride in her voice.

"That's amazing, Hilda," Knil marvelled, a smile slowly forming on his face.

"I know," Hilda gloated, relishing in the awe of her brother. "I thought that with time, I'd find a way to help you." She reached for his right hand, her eyes focusing on the stub of what was once his finger.

He pulled his hand back, shaking his head. "No, Hilda," he responded firmly. "I don't need you to do this for me. I've lived for four years without it, and I can live the rest of my life without it."

Hurt flashed across Hilda's face as she looked at him, her eyes tearing up. "Knil, it's my fault that it happened. If I didn't get sick, we would have had money, and then you would never have resorted to stealing, and-"

Knil cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Hilda, it was not your fault. Don't ever think that. This burden is mine to bear. I should have done more. I should have cut more wood or found a proper job. I should have-" His voice trailed off, filled with regret.

"Knil, you were just a kid. You were entitled to a childhood," Hilda insisted, her voice filled with compassion. She pulled him into a tight hug, and he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm getting paid now. It's not much, but... I might be able to bribe us away from here. And with the jewellery I've stolen, we can start a new life, far away," Knil suggested, his voice laced with determination.

Hilda pulled back from the embrace, her eyes wide with surprise. "What? I don't want to leave." She protested, clinging to the comforts and security the castle provided.

"We can't stay here, Hilda. As long as we're confined within these walls, we're prisoners," Knil reasoned, his voice tinged with frustration.

"But I like it here. We're not starving every other day, I have clean and beautiful clothes to wear. I have time for hobbies, and there are entertainers, music, and..." Hilda trailed off, listing the benefits she cherished.

"That's because Ganondorf wants you to like it. He's giving you the appearance of freedom. But at what cost?" Knil countered. "I thought he was being kind to you because he wanted to marry you. But now, with this magic... Hilda, I fear he may be strengthening you to eventually take it from you. Like raising a pig for slaughter."

"No!" Hilda protested, her voice filled with defiance. "He cares for me. He trusts me."

"Then why won't he let you leave?" Knil asked sternly, challenging her perception.

Hilda looked hurt, desperately searching for a valid reason but unable to find one. Knil continued, "Hilda, is there any way he could transfer your magic to himself? Could he be using you?"

Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"He's already done it, hasn't he?" Knil confirmed, his voice filled with concern.

"No! He's only ever given it to me," Hilda defended, trying to hold onto her belief in Ganondorf's intentions.

“What?” Knil questioned in disbelief.

“It happened by accident at first, but the second time he gave it willing, to help me.” Hilda confessed.

“Accident? He didn’t know it could be done. But now he does. Hilda he is going to take it from you. Would you even know what it feels like if he was? He could already be doing it.” Knil analysed.

“Then why would he teach me to defend myself, to attack, to heal?” Hilda reasoned.

Knil thought for a moment before responding, "To keep you believing that's his intention. To make you trust him, so when the time comes, you'll feel obligated to repay him with your powers. Is there anything he has refused to teach you?" He asked, his tone compassionate yet wary.

Hilda's eyes shifted, her hesitation betraying the truth.

“What is it?” He asked warily.

“...Mind control" She answered sheepishly, realizing the gaps in her knowledge.

Knil frowned empathetically, “Hilda… Do you think that maybe he doesn’t want to teach it to you because you could fight against or even use it on him?”

"No..." Hilda responded, her voice trembling with denial. But doubt crept into her mind, fuelled by Knil's reasoning.

“No! It’s not true!” She yelled, tears welling up in her eyes. She clenched her fists, her magic flickering and sparking involuntarily.

Fear flashed in Knil's eyes as he took a step back. Hilda saw the panic in his gaze, her magic dissipating instantly.

She reached out towards him, her voice filled with desperation. "Knil, I'm sorry. I wasn’t going to…” Her voice trailed off as he continued to distance himself, eventually fleeing from the room.

Hilda's heart sank, aching with remorse and self-disgust. She couldn't bear the thought of her own magic becoming a source of fear and harm. As she paced her room, her mind became a whirlwind of conflicting emotions and thoughts. The words Knil had spoken echoed in her mind, raising doubts about Ganondorf's true intentions.
She despised her own hands, once filled with wonder and hope, now tainted with uncertainty and the potential for harm.

Chapter Text

Ganondorf entered Hilda's room later that afternoon, finding her deep in thought, lying on the couch. He greeted her, "Good afternoon," hoping to break the silence that enveloped her.

She sat up slowly, her eyes avoiding his.

“Is everything ok?” He quired soothingly.

“I don’t know, is it?” She questioned frustratedly.

“Evidently not.” He smiled playfully, trying to lighten the mood as he took a seat next to her.

She stared coldly back.

Sighing, he shifted to a more serious tone. "What is it?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

Hilda's gloomy gaze met his as she confessed, "I showed Knil my magic, but then we argued... and I got angry... and I terrified him." Her words hung heavy in the air, filled with regret.

“I am sorry… it can be… difficult for them to understand at first. But they will come around, in time.”

Overwhelmed by guilt, Hilda lamented, "I almost hurt him."

Ganondorf's voice grew more comforting as he reassured her, "But you didn't. Because you controlled it. Your mind will not allow you to hurt him. If you love him, you will be unable to harm him."

Seeking reassurance, Hilda questioned, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Ganondorf affirmed with confidence.

She thought it over for a while as they sat in silence.

“I… brought you something. I promise you its significantly better than just a pebble.” He smiled kindly.

She eyed him curiously, a hint of smile crept through her frown. He handed her a long package wrapped in fabric; she hadn’t even seen him holding when he had come in.
She unwrapped it, revealing a dully polished dagger, roughly a foot long from tip to hilt with a complementing leather sheath. It was odd looking, ragged around the edges, it reminded her of something. She looked perplexedly down at it then back at him.

He grinned before explaining, “It’s no ordinary dagger. Much like my blade is no ordinary sword.” He paused waiting to see if she understood.

That's was the shape reminded her off, the fractured glass contour of Ganondorf’s sword. His sword which allowed him to open portals… she trailed.
Her eyes flicked to him with excitement. “Are you saying… I will be able to use this to make my own portals?”

“Sort of… The blade is small, so it will only be able to open a small gateway around double its own length. I wouldn’t recommend putting any digits in it until I assess your abilities however."

Her excitement grew as she inquired, "Will I be able to fit through it?"

Ganondorf considered her small stature and replied, "Hm... You are quite small, so you may be able to pass through it. For a little while, anyway. But you will need a considerable amount of training before you're even close to that point."

She threw herself into him, her arms squeezing tightly around his sides, her head curled into his chest, the blade balancing awkwardly in her lap. His arms slowly curled around her, returning the gesture. She released him, giving him a light peck on the cheek before eagerly inspecting the blade.

He stared after her, flustered, his eyes battering in surprise. He thought that he could do it. That he could be satisfied as her father figure. He had lied to himself. She was undoubtedly testing his resolve, but he was no stranger to biding his time to achieve his goals. He reasoned. However, the relentless passage of time was now working against him, regardless of the magic he wielded or the power he held.

The awareness of his own mortality was a constant presence, a reality he couldn't evade. The Hylians enjoyed lifespans that could extend well beyond a century, but the Gerudo's fate was different. Their average lifespan was around 80 years, a fact that loomed in the back of his mind like a ticking clock. As he found himself journeying into the latter half of his life, the pressure of time's swift progression added urgency to his endeavours.

Interrupting their intimate moment, Hilda impatiently enquired, “So how do I use it?”

Ganondorf, momentarily lost in his thoughts, quickly recomposed himself. “Oh. Um…well first you should know what it is. I had come across it whilst navigating through a sandstorm. It had once been part of a mirror portal, when I had approached the broken pieces, they would loose their reflectiveness and become hard like steel, and mirror like again when I stepped away. I held the shard that you have now and sliced an opening between the worlds. I then took another, the largest piece and had them fashioned into a sword and dagger.”

She looked amazedly at the blade in her hand.

Ganondorf implored, “You must keep it close, otherwise out of your presence, it will become fragile leaving it susceptible to those who come across it.”

She nodded, hanging on his every word.

He continued, “To use it,” he stood and drew his own sword, she stood with him, following his actions. “Let your magic flow into it as you cut through into the other world.” A purple line followed behind his blade before slowly disappearing.

Hilda copied him, her own blade leaving behind a streak before vanishing. “That was the easy part. Then once you have made a slit you must hold it open whilst also widening it.” He demonstrated.

Hilda tried to copy but couldn’t manage to keep the portal from closing. “It will take practice, one step after a time.” He encouraged.

“How do you do it by just touching the hilt?”

“Practice. Lots of it. You’ll learn to bring the blades ability into you at its touch. I’ll check on your progress tomorrow afternoon, just… please… don’t put your finger into it. Heaven’s forbid it will close and leave it in the other world. Fetch some sticks to practice with.” He suggested turning to leave.

“Ganondorf?” She called.

“Yes?” He swivelled back to her.

"Why have you given this to me?" She asked, her eyes fixed on him.

Ganondorf's disappointment was evident in his response, "Do... you not like it?"

"No, of course, I do!" Hilda reassured him. "It's just that... If we are your prisoners, why have you given me a means of escape?" Her gaze bore into him, seeking the truth.

"I thought that you liked living here, that I had made you feel like a guest?" He inquired, his voice tinged with hurt.

"I do like it here. But... we are not your guests. Not while you lock our doors at night and restrict us within these walls." She boldly declared. Her determination grew as she asked the question that had been plaguing her, "Why are you keeping us here?"

Ganondorf's response was honest and heartfelt. "Because if I let them go, they would take you with them before we can finish your training... Before you could decide whether you wanted to stay... as a part of my royal court." He admitted.

Surprised by his words, Hilda sought further clarification. "A part of... your royal court?" She repeated.

“I thought, perhaps, I could title you as a duchess. Reward you with your own estate.”

Still sceptical, Hilda pressed on, “And what is it that you will ask for in return?”

“I ask for nothing, but your happiness and camaraderie." He responded swiftly, holding her gaze before continuing, “To give you a life that an almighty sorcerous is worthy of. Have I not done what I can to serve in your best interest? Succumb to almost all your demands? If you were to ask it of me, I would release you all. If, you were to ask it.” He ended despairingly.

“Why?” She asked, observing his anguish.

“I have I not already told you that I care deeply for you? I would do anything to please you. We are so alike, Hilda. In both our minds and our abilities. Our magic forms a bond that is unparalleled by any other.” He implored, his voice carrying the weight of his emotions.

After a moment of contemplation, she asked a final question. “Then, should I ask it. Would you teach me mesmerisation?”

He paused. He had said anything, if he lied now, she would no longer trust him, and he had worked so hard to get this far. He exhaled, bowing his head “Anything."

“Tomorrow afternoon then.” Hilda stated firmly, her determination unwavering as she set the terms of their next meeting.

“Of cause.” He sighed defeatedly, his head still tilted towards her.

“And I want my mother to have more freedom. No more chaperones within curfew hours.” She demanded.

“As you wish.” He beamed, his eyes glimmering delightedly.

She wanted to stay! She had withheld her family from leaving to stay with him! It had been risky, but it had helped to pull her across the line. He rejoiced.

“You would make me a duchess?” She smirked.

“You are from royal linage, it would only be fitting.” Ganondorf flattered. He noted the silent princess flower he had gifted her displayed in a goblet upon her bedside table, the small piece of obsidian sat at its side. He smiled inwardly, “Till tomorrow.”

"Don't be late!" Hilda called after him, a note of anticipation in her voice.

"I wouldn't dare." Ganondorf replied with a confident smirk, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he turned and walked away, leaving Hilda to her own thoughts once more.

Chapter Text

As the evening wore on, Ganondorf couldn't shake off the memory of Hilda's simple kiss on his cheek. It lingered in his mind, replaying like a vivid scene. He could still feel the warmth of her touch, her delicate arms wrapped around his middle. The sensation of her silky golden hair, carrying the fragrances of lavender and peppermint, brushing against his neck sent shivers down his spine.

Ever since their encounter in the chapel, where Hilda had unleashed her powerful and enraged energy, he had found himself yearning for her. The display of her raw magic had awakened something deep within him, stirring a primal attraction. Her fierce spirit and the intensity of her emotions had ignited a fire within him that he struggled to contain.

He had not had a woman since her arrival, she had taken up so much of his free time. However, tonight he would have his release, Cremia would be seeing to his entertainment. His favourite of the three courtesans that he had employed to reside in the castle for his own personal use.
Every years or so he would employee new ones when he grew bored of them. They were paid handsomely for their services and most importantly, their discretion.

Cremia had entered his quarters shortly after ten o’clock, locking the door behind her. She made her way through his drawing room into his bed chamber, undressing from her gown before parting the bed hangings.
She crawled over his bare form, his hands greeting her frame as she glided across him. He parted her fiery red locks as he sampled her neck and breasts. Her form grinding upon him before taking him into her.
He moaned as she teased him with her long and slow rhythm, her fingers tauntingly swirling atop of his piercing bringing forth sighs of pleasure. He sat up with her, griping onto her waist as he drove her onto himself, his pelvis rocking beneath her.

He didn’t care for foreplay. Not tonight. He had been without for too long, he was eager to finish things. He lent back on one arm, angling himself deeper into her, his other hand griped to her hip, urging her to match his speed. Beads of sweat rolled down his tan musclier form as he edged closer.

He tossed her over onto her back as he rutted fervently into her, his fingers digging at the sheets at the pinnacle of release.

He pulled from her, taking himself in his hand as grunted with each surge, spilling himself over her hip and thigh.
He loomed over her, catching his breath before coming to his knees between her. He wiped himself with a linen cloth before cleaning himself from her body.

He knew they took… precautions. Tea made from Queen Anne’s lace. Honey and acacia-soaked cotton inserted into themselves beforehand were all affective methods. But he would never trust them, he would not allow himself to be extorted with a bastard child.

One had tried of cause, many years ago. His hands had seen the light leave her eyes before she could even name a figure. Sure, he could have waited another seven months for a definitive answer whether it was truly his or not when it came out as a Gerudo, but he would not be made a fool, especially not by a whore.

His heir would be worthy of his legacy. Like her mother, Hilda held the blood of the goddess in her veins, a lineage that held immeasurable significance. What greater triumph could there be than to father a child with such a remarkable and perfected bloodline? Once Hilda was his queen, their child, their daughter, would inherit their combined magic.  A being of supreme power, the likes of which the world had never witnessed before. Such a progeny, destined to be born of their union, would command the loyalty and submission of all who beheld her, solidifying his dominion over Hyrule in a way no other conquest could achieve.

Chapter Text

Hilda had found herself outside of Ganondorf’s cabinet room once again the following morning. Now that she knew where he resided during the day, she couldn’t help but be drawn to spending more time with him.
Hilda's cheerful greeting filled the room as she confidently entered Ganondorf's retreat. He stood with his back turned to her, engrossed in shuffling parchments on his desk.

"Morning, Hilda," Ganondorf responded, his tone slightly distant. "I'm afraid I have a meeting this morning. I won't be able to entertain you."

Hilda's confidence faltered, and a tinge of disappointment crossed her features. She hesitated for a moment before gathering her courage. "Could I... could I join the meeting?" She proposed, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of vulnerability.

His head swivelled to her, attempting to dissuade her gently. "It will be rather boring, Hilda. Cabinet meetings are typically reserved for council members.”

Hilda's eyes pleaded with Ganondorf, her determination unyielding. She took a step closer, mustering her resolve. “Please Ganondorf. If I am to become a duchess how can do so with no proper experience?”

He gazed intently at Hilda, weighing the options as he considered the potential consequences of sharing information about the rebellion. However, by allowing her this privilege, the potential for their relationship could only blossom.
Taking a deep breath, Ganondorf set aside his concerns, It would only be a mater of time before they heard news of it anyway, he rationalised.
"Hilda," he began, his voice filled with caution and sincerity, "The matters concerning today's meeting pertain to a growing rebellion that seeks to remove me from power."

Hilda's eyes widened in surprise, her curiosity piqued by this revelation.

"The resistance aims to reinstate… your mother as ruler," Ganondorf continued, his tone measured yet filled with an undercurrent of vulnerability.

“Oh…” Hilda remarked at the news.

“By allowing you access to this meeting I would be instilling a great amount of faith in you, Hilda. However, given the nature of subject, I would understand if you would like to refrain from joining.” Ganondorf relayed.

Hilda took a moment to process the information, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. “I… would still like to attend, if that’s ok?” Hilda requested.

“Very well.” Ganondorf remarked. “You will be only an observer. Can I trust that whatever information is discussed is to be held in the strictest confidence?”

"You have my word, Ganondorf," she replied, her voice filled with conviction.

“Return in half an hour, I still have a few preparations to go over that require my undivided attention.” Ganondorf informed.

As Hilda stepped into the cabinet room once more, the weight of the high-ranking officials from various regions of Hyrule bore down upon her. She could sense their scrutinizing gazes as they stood waiting, creating an atmosphere charged with anticipation.
Nervously, she made her way towards the chair Ganondorf had set aside for her. To her surprise, she recognized Nabooru and Riju seated at Ganondorf's right hand, offering her a glimmer of familiarity amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces.

After a few minutes, Ganondorf's commanding voice resonated through the room, signalling the commencement of the meeting. Hilda settled into her seat beside Riju, a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling within her. Riju was destined to become chieftess of Gerudo’s that had remained in Gerudo valley and act on Ganondorf’s behalf.

The gravity of the situation loomed large as she listened intently to the discussions unfolding before her. Tension permeated the air, evident in the serious expressions on the faces of the attendees, reflecting the significance of the matters at hand.

Ganondorf, exuding authority, presided over the meeting with a composed and focused demeanour. His piercing gaze scanned the room, absorbing the reports and proposals being presented to him. Hilda found herself captivated by the intricate workings of governance and the delicate balance of power that determined the fate of the kingdom.

Throughout the meeting, various advisors and military officers took turns sharing their insights, outlining rebel activities and potential threats. Strategies for suppressing the rebellions and maintaining control over different regions were debated. Maps displaying key locations and territories affected by the resistance movements were spread across the table, serving as visual aids to the discussions.

However, as time wore on, the meeting seemed to come to a halt, trapped in a never-ending cycle of debates and disagreements. Hilda's mind, brimming with ideas, struggled to contain the obvious solution she could see before her. When a momentary silence enveloped the room, she summoned her courage and nervously spoke up.
"Excuse me, but what if we try a different approach?" Hilda suggests, her voice wavering slightly. "Instead of focusing solely on suppressing the rebels, what if we address some of the grievances that have fuelled their uprising? By addressing their concerns and finding a peaceful resolution, we might be able to quell the rebellion at its root."

Her suggestion hangs in the air for a moment, she nervously glances at Ganondorf, unsure of how he will react to her audacity in challenging the existing strategies. The room falls silent as all eyes turn to Ganondorf, waiting for his response.

Another member of the council spoke up, expressing his scepticism about entertaining the rebels' demands. “If we submitted to the rebels demands it would only inspire their efforts.”

“No, perhaps Lady Hilda’s suggestion holds some merit.” Ganondorf relayed, The room erupts with murmurs of surprise and intrigue. Ganondorf's unexpected openness to Hilda's suggestion catches many off guard.
He continues, his tone authoritative yet tempered. “If we were able to address some of their demands, be it small insignificant ones. The rebels may very well begin to question their own motives and need for open rebellion. Discord and conflict would rise with their own ranks. They may very well extinguish themselves.”

“My lord, this would come at a great risk.” Another member voices their view. “You would be providing your enemies with the keys required for your own demise. The rebels should only be negotiated with as a last resort.”

Ganondorf, however, remained resolute in his stance “If we barter for peace. Resolution in the early stages of conflict, we will be seen as reasonable.” Ganondorf remarked. “If we wait till open combat, they will see it as sign that we are losing control and will only double their efforts. I do not wish to incite a civil war, its impact would set the progress of the kingdom back centuries.”

Ganondorf paused, his gaze sweeping over Hilda before committing to a plan, “Extend an invitation to the rebels' leaders in your respective regions. We will hear their demands and, if it means giving voice to the peasants, so be it."

Ganondorf's mind was already at work, scheming and manipulating her innocent suggestion to serve his own darker motives. If the rebels nominated spokespersons, he saw an opportunity to buy their loyalty and bend them to his will or gather valuable information to weaken their cause. His ulterior motives remained concealed behind a facade of strategic decision-making.

Chapter Text

Hilda watched intently as the occupants of the room filed out, their voices fading away as the door closed behind them. The weight of the meeting still hung in the air.
Hilda watched Ganondorf with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty as he made his way to the fireplace, his exhaustion evident in his weary sigh.
She quietly observed as he retrieved a elaborate glass bottle of amber liquid and a short glass from the shelf above the hearth. The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room, creating an atmosphere of both warmth and intrigue.

After poring himself a drink, Ganondorf turned his attention towards Hilda, she was eyeing him expectantly.

“Would you… like one?” He questioned, still holding the bottle in his hand.

Hilda adverted her eyes unsurely “Mother... only lets me have lite wine.” She informed.

"Your mother is not here," Ganondorf reminded her gently, emphasizing the freedom she had in his presence. "I believe after today's meeting, you've more than proven your capabilities of making your own decisions." Ganondorf praised, poring a second drink. He held it towards her before setting it upon the coffee table, “For if you change your mind”. He took up his own drink and settled into the armchair by the fire.

Hilda took up a seat across from him, her eyes lingering on the glass set upon the table, contemplating his words. The allure of trying something different, stepping beyond the confines of her upbringing, tugged at her curiosity. Ganondorf's lips smacked together after taking a sip, the sound breaking the silence in the room.
She hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to reach for the glass. With a sense of trepidation, she took a tentative sip, only to be caught off guard by the strong flavour, causing her to cough involuntarily.

Ganondorf's lips twitched into a faint smile as he watched her reaction, “Whisky is… an acquired taste.” He informed.

Hilda nodded, her eyes watering slightly from the intensity of the drink.
Once the burn of the drink wore off, a richer, smoky yet sweet flavour developed within her mouth, a hint of warmth spreading through her body.

Ganondorf's relaxed posture exuded a sense of tranquillity as he savoured the whisky's warmth and allowed it to soothe his senses. He turned his attention to Hilda once more, his gaze filled with a mix of appreciation and caution. "Hilda," he began, his voice carrying a touch of weariness, "I must commend you for your bravery during the council meeting. Your input was valuable. It takes great courage to speak up in such a gathering."

Hilda's eyes widened slightly at his acknowledgement, her nerves tinged with a glimmer of pride as she attempted another sip.

“However, in our future meetings, I must ask that you remain silent until you are officially made a council member," Ganondorf said, his tone becoming more serious. “It is important for the dynamics of the council to be maintained. Your role as an observer is crucial, and any insights or thoughts you have can be shared with me in private after the meetings."

Hilda's brows furrowed in mild disappointment, she nodded her understanding. "I knew I shouldn't have spoken up, but it felt like the discussion was trapped in an endless loop," she admitted, a touch of self-reflection in her voice.

Ganondorf chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Indeed. Council meetings can often descend into repetitive arguments, cycling through the same discussions without reaching any decisive conclusions," he acknowledged, his voice carrying a touch of wry humour.

Hilda's curiosity got the best of her, and she leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Why does it happen like that? Shouldn't they be able to find a resolution more efficiently?"

Ganondorf leaned back in his chair, contemplating her question for a moment before responding. "Well… my dear, the dynamics of power and conflicting interests often come into play during these meetings. Each member represents their own region or faction, and they strive to protect their interests and assert their influence," he explained, his tone carrying a hint of wisdom. "This can lead to passionate debates and, at times, an inability to find common ground."

Hilda nodded, absorbing his words and pondering the intricate complexities of governance. A tiny smile creased her lips, as she recalled that he had said ‘Future meetings’. “So, I can still attend the next meeting even though I spoke out of turn?” She questioned.

Ganondorf smiled warmly “Of cause, as you said, it is important for you to learn these skills to earn the title of duchess.”

"But it's not just about attending meetings, is it?" Hilda asked, her voice filled with earnestness. "There's a vast array of knowledge and skills that I must acquire to fulfill the responsibilities of a duchess."

Ganondorf nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. "Governance and history are just a few facets of the knowledge required," he confirmed, his tone thoughtful. "Your mother would undoubtedly also possess a wealth of knowledge in these areas."

Hilda's expression turned sombre as she broached the subject of her mother. She couldn't help but wonder if Ganondorf had taken any steps to grant her mother more freedom.
"Have you... spoken to her about allowing her more freedom in the castle yet?" Hilda inquired, her voice tinged with a mixture of concern and longing.

Ganondorf's gaze softened, "Not as yet." He admitted, his voice gentle yet resolute. "But I assure you, Hilda, that I will speak to your mother shortly. In fact, as soon as I have finished this drink. I give you my word.” Ganondorf vowed.

Hilda's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope as she absorbed Ganondorf's words. “Thank you.” Her voice remarked, filled with appreciation as she raised from her chair, setting her barely touched drink upon the table.

Ganondorf nodded his head towards her as she made her exit.

Chapter Text

“Good afternoon, Princess.” Ganondorf greeted as he emerged into Zelda’s chamber an hour later, his tone surprisingly cordial.
He had taken his time finishing off his whisky in an attempt to delay the inevitable, finding himself holding Hilda’s unfished glass in the process. Captivated by her delicate lip prints, her essence still lingering upon its surface. With a mixture of curiosity and a hint of weakness, his own lips lingered over the spot where hers had been only moments earlier. There was something intimate and strangely comforting about finishing her drink.

“Good afternoon, your majesty." She eyed him suspiciously; this was the first time they had spoken since breakfast almost a week ago.

“I’ve come to grant you some privileges. You may travel within the castle walls, unguarded. Within curfew hours of cause.”

Clearly this had come from the request of her daughter, she noted. “This compassion? Do you intend to try and soften me up or is purely for the benefit of pleasing my daughter as you weave your webs around her?” She asked sarcastically.

He glared at her; she held his gaze.
“Have I not been forgiving of your Zelda. You betrayed me, tried to attack me, yet I have given you the comforts of your old life.”

“Forgiving? You are torturing me! As I am made to sit by and watch as you take over my daughter’s mind.” Zelda petitioned.

Ganondorf smirked, a hint of amusement playing on his lips, “You believe I have her under a spell? Sorry to disappoint you princess, but she is acting under her own volition. Have I not given her a home? Provided her with whatever she asks for? Is she not happy with the life I have provided her?”

“This is nothing more than a game to you, isn’t it? A challenge to conquest the affections of my daughter as vengeance. Don’t pretend as if you actually care for her.” Zelda hissed.

Ganondorf’s eyes flickered fleetingly from hers at this.

“Oh my goddess!” Her anger turning into disgust as she analysed his faulter. “You’ve fallen for her!”

Ganondorf avoided her gaze, his eye twitching in irritation.

“That’s why you’ve kept us hear. You think over time she will love you!”

Ganondorf cape whizzed as he fled angerly to the door.

“Ganondorf!” She called after him as her door slammed shut in front of her. She paused at it momentary before remembering that he had just given her free roam. She barged out of the door in hot pursuit.
“Ganondorf!” she called after him as he stormed down the corridor.

He rolled his eyes, regretting his decision in dismiss her guards all ready. “This conversation is over,” he growled, his patience wearing thin. But Zelda continued to follow him, her footsteps echoing behind him.
"What?" Ganondorf snapped, halting abruptly to face her as she caught up.

“She will never love you.” Zelda provoked.

Ganondorf turned on his heal once again. Zelda followed behind.

“While you keep us trapped here, she will do whatever she can to keep us safe. Even if that means pretending to tolerate you.”

Zelda almost crashed into him as he spun to meet her. “She requests me. Trusts me. Confides in me. Things you could never even imagine. She even cares for me, she has said it so herself.” A wicked smile spread across his face as Zelda stared back in dismay. Oh, how he had longed to rub Hilda’s genuine affections towards him in Zelda’s annoying little face, he mused.

“If you genuinely believe that she cares for you. Then why have you not asked for her hand?” Zelda requests. Her words hang in the air as a sly smile greats her lips. “Unless... She thinks of you as a father figure. Doesn’t she?”

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes as she went on. “I could only image your disappointment when she revealed that revelation.” Zelda taunted, smiling.

"We are more alike then you could possibly imagine. In more ways than one." Ganondorf growled, his determination unwavering.

"She is nothing like you!" Zelda argued.

"Then you've never truly know her... Not like I do. She will come to see me as more. When the time comes, she will choose me.” Ganondorf predicted smoothly, his voice filled with a mix of certainty and darkness.

“If you truly believe that. Then let us go.” Zelda demanded.

Ganondorf snickered, looking down at Zelda with a knowing gaze, before turning and parading down the hall.

Zelda stared blankly after him.

He had already offered them their freedom; it was Hilda’s decision that now kept them here. She was already choosing him, he revelled. Zelda still seemed unaware of Hilda’s abilities. He evaluated. She had still not told her mother, and neither had her brother. He felt a newfound sense of respect for the boy.

Chapter Text

Zelda headed straight for her daughter’s room after her confrontation with Ganondorf.
“Oh, hi mum” Hilda greeted, stowing her blade under her pillow as she feigned tidying her bed, content in the fact that Ganondorf was true to his word. “I was going to ask you if you could teach me about Hyrule’s History-”

“Hilda, do you have feelings for Ganondorf?” Zelda insisted, her voice filled with concern.

“What! Where is this coming from?” Hilda was taken aback.

“Do you care for him?” Zelda continued, her tone gentle yet insistent.

Hilda hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. "I... appreciate his kindness, yes," she finally replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But why are you asking me this?"

Zelda took a deep breath, choosing her next words carefully. "Because... he is falling in love with you," she revealed, her voice laced with a mix of worry and urgency.

“What!” Hilda remarked in disbelief.

“Why do you think he entertains you with all this flattery, this kindness he reserves only for you.” Zelda pressed on, hoping to make her daughter see the truth.

“He thinks of me as his daughter!” Hilda defended, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and confusion.

Zelda's gaze intensified as she posed a crucial question. "Has he said that?" she queried, her voice steady but firm.

Hilda's face froze, realizing that Ganondorf had never explicitly referred to her as his daughter. "It's not... like that," she tried to convince herself, her voice faltering.

"Hilda, I've seen how his eyes follow you. He desires you, can't you feel it?" Zelda questioned, her concern deepening.

“He respects me! He looks at me as his equal!” Hilda countered, becoming riled.

"His equal? Hilda, what are you-" Zelda began, but her words were cut short as Hilda interrupted.

"Because of this!" Hilda announced, extending her hands and unleashing purple orbs of magic that sparked forth from her palms.

Zelda gasped, covering her mouth in astonishment as she witnessed her daughter's hidden power. "How long have you hidden this?" She questioned, shock evident in her voice.

Hilda took a deep breath, her expression conflicted. "Ganondorf helped me discover it our first night here," she confessed, allowing the magic to fade.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Zelda asked, her voice filled with hurt.

"Because I knew you would disapprove of him teaching it to me! Because I knew you would try to intervene," Hilda replied, her tone defensive.

Zelda's heart sank at her daughter's lack of trust. She knew she had to handle this situation carefully, not wanting to prove Hilda's point. Ganondorf had been manipulating them all along, creating this conflict to drive a wedge between them and make Hilda turn to him for comfort. His hold on her daughter was stronger than Zelda had realized. If she wasn't careful, her next words could play right into Ganondorf's hands.
“Hilda, you have an amazing gift, and I couldn’t be prouder. Our ancestors inherited magic from the goddess Hylia herself. To be gifted with light magic is a truly a blessing. But this… is not light magic. It is dark magic. No, not like that!” Zelda corrected as her daughter glared at her. “Dark magic is what the Gerudo call it, because it is carried only in their lineages.”

Hilda looked perplexedly at her mother, “Then why do I have it?” She questioned.

“I am not sure.” Zelda persuaded. She of cause had an idea where it might have come from. That Ganondorf had been gifting Hilda his magic to strengthen his relationship with her. But she would not be confessing that idea to Hilda. Let Ganondorf explain it now that a seed of doubt of his intentions loomed in Hilda’s mind.

Chapter Text

“Teach it to me.” Hilda demanded when Ganondorf entered her room at half past three.

Zelda had clearly been here and riled her up. And now, he would be the one to console her of her mother’s ambush. He mused.
“Hold your horses. I’d like to see your progress with opening the portal first.” He requested.

Hilda ripped her blade from out under her pillow. Unsheathing it before slicing it through the air, her other hand holding the purple line from sealing. Its sides bowed as it opened. The portal grew shorter as it grew wider before eventual collapsing in a horizontal line.

“Very good, you managed to hold it and open it this time.” Ganondorf said impressed.

Hilda sheathed her blade and tossed it onto the bed.
“Now show me.” She demanded once again.

“Can I at least ask what’s stirred you first?” He stalled.

“No” She said flatly, crossing her arms.

“Very well...” He trailed awkwardly as he produced a flask containing a large hairy spider from his pocket. He cleared his throat, “The magic you have learnt so far is intended to protect. Manipulative magic however… comes from a more… selfish desire. A devious desire for power over others. Pride, envy, wrath …lust, can all conjure it.”

“If it is so terrible, then why do you know it?” She inquired frustratedly, brushing off his attempt at putting her off.

“Because I felt all of those things when your mother…” He paused, starting over. “Because… I wanted revenge, I wanted to demonstrate my power. I wanted to heal my pride. I was determined that taking Hyrule was how I would do it. So, I learnt it and used it to forge an army of beasts from the other world. And I led them into a mindless slaughter for my own cause. That is why I speak of it so terribly. Because of what horrors it can be used for… because… of what... horrendous things … I have used it for.” He informed regrettably.

She surveyed him somewhat pitifully before turning stone faced once again. “I still want to know it.” She requested coldly.

He sighed before holding up the contained spider to her eye line. “This magic is… cunning. It will flow directly from your mind to your targets mind without alerting others. Concentrate on one of those emotions, try and locate your targets mind and draw it into yours. It may attempt to fight it, but you must persist until you have fully contained it.”

Hilda focused upon the spider, she wanted answers, she was sick and tired of everyone trying to manipulate her, telling her what is wrong and right. Who to trust. Her eyes drifted shut, a white speck drifted in her mind’s eye. She reeled it towards her. It pulled back feebly against her as she brought it closer.
Her mind flashed white, she was gazing towards her window, everything seemed huge. She scuttled and came into view of her actual self; her eyes were shut deep in concentration. Her own eyes opened wide, breaking the connection.

“You felt it?” Ganondorf enquired.

“Yes!” She replied ecstatically.

“Now try and hold its mind to the side of yours, that way you can flick between them instead of severing the connection when you wish to inhabit your own body.” He instructed.

She possessed the spider once again, gradually working to separate her own mind from the spiders. Slowly the spider’s vision faded from her own, lingering like a headache in the back of her mind. She gazed at the spider, her mind instructing it to crawl around the glass, she caught glimpses of its own sight as it crawled around the glass.

Ganondorf opened the jar. She held her hand towards it, its hairy legs tickled her as it leapt onto her hand. She brought it up to her face and gazed at it, manipulating it to rear so she could view its underbelly. Its fangs wiggled in the air before sinking into her hand. She yelped and shook the spider from herself. It flew towards the ground before Ganondorf caught it in a sphere before levitating it back into the flask and closing the lid.

“It bit me!” Hilda proclaimed rubbing her hand.

“Did you think of it biting you?” Ganondorf questioned.

“I was still thinking it when it happened” She observed.

“That is why it is dangerous. A meaningless thought, even if it’s not intended, could be devastating.” He remarked gravely, holding her hand as he healed the bite mark with his own magic.

His choice in a spider was not coincidental, she reflected. He had chosen it on purpose to teach her a lesson. He knew she would think of it biting her. She was not going to be so readily dissuaded.
She glowered at him, “Now, let me control you” She requested bluntly.

“You humour me.” He smirked, retrieving his hand from hers.

She stared coldly back at him.

“You expect me to surrender my will to you?” He questioned seriously.

“Yes. I trusted you to do it. So, now you can trust me.”

“But you seem to be forgetting. That I did not use it on you because I feared the unknown repercussions that it would cause.” He petitioned.

“You claimed that you would do anything to please me. This will please me”. She stated boldly, holding his gaze.

She was not going to back down, the spider hadn’t deterred her, he interpreted. She needed this; this is what would win her over. Her utter control over him. A demonstration of his devotion to her.
He dipped his head, “Very well.” He remarked solemnly. He focused on his breath, relaxing his mind for her to seize.

She focused upon him. His mind burnt brightly in the distance, she pulled it towards her, it resisted. He grimaced as she tugged at his mind. He wouldn’t budge.
“You said you would surrender it to me.” She said impatiently.

“I am ...trying.” He said through gritted teeth. “For some reason it is hard to give up one’s free will.” He ended sarcastically.

She listened to him exhale. He began to burn less brightly. She grasped at his mind once again, he begrudgingly dragged towards her. She could hear him grunting as he was pulled closer. A small part of him was still fighting it.
She continued to bend his mind to hers, his pained groans intensified, before relaxing as he finally submitted to her.

She could see herself; she was so small. Everything around her looked dwarfed in his vision, even her bed. She marvelled at the strength and power she felt. It was a sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced before. She looked at her massive new hands, inspecting them as if they were her own. She admired his muscular physique, prodding at his firm biceps.
With a newfound sense of curiosity, Hilda's gaze fell upon Ganondorf's sword. It called to her, its gleaming blade reflecting her own image as she reached out to touch it. The hilt felt cool against her hand as she firmly grasped it and drew the sword from its sheath.

The weight of the weapon surprised her, yet she revelled in its heft. Testing its balance, she swung it through the air, observing the seamless precision of her movements. It felt as if the sword became an extension of her own being, responding to her every command with grace and control.
In Ganondorf's body, Hilda felt a surge of exhilaration, a rush of power coursing through her veins. She realized the immense strength and skill that Ganondorf possessed, and a part of her was captivated by it.
Her tiny form came back into view before him, she had never realised how vulnerable she looked before him. So petite and …delicate. He must have exercised immense restraint in her presence, she reflected. The slightest, inadvertent gesture from his colossal frame could have effortlessly crushed her, a fact that both unsettled and intrigued her. Her grip tightened upon the sword in his hand before it flashed towards her stomach.

Chapter Text

“NO!” Ganondorf shrieked in agony as he pulled himself from her grasp. His sword veering off to her side. He panted with the effort of freeing himself. He eyed her dangerously from the corner of his eye.

“I am sorry.” She said shakily.

“Promise me...” He puffed, “You will never use it again.” He ordered menacingly through clenched teeth.

“I promise, I won’t. I am... so sorry.” She pleaded.

He returned his sword to his scabbard. Exhaling deeply, he moved rigidly to the couch. “Next time… you try and kill yourself.” He grunted as he fell into the couch. “Don’t involve me in the execution”. He remarked cynically.

Hilda sat next to him, placing her hand on his arm. “I am sorry… I didn’t mean to think that.” She pleaded, her eyes beginning to water.

Pity washed over him at the sight of her distress. He sighed away his anger before placing his hand lightly over hers. “I am sorry. Were all ok, that’s all that matters. Let that be the end of it.” He reassured.

A tear slid down her cheek, he cradled the side of her face and cleared it with his thumb. Her glassy eyes stared into his before blinking shut. She buried her face into his chest and wept. He consoled her with his embrace, his hand stroking her hair comfortingly. She smeared away her tears before titling her face to see his, her pointed ear resting above his pounding heart. He slid his hand from her hair to rest on her shoulder, his thumb swilling circles on her delicate skin.

“What was it like?” She questions through shimmering eyes.

“To pull out of it? It’s like drowning. Your lungs burn, your head threatens to explode. It’s like every muscle in your body is seizing.” He advised distantly. He could feel her warms tears dampened his shirt.

“But then... While you had me, it was like a pleasant dream.” He informed.

She sat up from him, his hand slipped from her shoulder as she watched him intently.

“It was like watching through a blurry window. I couldn’t feel my body, my breath, it was like I was living a distorted memory."

“I am sorry.” She apologised again.

“It’s… ok Hilda. I could never allow myself to hurt, you.” He paused. “Can I ask what it is that troubles you now?” He queried. “What had set you upon this task?”

“I showed mother my magic…” She looked away as she trailed.

“Go on.” he encouraged.

“She wasn’t angry. She seemed proud. But she said that my magic is… dark magic. Gerudo magic.” She looked questioning at him. “How? How did I come to have it?"

“I believe it may have stemmed from your father’s linage. I believe him to be an illegitimate child of an a ancestor, a Gerudo king from a century ago, or even longer.”

“I am part Gerudo?" She questioned.

“Yes.” Ganondorf confirmed.

She sighed a breath of relief.

“You believed I had been giving it to you since learning of its heritage?” He analysed before continuing, “Magic can only be transferred between other magical vessels, between me and you, our blades. Not… them. We are unique, exceptional beings."

Hilda was deep in thought. Silence rein between them before she addressed, “I want to ask you… some things, but I need you to be truthful.” She requested.

“You can ask any question you like, and I promise you, I will be completely honest.” He remarked sincerely.

“Ok then…” She paused, her face grave as she asked, “Mother said that Link had changed, what happened to him?”

Ganondorf paused, thinking over his response before answering “I… broke him.”

“How?” She probed.

Ganondorf shifted uncomfortably, “I… tortured him. Physical… mentally.”

She scanned his visage; he kept his eyed lowered. Was he... ashamed? She pushed him further “Why?”

He breathed, “I guess… at first, I did it out of anger, jealousy even, I wanted him to suffer for what he did. I lashed him until he bled and could no longer stand. Then I wanted to control him, I knew he would rise again me given the chance, so broke him before he could. I made him torture and kill his own soldier. The man was a deserter anyway, not that your father knew that. I threatened that I would kill his men should he refuse an order. He learnt to fear me, obey me. Since that day, he has demonstrated his loyalty, so I became merciful to his shortcomings. It was an empty threat of cause; he believes me to be monster, so I let him believe it.”

Silence fell between them as she analysed what she had been told.

“He can’t ever know. A desperate man with nothing to lose, is a dangerous man.” Ganondorf concluded.

“You said you weren’t afraid of anything?” She teased.

“I am not.” He smiled softly at her quip, “But I am wise enough not to make unnecessary problems for myself.”

“When was the last time you were scared?”

“Well apart from when you took my powers and just now when you made me almost run you through?” He jested, before turning serious. “I guess when I became king of the Gerudo’s. I was only sixteen at the time, Queen Urbosa’s death had been unexpected, so I was hardly prepared. It was a daunting task, I feared making a mistake. But… they happened and I learnt from them and became better from having made them.”

More silence.

“Why are you teaching me to use magic? Are you not worried that I may become more powerful and use them against you?” She quired.

“Would you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I am asking the questions, remember?” She dismissed playfully.

He rolled his eyes “No, I am not worried about you growing stronger than me. It’s just not possible.” He bantered, before continuing sincerely, “I would be proud if your skill outgrew my own. You have a kind heart; I could think of no one better suited to wield it. And I am teaching you because I remember what it felt like, to turn your vulnerability into something extraordinary. I wanted to share that with feeling… with you. To guide you to use the remarkable potential I glimpsed inside of you.”

They stared at each other briefly, Hilda looked down at her hands, they fiddled nervously in her lap as she worked up her courage to ask the question that had been eating away at her in the back of her mind. “Do you… have feelings for me?” She questioned, observing his reaction.

“You know I care deeply for you Hilda” Ganondorf instilled.

“I am mean… romantic feelings.” Hilda clarified daringly.

He had been hoping that she wouldn’t ask that question, especially not so boldly, he looked away as he felt blood rushing to his cheeks. He swallowed loudly before answering, watching her from the side of his eye. “I… won’t deny that you have remarkable beauty and a… charming personality.” He concluded.

She waited a few seconds before probing, “You didn’t answer the question."

He closed his eyes and sighed. His heart racing, she wasn’t going to let him evade the question. He was torn between his desire to be honest and the potential consequences of revealing his true feelings. He couldn't deny it, he would only solidify his position as her father figure did. He suddenly regretted stirring Zelda, realizing that it had landed him in this delicate and uncertain situation.

He turned his gaze back to Hilda, his expression conflicted. “I... I....um.” He swallowed again. “Yes... I... I do… I am… fond… of you.”

She looked away from him, lost in thought.

He ensued bluntly, “I… find your wit astonishingly sharp. You radiate… a blissful aura wherever you go. I admire your courage and your… determination. You are… remarkable.”

She blushed at his comments as she meekly lowered her head. She gazed at him from the corner of her eyes while smiling humbly.

She hadn’t rejected him, she was smiling! he evaluated. He pursued boldly, “You haunt... all my dreams, and they make me... burn for you.” He confessed, testing her reaction.

“You... burn for me?” She inquired, meeting his eyes.

His heart leapt from his chest as he gazed longingly into her receptive eyes. His hand instinctively slipped closer to hers, the desire to touch her becoming irresistible. “I ...burn for you.” He repeated passionately this time. His fingers hesitated briefly before delicately tracing the back of her hand resting beside her on the couch.

She flinched, zapping him at the touch. “Stop!” She startled, snapping back her hand as she leapt from the lounge.

He winced at the spark as the harsh reality grounded him. He slowly rose and backed away from her, expressing his regret. “I am sorry… I… I thought.” He paused. She was fearful of him, he examined. “...I’ve made you uncomfortable. I am sorry.” His eyes darted between her and the ground.

“I don’t... feel that way.” She answered tentatively, her arms folded protectively across her chest, her eyes avoiding his.

“Forgive me.” He bowed his head before turning and swiftly exiting the room.

“Wait! Ganondorf!” She called; the door swung shut behind him.

Chapter Text

He sped off down the hall. His heavy footsteps ringing through the corridor. Nabooru was approaching from the other end, she called out to him “Ah, their you are, I’ve been looking for you."

Ganondorf grimaced before turning down the next junction away from her.

“Ganondorf, wait!” She called, jogging after him. She grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. She held onto it as she swung around in front of him, searching his eyes.

“What is it Nabooru?” He snapped.

“What is the matter?” She continued scanning his face.

“Nothing.” He lied, adverting his eyes.

She looked back towards the way he had come before turning on him. “You were in the Vehvi’s room weren’t you?” She pushed him into the wall. “What happened!”

“Nothing happened." He defended, allowing himself to be pinned to the wall.

“Don’t lie to me brother.” She brandished a finger, centimetres from his hooked nose. “What did you do!”

He glared into her harsh eyes. Nabooru had always been there for him, his voice of reason. He couldn’t risk pushing her away too. “I… touched her hand.” He acknowledged shamefully.

“And!” Nabooru insisted for him to continue, knowing there was more to come.

He rubbed the bridge of nose, his eyes shut as he concluded, “I told her… I… burned for her.” The words tasted foul in his mouth.

She shook her hands above her head as she swore in Gerudo <“Sa’oten Voe”> (good heavens man). “She’s young enough to be your granddaughter!” She steamed.

Ganondorf fought back, “I don’t see the problem, your own grandmother married at the age of fourteen. Why is it so inappropriate for me? In less then a year she will be woman.”

Nabooru's eyes turned cold, “The problem!” She began. “Is that my Vaba married with consent of both families!” She poked his chest with each emphasis. “She also didn’t hold her love interests’ family hostage while taunting the intended’s Vai’ni. She was also not previously betrothed to the intended’s Vai’ni who fell pregnant to another Voe, who then gave birth to the very Vehvi you are now pursuing.” She raged.

He clenched his jaw sternly and looked away.

“How did she react?” She sighed, her tone softening as she sought to understand the extent of the damage.

He frowned as he recalled the look on her face. “She… still fears me.” He reflected absently.

Nabooru went on, sympathetically. “If you care for this Vehvi. Let. Her. Go.” 

Moment’s past between them, her hands remained clamped to his shoulder as she stared him down. He exhaled; his shoulders slumped as he responded defeatedly.

“...Ok."

She pated his shoulder, “Thank you brother. It’s the right thing to do”. She left his side and headed towards Hilda’s room before pausing. “What of Link?” She asked turning back to face him.

He groaned as he came to a reluctant decision “Fine. If it is his desire.” Maybe it would make Hilda happy to have a completed family, he pondered. He watched Nabooru pace around the bend, leaving him completely alone.

Chapter Text

Link had procured a bottle of wine and two goblets from the cellars in an attempt of making amends with Zelda. He hoped to surprise her before she returned from archery practice. As he entered her quarters, her golden hair darted behind the changing screen. “Oh, I am ...sorry. I thought you were still… never mind.” He apologised.

Silence.

He closed the door behind him before proceeding. “I wanted to apologise for… what I did. I just... I find myself at a loss in your presence.”

Nothing.

Link pushed on into the room. “It’s the twenty-first of November, your...our birthdays. I thought that we could share a drink, like the old times?” He suggested, setting the bottle and goblets down upon the table.

Silence. 

“Please?” He implored.

Still nothing.

He sighed deeply. “Since your arrival I can think of nothing else but you. The life we could have had. Your father told me the day after our affair, that he had indented us to be together. He wanted a life for us together.” Link pleaded. He paused waiting for response that never came.

“Zelda please speak to me. I cannot bear the thought of being excluded from my own family any longer. I see you with them, and even though your trapped here, you still laugh with them, you have purpose, meaning. I want to share it with you. With them. Just… let me in." He begged, standing opposite her on the other side of the changing screen, he saw her boots dart out of view from under the screen before stillness loomed once again.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to get off my chest.” His hand griped onto the edge of the changing screen. “I know you don’t want to speak to me right now, but I want you to know now, rather than later. In hope of a clear and honest slate." He paused before confessing, "I… I have another daughter.”

A fist rammed into his face from the corner of changing screen. He tumbled backwards onto the floor pulling the screen down with him. He clutched at his broken nose as blood poured from it, his head was spinning with pain.
The distorted figure grab something from the table before throwing it at him. He clamped his eyes shut and sheltered his head with his arms as the wine bottle broke across them, its large shards cutting his arms and splattering him in the red liquid.

His attacker leapt onto to him, straddling his waist in a tight grip between their thighs before plunging their hands around his neck. Link rammed his elbows into his attackers’ arms as he uncovered his own head. The attackers grip loosened momentarily before tightening once again, they had the element of surprise and gravity on their side.
Link’s head was still spinning, his eyes stung as the wine pooled into them. He pulled frantically at the hands preventing him from taking breath, his body bucking beneath them as he tried to dislodge them.

He blinked and shook the wine from his eyes as Knil’s loathe filled face came into focus. He could feel himself becoming weaker as the lack of oxygen began to take effect. Link sunk his nails into his sons’ arms as he jerked desperately at them to remove them from his neck. Links mouth gasped widely for air that wouldn’t come. His wide blood shot eyes stared pleading into Knil’s furious ones. Link writhed beneath Knil, his fingers clawing at Knil’s arms as they slowly drained of energy.

He knew he would die a violent death, so was the way of soldier, but not at the hands of his own son, he reflected.

His vision had begun fading black as his hands slid down his son’s arms. They fell limply to the ground, his head lolled to the side, as he watched the world slowly disappear from view.

“Ganondorf I ...Oh” Hilda remarked disappointed as Nabooru emerged into her room.

“Pack your things, your leaving.” Nabooru instructed.

“What? Where am I going?” Hilda requested.

“Away. Home. Anywhere but hear.”

“But this is my home!” Hilda defended.

“I am sure your Vai’ni would have a different opinion on that. Now pack your things. Quickly, or you leave only with what you’re wearing.” Nabooru commanded.

Hilda looked around her room. She stashed her blade into her travel bag, followed by clothes and her other personal effect that’s had been upon her the day of her capture.
Nabooru grabbed her arm and pulled her from the room, Hilda looked longingly back as she was dragged to Knil’s quarters down the corridor.

Nabooru held her belongs as she was sent in to collect her brothers’ items. She knew he already had a bag packed under his bed. She heaved it from the room, trying to stifle the soft jingles emerging from it. She silently cursed Knil for not disposing of his thieved treasure's.

Nabooru took her arm once again as they dashed upstairs to Zelda’s room. “I want to speak with Ganondorf” Hilda requested.

Nabooru said nothing, her grip tightened around Hilda’s arm in response.

Zelda’s door swung open, “KNIL!” Hilda exclaimed as she took in the view of her brother strangling Links limp form.

His head swung to her in response, horror was splayed across her face, Nabooru stood stunned beside her. He glanced back down at his father’s absent expression before releasing his hands.
Horrendous wheezing filled the room as Link gasped and spluttered for breath. Knil rolled off from him before storming to his sister.

“What happened!” Hilda questioned in alarm as Nabooru approached Link.

“He has another child!” Knil huffed outraged, pointing viciously at Link as Nabooru rolled him onto his side to aid his air intake. Links hands clutched at his red rimmed throat as he continued to struggle for breath, his body trembling.

“It is, my Vehvi ...my daughter.” Nabooru informed.

“What!” The two children said in unison.

“We wanted a child and ...Link was the only Voe my wife, Pyra trusted. If she was to lie with a Voe to conceive, she would only accept him. So, I requested it and… he agreed.” Nabooru informed them.

The event still lingered in her mind after all these years. She had given him strict instructions of how it was to be carried out. Link had… prepared himself in the other room as to limit the interaction as she and Pyra waited in the bedroom.
She had turned an armchair to face the wall and taken a seat in it as he knocked before shortly entering. Pyra laid on upon the bed, her hips dangling from its edge while dressed in her night gown. Link had uncomfortably made his way over to her wife.
She recalled the sounds, the fumbling of fabric as he loosened his pants, Pyra’s grunts of discomfort as he entered her while he stood, the way he had apologised. The sound of him slapping against her, the way his breath had changed as he released into her. They were subjected to it three more time over the coming months before his seed finally took.

Link’s blood shot eyes bulged as he continued to wheeze. The gasping and spluttering had stopped, replaced by coughing that forced his entire chest to constrict as it forced air into itself. He shakily managed to prop himself up on one arm, twisting his chest off the ground as he hunched over. He snorted the blood from his nose and spat it on the floor, he didn’t care, he was desperate for as much air as he could get.

Nabooru stood from his side, “Pack your mothers’ things, you’re all leaving.” She ordered Knil.

Knil stomped past Link, eyeing him coldly as he went to collect his mother’s things, Link adverted his eyes from him. Knil felt slightly guilty of what he had almost done, he was somewhat relieved that he wasn’t a murderer. He was still furious of cause that Link had snuck in here to try and woo his mother once again, despite his last warning.

“Link you can leave too… if you wish. I promise no harm will come to your Voe’s should you chose to go.” Nabooru notified sympathetically.

“His not coming with us!” Knil protested as he carried his mothers’ possessions, stopping at Hilda’s side.

Hilda watched Link pitifully before looking away.

“Will you be, ok for a few minutes?” Nabooru questioned Link concernedly as he managed his heavy gasps.

He nodded weakly.

“I’ll have Pyra find you.” Nabooru informed.

She strode to the door, “Come, we should find your mother”, She informed as they left the room. She closed the door softly behind her.

Link rolled onto his back, he laid exhausted in the pool of red wine and shattered glass as he closed his strained eyes. The occasional cough spluttering from his aching throat as he focused on the cold air refilling his starved lungs. 

Chapter Text

Ganondorf vanished into the other realm, leaving behind a trail of devastating destruction in his wake as he surged towards his alternate chamber. Splintered doors littered the corridor, their shattered remnants testament to his furious passage. The windows shattered into a thousand shards as he stormed past, surrounded by an aura of dark magic that crackled and swirled like a tempest unleashed.

With a thunderous explosion, his chamber door was wrenched from its hinges and hurled across the room, propelled by his uncontrollable rage. Tremors of fury coursed through his body as his energy surged into the objects within the chamber, causing them to radiate an eerie, malevolent glow of dark purple. Suspended in the air, they quivered mercilessly, subjected to the crushing force of his power.

The chamber became a symphony of destruction, filled with the cacophony of splintering wood, the tortured screams of bending metal, and the shattering of glass. It was a nightmarish crescendo that reverberated through the air, amplifying the chaos and terror. And then, in a cataclysmic climax, the shattered remnants of the objects exploded into a swirling maelstrom of darkness, punctuated by bolts of sinister purple lightning that danced within the swirling fog of Ganondorf's unleashed fury.

Chapter Text

Zelda was heading up the stairs when her children and Nabooru came hurrying down them carryings bags. “What has happened?” She questioned as she took in their pale faces.

“Ganondorf has decided that you are free to leave.” Nabooru informed.

Zelda’s eyes lingered briefly on Hilda who was avoiding her gaze before turning on the spot and heading back down the staircase as the others followed behind. They packed supplies on to Epona for their travel back to Farron. 
Knil led Epona from the courtyard, Hilda and Zelda followed silently behind.

“Hilda!” Ganondorf voice called from the doorway leading from the great Hall.

Hilda turned to him; her mother clutched her hand. “Hilda, please let’s go”. She requested pulling her daughter along.

Hilda took back her hand, “I’ll be quick."

She strode to Ganondorf as he made his way down the stone steps.
She stood awkwardly before him.

“Hilda, please forgive me for my… forwardness. It seems I was a little too honest with my feelings towards you. My offer still stands should you like to take it, to become a duchess, after your training.” He offered graciously.

“I... do not wish to leave.” She remarked regrettably, looking back at her mother, a drop of water splattering upon her cheek as the skies above her began to darken.

He stooped and whispered enticingly in her ear, his hand upon her shoulder. “Then stay… with me. We can rule together. All that I have, will be yours. All that I do, will be for you. I ask for so little. Just, dedicate yourself to me. Worship me. Love... me, and I will be your slave.”

Her mother was staring impatient at her. Knil’s eyes were begging for her to join them.
“I can’t… I am sorry.” She said in anguish pulling away from him, another splash of water doting her chest. She rummaged in her bag and produced the mirror dagger before offering back to him.

“No, It was gift, it is yours to keep. Let it protect you in my absences.” He requested folding her hands back over it.

“Hilda!” Zelda called, taking a few steps towards them.

“...Goodbye.” Hilda farewelled swiftly as she made her way back to her family.

“You will always be my esteemed guest should you wish to return!" Ganondorf called after her.

Chapter Text

“I hate this.” Hilda announced as she prodded at her slop of a breakfast the next morning.

“Oh Hilda, please. It’s just over one more day until we are home, then we will be out of this downpour.” Zelda remarked for what seemed like the fifth time that morning as they sat around the smouldering campfire, rain drizzling miserably around them.

Hilda set down her bowl beside her, leaving it untouched. Zelda sighed frustratedly as she made her way to stream to wash her bowl.

Knil had finished packing their gear onto Epona, before siting next to Hilda on her log, taking up her bowl. “It’s not like you to pass up food, Sis.” He clowned before shovelling down her unwanted meal. He waited until their mother was out of ear shot before turning more serious as he whispered, “You can tell me what happened Hilda, I won’t tell mum, I promise. I never told her about your magic. You can trust me.”

He had kept her secret, she reflected. Even though she had frightened him with her power, he had never told. She sighed. “He... confessed his feelings for me.”

Knil waited patiently for her to continue.

“Then he… touched me.”

Knil’s breath halted.

“Just my hand!” Hilda clarified at her brother’s tension. “I told him that I didn’t feel the same.”

He nodded eagerly for to go on.

“And ...that was it. He apologised and… left the room.”

“And… you’re sure you’re, ok?” He asked concernedly, not hundred percent convinced.

“Yes. Knil, he offered to make me a duchess. I could provide us with a proper home.”

“At what cost Hilda, he will expect your hand in return.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

Knil face contorted in disgust.

“He cares for me. He is kind, respectful, he even let me-” She paused, deciding against telling him about her possession of Ganondorf.

“He let you what?” Knil pursued.

Hilda coughed as their mother approached. Knil spooned down the rest of her breakfast before handing Hilda the bowl “All - yours Sis.” He spluttered porridge at her.

“Thanks.” She remarked sarcastically, smearing the porridge off her face.

Their cloaks had become saturated by the consistent wet weather as they marched alongside Epona. The light rain continued to dampen their sprits as they made camp early that evening. Knil had been unable to start a fire with the damp kindling, so Hilda used her magic fire to warm them.
It would burn for a short period before being overcome by rain, she relit it a few times before just giving up and forcing the wood to burn as she drained of magic. At least they had somewhat dried, before settling inside the cramped tent that Nabooru had packed them. This of cause did not help to improve their already tense moods.

“Hilda, I wish would just tell me what happened to make Ganondorf change his mind.” Her mother implored.

“I have already told you, nothing happened. We had a lesson. He left, then Nabooru said that we could leave. That is all,” Hilda defended.

Knil watched on awkwardly as he unrolled the bed rolls.

“What was this lesson?” Her mother questioned.

“Why? Would you like some magic classes, Mother?” Hilda countered cynically.

“No.” Zelda responded frustratedly, “Because I want to know what he has been teaching you.”

“What does it matter now. I won’t be able to learn anything else now.” Hilda snapped.

“Hilda we could not stay there. We were lucky enough that he had a lapse in character and let us go freely.”

“A lapse in character?” Hilda snorted. “Coming from the woman who lied to use about her name, about being from royalty our whole life. Who lied about our father. You said that you were married, but we are nothing more than the product of your love affair!”

“Hilda!” Her mother responded shocked.

“What! I am only being honest mother. Perhaps, I need to explain that term to you. You do seem to be unfamiliar with it after all.” Hilda responded ruthlessly.

“What has he done to you to make you this way?” Zelda scowled.

“What has he done? This is me! He helped me to find my true self. No longer will I be the weak, meek little girl that you made me into!” Hilda raged as she stormed from the tent.

“Hilda!” Zelda called, proceeding after her.

Knil grabbed his mother’s arm pulling her back in. “Mum, please, just… let me speak to her.” Knil persuaded.

Zelda shook her head defeatedly before turning back into the tent.

Knil jogged through the rain to catch up with Hilda. She had summoned a glittery dome above her to shield herself from the rain as she paced in the darkened forest.
Knil approached slowly. “Can I come under?” He asked softly.

“That depends, are you hear to scold me too?” She ridiculed, staring coldly at him. He maintained his sympathetic expression as the rain splattered his semi dry clothes once again. Hilda widened her shelter to include him.

“Thank you.” He remarked appreciatively. He waited beside her as they observed the dark forest together, listening to the sound of rain pattering upon the dampened leaves.

Sometime past before Hilda spoke. “Knil, I don’t want to go back to being a peasant. Not when I know there is a better life that we could be living.”

"Hilda, the stable boy told me of a group of rebels as we were leaving, they are fighting to reinstate mother." Knil informed, "We could find them, with mother at their lead they would stand a chance at overtaking Ganondorf, we could the live the lives he had taken from us."

"No! I will not fight against him. Not after everything he has done for me." Hilda defended.

“Then... I have plenty of jewellery and rupees, we won’t be peasants anymore.” Knil coaxed.

“For how long Knil? When we run out, then what? You will return to stealing. Mother to poaching. Your luck will run out, then after your hands they will take your heads.”

“Hilda your freedom is more valuable than a life of luxury."

Hilda tuned away as she pondered. There are far worse fates then marrying a king. Had he not been proven himself to her, the depths that he would go to for her sake? Had he not been respectful of her, compassionate, kind? What more does one look for in a husband? Sure, he was older. A lot older, but would he not care for her? Provide for her? Empower her?

“Hilda?” Questioned Knil’s voice, bring her back down to earth. “You’re not considering it, are you?”

She glanced off into the woods.

“Hilda, he would always have power over you. Don’t forget what he is capable of. What lengths he will go to in order to achieve his goals. It was not kindness that won him the kingdom of Hyrule, but brute force.” Knil conveyed.

“He showed it to me. How to mesmerise. He allowed me to control him Knil. He gave me power over him.” Hilda confessed.

“Hilda, I am begging you, please, don’t consider this. Unlike mother, you have the choice to marry someone that you love. Marrying for privileges will not bring you happiness, only remorse. Just, please, try and embrace the way we used to live. I promise, you will forget all about the castle once you get back into normal life. Ok? Just try, Please? For me?” Knil convinced.

Hilda sighed “...Ok.”

Knil embraced her in a hug. “Thank you.”

The next morning, Hilda and Epona were gone.

Chapter Text

Hilda rode into the castle courtyard later that afternoon. The guards led her to the entrance of the throne room, Ganondorf was in a deep discussion with the local lords of the area when the Lord Stewart announced her arrival. Ganondorf stopped mid-sentence at the announcement of her name. He looked through the lords as she followed the two guards into the room.

“Leave us.” Ganondorf motioned for his guards and the lords to exit. “And you too.” He waved away a begrudging Nabooru. She eyed him contemptuously as she closed the door behind her.

Hilda stood anxiously before him, awaiting his reaction to her return.

He rose from his throne, “I cannot express how pleased I am to see you, Hilda. You wish to stay and continue your training?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Ganondorf.” He corrected. “Your stay here is not conditional Hilda. We are in private. Please, call me by my name.”

She nodded, lowering her head.

“I would like to note… that my feelings towards you remain unchanged.” He addressed stepping down the raised platform surrounding his throne before coming to a stop in front of Hilda. He bowed his head, trying to view her face as he spoke, “I would only like to request permission to express my affections towards you. If you will allow it of cause.”

“What would your… affections entail?” She asked apprehensively, her eyes rising to him.

“Sharing every meal together. Meaningful discussions. Promenading, picnicking by the river. Perhaps we could finally play an actual game of chess. I would have no other expectations, not until… we are wed.”

Hilda thought over his offer. She could do this, it wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy his company, she considered. Their interactions together had always complemented each other. He had always been kind to her, listen to her, helped her. Had he not been chivalrous in his request? She knew there would be “physical expectations” in a marriage, although she wasn’t entirely sure what.
She had glimpsed… “things” in the back of alley ways growing up. Pantless men rubbing against a woman’s bare skin, hands under garments. Sometimes women or even men kneeling in front of other men. It had intrigued her but made her uncomfortable at the same time. Is that what would be expected of her, to touch him, to be felt by him?

Mother had said that children came of love once married. But she had not been married. Nabooru and Pyra were married yet they need Link to ‘conceive’ a child. Is that how woman came to be with child? By touching skin to skin with a man’s bare form? Is that what her mother had done with Link? She shuddered internally at the thought as she pushed the images from her mind. Perhaps her feelings would grow as they spent quality time together.

“I accept… your… proposal.” She replied timidly.

“I am flattered, but it was… not a proposal.” Ganondorf clarified, Hilda looked away blushing as he went on. “Just a simple request to get to know each other on a more personal bias. However,” he took her hands and knelt on one knee before her. Even whilst kneeling, he was still a head above her. “Should you accept a proposal. I would fill your every need, any request that you ask of me. If you became my queen.”

He looked deeply into her eyes as he placed a ring in her palm before closing her hand over it, “If and when you chose to accept it.” He stood and spun back towards his throne. “I should like to celebrate your return. Perhaps a ball dedicated in your honour. I think four days should be enough to prepare. I will need to organise catering and…”

The sound of Ganondorf’s rambling voice buzzed in her ears. Her focus was entirely engaged on the ring in her palm. A black diamond crowned the centre of a lily shaped flower as delicate vines spiralled the circumfuse of the silver ring. It was the first two gifts he had given her, the black obsidian stone, and a single flower. They were hardly gifts at all, but she had cherished them, nevertheless. Not because Ganondorf had presented them to her, but because of what they symbolised. The simple pebble that had helped her to overcome her own self-doubt, and a rare silent princess flower that flourished from magic as she had. He had been truly considerate in choosing its design.

Ganondorf, a king, a mighty warlock, had bowed down before her, offering to fill her every desire. To make her his queen, his equal. She felt butterflies’ flitter through her stomach.
“Yes.” She said in a soft voice behind him.

His cape swirled around him with the speed to which he tuned to face her, a puzzled expression sprawled across his face, unsure whether his ears had deceived him while he had been discussing the requirements for the upcoming ball.

She was staring stone faced at the ringing in her open palm. Her eyes slowly rose to his, “Yes.” She repeated, a subtle smile creeping into her face.

He exhaled in relief as exhilaration flooded through him. He beamed, “Then an engagement party instead it is.” He strode towards her, taking the ring from her. He held her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. He clasped her hand before taking her delicate face in the other as he inquired, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I do.” She nodded, grinning.

“I promise, I will make you happy.” He vowed, taking her left hand once again before kissing lightly it. “I must… unfortunately continue with my meeting however, I’ve kept them waiting long enough, but I look forward to seeing you at dinner... my betrothed. I’ve kept your room in order in hope of your return, nevertheless you are free to pick out any of the other rooms in the castle. Except mine, of cause.” He jested.

“Thank you, but I have grown quite fond of it.”

“Very well.” He paused before hesitantly going on, “I feel as though… your family would not have approved of your return. Should they arrive, did you want to see them?”

She took some time before responding, “Not… right now."

“Of cause. Perhaps at the engagement celebrations then?” He suggested before continuing, “I would like to announce our engagement to the lords if you will stay a little longer?”

“Ok…” She replied hesitantly.

“They should fear you, not you them. You are to be their future queen after all.” He persuaded. “Enter!” He called. The guards and lords filled back into the room, Nabooru was still glaring at him, he could feel her burning gaze.
“I would like to make an announcement! The lovely Lady, Hilda of Hyrule, has accepted my proposal of marriage.” Ganondorf boomed as he took Hilda’s left hand, holding it up before the room. Applause erupted from those in the room, apart from Nabooru who was entertaining an unenthusiastic clap.

Hilda curtsied, it felt appropriate she reasoned.

Ganondorf smiled inwardly at her response. “Thank you, we will be holding celebrations in four days times, you will receive your invitations by tomorrow afternoon.” He addressed the lords as he released Hilda’s hand. “Thank you, my lady, you may carry on.” He notified Hilda.

“Thank you, my lord.” She politely bowed her head before exiting.

Dinner with Ganondorf had been pleasant and relaxing, she had still been too full to enjoy it as she had visited the kitchens shortly after their engagement. She hadn’t eaten since last nights “banquet” of dried rations and couldn’t wait for dinner.
Ganondorf informed her of the arrangements that he had made for tomorrow. They were to go horse riding to the river for a picnic lunch.
After dinner she settled into her room, Ganondorf had seen to her silent princess while she was gone and even planted it into a small ceramic pot, the black stone rested at its stem.
She had missed her warm fireplace and comfy soft bed as she dozed off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Hilda strode into the courtyard to find Epona ready and waiting beside Ganondorf and his gigantic black stallion just before midday. She had never seen such large creature, her head reached slightly higher than its breast. She could have effortless walked under it without hardly ducking. “I didn’t realise we could bring our bears, your majesty?” She questioned mockingly, eyeing of the beast.

Ganondorf chortled, “Oh, did the stewardess not inform you, my lady?” He refuted, holding out his hand to assist her before mounting his own steed.

“Did you sleep well?” He questioned, turning his mount from the courtyard.

“Very well, thank you. ...You?”

“I can sleep in peace now that you have returned.” He charmed.

She returned a nervous smile.

“As my betrothed, you will have a certain privilege around the castle, my servants are yours to command. You will have a budget of a thousand rupees a week to spend on whatever you like-”

“A thousand rupees?” She questioned in disbelief.

“Will you require more?” He quired.

“No! Thank you. It will be more than plenty.” She ensured. That alone could have comfortably fed her entire family for a month, plus Epona.

They clattered over the wooden draw bridge as they edged their horses into a trot across the open field. Ganondorf’s personal servants and six guards followed behind them at a distance.
“I should like to see your portaling skills, I am sure they have since improved over the last few days.” Ganondorf requested.

“I ...haven't practiced” She trailed.

“Have you practiced any magic?”

“Yes, a little.”

“Good, a little is better than nothing.” He watched her bobbing beside him, his eyes analysing her shag old horse. “Would you a new horse? Perhaps a younger and… more sophisticated one? Perhaps as an engagement gift?”

“Epona, is more than reliable, she has talent unseen by the naked eye.” She suggested, patting the horse’s neck.

“Really?” Ganondorf chuckled, “A Talent? Would that be a talent of eating the most apples within one minute?” He teased.

“No…” She glared, “Unlike your horse, she is bred for more than looks.” She remarked cleverly.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Ganondorf enquired, reining his horse to a stop.

Hilda stopped beside him. “Very well. No faster than a canter, however.”

“I agree to your terms. First to the tree by bridge wins. On the count of three then?”

Hilda nodded.

Ganondorf counted down, “Three... Two-”

Hilda took off.

“...One” He said to no one before spurring on after her.

Ganondorf’s mount closed the distance between them with its long strides. He cantered beside Hilda, matching her pace. “Should I tie a sack of apples to my saddle bags to encourage her talent!” He taunted before pulling away from Hilda.

Epona clung on behind as they approached the tree. Hilda urged her into a gallop, overtaking Ganondorf as she took the finish line.
She bounced clumsily in the saddle before slowing and turning Epona aback to him, smiling victoriously.

“I didn’t release we were allowed to cheat?” Ganondorf smirked, challenging her.

“I did no such thing!” She defended smugly, “I never said that I could not gallop.”

Ganondorf shook his head, grinning, “You are devious."

“I like to think of it as guaranteeing success.” She remarked playfully, stopping Epona by his side.

“Perhaps, I could show you the true speed that he is capable of?” He questioned, extending his hand to her as he shuffled back into his saddle. She took his hand; he plucked her effortlessly from Epona as he helped positioned her into the front of his saddle. She shifted in an attempting to steady herself into the small gap as she grasped the pommel. Her movements between his legs stirred him, he suddenly regretted the idea.

“Stop… squirming.” He instructed uncomfortably.

She did not.

He impatiently gripped the reins in his right hand before wrapping his left arm around her, pulling her closer to his body. He stooped to whisper in her ear. “I will not let you fall. Now still."

She clung to his arm before finally settling. His servant collected Epona’s reins and led her away. Ganondorf sighed, allowing himself to calm before awkwardly manipulated the reins as he manoeuvred his horse over the short bridge. “Hold on.” He instructed. She hugged his arm tighter. ‘YA! YAH!” He urged, rapidly tapping the stallions’ sides.

It lurched forward, Hilda slipped backwards into him, he stiffened his arm to keep her steady as they continued gaining speed. The wind whipped around them as they bolted along the streams edge. Hilda clung desperately to his arm as she bounced uncontrollably.
He tightened his grip on her waist and helped her to match the horse’s movements. After finally finding her rhythm, she began to smile, the fear of falling and being trampled disbanded from her mind.
Hilda watched in awe as the stream and trees blurred past the thundering horse. The short gallop on Epona compared nothing to the likes of this flying creature. They quickly approached the streams junction with the river as Ganondorf pulled in the reins, slowing to a trot.

“Well?” Ganondorf questioned.

“He is amazing. I’ve never been that fast in my life.” She admitted, patting the panting horse’s neck. “What is his name?”

"Phantom." He informed, loosening his grip from her waist as they neared the picnic spot. He swung from the saddle as Hilda fell into his spot. She was dwarfed by the massive creature as she sat alone in its saddle. She twisted her leg over and sat side wards as Ganondorf plucked her down. She patted the horse’s shoulder, being unable to reach its neck anymore.

“My lady.” Ganondorf called, offering his arm for her to take. She placed her arm on top of his. They strolled to the spot that had been set up for them. A soft rug adorned with plush cushions and an assortment of delectable food lay beneath the shade of a majestic tree, providing a picturesque view of the serene river. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a soothing melody that accompanied their intimate setting. The servant who had prepared the area discreetly led Ganondorf's horse away, leaving them in blissful seclusion.

They settled onto the plush cushions, their bodies sinking into the comfort they provided. Hilda's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she admired the spread before them—a tantalizing array of savoury and sweet delights carefully arranged on silver trays embellished with intricate designs. The vibrant colours of fresh fruits and succulent treats beckoned to be savoured. Glasses of chilled wine stood ready, their golden hues reflecting the tranquil beauty of their surroundings.

Ganondorf had made a concerted effort to impress her, displaying his charm and chivalry as he attended to her every need. Hilda couldn't help but bask in the warmth of his attention, finding herself drawn to the way he made her feel genuinely special. The dappled sunlight filtered through the lush foliage as the day ticked on, casting a warm glow over their secluded spot. The fragrance of wildflowers danced in the air as the rhythmic babbling of the river provided a soothing soundtrack, blending harmoniously with their hushed conversation.

"Desserts?" Ganondorf questioned, holding a silver platter filled with an array of delectable sweets before Hilda.

"I thought you would never ask," Hilda replied with a warm smile, her gaze fixated on the tantalizing treats before her. She carefully selected a cannoli powdered with delicate icing sugar, savouring the sweet aroma that wafted from it.

Ganondorf set down the tray and reached for a cluster of grapes.

Hilda's eyebrows shot up in amusement and surprise as she glanced back at the tray overflowing with an assortment of irresistible delights. "Are you still afraid of getting sticky?" She playfully teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Not exactly. I've just never really been drawn to sweets."

Hilda's eyes fluttered in disbelief, a mix of astonishment and curiosity shining in her gaze. She couldn't fathom someone resisting the allure of such delectable treats. Her eyes drifted back to the assortment of deserts. "You had these prepared all for me?" She asked, her voice tinged with a sense of wonder and appreciation.

"Well... I would like to think you would allow me to have one or two." Ganondorf jested.

"Perhaps..." Hilda replied smugly, taking another bite of the cream filled pastry. "Hmmm... you don't know what your missing out on." Hilda teased.

Ganondorf sighed a smile, before holding out his hand, gesturing with his fingers for her to share some.

Hilda shook her head ever so slightly, "Can't have you getting sticky." Hilda teased before holding out the treat for him to bite.

A smirk crept across Ganondorf's lips as he leaned down to sample the snack. Just as he was about to take a bite, Hilda lifted it up, smearing the cream across the tip of his nose before swiftly pulling it away and taking another bite herself. She couldn't contain her triumphant smile as icing sugar sprinkled her lips.

Ganondorf chuckled in disbelief, using a silk napkin to wipe the cream from his nose. His eyes locked with Hilda's as a playful glint appeared in his gaze.

"You are ...incorrigible." He remarked playfully, setting down his napkin.

"And what will you do about it?" Hilda challenged with a widening smile.

Ganondorf's eyes narrowed upon her, a smirk playing on his lips "Nothing..."

"Is the mighty Ganondorf defeated so easily by his young apprentice?" Hilda taunted.

"...Yet. The battle has only just begun my dear." Ganondorf informed, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"You seem to be forgetting-" With a burst of energy, she leapt from her spot on the rug, the porcelain plates clattered as the mat bunched up on itself. Giggling filled the woodlands as she dashed between the surrounding trees. "You'll have to catch me first!" She called out, her voice filled with playful challenge.

Ganondorf's smirk widened as he watched Hilda's playful escape. With a deliberate and measured stride, he rose from his spot, his eyes focused and determined. The thrill of the chase igniting a primal fire within him, as he moved swiftly to pursue her.

Hilda skilfully weaved through the trees, her movements fluid and agile before she disappeared from view, her steps and giggles fading into silence.

"I will find you, my dear." Ganondorf called determinedly, as he strode purposeful through the sparse woods. He paused, listening intently.

Hilda's stifled laughter greeted his ears.

A victorious smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he pinpointed her position. With utmost stealth, Ganondorf began to stalk towards her, closing the distance between them.

Hilda's cautious smile glimpsed out from behind her tree, her eyes widening in anticipation as she realized Ganondorf was closing in. Ganondorf lunged forward, reaching out to grab her. She squealed with laughter as she dashed backward, keeping just out of his reach before disappearing once more.

Ganondorf's smirk grew wider, his teeth bared in a playful display of predatory delight as he whispered to himself "Run, little rabbit..." His voice dripping with playful menace.

As Hilda hid once more, her breath panting deeply as her head rested against the trunk of a tree, she couldn't help but reflect on her previous obliviousness. The countless compliments and expressions of care that she had dismissed as mere kindness now took on a different meaning. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the subtleties of his behaviour that had escaped her at the time. The way he had cut their night short under the stars after she told him she felt like his daughter. She giggled internally at the thought of the romantic, mystical setting that had swept straight over her head. The subtle remarks, the gestures that eluded here at the time were all painfully obvious in hindsight.

She peaked around the side of the tree once more, her eyes scanning for Ganondorf. As she leaned out a little further, she felt a sudden surge of unease. The woods were eerily silent, devoid of any sign of movement. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. With cautious steps, Hilda ventured out from her hiding spot, her senses on high alert. She moved quietly, her ears attuned to the slightest rustle of leaves or snap of a twig. Every so often, she glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting Ganondorf to materialize behind her.

She had moved between several trees and she had still not caught a glimpse of him. He couldn't have been portaling, she assessed, she would have seen purple flashes, yet he seemed to have vanished. Hilda's heart raced as the sound of leaves rustled behind her, and she instinctively spun towards the source of the noise. To her surprise, a grey rabbit emerged from the brush. A glint of purple sparkled within its hassle iris as its tilted head regarded her with curiously. It hopped closer, seemingly undisturbed by her presence.

It stood on its hind legs, it's tiny front paws rubbing together as it smoothed down its fur. Fixated on the tamed creature, she was unaware of shadow slowly creeping along the ground behind her, the dark silhouette leisurely enveloping the rabbit before her.

"Gotcha." Ganondorf voice whispered teasingly before a pair of strong arms encircled her waist, lifting her effortlessly from the ground.

She let out a mixture of startled screams and infectious laughter as she found herself sprawled over his shoulder. Her heart raced with excitement as she playfully pounded her fists against his back, a mix of mock protest and giddy exhilaration.

"Where are you taking me?" She laughed, succumbing to the ride as she watched the picnic spot vanish from view.

"Its a nice day for a swim, is it not?" Ganondorf smirked.

"Don't you dare." She giggled in disbelief, trying to rotate her head towards the direction he was heading to no avail.

The crunch of pebbles sounded under Ganondorf's heavy boots. The sound of running water growing louder, before his boots splashed into the waters edge.

"Ganondorf, no!" She exclaimed, a mix of laughter and excitement in her voice.

With a sudden motion, he leaped forward, releasing Hilda from his grip and sending them both soaring through the air. They crashed into the river with a resounding splash, engulfed by the chilling water.

Hilda gasped in shock as her head emerged from the icy water, "Its free-zing." Her breath stuttered.

Ganondorf broke the surface, his teeth chattered as he exclaimed, "Fu-ck, it's co-ld".He located Hilda behind him before pulling her back to shore, both of them eager to escape the frigid waters. The rivers that snaked into Gerudo valley were warm all year round, he reflected, he'd clearly not swum since his days in the desert. 

As they walked up the riverbank, a sudden surge of Ganondorf's magic enveloped them, creating an intense and comforting gust of hot wind. The warm air wrapped around them, drying their soaked clothes and bringing much needed relief from the biting cold. "I... I didn't expect it to be that cold," He admitted with a rueful smile.

Hilda's eyebrow raised in surprise and amusement at Ganondorf's playful behaviour as she discovered a different side to him. The moments they had shared, filled with laughter and unexpected playfulness, revealed a depth to his character she hadn't fully grasped before.

A smile crept along Ganondorf's face followed by a stifled snort as he took in Hilda's appearance.

"What?' Hilda enquired at his new found laughter.

"It's just... your hair... its... adorable." He grinned, a hint of tenderness in his voice.

Hilda's hand brushed over her hair, feeling its unkempt frizziness. She glared at Ganondorf, a playful challenge in her eyes before launching herself at him, aiming to push him back into the water.

Ganondorf's eyes widened in surprise as Hilda collided with his waist, her effort causing a chuckle to escape his lips as his sturdy frame barely budged. He wrapped his arms around Hilda, embracing her tightly before plunged back into the water once more.

Chapter Text

“What have you done to my daughter!” Zelda challenged as Ganondorf finally made his way into the throne room that evening to great his unwanted guests.

“What have I done? I have freed her.” He hissed. “I thought you were the jewal of the royal family. But Hilda. Ah, she is more than I would have ever imagined.” Ganondorf taunted taking his seat in the throne.

“So, that’s what she is. A prize to be claimed. All for the sake of vengeance. Does your dishonour have no bounds?”

“You think so little of me. That I am incapable of love? Why would I make her pay, for your sins? That reminds me.” He pulled two letters from his pocket and threw them at Zelda and Knil. “Your invitations.” He smirked, leaning back into his throne as the letters floated to the floor in front of Zelda.

Zelda snatched the papers from the floor. The words Ganondorf, Hilda, celebrate and engagement assaulted her eyes.
“No…” Zelda trailed.

“Oh yes indeed. I must thank you Princess. If not for you, leaving your glove behind, I wouldn't have stumbled upon your blunder. I would have been imprisoned in an unfaithful marriage. And now, you have also given me my wonderful, adoring future queen. How could I ever thank you?” He asked sardonically.

“I want to see my daughter!” Zelda demanded.

“I should think not. She does not wish to see you till the celebrations. And as my future queen I shall abided by her wishes." He paused, savouring Zelda's torment before proceeding self-righteously. "I trust that you won’t rain on our engagement. It will only dampen spirits after all.” He smiled viciously.

Zelda glared into his eyes, analysing his emphases before gasping. “You sent that downpour after us!” Zelda accused, marching up to him, Knil grabbed her arm as Ganondorf rose furiously from his throne to great her.

“Try it.” He sneered savagely. "...Give me a reason, I implore you."

Zelda huffed, turning on her heal as she headed for the door.

“I wonder Princess…” Ganondorf called after her smugly, “Will she make those faces… those sounds as you did. When I fuck her on my wedding night?”

Knil had already bear hugged his mother before she turned.

He chuckled cruelly as Knil dragged her, kicking and screaming to the exit. "Guards! Ensure they are escorted from the castle grounds!” He instructed as they re-entered the room. He could think of nothing he loved more than toying with Zelda, she made it so easy, he reflected. He had made sure Nabooru wasn’t present for that interaction he was growing weary of her lectures and cold stares.

Chapter Text

After much deliberation, Zelda had managed to convince Knil to bribe one of the castle guards to pass a letter on to Link. They had rented a room in a dingy inn on the outskirts of the city. The taverns environment was as dark and shady as the occupants that had called upon it.

Link had reluctantly shown up to the run-down inn at quarter past nine that night. He found Zelda settled in a booth by the fireplace. He sat down opposite her. She gasped as she took in his blood shot eyes, his crooked nose, and the purple ring around his throat. He crossed his arms on-top of the table, long thin scabs had begun to form where his skin had been torn by shards of glass.

Had her son really done that?
“I am so sorry, Link” She apologised.

He adverted his eyes, shifting embarrassedly.

Zelda quickly changed the subject to ease his discomfort, “...Thank you ...for coming on such short notice. I am sure you have no doubt heard of our daughter’s ...engagement.” She whispered.

He nodded.

“You have a daughter, to Nabooru.” Zelda stated more than questioned.

“Her wife. Pyra” Link managed to croak huskily before breaking into a fit of coughs.

Zelda offered him her light ale; he spluttered as he drank the refreshing liquid.

“It still hurts?” She asked sensitively.

He returned her an expression that indicated the idiocy of that question.

“...Sorry." She apologised before continuing. “Then... she must trust you somewhat. Could you convince her to meet with us? She helped us from the castle, perhaps she will help us again?”

Link looked doubtfully at Zelda.

“I don’t know what else to do Link." Zelda admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "If I were to go anywhere near that rebellion for help, heavens knows what he will do to Hilda." She paused, her mind swirling with various scenarios. With a heavy sigh, she continued, "Nabooru is next in line for his throne, that must be somewhat of a temptation. She must disagree with his actions, why else would she rush us from the castle? If we can appeal to her, persuade her to come to an arrangement of some sort... to... remove him from the throne.” She muttered, her voice trailing off.

"Treason?" Link mouthed, shaking his head in disbelief.

Zelda hushed her voice and leaned in closer. “He trusts her, she will know of his weaknesses, I am sure of it.” She hushed. “What about Pyra, she is your friend. Appeal to her motherly side, encourage her to help convince Nabooru.”

Link looked away unsurely.

“Please Link. I wouldn’t ask this if it wasn’t necessary. Be the courageous young man that I once knew. Please…” Zelda pleaded, taking his hands from across the table.

He looked into her desperate eyes. He sighed deeply before nodding. Was this how he would mend the rift between them? He pondered.

Nabooru followed Pyra into the dimly lit tavern the following afternoon. She looked around in disgust at the shabby inn, inspecting the grim and soot covered worn furnishing.

“Pyra why have you brought me here? The plague pits would be more pleasant than this place.” Nabooru remarked scanning the room. Her eyes fell upon Link standing at the top of the rickety wooden staircase. He was waiting for her.
Nabooru glared at Pyra.

“Please just listen to what they have to say.” Pyra reasoned.

“They?” Nabooru frowned.

“Please. For me.” Pyra persuaded, taking her hand.

That would explain why they were in a shady place. For shady dealings. Nabooru analysed.

She followed her wife up the creaking stairs as Link made his way into a small room to the right. Zelda was seated at the small uneven table. Knil stood beside her.
Link pulled out a chair and indicated for Nabooru to sit. She did so disdainfully as Pyra closed the door behind them. They took their places at the cramped table as tension filled the air.

Link was nervously tapping his fingers on the table before addressing the awkward gathering. “Thank you, Nabooru. Pyra.” He acknowledged with a hushed gravelly voice. He took a drink to sooth his aching throat. He looked to Zelda.

"I am eternally grateful for your presence, Nabooru," Zelda began, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension. She observed Nabooru's cold and unenthusiastic glare. Her eyes flicked to Link for support who offered an encouraging nod. Gathering her courage, Zelda continued, "I have... summoned you here to discuss a matter concerning Hilda and her sudden infatuation with Ganondorf. We believe that he has manipulated her mind using his dark magic. There is no other explanation for her abrupt change of heart in accepting his proposal after previously denying any feelings for him. I fear his intentions may involve revenge or a sinister plot involving Hilda's own magical abilities. As a mother yourself, I believe you can understand the depths one would go to protect their child. Therefore, I humbly request your assistance in helping my daughter, your ...niece, to break free from his control and restore her mind before it's too late."

“And what depths would these be?” Nabooru questioned frustratedly, as Zelda delayed the unpleasantries.

Zelda took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding, “A trade. Critical information in return for a relic."

“And what information would that be?” Nabooru scowled.

Zelda's voice remained steady as she suggested, “A weakness. A way of controlling or supressing magic.”

Nabooru's voice lowered, filled with a harsh intensity, “You’re not only asking me to betray my brother, but commit high treason. I could have all three of you arrested and beheaded before sunrise." Nabooru threatened her eyes narrowing upon Zelda. She lent her elbow on the table, leaning closer to the group before demanding, her tone laced with scepticism and intrigue. "What is it that you believe you could possibly offer the Gerudo that we don't already posse, for me to consider such a perilous deal?”

“Apart from the opportunity to prevent a tyrant early on in his tracks?" Zelda relayed boldly. "I’ve heard of your people’s legends. A demon known as Demise, reincarnated as a Gerudo man. Is that not why his own mother tried to kill him?"

Zelda's statement earnt the curious gaze of Link and Knil.

Nabooru frowned suspiciously at her, "How... Do you know that?"

"He told me during the night of our ...engagement." Zelda informed before continuing, "If you allow him to do this, what will he stop at? How long before he realises his potential and consumes everything?” 

Nabooru remained silent as she watched Zelda intently.

“Would you not do the same for Riju?” Link pleaded huskily. “The very child that I made for you at your request… despite the implication it would have upon me had Ganondorf discovered it.” He forced his throat to relay as it slowly faded in croaks. 

“And I have shown my gratitude for my Vehvi with the information I withheld from my brother in benefit of you. Including your four most recent endeavours to Zelda’s chambers.” Nabooru quipped.

“You knew?!” Link questioned.

“Of cause I knew.” Nabooru criticised.

“Four? Mother you never informed me of a fourth visit!” Knil interjected.

Zelda's and Link's eyes danced awkwardly over each other before quickly looking away. She had sort him out after learning of Hilda’s magic before arranging to speak with him in her chambers. He had apologised profusely for his behaviour towards their son as she allowed himself to explain himself.
She had begrudgingly accepted his apology before questioning him about his parentage to which of cause, he was unable to remember. This topic lead them into reminiscing about their childhood together, which in turn led to them sharing a passionate kiss. Zelda had then yelled at him afterwards, accusing him of trying to seduce her whilst she was in a vulnerable and emotional state.

“It doesn’t matter. That’s not why where here.” Zelda brushed the topic away as Knil glared between his mother and Link.

“...And you made me apologise.” Knil muttered under his breath.

The room fell silent before Nabooru spoke up, “I have observed my brothers… obsession for the Vehvi. And will not deny my concerns. He has become... unpredictable, and… exclusive. But, what you ask is too great.”

“He has taken everything from me Nabooru. My home, kingdom, father, my future. Don't let him take my child as well.” Zelda pleaded. She lent closer, her voice laden with conviction. “The Gerudo respect and follow your order, you were meant to be their queen. Retake you claim, be rid of the thorn in your side and inherit the throne you are entitled to." Zelda's voice grew stronger as she continued, her tone filled with determination, "Ganondorf does not care for his own people, once he claimed Hyrule, what happened to them? They were either forced to adapt or were forgotten. The proud tribes of the Gerudo's lay disbanded throughout Hyrule as your home villages are consumes by the sands of time. The traditions of you people dwindle, your very language diminishes with each passing generation. Your own Daughter now reflects the trait of a Hylian. Rebuild your homeland for your future generations, for your daughter’s rein before her very heritage is lost.”

Nabooru pondered Zelda's words, a flicker of denial lingering in her expression. Her eyes hardened, “And if I were to claim my brother's throne, what guarantee do I have that the rebellion fighting in your name wouldn't turn against me in his absence?" Nabooru questioned with a hint of scepticism. "Or do you expect me to hand Hyrule back to you then?” Nabooru questioned absurdly.

Zelda shook her head, her voice filled with sincerity. "I have no affiliation with the rebellion, Nabooru. If I had, would I not be asking them for help, not you? All I ask for is the safety of my family, nothing more." Zelda emphasized. "If you are concerned about the rebellion, I propose that I be given a voice on your council. Surely, that would satisfy the people and you could reign unopposed. But why not return prosperity to your land once more, focus your efforts into rebuilding your spirit temple? The ones the royals… my… ancestors desecrated. Become more than just a nation of thieves.”

Nabooru remained silent, deep in thought, as she weighed the possibilities and the potential consequences of their actions. After a short time she spoke up, “Even if I could manage to locate the ruins, without the Spirit Medallion, it is nothing more than cursed rubble.” Nabooru reasoned.

“I know where it is.” Zelda advised.

“What? Your accentors destroyed it.” Nabooru rejected.

“No. I have seen it, held it. This emblem,” Zelda unravelled a piece of parchment with a charcoal rubbing of a Ying and yang medallion upon the table before continuing. “Is fashioned into almost every piece of Gerudo jewellery.”

Nabooru looked in wonder at the highly detailed impression of her peoples sacred lost artefact.

“I thought it no coincidence, so I searched through scrolls regarding Gerudo artefacts. Lo and behold, its image and description also matched that of an emblem that I recalled seeing from my very childhood. Once Ganondorf allowed me to walk unguarded through halls of the castle, I relocated it once more." Zelda informed proudly before pointing at the sketch, driving her point home, "This is your Spirit medallion that will bring hope to your people. And only I and I alone know of its location.”

Nabooru eyed Zelda suspiciously before examining the rubbing once again. It was extremely detailed; she traced her hands over the raised ancient text that fringed the medallion. It was real and Zelda knew where it was, Nabooru confirmed. This relic would bring an age of enlightenment to her Via's.
Nabooru sighed, “If I am do to this, you must promise me once thing.” Nabooru focused her attention on Link.
“Promise me, despite your past, you will end him quickly and mercifully.” Nabooru requested.

“Of cause.” Link nodded without hesitation.

They discussed the terms of the agreement. Nabooru would provide them with his weakness and assist them in entrapping Ganondorf, but she would not fight against him. Zelda had sworn on her life and that of her children’s that she would return the Spirit medallion once the plan had been executed.

“Go to the armoury, find a steel chest plate, and buckler.” Nabooru instructed to Link. “Polish them. Polish them until their reflection is as clear as a mirror. When Ganondorf sees it, he won’t dare use his magic against you. But be warned, if he is injured, he may flee into the other world until he can heal. You must follow him. Remove his sword from his presence and you’ll be able to destroy it so he cannot return, then finish him. But know that should you succeed, you will not be able to return to this world. Should you hesitate and he escapes alone into the other world, he will return and wreak vengeance on all of us. This cannot happen. Is this a sacrifice you are willing to make?” Nabooru questioned.

Link looked into Zelda’s imploring eyes. “Very well. If it comes down to it, I will not hesitate.” Link confirmed gruffly.

Zelda placed her hand over his, “Thank you, Link."

Knil grumbled at her action.

“Till tomorrow Saaba then.” Nabooru said briskly as she rose from the table and exited with Pyra.

Link rose from the table and sore them out, gently closing the door behind them before turning back to Zelda. She had risen and crossed the room towards him, Knil rose also, his eyes watching them closely, a disapproving scowl strewn across his face, his arms crossing before him. 

Zelda took up Links hands, holding them firmly, a look of utter gratitude filled her eyes as spoke, "Link... thank you. Truly. For everything."

Link gave a small nod, having fully expended his voice. His saddened eyes searched hers, wishing to stay with her, to find comfort in her company before tomorrows deadly task. 

Yet, as their hands separated, it was clear that their paths diverged for the night. However the delicate note slipped into his hand as she released him kindled his flame once more, his eyes drifted to the note as Knil peered suspiciously around his mother. Link clutched the note in his hands, hiding it from view before stowing it secretly into his pocket. 

"Good night Link." Zelda announced, pulling away from him completely, a kind smile sparkling in her eyes.

Link returned the smile, nodding his head towards her once again, before his eyes crossed to his son. He paused uncertainly, as Knil maintained his cold stare. Link held his gaze, his expression stoic as he dipped his head in farewell. Knil's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he analysed the man before him before returning a subtle nod in return. 

As Link exited the inn, he retrieved the note from his pocket, unfolding it in the dim lights of the torches adorning the Inns entrance. With a sense of anticipation he read the note's contents.

The meeting of our first hunt. At dawn.

Your princess.

He couldn't help but smile at the words 'your Princess.' Such simple words warmed his heart. It was a request to meet in the woods by the cross roads, the location he had take her for her first hunting lesson. Folding the note carefully, Link tucked it back into his pocket. With determined steps, he left the inn behind and walked through the quiet streets, his thoughts consumed by the upcoming dawn and the secrete meeting that awaited in the woods as he made his way toward the castle.    

Chapter Text

Guests had started to arrive for the engagement ball, the air thick with anticipation and excitement. Nobles and dignitaries, dressed in their most opulent attire, mingled in the grand hall, their laughter and chatter weaving a lively tapestry of sound.

Outside the great hall, Ganondorf stood tall and imposing at the side entrance, a striking figure wrapped in a flowing black silk robe. Subtle patterns traced the collar and sleeves of his attire, the fabric draping him regally. Vibrant Gerudo designs were hidden within the robe's inner folds, a silent homage to his heritage. A fabric belt, cinched at his waist and fastened by a solid gold horseshoe ornament, added an extra layer of splendour. Loose tan trousers and golden sandals completed his ensemble, and concealed beneath it all, his mirror blade rested, a vigilant companion at his side.

Ganondorf's eyes gleamed possessively as he caught sight of Hilda gracefully descending the spiralling staircase. She was a vision in a sophisticated ball gown, its deep twilight purple sash proudly displaying the royal family's crest, an emblem of her lineage. The long, flowing white skirt, trimmed delicately in gold, swept the floor with each movement, covering her delicate slippers. Long, elegant gloves adorned her slender arms, adding an air of timeless refinement to her attire. Her golden hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose, radiant curls.

Unbeknownst to Hilda, the dress she now wore had once graced her mother upon her own engagement night. Yet, it was no accident that the gown, personally selected by Ganondorf, had been expertly tailored to Hilda's frame. This was more than a mere fashion choice; it was a deliberate statement of Ganondorf's triumph, a final, cutting taunt aimed directly at Zelda. It served as a stark reminder of his victory, his resilience and the formidable power he held.

As Hilda descended the last few steps, Ganondorf presented her with an outstretched arm, his eyes gleaming intensely. " Hilda... you are... as enchanting as the goddess herself." He praised admiringly.

"...Thank you," Hilda replied humbly, taking his arm. She took a deep breath as they paused outside the hall's entrance, gathering herself for the spotlight. Ganondorf offered her words of encouragement before they proceeded into the hall.

The grand hall fell into silence as Ganondorf and Hilda made their entrance, and the hall's occupants instinctively bowed before them. The couple gracefully took their designated seats at the royal table, with Knil, Hilda's loyal brother, at her side. Her mother's chair, however, remained conspicuously empty, a poignant reminder of her absence.

The great hall was filled with laughter and voices as the guest feasted and drank while enjoying the entertainers. The joyous music had seen a large dance circle form in the centre of the hall.

Ganondorf had kept Hilda engaged in conversation for most of the celebration, discussing gossip about the lords and ladies in attendance after they introduced themselves and presented their gifts to the engaged couple. Hilda giggled and gasped at the delicious rumours she had been let in on, as Ganondorf hid his laughter at her humorous opinions of them. 

He was in the midst of polishing off his eighth goblet of wine when a guard interrupted him.

“Could this not wait till after the celebrations.” He insisted to Gerudo guard who shook their head.

Ganondorf turned to Hilda, “Please excuse me, my lady, I shall return monumentally.” He informed raising for his seat.

She nodded and beamed “I wouldn’t leave for too long, my grace. Lord Sakon appears to be eyeing of your silverware.” She jested.

“Then I shall listen for any jingling before he leaves.” Ganondorf chuckled before making his way from the hall.

Knil watched Ganondorf leave, as the door closed behind him, he addressed Her, “Sister, I have a gift for you.”

“Why thank you, brother. What is it?” She questioned intrigued.

“You will see, but I need you to go to my chambers and wait while I get it ready. I need you to go straight their. Promise me you will be there; it is of the upmost importance you’re on time. Otherwise, the surprise will be ruined.” Knil requested. Extending his left pinkie finger.

“Of cause brother.” She responded seriously through her grin as she took his finger in hers.

"You won't take long will you? I don't want to leave my own celebration for to long." Hilda informed, glancing at the grand clock on the far wall as it ticked ever closer to eight pm.

"It will be quick, i promise." Knil guaranteed, taking her hand as he rose, pulling Hilda up with him. "Remember straight their, and don't dawdle." Knil reaffirmed.

"Yes, yes. I can't wait to see it." Hilda smiled excitedly.

Knil's eyes lingered on her before turning and making his way past the long tables to the main door of the great hall. Hilda exited through a side door before making her way towards Knil’s quarters. As she made her way down the hall a messenger approached her with a letter addressed from Ganondorf. She tore open his seal and read the short message.

My quarters. At the toll of eighth bell.

Ganondorf

She had never been in his chambers before and was intrigued by his mysterious request. it had been nearly eight when she left the hall. Perhaps if she was fast enough, she would only be a little late. How time critical could Knil's request be? She pondered as she raced up the staircase to Ganondorf's quarters at the top of the keep.

She raised her fist to knock before realising the door was slightly open. She cautiously pushed her way inside. It was filled with Gerudo styled furnishing, reflecting the warm soft colours of the desert. Golden banners hung from the walls, mysterious books and intricate items lined the wall opposite of his fireplace. The bells of the clock tower chimed as she proceeded into the room to investigate his fascinating collection.

Nabooru tensely paced by the fountain, watching Hilda’s bedroom window as dusk took over the sky. Knil appear at the window alone, nodding his head before disappearing once more.

Hilda had gone to Ganondorf quarters, Nabooru analysed. That had proven it, Ganondorf was guilty, the plan would go ahead. She sighed disappointedly; she took no pleasures from what was about to occur, but it had to be done, his abuse of power had to end.

Ganondorf strode into the courtyard, he stumbled down the steps grinning, his face flushed, “What is it Nabooru, that could be so important as to take me away from my own engagement celebrations?" He questioned, still in a state of euphoria. "Have you finally decided to congratulate me?”

Her expression remained empty.

Ganondorf smile faded, his head cocked to side as inquired, “Nabooru?”

Movement caught his left eye. Zelda had stepped out from behind the large oak, an arrow rested upon her relaxed bow. The sound of clanking, and sword being drawn altered him to Link approaching from his right. He had adorned a chest plate and steel shield buckler. Ganondorf filled with dread as he saw his reflection in the highly polished surfaces of Links new equipment.

“Nabooru, what have you done?” He questioned, a hint of panic rising in his voice.

She backed away from him. “I am sorry, brother...” She apologised.

A pained gasp escaped his lungs, “I trusted you!” He breathed. “I loved you as sister!” He confronted, distraught.

“Your obsession. Your power over this Vehvi ends now” Nabooru said coldly, resolute in her decision.

Ganondorf appealed, “Nabooru, I promise you, I never-”

“Then how is it she rejects your feelings to only come back three days later to accept your proposal! Then why, despite her brother’s dire request, does she await you within your chamber walls!” Nabooru reasoned despairingly as she took up her position in the final exit.

Link had stopped by Ganondorf’s right side, posed in a defensive posture. Ganondorf eyes flickered to Zelda, she had raised her bow but left it undrawn. Ganondorf looked pleading to Nabooru once again, her arms were crossed before her.

Link clanged his sword on his buckler, regaining Ganondorf’s attention. Ganondorf drew his blade in one hand and summoned a shield to protect his back against Zelda with the other. His magic would still be effective towards her, but at such a distance she would be able to duck back behind the oak for cover leaving him vulnerable to Links attacks.

His magic would be ineffective against Link, even dangerous to himself should it reflect back at himself. His source of power was useless, he was nothing more than any other weak man. Suddenly Ganondorf regretted never sparring with Link, he had never fought against a left-handed swordsman before. But he still had the advantage, he analysed. He had his physical strength, he was much taller and muscular then Link. Link would be at the mercy of the reach of his dual wielded blade, unable to block a powerful down stroke with only his buckler and one-handed sword alone. He assessed.

Ganondorf rose his blade, it hissed against Links as they met. They tapped each other’s swords, coaxing one another into making the first move. What is he waiting for? Ganondorf pondered. No doubt he had been waiting for this opportunity, yet why wouldn’t he make the first move?

It dawned upon him. They intended to wait him out. Drain him of his powers. He would have to turn Link’s back to Zelda so he could stop wasting his magic. He schemed. Then he could wield his blade in two hands and obliterate Link… then Nabooru. Perhaps he would make her watch as he slaughtered Pyra and Riju first, he thought wickedly. He would leave Zelda to rot alone in the darkest deepest dungeon he could find.

He knocked Link's sword to the side and feigned a lunge. Link swirled his sword around Ganondorf's, reclaiming it from below as he closed in. Ganondorf blocked his advance and pushed him back. Link deflected Ganondorf's blade with his buckler, freeing his own sword as he swiped it across Ganondorf's chest, slicing through the thin silk robe and drawing a thin line of blood.

Ganondorf groaned, feeling the sting of the wound. Link's sword was already returning to meet Ganondorf's blade as it aimed for his waist. Link intercepted it, flicking his sword at Ganondorf once more. Ganondorf stumbled backward, his many glasses of wine taking a toll on his speed and reaction time. He needed to keep Link at a distance; the speed of the smaller sword in such close proximity would overwhelm him.

Link pursued him, refusing to lose his advantageous position. Ganondorf discarded his shield and gripped his blade with both hands, bringing it down upon Link to force him back. Unable to block, Link darted backward.

An arrow whizzed past Ganondorf's shoulder. He swung his blade at Link once again, pushing him toward Zelda's position. Link effortlessly evaded, while another arrow sailed past Ganondorf as he ducked out of the way.

Link lunged again, Ganondorf sidestepped, simultaneously swinging his blade in one hand at Link and shielding himself from Zelda's incoming arrow with the other.

His eyes darted between Link and Zelda as he gripped his blade in both hands once more. Zelda released another arrow, this time aiming for his towering head. Ganondorf ducked, and Link closed in once again. Ganondorf's arms moved frantically to block the rapid strikes coming from Link as he hunched, keeping himself out of Zelda's line of sight.

Ganondorf swiped at Link's foot with his own, catching his leg and causing him to stumble out of reach. Taking advantage of the moment, Ganondorf circled further around Link's back. Zelda's arrow bounced off his magical barrier before he unleashed a blast of energy toward Link's unprotected head.

Link intercepted it just in time with the corner of his shield, deflecting the current, which ricocheted past the fountain.

"Mum!" Knil shouted as he ran across the opposite side of courtyard towards his mother. "Hildas Gon-" His words cut short as the blast collided with him.

Ganondorf's eyes widened as he watched the boy's limp, silent form hurtle across the grounds. Zelda's screams pierced the air.

In the corner of his eye, Link witnessed the surge of energy connect with his son. Seizing the moment, he forced his body weight behind his sword before running his distracted foe through.

Ganondorf groaned as he stumbled backward from the force. Link harshly twisted his sword, pulling it from Ganondorf's left abdomen, leaving a gruesome trail of blood in its wake. His gaze remained locked on Ganondorf, an unyielding resolve burning within his eyes.

An arrow thudded into Ganondorf's chest, piercing his right lung, forcing him back once more. A look of shock and disbelief flickered across Ganondorf's face as he fought to stay upright.

He gripped his sword tightly as a purple gateway opened in front of him. He staggered into it as Link dove through the closing portal, rolling out into the other world.

Chapter Text

Hilda had been fiddling with a pair of brass scales when the eighth bell stopped tolling. She had pulled out a fancy, gold laced leather-bound book titled ‘Secrets of the universe’. She flicked curiously through the pages before realising it was a book about astrogeology.
She returned it and selected a grey tattered book. She made out its title through its creased spine ‘Principles of topography’.

Was his interest in reading truly this dull? She pondered, flipping the book over.
The inside of the book slipped out from its cover, landing face down upon floor, a few of the pages separated from the binding upon the impact.

As she bent over to pick up a page, her hand froze over the crude sketch of a naked man and woman tangled together, the words ‘Queen of heaven’ written below the image. Her eyes darted to the other pages on the floor, they also displayed similar drawings and odd texts, ‘The broken flute’, ‘Lotus’, ‘Impalement’.

She hurriedly picked up the pages and shoved them back into the book retuning it to the shelf. He clearly didn’t want anyone to see those pictures, why else had he hidden them inside a fake cover about drawing maps? She pondered. She stared at the unassuming grey book once more.

Was that the physical expectations of marriage? It looked painful. She noted, recalling the twisted faces from the images.

She moved from the bookshelf, and sighed impatiently. Where is he? She paced the drawing room for another minute before deciding to check the hallway. She approached the door and pushed down on the handle. It didn’t move. She rattled it before pulling on the handle. The door was locked. Her stomach began to turn. She focused on the lock, trying to unlock it with her magic.

A shadow moved beneath the door as she listened to the mechanism clicking. She tried the handle again; it was still locked.

She wreathed at the handle with one hand and hammered the door with other. “Let me out!” She demanded. A clang emerging from the window caught her attention, then another clash. 

She strode to the closed window and peered through the iron bars to the scene at the fountain courtyard bellow. Link had just slashed Ganondorf across the chest. Ganondorf forced Link back as her mother’s arrow whistled past him.

“No! Stop!” She cried desperately, banging on the glass pane.

She hurriedly gazed around the room before drawing her blade, cutting through the air at ground level, her hand shook in front of her as she focused on holding the portal open. She had only started practicing yesterday to reach through and pick up objects from the other world. The portal slowly widened; she breathed deeply as she maintained its size. She hesitated at the opening before swallowing nervously and crawling through.

Knil had raced back to Ganondorf’s room after locking Hilda in, the tower floor was still empty. He heard his sister fiddling with the handle before purple light shone through the door’s cracks, he grasped the handle to stop it from moving.

She pounded on the door and yelled. Her footsteps slapped away from the door. She cried out fanatically.

She could it see. Knil analysed.

A purple glow emanated from under the door once more. It grew brighter and remained before slowly fading. He held his ear to the door. Silence.
He knocked gently on the door.

Nothing.

He banged louder.

Still nothing.

“Hilda?” He called.

She didn’t respond.

Had she been hurt in her attempts to escape? He wondered. He imagined her body sprawled across the ground before deciding to unlock the door with the key Nabooru had secured for him.

He cautiously entered, preparing to catch her should she jump out. He closed the door as he edged further into the room, scanning it attentively. She wasn’t in the drawing room anymore. He rushed to the sleeping chamber and flung open the door.

She had vanished.

Chapter Text

Ganondorf collapsed to the ground as he fell into Lorule. The arrow shaft embedded in his chest broke off at the impact.
He released his blade as he rolled over onto his back. He gasped desperately for air, his hands griping the broken shaft as he pulled it from his lung.

He tossed the shaft away before flooding his puncture with magic.
He gasped shallowly as his breath retuned. He held his hands over the large opening in his abdomen, his magic flickered as he tried to heal it.

A movement opposite him his caught his eye. Link had followed him through and was almost upon him.

His left arm stretches towards his sword, his fingers creeping through the dried grass before he feels the rounded pomel. As his fingers grasp the handle, it is kicked from his lose grip, sending it further from his reach.

His hand flung back to the gap in his middle, his magic faltered as his hand trembled over the wound as the last of his magic dissipated. Link smirked at the falter. He watched Link as he kicked the blade further away, it became reflective once more.

“Destroy it… and there will be no returning back.” Ganondorf warned through shaky breaths, his hands pressed firmly over the opening, trying to stop the bleeding.

Link looked back at Ganondorf’s pitiful from, a nasty smile spreading across his face. He rested the tip of his sword over the centre of mirror blade before ramming it through. The blade fractured into large shards.

Ganondorf heart sank at the sight of his most treasured possession in pieces. Link abandoned his buckler as he picked up a large shard in his gloved right hand. His savage eyes fixated on Ganondorf as he ambled towards him, his sword swirling tauntingly before him.

“You’ve waited... A long time for this” Ganondorf breathed.

“You have no idea.” Link responded callously standing over him, the point of his sword forcing Ganondorf’s hands from the wound. “Your life is now in my hands”. Link instructed bitterly, slowly forcing his bladed into the puncture once again, reopening what Ganondorf had managed to heal.

Ganondorf screamed and bent to the pain, clutching at the sword entering his body once again as it sliced through his palms. Link lent his body weight into the blade as he drove it through, pinning Ganondorf to the ground.

“And I will make you suffer every last second of it”. Link hissed.

“I wonder...” Ganondorf swallowed, “What would Zelda think… of your mercy? He choked.

“She would thank me. She has already given herself to me in gratitude of my sacrifice. But I will enjoy this-” Link hissed, twisting the blade side to side, bring forth more groans from Ganondorf. “-Much more.”

Link stepped on Ganondorf’s arms before coming to kneel on them. The arms struggled furtively under Links knees a he positioning himself over Ganondorf’s chest, his back touching the blade protruding from Ganondorf.
He forced Ganondorf’s face into the dirt as he traced the broken shared along Ganondorf’s face. Ganondorf eyed him malicious from the corner of his eye before Link pushed the blade into his skin, tearing a bloody line along Ganondorf face as he winced in pain.

Link forced Ganondorf’s face to the other side and cut another slit across his cheek. “Beg. Beg me to end it quickly.” Link demanded, stilling Ganondorf’s forehead, the mirror fragment hovering tantalising above Ganondorf’s left eye.

Blood trickled from Ganondorf’s mouth as he looked past the shard’s tip into Link’s darkened eyes.
He knew that look, that feeling. There would be nothing quick about his death.
“Don’t… insult me… with... your lies.” Ganondorf’s spluttered.

Link smirked as he tormentingly lowered the shard closer to Ganondorf’s eye.
Ganondorf struggled, Link forced his weight onto Ganondorf’s forehead with his right hand to still him. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you one… so you can watch”. Link snarled.

Ganondorf breathed uncontrollably, he clenched his teeth, his body tensed for what was to come.
His eye lids fluttering defensively as he watched the shard sink closer to his eye.

Chapter Text

Hilda clambered her way out of the tiny portal, coming to stand in the king’s chambers in Lorule. Everything inside the chamber had been destroyed, the wardrobe, shelving, lounges, everything had been shattered and blackened into tiny fragments. The debris formed a swirling pattern from the middle of the room as if a hurricane had formed at its centre. The stone walls were smothered in soot and deep horizontal gouges.

She pushed the state of the chamber from her mind as she ran through the doorless arch. The glass windows crunched under her shoes as she bolted through the hall and down the spiral staircase. She sped along the ground floor where her path ended at a locked set of heavy wooden doors. She slammed herself into them with frustration.

She was preparing to open another portal when a vivid purple glow flickered in from the narrow strips of windows lining the wall. Ganondorf had portaled through, she analysed. She had already failed at unlocking the doors with her powers, she couldn’t waste any more time trying to figure it out.

She recalled the other staircase Ganondorf had led her down when they visited the gardens. She raced back up the first set of stairs and along the hallway, before leaping down the staircase once more. She sprinted down the garden path lopping her way back around the to the other courtyard entrance.

She burst through the courtyard doors.

“STOP!” Echoed Hilda’s voice from across the courtyard as she closed the gap between them.

Link retracted the shard from above Ganondorf’s eye as he sat back on his knees, stunned. “Hilda! how did you-”

“What have you done!” Hilda cried taking in the sword protruding from Ganondorf’s middle and the blood smeared across his face and hands as she drew in closer.

“Don’t come any closer!” Link demanded, holding the shard to Ganondorf’s neck.

Hilda froze in her tracks.

“Once he is dead the connection will be severed, then you will be free.” Link informed.

“Do you honestly believe he has any strength left to be able to control me with if he had been!” Hilda beseeched.

Link looked down at Ganondorf, he had stopped struggling, he was grimacing in agony as he gawked hauntingly into Link. He hadn’t come this far just to let him go; he would take his vengeance regardless.
“You will forgive me in time.” Link remarked hastily, pulling his hand back before swinging it at Ganondorf’s exposed neck.

“NO!” Hilda screamed as she sent a sphere of lightening at Links chest, it knocked him back as it rebounded off his chest plate, the movement freeing Ganondorf’s right hand.

The ball of energy retuned to Hilda, crashing into her like a wave as she was thrown to the ground. Ganondorf shoved Link in the chest in an attempt to throw him off. Link grappled with Ganondorf’s weakened arm as he tucked it under his knee once again.

Hilda was shakingly raising to her hands and knees, she could still feel the electricity crackling through her, stunning her use of powers.

Ganondorf sore her sluggishly rise in the coroner of his eyes. “Magic… rebounds off… reflective surfaces." He laboured.

Hilda took note of his empathise as she eyed the bloody handprint smeared down Links chest. She would have to stall him while the static wore off, she derived.

Link looked at her in dismay, “You would kill your own father to save him?”

“You’re not my father! You’re a monster!” She shrieked, stumbling as she rose.

Link was taken aback. Both of his children had tried to kill him, he reflected. All because of this man straddled beneath him. If not for his existence, he would have had a peaceful, happy life with Zelda as his wife, with children who adored him not despised him. As an esteemed captain of the guard and king consort of Hyrule.
He looked back to Hilda; she was gazing desperately at Ganondorf’s fading form before meeting Links eyes once again.

“Please don’t do this. I know what he has done to you, but I am begging you please. Put the past aside. His sword is shattered, he cannot return, there is nothing more he can do to you.” Hilda pleaded.

Link observed her carefully. She had tears in her eyes. “You love him?” Link questioned with revulsion.

“No!” She reacted quickly before her eyes fell on Ganondorf. She went on uncertainly, “I... I don’t know.”

If he killed Ganondorf, she would never forgive him. Link analysed. If she didn’t kill him after, he would be trapped alone in this world with a daughter who loathed him. He would have to tell her.
“Hilda, he killed your brother” Link informed bluntly.

“What?” Hilda questioned in disbelief.

“I am… so sorry… Hilda… I never…intended it.” Ganondorf coughed. He turned his eyes on Link “It was meant… for you." He sneered.

Her ears buzzed as she processed. Her brother was dead? Ganondorf magic must have rebounded as hers did as he defended himself from the ambush. Links ambush. She could feel her anger burning in her fingers.
“This is your fault!” She barked, letting lose her magic upon the bloody print on Links chest.

Link was thrown back, his body pulling the sword from Ganondorf’s stomach as he slammed into the hard ground a few meters away, his body stiffened and trembled as the currents flowed through him.

Ganondorf gasped as the sword sliced him wider. Blood poured forth from the unblocked cavity.

Hilda rushed to his side her hands glowing in preparation to heal him. He weakly grabbed her hands, covering them in his blood. “You cannot… heal… a dying man.” He spluttered as blood spilt from his mouth, his hands slipped weakly from hers.

Hilda looked around desperately, before Links twitching form caught her eye. She pulled him closer with her magic before resting a hand on Links chest and one over Ganondorf’s puncture.
She drew out Links life-force into herself as she redirected it into Ganondorf. She watched as the wound slowly healed itself from the inside out.

Link still tensed from the currents radiating through his body watched through pleading eyes, as her vivid golden hair faded to indigo. Her ice blue eyes darkened to a shade of red. “Please… don’t." He managed to force from his lips. He could accept death but for his life to be used to resurrect Ganondorf was… unbearable. 

Hilda looked hatefully into his frantic fading eyes before pity overwhelmed her. She released him, he inhaled deeply.
She held both her hands over Ganondorf, sending her own life into him. He brushed feebly at her hands.

“No.” He choked.

Hilda grew weaker as her magic was consumed, the violet light dissipated from her hands completely. Her eyes flicked to wide gash still present in his stomach. “I am sorry." She cried, trembling as she sprawled across his chest.

She had given him not only life from her father, but her own. When all others had betrayed him, She had come for him, and even at his weakest she had given all that she could. For him. Ganondorf reflected.
He weakly swept her darkened hair from her face, “Hilda I…” He paused, before squinting and adverting his eyes from Hilda. “...Your tears… are blinding."

Hilda looked at him perplexed before wiping her eyes, bright white light emanated from the tears on her hand.

“Light… Magic.” Ganondorf remarked, amazed at her ongoing feats as they gazed at the glowing tear.

She bolted upright, her hands clasped over Ganondorf’s stomach.

“Don’t!” Ganondorf ordered in alarm as her light magic coursed into him.

Hilda anxiously watched as her light magic rapidly close the remaining puncture while Ganondorf thrashed in agony. Her life wasn’t draining; this magic didn’t require an exchange! She celebrated.

Ganondorf managed to grab her hands. “Stop! You’re- destroying me!” He pleaded in anguish.

Her magic receded as she searched his face; colour had returned to his bleeding, sliced cheeks; he was breathing almost normally. She pulled back her hands and ripped open his torn shirt. The puncture was almost sealed, the bleeding had almost stopped. He was no longer dying. She tore the sash from her dress and shoved it into the shallow wound.

Ganondorf whimpered from the pressure. He noticed his own calmed breaths; she had saved him. He was still in immense pain, but was alive, because of her. He gazed into her face as she fused over him. Light magic was a pure source, one that gave, one strengthened by love. He reflected. She loved him. She just wasn’t ready to admit it. Why else would she had she done as she did? He thought that Hilda belonged to him, but now he could see, he was hers.
“My life... belongs to you.” Ganondorf enlightened, placing his hands over hers.

“You don't say.” She remarked earnestly. His hands were freezing, she needed to get him inside. “Come on, can you stand?” She asked rising to her feet, pulling at his arm.

He groaned as he rolled onto his side. Trembling he rose to his feet with Hilda’s aid. He hunched over her, allowing her to take some of his weight as they shambled to the nearest archway. He smiled weakly as he proceeded “-As does my heart. Marry me.” He persuaded.

Clearly the blood loss was getting to him, she analysed. He was really heavy.“

I have already… accepted your proposal.” She grunted with effort to support him.

“I owe the very air I breath, to you. I could not fathom a life... in which you would not return to me. Restoring my life would be in vain... as how am I to go on living... without you by my side. I belong to you. I need you. I... Love you.” Ganondorf beseeched through pained breaths. “Marry me, tonight."

“Who would… Marry us?” She entertained his delirium as she heaved him up the few stairs leading from the courtyard into the hall.

“As a king… I could-" He insisted wearily as they stumbled into the hallway.

“Ok… just get inside first.” Hilda remarked as Ganondorf stopped, his body weighed down upon her, crushing her. She looked up at his face, his eyes had gone blank.

She freed herself from his heavy arms, diving out from under him as he collapsed to the stone floor.

Chapter Text

Zelda watched her arrow strike its mark before dropping her bow and rushing to her fallen son. “Knil! Please Knil wake up!” She called frantically, shaking his life less corpse.

Nabooru watched as Ganondorf, and Link disappeared through the portal before rushing to Zelda’s side. Zelda was becoming more distraught at her son’s lack of response. “Knil, baby please, wake up!” She pleaded through tears, tapping his face as his eyes stared blankly off into the distance.

Nabooru lowered her head to his chest. “His heart as stopped. Move!” She instructed before rising her clenched fists above her head and slamming them into the centre of his chest, his body rocked from the force.

"What are you doing! You’re hurting him!” Zelda cried grabbing Nabooru as she prepared for another strike.

“Where he is, he feels no pain.” Nabooru instructed pulling her hands away from Zelda, before striking him again.

Zelda’s lips trembled as she took in Nabooru’s words. She grasped her sons face and stroked his head comfortingly, as his body continued to rock to each pound of Nabooru’s fists. “Why did you come down here. I told you not to come down here. You were supposed to stay with your sister.” Zelda wept; tears pattered against Knil’s face.

His chest constricted as it rasped in air before falling still once again.

“Keep going!” Zelda implored urgently to Nabooru who resumed pounding his chest.

He gasped again; this time shaky, uneven breaths followed.

Zelda started intently at him “Come on baby, breath. Just breath.” She encouraged through red eyes, clutching his shoulder.

They converted into shallow, rapid breaths when his eyelids twitched.

“Keep going baby, keep breathing.” Zelda instructed hopefully, her tears subsiding.

His breath began to steady, his weary eyes meeting his mother’s as he fought against them flickering shut.

“Come on let’s get him inside.” Nabooru instructed, placing her hand under his limp arms with Zelda copying suit. They heaved him up, supporting him between their shoulders as they dragged him across the courtyard.

Link watched paralysed from the ground as Hilda and Ganondorf stumbled across the courtyard. His eyes drifted to the mirror shard as it regained its reflection upon their departure. He could see the last light of day fading across the clear sky. But it was not the sky above him, it had already been darken by cloud cover. It was the reflection of Hyrule’s sky. He gazed longingly at the sky of his lost home.

Zelda! He startled, and Knil? He questioned as he watched Zelda and Nabooru carry Knil slung over their shoulders past his spot in the other world.

Knil had blinked! Link analysed; he was still alive! They vanished from the reflection before Link was shortly overcome by the fog of nothingness.

Zelda and Nabooru laid Knil upon his bed in the guest chambers, he stirred slightly, “Hilda’s... Gone.” He mumbled through shut eyes.

Zelda and Nabooru traded worried glances. Nabooru took the keys from Knil’s coat pocket before rushing from the room. Zelda hovered over him removing his excess clothing. Upon removing his tie, she discovered lightning shaped burns etched along his neck.
She pulled off his shirt revealing bright red, sprawling vine like marks from the side of his left chest where the ball of lighting had struck him.

Pyra rushed into the room carrying a leather satchel of medical supplies along with her daughter, Riju. Pyra examined Knil while requesting items from Riju.

“She’s gone...” Nabooru remarked disheartened, emerging into the room one more.

“What! Where is she?” Zelda questioned.

“There was... another smaller blade. It is absent from Ganondorf’s safe. I am… sorry.”

“What are you saying."

“She’s... in the other world."

Chapter Text

A soft breeze blowing across Ganondorf bare chest stirred him from his sleep. His eyes slowly fluttered open to the morning light filtering in through the windows. He pulled up the fur blanket and groaned, becoming aware of sharp pain in his abdomen as a purple figure next to him bolts up right.
He turns his head across the pillow at the movement and blinks the fog from his eyes as a concerned Hilda comes into view. He stares up at her in bewilderment.

“What are you… doing… in my bed” He asks groggily before noticing he was not in his chamber bed at all, but upon the floor of the courtyard corridor, pillows and blankets strewn around himself and Hilda.

“Do you not remember?” Hilda questioned softly.

Ganondorf focused on his latest memories, but they are distant and clouded, the difference between reality and fantasy twisted.

“You were ambushed.” Hilda informed.

Memories of his battle flash past his eyes as they built a distorted pathway of the events. The pain of the blade piercing his stomach, Link restraining him.
“Link! Where is he!” Ganondorf questioned in alarm, trying to sit up before falling back in pain.

“His gone. He left late last night.” Hilda calmed.

More memories flooded his mind, Hilda’s hair fading purple, she had given him life, some of her own and of her fathers.
“You saved me. You gave me life.” Ganondorf announced.

“Stay still” Hilda ordered.

Ganondorf observed her delicately as he allowed her to expose his bare torso from under the blanket.

“I haven’t been able to fully heal you. Giving you some of my life-force has left me drained. But… Maybe now.” Hilda addressed, revealing the small puncture from the makeshift bandages over his abdomen before gently laying her gleaming purple hands over it.

Slowly it closed, leaving behind a large tight scar. “That’s as good as its going to get.” She informed, dabbing at the remaining blood that had settled overnight on his stomach with a damp cloth before meeting his eyes. He was staring intently at her. She glanced away, pulling the blanket back over his chest, her eyes subtly scanning over his golden hooped piercing protruding from his nipples as they were hidden from view.
“Now… your cheeks.” She gently placed her hands on either side of his face, her magic warmed him as they locked eyes.

She looked matured, he analysed. How many years had she given him? She looked as if she was in her mid-twenties now, he speculated. He placed one hand on top of hers, holding her hand to his face. “Thank you” He expressed gratefully.

“You’re welcome.” Hilda remarked, addressing the shallow slash across his chest before taking up his hands, healing the large gashes in them. Her hands slipped gradually from his before enquiring, “Do you recall anything else from yesterday?”

Ganondorf sat up, the blanket falling to his lap, exposing his chest once more, before responding hesitantly, “I am not sure… everything is blurry after that.”

She grinned filling him a goblet of water she had collect in a bucket from the well, “So, you don’t recall saying that your heart belonged to me, and that you couldn’t live without me and that-”

Ganondorf cringed as he recalled, “Ah… yes… I do recall that. I thought that perhaps… I had rather hoped that I had only dreamt it."

Silence fell between them, before Hilda spoke up. “You wouldn’t stop saying my name all night as you dreamt.”

Ganondorf adverted his eyes as he took a sip.

“Is that how I haunt them? Because I am always in them?” Hilda speculated, “What is it that I do in these dreams?”

Ganondorf swallowed his water faster, his face reddening.

“Do I... touch you in these dreams?” She asked curiously grinning at his discomfort.

Water spluttered down Ganondorf chest as he choked on the water, taken surprise by her audacity.

“I do!” She confirmed amused. “And that is what you meant when you said you burnt for me. You desire me.”

“I… do not wish to discuss this.” Ganondorf coughed.

“Why?” She pushed, smirking.

“Because you only do so to jest.” He remarked icily.

“Do I?” She questioned smirking, reached out her hand, tracing it down his broad upper arm.

He breathed unsteadily at her touch as his eyes slipped close. He had longed for her touch, longed to touch her. To feel her against him.

“Don’t.” He breathed as he came back to his senses, his eyes fluttering back open.

“Why? Is this not what you have dreamt off?” She questioned condescendingly, withdrawing her hand.

“Because I am fatigued and what you stir, burns to take you.” He snapped.

“And what is it, that I stir?” She enquired intrigued.

His eyes narrowed upon her, “...Never you mind.”

She exhaled, “How can you expect me to become your wife, if I do not know what it is that husband and wife do?”

“Then you still wish to marry?” Ganondorf beamed.

“Not if don’t know what’s expected of me.”

“The same you would expect of me.” Ganondorf took her hand. “Devotion, collaboration, honesty ...love.” He informed sincerely.

“But there is more to marriage, isn’t there? Something intimate… physical?” She enquired holding his gaze for an answer.

Ganondorf brushed his fingers through his hair frustratedly. “Yes, there is an… act between husband and wife. This is… something your mother should have enlightened you to.”

“Would you like me to go back and ask her?” She dug, rising from the nest of cushions.

“Of cause not.” He stumbled as he rose with her, still tangled in the fur blankets.

“Then you will have to enlighten me?” She insisted.

Ganondorf groaned hesitantly as he thought of a delicate way to describe it.

Hilda sighed irritated at his prolonged pause before turning away.

“Wait!” Ganondorf called, stepping towards her “It is… difficult for me to explain.”

“Is it that dreadful that words elude you?” Hilda questioned troubled.

“No, it is… a wonderful. Beautiful. Pleasurable event.” Ganondorf instilled.

Her head pivoted intriguingly to the side.

He held her gaze as he closed the gap between them. “It is vulnerability and connection at the same time. Greed and generosity. Fulfilment and desire.” He paused in front of her.

“What… sort of pleasurable things?” She enquired innocently.

“Unspeakable thing.” He pushed closer to her, holding her in his seductive glare, she held his gaze attentively as she slowly stepped back. “Things that would make your toes curl as your body trembled. Pure bliss you that would bend you to my will. I would bring forth screams of intense pleasure that you could not contain.” He boasted.
He spayed his hands upon the wall above her head as she backed into it.

She stared boldly up into his eyes, as he stared lustfully down into hers.
“And how is it, my Lord, that you have come to know the pleasures a woman’s body is capable of?” She remarked cynically.

He exhaled awkwardly. Fuck, he regretted internally.

She shook her head in disgust and pushed him away.

He moved freely with her guidance. He turned from her tossing his head back in frustration.

“You prosecuted my mother for the very same thing that you have done yourself” Hilda accused.

“It is different” Ganondorf contended, turning back to her.

“How!” Hilda demanded.

“Because I ceased when you accepted my proposal! Because I sent them away!” He defended.

“Them?” Hilda confirmed stunned. “How many of them, were their?”

Ganondorf stared vacantly at her, in disbelief of what he had just revealed.

“Two?” Hilda questioned eyeing him coldly.

He looked away shamefully.

“Four?” she pushed bitterly.

He still didn’t meet her eye.

She huffed in disgrace, turning from him, before once again spinning back. “How many!” She demanded crossly.

He warily met her gaze but did not respond.

She pulled out her blade and cut open a portal, “I will leave right now, if you do not speak.” She challenged.

Ganondorf sighed defeatedly, “...Forty-six” He admitted, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

Hilda’s mouth fell open in a mixture of disgust and shock as the portal vanished.

“I did not think... I would ever want to marry after your mother-" He paused. "I never loved them. It was nothing more than a transaction. But you. You are indescribable perfection, one with power that proceeds my own. We are destined for each other.” Ganondorf petitioned reaching towards her.

Hilda slapped away his hand and cut open another portal, Ganondorf grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me! She rounded.

“I will not let you leave while you’re infuriated me.” He insisted.

“And how will you stop me?” She challenged. Her arm glowing with light magic.

He groaned as it burnt his hand before reluctantly releasing her and stepping back. He sighed frustratedly as she moved towards her tiny portal. His magic had still not returned after the damage her light magic had inflicted upon on him whilst trying to heal him. She was wholly capable of overpowering or even destroying him with her light magic if she so chose to, he analysed. He could not physically stop her.
“Please. Stay.” He implored.

She looked back at him.

“Please. What must I do for you to stay?” He implored sincerely.

She turned back to him. “Beg me.” She stated coldly.

He paused as he considered. She could be his last connection to magic, his last magical artefact. He could not lose her as he did his mirror blade. Hesitantly he requested “I beg of you to stay-”

“Properly! On your knees.” She demanded.

He lowered his head and sank to one knee, committing to her request, “Please. I beg you. Stay… with me. Please." He paused before adding "...My queen." He raised his eyes to hers; she was watching him keenly.
He bowed deeper, his eyes upon her feet as he offered his hand to her. “Please, forgive me. I beg of your mercy, your majesty.” He beseeched desperately.

The purple glow of the portal disappeared, yet she stood before him.

He breathed out in relief. He retracted his hand from the air and looked up, she shoved his head back down. He had caught a glimpse of her smile. She enjoyed seeing him submit to her, he smirked.

She traced a sharp nail along his exposed back, goose bumps rose at the touch… among other things. She listened to his intense breath as she circled around him. “Swear to me your loyalty.” She commanded.

“I pledge myself to you, and you alone, my Queen.” He slyly rotated his head to view her reaction.

She noticed his movement and drove his head back down again, he grunted at her force, his smirk widening.

“Promise me, that you will worship and obey me." She continued, circling him.

“My goddess, I will follow all of your commands.” He ensued fervently.

She stopped and stood in front of him. “Vow that you will adore me, and me alone.” She commanded.

“I vow to love and cherish only you, forsaking all others… until parted by death.” Ganondorf conveyed intensely. Her silky hand glided across his jaw; he closed his eyes to her touch.

“Rise.” She instructed, keeping her hand upon his face as he rose, hunched before her. She moved in close, her breast pressing against his slumped torso. He moved his face towards hers, she held him fast by the chin stopping his advance. “Do you still burn for me?” She whispered enticingly, her lips tantalised his out of reach.

“More than ever.” He growled softly, his breaths shallow and desperate.

She leaned close to his ear “...Then stay.” She whispered ruthlessly as she pulled away from him.

His wide eyes stared stunned after her as she glared warningly while backing away.

He narrowed his eyes upon her as he took a cautious step forward.

“I said stay.” She commanded, a tiny hint of smile turning her lips.

She was faltering, she wanted him to pursuer her, Ganondorf reviewed. “I cannot.” He informed smirking, slowly continuing his approach, regaining his intimidating posture once again as she swaggered towards her.

“You disobey me already?” She questioned; her serious tone broken by her widening grin.

“Your taunts have awoken my inner beast” He snarled yearningly; she matched her retreat with his advance.

“And I cannot control the retribution it seeks any longer!” He asserted, confining her between himself and the stone wall once again as he took up her hand and held it above his rapidly beating heart. His other hand splayed upon the wall above her shoulder.

She looked up at him rebelliously as he went on, “It wants to consume you, claim you.” He breathed, perched above her left ear before lightly brushing the side of her neck with his lips as he loomed over her. She breathed shallowly, her fingers digging into his muscular pec as she tensed, her confident pretence overtaken with nervousness.

“Touch me.” He whispered yearningly in her ear as he invited her hand over his smooth, solid chest. The hard golden hooped piercing in each of his pointed nipples caught her hand. He caressed her hand as she observed his odd jewellery.

“Touch where ever you like. Whatever gives you… a feeling. Excites you. Then explore it further.” He instructed.

She looked up meekly at him, as he stared encouragingly back down at her. She looked back at his chest as he traced his fingers along her arm. She kept her hand upon his chest while gazing down at his rippling abdomen before sliding her hand to his stomach, her nimble fingers etching the gaps between his firm muscles.

He slipped his hand onto her waist, exploring her curves before leisurely caressing his hand up her side. His palm brushing against the side of her breast, she shuddered in response.
She crept her hand upon his upper arm, clasping at his tensed biceps.
He made his way up to her shoulder and across her collar bone before tentatively trailing down over her small perky bosom onto her stomach as he observed her reaction.
She sighed excitedly as waves rush through her.
He slipped his hand back up and cupped her breast, she gasped at his light squeeze, gazing at him in wonder, he smiled wickedly. He groped her slightly firmer; she huffed again as her nipples buzzed and stiffened in delight.
Her stomach fluttered in anticipation as tension formed between her legs.

He glided his hand up to her neck, brushing the bridge of his hooked nose against her cheek before meeting her lips.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders in response to the ripples rushing over her as her eyes slipped shut.
His lips briefly parted hers before embracing once again, longer, and firmer this time.
He left her lips and moved down her neck, trailing kisses as he moved down her collar bone to the top of her cleavage. He sucked the top of her exposed breast peaking from the collar of her dress, she moaned lightly, an urge tingling in her lower stomach. He smiled at her response as he released her from his mouth.

His hand flowed down her stomach as he came to one knee. He stroked her hip, down her outer thigh to her calf before sneaking his hand under her dress, tracing up her inner leg.
She sighed again, her body tensing as he came closer between her legs.
He caressed her ridge from over her undergarments before drifting his fingers amongst her.
She gasped in surprise as his touch ignited her. She clutched his upper arm, staring in disbelief at him at what she had felt, her mouth slightly open.

“What did you feel?” He questioned smirking, raising his hand back up her stomach, pausing at the entrance to her under garments.

She breathed. “Something… different…. electrifying.”

“Did you like that feeling?” He teased.

She bit her lip nervously, before nodding once.

“Good. Because that is just the beginning of what you will feel. It will develop, build inside of you to such, intensity that you will reach a pinnacle. Then on the other side, you will find your release of exceptional pleasure.” He seduced.

She held onto him as he gradually slipped his hand under her garments, caressing her delicate skin before between delving between her again. She sighed and gasped at his touch, griping anxiously onto his upper arms.

He slicked his fingers with her excitement before tenderly massaging her, bringing forth sighs and heavy breaths from her. His other hand worked to free her of her dress.
She subtly splayed her legs allowing him more access.

He had her now, he observed, and he would make her vow to him as she had done before allowing her to indulge in the rapture, he would bring forth from her.
He removed his fingers and slipped her dress over her head.
She yelped in surprise as she was swept off her feet as he came to a stand.

He brought her to the makeshift bed, keeping her in his arms as he came to sit sideways along her. He pulled off her cloth bandeau, revealing her humble breasts, cupping them in his hands, before shortly taking her hardened nipple in to his mouth.
She moaned as she wrapped her hands around his head, holding him close.
He lowered her into the pillows, before taking up her other nipple and dragging off her undergarments. He brought his fingers upon her once again as he kissed her ribcage while watching her face contort to his movements.
She rose to him, sighing as she crept closer.

He laid beside her, propping himself up one his elbow as he whispered in her ear. “Now you will vow yourself to me.” He instructed, tauntingly.

Her eyes fluttered open as she turned to look at him before clenching shut again as she arched her back. She relaxed as he receded his pace on her.

“Promise, you will always return to me.” He ordered, building her momentum again.

She panted as he brought her close before slowing once again.

“I will not give it to you until you comply.” He teased, coming to a stop.

She glowered at him in desperation.

“Say it.” He ordered sharply, rolling his finger around her pulsation.

“I will… always return… to you." She swallowed.

She sighed in relief as he returned his fingers to her before shortly traveling further along her. She gasped and tensed as she felt his finger submerge into her. She gazed at him in shock. How could she feel him inside her? How was that even possible?
Her breath trembled as he tickled something deep within her, the pressure in her stomach and between her legs growing.

Ganondorf was smiling smugly at her reaction as he introduced her to the world of pleasures that had been withheld from her knowledge. Unburdening her of her innocence's. Her virtue. He shifted uncomfortable as the constraints of his breeches became unbearable at the thought.
He slipped from her and returned to her hood once again.
“Swear to be mine, and mine alone.” He demanded.

She squirmed and moaned before he dropped her from the edge once more.
“I will be yours.” She said in desperation before he restarted her.

He delved into her again, widening her with two fingers.
“Tell me you love me.” He requested, stroking her from the inside as she compressed his fingers. He retreated to her engorgement, teasing her once more.

She weaved her body and moaned as he brought her closer. “I…I.” She trembled.
She gasped and arched as she exhaled shallow breaths from her widen mouth.

He couldn’t stop now, he reflected, he had kept her to close to edge and she had crossed over it. He maintained her as she rose and fell around his finger, her moans intensifying as she clutched at the scattered pillows.
Her tensed body softened as she caught her breath, he removed his hand from between her, resting it upon her heaving stomaching.

She blinked in astonishment at him as he smirked at her.
He slipped his arm under her head and brought her against his chest, embracing her.
“Did I disappoint you?” He grinned, stroking her violet hair.

“That was… incredible.” She puffed.

“That was only the tip of the iceberg. There is more pleasure yet to be discovered.” He advised.

“There’s more!” She asked astounded, pulling back from him to see his face.

“Oh yes. That was only an… introductory. That next part is... what husband and wife do… to make a child. And-” He grinned, rolling her onto her back before clambering on top of her, positioning his clothed pelvis between her legs. “You are yet to declare your love for me.” He insisted, claiming her neck and chest once again.

Her hands found their way along the back of his broad shoulders.

“Now.” He whispered, “Touch yourself as I did."

She blushed, “I… cannot." She smiled embarrassedly at him.

He faintly smirked as he took her hand and slipped it in between her legs. Her fingers crept to where he had sparked her. She tensed at her own touch, he grinned before kissing her passionately, lowering himself closer between her legs.

She broke away from him to breath, he rolled his pelvis against her movements, she pushed her hips into him.
“I need you… closer” she moaned, her free hand pulling against his back.

He leant in close taking her lips delicately before rising to his knees to stand.

She paused, sitting up to watch him, confused as to why he had done the opposite of her request. She watched as he unbuttoned his pants before sliding them off, exposing his full form. Her mouth fell open as she took in the sight. She had seen a man’s… intimates before. Her brothers by accident when she had stumbled upon him changing in their one room cottage or on paintings and sculptures, but they had always been small and wilted in comparison.

He knelt back between her legs, “Keep going,” he instructed, placing her hand back, while guiding her body back down into the pillows.

She watched him carefully as she resumed. He slipped his fingers into her once again as she touched herself beneath him.

He was aware that his 'size' was more than proportional to his stature of seven and half feet. It had taken a few attempts before the courtesans could accommodate his full length. Hilda was slightly more than five foot tall, by far the smallest he had been with. He would have to be careful as to not alarm her or injure her. He analysed.

He helped draw her close again, ensuring she was ready for him before pausing her hand. She looked pleading at him. He removed her hand completely before lowing himself to her once again, gliding himself upon her slicked surface, stimulating her arousal with his own.

Would she be with child now that they had ‘touched’, she pondered, as she sighed at his movements as he rubbed against her, her hips rising from bed.

“This may… hurt for a moment.” He advised delicately, positioning himself before her entrance.

She gazed nervously at him. What more was there to come? She wondered.

She gasped and tensed as he slowly pushed his way into her, her body withdrawing from his.
He paused at her tension, allowing her to relax and breath.
Her eyes stared at him in utter disbelief. He was in her. A part of her. It was so… intimate… close… and… a little painful. He said it would hurt for a moment, but how long was moment? She wondered, her breath laboured as she breathed through the discomfort.

He tenderly kissed her neck, almost apologetic like, seeking to reassure her, to ease her transition as he remained still in her. Her breath began to calm, he proceeded a little further into her, before being met with her tensed body once more before halting.

When would it get better? This was not pleasurable experience he had promised her, she analysed. Her toes were curled but not from enjoyment. How long would he have to stay in her? How would she know when it was over?

Sensing her hesitation and discomfort, he whispered encouraging to her. “I promise it gets better. The first time can be… uncomfortable. But endure and it will be worth it. I promise."

She replied with shaky breath “Ok… I trust you”. She focused on her breathing, her body calming once more, he gently pulled back from her before lightly swaying into her. She groaned in discomfort, her nails digging into his arm as he maintained his gentle movements.

Slowly her nails began to recede as she grew accustomed to what little of him he had allowed her.

Leisurely, her breath began to return as she accepted him, his soft glides becoming enjoyable as his body shifted into hers. He edged in a little further, increasing his rhythm. Hilda’s hands climbed their way up his arms to his shoulder. He hunched over her as he brought his face beside hers, his breath panting beside her ear as he nuzzled into her neck. He was almost halfway inside her as she rocked to his movements encouraging him to increase his efforts.

He delved in a little deeper when she clinched down upon him, he gasped as he halted his rhythm.
Hilda continued to grind beneath him as he tensed before she came to a stop.

“Are you ok. Does it hurt you to?” She questioned innocently.

“No.” He ensured her instantly, “It feels… too good.” He confessed. She almost brought about his downfall, he reflected. It had been days since he’d fucked. Her little ‘display’ of power over him had driven him wild. And the fact that he was ‘relieving’ her of her virtue only excelled his excitement.
He caught his breath, waiting for himself to back down from the edge.

Hilda’s fingers were curious inspecting his piercings, he sighed deeply as his nipples tingled from her touch.

“Do they hurt?” She enquired, observing his reaction.

“No.” He smiled wickedly.

She grinned, manipulating the hoops in her fingers.

He moaned, his head caving to the pleasure.

Hilda sniggered, her other hand meeting his other nipple, she pulled lightly on the rings.

“Fuck…” He cursed, arching his neck, his breath shuddered as she maintained her assault.

Her light laughter tensing and relaxing deep within her, squeezing and massaging him to the edge once more.

“Stop.” He growled, her fingers pausing their exploration.

“I thought you liked it?” She questioned, watching as he sighed deeply.

“I do, very much so. But… I am too close my end,” He warned.

“I want to see it.” She requested curiously, renewing her fiddling.

He gently grasped her hand, lowering it from his chest. “And you will. But not before you find yours”. He notified, slowly rekindling his movements once more. His eyes lingered in awe of her, “You are ...Perfection." He admired.

She smiled modestly in return as she met his rhythm once more.

She moaned lightly in his ear as their body’s swiftness worked harmoniously together. He decided against pushing on any deeper, she had wound him too tightly.

He was breathing heavily now with effort of rolling into her. Her nails had found their way into his flesh once more as she held him close. Her hips rising and falling with his, her head falling back into the pillows.

Her rhythm faltered and he pushed deeper into her, she constricted against him, he grunted with restraint, before recognising it was too late to hold back. He ploughed into her as she gripped him tighter. Her tension preventing any deeper access.

His new tempo brining her to moans and gasps as she frantically tried to match his chaotic rhythm.

He grumbled as he surged into her with each harsh jolt.

“Don’t stop.” Hilda whimpered, her body encouraging him to continue.

“I have to.” He admitted, looming defeatedly over her as his chest heaved.

Hilda’s movement ceased, her eye’s needlingly searching his.
He stayed in her, motionless for a short time. Not wanting to leave her, to break the connection between them that made them one. If only he had his magic, he could use it rejuvenate himself, he lamented. Bring her the bliss he so desperately wanted her to experience with him, the pleasure he was capable of giving her.
Their eyes lingered on each other, Ganondorf kissed her tenderly, before slipping from her.

Hilda sat up in alarm as she felt fluid pore out of her at his departure. She looked between her legs as the cloudy substance endured to leak from her. She glanced at Ganondorf, his form had fallen, he was also dripping in the mysterious liquid.

He was observing her as she examined his remnants.
“That is… my seed.” He informed. “It seems you... excite me considerably.” He admitted, crawling over her leg to lie beside her.

“Is that why you stopped? You felt as it did?”

“Yes...” He conceded shamefully.

“And this,” she felt the white ooze between her fingers “Is this what makes a child?” She questioned.

He nodded. “You are mine now, as am I yours. Only my wife. My queen, will carry my child.” He informed taking her hands.

“How will I know that I am with child?”

“You will miss your next few courses.” He advised.

She stared blankly at him.

“Your… monthly bleed.” He clarified.

“My what?” She asked bewildered.

“You have… bled… from between your legs, haven’t you?” He asked in disbelief.

Her baffled expression confirmed otherwise. His face dropped. She’s barren, he panicked.

“What is it?” She questioned in response to his alarm.

“Nothing.” He lied. She didn’t need to know of her defect, not when his magic could fix her once it returned. If it returned.

“Cleary it is something, why should I bleed? Should I influence your honesty once more?” She pursued.

He frowned at her. That explained why his tongue had slipped earlier, he pondered. Her discovery of light magic had granted her the ability to reveal truths. His own magical abilities would have detected and prevented her using it if he currently had them.
“Fine... It is... Unusual for a woman of your age not to have bled. And it is even rarer for one to bare a child.”

“So... I… can’t have children?” She asked crestfallen.

“With magic, yes. It will just require... An exchange.” He suggested.

“No. I will not do it again. I have already been cursed with this... reminder of it’s evil.” She gestured to her purple hair and red eyes.

“This... change was not brought about by an evil deed.” He remarked kindly, fingering her hair. “But of love and the sacrifice you would make for it.”

She turned away from him, her hair slipping through his fingers. “You said it was unusually for my age, but what if I just need more time? What if the years of malnutrition and illness halted my development? I know that it has affected my height, I mean Knil, and mother are tall, so why wouldn’t that be affected too?”

“And if it is not? How long will you wait to find out?”

“I don’t know, a year I guess."

“And then? If nothing?”

“I am not sure. I guess I will decide in a years’ time if it comes to it.”

He could not wait that long. Especially not for an indefinite answer. He was almost forty-six, his own fertility was becoming questionable let alone the fact that she could very well disappear through that portal and never return. She may not ‘agree’ with the exchange required, but if she didn’t not know of its occurrence, then she would be none the wiser when her course begins. She would give him his heir, even if it cost another their own.
“Very well, at your request.” He accepted.
“Now, I believe I have robbed you of your completion,” he redirected, stroking his hand down her hips once more.

She smiled invitingly as she lowered back into the nest.

He had made sure that she had finished vowing herself to him before he let her finish. In his eyes, they were united as husband and wife as much as their current situation would allow.

Following their consummation, Hilda had portaled a window into Hyrule in order to retrieve supplies. She was cautious as she took food from the kitchens, she had no desire to be spotted. Without Knil, she had no reason to stay in Hyrule, not after what her mother had done and not now that her appearance reflected the forbidden magic she had used.

She gathered clothing and a few of her own and Ganondorf’s possessions that he had requested. Among them had been two wedding bands to which they later exchanged that day in the gardens by the field of silent princesses.

Her second night in Lorule castle was significantly better than the first. The previous night she had wept for her brother while Ganondorf laid unconscious after his near-death encounter. Tonight, they had settled in her counterpart room as the kings’ quarters that she had appeared in had laid in ruin. Ganondorf seemed to evade answering what had taken place in that room.

The bed groaned under Ganondorf’s weight as he settled in beside Hilda, embracing her in the dark. He kept his knees bent so his legs would not hang off the edge of the bed. He stroked her violet hair as he held her close, whispering sweet nothingness in her ear. His current affection towards her was a welcome distraction to her grief as she pondered the beginning of her new life and family in Lorule.

Chapter Text

Hilda’s chest rose softly as she fell asleep in his arms. Ganondorf’s mind drifted from her to the ambush, to his sister’s betrayal. She would have inherited his throne, his kingdom. She had probably thought him dead, that she was safe from his retaliation. But he would show her otherwise.

He pulled his arm from under Hilda and rose from the bed, she stirred slightly but drifted back to sleep. He stood over, his hand resting on her shoulder as her power drained into him. He gathered her mirror dagger and silently crept from the room into the darkness beyond.

Purple lighting flashed through the stormy sky surrounding Hyrule castle before submerging into the darkness of night once more. Rain pelted around her as the wind howled and thunder boomed.A dark figure emerged in the flash of lighting before disappearing into the night. With each clash it crept closer.

Pyra and Riju were running towards her, the figure closing in on them.
Fire erupted over Hyrule castle, the rain turning to blood as Ganondorf’s wicked grin came into view.

A purple flash and Pyra and Riju laid massacred on the ground in front of her, their body’s mangled, blood polling around them as their vacant eyes started up at her.
The clap of thunder was replaced by his echoing whisper, “...I am coming."
He laughed manically, but no sound escaped his mouth. His blade dripped in their blood as he rose it above her.

Nabooru’s eyes flung open as she sprung up, a purple light flittered out from over her. Pyra rose startled at her companion's sudden movement and heavy breathing.

“What is it!” She asked concernedly, observing Nabooru’s pale, clammy face as she lit a candle.

“He was here.” Nabooru remarked frightened. “I saw the flash of his portal as I woke from his nightmare. He is coming for us. For you and Riju.”

“Nabooru, it is just a dream. You told me yourself he couldn’t not heal himself from his injuries. Plus, if he was here, why are we still alive?” Pyra reasoned. “It is just stress, nothing more. I see it all the time in my patients.”

“He intends to torment me for what I have done. His love for me was all that stopped him from crossing the line, and now. Now he will have no restraint.” Nabooru went on.

Pyra took her face. “My dove, listen to me. Not only did an arrow pierce his lung, but a sword ripped through his abdomen. Link was successful in following him through and even if he had failed, his blood would have been as thin as water from the alcohol, he would have bled out within minutes. It is just a dream. Nothing more.” Pyra comforted before suggesting as she rose from the bed. “I’ll have the servants make you some camomile tea to calm you.”

It did not easy Nabooru’s mind. It felt like more than just a dream. If he was still alive, she had just made an extremely dangerous enemy, one that she could not defend against.

Ganondorf huffed as he slumped beside Hilda, a satisfied smile strewn across her blushed cheeks as she laid sprawled in the tangle of sheets the next morning.

Having found his release yesterday, he found it much easier to control himself this morning as he brought her to a climax. He wanted to please her, show her what he was capable of. “Did I not say... that I would bring forth screams… of intense pleasure… that you could not contain.” He panted.

She giggled as she draped her arm over his chest, “You did not disappoint."

“Of cause not. Only the best… for my Queen." He smirked, kissing her forehead.

Hilda adverted her eyes, sadness washed over her face as she sat up. “I do not feel like a queen. What do I rule? Empty halls and deselect fields.”

“Then we shall make this world our kingdom, but first we should advise our subjects of their new rulers”

“There are still people in this world?”

“On the out skirts of Lorule there are settlements. If we can find some mounts, we could arrive at one by this afternoon.”

“And, on foot?”

“I’ll find us something, but I will… require some of your magic to do so."

“It has still not returned?”

He shook his head subtly.

“Very well”, she agreed placing her hand on his chest, sharing her power with him.

“Thank you.” He acknowledged as she removed her hand from him.

“I have an odd question.” She asked looking at him from the side of her eye. He nodded for her to go on. “What is… the ‘Queen of heaven’."

He snorted as he held back a laugh with his hand. Where on Hyrule had she heard that? Coming for a girl who had never even touched herself before, he reflected. His face dropped as he recalled that she had been locked inside his room. “Perchance, did happen to go through my belongings whilst in my chamber?” He suggested, smirking side eyed at her.

“Possibly…” She reddened.

“And the least interesting book upon my extensive shelf caught your eye?” He questioned.

“It looked tattered compared to the rest.” She defended. “So, what is it?”

“It is… one of many positions one can make love in.” He informed, she looked curiously at him. “However, it is beyond your current expertise.” He remarked.

“Why is that?” She asked annoyedly.

He chuckled, “Because you have not even taken all of me, more depth is not what you require.”

“And what is that I require?” She glared playfully.

He leaned in close to her and whispered enticingly, “A kingdom.”

Her stomached rumbled.

“And breakfast evidently.” He smiled.

After breakfast, they dressed into lavishness outfits before Ganondorf headed to the treasury to discover that it had been ransacked. Clearly the locals weren’t that afraid of the cursed castle, he reflected.

He had Hilda collect a few satchels of rupees from Hyrule’s vaults as he procured two mounts from the forest; a large grizzly bear, and a doe that he had mesmerised.

As they made their way across Lorule, it became apparent the differences between this world and Hyrule. The lush green fields of Hyrule were nothing more than dried brown landscapes here. Deep fissures snaked through the lands, small wooden bridges linking the divisions together.

Crops withered in the fields, the streams of water ran brown. Even the air seemed different, still, as if it was missing its magic, its blessing. Upon reaching the settlements boarder, they released the beasts; they didn’t need the villages to cower inside at their sight.

As they made their way through the streets Ganondorf located the town crier. “Herald, I need you to gather the people for an announcement.” Ganondorf requested, retrieving a small sack of rupees from his coat pocket, tossing it the Crier.

“But of cause good Sir.” The stoutly man agreed while inspecting his payment. He pulled out a rupee and glared at it, then Ganondorf before tossing the sack back to him. “I have no use for colourful gems. I accept payment in gold coins only. You may return once-”, The mans expression went vacant as he fell silent. 

“I believe us better then to barter for coins with the peasants. Do you not agree my queen?” Ganondorf suggested.

“I suppose...” Hilda agreed distractedly observing the blank man’s face.

“I will have him introduce us, but you will speak to them, convince them to pledge their loyalty to you.”

“Me? How?” Hilda questioned nervously.

“That is up to how the almighty sorceress wishes to rule.” Ganondorf advised.

They followed the Town Cried up the stairs onto a large raised wooden platform, Ganondorf noted that it also served as the town gallows, however the nooses had been removed while it served its other purpose.

“Fellow citizens, gather round, gather round!” The stoutly man bellowed to the passing crowd.

They slowed as his alluring and confident voice drew them in. “Today my friends we welcome royalty amongst our midst!” The crowd eyed the two newcomers dressed in their elegant attire. Their focus drawn to the gigantic dark man towering above them on the stage.
“I introduce to you, Queen Hilda and her Husband, King consort, Ganondorf”. The herald announced, before he and Ganondorf bowed their heads to Hilda.

The crowd murmured their surprise at the introduction, as their assumption of the tall, burly, aged man as the monarch was disbanded.

Hilda looked stunned at Ganondorf before he waved her forward. She stepped forward and looked down upon the growing crowd, before exhaling. “The castle of Lorule has remained unclaimed and abandoned for too long. It is time for the kingdom to unite once more and restore its former glory. No more shall its people live in dread. Under my rein, the kingdom will prosper once again.” Her hands glowed bright white, the audience gasped and shuffled back.

“With my powers I gift to you not only abundance,” she waved her hand over the nearby orchard, the trees shimmered as they sprouted new growth, fruit multiplied and swelled upon the branches. “But the promise of a bright and flourishing future for all those that accept me as their monarch. In return I ask for your ongoing devotion and contributions-”

“Contributions? Another royal tax more like it!” Interjected a man’s voice from the crowds, the people hummed their agreeance.

“We’ve survived long enough without a monarchic and are better off for it!” An elderly woman yelled.

“Yeah, the people should retain government, not a pompous little girl!" Another shouted.

The crowds babbling grew as they voiced their opinions.

Hilda looked to Ganondorf for support, he was watching her intently, his arms crossed behind his back. She observed him unfurl his fist, a small purple flame danced in his palm, he gestured his eyebrows towards the crowd.

Hilda frowned as she absorbed his suggestion. She wanted them to adore her, but despite the wonder she had just demonstrated they denied her.

The crowd grew louder, voices fought over each other to be herd.

“Why should we pay for your extravagant lifestyle, interloper!" Called a Lorulian man.

“A promise of a fool's paradise!" Shouted anouther.

“Fly back to your nest little fledgling!" Screeched a Rito.     

Hilda clenched her fists as they bombarded her with insults. The rabble began to boo and push towards the stage.

Violet lighting cracked across the sky, the crowd ducked and screamed before falling silent. Hilda held out her right hand, it glowed white as she looked at it, she addressed the crowd, “If you refuse me as your benevolent ruler.” She held up her left hand, purple flames swirled around it.

The people gasped at its site.

“Then you will fear me as your oppressor!”

A tree in the orchard ignited in dark flames evoking terrified screams from the towns people, they began to push each other as they scrambled to flee into the adjoining streets. Ganondorf gazed at Hilda with delight, impressed by her determination.

Flaming walls of indigo rose in the streets exist, barricading the crowd in the square. “That is your choice!” Hilda threatened. “Bend your knee to me, here and now, and I will pardon your insubordination!”

Ganondorf bowed his head in an attempt to hide his widening grin from the crowd, not that they were focusing on him anyway, he analysed.

One by one the horrified gathering sank to their knees. Ganondorf slipped to his knee before proclaiming, “Long live the queen!”

Slowly the crowd joined in until the whole square erupted the chant. The blazing exits vanished as the burning tree smouldered into ash.

Hilda held up her hand and the chant died. “Now rise as my loyal subjects.” She commanded.

Cautiously they rose.

“Who among you speaks for this town?” She questioned.

The crowd patted as a tall, bearded man with unkempt hair made his way up the stage steps. “That would be me your grace. I am Reede, the Mayor of Hateno Village.” He addressed bowing his head.

Hilda gestured for the crowd to disperse; they were all too happy to oblige as the square emptied.

The Reeve invited them to his manor for discussions and a meal. Ganondorf spoke on Hilda’s behalf, he was experienced in the matters after all. They had agreed upon a lump sum payment of a five-hundred gold coins, followed by a tax of ten percent of the town’s monthly earnings.

The reeve had invited them to stay in his manor, as would be expected of him. Ganondorf had graciously declined his offer, wanting to make way for the next town, so the Mayor gifted them two horses for their travels instead.

As they rode through the town, Hilda cast her light magic over the fields, strengthening the crops as she had promised.

“You were spectacular. Truly impeccable, my queen.” Ganondorf praised as they trotted through the farmlands.

“I was too harsh. I do not want to rule by fear. I want to be adored." Hilda conveyed.

“No, you did what was necessary to earn their respect. They have grown complacent in their democratic approach; they will need a... little convincing to adopt the monarchy once again. Their fear will turn to love once they learn to appreciate your authority.” Ganondorf convinced.