A Call to Prayer

by KaelsMiscellany

Summary:

In order to make Hyrule richer and more powerful, King Nossalph agrees to a marriage between his daughter, Zelda, and the Son of the Sands, the future King of the Gerudo.

What was once a circle now becomes a spiral, and the only question is: is it destruction, or salvation, at the end?

Chapter 1: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Notes:

Hello, and welcome! This fic's definitely going to be more ambitious than Sweet Dreams, and I hope you all enjoy it.

This takes place in a sort of weird Child timeline, where Link never ended up in Termina, and the Sages managed to kill Ganondorf. Those're at least the biggest changes, you'll find out more along the way...

The story title comes from "Familiarity" by Punch Brothers, the title for this part comes from "A Kindling, Of Sorts" by The Oh Hellos.

Also, once again, I gotta give thanks to the lovely peeps in the Triforce Trio discord, for listening to me yell, and helping me figure out many things, y'all are really the best.

Zelda had never seen Gerudo before. No, that wasn’t accurate—and if she was to be worthy of the blessing of Nayru's Wisdom, as she was destined to be, then she must be as accurate to the truth as she could be—she had seen Gerudo, but never so many, and never this close to her person, before.

Six of them stood before the Royal Dais, and more were scattered around. They were all dressed similarly, though save for the jewelry they look nothing like the Gerudo she’s seen in her few outings to Castle Town. Her textbooks said, however, that it was their traditional garb, which didn’t make it any less strange to Zelda.

It was clear to see the guards, for they were the ones armed, and in red outfits that appeared brighter against their dark skins. Five of the ones in front of her were wearing white, while the last wore black. Which clearly marked her as important, but Zelda couldn’t make out why. Nevertheless, Zelda found her attention returning to her, who appeared at a glance to be the tallest Gerudo there as well. Somehow Zelda knew something about her, or there was something familiar about her, even if Zelda was certain she’d never seen the Gerudo before in her life.

The courtiers, ambassadors, and dignitaries whispered and stared; though they know why these women were here, same as Zelda. She was to wed their future king, though she would have thought her future husband would come with the rest of the Gerudo to meet her. Although she knew next to nothing about the Gerudo Prince, as she did all the other royal princes she could have possibly wed.

Unlike those other princes, however, the Gerudo knew the routes through the Great Desert and over the mountains to the west, and they had lightning magic; both things which made them highly attractive to her father, for reasons Zelda was apparently still too young to know. Not even Impa would tell her, and Impa told her everything.

Overall, Zelda didn’t feel opposed to the whole thing; she was a Princess after all, royalty marrying for love only happened in love plays and stories. But still, meeting him would have been nice.

“We, the Mothers, greet you King Nossalph, Princess Zelda.” The eldest of the women in white spoke, her voice deep and rich. “We thank you for agreeing to Alunshey, the Son of the Sand’s, suit, though we regret that he cannot be here himself. For it is forbidden for Alunshey to leave our lands until he is King.” The five women parted for the one in black. “This is Gandin, she is the Voice of the Son, and she will speak for him while we are here.”

Gandin stepped forward, her long red braid swaying, even as she gave a very Hylian bow. “King, Princess,” her voice was even deeper than the Mother’s. “I greet you as the Voice of the Son.” She turned her attention fully to Zelda, giving another little bow. “The Son wishes me to convey his deepest apologies for not meeting you himself, Princess Zelda. But know that he has made promise to do so once he has claimed his kingship.” 

“I understand,” Zelda did her best not to make a face when her voice squeaked a little. “Tell the Prince that while I wish otherwise, I will gladly wait to meet him once he is king.”

“Yes, yes,” Father’s voice broke through their conversation. “Zelda, escort this...Voice to the gardens, why don’t you? While the Mothers and I convene to discuss far less interesting things.” Her marriage, he meant; Zelda didn’t roll her eyes.

Standing she descended to Gandin, doing her best not to be taken aback by the fact she only reached the woman’s waist. “Lady Gandin.” Strangely she found herself realizing if Gandin undid her hair, Zelda could wrap herself in it completely.

“Princess.” Again in a very Hylian gesture she offered her arm, her voice pulling Zelda from her musings. It perhaps did look a little ridiculous once she took it, Gandin having to take about a half step for every one of Zelda’s so they kept pace. 

Zelda hardly noticed, more concerned with the flash of insight that took her as they walked: this Voice didn’t just speak for the Prince, she was the Prince?

-

Link did his best not to fidget while the man on the other side of the desk read the letter he’d handed over. Mom had said it would be enough to get him into the Castle Guard, but how did mom know that.

“So,” the man’s raspy voice made Link jump, a little. “You’re Romall and Sava’s son, eh?”

A nod, easier than trying to explain it—even though he knew Mom’s letter had said ‘child.’ Link felt like a boy today anyways, so he might as well just go along with it and figure it all out later.

“‘Least you still got your hearing. How old’re ya?”

“Fourteen,” Link answered. At least moving his fingers helped ease the urge to fidget. “I turn fifteen in two months.”

The man gave a nod. “I knew your folks well, kid. And once you hit sixteen, I’ll gladly take you in as an apprentice Guard.” Link could feel his face fall, that was over a year away! What was he supposed to do in the meantime? As if reading his thoughts, the man pulled out a sheet of fresh parchment, quill rasping as he wrote. “Ain’t gonna leave you high and dry, owe your ma my life, I do. So, here’s what’s gonna happen. Castle takes in pages young as you, and that’ll get you access to some early guard training too, iffen ya want it.”

Link gave another nod, the man sprinkled sand onto the letter. “Least you’re likely used to not being seen, growing up in the woods, eh?” The man continued before Link could even respond. “Noble’s’ll likely think just ‘cause you can’t speak, means you don’t got a brain. But don’t get greedy and start sellin’ off whatever gossip ya might hear, that’ll get you a ticket right to the dungeons, ya hear? You’re gonna just have to take whatever guff they give ya, cause that’s how nobles do, but don’t let any of the pages bully ya, yeah?”

He folded up the letter and sealed it with wax. “Take this right up to Kasso, the Majordomo, he’ll getcha settled up as a page. Down the hall and to the left. Do good work, train hard, and we’ll happily take ya in next year.”

Doing his best to keep his grin from getting too big, Link gave a little bow—that was what you were supposed to do, right?—before taking the letter and heading back into the hall.

I’ll make you proud, mom.

-

Zelda tilted her head up to take in a bit more of the late spring sun. Gandin sat next to her, his—her? Zelda wanted to ask, but was fairly certain that was actually rude—tall frame almost casting her completely in shadow.

Nearby a few of her still rotating circle of ladies-in-waiting were sitting and gossiping amongst themselves. They were supposed to be chaperoning, but seem more interested in talking about the Gerudo standing guard. Only Impa seems to be paying any attention to Zelda, and even she was far enough away that Zelda and Gandin could have a private conversation.

Not that either of them were speaking. Zelda resisted the urge to chew her lip as she tried to figure out a way to break the ice, they were supposed to be getting to know each other after all. “What’s it like having so many mothers?” Zelda only just kept herself from slapping a hand over her mouth over the definitely rude question. She could feel her cheeks turning pink however.

Gandin turned to her, copper eyes glittering. “What’s it like having a father?” His deep voice countered.

Fair enough, she rightly deserved that. She shrugged. “Um, I hope this isn’t another rude question,” she’d already asked one, so she might as well ask another potential one, for her own clarification. “Are you a…” She wracked her mind for the right terms. “Vai or voe?”

“Until I reach my majority, pass the King’s Trial, and reclaim my name, I’m vai,” she, then, answered. Seemingly unsurprised that Zelda had figured it out at all. “It’s safer that way.” A shrug. “And tradition, we are all vai outside Gintu.” White teeth flashed against her brown skin. “You?”

Zelda very much wanted to ask what she meant by ‘safer that way,’ but was certain that wasn’t the sort of question one asked this early in a relationship. “Vai, or at least...I think so?” Her textbooks had broken it down, seemingly clearly at the time, in Hylian terms; but Zelda was starting to get the suspicion that wasn’t the same as Gerudo terms.

Gandin gave a sage nod. “It is hard to know sometimes,” she agreed. “Though for outsiders we do simplify it greatly.” Which made Zelda want to ask even more questions, before she could find somewhere to start, however, Gandin was speaking again. “What is it you enjoy doing?”

“Learning things,” Zelda answered. Internally making a face, because this was a boring adult question. “Archery, horseback riding.” Despite it being a boring adult question, she found herself leaning in a little closer, as if somehow the ladies-in-waiting might overhear her. “Sometimes I dress as a boy and Impa and I sneak out into Castle Town.” Something that Impa had kind of made her swear not to tell anyone.

But Zelda reasoned that Gandin A) wasn’t just ‘anyone,’ and B) wasn’t a Hylian to get easily offended by such things.

Laughter left Gandin, and Zelda decided she liked it, even if she couldn’t quite figure out why. “And here my sisters thought you’d be a timid, handkerchief clutching, lady.” Again that flash of a smile. “You’ll fit in quite well back home when you finally arrive.”

“Thank you,” Zelda muttered as she ducked her head down, wishing she could hide behind her hair instead of having it pinned under a whimple.

Gandin’s shadow fell over her as she leaned in closer. “Since you shared such a secret with me, how about I show you something. Pick one of those timid ladies over there,” she inclined her head towards the ladies-in-waiting.

Now Zelda chewed her lip. “What’re you going to do?” She’d rather know before she picked a lady, just in case.

“I won’t hurt any of them,” Gandin sounded offended by the very thought. “Just...borrow something, for a little bit. She won’t even know it’s gone.”

“Lady Heba,” Zelda finally said. “She’s the one in the purple dress.”

“Then, excuse me for a moment, Princess.” Gandin stood and went over to the ladies, who all seemed to think they were hens and Gandin a fox. Though Gandin clearly began to charm them, kissing the backs of their hands like some knight out of a love play. She stayed for another minute or two, and when she left, Zelda could hear the ladies sounds of protest.

Which clearly made Gandin more than a little smug when she returned. “Your hand please, Princess?”

Cautiously Zelda offered it. With a flourish Gandin produced a gold and emerald bracelet, which looked quite small in her fingers. “Complements of Lady Heba. It suits you far better than it did her, though I wouldn’t tell her that when you return it.” She gave a grin as she moved to put it on Zelda’s wrist.

“How?” Zelda managed to ask. She knew more than few of the nobles called the Gerudo thieves, but she thought that was just them being...impolitic.

“Easy,” Gandin answered. “You Hylians, most of you anyways, are easily flustered.” She mimed kissing the back of someone’s hand. “Pair it with a physical action and it’s easy to miss someone just...liberating something from your person. Wrists and fingers are easy. Pockets, necks, or ears take a bit more work.”

Zelda found herself filing that all away, though she had no idea when any of it might come in use, as Gandin finally put the bracelet on her. Her large fingers were warm and calloused as they touched Zelda for the first time. Even after she’d closed the catch—almost as impressive considering how delicate it was—Gandin’s fingers lingered for a few seconds, and Zelda understood what she meant by ‘easily flustered.’

Their fingers brushed as Gandin pulled away, and the world flashed for Zelda. ...a dagger in a hand raised high...blood on Gandin’s face…

“Princess?”

Zelda gasped, returning to the world. She must not have been gone for long, for she was still sitting upright. Eyes widening she turned to Gandin, grabbing her by the vest to pull her close. “Someone’s going to try and kill you!”

Notes:

New chapters will be posted every Wednesday, barring any unforeseen circumstances.

Chapter 2: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Gandin laughed.

Zelda did her best not to fume and stomp her foot, princesses were beyond such childish things. “I’m serious,” she hissed angrily.

Untangling Zelda’s fingers, Gandin calmed herself and her expression grew grave. “I believe you. Only…” A huff left her. “Assassination attempts are nothing new to me, Princess. The only differences is you’ve given me a heads up, though I would not have thought anyone would be so bold as to do it here.” A sort of calm acceptance filled her voice, one that Zelda herself wouldn’t feel if she were in the Gerudo’s shoes.

“How many?” She found herself asking, hesitantly.

“With this one? Eight of my sisters have died protecting the current Alunshey over three attempts, we have carved their names in the temple and shout their names into the storm.” Gandin’s face grew distant. “We are gifted Alunshey every hundred years, to lead us to glory and prosperity, but it has been six hundred years since the last Gerudo king. There is a conspiracy of sorts, or perhaps more than one, bent of defying the will of the Goddess. Because of them, three of the Sons have been smothered in the cradle, one was poisoned, and the previous one was thrown from a horse. Though there is some debate whether that was actually assassination, or ill luck.” Her smile was brittle.

“Oh,” Zelda murmured. “But doesn’t this...cult,”—a good enough word for it, Zelda supposed—“know you’re here?”

Gandin threw her hands wide. “But, Princess, I am not Alunshey, only his Voice here to meet you. For all agree Alunshey is voe, even outside Gintu.” Her brittle smile turned sharp. “Though it is clear that is enough, if your vision is to happen here.”

Zelda wanted to argue that that wasn’t true, that they both knew that. Gandin was clearly the Son of the Sands, if only in hiding. But she bit her tongue, because someone might be listening. She couldn’t imagine living her whole life like that, looking over her shoulder, wondering when someone might try to kill her. Anyways Zelda only knew because of magic, which wasn’t how most people would figure such things out.

She was saved from answering by Impa’s approach. “My lady, while I’m sure you and the Voice would like to speak longer, your lessons await.”

A sigh left Zelda. “Yes, thank you, Impa.” She stood and curtsied to Gandin. “Thank you for an...enlightening conversation Lady Gandin, I hope the rest will not disappoint.”

“Of that, princess, I have no doubt,” Gandin answered.

“You’ll return the bracelet,” Impa said when they were halfway to the castle. It was not a request.

Another sigh. “Yes, yes, I will.” She’d been planning to, though part of her did wish to keep it. Wrong as that was.

-

Link wished she could find whomever it was who designed the page’s uniforms and kiss them. For while they were a bit thin, they were the same for boys and girls, regardless of age.

It meant that she could wear her hair in a tail, put the gold cuff she’d been given by a Kokiri on her ear, and all the nobles called her ‘girl,’ when they spoke to her—she doubted any of them knew her name. And when she felt like a boy, she’d haphazardly tuck her hair under the cap she’d been given—which she always feared was going to fall off her head at any moment—and look like any other boy.

The other pages didn’t seem to know what to make of this, but while they’d learned over the past few days she understood them only two of them knew Sign, and the rest didn’t seem interested in learning. Much to Link’s relief, when she’d gone down for the first self-defense class the Guards offered, she discovered they all knew Sign. Considering mother had been the one to teach it to her, maybe it shouldn’t have surprised as much as it did.

Clutching the cap to her head, Link raced towards the classroom. Another surprise, that for two hours of her day she’d be stuck in a room with twenty other pages and be taught all sorts of things. Which Link was also grateful for, because her five day journey from the forest she’d grown up in to Castle Town had quickly taught her she knew little of Hyrule and the people in it, and Link wanted to fix that.

“Not the last this time, Link,” Tifei, their teacher, said, peering at Link through her glasses. “Congratulations.”  

Link could feel her ears burning as she took a seat—she’d memorized the map of the castle she’d been given quickly, but the map didn’t fully prepare her for how big the castle actually was. The last few students shuffled in and Tifei cleared her throat. “Alright, we’ll be doing algebra first today, then move on to Culture.”

Some of the students groaned. Tifei glowered at them. “I know you’re all eager to learn more about the Gerudo visiting us, but you must work for it.”

Link kept her head down, she’d endured worse than math problems.

-

Zelda awoke almost a week after the Gerudo arrived, only to peer out her window and discover it was raining. It wasn’t a downpour, not yet, but it looked like it might be one.

A few minutes later her maids burst into the room, all splitting off to do their various tasks. Zelda found herself frowning as she realized they were giggling about something. “What’s happened?” Impa usually frowned on the maids gossiping around Zelda, but this clearly was more important than that minor ban.

The maids all looked at each other, clearly having some silent fight over who would tell Zelda. So it had to be about the Gerudo in some fashion if they were hesitating so.

Finally, Civie spoke from the closet. “It’s the Gerudo, Your Highness. They’re...out dancing in the rain.”

Yes, that would set everyone abuzz. Not letting herself think too much on it, she dashed into the closet as she yanked off her nightgown. Snatching the dress Civie held in her hands, Zelda tugged it on with the same impatience.

She only barely just managed to remember to grab shoes as she ran from her room, sending the maids into an uproar. “Your Highness!” “Your hair!” “Not at all proper!”

Dancing around servants and nobles, Zelda rushed down to the ground floor of the Castle, before finding a niche to stop in and tug her slippers on. She made her way out through a side door, surprising the Guard there. She didn’t even hear his protest as she began searching for the Gerudo.

Not here in the main square...so the gardens somewhere.

Zelda pushed back her darkening hair as it began to cling to her face. Kicked off her slippers when the mud began to soak into them, feeling a little like a child again she laughed. Racing through the rain she heard the Gerudo before she saw them. Voices raised in joy, and, Zelda realized, drumbeats imitating thunder.

She watched them for a moment, dancing and leaping, uncaring of their own soaked clothes and hair.

Zelda spotted Gandin easily, rushing to her and grabbing her too-large hand in both of Zelda’s own. Gandin whirled around, staring down at Zelda, confusion crossing her face—Zelda knew she hardly looked like a princess now, blonde hair gone bronze with rain, and her dress soaked through. It cleared after a few seconds. “Princess,” Gandin said slowly, as if uncertain of what to make of all this.

Zelda tilted her face up so she could meet Gandin’s copper eyes with her own indigo ones, she answered the unasked question. “I want to dance with you.”

Gandin’s grin flashed like the lightning the drumbeats promised. “Then dance.”

-

Later, as Zelda was soaking in a tub, Impa chided her. “That was foolish.”

Zelda ducked her head under the water for a few seconds, to gather her thoughts. “It wasn’t foolish, it was fun. I’m supposed to be connecting with these women, they’ll be my subjects some day, and…” She blew bubbles in the water. “If the maids were laughing at them, then the nobles were too.” Her face set. “I will not have my future king and his people be a laughing stock because they celebrate something so banal to us, yet is rare to them.”

She found herself staring down at the back of her right hand, the pale outline of the goddesses sigil shouting to anyone who knew the stories that she would be the Bearer of Wisdom one day. She hadn’t done her dancing in the hopes it might wake the Triforce, but she still felt a thread of disappointment that the left triangle remained only an outline still.

Impa filled her hands with lavender soap and began washing Zelda’s hair. “Well done, my lady.”

Chapter 3: part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

The air in the great hall was stuffy and Link surreptitiously tried to tug on the neck of her page's uniform to get some cool air against her skin. Normally pages didn’t help servants at mealtime, but this was a grand feast, and they needed all the help they could get. And being among the ranks of the newest pages, Link was forced to hold a bottle of wine and pay attention to anyone signaling for more.

Which she was only half-successful at, her gaze always managing to drift up to the royal table. The King was drinking heavily, which the Princess seemed intent on ignoring; her attention on the Gerudo in black sitting next to her, the two of them deep in some sort of conversation.

Bony fingers pinched her shoulder. “Goddess, Link, pay attention,” Amei hissed. The older page darted away before Link could even flip the other girl off, a fake smile plastered on her face as she went and poured wine for some merchants at the lowest table.

Link bit back a sigh and entered the fray herself—the voices of the guests overwhelming the sounds of the musicians above—swaying out of the way of drunken fumblings as she served empty cups, retreating to the edges only when her bottle was empty.

“So,” Zatal grinned as he handed over another bottle. “Think they’ll all get drunk enough and start an orgy or something?” Link made a face and the man laughed. “Such a strange little prude, parties aren’t fun until the nobles do something outrageous. Last party we had Gorons dancing on the tables, nearly broke the damn things.”

With a tight smile Link clutched her bottle to her chest and left him before he could go on, not seeing the point of such talk. Ducking between a Rito and Zora having an enthusiastic discussion, Link made her way higher up the tables. She was too new to even consider serving the royal table, but she could get closer.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Problem was, everything was so hectic she couldn’t tell where the danger might be coming from.

“Hey!” A woman’s slurred voice blared in her ear. “Want some whine... wine.” Link felt the woman’s body press against her as she swayed. “You’re pretty.”

Link huffed, then shoved the whole bottle at the woman, who took it without thinking. Knowing she’d probably get in trouble for abandoning her task, and knowing there were plenty of Royal Guard standing watch on the edges of the room, Link still couldn’t ignore the feeling of danger now that she knew it was out there.

It was harder to blend in with people than it was with the woods, but Link felt herself managing well enough—it helped that everyone was a drunken, chaotic mass. She got as close to the royal table as she could, her neck prickling again. Swaying with the crowd she began to scan the room, remembering to look up.

It was on her second of such passes that she finally noticed something, or she had stopped noticing something. Her gaze flew up to the musician’s gallery to find it empty.

Outraged voices followed in Link’s wake as she shoved her way to the nearest guard. Who looked down at her with trained disinterest. “Yes, sweetheart?” He asked.

Link resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “The musicians are gone,” she signed quickly.

He had to twist some to look up. “Prolly all went for drinks themselves. Music’s thirsty business. Anyways we checked ‘em all, they don’t got no weapons on them.”

Only reassuring if one didn’t consider the thought that weapons might be gotten elsewhere. Something moving in the corner of her eye made her whirl around, spotting a trio of pages heading towards the royal table. Except the longer Link looked at them, the more she realized they were too old.

Turning back around she yanked the spear from the guard’s hands—he still had his sword, which he’d probably be better at using than Link was—and ran towards the table, ignoring his shouts for her to stop. 

Farore guide my hand, Link prayed, hoping she wouldn’t be too late.

-

Zelda absently noted the pages the same way she always absently noted pages. Beyond that she paid them no mind, more interested in her conversation with Gandin. How was she to know, after all?

She knew, only a few minutes later. One of the pages had a dagger in hand, rushing towards them. Before anyone, even Impa or Eemid, could react there was another page between the dagger-wielding one and Gandin, carrying a spear.

The would-be assassin practically impaled himself, blood spraying out at the force of it. It landed on her, Gandin as well, but then there was nothing else to notice, for the world went golden.

The next thing Zelda knew was she was being carried by Impa away from the Great Hall. Then the two of them were in a small side chamber. Zelda watched almost absently as Impa secured the room: cloth in the keyhole, and at the bottom of the door, marks drawn on the door for locking and silence.

“My lady?” Impa was crouched in front of her now, red eyes concerned. “My lady?” She asked again when Zelda didn’t answer. “Zelda.” Warm fingers cupped her cheeks, smearing some of the blood. “Say something, please.”

Oh, Zelda was shaking. “I,” she managed to croak out. Her mind kept replaying what happened, over and over. “Sick,” was the only other thing she got out before her stomach revolted.

Impa produced a bucket from somewhere only a second later, rubbing a hand up and down Zelda’s back as she murmured soothing nonsense.

She felt even worse when it was done, somehow, she wiped her mouth with the back of a sleeve—the dress was ruined anyways—as she sat upright. Not fighting it when Impa pulled her onto her lap; something that hadn’t happened since Zelda’s mother had died. “Drink,” Impa uncorked a small red bottle.

Zelda drank, relieved when the healing potion began to work. “Gandin, is he,”—Zelda cursed herself—“is she alright?”

“The Gerudo were hauling her out of them almost as quickly as I snatched you up,” Impa answered dryly. She’d definitely noticed the slip, but was being kind enough not to mention it. “I don’t think there were many assassins, so she should be fine. Eemid got your father out as well, and I don’t envy him the task of sobering the King up.”

A nod, Zelda’s thoughts already moving on. “That page...they need to be thanked.” She’d barely noticed anything about them, however, it’d all happened so fast. “Do you think, they caused the golden light?” It’d been magic, but no magic Zelda had ever known before. “I...I don’t think it was from the assassins.” Even if Zelda had never encountered it before, she’d still gotten the impression that it was safe, as much as magic could be safe.

Impa held onto Zelda more tightly. “That shall have to wait, my lady. You and I will not leave this room until Eemid tells me it’s safe. After that, you can do all the investigating you’d like.”

“It would have to be before they clean up,” Zelda’s mind and stomach both gave a little protest at that. “Otherwise something might be destroyed.” She wanted to hope it was a stronger magic than that, but one never knew.

A sigh, and a few words of Sheikah that Impa hadn’t taught her yet. “I would’ve spared you from all of that, if I could. You will have nightmares, would you like me to stay with you the next few nights?”

Zelda gave a little nod. She knew bad things happened in Hyrule, but it was still considered an era of peace, and there certainly hadn’t been an assassination attempt in the Castle for hundreds of years. She wondered how many nobles were going to start protesting this marriage of hers on that front alone.

They were there for another half-an-hour, by Zelda’s reckoning, before Eemid found them and gave the right counter-signs that meant ‘safe and not a trap.’ Eemid gave a more full account as he led them to Father: the four assassins were all dead, only a Gerudo had been injured and it wasn’t life threatening. All the nobles had been secured in their own rooms while the Guard began their investigation.

The three of them were not the only ones approaching the door when they got there. A girl page—or at least Zelda assumed girl from her hair, though her face was almost too sharp—was being marched along by the Captain of the Guard, Rogan, Zelda recalled. That the girl’s uniform was bloody indicated she was likely the one who’d saved Zelda and Gandin. She didn’t look happy, though she was keeping her mouth shut instead of yelling at Rogan so that was something. Her hazel eyes sparked in strange ways, and Zelda felt a frisson as she looked at them for too long.

“Princess.” Rogan gave a low bow, making the page bow with him. “Glad to see yer alright. You go in an’ see yer father first, Link and I’ll be in shortly.”

Link, Zelda hadn’t realized it’d become a girl’s name too, but it felt fitting. “Thank you, Captain Rogan,” she replied. Noting how he stood up a little straighter at being addressed by name. 

Taking a deep breath, Zelda straightened herself, then walked in, Impa and Eemid flanking her.

-

Link did her best not to fidget while she and the captain waited to be called in. She at least wished she could’ve changed her clothes, she wasn’t a fan of meeting the king in her bloodstained uniform—though she’d been good at not getting any vomit on it. She’d at least had the time to put some gloves on to cover the strange mark that’d appeared and hadn’t come off when she’d washed her hands.

“Told you yer too young to be a guard,” Rogan chastised.

“I was closer,” Link replied, gesturing emphatically. “If I hadn’t done anything, things would’ve been worse.”  That Gerudo dead, if not the Princess as well.

“Even so, boy, I don’t have to like it.”

Link grit her teeth, knowing she had no one to blame for that but herself. She started to correct him, but one of those Sheikah opened the door. “The King will see you now,” they said.

She followed Rogan, feeling like she might throw up again. That’d be something, she’d get to meet the royal family, only to throw up on their shoes. In an effort to keep that from happening she took careful, deep breaths through her nose.

This time Rogan didn’t need to make her bow, she followed his example. Glancing up through her eyelashes she saw not only the Princess and King, but the Gerudo woman in black whom the assassins had been after, her own guard standing stiffly at attention.

“So you’re the page who saved my daughter,” the King intoned. “We wish you many thanks, and would offer you a boon for your loyalty.”

Startled, Link rose out of her bow and shook her head. She hadn’t done it for anything, she’d done it because as far as she knew, neither the Princess or the Gerudo deserved to die.

The King’s bushy eyebrows beetled. “Are you afraid to speak, page?”

“Um,” Rogan thankfully stepped in. “Link don’t talk, Your Majesty, he’s mute.”

Link did her best to keep her face neutral. She must have let something slip though—or perhaps she was reacting to Rogan—for the Princess looked surprised and exclaimed. “‘He?’ I’d thought Link was a ‘she.’” Link felt her own burst of surprise at the words.

Which didn’t stop her from nodding. “I am,” she signed. “At the moment, at least.”  There was perhaps something a little embarrassing in having to explain this in front of all these people. She didn’t exactly wish she was back in the Lost Woods, but she did wish these people didn’t find her so strange.

Rogan looked confused as he translated for Link. “Yer a girl? Coulda said that, we let girls into the Guard too.”

Now Link wished she was back in the Woods.

Next to the Princess, the Gerudo raised her eyebrows. Saying something, probably in Gerudo, that...sounded a little like a sneeze, which Link was certain was not at all polite to think, but she couldn’t help herself. Clearly only the guard understood her, her golden eyes giving Link a brisk once over before letting out a little snort and replying.

The Princess looked like she wanted to ask about what the Gerudo were saying, Link wouldn’t mind knowing herself, but the King cleared his throat before she could ask. “Regardless, you are still to be given a boon, within reason.”

All eyes were on Link, and she could only shrug. “I just want to be a Guard, like my parents were, when I’m old enough."  Rogan quickly translated.

Which seemed to confuse the King a little, but the Princess quickly spoke up. “Father, if Link here wishes nothing, perhaps, if she were amenable to such a thing, I could take her on as my own personal page. And when she is a Guard she can join Impa in protecting me.”

Link nodded.

“Then it will be so.” The King appeared relieved to have the whole thing done with.

“In the morning, Impa will come collect you from the Page’s Hall,” the Princess said, to Link.

Link could only nod again, fingers feeling as heavy as stone. She bowed again with Rogan before hurrying out after him, uncertain how to feel about everything that just happened.

-

Because it was the right and proper thing to do, a few days later Zelda was there, right alongside her Father, seeing the Gerudo off. Their horses were beautiful, and Zelda found herself noting in surprise that they had no bridle or reins.

She wove her way through the Gerudo to Gandin, Link trailing behind her awkwardly. He—which had been their first halting conversation, Zelda had already resolved to learn Sign—kept looking around, Zelda didn’t know if it was out of curiosity, or wariness.

“Lady Gandin.” She gave a polite curtsy. “I am sorry to see you go. I...I hope that what you have learned about me will please the Son of the Sands.” It felt weird to be talking about him as if he and Gandin weren't the same person, perhaps to a Gerudo they were different.

Gandin gave her own brief bow. “I can assure you, princess, that he will like all I have to say. And I am sad to go, for this trip has been most illuminating.” She turned her attention to Link. “And I thank you again, vuei, I owe you a great debt.”

Link’s ears pinkened, but he gave a slow nod.

“That word,” Zelda finally felt they were alone enough to ask. There’d been too many people around both of them since the assassination attempt, for her to feel comfortable in asking. “What is it? Vuw-ee?” Zelda grimaced at her own pronunciation, not at all as smooth as Gandin’s. Gerudo clearly was right up there with Sign as important things she needed to learn.

Who’s eyes narrowed, more in thought, Zelda hoped, than anger. “Voo-ay,” Gandin corrected, almost absently. “I am not sure there is an equal word in Hylian, or at least I have not been taught it. To translate it literally…” She let out a slow breath. “I guess it would be, hmmm, Spirit who walks between? Or that’s close enough, at least.”

Zelda glanced at Link, who was wearing his own thoughtful expression, before giving a nod.

“Then it is yours to use, Link,” Gandin said. “Though I cannot make you an honorary Gerudo here. Perhaps if you accompany the princess when she comes to us, it might be done.”

Hazel eyes widened, but before he could try to protest, a pair of Gerudo approached, carrying an odd looking box between them. Gandin said something to them in Gerudo as she took the box, they nodded and left. Gandin set the box on the ground and took off the lid. “I hope you will allow me one parting gift, princess.”

A nod. “Of course, Gandin, I don’t see why I wouldn’t allow it.”

That lightning smile again. Her large hands reached into the box and scooped something up. “We found him on our travels over, a lizalfos was eating his mother…” She drifted off in contemplation as she opened her hand to show Zelda.

‘He’ was a piglet, though he looked nothing like the piglets she’d seen in her excursions to the villages in Hyrule Field. This one was a dun color, with dark brown stripes, he snuffled at Gandin’s fingertips, but didn’t seem too put out. Zelda clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeal, she didn’t want to frighten the poor thing.

“He meets your approval then? If you do not wish him we can easily dedicate him to the Temple of Din.”

Zelda shook her head. “I’ll take him, thank you.” Even though she was sure accepting a wild pig for a pet was not her smartest idea. “Ah, would you have a suggestion for a name?” It would be appropriate to give him a Gerudo name, she thought. She stepped forward and gently grabbed him. He was small enough he fit into her arms easily. His fur was far softer than she thought it would be as she pet him.

Gandin frowned a little. “I...I would not know what sort of thing would be appropriate, Zelda, I am not in the habit of naming animals.”

“Oh, not even horses?” The Gerudo certainly seemed to take good care of them, at least from what she could see of the ones surrounding her.

Gandin shook her head. “No. We only refer to our horses by their color, and Gerudo do not usually keep pets.”

Which made a sort of sense, Zelda guessed, though she didn’t quite understand it. “Then I shall not name him at all, in respect of your traditions.”

It was a little hard not to laugh at the surprise that filled Gandin’s face at her words. Only for it to vanish when, a few moments later, as a Gerudo called out something. Around Zelda and Link they all began to mount their horses. Gandin following suit. Zelda could feel Link tug on her dress lightly, she knew it was time for them to go, but first… “Tell the Son, when you return to him, that I expect him to write. And, that I would not be opposed to learning about the Gerudo, from the Gerudo.”

Looking down at her, which felt even more imposing with her being on a horse, Gandin nodded. “I shall tell him, and I hope you shall write back. It is good that you should both keep in touch.”

“I will,” Zelda promised as she finally let Link lead her away.

Neither of them attempted to converse while the Gerudo finished their preparations, and began to leave. All their voices raised in a beautiful song of some sort.

When they were gone, Link turned to her and arched an eyebrow. She had a pretty good idea of what he was asking, even if his fingers never moved. “No, I don’t know anything about raising a pig. But I’m going to find out.”

Notes:

If you’ve never seen wild piglets before, do yourself a favor and look them up. They are a balm in these trying times.

Chapter 4: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Notes:

cw for some minor body horror at the end of the chapter.

Almost a week and a half after the Gerudo had left, Zelda was tucked away in her room, reading a book before she went to bed. Through her open window she could distantly hear the sounds of revelry from the other side of the castle—she was still considered too young for such things, excepting her birthday, and Nayru’s Day in terms of staying up late—though more importantly she could smell the gardens, and the remains of this afternoon’s rain.

 ...The language of the Gerudo, is a curiosity, much in the same way Goron Hylian is. In that it is a single-gender language, in fact its quirks make it the opposite of Goron Hylian, in that there are only ‘sisters’ not ‘brothers.’ As has been well established for centuries now, the Gerudo have only one male child every century, though it also seems whomever this male child might be, has not survived to adulthood in recent times. For this male child is destined to be their king, but they have had no king since the Civil War.

So then, the main gender of Gerudo is Vai, or female/woman, and while it does have the masculine Voe, this is only used for outsiders at the moment. 

Expanding from Vai, you have Vehvi for daughter, which seems to be applied to all girls, regardless of who their mother might actually be. As they are used to desert life, communal raising of daughters is a better way ensuring their survival, much like the Zora. Going up a step you then have Vuhevi, or sister, for those of a similar age group; thus it could also be considered to translate as ‘companion’ after a fashion. At the top then, you have Veunvi, the mother. Referring to either your biological mother, or as a term of respect for any woman older than yourself.  Even above that you have Veunvi’rin, the chief mothers, or elders.

The linguistic link, of course, is quite clear throughout…

“Useless again,” Zelda muttered in annoyance. She’d hoped since this book was a more recent attempt at compiling Gerudo for Hylians, it might have the vuei word Gandin mentioned, but no such luck.

As much as she wanted to toss the book away, she instead got up and only dropped it onto her desk with a satisfying thud. Turning around she bit back a shriek, at the sight of a roc preening on her windowsill.

While it was a beautiful bird—even in the dim light of her candles it shone with a sort of blue-green iridescence, and the edges of it’s feathers appeared trimmed in gold—she knew they were bad luck, and pests besides. It didn’t bode well that this one decided her windowsill made a good perch.

She stepped closer to shoo it away before anyone else might see it, only to realize there was a letter attached to the ankle of the bird.

“Who sends a letter by roc?”

The roc, thankfully, didn’t answer. Nor did it try and bite or attack her while she untied the letter from it. Stepping closer to her candle she unrolled it and began reading, eyes widening in surprise.

Princess Zelda,

My own voice has told me you wish to receive letters, so that we might better know each other. A good beginning, though perhaps not as perfect as face to face. So I shall do my best to write clearly, in the hopes of preventing conflict and pain.

I am Alunshay, the Son of the Sands. It is a title, yes, but it is also the only name I have until I am eighteen and can try to claim my true name. If my Mother is kind, I shall succeed. Until then, I can only be Alunshay. I also would like to describe myself to you, but in the off chance this letter falls into hands that wish me ill, I cannot. My people know I live among them as one of them, but they do not know my appearance to be that of their would-be King, only as another vai in a sea of them.

So then, letters are a good beginning, but I’ve made a poor start on my end. I hope you will forgive me.

I can share these things: I too enjoy horseback riding, and archery. I am quite adept at magic, though I am certain there is always more to be learned. I have, much to the frustrations of those who are allowed to know me, a voracious sweet tooth.

I am again, sorry I can provide you with only crumbs when I should be giving you a feast. I can only hope that as our correspondence continues you will learn more.

Alunshay

You are welcome to respond using this roc, it has been trained to return to my hand alone, though you will need to feed it before it can make the return trip. Also this letter should reach you before the tutors you have requested do, so they are coming, and perhaps, the next time I write, I shall do it in Sa’suresh, to help you improve your understanding.

Zelda chewed on her lip for a moment. “I don’t have anything for you to eat,” she found herself apologizing to the roc. “Um...but there are plenty of moles in the garden, which I’m sure the gardeners wouldn’t begrudge you.” It did feel a bit silly talking to a bird, but though they were bad luck, she also knew rocs were supposed to be quite intelligent.

It did seem to understand her, for it croaked, then hopped off the sill, gliding down. She hoped none of the guards tried to kill it.

Sitting down at her desk she chewed her lip again, wondering how she should reply to Alunshay.

-

Link had thought being Zelda’s page would make things easier for him, and it did, in a way. He still had his two hours of lessons, but the rest of his time was spent with the princess alone. Running messages for her, fetching things, or teaching her Sign—which she was picking up with an ease that caught Link off guard.

Not that she wasn’t teaching him too: secret passages, the names of all the nobles and ambassadors, and how to address them. She also seemed intent on pulling him in every time she went to work on learning Gerudo. Though she also seemed displeased none of the books the castle librarian had dug up even mentioned the vuei word Lady Gandin had given Link.

Link chewed his lip, his quill making absent scratches against the parchment as he tried to pay attention to  Tifei’s lesson—history today—and failed miserably. Vuei...Link had never thought there was a word for what he was. Granted he hadn’t exactly known other languages except Hylian, and Sign, and what little Kokiri he’d dared to learn—learn too much, mom had warned, and they might steal him away.

A knock on the classroom door distracted everyone. One of the older pages stepped in, giving a little tilt of his head to Tifei. “The princess requires Link, Miss Tifei.”

All the rest of the pages began muttering and narrowing their eyes. Many of them’d gotten friendlier now that he worked for the princess, but the rest seemed to resent his sudden rise in importance. It wasn’t as if he’d hired the assassins to get it, he’d just been in the right place at perhaps the wrong time.

“You may go Link,” Tifei said. “Though I want you to read the first five chapters of Hylia Through the Ages and write a summary for me.”

Link gave a tight nod, packing away his things and hurrying out of the classroom.

He knew the way from here to the Princess’ chambers by heart now, making it there in record time. As he stepped into her receiving room, he was surprised to see some Gerudo with her. All of them dressed like Gandin and the others had been—two of them in white, one in blue, another in purple, the last in black—all of them staring at him.

The one in black spoke first. “You are the vuei Link?” She stood and gave a bow before he could even nod. “Alusnhay wishes for me to extend his deepest gratitude for saving the life of Rainor Gandin and the Princess, and wishes you to have this gift.”

One of the Gerudo in white stood, carrying over a small box. Link felt mildly uncomfortable as he took the box, opening it slowly. His discomfort was forgotten as he stared down at the pair of bracers within. Setting the box down on one of the princess’ infinite number of side tables he pulled one out. The metal looked to be gold, but it didn’t have the coolness he expected—although that was perhaps a trait of Kokiri gifts and not gold—nor was it that heavy. He turned it over in his hands, the abstract designs inlayed in green, blue, and red eye catching; making the bracer look almost decorative. Link was certain it would do its job better than it would appear to, however.

It was a bit on the loose side when he finally put it on, but it tightened down to size easily and fit over the fingerless gloves he now wore constantly. And that just meant he could grow into it—if he had any growing left. Undoing the laces he took it off and put it back in the box with its mate. Looking the woman in her eye as he shook his head. “I can’t take these, they’re too much.”

The Princess translated for him, though her expression was one of mild exasperation. Though why, Link hadn’t the foggiest.

The Gerudo crossed her arms and stared down her nose at him. “Alusnhay has decreed them to be given to you, they are yours whether you wish them or not. To be humble is right and proper, but too much and who will give you respect? A little pride would serve you well.” She turned her attention from him back to the Princess. “I shall see you later, Princess, I am sure.”

She left as the other four stood, each of them gave a low bow, and a murmured ‘until tomorrow,’ before leaving.

“Who are they?” Link asked once the door was closed. He closed the box that held the bracers carefully, half afraid they might leap out of the box and attach themselves to him.

“The one in black is Nabooru, she declared herself the Voice of the People, which I’m guessing is a bit like an ambassador, to Father and I. The other four are Riviko, Geitaifi, Anure, and Ikafu. Apparently they are to be my teachers, though I am certain they’ve also been tasked with guarding me.” The Princess sighed. “I hope, Link, that when they are teaching me, you might join me?”

The hopeful note in her voice made Link frown a little. “Why?”

If she thought it was rude of him to ask, she didn’t say it. Instead answering: “I, I know you’re a page and I’m the Princess, but I had hoped...I hope, that we might...still become friends?” A blush raced across her cheeks as she looked away, picking up a folded parchment and turning it over in her hands. “And it would be nice to learn things with a friend, instead of alone.”

Link didn’t know how to respond. An offer of friendship certainly had never been something he’d expected, least of all from the Princess. She was kind and friendly to everyone after all, no matter if they were human, rito, goron, or zora. Why should Link have been any different?

He flexed his fingers in hesitation. “I...I’ve never had a friend before.” Not unless you counted his horse Epona.

“I’ve never had one either,” she replied, her smile wan. “It will be something else for us to learn.”

“Alright.”

-

As promised, early the next morning before Zelda’s other lessons, Geitaifi and Riviko appeared at Zelda’s door. They didn’t seem surprised that Link was waiting there too. Though they were surprised that Zelda offered them tea, they covered it up by accepting, much to Zelda’s relief. She wanted to make these women feel welcome.

Of the two of them, Zelda had no idea if they were the same age, or if one was older than the other. They could have been identical twins—perhaps they were—though one could tell them apart from the fact that Riviko’s hair was the shortest Zelda had ever seen on a Gerudo, only reaching her ears; and Geitaifi’s eyes were an odd sort of greenish-gold.

Geitaifi smiled broadly as she set her cup down. “So then, you have been a good host to your teachers, Princess, shall we begin our lessons of Sa’suresh? Or is there perhaps something particular you wish to know before we begin?”

“Veui,” Zelda answered firmly—strange that the books she’d gotten on the language had only called it Gerudo, but that could be a question for another time. “I trust Gandin in it being a word you all use, but I’ve scoured through old books and new written about Sa’suresh, and not one of them mention it?” Which perhaps wasn't a true question, but she was curious to know how these two women would answer it.

Riviko’s snort could almost be considered answer enough. “The old ones, you Hylians barely saw us as more than backwater thieves, not even worthy of a scrap of respect, so why should we have treated them the same? As for new...even though we have been connected for nearly a hundred and fifty years again, there have been few Hylians brave enough to risk the desert to speak with us. It is likely they only copied off the old.”

“Veui is hard to explain to most, anyways,” Geitaifi continued. “The Hytopians still have trouble with it.” She rolled her eyes. “Would you Hylians understand that there are some that are neither vai nor voe, factoring in the misconception you believe that these words mean ‘woman’ and ‘man?’”

“Some of us would,” Link’s glower almost said more than her fingers did.

Zelda translated, and both Gerudo inclined their heads. “Apologies,” Riviko said. “It is not a word we give often to outsiders, even ones we are close with, anyways. Gandin, for all her training to inherit her mother’s position as Enatu, the Great Sage, was perhaps a bit rash to give it to you without proper understanding; but she is young, and all youth are rash.” A smile crossed Riviko’s face.

“How then, can we properly understand?” Zelda asked.

“Some nuances can only be seen, and not explained in words. But the basics can be conveyed,” Riviko answered.

“Vai, voe, vuei,” Riviko continued. “These are not words we use to describe the body, but the spirit within it, what is given to the Tribe, or people. Even vehvi, vuhevi, and vuenvi are like this. To be a vai is to be one who stands like the sand dunes in the desert, unshakable and solid. They are not always warriors, but they are also the first among us to pick up arms and fight, they are bright and beautiful and some of our best.”

“Voe,” Geitafi picked up. “Sit, light and airy as flowers upon the water. They watch within the walls and houses, and without as well, to make sure all is well. Alunshay, our King to be, is voe perfected. He watches, and will watch, over all of the Gintu, to keep us safe and well. He speaks and the world listens, as it listens to all voe.

“Thus, vuei are the ones who can be either, or neither, as the case might be. They are the wind, ever shifting and changing.”

“There are more facets than even this," Riviko said as she picked up her teacup. “But as I have said, these are the basics.”

Zelda sipped from her own cup of tea in order to give herself time to think. “So, then.” She set her cut down, twisting it until the handle was just so. “I would be voe?” She felt a little grateful that Gandin had humored her last month in their conversation about that.

“If you were Gerudo, and we were in Gintu, yes,” Riviko answered plainly. 

Perhaps at a later date Zelda would allow herself to ask why the Gerudo let such a misconception stand, if vai and voe weren’t actually words for men and women. “Then...how do you tell, what someone is?” The words didn’t feel right to Zelda, but she wasn’t sure there was a better way of asking what she wanted to know.

Geitaifi grineed. “A question which transitions quite well into a lesson: clothing and it’s meaning…”

-

Link ducked under Anure’s practice blade, his own darting out quickly, forcing her to dance away to avoid the blow. They circled each other, giving Link a brief glance at Zelda and Ikafu on the other side of the practice hall—Anure and Ikafu both had declared it was too cold outside now to practice there, though it was only the beginning of autumn—going at each other with quarterstaves.

The hiss of Anure’s blade drew him back to the bout at hand, he locked crossguards with her, attempting to leverage the blade out of her hands. It almost worked, but at the last second she appeared to become a swirl of hair and fabric, disconnecting from him and forcing him to fall back in order to recover.

Footsteps coming down the hall distracted him, and he held a hand up as Anure charged towards him. She slowed to a stop at the agreed signal, but didn’t seem too happy about it. Zelda heard it soon after, if the break in her own spar was any indication.

A minute later, Eemid walked into the practice hall, gray eyes scanning the room before he bowed to Zelda. “Your father wishes to speak with you, Your Highness.”

Leaning against her staff, Zelda looked at him for a long moment. “Is this about the fight training?” She almost sounded cross. “I’ve been doing it for three months and now he protests.”

“I do not know your father’s mind, Your Highness, I only fulfil his wishes,” Eemid replied with another bow.

“You’re right,” Zelda sighed, the fight draining away from her. “Well, as long as he doesn’t mind me reeking of sweat and not flowers.” Next to Link, Anure sniggered. “I guess I can go see him now.” She handed her quarterstaff to Ikafu, before walking towards Eemid, Impa following behind like a silent shadow.

As they left the hall, Link made to follow, but Anure stopped him with her sword. “You will stay,” it sounded almost like a command.

“I don’t listen to you, I follow the Princess,” he replied, knowing Anure probably only understood half of what he was saying.

“She is guarded well enough,” Ikafu supplied.

Link made a face, disliking that she was right, and that she was siding with Anure.

Anure stepped around him, until she had the tip of her sword pointed at his throat. “We understand you follow her and do as she bids, but we also see that you worry about her, overmuch. If you wish to be a good guard, you must focus on what is in front of you, and not dwell on the worry. It is an enemy when it overstays its welcome as it does with you. So you will remain, and continue to spar with us.” Her brown eyes narrowed, daring him to argue back.

Instead, Link rolled his shoulders and held his sword in the guard position.

Ikafu darted in, faster than he could blink, staff poised in attack.

-

Link wasn’t surprised that, about an hour later, he was summoned to Zelda’s chambers. She must have just finished bathing herself, for her maids were still fluttering about as Zelda sat in front of her vanity, and the room smelled of lavender and rosemary.

“You all can go,” Zelda announced when Link stopped by the door.

“Princess…” Civie began to protest.

“Civie, I’m certain should Link suddenly decide to try something, Impa will be more than enough to stop him,” Zelda interrupted wryly.

Impa snorted from the corner she was standing in. But Civie didn’t protest again, instead bowing alongside the other maids and filling out.

Link arched an eyebrow in silent question.

Zelda didn’t turn around, but her gaze did meet his through the mirror as she drew herself up straight and rolled her shoulders back. “Daughter,” she did a fair impression of the King. “I’ve heard some worrying things, that you’ve been behaving in a rather...unladylike fashion.” Zelda gave an equally unladylike snort. “I’m fairly certain it was a token protest at most, just to make everyone think he did something. Because after I pointed out that in a few years I was going to be nehsen,” she made a face at the word. Granted Link found he didn’t quite like it either, but the Gerudo didn’t have a word for a queen, they only had ‘King’s consort.’ “Of the Gerudo, and as a vai, I am, of course obligated to know how to fight.”

She gave a little laugh. “A few months ago I wondered why they allowed that silly misunderstanding to continue, and here I am using it myself against my father.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t know how to fight,” Link replied. “Think it’s silly that noblewomen and princesses are expected to sit back and do nothing.”

“You’re right,” Zelda agreed, finally turning around. “And as a highborn lady I’m expected to use every weapon, real or metaphorical, to get what I want.” She sighed. “Though I wouldn’t mind a little less complication in my life.”

Link didn’t say it, but he found himself agreeing, clenching his left fist behind his back.

-

Outside Zelda’s window the snow had stopped, thankfully. Though as the sun got lower in the sky, fog began to rise from the moat and the nearby Zora’s river.

Zelda turned her attention from the window to her mirror, wondering what she was going to do for her hair for tonight. Impa usually did it on Nayru’s Day—with all Zelda’s maids being given the day off to attend their own houses—but Zelda felt she was old enough now to do it herself. With a sigh she began parting it with a brush, today was supposed to be about simplicity, so perhaps just Hylia fashion…

She was almost done with the first ribbon when something wet and cool pressed against her ankle, drawing a little yelp from her. Looking down she glowered a little. “I already fed you, boar,” she chastised. Using the same ankle she nudged him away. “Let me finish and I’ll carry you and give you all the cuddles you want.” It’d taken a little work to convince the priestesses at Nayru’s temple that her boar wouldn’t be a distraction during Zelda’s vigil tonight, and could even be considered a sign of good luck—for boars and pigs were Din’s creatures, so what better companion to have when Zelda lit the new fire come morning?

When she finished with her hair, Zelda looked at her reflection, frowning a little at herself. Even with her body changing, she felt like a child playing dress up; she bit back a sigh as she stood, knowing there wasn’t much she could do to change that feeling. She smoothed out the wrinkles of her simple blue dress, checking that her steel and flint were where they should be, before pulling on the yellow wool shawl she was allowed.

Scooping up her boar she let him settle into her arms before finally stepping out of her room.

Link, Impa, and Ikafu were waiting for her, and without any of them speaking a word, they fell in behind her as she began making her way down to the castle entrance.

They encountered only a small handful of guards, everyone else, servant and noble alike, had gone to their own homes for the holiday. They met Father and Eemid at the doors; Father looked tired, but he’d been in Court since dawn, hearing the last of the year’s grievances and petitions, as well as issuing pardons.

He gave her a nod, then he and Eemid fell in behind everyone else as they left the castle. The walkways had been cleared of snow, but the stone was still cold under her feet as she walked to Castle Town proper. Soft voices drew her on, the townsfolk singing one of Nayru’s hymns.

Said townsfolk had gathered along the sides of the dark streets, only the barest sliver of moonlight peeking out of the clouds to provide something resembling illumination. Zelda knew the way to the temple by heart, however, and even if she hadn’t, the path she walked had been carpeted with fragrant boughs of cedar and pine.

“Din’s balls,” Ikafu muttered behind her. “I didn’t realize I’d miss the desert cold,” a perennial complaint with the Gerudo these past few months, and even still Zelda found herself smiling a little; though she too was getting cold.

Link must have replied, otherwise Ikafu’s next words made no sense. “Keep those sorts of comments up, and I’ll trounce you next session, little vuei.”

Zelda bit her cheek hard to keep from laughing. Only letting herself speak once she felt she had it under control. “You two keep this up and I’ll start laughing, hardly appropriate behavior for Nayru’s chosen.” She shifted her hold on her boar, the weight of him starting to grow uncomfortable. They’d be at the temple soon, thankfully.

Also thankfully, Ikafu and Link fell quiet, letting Zelda project the quiet calm she was supposed to.

The doors to Nayru’s temple stood wide open, and Zelda walked in, only Link and Impa trailing behind her now. Though even they stopped when they reached the doors to the inner sanctuary, where the head priestess was waiting for them.

She bowed deeply. “Greetings Princess Zelda, Nayru’s chosen.”

Zelda bowed back, taking the opportunity to put boar down as well. “Greetings to you as well, Priestess Thari. May the coming year grant you much wisdom.”

“And may Nayru bestow upon you her blessing,” Priestess Thari replied. Turning she opened the sanctuary door.

Boar trotted in after Zelda as she entered. The inner sanctuary was chilly, and on the dark side as the door was closed behind her. She could still make up the pile of wood that would become the new year’s first flame, and the statue of Nayru herself, draped in garlands of mistletoe and winter pears; their sweet scents perfuming the air.

Kneeling in front of both, Zelda took a deep breath before bowing her head and beginning to pray.

Not that she had many to give this year, and once she finished she gave a small sigh. “This is the worst part,” even though she was alone, she found herself whispering to boar; as if someone might disapprove of her speaking normally. “Waiting until sunrise when I can do something again.” She rechecked her pocket for steel and flint, still there.

He gave a snuffling-squeal, then went to go explore. Zelda gave a little huff.

She didn’t know how much time passed before she let herself begin to ramble. “I wonder what Alunshey ’s doing, do you think he got the birthday gift I sent him on time?” That the Gerudo didn’t celebrate the same New Years as everyone else had caught her off guard a little, but it made a sort of sense considering their allegiance to Din.

“I hope he likes it.” Zelda chewed on her lip. She’d spent the last month painstakingly stitching it out, and had nearly thrown it out at least once a day in dissatisfaction. Was it too presumptuous to do a Hylia flower pattern instead of something more Gerudo? Perhaps she should have gone through the effort of trying to combine the two styles, even if that would have meant... her boar gave an ‘oink’ and she had to huff at the distraction. “Easy for you to say, you’re a pig.”

Well there was likely no more use trying to worry about it now, the handkerchief was likely in his hands, and Zelda would know what Alunshey thought in his next letter. 

The cold and the aching of her body began to make itself known, and Zelda carefully stretched while trying to stimulate warmth. She could use magic, but even a little hummed spell would be frowned upon—even if Nayru was the Weaver of Magic herself—this was about enduring after all. The last of the years darkness and cold, before the promise of the new year’s first dawn.

Zelda bit back a yawn, pinching the skin between her fingers in an effort to keep herself awake. The Head Priestess wouldn’t tell if she caught Zelda sleeping come morning, but Zelda would still know and be displeased with herself over it. 

In an effort to keep herself awake, Zelda tried to think of any still-ongoing problems she had that she should possibly let go of. None came to mind, but there was her now old mystery of the golden light.

As Impa had promised, she and Zelda had returned to Great Hall as soon as they were able—even nine months later Zelda had a shiver at the memory. Much to Zelda’s displeasure there hadn’t been anything. Magic was like flour, when you used it, it was easy to see where—unless, of course, it was hidden inside something else—but there hadn’t been any sort of sign of magic being used at all. If Impa hadn’t confirmed it, Zelda would have thought she imagined the golden light.

If she hadn’t figured it out yet, there was the potential that she never would. Perhaps it hadn’t been magic at all, though Zelda could have sworn it was.

“Letting it go,” she muttered to herself. “Is it really that important after all?” She shook her head in answer to her own question. “There are bigger problems and future mysteries for me to focus on.”

This time she couldn’t hold back her yawn. Not helping her feeling of tiredness was the fact that her boar came and settled against her hip, snuffling as it nestled closer and closed it’s own eyes. “Just a few minutes,” she promised herself as she closed her own eyes. “Just enough time to regain some energy…”

...The world was a roar of magenta and black flames, screams rent the air around her, though she could see nothing but the flames around her. She began to move, but something curled around her. “Hello, little one,” the voice grated against her ears, harsh as lye, worming its way into her soul.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was screaming. Yet her voice was calm when she spoke. “Who are you?”

“We are Destruction and Death, We are the Great Consumer, We will take you soon, Hylia’s get. If a Sister could not stop Us when We were weaker and younger, what hope do you have? What hope have you ever had? Death cannot be killed.” A claw teased at the corner of an eye.

“Who are you?” Zelda asked again, unable to hide the fear in her voice this time.

Laughter, the sound slithering into her bones and burning them. “How quickly you blink-lives forget. What are We always, wish-to-be-Goddess? What are We but that which you fear, the terror that drinks you down.”

Cold flooded her even as her bones still felt as if they burned. “Calamity-Demise.” She struggled, but it was no use, however she was being held, it was too complete.

 “Yes! Ah, how I have missed you, little wish-to-be-Goddess, perhaps this time I shall finally consume you, young and fresh as you are.” Something warm and slick brushed the back of her neck. Her stomach revolted at the touch, and the pleasure in the creature’s voice. “Consume you, then this little world and the next, and then…”

“And then?” Zelda wished she hadn’t asked the moment the words left her mouth.

“Then the other Sisters,” the voice crooned. “Then, finally, She will wa-“

...Zelda jerked into wakefulness. Before her very eyes the bonfire roared into life in a conflagration of magenta and black, the heat filling the space. Still half-panicked, she scrambled away from the fire. Only to stop and vomit as the vision settled in her mind. She hugged herself as she shivered, already her mind was struggling to contain it, she could feel it peeling away at her, as corrosive as Calamity-Demise’s Malice was said to be.

Something warm nosed at her knee and she shrieked, her heart refusing to calm when she realized it was only boar. She pulled him into her lap, burying her face in his still soft hair. It only gave her something to focus on, other than the magenta and black tendrils creeping into her vision. Please, she managed to beg as she felt her mind fracture further.

No. She made herself take a few deep breaths. She wasn’t just going to stay here, losing her mind, hoping someone would come and save her. It took great effort to stand, still clutching boar to her chest.

The back of her neck screamed in pain, and she could feel the skin there begin to necrotize, feel the Malice begin to spread, scarring her.

A hysterical giggle escaped her as she stumbled. “Zelda the Ugly,” she croaked, naming herself. Better she did it before some stranger said it to another and made it a thing of pity, or revulsion. “Zelda the Disfigured.” She could live with that, being Wise didn’t mean you had to be beautiful. “Zelda the Scarred.”

The name rang, bell like, through her. Giving her an odd sort of strength to continue.

As she took another step, she found her frantic mind briefly settled on an old memory: her still alive mother, taking her to Lake Hylia and the ruins of the Goddess’ temple there. How vibrant the art had been, despite the thousands of years, despite the Great Quake that had unearthed it centuries ago. The Goddess’ Chosen Hero standing triumphant in green, his sword held aloft in the Skyward Pose, after having defeated Demise. After surviving…

Survive, survive, survive. Zelda could do that too. Perhaps for now she would be mad and disfigured, but her madness, at least, could be made manageable. Could be something she could control. But first she had to survive.

Link and Impa were just on the other side of the door. If she got to them she’d be able to tell them what she’d learned. Calamity had sisters, had a purpose, wasn’t just a singular being but an aggregate, perhaps...Zelda shook her head to try and focus herself. Perhaps there was a way to...

A warm hand settled on the back of her neck, stopping her and filling her with utter calm, soothing the growing pain of Calamity-Demise’s Malice. “Hush, my daughter,” a woman’s voice rushed over her like summer rain. “Fear not, Calamity cannot touch you, not anymore.” Zelda couldn’t turn around, but she knew who this was behind her, who had stepped into save her.

Zelda could feel her mind settling back into it’s old shape, the vision fading until it vanished completely. Her body healing alongside it, until she was as she’d been before. “I needed that,” she found herself arguing. It had been breaking her, but something in there had been important, important enough to endure such a breaking. Especially when she had the willpower to survive it.

“Such a stubborn daughter my line has made,” amusement filled Hylia’s voice. “You are too young, still, my daughter. Calamity knew this and sought to break you before the Cycle truly began. It was not as important as you think,” she soothed. “You can learn it again, when you are ready, if you so wish to.” Her hand ran through Zelda’s hair. “Sleep again, my daughter. Recall not our meeting, remember only what is needed.”

Zelda’s eyes fluttered shut, mouth too heavy to protest again, she fell back, but the Goddess caught her…

...Zelda awoke, making a face as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up from the cold stone floor. Hopefully she hadn’t overslept and missed dawn, or that the Goddess would be mad that she slept instead of keeping vigil.

A glance out the window told her dawn was nearly upon her, so the Priestess wouldn’t catch her at least. Pulling the flint and steel from her pocket she moved to ignite the tinder of the bonfire, blowing carefully until the twigs began to burn. She settled a safe distance away as the fire moved to consume the logs.

Clutching her shawl tighter, she was grateful for the warmth, even as what she’d learned chilled her to the bone.

Something was coming. And it would be up to her and Link to stop it.

Notes:

MUHAHAHHA

Chapter 5: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Notes:

cw for some blood at the end of the chapter...oop

While Link didn’t bother to actually protest again as he followed Zelda, they still couldn’t quite believe she’d talked them into sneaking out of the castle. Just the two of them.

Even with some sort of magic changing her face, she had to be the most delicate looking boy Link had ever seen—but at least, still a boy. Though... It’d been something of a shock to see her like that. When she’d first told him what she wanted to do, she confessed she’d done it before, if not for quite some time.

So far no one had stopped to wonder why Link, and another page, were going somewhere together this late in the evening. It wasn’t as if it were suspicious—well, Zelda was, a little. 

Link shouldn’t have thought of their luck because the moment they did, they lost it.

“Good evening, Link,” Nabooru’s voice called from the library door. “Who is your friend?”

They turned to find Nabooru inspecting Zelda critically. Link bit back a sigh, clearly tonight would be a bust, and they’d have to go through with Zelda’s wild scheme some other time.

“My name is… Sheik,” Zelda answered. Her voice was not exactly convincing as a young man’s, even pitched low as it was.

Nabooru’s raised eyebrows suggested she wasn’t buying it. “And where are you two going at this late an hour?” She crossed her arms and leaned casually against the doorway, seemingly unconcerned with anyone who might be behind her and wanting out—Link almost hoped someone would come up behind her and want out, because then it might give them and Zelda a chance to dart away.

“Into town.” Using Sign to spell out Sa’suresh wasn’t the most efficient way of going about it. But while the Gerudo did apparently have a Sign of their own, neither Riviko or Geitaifi knew much of it—which seemed an oversight in Link’s mind—so Link had to improvise. 

“What a coincidence. I too have business in town.” She pushed herself off the wall and stepped towards them. “Let me accompany you. I wish to get to know you better, Link, anyways. Gandin spoke quite highly of you.”

Link managed to share a brief look with Zelda, neither of them happy, but having no way of saying ‘no.’ They both nodded.

When they had originally planned this, Zelda said they could go out through the secret passage in the gardens. Link managed to catch Zelda’s eye, tilting his head towards the gardens as they headed to the castle entrance. Only for her to shake her head.

Nabooru seemed intent on following, at least until they got through the gates; the guards gave them odd looks but made no attempt to stop them. “Where is it then, that you two are going?”

“Where are you going?” Zelda returned waspishly.

“A bar,” she replied easily. “Somewhere you are both too young for.” She arched a challenging eyebrow.

“The Great Library,” Zelda sighed. “We both have some free time, and Link agreed to help me look something up.”

Despite Nabooru’s claims of a bar, she continued to follow them. “Truly, the height of youthful entertainment. Though one would think, with it being so close to sunset, this library would be closing soon, Sheik. Nevermind that I have been repeatedly told that the castle’s library is the best in the Realm.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “The Great Library is open for three hours after sunset in the winter. And while the Castle Library is the more varied of the two collections,” the longer she spoke, the less like ‘Sheik’ she sounded, “for the past few hundred years the Great Library is where the historical records have been kept. It’s the only building in town that remained completely unscathed during the Great Hyrulean Earthquake five hundred years ago.” They reached the library grounds and Link found themselves growing calm as they walked through the gardens.

“Supposedly the library was once a temple, one that housed the Master Sword and a gate to the Sacred Realm, though no one’s found any swords. Or anything resembling gates, for that matter. There are still people that will happily tell you all about it, especially the librarians.” She gave a nod to one of them, a Rito sitting behind a circular desk, as they entered. “Granted I also grew up on tales of the Picori who came around once a year to grant the wishes of good boys and girls.” She rolled her eyes, as if to show what she thought of that. “After a few hundred years it’s hard to tell what’s the truth and what’s mythologizing.”

“It certainly has the look of one of your temples,” Nabooru said as Zelda led them deeper.

Link had to agree, the same sort of serenity that had filled them in the gardens seemed to grow; ruined only by a faint itching on the back of their left hand. They grimaced. The mark hadn’t done anything since it first appeared but they wished it would just vanish anyway. Link knew it would be more trouble than it was worth.

They reached the far wall of the Library, but Zelda didn’t seem put off. Instead just turned and began following it, clearly looking for something. She stopped in a place seemingly no different from the rest of the wall and, setting her hand on something, rested her forehead against the stone. Link’s ears twitched as he caught a soft humming noise, not unlike a song. When her humming tapered off, a piece of the stone wall next to her swung inwards, revealing a well-lit staircase leading down.

“Fascinating,” Nabooru’s voice held dry amusement. “And if I tried humming that tune?” Her tone had a note of challenge.

Zelda sighed as she headed down the stairs. “It wouldn’t work—not unless you have one of the sacred instruments. I...I can get away with it because I have royal blood,” she muttered the last part, as if that might stop Nabooru from hearing it.

“Your disguise needs better work, Princess.” Not exactly the reaction Zelda was expecting, from the surprise on her face. “I see I shall have to instruct Anure and Ikafu to up their training. It would not do for Alunshay’s nehsen to be lacking in any aspect, not when there is aptitude for it.”

A groan left Zelda’s mouth. “Father won’t like it.” They reached the bottom of the stairs to find a much smaller chamber, brightly lit but packed tight with shelves. “The royal records.” She chewed her lip. “I think... I think what we’re looking for will be from six hundred years ago. Though we’ll have to search the whole room, I don’t think any of this has ever been organized.”

Her uncertainty didn’t surprise Link, after all she’d already told them.

“You think?” Nabooru at least didn’t sound incredulous. “Even our own teenagers will do outrageous things with little thought, but all of the castle seem to think more highly of you, Sheik.”

Zelda bared her teeth at the older woman. “I think I had a vision last month at Nayru’s Temple, but I have no memory of it, Only that something was coming. Something dangerous.” She marched up to a shelf, eyes narrowing at the titles. “The last time something truly dangerous happened was six hundred years ago, during the Hyrulean Civil War.” She yanked a book off the shelf. “And I am a teenager, not a perfect doll, Raimedo Nabooru. To attempt to be perfection would drive one to madness.”

Link drifted away from them, their own eyes scanning the shelves. Not that they knew what a book pertaining to six hundred years ago might look like, but it was better than hanging around feeling awkward. The back of their hand itched again, surreptitiously Link scratched it against a shelf, but the itch didn’t go away.

In fact, the further along the shelf he walked, the worse it got. Near the end of this set their hand twitched, seeming to grasp for a shelf a little lower. In the hopes that playing along might get the feeling to stop, Link crouched, then reached their hand out and let it grab whatever it wanted.

The book certainly had an old look about it, the edges of the pages ragged and yellowed. A few pieces even floated away when Link opened the book a third of the way through.

….I cannot shake this vision, no matter how I try. I close my eyes and see only his cold golden eyes and hair like blood. I do not know his name but I know he will be the doom of Hyrule if he is not stopped …

Letting out a huff, Link did feel something approaching gratitude towards the strange mark on their hand as they stood. Returning to Zelda, he found her seated at a small table, flipping through another book while Nabooru was scanning the higher shelves. 

Zelda looked up as they cleared their throat and took the book when they offered it. “Link...did you find something?”

“Think it’s a journal. There’s an entry mentioning a vision, and doom.”  

Her eyebrows shot up. She opened the cover and flipped through the first few pages, her hands coming to a trembling halt. “ Goddesses, Link, how did you find this?”

A shrug. They weren’t exactly interested in explaining that they’d been led to it by an itchy symbol on their hand.

“What is this?” Nabooru asked, leaning against the table, and peering at the book upside down.

Zelda closed it and clutched it to her chest tightly, as if wanting to keep it safe. “It’s the diary of Zelda Nohansen, the Great Seer, Zelda the Wise herself. And you just found this on a shelf?” She made it sound as if that were a crime of the highest order.

Link could only nod.

Nabooru grunted. “And for those of us not raised on the history of Hyrule?”

“She bore the blessing of Nayru at the age of ten, she helped end the civil war for good. Her rise to the throne marked a golden era for Hyrule, one that lasted until the Great Earthquake.” Zelda stroked the spine of the diary. “We might have to come back later and hunt for more volumes, but I think this might be where we need to start.”

Another grunt from Nabooru. “She sounds a little boring, and far too perfect. But if you children are done, then I really do need a drink. Saving Hyrule is not part of my job description. You both will be heading back to the castle, yes?”

Zelda gave an absent nod, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“I’ll make sure she stays safe,” Link told Nabooru.

“Good.”

-

Zelda stared at what Ikafu held out in her hands. “What is that?” Disliking how uncertain she sounded. She hadn’t exactly thought Nabooru would follow through with her threat of talking to Anure and Ikafu, but she clearly had.

That appeared to be a heavy jerkin, though one that had been altered to be covered in what had to be hundreds, if not thousands, of little silver disks. Which chimed when Ikafu moved it.

“A training jacket,” Ikafu offered. As if that would be explanation enough.

Narrowing her eyes, Zelda marched up to it and grabbed it, filling the air with chiming as she shrugged it on. Better to get it over with, she supposed. Knowing neither Gerudo would let her slack off because she was a Princess. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Move,” Ikafu answered.

Again, hardly an answer. Yet Zelda did so, filling the air with a racket.

“...Without making a sound,” Ikafu continued, smiling.

Zelda glared, first at Ikafu, then at Link, who was sniggering at her.

“Don’t go laughing yet, Hylian,” Anure said, suddenly next to Link. Zelda bit back her own laughter as Link let out a ragged yelp and jumped away from the Gerudo. “We’ve got one for you too.” She held hers out silently.

Well, at least Zelda wouldn’t be suffering through this on her own.

-

Link didn’t think there could be something in the world more uncomfortable than his page’s uniform, but it turned out whomever’d dug out this costume for Hylia’s Hero was proving him wrong.

The wool itched, like it hadn’t been properly treated before being woven and dyed an unfortunate shade of green. Link shifted trying to ease the itching without scratching. If this kept up he was going to throw himself off Epona and roll in the grass like a dog—at least no one would be able to tell he’d done it. Well, there’d be stains on the leather of his sheath, so no rolling in the grass for him then, unfortunately.

Zelda, meanwhile, in her own heavily embroidered Hylia yellow dress, looked like she didn’t even know what the word ‘itchy’ meant. Link was, perhaps, a little jealous; it was certainly making him regret agreeing to do this for her, even if it meant she’d left the journal of Zelda Nohansen back at the castle—he didn’t know why she kept rereading it after what had to be a dozen times already. He was sure if he suddenly changed his mind, whichever village boy was supposed to play Hylia’s Hero would appreciate it.

He really would rather be wearing anything else, even a choli like their Gerudo guards would be more comfortable than this. At least he had his own boots, and had begrudgingly put on the bracers he’d gotten from Alunshay. 

“Rupee for your thoughts?” Zelda’s voice right next to his ear made him jump. Epona was too well trained to react to the start, though she did turn her head and nip at Zelda’s new mare—a stunningly beautiful grey that’d been a birthday gift from her betrothed—when she got overly friendly.

 Link shrugged. “Itchy.”

She frowned. “You should have mentioned it back at the Castle, we could’ve found you something more comfortable. It’ll only be for a few hours, we’ll have to be back at the Castle by afternoon to prepare for my birthday party,” she made a little face. “I’d much prefer to stay at Lon Lon village for the whole Hylia Day, than deal with insincere well-wishes.”

On their left Anure snorted, clearly uninterested in giving them the illusion of a private conversation. “Scorpions are everywhere, princess, it is good to know how to spot them.” She flicked her high tail over her shoulder. “There will be quite a few who think they have the right to be Alunshay’s nehsen as well, moreso than a Hylian stranger.”

Ahead of them, Riviko turned in her saddle and clicked her tongue. “This is a holiday, if not our own, let us celebrate the good, and not focus on the ill. It will still be there tomorrow.”

Anure inclined her head as Geitaifi rode up between them and her. “A song perhaps, Princess? Hylia must have many, if you people honor her so faithfully.”

“There are,” Zelda answered, chewing her lip for a moment. “There is one that I enjoy, though it’s not wholly appropriate…”

The four Gerudo practically cheered. “You’ve been holding out on us, Princess.” Ikafu teased.

Zelda blushed. “Not in that way,” she protested. “It’s just...not about Hylia, is all.” She straightened, her eyes closing as she began to sing. 

“ I danced in the Void

 ‘Fore the world was begun, 

My dance made the moon 

And the stars and the sun. 

My sisters made the earth, 

And I danced on the land. 

Let me lead you all, hand in hand.”  

Her voice was sweet as she sang, though she quickly drifted off, blushing again. “Sorry, I can’t remember more than that.”

“I’ve never heard that song before .” Link was pretty sure he’d remember a tune like that.

“It’s a Sheikah song,” Zelda answered. “Impa taught it to me, she’d be able to sing the whole thing if she were here. There’s apparently much debate over which Goddess the song is about, though the mention of dancing in the void clearly excludes Hylia from that list.”

“It is clearly Din,” Geitaifi declared. “Why there is any wondering if it could be the other two is beyond me.”

Zelda snorted. “But the oldest stories we have say Din made the earth, and the song clearly mentions that it’s not the subject that does that.”

On Geitaifi’s other side, Anure snorted even louder. “Are you decreeing what a Goddess can and cannot do, princess?”

Finding a smile tugging on his lip, Link nudged Epona forward with his knees, not interested in joining their theological debate.

Ikafu grinned at him as he came alongside her and Riviko. “Smart choice, vuei. Should lightning strike them all, we’ll be well out of the way.”

Link rolled his eyes, fairly certain the Goddesses didn’t actually care. He pointed at Riviko’s bow with an eyebrow raised in question. He had a bow of his own, but as it was part of the Hero’s costume it was a straight curve which was harder to use while riding—it was also perhaps a little more decorative than useful. Gerudo horn bows by comparison were a dream and Link did sort of wish he had one of his own.

Riviko laughed, but handed it and her thumb ring over. “Be nice to it, though not too nice, don’t want it thinking it’s yours instead of mine,” she teased.

He wiggled his pinky at her in good-natured rudeness. Ikafu sniggered as she strung up her own bow. He let out a questioning hum, to which she answered. “More fun to make it a competition, yes? Riviko can pick the targets.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ikafu was winning—Link was close behind however—and the sounds of singing floated towards them from the village. With a reluctant sigh Link handed Riviko her bow back, then prepared himself for what was to come. 

-

Zelda sat primly on the makeshift throne that had been provided for her, watching the dancers in the square as they moved. Their breathless voices joining in with the musicians nearby.

“ Bless the babies in this bed,

Or it shall be for naught.

The regiment, the new firmament,

Hylia bless the whole damn lot.”  

“Lady?” Looking down from the dais, Zelda saw yet another newly married couple, red cheeked and beaming. “Bless us, the both of you?” The woman asked, shyly.

Casting a sidelong look at Link, Zelda bit her cheek to keep from smiling at the look of resigned acceptance on his face. “Of course.” 

The two of them held up their joined hands, and Zelda and Link placed their own atop them, Zelda saying a few quick blessings for happiness, good fortune, and love. The couple gave a breathless thanks, before rushing to join the end of the dance. Zelda sang along softly with the musicians as she sat.

“ ...The lot of the Queen of dance. 

For a soul, a soul, a soul cake, 

Dance with death for a soul cake. 

An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry, 

All the fruits of this luminary. 

One for the seed, two for the soil, 

Three for a spin on this mortal coil. 

Four shall shine so brightly  in the sky

And five will make the whole thing right!”

Ikafu was even humming by the end of it, and Link was tapping his foot. Zelda almost found herself wishing she could grab him and pull him into the dancing, instead of the two of them sitting here presiding over it all. At least the field blessings earlier had gone well, even if Link had perhaps looked a little silly holding the Skyward Pose while she’d sung prayers and sprinkled blessed water. But that was Hylia Day, a little bit of ritual silliness and a lot of drinking, eating, and fun.

Her stomach rumbled at the thought of eating. “Ikafu...could you, get some food for me?” Zelda wished she could get it for herself, but as Hylia’s Maiden she wasn’t supposed to do anything for herself, neither was Link, which she was sure was mildly frustrating for him.

Link gave his own enthusiastic nod, and Ikafu let out a huff. “Such a taskmistress you are, Princess. I tremble at the though of you gaining true power. But I must serve, and so I’ll get you both food,” her sigh was exaggerated.

Zelda stuck her tongue out at Ikafu’s back, not caring it was childish.

Birds flew up from the woods nearby, their cries still drowned out by the musicians as they started up another song. A man’s voice rising up in the old counting rhyme. “ I’ll sing you one, oh… ”

The ground shook slightly, making Zelda frown. Moreso when it happened again, and this time didn’t stop. If this was an earthquake, it was a gentle one. Not that Hyrule had earthquakes, excepting the Great Quake. Next to her Link tensed, she followed his gaze and froze herself.

A small group of blins, riding their pig steeds, were racing towards them, weapons brandished.

Before she could unfreeze herself, Link was standing in front of her, drawing his bow and aiming at the blins. Utterly calm while around them the townsfolk began to panic.

To Zelda’s surprise, Link got in more than a few shots, even taking down a few blins.

A hand grabbed Zelda and she let out a scream, cutting herself off when she realized it was Geitaifi. She shook her head when the Gerudo woman tried to tug her away. “I can fight,” she protested.

Geitaifi showed her strength by easily scooping Zelda up, carrying her off. “It’s the work of vai to fight, princess. We voe will have our own work to do, once the battle is over.” Zelda struggled, but it was no use, Geitaifi’s hold too firm.

Zelda’s last sight before Geitaifi pulled her into a house, was of Link, drawing his sword and seeming to glow gold as he met a blin head on.

To Zelda’s relief, Geitaifi did at least hand her a dagger, clearly for the off chance the house was invaded. “Voe?” Zelda hated how strange she sounded in asking that. Now hardly seemed the time to ask, but it was better than worrying about what was going on outside. “I thought all Gerudo were vai, outside the homeland?”

“Yes,” Geitaifi agreed dryly. “But I am far too voe to even think of throwing myself headfirst into a fight, princess. And you are too important to go playing vai, even with the training you’ve received. So we shall be good voe and wait for the end, then go and soothe the injured and give prayers for the dead.”

Biting her lip, Zelda nodded. Sending up her own prayer now to Hylia that there would be no dead to pray for.

The wait now was just as agonizing as the wait had been during the assassination attempt. Except this time there was no Impa to hold her; and she doubted Geitaifi would, even if Zelda asked.

Eventually the sounds of fighting began to die down. Geitaifi stood, practically floating to a nearby window to peer out. Even before she turned around there was a knock on the door, making Zelda yelp and nearly drop her dagger.

It was unlikely to be a blin though, they would’ve just knocked the door in. Geitaifi let the curtain drop, then opened the door. Anure stood on the other side, and Zelda blushed furiously when she scooped Geitaifi up and kissed her soundly.

When the two of them broke apart, they touched foreheads briefly, clearly both relieved they were still alive, before pulling away. Anure gestured for Zelda to join them. “No deaths,” She said, much to Zelda’s own relief. “But many injured. Come.”

The town square was a mess of torn decorations and blood. A few of the burly farmers had clearly set themselves the task of clearing out the blins and their mounts, each hauling one away without complaint. Geitaifi pulled away from Anure and went to where the wounded were being laid out, making herself useful immediately.

Zelda found herself scanning the area, looking for Link’s blond hair and green tunic. She let out a small cry of relief to see him, sitting upright, and rushed to him. “You’re hurt!” There were great rents in the tunic, and blood was oozing from at least one cut, if not many more.

His fingers twitched, as if he wanted to protest, but Zelda was cutting away the rest of the tunic before he could start to form the words. “This might tingle a bit,” she warned. Closing her eyes she focused on the magic inside her, humming the song she’d been taught ages ago. Hoping it would work, even though she didn’t have any of the sacred instruments—not that there were any to have, the Ocarina having left with Zelda the Wise’s Hero and never returning, and Nayru’s Lyre having vanished from the royal vaults a few hundred years ago. Zelda the Wise’s granddaughter, Zelda the Enduring, had had a forgery made, for moral, but barely anyone knew that bit of royal embarrassment.

Thankfully it seemed humming was enough; though likely helped by the fact the cuts had been shallow at worst, if numerous. When she opened her eyes again, she smiled. “Thank you, for protecting me, and the town. You certainly earned the title ‘hero’ today.”

Link’s cheeks turned pink and he glanced away. “Wouldn’t be a good guard, if I ran away from protecting people.” 

Zelda was almost relieved to let out a huff of amusement at his words. Without really thinking about it she cut away the rest of his tattered tunic—thankfully he didn’t protest—and stripped his bloody gloves off as well. Stilling when she saw the back of his left hand. “Link...where did you get this?” She ran her thumb over the Triforce mark, over the golden triangle it contained.

He jerked his hand away. “Few months ago,” he admitted. “After the assassination attempt. Seems kind of pointless.”  

She resisted the urge to gape at him. “Link, this is the Triforce of Courage, you hold a third of the most sacred object the Goddesses gave us. That’s not pointless.” She let out a halfhearted laugh. “That’s what the golden light was, Farore blessing you for your courage.”

Link looked like he might protest, but she continued before he could start to Sign, thrusting out her own right hand. “See, I’ll hopefully bear one piece of it too, if I’m worthy. Likely Nayru’s.” She tapped the other triangle on the bottom. “That’s why I felt like you and I would be able to stop whatever’s coming, the bearers of Wisdom and Courage have done it before.”

Reaching out Link tapped the top triangle on her hand. “What about this one? Who carries that?”

“Power,” she sighed. “And...the last person to hold it...was the Demon King, Ganondorf Dragmire, in Zelda Nohansen’s time. Who knows who might hold it this time?”

“Don’t tell anyone I have this, please?”

Zelda frowned. “Alright,” she agreed reluctantly.

-

...his last words to me as they dragged him away to the Temple for his execution still ring in my ear. “I will return.”

Impa told me to stay away before she went to go with the other Sages, but I didn’t listen. I was the reason this was happening, I owed my people to see it through, as awful as it might be. I couldn’t get into the Temple of Time itself for there were guards at the door, but I hid nearby. Strangely I heard no sounds, not until the doors opened with a tooth-aching slowness some time later. My eyes widened and my stomach turned to see Sage Nabooru step out of the Temple, her feet trailing blood, and the head of the Demon King cradled in her arms.

“My King is dead,” she told the guards, voice hoarse. “As are the others. Now let us all tend to our dead and mourn.” She walked past them, and I have to wonder if she walked all the way back to the Gerudo Fortress.

I...do not know how to feel about her words, that she agreed with everyone else that he had to die, yet still called him her King, and held his head as if it were as precious as a child. Hopefully understanding will come with time.

Already, they are calling me Zelda the Wise, though I do not feel as if I’ve truly earned the moniker. If I were truly wise, after all, would I have not found a way to end this war without more death? Could there have been a path that resulted in reconciliation between we Hylians and the Gerudo? I fear the answer is yes...

“Oh Hylia, you’re alright, Princess.”

Zelda yelped, the diary falling from limp hands as she whirled around, heart racing. Impa, it was only Impa, who scooped her into a tight hug.

“You’re back?” Impa usually left early in the morning on Hylia’s day, only to return early the next morning. “I’m fine, yes,” even to Zelda her voice sounded awkward and stilted. Untangling herself from Impa’s grasp she gathered up her ancesstress’ diary, grateful it hadn’t been damaged, setting it gently on her desk.

“Yes.” Impa’s smile was wan. “Your father called us back after what happened at Lon Lon village. I am sorry I failed you.”

Zelda bit back a frown. “You didn’t fail me, Impa, it was bad luck, is all.” If perhaps a sign that things were slowly growing worse. She found herself sending up a brief prayer that there was still more time. “Link and the others kept me safe.” Her next words were almost about Link, and who he was, but she bit her tongue before she could say anything. She’d promised, and she would keep it, even from Impa.

Impa, of course, noticed. “There’s nothing else you want to tell me?” The woman probed.

“No,” Zelda answered. “It’s...not important to what happened. Just, something I found out about Link.” Her best friend, the Goddesses’ Chosen Hero, it almost made her want to laugh.

Thankfully Impa didn’t press, even as she frowned.

Notes:

The lyrics (although greatly changed) in this chapter come from "Lord of the Dance", and "Soul Cake" by Sam Lee.

Chapter 6: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Sixteen, Link surmised, did feel somewhat different from fifteen. If only because sixteen had them standing in a small chapel in the castle, with Zelda, Impa, the King, Eemid, and Captain Rogan.

“Link,” Rogan’s voice filled the small space. “Child,” Link felt infinitely grateful for that. “Of Romall and Sava. You wish to become one of the Royal Guard? To serve Hyrule and its royal family?”

“I do,” Link answered. This was all just a formality, but that didn’t stop Link from feeling knots in their stomach.

Nodding back, Rogan offered up a shield. Zelda had hurriedly told him it was from some great hero in the past, but Link didn’t believe it. The shield was too shiny and clean to be anything but decoration. Though it was striking in a way, the blue enamel making the red loftwing and the golden triforce stand out all the more.

“Put yer hands on the shield and...oh.” The tips of Rogan’s eyes darkened a little. “Supposed to repeat after me, but can’t sign and keep yer hands on the shield…”

“I think one hand will be enough,” Impa pointed out dryly. Glancing at them, Link could see Zelda was wearing her pest prim face, though her indigo eyes were sparkling with laughter. They did their best to make a subtle face at her.

The King gave an absent nod when Rogan looked to him for agreement.

“Right then, hand on the shield, and repeat after me: I, Link, do hereby swear to serve the royal family.”

It was awkward to Sign one handed, but Link managed. Though no one seemed to notice they changed ‘royal family’ to ‘Princess Zelda.’

“To the best of my abilities, until I am released from service, or until my death. May the Goddesses be my witnesses as I make this solemn oath, and grant me the strength, wisdom, and courage to fulfill the oaths of my office.”

The spaces between Links fingers began to ache as they finished the oath.

Rogan grinned at him. “Then I, Rogan, Captain of the Royal Guard, hereby welcome you into our company, Link!”

With the swearing in done, the King and Eemid appeared to vanish, not that Link minded. Zelda linked her arm in theirs, in a very un-Princess-like gesture and beamed at them. “Come on, I already had all of your things moved to your new room, I hope you like it.”

She nearly dragged them along with more strength than most would think she had, and with a fond smile of their own, Link let themselves be dragged.

The room, when they reached it, was only a few doors down from Zelda’s own. It was small, but Link didn’t mind that. That it had a window of its own was surprising, but they guessed they were high enough up that it was safe. Overall it wasn’t much, a wardrobe, a bed, and a washstand; but it was theirs.

Behind them, Zelda cleared her throat. They turned to find her standing by the door, a faint blush on her cheeks and a small box in her hands. “I...got you a gift. For your birthday, and for becoming a guard.” Indigo eyes hardened a little. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the change either, Link. So you can’t refuse this.”

Link’s smile turned rueful as they walked over to her, they were the same height now, which was strange to realize; though Zelda apparently still had some growing left, and Link didn’t know how to feel about being shorter than her. “It was the right thing to do,”  Link answered easily before taking the box.

It was a pair of earrings, gold with emeralds for Farore, Link was sure. Part of them did want to refuse, but they shut it away before it could even try to speak. Closing the box, they smiled at Zelda. “Thank you,” could at least be done one handed with ease.

She caught their left hand between her hands, her own empty Triforce mark covering their own. “I don’t want you to die for me,” her voice was sad but serious as she spoke. “The Hero of Courage is supposed to do great things and vanquish evil, but...I don’t want that if it means I lose you Link. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to mourn you until we’re both creaking and ancient, understand?” Her cheeks pinkened, but she didn’t look away.

They gave a slow nod.

“Good.” Her smile was watery as she let their hand go. “Now I have tea with my ladies-in-waiting in half an hour,” she made a face. “Which will truly be the worst duty a guard has ever faced on their first day.”

Link gave those words the snort they deserved.

Seconds later, and Link was alone in their room. Carefully they set the earrings on the little shelf by the bed. Hand drifting over to run across the chainmail and blue woollen tabard that served as the internal uniform of the Royal Guard. Their fingers caught on the silver embroidery depicting a loftwing, and hoped they’d be able to keep the promise they just made to Zelda.

-

Zelda very carefully and deliberately walked through her rooms to her bedroom before burying her face in her hands and groaning. Why, of all the visions she could have gotten, was kissing Link on the cheek important?  

-

Gandin sat, naked and humble before the Goddess, while the Chief Guides, and her Earthly Mother anointed her. The brushes tickling her skin, while the paint made it itch. Their murmured prayers filled her ears as they finished.

After collecting the paint pots, the Chief Guides bowed and left, leaving her alone with her Earthly Mother, the Great Sage herself. “Drink,” she handed her a small bowl full of cloudy liquid.

It tasted awful, and the Sage let out a little laugh at the face she made. “It is poison, it shouldn’t taste good,” she pointed out dryly. Standing she bent down and kissed Gandin’s hair. “Your Mother is watching out for you, my child. I will see you in the morning.” Giving her own bow she departed as well.

Exhaling slowly, Gandin lay down, waiting for the poison to begin its work. Hoping that the Sage was right, that her Mother was looking out for her, that she would shed this false-spirit she’d worn all her life and become who she was meant to. That her people would have a King once more. That he would lead them towards the greatness they deserved.

The world began to grow hazy, and her body felt heavier than it should. She gave an exhale, and she felt her spirit leave with it…

The desert is vast, eternal. The sand does not shift under feet when they move, the spirit too light, ephemeral, there is laughter in the air at the realization. With ease, movement turns to dancing, bodiless voice raised in praise to the Mother who gave this opportunity. 

The desert is empty, but there is no loneliness. The Bright Eye of the Mother watches over all, there is nothing to fear.

Sand turns to hard earth, cracked and dry as the dance continues. There is no more emptiness, a shape of fire waits in a shadow. “Death waits ahead of you, it always does,” fire crackles. “The only choice is who rules whom.”

“I rule, for I will be King.”

Laughter becomes a cold wind, though even that cannot touch bodiless spirit.

The cracked earth leads to a canyon, to a pile of ruins. Another spirit sits on a rock, he spits, and the earth cracks further where it lands. His neck blazes an eerie light, though it does not shine as bright as the hate in his eyes. “The next one, eh? There’ll be a hole in your heart if you survive, one nothing can fill. ‘Least I never found anything, doubt you will, even with the world ripe for the picking.”

This is already Known, a piece of the History: the Alunshay which the Hylians called Demon King, had a hole in his heart, but we loved him still. Knowing it would not be enough. There is nothing but to meet the past, this other facet, head on. “Then I will endure, and hope the satisfaction is comfort enough.” A hole in ones heart did not make one evil.

“Che. We all say that. Better to hope you’re lucky enough to keep yourself, better like me than some of our other selves.”

Canyon leads to a cave. Darkness pulsing magenta the further descended. The Cave opens into a garden of bones. A knee deep slog, the rattle of movement doing nothing to drown out the voices. “YOU WILL CHOOSE.” The voices of a hundred hundred Kings speak; all who had been before, all who will come after, guiding. 

They lead to a statue, covered in writhing black and magenta, the features obscured. In one hand is a sword, the other, a trident. “CHOOSE.”

For a moment, the black and magenta draw away from the head of the statue, revealing no face at all. The head of the statue cranes back, only for the black and magenta to rush back, yanking it down.

“CHOOSE.”

The sword is huge, but suited for the size of the body, the violent elegance of it tempting. The eye-stone in the hilt winks, and a long tongue slithers out from the pommel, giving a wave. It...disquiets.

The trident does no such things, only gives off its own baleful air.

Steps towards the trident, bones rattling with each one. Curiosity, when there is a thunk.

Down among the bones is a hammer, as if the crafter of the statue had only stepped away and would return soon to finish the work. Or this is the crafter, and the job is to be finished, to make the statue not a shape, but a person. Fingers curl around the hammer.

The world roars...

Body and spirit reunite, and lungs work to remember to breathe. His...yes, his—to hold that truth finally a relief—his body ached, and he stretched slightly to ease it.

Paint flaked away as he moved to sit, turning to bow to his Mother.

Rising he walked to her, kissing her cheeks as he murmured prayers of thanks. When he finished, he turned his attention to the two crowns she offered.

The one in her left palm was a near circle of pins, chains connected to each section, ready to attach to a gemstone.

The one in her right was a circlet of two golden serpents entwined, their heads resting on either side of an empty recess. The serpent whose head faced downwards was serene, while the one facing upwards appeared ready to attack the other, their eyes glittered with tiny chips of ruby.

He had a hazy recollection that this was not the first choice he had made, but that did not surprise him. Even such as he could not recall what fully happened in visions. This choice was an easier one, however. For there was no war, and there would not be a war. The gold of the serpents was heavy and cool against his hands as he picked it up and set it upon his loose hair. The weight wasn’t quite right, but it wouldn’t be until he put his stone in the recess.

He stepped out of the Colossus into the desert. The rising sun had yet to warm anything, but he found it didn't bother him as it once had. As he returned home, he sang songs to his Mother as her eye began to rise higher in the sky.

Even as he sang, he found his thoughts turn to Zelda, likely in the middle of her New Year celebration. There had been birthday wishes, and prayers for good luck, in her last letter; though no gift. He recalled an old promise to return to her when he was King, and hoped he would get to keep it—and perhaps she sent no gift because she wished to to give it to him in person. Hopefully there might be some time that could be carved out before her fifteenth birthday.

A strange itching began underneath his skin, distracting him. Too much magic, he realized, building up inside him. With a shout he released it, the sand in front of him exploding upwards and outwards. A laugh of delight escaping him.

The palisade of home appeared in the distance, and he focused himself.

At the gates he was met by his Earthly Mother and the Great Guides once more. The Sage stepped forward and spoke. “Who are you, oh crowned stranger, to seek entrance to our home?”

“Oh, my people.” He spread his arms wide. “I know I have been absent for many years, but do you not recognize your King when he stands before you?”

“If you are our King,” the Sage replied. “Then show us the mark of your Mother, the sign of her Blessing.”

He raised his right fist, showing the back of it to all of them. A golden triangle flared at his will.

The murmurs of the people behind the Sage and the Guides spread like dye in water into the home. And even though the Sage had not pronounced it, he could still hear voices begin to rise in song. “Let the world know joy,/ for our King has been returned to us…” “...from the depths of the desert you shall rise,/ and thy people deliver…” 

The Sage stepped in front of him, taking his fist into her hands, kissing the Goddess’ mark. “Truly you are the son of our Goddess, the Lord of Might, and our long awaited King.” She stepped back, before offering him black fabric, which he wrapped around his waist.

Singing, voices, all was lost within a cheer that shook the very earth. He was home, and the Gerudo had a King, once more.

It was enough that he could barely notice the sinking need for more.

-

Evening fell on the other side of the desert, in the, perhaps unoriginally named, Merchant’s Town, people began to settle in for the night.

All save one house, where a magenta light beckoned in those who knew it’s meaning.

Inside were a motley assortment of humans, talking quietly amongst themselves as they nibbled on the provided snacks, waiting for their leader to arrive.

From behind a beaded curtain, a stocky Gerudo woman stepped into the room, all falling quiet as she walked through the assembled people. She turned to them, her magenta eyes appearing to glow with eerie light. “As you have all likely heard, we have failed. Alunshay reached eighteen, and claimed his kingship.”

Voices rose up in anger, quieting when she raised her hand. “But he is not yet the Demon King as he was before, though we can no longer kill him. There are others who still can, thankfully.

“My dreams have told me what must be done. We all must go to the wastelands in the north. There are ruins there that we must uncover, in them we will find a chamber holding what appeared to be a black disk. It is this that will give us the salvation we seek.”

“And Princess Zelda?” A pale Hylian man asked. His question earned murmurs of agreement and worry, for all knew she did not hold the Triforce yet, but would one day. And what would happen to her should she fall under the Demon King’s sway as his bride?

The Gerudo woman gave a grave nod. “Yes, that King Nossalph’s greed and desperation has not swayed him from this terrible decision is still cause for concern. But though we do not know who the Hero yet is, we should trust that he will come to the Princess’ aid and ours, in keeping her safe from any who wish her ill. Including the Demon King.” She spread her hands wide. “Now go, tell those who could not make it of what I have said. Tomorrow morning we all must depart, take nothing except what must be had for travelling, we will meet in the north and seek out these ruins.”

She walked through the crowd again, ignoring the questions her followers asked, and retreating past the curtain. Leaning her forehead against the cool stone wall, she closed her eyes, focusing on the black and magenta pulse behind her eyelids. “It will be done, my Lord.”

-

Zelda chewed her lip, picking up the letter once more she read through it, as if the contents might have changed in the past few minutes.

Princess Zelda,

I must beg your complete and utter forgiveness for the promise I have broken. I know it does not speak well of me as a person, but you also must know that the duties of royalty are vast and many, and take up much of one’s time. Mine more than most, I fear. For while my Gerudo can take care of themselves, there are things only a King can do; and six hundred years without one means there is a mountain’s worth. Perhaps when we meet, you might ask about the number of silver bells I have blessed, though I fear by the time we do meet, the number will be truly incalculable, as grains of sand in the desert. Nevermind the lessons and magics apparently only a King may know, that must now be taught to me.

So I will do my utmost to see all this done as quickly and competently as possible, and hope that when we do meet, you will harbor no ill-will towards me. It has certainly taught me a lesson of its own, that one must think of the consequences of a promise before making it, otherwise the breaking might be more than one wishes to give. 

My portrait is no substitution, but I hope you will keep it close. And as I know you enjoy a good mystery to set your mind to, I give you this: perhaps you can figure a reason why nearly fifteen of my Gerudo have vanished like morning mist, three of them were even amongst my royal guard, to make this all the more troubling.

May we meet soon, and behold each other in true,

Ghananorv fa’Dragahmire

Carefully she said the name aloud, as a Gerudo would. Then as a Hylian hundreds of years ago, with no care for the Gerudo, might; coming up with the same answer she had the first half-dozen times. “Ganondorf Dragmire."

She had read through Zelda Nohansen’s journal enough times now, that she could recall whole sections from memory. Each word a stone in her belly. ...I finally met him, the man from my dreams, the one the boy in green warned me about before I sent him away. I know his name now, when once he was only a title. Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo, and of Demons …

Hugging herself she looked at the statuettes of Nayru and Hylia that sat upon her desk. “Please, let it not be true.” A flare of surprise filled her as she realized she didn’t want it to be true. Didn’t want this...King she’d been writing to, that she’d given gifts and slices of her life to, to be the evil Hylia had warned her about. He had made her laugh, evil shouldn’t be capable of that.

Her eyes fell to the portrait he’d included. It’d been hastily done, but with great skill. His red hair had been pulled back in a complicated looking braid, emphasizing his golden crown, with a vibrantly red-orange teardrop gem held between the heads of two serpents. Zelda’s eyes drifted down, his face seemed sharper than she remembered, though the copper eyes were still the same.

She found herself wondering if the gold paint on his lips was true, or something the artist had added in, either way she felt her cheeks heat a little at the sight of them. Not helped at all by her gaze drifting further down, to his large, and very bare, chest. His arms, she found, distracted just as much: thick with muscle and decorated by more gold jewelry. 

Zelda’s hands felt chilly as she pressed them forcefully against her red cheeks. This was...ridiculous. Her fingers did nothing to hide the image of him from her view, and her eyes continued to linger on curves and planes. Despite her reaction, she still found herself thinking he looked the part of a King, even if by Hylian standards he was indecent—a part of her pointed out that he might be fully naked, and she just didn’t know because the portrait ended at his waist, which did nothing at all to help her situation.

Perhaps...perhaps it was something akin to her own family’s tradition; she forced the thought out, needing to be distracted by something. Zeldas didn’t pop up every generation, but there were at least eight in the family tree, not counting the many branches that had sprung from the main line. fa’Dragahmire wasn’t even a name, just a title, ‘who wears the serpent crown’—the meaning of ‘fa’ escaped her, however. 

“Ghananorv,” she said to herself quietly. “King of the Gerudo, and my future husband.”

Notes:

To quote SaltySaph; "Give that bitch a selfie, bitches love selfies."

Chapter 7: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Notes:

If you're the sort of person not interested in a 16 yo and a 19 yo getting hot and heavy, then you should probably skip the second library scene, just ctrl+F "He managed to shift a little" and you'll be past it.

Quickly looking around, Zelda ducked into the library before anyone could come down the hall, Link a quiet shadow behind her. She did not rush, but her steps were not slow as she walked through the rows of tables, some filled with visiting scholars—who were thankfully too caught up in their own work to look up.

Zelda found herself an empty row—geography, she absently noted—and taking off her diadem, rested her forehead against the books for a moment. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Link standing guard at the end of the row, doing their best to give her a moment of privacy.

After a few heartbeats of just letting herself breath she raised a gloved hand and dug her fingers into the base  of her skull, trying to ease some of the tension there.

She was grateful to have serious work to do, even if it was only petty court and the running of the castle, but time alone like this had grown slimmer as a result. Zelda having to steal what time she could, if only to catch her breath.

In five minutes she would have to go back into the castle, she had a meeting with the Head Cook, Bala, about an upcoming dinner party. But by the goddesses she would have five minutes of quiet and solitude.

Turning her head she stared down the row of books, their ordered spines comforting. Except, she gave a little frown as she realized one was sticking out. She moved to push it back in, only to pull it all the way out when she realized it wasn’t a geography book.

It appeared far too cheaply printed for one, the book already looking like it would fall apart if Zelda breathed too heavily on it. The cover simply read The Adventures of Hilda, vol. 1, with not even an author’s name. Curious why a novel would be shelved in geography, Zelda opened to the first page and began reading.

Hilda patted the neck of her horse, Trusty, as they came upon an inn. She didn’t have much money, but she was certain she and the inn-keeper could work something out.

Handing Trusty over to a brawny stablehand, Hilda entered the inn. The man behind the counter was tall, with grizzled hair and a scar on his cheek. He eyed her with interest as she approached. “I don’t have many rupees, but I was hoping I could have a room for the night? I could perhaps help in the kitchen, or with cleaning to make up for the lack of money?”

“Maybe,” he agreed. Eyes darkening as they lingered on her well-endowed chest. “Let’s discuss it further in my office.”

She followed him into the small room, letting out a little yelp when he pinned her to a wall, his cock…

Zelda let out a little yelp of her own, cheeks burning fiercely as she snapped the book shut.

She knew what sex was, of course, one of her teachers had been tasked with telling her about it when she was twelve. And only a few months ago Riviko and Geitaifi had sat her and Link down to teach the both of them—Zelda wasn’t quite sure which of them had been more embarrassed. Their version of things being vastly different from what her childhood teacher had told her; mostly in terms of enjoying sex, with whom, and how many, one could have sex with, and what to do when someone refused to listen to a ‘no.’

Neither of those things had exactly prepared her for just stumbling across a book possibly filled with sex in the Castle Library.

Link cleared their throat, causing Zelda to nearly jump out of her own skin. Whipping around, she found them right behind her. They’d both certainly taken advantage of Ikafu’s stealth lessons, it was more funny to watch Link sneak up on other guards while in chainmail, however.

“Time to go?” It came out of her in a rush, her heart still doing it’s best to calm down. Quickly she tucked the book into the pocket of her dress hidden behind her girdle.

They nodded, arching an eyebrow in question about the book.

Zelda gave a haughty sniff, and snootily stuck her nose up in the air as she put her diadem back on. “I’m the princess, I’ll steal whatever books I want from the library.”

Link rolled their eyes as they fell in step behind her.

-

Despite the cold of late winter, Zelda still bundled herself up and headed towards the stables, Impa—her shadow for the day—following close behind. Zelda nodded at the stablehands who bowed as she passed; perhaps on the way back she would stop and see Seba—she knew she shouldn’t have named the horse Ghananorv sent her, but she couldn’t help herself.

Past the stables and the dairy was the pigsty. With delicate steps, and holding her skirts up, Zelda walked through the muddy grass around the fence, before stepping up onto the fence itself. She let out a little whistle, drawing the attention of several nearby sows, but they lost interest the moment the boar appeared and trotted up to her, his nose shoving itself into her knees—so it was good this was her oldest, rattiest dress. 

“Hello to you too,” she laughed softly. Reaching through the fence she scratched at his ears, feeling the wiriness of his hair even through her winter gloves. Even though she didn’t quite consider him her pet anymore, she still tried to come visit at least once a month—and would firmly reject any suggestions to slaughter him for this feast or that.

He gave a snuffling grunt, brown eyes watching her as he sniffed along her dress.

She rolled her eyes. “I see how it is, you just want some extra treats.” Reaching into her pocket she pulled out one of the dried apples she’d filched from the kitchen. Boar’s ears perked up, and he sat down with a splat, eyes now watching the apple. She tossed it, laughing again when he only shifted a little to try and catch it, nearly getting it on one of his tusks.

“Princess?”

Zelda could feel her cheeks redden as she turned to find Riviko standing a few steps away. “Yes, Riviko?” She did her best to sound calm, like she met people all the time by the pigsty.

Riviko gave a bow, and Zelda found herself realizing her teacher’s hair was long enough now to be pulled back into a tail—she’d never gathered the courage to ask who Riviko had been mourning for. “I didn't mean to disturb you, but I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?” Zelda asked, caught off guard. While technically the Gerudo answered to her, she was fairly certain if they had problems they went to Nabooru.

“I, I would like to be allowed to return home. I am now expecting, and I wish to bear my child among my family.” She pulled her cloak around her more tightly. Zelda quickly stepped off the fence, much to the boar’s disappointment, and grabbed Riviko’s hands, guiding her towards the much warmer stables.

A quick glare from Impa sent the loitering stablehands scurrying away. “Of course,” Zelda finally answered as she sat on a haybale, gesturing for Riviko to join her. “I would never say no to such a request. Though will it be safe for you to travel?” She knew that was a thing with pregnancies.

Riviko snorted. “I will be fine, Princess, though the concern is welcome. And thank you,” she gave a tight little smile. “I shall tell Nabooru then, and she will send a message to the King to arrange a replacement, and I shall leave when they arrive.”

“Remind Nabooru when she sends this message that Link and I still wish to learn Gerudo Sign, and would appreciate a worthy teacher.”

“Perhaps,” a blush stained Riviko’s cheeks, and she quickly turned away. “Perhaps you could remind her yourself?”

Zelda stared at the older woman for a long moment. “Are you...afraid of Nabooru? But you’re older than her.” By a few decades if Zelda had it right. “Unless, are you afraid she’ll say no to your request?”

“Goddess, no!” Riviko looked horrified by the suggestion. “She will happily send me home when I tell her, it is just...she is powerful, and not just politically. I am...afraid of making a fool of myself.” Riviko looked down at her clenched hands. “She will understand, but I also have my pride.”

“You have no problems talking to me,” Zelda pointed out.

“Princess.” Riviko gave her a wan smile. “I perhaps see you more as my own vehvi than a Princess.”

Another long stare, a strange sort of pleased surprise filling her at Riviko’s words. “I...you honor me.” She didn’t know how she had earned the consideration of being Riviko’s child, could one even earn such a thing? “You have always been a good teacher, and have given me good advice. As a good veunvi should, and I know you will be so once again to your own child.” Since Riviko had admitted it already, Zelda decided to take the risk in asking her next question. “Would you...like me to go with you?”

They shared a strange sort of laugh together, Riviko’s eyes still sparkling when she answered. “If you are not busy, I do not wish to impose if you have other engagements.”

Zelda did have to think for a moment, only to shake her own head. “Not for an hour, and it shouldn’t take us that long.” Unless Nabooru was already busy herself with something else.

Impa’s expression was bemused as she followed them, and Zelda rolled her eyes at her bodyguard.

The little waiting alcove was empty when they reached Nabooru’s office—Zelda was also grateful the rest of the hall was equally empty, otherwise it would have taken them an hour just to get to Nabooru’s door—and there was a terse ‘enter’ from the other side when Zelda knocked. Impa stayed to watch the door, giving them more privacy.

Zelda had never had much chance to be in any of the Ambassador’s Offices, it wasn’t yet part of her responsibilities, and she wondered if they were all so plainly appointed, or if that was Nabooru’s preference. Was there a kind way to ask that? Zelda was certain if it’d been done as a sort of slight, Nabooru would have already fixed the problem herself. After nearly three years, everyone in the castle knew Raimedo Nabooru, as the guards would say, took no blows.

Nabooru looked up from her desk, and frowned a little. “What an odd combination, is something the matter?”

A few minutes later, Zelda and Riviko were seated in the chairs in front of Nabooru’s desk, Nabooru herself returning to her own seat after finally releasing Riviko from a hug. “Of course I shall let you return, Riviko.” She pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and began writing. “At least, once your replacement has been sent. Though I fail to see what the Princess has to do with all of this.”

Zelda did her best not to look away from meeting Nabooru’s intent stare, golden-brown eyes curious. “She told me first, and I decided to tag along so that your king knows that Link and I still wish for a teacher in Gerudo Sign.”

Nabooru’s red eyebrows looked like they might disappear into her hair, though she didn’t test this story further, to Zelda’s relief. Instead she finished writing, likely a letter to the King. Zelda expected her to pull out sealing wax and a crest, just as anyone else would. Frowning a little when the woman pulled out a needle instead.

She pricked her finger, letting a few drops of blood fall onto the parchment, before folding up the letter. Then took the chimney off the lamp, holding the letter to it until it was consumed in a flash of fire.

A yelp of surprise left Zelda, and she flushed in embarrassment when Impa’s voice floated through the door a second later. “Princess?”

“I’m fine,” she responded, eyes still a little wide. “What did you do?” She would have thought Nabooru would send that letter to...Ghananorv, Zelda made herself think.

“Four weeks is far too long to wait,” Nabooru replied easily. “Not when I have a faster way available to me.”

Zelda frowned. “That was magic? Could you teach me?” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Riviko cough into her elbow. Zelda didn’t know why that was funny.

Nabooru eyed her. “Hylians usually get, hmmm, antsy when things like ‘blood,’ and ‘ghosts,’ get bandied about in regards to magic. But yes, it could be taught to you, though it won’t do you much good, not unless you wanted to send messages to your father.”

“So it only works with family?” Zelda reasoned out. “Wait...you’re related to Ghananorv?” She was relieved she said his actual name, and not ‘Ganondorf,’ which her mind wanted to default too, much to her shame.

Riviko gave up on trying to hide her laughter, earning her a sidelong look from Nabooru. “His elder sister, yes.” Before she could continue there was a flash of black, when it faded there was a letter on the desk. “Which I never let him forget,” Nabooru continued seamlessly as she picked the letter up. “Much to our blessed King’s eternal frustration.”

Opening the letter she skimmed it over. “The king will choose a replacement tomorrow, to leave the day after. A healer will arrive with them, to escort you back, Riviko.”

Who managed a little half-bow in her chair. “Our King’s forethought is appreciated.”

“If that is all, you should go. I have a meeting with Ambassador Itos shortly, and must prepare.”

Riviko stood and gave another bow, while Zelda inclined her head. Her mind awash in thoughts as they filed out.

-

Even though it served no purpose, Link found herself smoothing down her tabard before she entered Zelda’s receiving room. Even though she was welcome to come and go as she pleased as Zelda’s guard, when she was asked to come in she felt compelled to make herself look presentable.

In the end she needn’t have bothered, because it was only Zelda and the Gerudo, including a newcomer in a deep blue kaftan, and a curious spray of green feathers in her—though Link was certain if they were in the Gerudo homeland it would be his—long red hair. She stood in front of Zelda, holding a letter and gave a little start when Link came to stand beside Zelda. Deaf, Link realized quickly; since she wasn’t facing the door, she hadn’t known Link had come in.

Zelda took the letter from her and opened it, giving a thoughtful hum. Handing it over to Link when she finished.

It was a short one, thankfully. This is Demal, she is deaf, though can read lips fairly well so long as you speak sa’suresh. I know she will make an excellent teacher for the both of you.

Standing, Zelda clasped Demal’s hands in her own. “Welcome, Demal,” she greeted. “Link and I will do our best to learn all you have to teach.”

“Thank you,” Demal spelled out after she eased her hands free. “I will do my best to teach you well.”

-

As far as dresses she’d worn to her own birthday parties, this one wasn’t the worst, in fact she would say it was her favorite if hse had to choose. The dark blue color made her eyes look almost purple, and she was relieved that the Hytopian designer she’d picked to make it understood the word simple. Even the golden embroidery at the collar and hem wasn’t too over the top, only abstract swirls that suggested the shapes of creatures. It matched her hair, which had been carefully braided with indigo ribbons and pinned in coils to her head—oh, to never have to wear a whimple again! She ran her fingers almost meditatively over her girdle, recognizing the Triforces, Nayru’s, and Hylia’s sigils by touch.

He’d understood simple on the dress, but...she turned and sighed at the capelet laying on her bed. She’d wanted feathered embroidery, but instead he’d made it out of feathers. It was quite heavy when she picked it up, though she had to admit the golden feathers floated delightfully when she settled it on her shoulders, quickly doing the breastpin before the capelet could slip completely off her shoulders and fall to the ground.

It didn’t make her look as much as a Rito as she’d perhaps feared, but it was very Hytopian. With a sigh she set her coronet on her head, thankfully she’d been able to talk everyone out of trying to drape her in more jewelry, the dress and capelet was decoration enough.

Link’s knock on the door drew her out of her thoughts, and after giving her skirts a shake so they fell right she answered.

Answering the door, she smiled as she saw him. “You look quite handsome.” Her smile turned into a grin. He did even: he’d been given a burgundy tunic instead of the usual tabard guards wore, though it still bore Hyrule’s sigil in silver. And either someone had bothered to polish his chainmail, or he’d been given a silvered set, for it glittered brightly in the light; it went surprisingly well with his Gerudo bracers. Most pleasing to Zelda though was spying the set of emerald studs she’d given him in the tips of his ears.

He rolled his eyes and offered his right arm, tucking his sword out of the way so it didn’t hit her. “And you look beautiful, ready to smile so much your face hurts?” He replied.

“Yes, better get it over with now,” she sighed.

Link’s assessment about her face hurting wasn’t far from the truth, halfway through dinner she could feel her cheeks begin to ache from smiling as each guild, noble, and dignitary presented her with gifts—though not Nabooru, much to her surprise. She glanced at the older woman, she wasn’t acting like she was planning or hiding something. But she had to be, for Ghananorv hadn’t failed in giving her a birthday present yet. 

Eventually the feast, and the gifts, came to an end, and the dancing began as the small orchestra began to play.

Tradition dictated her father got the first dance, which was for the best, for otherwise he’d likely be too far into his cups.

“You look more like your mother every day,” he said as they whirled around the dance floor. “I know she’d be proud of the young woman you’ve become, my dear.”

“Thank you, father,” Zelda answered, strangely touched. Doing her best to adjust to the way her capelet acted almost like a counterweight to her movement. She was sure it looked quite dramatic, but it wasn’t doing much to help her keep her poise.

The dance ended and she gave a curtsy, excusing herself to the table of drinks. The wine was a bit too dry, but if she took small sips it was tolerable.

Hours passed in a blur, and soon her feet ached as much as her cheeks, but as much as she wanted to, it wouldn’t do for the guest of honor to sit.

Relief came in the form of a commotion at the doors to the ballroom. She wasn’t the only one to turn her attention toward it, especially when the Crier, looking quite disgruntled, reappeared. He slammed his scepter on the ground, the orchestra trailing off in surprise.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, all assembled. His Majesty.” Zelda’s heart dropped suddenly. “Ghananorv, King of the Gerudo.”

The doors opened, and in he strode, dressed in unrelenting black. His clothes—surprisingly Hylian in style—and his height, made him eye catching, even as he cut through the crowds. Towards her.

As he got closer she noticed more: like how his braided hair now reached his knees, a golden ring attached to the end, that appeared to match his crown; that he wore more makeup than even she did, gold painted on his lips and around his eyes, made more striking for the thin beard against his chin. His ears practically threw off rainbows of colors, and Zelda was fairly certain she even saw a glimmer of red against his nose.

He came to a stop in front of her—at least now she came up to the middle of his chest—she didn’t even have time to try and crane her head back to see his face for he knelt in front of her, the clink of the ring in his hair hitting the ground filling the unnatural quiet of the room.

“Princess Zelda.” Even though he had his head bowed, she could make out his copper eyes peering at her through thick lashes. “I greet you as Ghananorv fa’dragahmire, King of the Gerudo and Alunshay. It is an honor to meet you at last.”

A spate of whispers spread through the room, for he should have greeted her father first. She was more than certain, however, that Ghananorv knew exactly what he was doing. “I greet you King Ghananorv, unexpected as you are. I bid you welcome, and hope you will partake of our hospitality.”

Her words earned her a flash of a smile, bright against his brown skin and gold lips. He stood, turning him from a reasonable height into a giant again, offering her his hand. “May I have a dance?” His deep voice was pointed. Zelda bit her cheek to keep from laughing as the orchestra nearly made a cacophony to start a new song.

“You may,” she answered. Setting her hand in his and letting him lead her to the floor. Hand settling under her capelet against the small of her back as they began to dance. Her own hands settled on his arms by habit, surprised to find soft velvet under her fingertips.

“You’ve grown, my princess” She jerked her head up at Ghananorv’s voice, meeting his gleaming copper eyes. There was appraisal in that look, and Zelda wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, or the possessive pet name.

She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve grown, too, my king,” it was perhaps a little snappish, but she felt she was allowed. Thankfully there were no other couples nearby to overhear them bickering; their graceful dancing making a good lie that all was well. “By the time we wed, I fear you shall scrape the ceiling.”

If she’d been afraid he’d grow annoyed at her own familiarity and biting tongue, she was soon proven wrong. His eyes flashed and he somehow pulled her even closer, making her stumble; but he was steady enough for the both of them. “My deepest apologies, princess. I shall endeavor to control my biology from here on out.” He gave her that lightning grin she remembered.

“I fear it’s already too late,” she told him. “Should you stand at the bottom of the dais, and I atop my throne, I would still have to crane my neck to kiss you.”

He laughed, the deep and rolling sound drawing attention. There was no more appraisal in his gaze, only impish delight. “So you’ve thought of kissing me, hmm?”

“Perhaps,” she replied airly. “Perhaps I have thought of kissing other people as well.” Not quite the truth, but she found she couldn’t help herself.

“Is that so, my princess?” He let out a strange rumbling sound, one that made her all too aware of their bodies, pressed almost too close together for comfort. “Tell me, do you still enjoy learning?”

A frown crossed her face at the strange question. “Yes,” she answered slowly.

“Then perhaps we could avail ourselves to somewhere more private, so you might learn how well I kiss, and I can erase the thought of anyone else from your mind.” She flushed under the burn of those eyes.

“That is highly improper, my king,” she murmured, her blush racing down her neck to vanish into her collar. She could feel his eyes tracing the path, which made her blush more furious.

“That does not make it any less enjoyable, my princess,” he answered easily. “In fact, one might argue that it makes it more enjoyable.” The hand resting at the small of her back shifted just a little bit lower. Not exactly cupping her rear, but certainly implying he might. It did not move any lower, and Zelda didn't know whether to be relieved or not. Ghananorv’s challenging eyebrow suggested not.

Up in their gallery, the small orchestra ended the waltz. Ghananorv’s hands seemed to vanish as they stepped apart. She curtsied, he bowed, and Zelda took a reckless chance. “The library, five minutes,” she whispered, trying to fight back her blush into something more respectable. “I’ll follow shortly after.” If people saw them leaving together Zelda was certain they would instantly know what was up.

To her surprise he gave no triumphant grin, only a brief nod. His eyes held promise enough, seeming to burn so that she was surprised the copper of his eyes had not melted.

After they parted, Zelda experienced the most agonizing seven and a half minutes of her life. When it was up however, she quietly excused herself from her conversation, then even more carefully she did her best to avoid Link or Impa. Knowing either one would follow her if she tried to leave within their sight. 

It seemed the Goddesses were on her side, for she managed it. Her slippers sushed against the stone floor of the empty hallway, as quickly as she could in her dress and capelet she made her way up the right flight of stairs.

The library door opened without a sound. “Ghananorv?” She asked softly, hoping no one else had taken a shine to some undisturbed reading.

When there was no reply she frowned softly, stepping in and closing the door behind her. Perhaps he’d found a book to entertain himself and was caught up in it; she herself occasionally would fall so deep into a book the rest of the world just disappeared.

A few of the lanterns on the walls had been relit, their golden, magical, light illuminating the front half of the library. “Ghananorv?” She said a little more loudly. She didn’t know if it was disappointment or anger brewing in her chest. He was the one who started this, and he failed to appear? If he was back at the party she was going to hunt him down and...and...kick him very firmly between the legs.

She whirled around, ready to give him that particular piece of her mind. Only to shriek when she realized someone was standing right behind her. Though it didn’t ease her racing heart, her fear did turn to annoyance when she realized it was Ghananorv. Craning her neck back as far as it would go she glowered at him. “Are you done being childish? I thought you were supposed to be kissing me, not giving me a fright.”

“If one does it right, my princess,” he stepped closer, she was tempted to climb onto one of the nearby tables to give her neck some relief. “Fear can make pleasure that much more...vibrant.”

“I’m unconvinced that that is possible at all,” she replied. “Regardless-” She was cut off by her own yelp when he scooped her up. Those too-big hands settled on her rear as he held her against him, chest to chest, and she could truly look him in the eye. “Much better,” she sounded quite strangled. This close she could make out that he did have a gemstone on the side of his nose, a ruby, if she had to guess.

He began walking, to her surprise, his gaze never leaving hers as he took them a little deeper into the library. He stopped, and she found herself being set down on top of what had to be one of the half-height shelves. It did put her a little lower, but it still made things far easier than they would be otherwise.

One of his rough hands settled on her neck, thumb tilting her chin up. “So then, Princess,” he rumbled. “Shall I kiss you?”

Any words Zelda might wish to speak dried up in her throat, forcing her to nod instead.

Ghananorv bent down and brushed his lips against her more gently than she’d imagined. To her surprise, and eventual annoyance, he kept doing it. Until she let out a frustrated noise and yanked him closer by his doublet.

This time his laughter rumbled through her, but she stifled it when she dragged her tongue against his golden lips. He opened them, but as she began to push her tongue in, his own met it and pushed it back, until it was beginning to slip past her own lips.

Kissing in books, Zelda thought absently, did not do justice to the act itself. Her arms moved, one hand remaining in his doublet, the other sliding into his hair, curling tightly amongst the braided strands. She didn’t know where his other hand was, but the one on her throat remained, and she found herself moaning softly at the strange sensation of it.

Zelda didn’t know how long they kissed for, only that it was utterly consuming. In fact the only reason she broke away was because his absent hand settled on her quite bare knee. She jerked her head away from him enough to look down. Her skirts had been pushed up, looking more than a little ridiculous. They concealed his hand in fact, but she could feel it. Calluses catching against her soft skin as his thumb brushed against the very top of her knee.

She looked back up to see him watching her intently, even as he looked a bit silly with gold now smeared across his lips. “Shall I move my hand?” His voice rasped against her too, and she shivered.

“Yes, I mean, no, I…” She made a frustrated sound at her own inability to speak.

His hand remained there. “I can be patient,” somehow that rumbling voice soothed instead of excited. “Just tell me exactly what you wish.”

Zelda let out a slow breath, her hand left his hair, until both were absently straightening his doublet, the simple act helping her focus. “I...I believe I would quite like your hand higher, my king.” She was relieved by her own firm and convincing tone.

Copper eyes flared, and Zelda felt surprised she did not turn to ash. Nor did she turn to ash when his hand slipped higher up, it and half his arm now hidden by her dress, until his fingers touched the thin cotton of her underwear. It startled a sound out of her as the heat in her flared higher.

His fingers stroked and petted at her, as gently as his initial kisses had been. Unable to stop her body she squirmed, falling forward some until she was half braced against him. “I,” she managed to gasp out. “Can do better than that, my king.” Perhaps her panting lessened the challenge of it, but she’d still managed to say it, which was what really mattered.

“If you insist, my princess.” His fingers moved her underwear aside and…

She clutched him tightly and bit at his shoulder to muffle her shriek. He continued to tease at her clit while a finger began pressing against her lips. She knew well how many of her own fingers she could take, but his were so much bigger—she wondered how many he would try to push in…

He kept up his insistent pushing, until she parted around him and he sunk in to the first knuckle. They both let out sounds of surprise. Zelda met his gaze again, an act that felt far more intimate than the fact his finger was inside her. “More,” was her panted demand.

“Greedy,” he growled. “I think I quite like that on you, my princess. Makes me think about what else might make you so.”

Before she could give a tart reply, he began pumping his finger in and out, and a second one began to tease at her entrance. Zelda wasn’t sure she could take it, but she wanted to very much. Her hands scrambled for his face, tugging him down so they could kiss again.

Ghananorv seemed happy to comply, swallowing the sounds she gave him as he continued to move his fingers. Pushing her closer and closer to orgasm.

Achingly slow the second finger began to push in, and she bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. Copper filled her mouth as she pulled away. “Goddesses, Ghan...” She clung to him as he stretched her.

He made a pleased rumble that shook her and made her clench around him. He shoved both fingers deeper in retaliation and she let out a wail. “Close,” she managed to gasp. Goddesses, she needed this, the sensations completely unlike when she’d used her own.

She felt his free hand sink into her hair, certainly ruining all the painstakingly made coils, drawing her closer so they could kiss again.

Which she was infinitely grateful for a few seconds later when the door to the library opened.

“I thought I’d find you both here,” Nabooru’s voice floated lightly to them.

Zelda might have derided his height earlier, but now she found it made excellent cover.

“Nabooru,” Ghananorv’s voice was rough, but no less dangerous sounding.

“I just wanted to tell you that if you’re gone for much longer other people will start to come looking. Ones less accepting than I,” Nabooru sounded utterly brazen and unafraid. “So better make it quick.” The door closed.

Burying her face in his chest, Zelda groaned, utterly mortified.

To her surprise, Ghananorv did not remove his fingers right away. Instead his thumb brushed against her clit absently. “Shall I continue?”

Zelda jerked her face away from his chest, feeling her cheeks burning. “Ghananorv,” even in her mild annoyance she couldn’t miss the way his eyes flared when she said his name. “Your sister just caught us…” Her pleasure scrambled mind raced to find the right word. “...fornicating.” Which hardly felt appropriate for what they were doing, but she could think of nothing else.

“Ah, Zelda, my princess. The only difference between now and a minute ago is that I know we can do not much else, but this... fornication,” he let out a chuckle. “Unless you wish me to stop, I will happily continue.”

Somehow that made her blush deepen. Despite the interruption, her arousal did still linger, and she found she didn’t want to return to the party in such a frustrated state. Taking a deep breath she met his gaze. “Continue,” she said.

He leaned in closer, heat sinking into her as his breath against her ear made her squirm. “It will be quick,” he murmured. “And perhaps not as gentle as you might like.”

“I don’t care,” she replied tartly. “Just-” His fingers moved, thumb pressing against her clit and the two fingers inside her rubbing against something, setting her aflame far more quickly than even she could have imagined. A shriek left her as she clung to his doublet again, shaking as he kept going.

More, more...close, so close... 

A scream was ripped from her again as she finally orgasmed, she slumped against him, feeling boneless and relaxed. She let out a disappointed mewl when his fingers slipped out, and he gave a rich chuckle in response.

He managed to shift a little without dislodging her, much to her relief. In her hazy line of sight she could see him begin to wipe his fingers clean, a glimpse of yellow and green around the hem of the handkerchief making her frown. Though it took her brain perhaps far too long to actually recognize the cloth. “Is that…” her voice sounded almost dreamy, to her own surprise. “Is that the handkerchief I made you when I was twelve?” She was still floating in the aftermath of her orgasm, so didn’t have to decide whether to be pleased or embarrassed to see it again.

“It is,” he answered. “I have treasured it as I have all your gifts. And now it will carry for me the scent of the sweetest flower I have found.”

A choked sound left her, her blush returning. “That...I... oh.”

He laughed again. “Ah, what a conundrum you give me. Whether to hope you grow used to such words and take them as your due, or that they might continue to fluster you in such a delightful manner. Both are tempting.”

Starting to recover, Zelda managed to push herself upright, giving him a half-hearted smack on the shoulder. “In my defense, my king,” she replied primly. “I have not been subject to such flatteries before. I’m sure I shall be flustered for some time yet before I grow accustomed to them.” 

“Not flattery,” he corrected. “Only the truth, a king does not flatter. You flatter me with such sweet replies, ‘my king,’ ‘Ghan,’” his copper eyes were warm as he took one of her hands and kissed her fingertips. “What other names shall I wrest from you, I wonder?”

Zelda was the first to look away, her heart stuttering in her chest. Her eyes looked down, and widened. For even though his trousers were the same unrelenting black velvet as his doublet, neither could quite conceal the...sizable endowment within. A squeak left her, and she bit her lip for a moment, not quite believing what she was about to do. “Will you...be staying long, Ghan?” At this rate ‘blushing’ was going to be her new permanent state.

“Sadly, no.” His fingers grasped her chin, tilting her face upwards. Subjecting her to the heat in those copper eyes once more. “I must return home tonight. Though I would stay if I could, to see how you would reciprocate what I have given you.”

“Oh,” she couldn’t help the mournful note in her voice. “Wait...I should hope you did not travel two weeks just to be at my birthday party.” If he were that lackadaisical a king, why had he not come sooner?

His lips quirked in a smile. “No, Zelda, I did not travel two weeks for your birthday party, and I shall be home before my Mother’s eye shines upon the sands.”

“How?” She didn’t know such a thing was possible.

His smile grew. “Magic, perhaps once you join us in the desert, I shall teach you. If you wish. Now we do not have enough time for such a lesson.” A disappointed sigh left her and he laughed again. “I think you are more disappointed in that, then being able to...handle me at your leisure.”

She gave a little laugh of her own. “Perhaps,” she agreed ruefully. She knew magic after all, for all that she’d read books describing what women could do to men. Looking herself over she sighed, plucking a broken feather from her capelet—though a little grateful it was the only casualty in their tryst. “Help me down?” It would be easier to fix herself standing than sitting. Her face and hair had likely suffered the worst.

Again, she found herself lifted with ease, which made her heart race anew. Once he’d set her down, he plucked the feather from her hand, and to her surprise, tucked it into the end of his braid.

“Someone might figure out what we did,” she found herself protesting. As princess she, perhaps unfortunately, needed to be above reproach. Even with her being betrothed to him, there would be more than a few frowns if people knew.

Ghananorv snorted derisively. “Is it not some tradition or other, that a lady give a favor to her knight? If people question it, would that not be an acceptable answer?” It sounded a little like a challenge.

“Yes,” she answered, understanding his defensiveness. “I’m sorry, I just…” She waved hand. “I do wish a little things here were more like the Gerudo way,” she said. “That is not the case, unfortunately.” She moved away from him to the nearest window, touching her gold-smeared lips briefly, sighing over her hair. Luckily her dress and hair didn’t require a maid to undo, so she would have to come up with no explanation on that end. She met his gaze for a moment through their reflections in the glass.

Returning to him she grabbed his hand and led him back to the tables, grabbing an inkwell, quill, and parchment from the nearest one. Quickly drawing the illusion sigils Impa had taught her ages ago on the parchment for him. “If you draw these on you somewhere while imagining what you want to look like, it will hide your appearance for a few hours. Quicker than trying to find a powder room, for either of us.”

Filling the quill she rolled up her sleeve, taking a deep breath to focus herself and her magic she wrote them as lightly as she could on her arm, picturing herself as she’d been when she’d stepped into the library. As she finished the last stroke she felt the magic settle against her, warm and comforting. “See?” Carefully she blew on the ink to get it to dry faster.

“Impressive,” he hummed.

Refilling it for him, she offered the quill. He took it carefully, studied the sigils she had written on the parchment, then to her surprise raised the quill to his face, drawing the symbols across his cheeks, reversed even, so that it read properly for her. The sigils glimmered for a moment with a golden light, before they disappeared, leaving him as he’d been in the ballroom—even hiding the feather.

“Thank you, all looks well.”

His smile looked a little strange under the slight filter of the magic, but it would look better with brighter light she knew. “Thank you for the lesson. Shall you return first? Or I?”

“Me, I think,” she answered sadly. “And then wait a moment before you follow.” Carefully she pulled down her sleeve to cover the marks.

“As you say, my princess.”

-

Link was certain his teeth had been ground down to the roots by the time he found Zelda, expression placid as she appeared at the bottom of a set of stairs. “Where have you been? ” 

“I needed some fresh air, and privacy,” she lied. Almost convincingly, if it’d been a normal guard who caught her, she would’ve gotten away with it. As it was, Link could see the illusion magic shimmering over her, hiding something. Not that most would be able to see it, perhaps it was the only good quirk of the mostly quiet Triforce of Courage.

“Still should’ve told me. Why are you covered in magic?”  He was more relieved that she was alright than anything else, not that that was good.

“I wanted to be alone,” she replied a little testily. “I can defend myself, and send you a distress call without anyone realizing it if I absolutely had to.” Her tone gentled as she continued. “You’re right, I did get tired of smiling all night.”

Most of that was true, but she was lying still. “What happened? ” Something had to, for her to use magic and try to lie to him.

She let out a sigh. “Link,” now at least she sounded fond, if mildly annoyed. “I...Nothing happened that I didn’t ask for, alright? Just...leave it at that, please?” She reached out and set her hand on his shoulder, the weight delicate.

He let out a sigh of his own. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“Thank you.” She graced him with a full smile, before bending her head down and kissing his cheek. She pulled away suddenly, her own cheeks pink. “Oh.” Before he could question her, though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to Sign even if he wanted to, she vanished into the crowd. Heart stuttering, Link found himself reaching up to touch his cheek. Frowning when he saw it came away dusted with gold? 

Oh. No wonder she didn’t want to talk about it.

Determined, though for what purpose Link didn’t know, he began heading up the stairs she’d descended. He was near the landing that led to the library when he heard footsteps. King Ghananorv appeared a few seconds later, wearing the same hazy layer of illusion magic Zelda was. “Link.” His deep voice seemed to echo the strange itchy feeling that began to fill Link. Why would the Triforce act up now of all damn times? “I was hoping we would see each other.”

Link arched an eyebrow. “Your Majesty,” he greeted. He might as well go for broke right? “I already told Zelda I wouldn’t say anything.” Not quite the truth, but Link really wouldn’t tell anyone, so it counted.

The king let out a booming laugh, that echoed up and down the stairwell. He stepped closer, and the itchiness changed, becoming a strange pull towards the king. Link would call it magic, but then he’d know and be able to see it in some fashion. “Quite the bold vuei you’ve become, Link. And I see you’ve also become a guard, as you wished to be.” The king appeared to look Link over, and he...didn’t quite know what to think of that.

“I serve Princess Zelda,”  he answered with a nod.

The king nodded back. “So I have been told.” Link wondered which of the Gerudo here had told him. “And her friend besides.” He stepped closer, forcing Link to take a step back—only for him to hit the wall. “Nothing else?” It was a quiet challenge, and Link definitely didn’t like the way it twisted his insides.

...He perhaps did like the urge to punch the king, even if that would be an incident. Instead he narrowed his eyes.

Before he could do more the king reached up and rubbed his thumb against Link’s cheek, his own eyebrows raised in response when it held it up for Link to inspect. The gold on it a little damning.

Ignoring the pull, and the warm, twisted up feeling in his belly, Link bared his teeth. “Do you doubt Zelda that much?”  His fingers almost felt like knives as he asked the question.

“I do not,” the king replied, voice equally sharp. He grabbed one of Link’s arms, gold dusted thumb rubbing against one of Link’s bracers. “I’m glad to see you accepted the gift as you should.” If Link weren’t used to Zelda’s own occasional leaps in conversation, the change in subject would have definitely caught him off guard. The king looked him over again. “Hmmm, you seem to have stopped growing. Perhaps you would like the full set now?”

Link sputtered. He really was going to punch the king, incident be damned.

The grin that spread across the king’s face suggested he somehow knew of Link’s thoughts, and found them humorous. “You need not decide now, tell Nabooru when you do. I, however, must go. I still have other gifts that I must give my Princess before I leave.” He stepped away from Link and inclined his head. “Until next time.”

As he walked away, Link found himself desperately wishing he could speak, if only to hurl a stream of obscenities at the Gerudo King.

-

Zelda was in the middle of a conversation with the Rito prince, Ukoll, when she spotted Ghananorv out of the corner of her eye. To her surprise he headed her way again, though perhaps it was only to make his excuses and leave.

When he arrived next to her she blinked to see a thin, but sizable, case in his hands. “Princess.” He inclined his head. “Prince Ukoll. How is your sister?”

She knew he was being polite, but she found her curiosity wanted to know what was in the case more than she wanted to know about Princess Frin and her first clutch of eggs.

“Well enough, Your Majesty,” Ukoll replied, his yellow and brown crest rising as he continued. “She’s stopped brooding over them, much to everyone’s relief. Rorth wanted me to convey his thanks for the cradles, and I’m sure Frin will give them too, when she’s more herself.”

Ghan...he hadn’t minded her calling him that out loud, and it was far quicker than Ghananorv, smiled. “Think nothing of it, and I hope Frin and her husband get much use out of them. Now if you will excuse me, Ukoll, I would steal Princess Zelda from you.”

Ukoll’s beak clicked in a smile. “Go right ahead, Your Majesty.”

“Even for my betrothed, you seem intent on taking up all my time,” Zelda said in airy tease as she followed him a few steps away. Her fingers itched to take the case from him and open it, his gifts were always unusual and she wanted to know what he would give her this time.

He gave her a toothy grin. “You seem to have enjoyed it so far, I think you will enjoy this as well.” He turned the case so that a delicate looking clasp appeared before her.

She found herself grateful that the illusion she wore covered her blush, otherwise she would certainly be drawing more attention than she already was. More people seemed to realize that he was presenting her with a gift however, and turning their attention towards them. Wanting their privacy back as quickly as possible, and in a genuine desire to know, Zelda undid the catch quickly, opening the case.

The sound of surprise that left her as she stared down at the jewelry set caught her off guard. It was a full traditional set too—ear tips having gone out of fashion nearly a hundred years ago—she picked one of the ear tips up, the winter gold shimmering in the light, in contrast to the three pale blue hexagonal pillars that dangled from the bottom. Only to nearly drop it as she felt magic tingle against her fingertips.

Oh, how she wanted to ask about that, for she saw no sigils or marks carved into the metal or stones. But there were already people whispering about this gift, and she didn’t want to add fuel to the fire, or offend him with such a question. If all else failed she could ask Nabooru at a later date. Especially, her mind whispered, if this is the beginning of some nefarious plot.

She set the ear tip down, tracing a finger along the two sets of armbands—one set was more of the pale blue stone, the layered chips looking like snake scales, the other set was winter gold inlaid with pale blue and white in the traditional Gerudo pattern.

Drop earrings, the hexagonal pillars mimicking the tips. Hairpins, with the most delicate looking chain of winter gold she’d ever seen and chips of that blue stone and diamonds, the points of which she was certain could injure someone. Bangles, stud earrings, and a circlet of more of that impossibly thin chain, at the center hung a teardrop of the same pale blue stone the size of her thumb—clearly an echo of his own crown—and dangling on either side were more chips of blue stone and diamond.

The only thing that topped it all was the necklace. Three more fine chains connected to a teardrop of winter gold, within which was another teardrop of the blue stone. And seemingly held there by magic between the chains, more chips.

A set certainly fit for a queen, and all of it imbued with magic.

“I...thank you, King Ghananorv, it is a beautiful set. Though I am curious, what is this blue stone?” That at least she could ask. She was certain it wasn’t sapphire, or the deep blue lajevard that the Gerudo favored.

“Topaz,” he answered. “Though it is not the most common color, it does occur from time to time. We prefer it’s more...fiery colors.” She huffed, even as she glanced at his own red-orange stone. “But these seemed all too fitting for you, as a follower of Nayru.”

Her heart stuttered for a moment. “You know me well.” She wanted to enjoy that fact, but something dark and awful whispered that he might one day use it against her. “Again, I thank you.”

Ghan closed the case with a nod, holding it out for her. Once she took it he gave a low bow. “I wish I could remain longer, my Princess. But I must return home. I shall hope our next meeting is not too far away.”

“I shall hope so too, King Ghananorv,” she replied.

As she watched him leave she also hoped it would be a happy one.

Notes:

If you're interested in what some of the pieces of Zelda's set look like...

Also blue topaz can exist in nature (tho most you’ll see in stores is artificial), it’s just very rare.

Chapter 8: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Zelda managed to wrest some free time for herself out of her busy schedule a few days later, and with Link, and Ghan’s gift in tow, she once again went to the Ambassador’s hall.

She was certain it didn’t actually take that long to make it through to Nabooru’s door, but it felt like it. Link getting caught up in a conversation with Gor Cordon, Ukoll asking her about the possibility of using Rito musicians at the Din’s Day celebration, alongside the usual Sheikah ones. Link fending off yet another Hytopian designer hoping to win the right to make her wedding dress—that her actual wedding was not for another four years didn’t seem to matter. She’d gotten free time, only to have it filled with more work, Zelda huffed in mild annoyance.

Link snorted back as they finally reached Nabooru’s door. “Would you like to switch places?” She asked tartly as she knocked.

The question earned her another snort, this one of clear denial.

There was no immediate answer, though Zelda knew Nabooru was in today. Zelda was willing to wait, though she was certain that her later meetings would be displeased at being made to wait themselves—they would also be too polite to make this known.

Eventually though, Nabooru did answer, arching her eyebrow at the both of them. “Who will you come with to visit me next, Princess? It has been an interesting set so far.”

Zelda felt the tips of her ears redden, but she held her resolve. “I had a question I wished to ask you, if you have the time.”

“I do,” Nabooru answered. Stepping inside she gestured for Zelda to enter. Letting out a brief hum when Link followed, instead of waiting by the door. She didn’t comment on it however, only took her seat behind the desk. “What is it you wish to know?”

Carefully, Zelda set the case on Nabooru’s desk, opening it to reveal Ghan’s gift. “There’s magic in these, I want to know what the spells are, if you can tell me. Also...I am curious to know how it was done, for I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”

Nabooru picked up one of the stone bangles—one of the ones that glittered as a diamond would, though Zelda was certain it could not be a diamond itself. “I cannot tell you the spells that were folded into the metal as it was cast…” She set the bangle down and stood. Going to her door and sticking her head out into the hall before giving a sharp whistle.

The young, reedy voice of a page answered shortly after, and she sent them to get Demal.

“Demal?” Zelda asked as Nabooru returned to her seat.

“She is skilled in discerning such magics, she will be able to answer your first question. As to the second.” Nabooru shrugged. “I am not sure how to answer. Such a thing is not common, but it is not unheard of either. The caster lays their spells in as the metal is being shaped and forged, planting it firmly. To break the spell you must break the item.”

Zelda shook her head. “Persistent magic needs symbols and sigils to keep it in line, otherwise it will go wild and cause chaos,” she insisted. “These may be fine now, but what about next week? Or a few months down the line?”

“Princess,” Nabooru’s tone had an edge to it. “I can assure you that my brother, who is most likely the caster of these magics, means you no harm. Your magic might go wild, but we Gerudo have been doing this for hundreds of years.” Reaching up to her long horsetail of red hair she pulled out a pin. “Touch.”

Reluctantly Zelda did. “Magic,” she said. The familiar zip coursing through her. 

Nabooru offered it to Link, but they shook their head. “Can tell from here,"  they explained.

“Tell Demal,” Nabooru answered with a click of her tongue. “She’ll be able to help you train that. Skills should not be left untended.” She tapped the hairpin against the desk in emphasis. “The spells in this aid in communication and understanding. All Raimedo are given one as part of their office. It has served me well for the past three years, as it served the Raimedo who came before me, for hundreds of years.” She wove it back into her hair. “We Gerudo learned the ways of it shortly after the Rito introduced us to the Hytopians. The best of them can weave the very fabric they use full of magic, many only stitch it into their clothes, it is from this that we adapted our own ways.

“It has allowed us to do much, including master lightning.” She finished, golden eyes flat.

Something in Zelda still wanted to protest. For the way she’d been taught magic, laying the spell in fabric or metal should have been impossible. Yet she had two examples now of the Gerudo being able to do just that.

“The Chief Guides,” Nabooru continued after a moment’s silence. “Have told me that part of your marriage agreement involves the teaching of such magics to you Hylians, upon the condition of your first child. If what they have said is true, your father wished it sooner, but they held fast. To be certain you are all ready for such teachings, if you can be taught at all.”

Zelda felt herself grow a little cold at that. She rarely ever thought of her betrothal in terms of the contract anymore, though perhaps she should have read it long ago. To know what exactly her father had promised, and been promised in return. “I see.”

A knock on the door thankfully halted the conversation.

Demal stepped in a few seconds later, the hem of her kaftan swaying as she bowed to them all. “You wished to see me?”  Her fingers seemed to flow as she signed, granted Sa’suresh as a language was more flowing than Hylian had ever been.

“Yes,” Nabooru answered in Sa’suresh. She turned the case so that Demal could see inside. “The Princess wishes to know what magics reside in the gift our Neseu has chosen to give her.”

Nodding, Demal reached out and took another one of the bangles, rolling it between her hands for a few moments before setting it down. She did it with three other pieces from the set before answering. “Protection, mostly. To keep her safe while she wears them. Also...a, ” Damal's brows furrowed in thought. “Find me spell, in case something is lost, or stolen. If there are any other magics, I cannot find them.”

“Thank you, Demal,” Nabooru said. “For the time, and expertise, you may go.”

Demal bowed again, then left.

Zelda chewed on her lip as she stared at her jewelry. She believed what they were saying, but something in her didn’t quite want to. “Thank you, Raimedo for your own valuable time. It has been an educational meeting.”

“It is my duty to create understanding,” Nabooru replied. “While I am not here to teach you as the others are, I have still done my own work in dispelling the mists of illusions from you. I hope you will use the knowledge well.”

“I will try,” Zelda answered slowly. Closing the case she gathered it up again. Nodding her head to Nabooru she turned and left, Link trailing behind her once again.

The hall was empty when they stepped into it, but Zelda kept walking until they were in a little used side hall. She sagged against a wall, taking a few deep breaths. “I need some fresh air, and time to think. Will you go get Impa for me, please?” She asked Link.

Grateful when they nodded and trotted off.

-

Link and Impa found Zelda sitting in the formal gardens, the case full of jewelry open in her lap once more. From what Link could tell she was wearing some of it already, pale blue armbands glimmering dully in the sunlight.

Link continued to stand at attention, while Impa kneeled. “You wished to speak with me, Princess?”

Even though she had no mirror, Zelda held up the pendant earrings as if she could see her own reflection. Maybe she could, though Link could feel no magic besides the spells around Impa, and the ones in the jewelry case. Setting it down she gave her attention to Impa. “I did. Tell me Impa, do you Sheikah know the ways of putting magic into metals?”

“No,” Impa answered. “Or not presently at least. I am told, long ago before the Sheikah Revival, there were magics the Sheikah race knew that involved putting spells into objects for various uses, one of which had to do with an iron mask. Though I think only one such item still survives, and it is likely such teachings were lost alongside so much else during the Great Quake. Why do you ask?”

Zelda sighed as she picked up one of the ear tips, carefully sliding it onto her ear—Link felt grateful she’d only gotten them studs, and nothing like that. “I have been told that the Gerudo can do such things, and that they will teach it to us Hylians upon the birth of my first child. Did you know of this?”

Link was perhaps a little grateful they weren’t on the receiving end of Zelda’s ire. Granted Impa showed no discomfort at being so, her lined face as impassive as always. “I did,” she said. Her silence implying she wouldn’t elaborate further.

“Why did you not tell me?” Zelda sounded almost forlorn, and Link found they wanted to do something to make her feel better. “How can I make good decisions if I am not given all the information that can be given? This is my life Impa, I deserve to know what has been promised in my name.”

“You were a child,” Impa argued back. “At thirteen, it should not have been your burden to bear. You are not Zelda the Wise, Your Highness, for which I thank Hylia for daily. Perhaps next year, after your birthday, I would have suggested you look into it yourself, until then what did it matter what you knew?”

A sigh left Zelda. “I know now, and I would know it all. I want a copy of the contract, or perhaps the original, myself. I want to know what my father gets out of this, and what I will. And what the Gerudo stand to gain as well.”

Impa bowed her head. “Yes, Your Highness. I shall have it for you by tonight.” Rising she strode off.

Another sigh, Zelda ran her fingers across the necklace at the center of the case. Taking the risk, Link stepped up and set their hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Her smile in response was a little watery. “Thank you, Link,” Her indigo eyes stared out into the distance. “Had I known before I was born, what a burden Wisdom might be, I think I would have told the Goddesses to give this mark to someone else.”

Link crouched in front of her, so she could see them sign. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time. Why do you get to say it, but not me?”  They complained.

The sound of Zelda’s laugh was a relief. “Because it sounds better when I say it,” she responded tartly.

-

As Impa had promised, Zelda found what appeared to be the original marriage contract on her desk when she turned in for the night.

Sitting down Zelda lit the candles next to her and began to pour over it. Stopping only when her neck began to protest being bent for so long.

Stretching, Zelda mulled over all she’d read. Like Impa had said, there was a clause stipulating when the Gerudo would begin to teach their magics to the Hylians. Though Zelda had to wonder if it would truly be counted at her firstborn child, or if they wouldn’t be considered legitimate until she and Ghan were married in the royal ceremony. There would be a two year gap, after all, between her going to live with the Gerudo, and that ceremony, and considering what had happened last week, Zelda was sure neither of them would see sex as a necessary chore.

Her moving was written about at great length too. No surprise there, considering it technically meant Hyrule wouldn’t have a Crown Princess for two years. Though she frowned at the stipulation that no Sheikah was allowed to accompany her—in fact it seemed no Sheikah were welcome at all in the desert, she hoped if she asked Impa she’d get an answer.

Zelda might not have been well versed in contracts, but so far it seemed that Hyrule got the better deal than the Gerudo did. Yet she doubted the vuenvi’rin had let Father’s people walk all over them, they were too proud for that.

Resuming her position she continued to read. Stopping, then rereading a section.

...It is agreed that, upon marriage to Zelda Hyrule the Seventh, the King of the Gerudo, Ghananorv shall be crowned as king to her queen. The two of them ruling as equals…

A laugh escaped Zelda. If it was true that Ghan and Ganondorf were the same...spirit, then it seemed it had only taken six hundred years for Ganondorf to achieve his goal of ruling Hyrule. She could hope that might be enough to avert whatever evil that vision from years ago was trying to warn of.

Not that she was sure them being the same was true. If they were, wouldn’t he have done something by now? Instead of ruling his people while Hyrule grew richer from a deal they’d made with said people?

Ganondorf had been known for his cunning and intelligence—even Zelda the Wise had only had suspicions before her own Link had appeared. A year, perhaps two, would make sense for a trick or plot of some sort. But five?

She found herself recalling one of Zelda the Wise’s entries, about how she hadn’t been able to think of another way out of the war than Ganondorf’s death. If she had thought of marriage as an option, would she have taken it? Would he?

Looking up to her statuettes, Zelda let out a little sigh. “Please, let this be the end. That my feeling won’t come to pass.”

The Goddesses were silent.

-

Dearest Princess,

I find the scent of the sweetest flower is of great respite during my work. Though perhaps occasionally inconvenient, for it leads me to wonder how you will feast my other senses. I may know the touch and the scent of the flower, but what will I see when I look upon it? What is the color of the petals, of the pollen that dusts them? How does it tremble under the wind of pleasure and desire?

And what of sound? Though it cannot sing as sweetly as the birds above, I wish to know how the petals rustle, how the sound will differ when they are replete with nectar.

Ah, that which torments me most of all, that I did not grant myself a taste of such nectar. Though taste and scent are linked, a scent is not enough to truly grant one the breadth of taste. When next we meet, I fear I shall steal you away, if only to rectify this grand oversight. I have strength enough to hold you up while I coax that precious flower to grant me that which I seek.

I should hope you would be amenable to such consummation,

Ghananorv

Zelda buried her burning red face in her hands and groaned. Her body squirming as it tried to relieve the ache growing in her. “Wretched, horrible, man,” she muttered, her voice lacking any sort of heat or censure. “I will not be able to sleep now, damn you.”

Pulling her hands away she grabbed parchment and quill, certain that it would be better to respond while she remained in the throes of frustration, than after she’d received satisfaction.

-

Your Majesty,

Your words are quite stirring, and I find they, and the memory of your fingers learning my flower, will creep in as they please, giving no mind to what I may be doing. I think this is excellent preparation for you, my king.

While you have some knowledge of this flower you treasure, I find it quite unfair that I have no such equal of you. I have read many a book where women use ‘feminine wiles’ to get what they please, and at our last meeting I perhaps should have attempted to use such upon you, so that I might avail myself to the knowledge of your king’s scepter. For the good of my education, of course, for it is generally frowned upon for a princess to see any such thing, even in drawing—though I have, of course, seen it in drawing, and read it lovingly described in certain novels as well. 

I know that it is a general rule that such things are proportional, which would make yours a kingly scepter indeed, though like the breasts of a woman this is not always true. So my curiosity is quite piqued, and demands satisfaction. Perhaps after you are done with your feasting, I might finally gain the knowledge I seek. 

Zelda

Laughter bubbled up from Ghananorv’s chest, while lower down there came the demand to go visit her right now and remedy both their situations. His hand absently reached up, tugging gently on the blue topaz earring there; his magic sparked, letting him feel the fine thread that connected it to its kind. The space between them so far, yet now so easy to cross. No one would know save the two of them.

Something in his chest urged him to go. It would be so easy to bend and shape her...

No, he shook his head sharply to dispel the thought, as much as he might wish to cultivate this growing lust they shared, he needed to remain here. Tempting as it was.

Chapter 9: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Zelda felt a little strange looking down at the chest of clothes. They were, ostensibly, her clothes, though she’d never seen them before in her life. Moreso because they were a gift, from Ghan.

For her eighteenth birthday.

It was no wonder her maids hadn’t sighed over them when she’d first opened it a few hours ago. She was leaving in a few days, and these clothes didn’t require help to put on. Zelda knew they’d been paid well, and she was giving them good references; but she was certain they’d likely enjoyed the privileges of being maids to the Crown Princess.

Reaching into the seemingly bottomless chest of black clothes she wrapped her fingers around something silken and pulled. They didn’t spark with magic, but Zelda knew thanks to Link that there were magic imbued clothes amongst what she’d been given.

She held a pair of sirwal in her hands, from the feel of it they had to be quite a few layers of fabric, yet the legs still had a bit of transparency to them; something that would have been impossible with Hylian fabrics. Without bothering to fold them back up she let them fall back into the chest.

Her heart raced strangely the longer she looked at them, as if they were more than just clothes.

In a way she knew they were. They were the promise that her life had irrevocably changed, though she didn’t know yet if for good or ill.

She couldn’t go back and change the past five years, even if she wanted to. All she could do was hope and do her best to make sure the change was for good.

-

Reaching out, Link ran a soothing hand along Epona’s neck as they came to a stop. Next to him, Zelda’s own horse Seba stopped as well, tossing her head. Zelda gave a sigh as they both stared out across the placid surface of Lake Hylia. Behind them the small convoy following them began to break apart for the evening.

“That’s where we’re going,” Zelda pointed to the left shore, where bridges connected a series of islands and peninsulas. She sounded almost like she was talking to herself, and not telling Link. He found he didn’t mind, even though he knew full well where they were headed. Her finger swung to the far right of the giant lake—Link wondered what size a body of water had to be before you could start calling it a sea or an ocean. “The Ancient Hylia temple is on the other shore.” She gave a little sigh. “I almost wish we could stop there, it was one of the last places I went with my mother before she died.”

Link reached out and squeezed her arm in comfort. He didn’t try to suggest they ride off that way, if his own mental calculations were right, it would be a nearly three day ride to the other side of the lake, and there wasn’t a way indicated on the map to get from the Hylia temple to the Gerudo Bridge, not without retracting the way they’d come. He doubted everyone involved would be happy to take an extra week of travel, just to get there and back.

A larger sigh escaped Zelda. “I’m wool gathering.” She turned Seba with her knees like Link had taught her years ago, nudging her towards the rapidly forming camp.

Link caught up easily. “I miss my mom too, at weird times.”  Maybe if he’d known his father he would miss him too. “It’s a big change in your life, too, you’re allowed to be sad about it.”  

“You’re right,” Zelda replied with a wan smile. “It’s been five years, but it feels almost too quick too.” They both dismounted easily, a page rushing over to take their horses and lead them to the makeshift pen. “And I’m not exactly sad, part of me is even excited, I just...don’t know.”

“We could sneak away tonight. I know all the good spots in the Lost Woods where no one’ll ever find us.”  He knew she wouldn’t accept, but he also wasn’t offering it to be serious.

As he’d hoped, it got a laugh out of her. “No, thank you though, I’m fairly certain I would indeed get lost. And I guess you’d know if the stories are true or not, but I would rather not end up one of the undead.” She looked back the way they’d come, towards where the desert was. “Living is a much better option.”

The Triforce on Link’s hand pulsed warmly, and Link spared it a glower. Because it wasn’t being helpful in the least.

-

The Gerudo Bridge stretched before them, despite it being newer than the bridges that crossed the other provinces, it had been constructed in the same style. Though it was partly obscured from the mists coming off Lake Hylia’s waterfalls, the sound almost deafening.

Though she couldn’t see all of it, and couldn’t hear the guards that patrolled it; Zelda knew this was the safest bridge she would likely ever cross. The merchants who now traded across the desert helped to pay for the upkeep and guards so their own travels would be safer.

“My Lady.” Impa’s voice next to Zelda made her start, Seba reacting by trying to dance away.

She didn’t get far before Zelda calmed her down, returning her so she and Impa were side by side again. “This is where you leave me, isn’t it?” Thankfully she managed to keep the sorrowful note out of her voice. She’d known this day was coming, after all, and even if she was losing Impa, she still had Link, and Anure, Ikafu, Geitaifi, and even Demal and Riviko.

“It is,” Impa agreed calmly. Then much to Zelda’s surprise, she found herself being pulled into a hug by the older woman. “I may not be able to follow you, Zelda, but know that I would still do your will here in Hyrule, if you wish it. And when you are crowned Queen, I will welcome you back with open arms.”

Zelda blinked back tears as Impa pulled away. “I...I would like that Impa, you’re important to me, you always have been.” Though Zelda was certain nothing much would change in the next two years, it would still be good to have news of everything. Most days it seemed the court of Hyrule was fueled by gossip, and to be out of the loop could spell disaster for most.

On Zelda’s other side Ikafu came to a halt. “Princess, we should cross soon, it’s still an hour's travel to Merchant’s Town after the bridge.”

“Yes,” she answered. Though her nod was absent at best. “You can start crossing, I’ll catch up in a moment.”

Ikafu kicked her horse into a canter, the others following her.

Zelda found herself bridging the gap between herself and Impa again. “I’ll miss you,” she muttered into Impa’s gambison. “Thank you, for everything.”

She felt Impa’s lips press against her hair. “I will miss you too, Zelda. And I want you to remember something: the Goddesses blessed you, and set a path before you, but...you have something they have never had. A choice. You get to choose what you do with what is given to you, how you walk the path. Remember that.”

“I will,” Zelda promised with a sniffle. Finally she made herself pull away, Seba happily jumping into a canter when she gave the mare a nudge. As she began to catch up with the others she turned in the saddle, to see Impa, and the rest of her Hylian retinue beginning to turn around to head back to the castle. Zelda made herself turn around too.

Crossing the bridge was quick, having been expected, none of the guards tried to stop them. And as Ikafu had said, it was another hour’s ride through steep canyons before they reached Merchant’s Town. Despite it being spring, it felt like high summer, and Zelda knew the temperature would only get warmer the further into the desert they went.

Despite the heat, and the sun that seemed to beat down, there were many Hylians bustling about, Goron and Rito too—and a trio of very dry looking Zora, quickly ducking into one of the houses. Zelda assumed if it weren’t midday she’d be seeing Gerudo as well.

The six of them drew stares, but none of the merchants brave enough to keep their stalls open called out to them. Anure led the way as they hurried through the streets, they reached a house with a bright red door, one that opened quickly after they’d stabled their horses.

Inside was blessedly cool, Zelda, and Link too, gave a little sigh of relief. A Gerudo voe in orange smiled at them as she gave a little bow. “Welcome to my home, it is a blessing to have you.” Zelda understood her, but it took her mind a moment to realize the woman had spoken in Sa’suresh. Absently, Zelda wondered how long she’d go before she heard Hylian again.

Anure looked like she would’ve rolled her eyes if Geitaifi hadn’t stepped on her foot first. “It is always good to see family again,” she scooped the younger woman into a hug. “We’ll be staying a few days, which is longer than we agreed, but I hope that will not be too much trouble.”

“A few days?” Zelda asked, shocked. She’d thought they’d want to get across the desert as soon as possible.

Ikafu gave a nod. “Your moon-time begins soon, yes?”

Zelda fought back a blush, not that she was embarrassed by such things, but talking about it in front of men was different. “...yes,” she finally admitted. Tomorrow at the latest, she knew, thankful that her cycle was regular.

“Were we a bigger convoy,” Geitaifi explained. “We could leave tomorrow, no problem. But with only the six of us, that much blood will draw more unwelcome attention than we can deal with.”

Even Demal nodded at her words. “Greater Raizadu, at the least, ” he signed. Almost as one, all of the Gerudo raised a palm towards the ceiling, as if to ward off evil.

Zelda and Link shared a look, which was mildly ruined by Link snorting. “What?” She found herself hissing as they followed Geitaifi deeper into the house.

“Yesterday I almost suggested we go to the Hylia temple you mentioned, but realized it’d take too long to get there and back. Clearly I should’ve if we’re gonna be here for a few days.”

Rolling her eyes, Zelda gave him a shove. “Sush.”

-

Thankfully, the next few days passed quickly for Link; in a way the break was nice, though she wasn’t sure she’d ever truly get used to the heat. Then before she knew it, they were back up their horses again and, well covered against the sun, they began to ride out into the desert itself.

They took a few hours break in the middle of the day, to escape the worst of the heat, but otherwise rode straight on, even continuing on after the sun began to set. Only once it began to grow truly dark, and chilly, did Anure call for them to stop.

Not even Zelda protested being pulled in to help unpack tents and cooking supplies. Though she shared a look of confusion with Link when Demal pulled out thin ropes with dangling silver bells that chimed sweetly as he began laying the rope around the camp. Link shrugged, something to ask about when they’d gotten settled in.

Geitaifi pulled her into helping with the cooking, which let her somewhat observe what Demal was doing as he walked around, seemingly aimlessly, until the camp, and the horses, were surrounded in a tangle of rope and bells. A breeze picked up, and they filled the air with a gentle sort of music.

“What are they for, Demal?” Zelda asked as they settled around the campfire.

He set his bowl down next to him. “Protection, spirit maze to ward off beasts and Raizadu.”

“Cold voices?”  Link managed to ask before Zelda could—likely because she was eating, but Link still counted it—they’d mentioned those a few days ago, but Link hadn’t thought to ask about it then.

“Those who would lure you away to become lost in the desert, they often imitate the voices of loved ones. The bells ward off the weaker ones, and any stronger to resist the sound will get caught up in the rope maze. It also has the added bonus of catching anyone who might sleepwalk,” Ikafu answered with a smile. Ah, some weird desert-Kokiri then, possibly.

Zelda made a thoughtful noise. “I’d love to help you next time, Demal. I didn’t realize ghosts and poes could be warded off like that.” She stared at the back of her hand for a moment, and Link bumped shoulders with her to get her to stop thinking about her own would-be Triforce piece.

Demal nodded in agreement. “You’ve got quicker fingers than Link anyways.”

As the other Gerudo sniggered, Link stuck her pinky up. Demal did the same against the rim of his bowl as he ate.

-

As the days passed, Zelda knew that the mountains in the distance, their destination, were getting closer. But the seeming unendingness of the sand dunes made her feel as if they were going nowhere. Yet she didn’t complain, not even when she got sunburn across her cheeks. At least that night Ikafu and Geitaifi let her help Demal lay out the spirit maze before they fussed over her.

Which were fascinating to learn about. Each tribe apparently having their own designs, sometimes fragmenting even more into each family. And now she understood Ghan’s comment about blessing bells—Demal told her that the Sage could bless bells too, but that she was often too busy to do so, especially with no King to help her until now.

Perhaps what had been more worrying to learn was that spirit mazes didn’t have to be physical.

“If you have enough willpower and magic, you can put them in people too.” He’d told her almost nonchalantly as she’d laid out a string.

Zelda’s heart had stuttered and the bells had jangled as she demanded to know more.

It...had not been comforting to know. That a strong enough Gerudo could trap someone’s mind in their body, could possibly even turn that mind to their own use, and no one might ever know. They taught it anyways, because to break it you had to know how to do it in the first place.

She always felt so small, when she realized she knew so little.

Occasionally they came across an oasis, filling up their waterskins and leaving little offerings at the shrines under the date palms. Zelda found herself praying at each one, though she found herself wondering if Hylia could even hear her in the desert. She felt bad every time the thought crept up on her, of course Hylia could hear her. Just because the Gerudo didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t mean she ceased to exist.

Zelda also perhaps lost track of the days, with them all being the same it was understandable. They had to be arriving soon though, Zelda assured herself. The mountains were getting closer.

Late one morning, something different finally did happen. In the distance, a shape appeared, one that got larger and larger the closer they got to it. Both she and Link letting out sounds of surprise as they realized there was a giant statue carved out of a mesa. The closer they got, the more Zelda could make out that it was of a woman, sitting tailor fashion.

The Gerudo let out cries of delight, kicking their horses into a gallop, Zelda and Link not far behind. As they came into the shadow of the statue, Zelda realized where they were: the Desert Colossus, the Goddess of the Sands herself.

Zelda found the dark archway that was the Temple’s opening, beckoned, promising relief from the heat. She resisted the urge, however; knowing that entry into the Temple was restricted. Though she was also certain she could make an argument that she would be one of the few allowed inside. 

Not that it mattered, for the Gerudo only stopped briefly to give a few prayers. Zelda found herself joining in, Din had never truly called to Zelda, but there was no harm in giving her the respect she deserved. Or giving her thanks for a safe crossing. Then they rode on, though not far, to Zelda’s surprise. For a short distance away there was another oasis. An oasis with fairies.

Despite her efforts to hold them back, a giggle escaped Zelda as she watched the fairies swarm Link. Who made a face and tried to carefully bat them away.

“Princess.” With a brief start, Zelda looked down to see Geitaifi looking up at her expectantly, a bag and a now familiar case in her hands.

“We’re that close?” Zelda found herself asking as she dismounted. Anure took Seba’s reins, before going to Link and nudging them away to give Zelda privacy.

Geitaifi managed to free a hand, pointing at a thin, dark, object in the distance. “That’s the pump, which lies close to the King’s home. Riding, it’s only an hour away.”

Heart pounding, Zelda nodded. Her fingers felt like lead as she began to undress, Geitaifi stepping in quickly to help. The sun felt strangely nice on her naked body, but she didn’t linger, stepping quickly into the waters of the oasis. She accepted the washcloth and soap Geitaifi handed her, the air filling with the scents of lemon and lavender as she washed off weeks of travel.

As she did, Geitaifi carefully packed away Zelda’s Hylian traveling clothes, and laid out fresh Gerudo ones. 

Again, Zelda found herself wishing to linger, but she made herself step out of the waters. Geitaifi quickly dried her off before letting Zelda dress. The sirwal were easy enough to put on, though Zelda had to get a little help with the choli, the jewelry case finally opened so the armbands could be used to hold up her detached sleeves.

Zelda didn’t argue as Geitaifi made her sit on a camp stool, the woman beginning to hum as she did Zelda’s hair, brushing it before beginning to braid it with oiled fingers—filling the air again with lemon and lavender. “What’s it like?” Zelda found herself asking as she sat as still as possible.

“There are many ‘its’ that question could cover,” Geitaifi teased lightly. Zelda found herself wishing for a mirror so she could see what Geitaifi was doing with each brief tug. “Which in specific do you wish to know about?”

Zelda managed a shrug without moving her head. “Living in the desert specifically, I guess.” She knew bits and pieces from all her various lessons, but had never been given a complete picture, as it were.

“It is hard,” Geitaifi answered slowly. “Even in the King’s home, with the aquifer the Goddess led us to centuries ago, things are not always easy. But when she gave us this land as our Gintu the Goddess did not promise things would be sweet and easy.” She finally seemed to finish whatever she was doing with the hair on Zelda’s crown, and began bringing it all together into a braid of some sort. “But we are happy, more often than not, and know that together much can be endured.”

Zelda didn’t doubt she would be able to endure it too, though from the perspective of her life so far, it did seem almost impossible. “If you hand me the case, Geitaifi, I can put the bracelets and earrings on.” Her fingers itched to do something.

“Hold,” Geitaifi said as she moved one of Zelda’s hands into her hair. Zelda held it tightly, and a few seconds later the case was in her lap. “You could put some of these on her ankles too,” Geitaifi commented, pointing at the bangles.

A sound of agreement left Zelda as she relinquished her hair back to the older woman. Moving carefully she began to put them on, the metal and stone feeling cool against her skin. Soon all that remained in the case were the necklace, circlet, hairpins and the ear tips—all of which would be easier to put on once her hair was done. It was the first time she’d worn the whole set, and it felt a little strange.

“Pins, please,” Geitaifi’s voice broke through Zelda’s musings. She offered them up to the other woman, her braided hair being pulled up and twisted in some manner. The weight settled easily however, when she felt the pins slide into place. “Circlet.” Zelda was more careful handing this one to her, afraid the chain might break if she moved too quickly. The blue topaz was a noticeable lump of cool against her forehead. “Now makeup, close your eyes please.”

Closing them, Zelda let Geitaifi move her head whichever way she wished, the thin brushes tickling her face as the paint was applied. “Done,” the woman declared a few minutes later. “You can put on the necklace yourself, right?”

Zelda nodded. It wasn’t too difficult to make sure it lay correctly, and the ear tips slid on easily from use.

“Go have a look,” Geitaifi nudged her towards the oasis while she reached into her bag.

Heartbeat racing again, Zelda went to the water’s edge, careful of her new slippers, and peered into the water.

Zelda recognized herself, but it wasn’t the her she was used to seeing every morning in the mirror. The black of her clothes made her appear all the more pale, the jewelry as pale, and glittering. The metal of the circlet vanished within Zelda’s slightly darker hair, making the gemstones appear to be floating atop the complicated braiding. Geitaifi had used the same pale blue with the makeup, but she’d applied copper as well; which made her indigo eyes more vibrant, and her lips strange and inviting.

“Here.” Geitaifi held out what was clearly a cloak and…

“I thought veils had gone out of fashion?” Zelda asked carefully as she took it.

A nod. “Yes, but it will help keep all my hard work safe from the elements.” She helped Zelda put it on. “It also adds an air of mystery, yes?” Her smile was impish as she wrapped the cloak around Zelda tightly. “A delightful puzzle for our King.”

Zelda found herself grateful for the veil, if only because it hid her blush.

They rejoined the others, and she drew up a little short at realizing she wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Link had shed their own Hylian clothes for Gerudo ones too. Though in their case they were the white of the Gerudo Royal Guard, though Zelda had to stare for a moment before realizing there was black stitching at the hems of their sirwal and kurta—true black even, and not the dark blue the Gerudo also called black. 

Someone had convinced them to wear their hair up in the Gerudo high tail—and even convinced them to wear an emerald carbonch in it—which showed off the fact that the underpart of their hair had been shaved away. Link had explained it helped them when they were a boy, and she’d seen it first hand many times, but that also didn’t stop it from being strange. Their bracers gleamed in the light as they teased her. “Mysterious.”

She blushed again and rolled her eyes, sticking her pinky up at him. Link gave the dry wheezing sound that was their laugh as Ikafu helped her mount Seba.

They continued to ride again, and Zelda found herself grateful for the covering Geitaifi had put her in, none of the sand flying up abrading her skin at all. Though it was getting on towards the hotter part of the day, Zelda knew they wouldn’t stop this time, not when they were so close to the end.

Her heart pounded in time with Seba’s galloping hooves as dunes began to give way to swaths of hard packed earth, the mountains rising up impossibly high into the sky above.

And there was the palisade of Ghan’s home, her home. She began to see people the closer they got, half afraid her heart would break her ribs as she found Ghan’s tall form among those waiting at the gate. They began to slow and Zelda nearly kicked Seba back into a gallop, the twisting in her belly insisting she keep riding all the way to the mountains and beyond. Her nerves refusing the fact that her life would never be the same.

It was too late to change that fact though, her life had never been the same since she first set foot in the desert, since her sixteenth birthday, since her father had agreed to the marriage suite in the first place. The idea that sex might be more life changing than any of those things was a bit absurd.

She dismounted on her own, half-forcing her body to move with the grace a princess should have as she stepped towards Ghan.

He was in royal black as she was, sirwal and a drape of fabric that left half his chest bare. He perhaps was wearing even more jewelry than she was: rings and armbands, an almost gorget like necklace that appeared to be made of a single sheet of gold engraved with various designs, gemstones glittered in his hair and ears, and he still had the same heavy ring at the end of his long braid as she remembered—bisected by the feather he’d stolen from her—though he seemed to have discarded the nose stud. All of it seemed dwarfed by his crown.

A curtsy when she had only a cloak instead of skirts was a strange experience, but she did it anyways. “King Ghananorv, you honor me with your personal welcome.” He did, even, for she hadn’t expected it. One usually had to go to the King, he did not come to you.

“You may rise, Princess Zelda,” there was warmth in his voice as he spoke. When she tilted her head up to meet his gaze, she found his copper eyes sparkling. “I welcome you gladly into my home, and hope that you will embrace the Home as your own.” There was a slight difference to his Sa’suresh than she was used to hearing, and she didn’t quite know what to make of it. He offered his arm, and she found herself biting back a smile at the Hylian gesture. “My Agarin waits for us at the temple.”

Despite herself she turned her head slightly to look at Link, who held both Epona and Seba’s reins. They arched an eyebrow in question but she shook her head. Returning her attention to Ghan she took his arm, cool metal and warm skin making her own break out in gooseflesh. “Lead on, my King.” Though she’d written that title many times in Sa’suresh, it felt strange to say it in that tongue for the first time.

Gerudo, and to Zelda’s surprise a fair amount of Rito, watched them from the shelter of brightly painted houses as they walked down the tiled streets. “Agarin?” Zelda found herself asking quietly as they walked towards the large structure closer to the center of the town—though she was certain no Hylian would call it such. She would have thought after five years there would be no more Sa’suresh for her to learn.

“My earthly mother,” he said in careful Hylian. “Perhaps I was remiss in not sending you a way of learning Sa’hvaut,” he continued in Sa’Suresh. “It is the sacred language for Kings and worship, Geitaifi, Riviko, and Demal would not have been able to teach you, save perhaps through demonstrating prayer. Nabooru could have taught it, but her work likely did not allow it.”

“I see,” Zelda said. “Well, it’s as you told me long ago, there is always more to be learned.”

A lightning smile from Ghan. “A good reminder, my Princess.” For a moment his other hand settled atop hers, thumb brushing against her knuckles, then it was gone.

“Is there then some title for you beyond Neseu? In this Sa’hvaut?” She asked, curious to know.

“No,” he answered as they came into the shadow of the Temple. The edifice was more plain than she was used to in Temples, but certainly in keeping with the Gerudo style. “Though you would use fa now, instead of atu.”

“Fa’Neseu,” she tried as they climbed the steps.

She chanced to look up, and saw his pupils dilate as he looked down at her. “Yes,” he rumbled. “It is very tempting, my consort,” she started at the change in title. “To drag you off into a tucked away corner, and discover what secrets lay beneath this cloak and veil.” They stopped in front of the Temple doors, and his hand reached to tilt her chin up, though it didn’t do much to bridge the height between them.

“Much you have seen, my King,” she answered with a boldness that surprised her. “And more that you have desired to see.”

“You are not making this easier for me,” his voice deepened even more.

She felt the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiled broadly in strange delight. “I am certain there are many things between us that will not be...easy, for us, but that will be half the fun, yes?” She danced away from him as he tried to step closer, his hand grasping hers tightly before she could truly escape. “Now, I believe you said your mother waits for us? I do not wish to make a poor first impression.”

A wordless growl left him as he tugged her back to his side. “I see this is one thing you do not wish to make easy.”

“I am certain I don’t know what you speak of, my King,” she replied airly.

He gave a grunt after a few agonizing seconds of silence. Finally leading her into the Temple, the coolness a relief after the heat outside.

While the outside may have been plain, the inside was richly decorated. The centerpiece being a statue in the same style as the Colossus they’d passed, Din, Goddess of the Sands, seated, palms resting on knees. She was draped in rich red and golden fabrics, roses and pomegranate blossoms too, to Zelda’s surprise.

In smaller alcoves to the side she saw statues to Nayru and Farore, well tended, but clearly secondary. That there were none of Hylia was something Zelda had expected, but was still a strange shock to her.

There were no other people in the Temple, save them, and a woman in white and gold seated in prayer before Din’s statue.

Ghan drew them to a halt a few steps behind her, and they waited in respectful silence. Soon enough the woman stood and turned, revealing a face only just beginning to gain wrinkles, though they proved to be the kind sort, for they deepened when she smiled.

“Mother, this is Zelda, my chosen consort. Zelda, this is Sobik, mother and our Sage.”

The woman stepped towards them, taking Zelda’s hands into her own and giving them a squeeze. “Welcome, Zelda, it is good to finally meet you.”

“And you as well, Sage Sobik.”

-

Link found themselves watching Zelda and the King move deeper into town, that strange itching pull lessening the further the King got—Link liked it even less the second time.

Anure bumped her shoulder with theirs. “Come, let us stable the horses.”

They started walking down the same main street Zelda had, though turned off it quickly. Passing through what was likely the market, though at the moment it was empty of people and goods. They were a few steps from the market when there was a childish cry of delight, a reedy child of seven or so rushing out a door towards them. Their green form crashing into Demal. “You’re home!”

Demal scoop the child up into a tight hug, burying his face in the child’s red hair.

A trill of fond annoyance came from the same door, and a few seconds later a Rito with brightly colored green feathers stepped out. “Cende, leave your parent alone.” They scooped the child out of Demal’s arms, swinging them around—much to the child’s delight—until they were on the Rito’s back.

“Azira,” despite Demal’s chiding fingers, there was a fond smile on his face.

Ikafu snatched up the reins of Demal’s horse. “Go be with your family,” she told him. “We’ll look after your horse.”

Demal gave a grateful nod, following the child and Rito into the house. 

Link found themselves staring at the door for a long moment, until Epona nearly bowled them over, her brown eyes chiding in their own right. Link clicked their tongue soothingly as they began to walk again, knowing Epona wanted to get out of the sun, and probably wanted oats for all the trouble she’d been put through recently as well.

When they reached the stables they were greeted by more children in green, though they were older than Demal’s child had been. They stared openly at Link until Geitaifi demanded they start looking after the horses instead of being rude—Anure snickered. Link was certain it wouldn’t be the first time they were stared at here.

One child was braver than the rest, stepping up to take Seba and Epona’s reins. “Give them both good rub downs,”  Link instructed, a little glad Ikafu immediately began to translate. “And oats, if you have them.”

“Yes, sir,” the child replied in halting Hylian.

“Vuei,” Anure corrected, if perhaps a little sharply. It still surprised Link. She bent down and kissed Geitaifi on the head. “Go home, and I shall see you this evening.”

Geitaifi rolled her eyes fondly. “Yes, darling.” She squeezed Link’s shoulder as she passed. “Good luck.”

Link smiled in reply, following Ikafu and Anure as they began walking out of the stables. 

“You will train every morning with the rest of the Guard,” Anure began instructing as they walked towards what had to be the palace. It hardly looked like it would stand up to any sort of attack, but Link knew it wasn’t supposed to. They’d perhaps grown too used to the castle, which while half-decorative in its own right, was still based off older designs meant for war. “And you will sit with us at meals. Being King’s chosen,” her eyes flicked to the embroidery on Link’s clothes, perhaps in mild distaste. “Means that you will be first called if the King travels, or serve to watch him during Petitions.”

“It will be a lot of standing around and looking menacingly pretty,” Ikafu chimed in with a grin. “Which we know you do quite well already, Link, so you’ll do just fine.”

They fought back a blush, while Anure rolled her eyes. “Once you’re settled in, one of us will take you to the smith for weapons.”

The closer they got to the palace, the more vai in white Link noticed, Many of them calling out happy greetings to both Anure and Ikafu, and, as Link had guessed, staring openly at them. They would quickly look away however, having more discipline than their children.

Stepping through an open archway, Link let out a surprised gasp. The whole of them stopped for a moment as they stared at the lush garden inside. Date palms and pomegranate trees heavy with fruit, provided ample shade from the heat, while underneath them grew a multitude of flowers—their names escaped Link, but they knew Zelda would likely be able to name them all. The whole of it was certainly incongruous with the desert they were in, and Link would have suspected magic; except they couldn’t sense any.

“Link,” Ikafu’s voice started them out of their daze. When they looked, they were surprised to see Anure had left. “She got impatient,” Ikafu answered with a wry smile. “Come, I’ll show you to the room the King gave you.”

Catching up with ease, Link frowned. “Shouldn’t I be in the barracks with the rest of the Guard?”  They hadn’t exactly expected special treatment.

Ikafu inclined her head in agreement. “Usually, yes, but our King understands that you are here to watch over the Princess, which he approves of, and so decided to give you a room close to hers. Do not worry about displacing anyone, there’s more than enough rooms in the palace, most of them still uninhabited.”

That did make Link feel a little better as they walked through various hallways, some open, some closed, with guards at nearly every intersection. Link soon realized Ikafu’s comment about there being enough rooms hadn’t been as much of an exaggeration as they’d thought.

“Here we are.” The door was nearly invisible, or perhaps it was only so because the next set of doors was ornate, but it opened with barely a whisper when Ikafu pressed against it.

The room inside was perhaps smaller than the one Link had had at the castle, but it was better appointed, and felt spacious despite the size.

“The rooms next door are the Princess’, would you like to look them over?”

Link nodded in agreement, following her through the ornate doors. The rooms were only a little less opulent than the doors themselves, but as Link looked around they knew Zelda would like them. Another sound of surprise left Link as they spotted another familiar looking Gerudo.

Riviko turned and gave a broad smile. “Link.” Link didn’t fight them pulling them into a hug. “It is good to see you again. Where is the Princess?”

“With the King,” Link answered as they pulled away. 

“They went to the Temple to meet with the Sage, I believe.” Ikafu explained.

A nod from Riviko. “Then I hope she will be here soon. I did my best to make this a place she would love, thankfully Geitaifi has sent me many letters.” They smiled. “It will be good to catch up with you sometime, though I suppose we’ve got years to do that now.”

Link gave their own nod. Footsteps at the end of the hall made their ears twitch, followed soon by voices. “That’s them now.”

They were proven right a few seconds later, when Zelda, still bundled up—which Link found an odd relief—and the King stepped through the doors. The twisting itch returned and Link did their best not to make a face. “Your rooms.”

“My rooms?” That Zelda questioned it did perhaps surprise Link. “As your consort I thought we would have been sharing rooms, fa King.” Link was very grateful they weren’t the object of that edge to Zelda’s voice.

The King narrowed his eyes at the rest of them. “Leave.” As much as Link wanted to argue that, they knew they couldn’t. So instead they made it so they were the last out of the room, taking care not to close the door all the way before standing guard off to the side.

Riviko gave them a fleeting smile. “Until later.” 

They nodded absently, as Riviko, and Ikafu to Link’s surprise, began to leave, most of their focus on listening.

“I had thought you would be more comfortable with having your own space, Zelda.” The King’s voice wasn’t completely placating, and it was a reasonable assumption considering it was the Hylian way.

Zelda sighed. “I do appreciate it, but it is...not what I was expecting. I am also fairly certain there is something else you are keeping from me,” her tone grew sharp again. “I do not want our relationship to start with secrets, Ghan.” Link gave a start, it wasn’t the fact that the King had a name—though perhaps it had slipped Link’s mind a little, it wasn’t as if they were ever going to call him anything else than ‘King’—it was that Zelda seemed utterly happy to use a nickname.

“Zelda,” the King sighed as well. “You are right, there should be no secrets. Though it is perhaps a wound to my pride to admit the truth.”

“No one his here to hear it but I, fa King.” Link flinched a little at Zelda’s words, knowing that she was lying, however unintentionally. “And I am not one to speak idly.”

There was a thump, likely someone sitting down, then the King sighed again. “You are right. Come, sit with me.” A sound that might have been him patting a cushion, a brief rustle of fabric, then silence for a long moment. “I...I have been having nightmares these past few years. They are not frequent, but when they do occur, I am told I thrash about quite forcefully.” More rustling fabric. Link gave in and inched a little closer, half certain the door wasn’t open enough that they could peek in, but hopeful all the same. “I did not wish to harm you, so, then your own rooms to sleep in.”

There was a crack now in the doors, though Link didn’t see much, only half of the King’s shoulder, and the barest sliver of Zelda sitting next to him. Her hand appeared, dropping a diaphanous piece of fabric—her veil, Link realized.

“Thank you, Ghan, for telling me. Though I still wish to try and share a night with you, perhaps I have some way to soothe you that none of your people have thought of.”

One of the King’s bejeweled hands rose up, likely to cup Zelda’s cheek. “Then I will let you, though I think it foolish.” A sound of surprise left Zelda as the King did something. “Such beauty that sits upon my lap. Might I have a taste? I fear I have forgotten the sweetness of your lips.”

Instead of speaking, Zelda clearly chose to pull the King’s head down, the sounds of kissing filling the air. Link felt their cheeks blaze, and shifted with a new discomfort. Slowly edging back to their previous position.

-

Dinner was a communal affair, just as Zelda was used to. Although perhaps the execution was far different: for it wasn’t just the nobles from the palace that ate together, but the whole town.

She and Ghan were served first, but then it was the children, who seemed to fall upon their food like cuccos on bugs, a thought that made her smile as she slowly ate her own food. Mainly from the fact that if she ate too quickly the heat of the spices became unbearable; although she’d also eaten her fill earlier when she, Link, and Riviko had sat down for mint tea.

Zelda had perhaps felt a little bad for ignoring the person she’d once called vuenvi when she’d first seen them, but in Zelda’s defense she had been annoyed with Ghan over his assumption she would want her own rooms instead of asking. His explanation had eased her annoyance, but it still did sting a little.

Thoughtfully she chewed on her bite of lamb in some sort of green sauce that made her want to sigh in delight. Nightmares...she’d had them too, though they’d faded over time, and was certain his were not from the same source as her own had been. Perhaps it was presumptuous of her to think she might have a solution that the long, and likely vast, knowledge of the Gerudo did not. Yet she wouldn’t know until she tried.

“Shall we go?” Ghan’s voice was warm in her ear and she gave a little start of surprise.

“Now?” Despite her wanting it, her voice was a nervous squeak and she was certain everyone else could hear the sudden pounding of her heart. And to think only a few hours ago she’d eagerly wanted to be with him while they’d been kissing, only for him to be the one who wanted to stop.

He inclined his head. “If you wish, if not, we can remain here too. Or whatever you’d like.”

She poked him in the shoulder, drawing a chuckle out of him. “Once again, my King, you put a hard decision in front of me.”

He laughed, drawing the eyes of those around them, and she blushed as she realized what she’d just said. Half-wishing she was still wearing her veil. The Gerudo around them let out a few good natured laughs, and one even called out advice that had Zelda blushing even more.

“They mean well,” Ghan murmured against her hair.

Zelda turned her own head, mostly to hide her face, and kissed his shoulder. “I know. I think...I would like to leave.”

He stood with a grace he really shouldn’t have had, and offered her his hand. She found herself shivering as she stepped closer to him, the warmth of him sinking into her. Guards in white began to follow, but Ghan stopped once they’d left the dining hall. “You are dismissed, Link,” he commanded with ease.

Link gave her the same questioning look they’d given her a few hours ago, this time she nodded. “Go have dinner,” she added, feeling her own blush begin to return in full force. She was strangely grateful Ghan had thought of it, because while everyone might know they were likely about to have sex, she’d rather not have her best friend possibly overhear.

Link gave a formal bow, then departed, while she and Ghan continued on.

By the time they reached Ghan’s rooms, not quite in the same hall as her own, but closer than she’d thought they’d be, she was a tense bundle of nerves, with only the barest whispers of excitement. When the doors closed behind them, she felt her nerves grow tenfold.

In an attempt to distract herself she looked around. This was only the sitting room, much like her own had, but it was more richly appointed. She felt their joined hands being lifted up, and blinked in surprise as she watched Ghan raised her hand up to kiss the palm of it. “Come.”

He began leading her towards a set of gilded doors, the metal embossed to show what were likely various events in Gerudo history, not that she had time to study them in-depth, for he pulled her past them and into the brightly lit bedroom.

All Zelda could focus on was the fact that the bed was vast, Zelda certain she could lie in the center and not be able to reach any of the sides, and piled high with far more pillows than it needed to have. It was lower to the ground than a Hylian bed would be, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the sight of Ghan sitting on it. A glint in his eye suggested he knew what she was about, and a yelp left her as she found herself being tugged towards him, ending up in his lap once more.

She thought he was going to kiss her again, instead he cupped her cheek, thumb rubbing across her cheekbone in a soothing manner. “You’re nervous.” His other hand settled on her bare waist, but did nothing more than rest there.

“I am,” she agreed, seeing no reason to hide it. Especially after she’d chided him about such things earlier. “I’ve read books, and imagined things while I touched myself,”—his eyes flashed dark—“but I’ve never done this.” She gestured to the whole of the room. 

He bent down, until he could press his forehead against her own, copper eyes burning into her own indigo ones. “I promise you, nothing will happen tonight that you do not ask for, or agree to.” He brushed their noses together, the tender gesture making her smile.

She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Ghan. Though right now I think I’m too nervous to even think of anything to suggest.” Her smile turned wry.

“Kissing?” He murmured as he tilted her face up. “Touching?”

Feeling breathless, if still nervous, she nodded. Sighing when his lips settled against hers again.

It was easy after a while to forget there was anything else, nerves beginning to calm. The hand on her waist began to drift up and she let out a moan as she felt it settle on her breast. She found herself returning the favor, one hand burying itself into the fabric of his sash, while the other settled against his own—strange, she would have thought a man’s nipple would feel different from her own. 

“Yes,” Ghan murmured against her lips. “Touch me too, let us learn each other this time.”

Emboldened she pushed the sash off his shoulder, smoothing her hands up the warm skin and firm muscles of his torso and chest. She scraped her nails against his skin and delighted in his gasp, using the opportunity to steal her tongue into his mouth.

The hand on her own breast squeezed, before shifting so fingers could pluck and she gave a soft cry at the tiniest flare of pain. “Your choli?” He panted now, breath warm against her own.

“Yes,” she panted back. Shimmying as his fingers undid knots and winding quickly.

When it fell away he drew back some, and she squirmed under the heat of his gaze as he stared at her breasts. Both his hands this time moved to cup them. Only to do so even more when he spoke. “Such perfect ripe fruits.” He bent his head down even more, his thin beard tickling her skin as he nuzzled the soft valley between her breasts. “Might I have a taste?”

“You...you may,” Zelda wished she could sound calm and collected. Her fingers tangled into his hair and she let out a whimper at the feel of his tongue against the side of her breast, drawing closer and closer until her whimper became another cry as it touched her nipple. “Ghan!” 

He sucked gently and she arched, enjoying the sensation but finding she wished it was more. “Ghan…” Her voice shook. He hummed against her breast, sending a jolt right through her. “In your letters…” They hadn’t all been filthy since her sixteenth birthday, but a good many of them had been. “Do you...really want to...eat me?” She honestly didn’t know if there was a better way to say it; it was his own fault anyways, for saying it would be a feast for him.

“Mmmm.” He placed a soft kiss on her breast, beard tickling slightly, before resting his head on her shoulder—which had to be uncomfortable for him, but he didn’t complain. “I do,” he answered. “But it can wait, we have years now to do whatever we wish. I can wait a few more days.”

“I…” Zelda pulled away from him. Fairly certain her knees knocked together as she stood, her fingers fumbling as she undid the knots holding her sirwal together and up. A shiver passed through her as they fell away, and she held her hands behind her back to keep herself from covering herself up again—the silky fabric of her sleeves tickled her skin, but she couldn’t be bothered to remove them. “I want it,” it even managed to sound like a declaration.

Ghan stared at her, and she felt her hips shift as she watched him lick his lips. “Lay on the bed,” his voice was rough.

It felt like she blinked and she was laying on the bed, Ghan above her. His large hands settled on her hips, the warmth of them almost comforting. His eyes met hers again. “Say no when you want me to stop.”

She nodded.

He pressed his lips against her jaw, kissing and nipping his way down her neck and breasts, his beard tickling her skin though she found she had no desire to laugh. On her belly he placed openmouthed kisses, tongue tracing abstract designs against her skin. By the time he reached her bellybutton she was panting and squirming all over again.

The hands on her hips shifted, and she squirmed for a whole different reason as he parted her legs. His thumbs petted her inner thighs in a soothing manner as he settled himself down. “Ghan?” Her voice trembled as she spoke after what felt like minutes of silence. All he was doing was staring again, and she didn’t know what to do.

“Apologies,” he turned his head and pressed a kiss against her thigh. “I only wished to admire the treasure you’d given me. Such a feast should not be consumed, my Princess, but savored.”

“You flatter me,” she managed to pant out, grateful her flushed skin hid her embarrassment.

“The truth,” just barely she could see him grin. “But you are right, that it is equally rude to only admire such delicacies without tasting them.”

Before she could manage to even think of a tart reply, his tongue stroked up her slit, giving only a ghost of a touch to her clit. “Ghan!” She gasped. Without thought her hands flew out, grasping his hair and his crown. The fact that he hadn’t taken it off sent a strange jolt through her, sending her rocking against his firm hold. She grasped it tighter, uncaring that her palm would be branded with snake scales. “My King.”

Yes, her king, crowned in glory and focused on her. She found her slit growing wetter at the heady thought.

“Such sweet nectar your flower gives,” he crooned against her mons. A strange, desperate sound escaped her when she felt his thumbs part her lips, opening her up further. “Such sweetly trembling petals.” He kissed her and Zelda found herself losing track of everything.

She thrashed as he sucked, and licked, and kissed, sounds she hadn’t known she could make slipping from her mouth as he consumed her—there was no better word for it. His own pleased sounds and purring rumbles adding another layer to the pleasure racing through her. “Ghan, Goddesses, please,” Princesses weren’t supposed to beg, but she couldn’t quite help herself.

His fingers tightened, and she suddenly didn’t care about bruises, her hips pressing against him as best they could as he began to focus on her clit. Her scream echoed through the room as she came, and while he let her clit alone he still lapped at her and she didn’t know if it was too much, or not enough.

The second orgasm was a complete and utter shock to Zelda. Her limp body seizing as she let out a whine.

Finally he pulled away, and Zelda was too exhausted to be anywhere near embarrassed at the sight of him, dripping and as filthy as anything in the erotic novels she’d read.

She watched through hooded eyes as he sat back on his heels and, perhaps a little unsuccessfully, tried to clean his face off. A breathy laugh escaped her as she tried to regain her strength, the grin he gave her in return was utterly self-satisfied and she found she couldn’t begrudge him it one bit.

“May I kiss you?” He asked as he settled against her side.

“You may,” she answered. She already knew her own taste—partly because he’d sounded so interested in it that she was curious to understand why—and wouldn’t mind tasting it on him. The kiss was softer than their earlier ones, and he did taste different, and she found herself wondering what he might taste like. Pulling away from him she smiled. “That was wonderful, thank you.”

He let out a huff. “I’m not sure how to feel about accepting thanks for something I enjoyed, but you’re welcome.”

“A Princess should always thank someone for a job well done,” she responded primly. His laughter warmed something in her chest and she could feel a smile tug at her own lips. Sitting up she pushed gently at his shoulder. “Now I believe I wish to see you in all your...hmmm, glory.”

Despite her words, when he rolled onto his back and began removing his own sirwal she looked away, finding she wanted it to be a surprise. When she felt him stop moving she straddled his torso, before finally letting herself look down. Zelda felt her eyes widen as she got her first good look at Ghan’s...scepter. She’d always known it was going to be big, but…

“Zelda?” Ghan’s warm hands settled on her waist, and she knew if she didn’t say anything soon, he would turn her around and say it could wait. Ending everything for the night.

She didn’t want to wait, however, as sweet as his consideration might be. She took a deep, bracing, breath. “Hylia’s tits.” Well, she hadn’t meant to say that.

Beneath her Ghan began to laugh again, the sound vibrating through her. Pursing her lips she reached out and pinched the skin of his inner thigh, his laughter cutting off with a yelp. “Blasphemy is no laughing matter.”

Those hands settled more firmly on her hips and a squeak escaped her as she felt him sit upright, his cock nestling against her folds, hard and nearly as hot as she felt. “You are right,” His breath was hot against her ear and she shivered, and again when he set his teeth against the shell under the ear tip she still wore.

“Shall I help you atone?” Before she could respond she felt his hands move to cup the underside of her thighs, and with ease he began to lift her up, her honey slicked thighs easing the way for his cock. She let out a breathless moan as he lifted her up enough that she could feel the head of him, even through his hood, against her clit. She expected him to move her, to make it easier for him to press in, instead he began to lower her again. Looking down she saw the dark head of him peek out between her thighs, hood rolled back by his lowering and her thighs alone. Why that thought made her squirm even more she didn’t know.

Then she was sitting fully in his lap again, only for him to begin lifting her all over again. “Ghan!” Her hands craned back to grab at him, his hair again, and a shoulder, his skin dimpling under her nails. “What?”

“You have the silly idea that one must suffer to atone, yes?” She felt his lips press against the back of her head.

She wanted to say something about how now was not the time for an argument over religion, but then she was at the top of his shaft again. That head teasing her lips and clit with the idea of fullness before escaping from between her thighs again and she wailed in frustration. “Fuck me,” perhaps later she’d feel bad that she screeched it at him, but right now she just wanted satisfaction.

Ghan purred and somehow she could feel it in her clit. “Such sweet demands you sing. I did promise to do as you asked.” He began lifting her again. “Yet I find myself wishing to paint you with my seed, lick you clean until I have gorged myself on milk and honey.”

Another wail left her because what was she supposed to say to that. “S-stop,” it left her before she could think, but that was part of the problem wasn’t it?

Seemingly in a flash she was off his lap and settled on the much safer territory of his knees. “Zelda?” One of his hands was on her face, thumb rubbing against her cheek again.

“Can’t…” She took a few deep breaths, her body pulsing with need. “Can’t think.” She screwed her eyes shut, trying to draw up every focusing technique she’d ever learned to gather her scattered mind. When she opened them again she might not have been composed, but she felt like she could form sentences again. “I want to have sex with you.” Which felt almost funny to say, considering everything.

“I am pleased to hear that, but clearly something’s bothering you.” He sounded concerned, and for a moment she leaned her face into his hand, grateful for the comfort.

Closing her eyes, because if she could pretend that this was just some lesson she was reciting then maybe she wouldn’t turn into a tomato again. “Sex is...oral, or vaginal, or anal.” Well, it seemed it didn’t do any good, because she could feel her cheeks flushing again. “What you said...that wasn’t sex.” She opened her eyes again, meeting his own and hoping he understood.

“Those are sex,” that he agreed was a relief. She found herself being lifted once more, his lips pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “But I think in our relationship, we could call anything we wish sex, so long as we both agree. I see sex as anything that can make pleasure regardless of what goes where.” He gave a little sigh. “Perhaps we should have talked about that more than teasing each other with words and imaginings.”

Zelda could only nod. “Then, can we...talk about it later? I…” She squirmed. “I want you inside me.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then let out another sigh. “Have you had anything other than fingers inside you?” He looked away, as if embarrassed to be asking such a question. “I am not typical, and it might hurt if you are not prepared.”

“No,” she answered honestly, only a little less embarrassed. Her memory from two years ago was still strong, that urge to have wanted more than his fingers. “I can take it,” it perhaps didn’t come out the declaration she wished.

“No,” he replied back. “You think you can, but I’m not willing to risk it. We’ll take it slow, because I don’t want to hurt you.” She felt him stand, and still carrying her, began walking towards a door she hadn’t noticed before. On the other side was a large bath, the water that came out of the taps steaming slightly. He set her down with care, then reached for her hair. Her hair didn’t fall away, but she felt it loosen. “That’s mine,” thankfully it sounded playful. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him use one of her own hairpins to hold up most of his own hair.

“I’ll give it back,” he replied with a grin. “Get in the tub.”

She did, surprised he followed soon after. She would have thought he would get soaps or something for them. Her confusion must have shown on her face, because as he pulled her close he spoke again. “Just a soak, I think we both could do with some relaxing.” It seemed like a highly wasteful thing, considering they were in the desert, but she trusted he knew what they could spare better than she.

So instead she let herself ask another question. “What do you mean by slow?” Because she did want him sooner, rather than later, perhaps a little uncaring of what pain might be involved. She could take it. It was just now that she could have it, she didn’t want to wait any longer.

“I mean.” He gathered her hands in one of his own, and she let out a sound of shocked surprise, when he guided them to wrap around his cock. “That I won’t penetrate you with this, tonight. Perhaps not even in the next few weeks.”

“I don’t want to wait that long,” she told him simply. “I feel like I've waited too long already, I want you.” She followed his pumping motions. Even if she was frustrated, she found herself enjoying the feel of him in her hands, the way his cock twitched and darkened.

As their hands slid up again, he showed her how to tease the underside of his crown, which made him grunt and pant. “I want you too,” he groaned. “But I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated. “Neither of us have had sex.” She found herself pleased by his admission that in practice he likely knew as much as her. “I know I won’t fit as untried as you are. You,” he groaned again as she rubbed his slit, fluid spurting out. “You can lick it,” which she was certain was not what he originally was going to say.

Not that she was going to argue. Mindful of her hair she dipped her head down, giving his head a lick, the fluid was salty and thin. She continued to lick, and she found herself smiling as she looked up at him through her lashes. Pleased to see his head thrown back and his hands gripping the edge of the tub tightly.

Emboldened, she lowered her head further, mouth stretching wide enough to ache as she took the head of him inside her mouth.

Perhaps, she found herself thinking, perhaps he has a point. She rubbed her tongue against the underside of his crown before pulling her head off, doing her best to ease the ache in her jaw. With a sigh, she nuzzled him, lapping up the spurt of precome that followed. “I’ll wait, for now. Though I reserve the right to change my mind later, and try to convince you.”

“So considerate,” he got out through gritted teeth.

She laughed in delight before she resumed stroking him, doing her best to catalog every twitch and groan. “I still want to taste you,” she told him seriously.

His head tilted down, molten copper eyes entrancing. “Then make me come.”

With a shudder she did her best. Touching and licking him as best she could. Until finally he shouted and she recoiled with a yelp as he began to pump out ropes of come. Letting him go she gathered some in her hands, watching him as he relaxed while she licked them clean. Not much different than the precome she’d tasted, though certainly thicker.

When her hands were clean she ducked her head down to lick off his chest. “Greedy,” he said with a breathless laugh.

“Always,” she agreed with a grin.

Ghan’s hand carefully cupped the back of her head. “We should probably undo some of this if you wish to sleep comfortably.”

Pulling away slightly she gave a nod, not interested in sleeping in any of her jewelry. She looked at him through her lashes. “Then I get to help you too,” she shot back. Certain he didn’t sleep with that ring in his hair. “I’ll help you first,” she said as she stood up, water sloshing as she climbed out of the tub. The air was cool against her skin and she shivered as she broke out in gooseflesh.

“You just want your hairpin back,” he returned. Though he did move against the edge of the tub, so she could unwind his hair and keep it dry. She moved closer at how much warmer he was.

“Perhaps,” she agreed. Before she removed the pin though her fingers fumbled at the leather strips that held the gorget together, managing to remove it without accidently dropping it. She didn’t dare to try and undo the braid itself, instead carefully removing his crown before working her way down to remove the jewels and metal clasps. “Would you like to know what my first thought about you was, when we first met?”

He gave an answering hum, and when she looked up from her work, she smiled to see his eyes were closed.

“I realized that, back then, if you’d undone your hair, I could have wrapped myself in it completely. I guess I could still do it now,” she continued. “But it does seem quite silly as a whole.”

Another hum, this time in agreement. “Yes, I think I’d much prefer you to wear other things of mine. Though it is good to know that should the worst befall us, you can still wear my hair,” he replied dryly.

She didn’t bother to hide her laugh. Holding the end of his hair up—the ring really was heavy, she didn’t know how he could just carry it around like he did—so she could remove the feather, before tackling the problem of the ring itself.

Eventually she got it, and set it in the pile, a small king’s ransom in precious metals and jewels.

Ghan stood, and she squeaked at the sudden view of his ass. “You next, Princess.”

Instead of climbing back into the tub, she tucked her legs under her to sit on her heels. Shivering again, still not used to being so naked in front of anyone. She felt him settle in behind her, warm fingers against her neck making her jump a little. He didn’t say anything in response as he undid the clasp on her own necklace. Zelda found her following his hands as he took it off and laid it gently next to his own pile of jewelry.

His hands returned, beginning to work on her earrings and she squirmed. He paused. “Sensitive?” His voice was husky.

Blushing, she nodded. “Though most Hylians are,” she found herself explaining. For no reason she could discern.

A thoughtful hum left him as his hands resumed their work. “Would you like to know another secret from our first meeting? Since you were so kind to share one with me?”

“You don’t have to,” she found herself answering.

“But I wish to,” he replied firmly. “So, then. Our first meeting should not have been our first, but I wished to see the one my mothers had decided I was to be with. Kings do not marry, yet here my mother was discussing such things with the Mothers. So I snuck into the caravan when it left for Hyrule.”

Zelda blinked. “How?” She asked without meaning to. “You’re...um,” she blushed. “Hard to miss.”

Pleased laughter left him. “I can be quite sneaky when I wish, something I’m sure my mother regrets teaching me. I managed to remain hidden until we reached Hyrule proper, by then it was too late to turn back, so they had no choice but to let me accompany them. Though I was in quite a lot of trouble when we returned.”

A giggle escaped Zelda at the image that conjured. 

“Not quite that amusing at the time,” warmth filled Ghan’s voice. “But I do not regret my decision, even then.”

“I’m glad you did, too,” Zelda said.

His fingers massaged at her scalp, making her melt a little. “There. Shall we retire to bed?” He stepped away from her and reached into the tub to pull the plug. “Putting everything away can wait for morning.”

Nerves tangled inside Zelda once more, but she still rose to her feet as she nodded.

Sleep...was going to be an interesting experience.

-

Pain woke Zelda quickly.

Before her mind could completely figure out what was going on, her body acted. Rolling her off the bed and on to the cold stone floor. The barest sliver of moonlight crept in through the open balcony, so she muttered a light cantrip, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out when she raised her right hand to better illuminate the room.

Ghan thrashed on the bed, sweat dotting his brow. Her heart ached, but first, but first.

Lifting her left arm didn’t hurt, good. Carefully she felt along her right side, blinking back tears when she reached her ribs. She took as deep a breath as she dared, it hurt, but not as deeply as it should have if the lung had been pierced, or collapsed. He’d only cracked or fractured her ribs then, hopefully.

Refusing to look down, she instead watched him as she rested her hand atop her injury and began to hum. Magic flowed to the rhythm, but even as it sank in she knew she’d have to do this more than once to be fully healed.

Finishing the first round she tested the area, her ribs hurt less, and it no longer hurt to breath, thank Hylia. On the bed Ghan cried out, and she winced as a pillow exploded in his hands. No wonder he’d feared hurting her. It seemed to be worse though now, when she wasn’t in the bed…

Taking a deep breath she sang the tune softly this time. Yes, she realized, the music was affecting him too. The thrashing didn’t stop but it did lessen. She would have thought music would have already been tried, and it wasn’t as if the Song of Healing was uncommon. Or, had they not thought to try it because the song was meant for injuries, not nightmares?

She wouldn’t think he would be so prideful to not admit to an injury. Not for years.

Her skin was still tender as she finished the second song. Finally she made herself look down, wincing at the mottled bruise that covered a good portion of her torso. Ghan was going to hate himself in the morning, nevermind that she’d known the risk.

A third time, and she could feel her belly begin to grumble with hunger, exhaustion swamping over her. Gritting her teeth she pushed on, she didn’t think she could manage a fourth time, but she could at least ease the bruising. 

Knees shaking she finally finished, stomach twisting for a whole other reason as Ghan grew violence once more. Her mind didn’t want to work, and it was a struggle to try and recall any songs that the Gerudo might not know, that wouldn’t cost her more magic, and might ease his nightmares.

When she finally did recall a song, she almost wanted to laugh. The old family lullaby left her easily and she watched Ghan, hoping it would work.

Relief rushed through her as she watched him calm, though as she got closer she could still see his eyes moving rapidly behind his lids. So it might calm the body, but it wasn’t stopping the nightmares.

Careful of her bruises, Zelda climbed back into the bed, settling his head in her lap, she stroked his hair as she hummed the lullaby over and over again. Please, Hylia, may his nightmares not last the night.

Notes:

in which this chapter could have also been titled "Characters fighting me tooth and nail over admitting attraction, and having sex."

Chapter 10: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

Ghan awoke to the moaning of the wind and hissing sand. Cracking his eyes open, he stared out towards the balcony, his usual view obscured. With a half-hearted groan he flicked his wrist and the partition rattled shut, closing the room off from the sandstorm.

The bed shifted and he turned his head the other way to see Zelda curled up against his side, fast asleep.

Perfect, she won’t even have the chance to resist, let alone be able to escape a maze…

Gritting his teeth he made himself turn away from her. He’d had nightmares then, that cruel voice inside him always managed to worm its way free after he’d had them. Even as he wrestled it back into it’s box, it didn’t let up. You know you want to, she’ll be exactly what you want if you do, and no one will be the wiser. How satisfying will that be? Perhaps it might even fill…

He didn’t let himself feel relief until he passed a whole minute in silence. Though he knew if he wasn’t careful it might win free again.

It was a different sort of struggle to look at Zelda again, lifting the sheet carefully to examine her as best he could. Wincing when he spotted a bruise—it looked old, but he knew full well it hadn’t been there when they’d gone to sleep—that disappeared beneath her. So he’d hurt her like he’d said he would, but she had been warned and decided it was worth the risk. Which didn’t do much to ease the guilt.

Inside him the voice was trying to speak again, but it was only sound, as easy to ignore as the storm outside. Harder to ignore was the emptiness inside him; so he’d been a fool to hope someone else might fill it, it seemed. But he’d grown used to it over the years, and it was bearable to an extent.

Watching Zelda as she slept didn’t ease any of the tension inside him, but it did calm him, after a fashion. Easy to focus on her, and not think about anything else. He wasn’t in a rush, after all, not with the storm raging.

“You will be better,” he reminded himself quietly. He wouldn’t dishonor the last words of the previous King, not if he could help it. They might have been broken in the same way, perhaps all the Alunshay had been, but Ghan would take the knowledge the past had given him and use it as best he could.

Zelda murmured again beside him, shifting restlessly. Reaching out he gently brushed a finger against the discoloration under her eye. She must have found some way to soothe him, if she’d risked climbing back into bed with him, how long has she done it for beforehand? “I thought I had taken you for my partner, not my nurse,” he sighed.

Her eyes fluttered open, still half-hazy with sleep. “Morning.” She gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “Did you say something?”

“No,” a lie, but she didn’t need his guilt, not yet at least. “A good morning to you as well, would you like me to call up breakfast?” He was hungry too, but he’d grown used to waiting when need be. Though fasting likely did him no favors. 

“Shouldn’t we go to the Hall?” She sat upright, revealing her pretty breasts, and the rest of the bruising. She must have followed his gaze because her own eyes narrowed. “I’m fine,” she said firmly. “I agreed to it, and can handle some pain.” 

Ghan shook his head, then spoke to clarify. “We don’t need to go down, no one would be there anyways. Listen.” He wouldn’t say anything about hurting her, not until he could say something that wasn’t driven by guilt.

“Oh.” She cocked her head, the tips of her ears twitching. He gladly let himself be distracted by the thought of leaning down and nibbling on them. “You know, I might have known sandstorms were real, but they never actually seemed real.” Her cheeks pinkened. “If that makes sense.” She crossed her arms, bit her lip, then her blush raced down her throat.

A chuckle left him, and giving in he bent down and laid a kiss against her jaw. “It makes perfect sense. For a time it seemed water could never gather in anything larger than an oasis, then Like Hylia proved me wrong.” He still didn’t quite believe it was a lake, but he wouldn’t challenge Hylian naming conventions about it. His hand moved to rest on the uninjured side of her waist. “Would you like me to heal it for you?” He could feel traces of lingering magic, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know how bad the initial harm had been.

“Y-yes.” She sounded quite lovely when her breath hitched like that. “Also, breakfast would be good,” she said firmly. As if the presence of food might forstall anything else. Granted her enthusiasm last night would suggest she might be open to such things, but he was certain there would need to be quite a lot of talking first, considering.

“Then I shall be right back.” He gave her a brief kiss before standing to leave the bedroom.

“Sh-shouldn’t you dress? ” When he looked over his shoulder her indigo eyes were wide, and quite fixated on his torso.

A pleased laugh left him, Goddess she was a delight. “Afraid anyone will see what is yours?” He grinned. Deciding not to mention that most everyone here had seen him naked, she might likely combust.

She appeared as if she might anyways, her blush now reaching her breasts. It was very hard to resist the urge to return to bed and see if he could tease that blush down further. “I just...I don’t think wandering around naked would be very...comfortable?”

“You needn’t worry, Zelda, I’m only going to ask the guards to bring something. And they’re far too well trained to stare.”

“O-oh.” Her embarrassment seemed to be all encompassing now. “Should I dress?”

He blinked at her for a moment, not quite sure why she was asking him. “You can dress or not, it’s your choice,” he stressed. His stomach reminding him of the goal, he finally left the bedroom, reaching the main door he opened it enough to stick his head out.

It seemed he was only half-right about his claim about well trained guards, for while Utenu only came to attention, Link looked, blinked, looked again, before firmly staring ahead, red creeping up their pale cheeks. “If breakfast could be brought up, that would be greatly appreciated.” He bit back his grin at Link's blush, amusement enough to cover his own tugging attraction for now—it'd been so long since he'd felt it, he'd almost convinced himself he'd made it up all those years ago. 

“Of course, my King.” Utenu inclined her head, then gave a sharp look to Link. Who seemed more than happy to be the one to rush off to the kitchens.

Ghan snorted in lieu of a sigh. Torturing Link didn't do either of them favors, they and Zelda were still likely too Hyrulean to allow themselves multiple partners, even if Ghan himself were open to it. “Do knock before you bring the food in,” he told her dryly.

Her lips tugged in an attempt to smile, but she held it back. “Yes, my King.”

To his surprise, Zelda was still naked when he returned to the bedroom, painting a quite fetching picture as she rooted around in his desk. “Snooping already?”

With a yelp she whirled around, a book clutched to her chest. “Sorry! I was just, looking for something to read. I didn’t know how long you’d be…” Book still in her hands, she put it behind her, setting it back down. “Um…”

“It’s fine, Zelda.” He walked over to her, picking the book up. “Though perhaps I would recommend something other than farming practices, if you wish to stay awake.” Putting it back on the shelf with the other books he picked her up and carried her to the bed. “Now, let’s take a look.”

He went through a few brief tests, and she admitted she’d already healed most of it herself like he’d thought. He carefully chose not to ask, because it wouldn’t make either of them feel better about the whole situation. As gently as he could he rested a hand over the mottled green and yellow bruises and focused himself.

When he finished, there was knocking on the door, he was hungrier than before, and Zelda appeared surprised.

“I’ll get the door.” Link was likely among the people carrying food, so he’d spare the poor vuei and wear something this time. Zelda’s giggle was worth making a fool of himself trying to walk and put on sirwal at the same time. “You can come out to eat whenever you’re ready.”

He was careful to step aside as he opened the door, wise enough to keep himself out of the way of the small stream of voe carrying various platters of food. One of them was Link, but they were gone in a seeming flash, Ghan perhaps didn’t feel as bad about about it as he should have, it was a good lesson that things here would be different—he had a feeling if that sort of thing happened with Hyrulean nobles, things there would be much different.

Zelda didn’t appear until after the other voe had left, haphazardly dressed in her own clothes. To his surprise she didn’t comment on the amount of food, only sat, and began eating with a studied application Ghan knew very well.

Ghan joined her, content to let the quiet be for now.

After they had cleared all the plates, Zelda fell back on a cushion, letting out a little groan. “What...what is the plan for today? What do we...do ?”

“Today? Not much,” he looked at the carved shutters that had been drawn here too, rattling occasionally with a strong wind. “The storm will keep everyone inside, hopefully it won’t last long.” Though it could also last days. “In general, I oversee the more important parts of running the town, but my Gerudo mainly look after themselves. I only become important when there’s a problem the Chief Guides can’t solve,” he answered with a wry grin.

“Couldn’t you...move the storm? I could feel the power you were drawing from…” She chewed on her lip for a moment. “You have more raw power than almost anyone I’ve ever met.” She, thankfully, didn’t sound afraid of that fact, just...caught off guard.

He nodded. “I could, but where? The farmlands are to the west, and it would ruin them. The south and east are home to the wandering tribes, and it would be a poor gift for their bravery. No one would send it north where it could become ramont’sa.” Though he’d heard tell from many Rito, and the last King’s own words, that the land to the north was quite pleasant. Which just went to prove that just because something was pleasing, didn’t mean it was good.  “We will survive it, perhaps a little battered, but we know we can handle it.”

Her expression was thoughtful. “Yes.” She blew out a long breath. “You’re right, I should have thought more before asking. Actions have consequences, for good or ill.” She sounded like she was quoting someone. Before he could ask though, she continued. “So we’re, what, figureheads?”

“Hardly,” he answered. “Though my people do take a certain amount of pride at being able to keep me in the fashion they think befits a king.” Always a careful balancing act, survival versus expectation. “I have power, I am the son of Din herself, proof that we truly are her Gerudo, her chosen people. I watch over all my people, and keep them safe, which does take work, but it is the sort that is spread out, and seemingly minute in the day to day.”

“Are you, though?” Zelda turned her head, for a moment her indigo eyes seemed alien to him, as if someone else looked through them. “The stories I grew up with say the Golden Three made Hyrule, then left, hoping that would keep it safe from Calamity-Demise, only leaving Hylia to guard us, well, Hylia and the Triforce. No mentions of a child of Din, or anything of the like.”

“I cannot speak to your stories,” he replied with a shrug. “Only point out that Hyrule has not always been kind to us. Our story says that Din came to us, and brought those that wished to go with her here, promising her son to us every hundred years, to lead and guide us.”

She rolled onto her side, biting her lip again, before speaking. “Do you...do you really believe you’re the same person as the Demon King?”

He should have expected the question, though perhaps sooner even than this. Granted, having it asked to his face, instead of in a letter, could be considered the better option. “Exactly the same person? I do not believe so, no. The same spirit? Yes, that I do believe, if one six hundred years older.” If not with the experience those six hundred years should have given, so many Alunshay cut down before they could know what they were capable of. Before they’d learned how to live.

Pushing herself upright, Zelda crawled over to him and straddled his lap, a prospect he would have enjoyed more if not for the conversation. “I am not sure I can believe it, Ghan.” Goddess how he loved to hear her say that, as much as he enjoyed her possessive ‘King.’ “The last Gerudo King that I know of was...not a good person.” He almost laughed at her attempt at being diplomatic. “You are as far from him as I can imagine.”

“Perhaps.” It was kind of her to say, though she likely didn’t know the whole story. “But he didn’t start out evil, no one ever does.”

She looked like she wanted to argue something, but instead she nodded. “But he made choices that he didn’t have to, even if he did them for good reasons.”

“How very wise,” he said dryly. She looked away and gave an uncomfortable squirm. Sighing, he bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Let me ask my mother to show you the King’s Archive, perhaps your Hylian eyes will see something I have not.”

“Why not you?” She looked at him again, thank the Goddess, eyes curious.

“I would like some time alone, if you feel comfortable with my mother.” They seemed to have gotten along well yesterday, but Zelda had likely wanted Sobik to like her. As for himself, the voice hadn’t returned, but that didn’t mean being by himself for a while wouldn’t do him good. If only to regain more control.

A little frown crossed her face, but she eventually nodded. “Alright. Though I don’t see how I’m going much of anywhere with this sandstorm.”

Ghan let himself grin.

-

The whole town had tunnels, a solution Zelda should have thought of herself really. Though she was surprised the earth here allowed for it, especially since she hadn’t felt any magic shoring it up.

Lost in thought she turned the corner in the Archives, which were a delight. Glancing up briefly, she let out a shriek when she came face to face with a skull.

“Zelda?” Sobik’s concerned voice floated over from a few rows away.

“I’m fine,” Zelda managed to answer. Her heart refused to slow as she tried to calm herself.

If this were the Archive of all the Kings who had come before, of course there would be a skull. Beyond the topaz resting on the forehead, and the size, she wouldn’t have thought it was the skull of the Demon King himself. With a shaking hand, she reached out to touch it, only to feel cool bone, and a faint static from the topaz itself. No evil, no visions, just a skull.

Should she really have expected any different? Supposedly the Sheikah had once been able to command the dead; but such arts had been lost, among so many others, during the Quake. There was no way for her to demand answers, except in what he’d written. 

Though honestly, Zelda didn’t know what she was looking for. Explanation? Something to validate, or repudiate, her fears?

She picked one of the books off the shelf under the skull and opened it towards the end. The handwriting was looping and fine, she found herself barely surprised. The Demon King already seemed so full of contradictions, what was one more?

...Desire is not a problem to be solved, it is the wild beast unwilling to be tamed. It’s voice is the madness that the north wind carries with it, and none can escape even the barest whisper. Even I, who can walk the spirit roads and make the world bow to me, cannot sway it. It has been my constant companion since I was a child, and I fear, if given the chance to escape, I would remain within it’s clutches...

Zelda shivered, putting the book back. She...she could almost understand the emotion in those words, understand why he might have been driven so.

She retreated from the shelves, back towards Sobik. The older woman had her eyes closed, hands hovering over a coil of dark red braided hair. While she waited for her to finish, Zelda wondered how many Gerudo Kings had gone to war, and survived it.

“Yes, Zelda?” Sobik’s voice made her jump, and the woman’s golden-brown eyes were warm with amusement when Zelda turned her attention back.

“What...What was Ghan like, as a child?” Carefully she sat on a carved wooden bench, merely practical for anyone who might visit? Or had some ancient King made it?

Sobik gave a little sigh, and joined her on the bench. “I did my best to let him grow up as any child might, but I am certain there are times when I could not give him that kindness. For he might die should others know who he was, so I cautioned him to secrecy, pushed him to choose the path of a vai when he was old enough to give up the green of childhood. For five Alunshay before him had died, and who knew how his Mother might react to a sixth time? Might she decide we no longer deserved her blessings, break the contract we have had for thousands of years?” Sobik shook her head. “I refused to fail my people so.

“Though perhaps you should ask him that question yourself,” she continued. “For I cannot know the mind of my son.” Another sigh. “Though you might have to push some, I am afraid my caution might have pushed him to hoard secrets as a roc hoards trinkets.”

Zelda managed a little laugh. “I’ve already come across that once,” she said.

A nod of agreement. “Yes, I heard the voe in the kitchen speaking of you being with him this morning. I am glad to see you are uninjured.”

“Yes.” Zelda decided not to tell her she had been injured, it served no real purpose. “Do you...have you figured out what might be the cause?” Perhaps together they could come up with a solution.

“No,” Sobik answered. “It is no ailment of the mind, nor a curse, for what I have gathered. But that it is a curse is all I can think it to be. Yet if that is so, it is unlike any I have come across before, woven so deep into his very being that I cannot even pick out the thread of it to pull it free.”

Taking a deep breath, Zelda drew herself up to her full height, meeting Sobik’s gaze. “If, if it is possible, I would like to learn what you can teach me. I mean, I know I’m voe...though I’ve trained as vai, so I guess that makes me the strangest sort of vuei…” Warm fingers pressed against her lips, cutting her off. Zelda could already feel the blush crossing her cheeks.

“I understand, child,” Sobik said with a smile. “I cannot teach you now, and perhaps not ever. But have some patience, as we shall see. If it is to be yes, I do not think it will be for a while yet. Settle in first, make yourself a place in my son’s household, before you go seeking new and strange knowledge that will lead you down unknown paths.”

Zelda nodded. “I understand, thank you.”

-

Over the next week, Link’s life settled into a pattern very familiar to her. She trained in the mornings, ate breakfast, than began her guard duty—thankful that she’d never been given night duty. She and Zelda might have been friends, close friends even, but outside of lessons they had never talked about sex, or even kissing. So knowing her best friend was having it, was all Link felt she needed to know; and perhaps it was more than she wanted to know, especially considering what she’d seen. Which did nothing to help the itching that always seemed to come with the King’s presence, or the the fact that Link was apparently drawn to him.

Link did her best to put that out of her mind completely as she stepped into the King’s sitting room. The King himself was on a cushion, a lap table balanced across his knees, and a second one next to him which held a pot of tea—likely where the scent of turmeric was coming from that was making Link’s nose itch—and a plate of whole fruits.

“Link, good.” The King glanced at her briefly, and Link half-expected him to be doing it over the rim of a pair of glasses—an image Link would not laugh at. “Have a seat. Tea?”

Sitting carefully, she shook her head.  “Thank you, though.”

“It is my job to make sure all of my subjects are comfortable,” the King said, almost absently, as he put away the pile of papers he’d been reading through. “So then, have you been settling in alright? Any more problems like in the stable?”

Link was genuinely, utterly, flabbergasted. A King asking her that? King Nossalph certainly never would have.

“No,”  she finally answered, fingers fumbling. “Nothing like that. And it’s been...fine, I guess.” Goddesses, how else was she supposed to respond to that.

The King nodded. Reaching over he picked up a pomegranate from the tray next to him, a small knife appearing in his hands. “Good. Should you have any problems that you cannot solve on your own, you are welcome to come to me, as any other Gerudo is.” The scent of pomegranate filled the air as he began to cut into it. “Speaking of, my offer from our first meeting still stands, if you wish I will add you to the records of the Gerudo as I will be adding Zelda.”

Which only required a nod of agreement, to her relief. Link not exactly being opposed to the whole concept, certainly not enough to refuse it. “Thank you.” Thankfully it didn’t bite to thank him, considering how their second meeting had gone.

“Then it shall be so on Din’s Day.” Setting the knife down, the King’s broad fingers pushed carefully into the fruit and pried it open. Link did her very best not to squirm as she watched, shoving any and all thoughts of what else he might open that carefully out of her mind.

He was Zelda’s husband, for all intents and purposes, and thus off limits, nevermind that he was King and Link only a guard.

“Speaking of Din’s Day,” the King continued, seeming to have not noticed Link’s crisis. “I invite you to participate in the celebrations as you see fit. Though more importantly, a week after the day, Zelda and I shall be leaving for Holodrum, you will accompany us.” There was the sort of behavior Link expected from Kings.

“I understand.” It wasn’t a surprise that she was being told this, even though it was still almost three months until they’d leave. Royal trips took months to plan and organize alone. “How long?”

“Two weeks,” the King answered. Carefully he set the slivers of pomegranate on his lap desk, though not before offering one to Link, who took it without thought. “Traveling there doesn't take long, though you should speak with Anure about getting snowquill gear, the mountains will be cold, even in the middle of summer.”

Despite her tangled thoughts towards the King, the promise of travel, of crossing mountains, did thrill something inside of Link. To be able to see even more of the world than she ever could have expected growing up a gift. “I’ll do that. Is there anything else?”  Somehow she managed to ask, even with her hands full. Carefully she extracted half the seeds, shoving them into her mouth all at once, to make it easier. Sweet-tartness filled her mouth as she chewed.

“No,” there was amusement in the King’s voice. “That is all. You may return to your duties.”

Link did her best not to give off the air of fleeing as she bowed and left.

-

Zelda took a few deep breaths, picking off an imaginary hair from her sirwal, before opening the door and stepping into Ghan’s sitting room, that he didn’t have an office still caught her off guard, there were certainly enough rooms.

He gave her a warm smile as she came to sit across from him. While she waited for him to finish whatever he was working on, she made herself a cup of tea—thankfully it was one of those fermented Holodrum teas which she much preferred—and nibbled on a fruit pastry. She liked watching him anyways, trying to interpret every new facial expression she saw as he worked. 

Now that it had been almost a month since she’d arrived, she should start pushing for some work of her own. She was doing her best to take Sobik’s words to heart though, settling herself in before trying to reach for things, technically, beyond her. 

“So then, Zelda dear.” Ghan reached for her and she let herself be pulled onto his lap, happily settling against his warmth. “What brings you here?”

She rested her palm against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “I wanted to let you know that I was going to make a petition tonight.”

It felt like she’d stumbled through her words, but his raised eyebrows suggested he understood her well enough. “I’m certain I’ve never been warned of a petition before,” he said dryly. “Though I think it defeats something of the purpose.”

“I just...don’t want you to misunderstand,” she responded. She moved, so that she was straddling his lap, easier to look him in the eye, somewhat. “Because I’m not trying to upend the way things are, I just feel...our unique situation perhaps requires something...different.”

That he managed to raise his eyebrows even more made her lips twitch in a smile. “Mmmm, I see, so then what is it you are wishing to do?”

She made herself stare only at his eyes, even though she wanted to look at anything else. This was important and she wanted to get it right so that he understood. “I know, I know that the Gerudo don’t really do marriages, so I can’t really be partner like the others have.” She was finding the concept easier to grasp now that she was among it. “But…” she took a deep breath. “Every time they call me ‘consort’ I, I feel like there’s some ticking clock that I can’t hear or see, and that when it runs out I’ll be put aside.” His expression darkened and she rushed to continue before he could say anything. “I know that’s not what it is, Ghan, we have King, and Queen, Consorts all the time in Hyrule, even if it means something different. I just...consort feels so temporary, and I don’t want that.

“So that’s what I’m going to do tonight, I was going to petition for a new title.” Thankfully she didn’t have to go far to sag against him, all her courage leaving her in a rush now that she’d said her piece.

A thoughtful sound left him as his hands settled on her waist, lips pressing against the top of her head. “I don’t understand, but I see that it’s important to you.” His thumb stroked the edge of her sirwal contemplatively. “Granted I don’t see how signing a piece of paper makes things more ‘official’ than people living together, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that you Hyruleans are strange that way.” There was a fond note in his voice, but that didn’t stop her from letting out a huff.

“It’s not just a paper and you know it, Ghan,” she replied, just as fondly. “If it was just signing a paper I don’t think the Hytopian designers pounding down my door would be quite so desperate to have me pick them to make me a dress.” The next royal to be married wouldn’t be for another ten or so years, after all. “There’s a ceremony, with lots of praying, and talking, and a general showing off of how wealthy we are.” She rolled her eyes.

“Which is also utterly baffling, except for the showing off bit.” She laughed, and felt a warmth in her chest to see his quick grin. His fingers settled under her chin, tilting her face back up. “But I am still willing to do it, baffling bits and all. Though I hardly care if you do it in a dress, sirwal and choli, or rags.” He kissed the tip of her nose as she let out another brief laugh.

“So then, a title more like partner? A curious challenge you’ve set for me, though you’re right that it will ruffle more than a few feathers.” He kissed her nose a second time. “I’ll accept your petition when you give it, but in return.” He drew away slightly so they could look each other in the eye again. “I want you to accept that, until I give you this new title, I won’t attempt to penetrate you with my penis, and that you won’t try to convince me to do it. Is that acceptable.”

Zelda nodded. “Yes, I can live with that. So when I get the title, you’ll finally do it?” Her voice turned a little breathless at the thought. She’d been enjoying the time they spent together in bed, when she didn’t have to deal with his nightmares, but she very much did want to know what it would feel like to have him inside her finally. 

“Yes.” His agreement sent a different sort of rush through her.

“Then I agree to your proposal.” Even if he didn’t give her a name tonight, she was certain he was clever enough to come up with something in a week or so.

-

Ghan lounged on the pillows that functioned as his throne—certain that they had to be far more comfortable than that ostentatious chair he’d seen in Hyrule castle. Nakeri and her partner Timair bowed before retreating.

“Are there any others who would seek my wisdom?” He asked. “Or shall I call an end to this gathering?” That it was getting late was no matter, he would stay and offer counsel and aid for as long as it was needed, but the petitioners had grown fewer and fewer. Though Zelda had yet to make her own petition.

No response came from the Gerudo, which Zelda seemed to take as a sort of sign. Rising gracefully from her spot next to him and moving to prostrate herself before him—though he was focused on work, he still let himself have a moment of appreciation for the sight, and entertaining the idea of it happening again later. “I would seek your wisdom, my King, if you would give it.”

Whispers began in the crowd, though they cut out at his glance. “What wisdom is it that you seek?”

She rose from prostration to kneeling, though kept her gaze respectfully averted. “Your wisdom and knowledge of language, my King. To be your consort is a great honor, yet I would seek a different title, if it pleases you. I know there can be no Gerudo Queen, nor is there a need of a War Chief. But by the very nature of how we came to be partnered, I believe consort is not a great enough title.”

More whispers, though they died as quickly as the first wave. Ghan didn’t have a doubt that the whole desert would know of this by sunrise, and he’d receive a whole host of opinions and thoughts on the matter.

“You are right, Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, that our arrangement is not typical of how things are done. And that perhaps a new title should be fashioned should such a thing happen again. I cannot give you an answer now, of course, for such a thing takes time and deliberation. Consideration as well, for I do not wish to dishonor the past in forging the future.

“So then, I shall bequeath this new title to you on Din’s Day, for a new path should rightly begin on the new year.”

She finally looked at him, eyes narrowing as she realized he’d outplayed her. Even so, she bent down again, forehead touching the rug. “I thank you for agreeing to my suit, oh great King, and that you seek to give this the deliberation it is due,” her words were perhaps a little sharper than before, but still cloaked in respect. “I will await your answer with baited breath.” She glanced at him through her lashes, her gaze perhaps promising a little revenge.

He found himself almost looking forward to it.

-

It perhaps took a few days before Zelda had the perfect moment to strike, but she took ruthless advantage of the opportunity when it arose.

Ghan looked down at her, expression mildly befuddled, as she knelt and began undoing the knots of his sirwal. “And what is this?” He managed a little flex, but the magic she was using to hold him against the wall held mostly firm. She was more than certain he could break free if he really wanted to, on the other hand.

“Revenge,” she told him tartly, letting out a little hum when she freed his cock. The weight of him heavy in her hands, even flaccid; though it was already twitching and growing with the few attentions it had received. Leaning in, she lavished it with more, nuzzling the soft, warm skin, and laying a brief kiss upon the little bit of his head that peeked out from the hood.

A grunt left him, and she didn’t bother to hide her smile. “Revenge…” he cleared his throat and her grin widened. “That’s a serious charge, any, any particular reason?”

She let her fingers glide up and down his growing shaft, her breath just as teasing. “For being clever, too clever.” She would still hold to the agreement, but that didn’t stop her from being a little annoyed about it. Opening her mouth, she gave his head another kiss, tongue darting out for a brief lashing.

“Hnn, some...would say that is one of my better traits.”

With now practiced ease she took his head into her mouth, letting out a neutral hum. Perhaps another time she’d try to take more of him, see if she could do more than the last, but that wasn’t the point right now. Using her hands and mouth she carefully rolled back his hood, teasing the head of him with gusto. She let herself get lost in the taste of him, and her own growing pleasure, but not for long.

Recognizing the signs of him having reached full hardness, she pulled away with a sigh, giving his head a brief kiss goodbye before standing.

Ghan’s eyes were dark, and they flashed as she stepped away. “Zelda…” She didn’t bother to hide the shiver his tone sent through her.

“Revenge, my King,” her voice shook a little, but it still had the tart note from earlier. “Is not supposed to be enjoyed by the person it is being visited upon.”

He bared his teeth, and with a delicious looking flex he managed to shatter the paper she’d written her holding spell upon. He bridged the gap between them in a step, and scooped her up, drawing a shriek that was both surprise and delight out of her. Another step and it was her back against the wall, and she was being lifted up even more, until he was eye level with her groin. “Perhaps you would allow me to apologize,” his rough voice made her shiver again. “And so engender my sweet Princess’ tender mercies?”

“You may try,” she did her best to sound imperious.

“I believe I will do more than that,” he murmured as he worked her free of her own sirwal. When he was finished, her legs were slung over his shoulders, her weight carefully balanced against the wall and him. He nuzzled the crease of her thigh, fingers petting her hair before they dove in to part her swollen lips. “Mmm, I see the problem. Though there is a certain delight at seeing your pretty little flower beg so, Princess.”

Even after a month, those sorts of words still made her flush. Tangling her hands in his hair she rocked her hips. “I am not satisfied, my King,” she gasped out in agreement.

He gave no response, only bent his head in and began to consume her with the same dedication and enthusiasm as he always did.

She had sense enough to muffle her scream when her orgasm came, pain flaring through her briefly as her head banged against the wall. “I…” she panted. “I am still not satisfied, my King.” She felt a certain amount of pride at being so coherent.

A hum, which sent aftershocks of pleasure through her. Another kiss, then she felt him mutter something. Seconds later she let out a yelp as something hard and cold rubbed against her seam. Looking down she blinked, it was...a phallus, brightly colored and glittering in a way that suggested glass. It didn’t match Ghan in size and shape, but it was certainly larger than a few fingers. “Ghan?”

“I did say I would find a way to prepare you…” he drifted off suggestively, rubbing it against her once more, the tip of it glancing against her clit and making her squirm. “Cold?

Biting her lip hard, she nodded.

“Should I warm it for you?” another stroke against her mound. “Or perhaps you’d like to feel it warm up inside you?”

“Awful,” she gasped. “Horrible man.” He only continued to tease her with it, hooded gaze watching her intently. “Inside,” she begged. “I don’t want it warm, I want it inside.” She might’ve wished it was his own cock, but that wouldn’t stop her from finally knowing what it would feel like to be filled up.

She was fairly certain he made some comment about ice, but it was quickly lost at the feel of that cold hardness parting her lips. Unrelenting in the face of her body’s natural resistance, until her gate gave way and she had to quickly muffle a shriek as it began to enter her.

When it reached the depth of his fingers, he began to thrust it in and out. She began to rock her hips, trying to draw it deeper, a sound of triumph leaving her when it did.

Halfway, and she barely felt the pain of her head hitting the wall a second time, her hands and fingers scrabbling against him at the new sensations coursing through her. It did soon begin to warm up inside her, though not for long, and she couldn’t hold back her shriek this time at the feel of it becoming cold again thanks to Ghan’s magic.

Deeper, deeper, so cold and hard and...and...she felt Ghan’s warm palm against her mound. “How greedy, to take it all on the first try.”

“Goddess.” She thrashed. “Ghan!”

“Do you like it?” He sounded utterly pleased with himself and she found herself wishing she were in a better position so she could bite him. “Perhaps I should have gotten the larger one, as you happily push past what most consider acceptable.”

She tried to make a derisive sound, but it only came out a moan. “Goddesses, it’s good,” she finally answered. Her enjoyment meant he was likely to do it more after all.

His fingers curled against her mound, and she shuddered and clenched as he began to drag the phallus out. Even as lost to the sensations as she was, a thump from the end of the hall caught her attention. Her head shot up and she blanched at seeing Link there, sitting on their ass and staring. On the heels of mortification, however, came an unexpected roar of pleasure.

Link managed to recover, hopping to their feet and dashing away. “Link!” She didn’t know why she was trying to call them back, it wasn’t as if there was any explanation for this—she shoved aside the voice that suggested she was calling them back so they could keep watching. Perhaps apologize, but what for? Except that they were her best friend and she felt bad at being caught by them. If ‘caught’ was even the right term in this case.

Pleasure filled her again as Ghan pulled out the phallus, but to her surprise he began to lower her, giving her a gentle kiss before he set her on the ground. “Go, otherwise it will bother you the rest of the day.” He wasn’t wrong.

Quickly she redid her sirwal, then rose up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. “We’ll continue this later,” she promised. She felt bad for him, but also her own body wasn’t happy with the turn of events. She raced to catch up with Link, hopping they hadn’t hidden themselves away somewhere.

Just barely she managed to catch them in the hallway of her room and theirs. “Link.” Lunging she grasped their arm, at least preventing them from going into their room—it had no lock she knew, but she would be a poor friend if she violated their privacy like that. She met their eyes, though their own darted as if they wanted to look everywhere but at her. “I’m, I’m sorry you had to see that.” She’d chosen that hallway because she knew it was a lesser used one, so thought they’d never be caught at all.

Zelda did her best to ignore the fact that she’d apparently enjoyed getting caught—and she didn’t even know Ghan’s thoughts on it, though she would likely need to for her own peace of mind. Link’s arm felt warm under her hand, and her body was aching and dissatisfied that a part of her tried to push for her to kiss Link. She forced herself to ignore it. Gerudo might not have raised an eyebrow at multiple partners, but Hyruleans   would, and despite being out in the desert, she was sure the court would hear about it sooner rather than later.

Link tugged their arm free. “It’s fine, Zelda.”  There was a stiffness to their sign that suggested otherwise. “I shouldn’t have let my curiosity get the better of me.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but before she could answer they vanished through their door. Leaving her to hope this was something that could be fixed.

-

Link thumped their head a few times against the stone wall of their room. Every time they blinked all they could see was Zelda propped up on the King’s shoulders while he pleasured her, his own cock just as arresting.

With a groan Link threw themselves onto the bed. First the King, and now Zelda.  

Link felt tangled and antsy inside, their whole body needing to do something. Somehow, somehow this was definitely all the King’s fault, and Link was going to punch that man.

-

Ghan slid the phallus out of Zelda one final time, drinking in the sight of her pale body trembling in the aftermath of pleasure. There was a temptation to free himself and push right in, though as much as she might welcome it he set the temptation aside as he always had. Soon enough it would happen.

He settled against her on his side, propping his head up with an arm. "About this afternoon..." Perhaps it was cruel to ask her that when her defenses were so down, but when else should he?

That she had energy enough to cover her hands, muffling her groan and hiding her pretty blush, perhaps suggested he should have done more. Next time. "I don't want to talk about it," she muttered.

"I found I didn't quite mind it at all," he said, hoping his own honest answer would invite her own. Granted, it wasn't exactly the first time someone had watched him, though it was in the context of masturbation and fertility rituals. Link was a different story, clearly, considering Ghan's own attraction. Granted he doubted Zelda would agree to bringing the other Hylian into their marriage bed if he suggested it, even if she might want it too—Ghan wasn't quite brave enough to risk asking her that just yet.

"What?" She squeaked, an indigo eye peaking out between her fingers. "I mean...oh Goddesses." Her whole body squirmed, and Ghan couldn't resist reaching out his free hand to rest on her belly, effectively pinning her in place. "Maybe..." she muttered something in a language he didn't know, but could still tell it was a curse of some sort. "MaybeIlikedittoo."

Ghan would not grin at the admission, knowing it had likely taken a lot out of her. It did bode well however, for the prospect of her helping him with the fertility rituals—later, once she'd grown more comfortable. So at least if it was only ever just the two of them, there would be some outlet for this preference. "Thank you, for telling me." He kissed the top of her head. Hopefully encouraging her to speak of such things would help her admit to other preferences that were outside the norm—which was so far a stalemate.

She shoved at his shoulders and he let himself roll. "You're welcome," she replied with delightful tartness. "Now, my King, I think there's something I can help you with..." She kissed his chest down towards his aching cock, and with a groan he let her do what she would.

-

As the days passed, Zelda was grateful she and Link managed to put the whole thing behind them and get back to normal, or as normal as they got.

Though she did somewhat forget about it, as she and Ghan were swept up into Din’s Day preparations, as well as for the trip afterwards. The fact she alone had so much work to do, did mean she could put off the Hytopians who had braved the desert to try and meet with her—which while perhaps not nice, did do wonders for Zelda’s stress.

Before Zelda knew it, it was the night before Din’s Day. She and Ghan were curled up together in bed, mostly just content to exist together. It was still a risk, of course, but Ghan hadn’t fought her on it. Zelda was doing her best to keep a schedule of Ghan’s nightmares, but so far, nothing like a pattern had arisen; a part of Zelda wanted to argue that that just meant she hadn’t been keeping track long enough.

Ghan was prone on the bed, reading, while she was curled up against him, staring across his chest to the balcony outside, newly erected colorful banners flapping in the night wind.

It was a soothing sight, but Zelda found she wasn’t calmed in the least. With a sigh she pushed herself upright and climbed out of the bed, feeling Ghan’s gaze on her as she went to the vanity table and picked up a brush.

“What is it?” He asked as she rejoined him.

Another sigh, and she began brushing her hair, though it hardly needed it. “I’m just...nervous, I think? Either that, or this foreboding feeling I’m having means something is going to go utterly, terribly wrong in the next few days.” She paused, realizing how that sounded. “I’m hoping it’s just nerves.”

He let out a chuckle as he sat up, freeing the brush from her hands and easily turning her around. Instead of brushing her hair, his fingers dug into her scalp, massaging gently. “Trust me, you think it’s a lot to handle, but then you’ll be in the middle of it and realize how easy it all is.”

“I know.” How many times had it happened to her back in the Castle after all? “Which doesn’t help me now.” Despite her complaining, she let out a soft moan at his ministrations, some of the tension finally leaching out of her.

“I know,” he replied back. His lips touching her crown as his fingers moved down to her neck. “Just take it one moment at a time, and remember I’ll be there to help you with anything.”

Zelda let her head fall forward, giving him more access. “Did you think of a title for me?” She asked nervously.

“I did.” Another brief kiss. “But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow like everyone else, minx. You won’t charm it out of me tonight.”

If she weren’t feeling so restless, she would try to charm it out of him. As it stood, she realized it could wait. “I hope it’s a good one.”

“It is,” he answered, and she could hear the smile in it. “It’s very Gerudo appropriate, which will go over well.” She let out a sound of protest as his fingers left her, he chuckled again. “I think we should both try to sleep, Zelda.”

With a disappointed sound she snuggled against him, closing her eyes and sending off a prayer to Hylia that all would be well.

It felt like she’d only closed her eyes for a second, then it somehow was far too early in the morning and she was being hurried out of Ghan’s rooms by Riviko and Geitaifi to get her ready for the day. Mostly she was grateful there was tea and a light breakfast for her to nibble on as they did her hair.

Her clothes were black as always, though heavily embroidered in red: suns, flames, and boars all covorted across the silky fabric. The red makeup Geitaifi applied perhaps made Zelda feel like she was some seductress in a play, but that didn’t stop it from being striking. Adding a third pair of earrings to her ears hurt a little, but she soothed the pain with magic, and there was something pleasing about having the space for earrings for each of the Three.

When she met Ghan outside the palace, a few of the guard, including Link, waiting with him, she nearly swallowed her tongue. He wore only sirwal, just as embroidered as her own, and his usual array of golden jewelry—if rubies appeared more than usual—but his chest had also been painted in red and gold designs. She had to resist the urge to rub herself against him to smear the paint between the two of them. “I think you can never outdo yourself, then you prove me wrong, my King.”

He laughed as he took her arm, leading her through the empty streets to the temple. “I aim to delight and surprise, my Princess.”

Sobik met them at the doors to the temple, her white robes trimmed in red. “I will leave you to say your prayers,” she said with a low bow. Taking their guards with her as she departed.

Zelda knelt gracefully in front of the statue of Din. Taking deep breaths and doing her best to calm herself so that she might better receive the Will of the Goddesses. No such voices reached back for her, and Zelda hoped that was a sign that all was well. She sent up prayers for health, and happiness, and good fortune for all her people, then followed Ghan to a small dais that had been installed for today, grateful that the pillows were comfortable.

The doors to the temple opened, and the Gerudo began to file in. Some found places to sit on the stone floor right away, others made prayers and offerings to Din first, but soon the temple was full to the brim with color and voices. 

Snatches of conversation and song reached Zelda on the dais, but soon all fell quiet as Sobik stepped into the small circle of floor that had been left clear around Din’s statue.

As if to build tension, Sobik waited a few seconds before she began to speak, a trick Zelda knew well. “Welcome all. We come together to celebrate our great lady, the Goddess of the Sands, and to mark another year of survival in this, our given land!”

Her words earned her a roar of celebration that rattled Zelda to her bones. 

When it quieted, Sobik began to speak again. “So then, let us begin with our History, so that we may never forget it. For without it we are just wanderers of the sands, without purpose or dignity.

“So long ago, that none who live can speak of it, we roamed the waves of a great ocean. None were our equal in the ways of sailing and navigation, and we won our respect with the sweat of our brow and the blood we shed. But the Goddess of the Sands came to us, and she said:”

“I would give you new purpose,” Ghan spoke. Zelda would have jumped if she hadn’t known it was coming. For it seemed not even the Sage was allowed to speak for the Goddess. “Should you choose to come with me. A new land to call your own, but you must choose.”

“And choose we did,” Sobik stepped back in with ease. “Not all of us chose to go with her, but many did, and we did not begrudge those who decided to remain, for change can be hard when it is unknown.

“She carried us across ways and means that cannot be spoken of, until she set us upon an ocean of sand.”

“It will not love you,” Ghan spoke again. “Just as the ocean did not love you, but you can win its respect. It will test you, and give you challenges that you might not be able to overcome. Your sacrifices will be greater still, but I do not give you these hardships without cause.

“Every hundred years, my son shall be born among you, to lead you to glory and greatness as your King. He, and the desert, will teach you many things. Raise him will, and you will never lose my favor.”

“We agreed, and soon rejoiced, for he was indeed born unto us, and we named him Ghananorv, the son of the sacred flame. And when he claimed his crown he did indeed lead us to glory and great magics. We did not even care that the other humans were wary of us, tales of blue-skinned human-seeming demons who had betrayed them for a dark god dogging our steps...”

Zelda perhaps got lost in the story, the words almost blurring together as Sobik recounted thousands of years of history. Perhaps Zelda grew a little uncomfortable when she spoke of her people gleefully leading old armies to their doom during the Unification, even as she knew that the Gerudo would bow to no king but their own. So it was no surprise they refused those of Hylia’s bloodline.

“...and when Hyrule began to tear itself apart from civil war, we took advantage. Our King was born again, and when the war claimed his mother the Rova twins took him under their wing, teaching him all their arcane arts, and telling him of the bounties of Hyrule.

“So even before he claimed his crown, the war consumed him in a way. Before even that however, we knew the Alunshay whom the Hylians called the Demon King, had a hole in his heart. We loved him still, knowing it would not be enough. He could not love us back, but like the desert before him, he treasured us, and called us his own. He was Ghananorv fa’Gadumire, though when the Hylian king begged peace, he gave his title as fa’Dragahmire. For we knew from our History that Hyrule and it’s humans were not honorable enemies, so what was it to lie to them?

“It is in this time that the first Nabooru was born as well, as sharp as steel and clever as a roc. When our King went to Hyrule, she followed, a call in her blood drawing her to her fate.

“King though he was, he met his match in the child princess, Zelda, who bore the blessings of two goddesses by Hylian reckoning. It was from her that Nabooru learned she was a Sage of old, to stand against an evil that would consume the world if not stopped, our own King.

“She returned to the desert bearing his head, claiming the bitter honor of Kingkiller. She sang to us of a second war, that lasted moments in our own world, but years in the Sacred Realm of the Goddesses. Of how in the end, the King bowed to her. ‘I wanted to be better.’ He died with the honor he sometimes lacked, and we retreated to our canyon to mourn.

“A hundred years, and Nabooru Kingkiller ruled us as best she could as our Sage. But there was much rejoicing when our King was born again. Only then for a greater cruelty to be visited upon us…”

The voices of all the Gerudo began to sing, and Zelda found herself shivering at the sorrow of their words.

“Zelda, new queen,

Did hear of our King,

And fear grew in her heart,

For the words of her grandmother did ring:

‘I will return again.’

“Zelda, full of fear,

Did gather her terrible shadows and bring

Them to our lands

There she bade them their gruesome task:

All children young to slay.”

“And oh, did we scream when we found them.” Six hundred years and yet so much grief raged through Sobik, that Zelda found herself crying in response. “And Nabooru Kingkiller raged at this betrayal, for she had loved this little Zelda as her own vehvi. She did not beg for justice, but demanded it!

“Our great Goddess answered, and the world trembled in her wrath. As Nabooru had once borne our King, so we bore our dead as the Goddess calmed the Wasteland and led us further west.”

“Here you will dig,” Ghan's voice was gruff, his own sorrow evident. “There is water, enough to tend you all for ages to come. Here you will dig, to bury the bones of your children, and a garden shall grow in their memory.”

“Nabooru Kingkiller died of grief, her bones to join the children none of us could have saved.”

The story continued, but Zelda couldn’t pay attention. Her emotions tangled. Her own histories never speaking of such a massacre, but would they have? Zelda the Enduring had perhaps never been a beloved queen, but well, she had endured all the hardships of the Great Quake and people had respected her for that. And it would not have been the first time Hyrule had tried to hide some of it’s more awful actions. Though historians now were trying to bring such things to light so that the country, hopefully, did not repeat the past.

A warm hand settled over her own, giving her a start, and thankfully pulling her from her dark thoughts. She glanced at Ghan, who gave her a little smile. He raised her hand and kissed her palm, the now familiar gesture soothing. Even so, she found herself scooting closer, seeking more comfort.

“...and now we have a King once more, who has done us much good. Already he has managed what his predecessors have not, for Hyrule will soon be his. A fitting revenge for all they have inflicted upon us.”

The Gerudo roared as Sobik gave a bow.

While part of Zelda wanted to laugh at the words, for hadn’t she thought something similar years ago? The rest of her felt strangely uncertain in the wake of her emotional turmoil. Love, after all, didn’t have to have a place in a royal marriage. But the idea that she could love Ghan had begun to take root inside her, yet how could it survive, if all she was was revenge?

The crowd began to quiet as children in green cloaks stepped forward for the Path of Adulthood. In the brief moment of calm Zelda leaned closer to Ghan. “Is, is that all I’m to be then, revenge?” Better to know now, so she could save herself the heartache. Though she was certain it would take time to separate love from all they did.

He looked down at her. “Not to me, no. Not since you danced with us in the rain.”

Zelda had to look away, despite having wanted that answer. Her heart feeling like it might beat out of her chest at any second. She found herself looking at Link, which, strangely, didn’t make her feel better. He should have comforted as much as Ghan’s words did. But she remained just as flustered. What was with her today?

Thankfully her part in the Path of Adulthood was simple enough that she didn’t need to think. Though she felt somewhat bad that she barely heard the children as they announced themselves and their chosen positions. She managed to kiss them each on the forehead however, and a smile tugged at her lips as she watched them proudly show off their twin kiss marks to anyone who would pay attention.

Ghan stood, and the Temple fell quiet. He offered her a hand up, and she took it. “I know we all wish to eat and drink our fill, but before we go, there is one more bit of business that needs to be addressed.” He turned to her, copper eyes warm as he looked into her own. “Months ago now, I promised I would find a new title for Zelda, Princess of Hyrule. For she was right in saying her purpose in my life is more than consort, and too great for partner. So then…”

He knelt and Zelda found herself being overcome with a whole new set of emotions, for it almost didn’t feel like real life. More like a dream of a play, all surprised whispers and earnest...love in Ghananorv’s face. “So I would bestow upon you, Zelda, fa’vususarra. My chosen love, the thief who has stolen my heart in the night.”

“I…” Zelda was a princess, she would not let her words fail her. “You do me the greatest of honors, my King, to grant me your heart. I…” Her words tangled in her throat. If not words, then actions. She grabbed his face and bending in, kissed him. 

Even the raucous cheers of the Gerudo faded away in the face of kissing him. 

They were both breathing heavily as they broke apart. Zelda leaned her forehead against his, unwilling to break their moment just yet. “I...I think I do love you in return, Ghananorv. Though I am not quite sure how I would truly know.” 

Laughter left him, and she yelped as he scooped her up. “You will know it time, my thieving Princess.”

-

It was perhaps very unguard like of him, but Link let out a satisfied groan as he finished off another skewer of goat. To be fair to him, a few of the guard appeared to be on their way to getting drunk, so clearly it wasn’t frowned upon.

This new years was certainly more of a party than Link was used to. At least after the morning. He picked his teeth with the skewer contemplatively for a moment. It had been hard not to notice Zelda’s own reaction—or his impulse to toss away propriety and comfort her—or Link’s own...disconnect from the horrors within Hyrule’s past.

He hadn’t exactly grown up with the illustrious history of the country in the first place. His mother had told him it existed, and that she and his father had served in the castle before his father’s death, but nothing more. He’d certainly never thought Hyrule was perfect. 

Which hadn’t stopped him from feeling some echo of Zelda’s turmoil, or the grief of the Gerudo.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” Ikafu nudged his shoulder firmly. “Though perhaps you should be charging me with that long face, not sure you’re allowed to be sad during such a wonderful feast. Not with the games about to start.”

A huff left Link as he set the skewer down on an empty tray—he was pretty sure no one wanted to be stabbed by accident while he replied. “Just thinking.”

She snorted in reply. “There is definitely no thinking allowed. Come on, let’s see how well your archery really has improved.”

He let her drag him along willingly. 

Outside was hot even with awnings covering nearly all the main streets, but that didn’t stop people from celebrating. Song and alcohol both flowed liberally as he and Ikafu wove through the crowd towards the bazaar. Which had been completely emptied yesterday to make room for a small fighting ring, a set of archery targets, and even a narrow racetrack along the outer edges. Another dais had been set up, and around the edges of it a few voe were preparing old barrels for tonight.

“Are you going to do a run tonight?” She asked casually as she picked through the bows on offer.

Link nodded. Zelda had outright refused when the King had explained it last week, but Link was all too curious. The King had promised the Gerudo knew what they were doing and no one ever got hurt. Stepping up next to Ikafu, Link picked through the bows as well. Flexing his fingers when the Triforce began to itch. He supposed there were worse things for it to do than pick out a bow for him.

Ikafu seemed satisfied with her own bow, and gave him a grin. “You’re so small we might have to give you one of the child's barrels.”

He gave her his pinky in response. Triforce bow found he gave it a few slow tests, before giving a little nod. “That barrel,” he finally answered her, pointing at the biggest of them all.

She laughed as they collected quivers of arrows and arm guards from a vai. “That one is the King’s and you know it, Link. Your eyes might be too big for your stomach this time,” she teased. She stepped up to the line for the furthest target before attaching her quiver and arm guard.

“I could handle it,” Link said testily. He’d never tried running with a few hundred pounds of barrel before, but it couldn’t be that hard if you got the balance point right. Finishing his own setup he drew an arrow and sighted down it, giving a little nod of satisfaction, this was going to be easy.

“I’d like to see you try and convince the King of that. Best out of five?”

He nodded, and they began. Link grateful he had something else to focus on besides thinking of ways to convince the King of anything.

The rhythm of shooting came easily to Link, thankfully, and before he knew it they were finished. A quick-footed vehvi raced to the target before either of them could, hauling it back for them—he gave them a rupee for their trouble. Link won by a point.

Ikafu huffed. “Another task,” she tilted her head towards the ring, where a pair of vai were currently facing off with spears.

Link shook his head. “Stay here.” Link was good at fighting, he’d had no choice but to be, really. But he enjoyed archery more. “Beat anyone who wants to challenge me,” he gave a grin of his own.

She arched her eyebrows. “That so? Well then, lets see if I can’t drum you up some competition. And you’d better win at least some, could make good money off you.” Before he could answer she was back at the vai minding the arrows, saying something too low for Link to catch, then vanished into the crowd.

While he waited, he found himself a small patch of shade, and a cup of water. A voe tried to offer him a beer, but Link shook his head. Getting drunk would only favor his opponents, and Link wasn’t going to let that happen.

A vai in the red of the common guard approached, eyebrow crooked in disbelief. “So you can beat any of us, can you, Hylian?”

Nodding, he jerked his head towards the far target, holding up five fingers.

They took to the line, they shot. Link won handily.

Which earned him narrowed eyes. “You’re cheating,” she challenged.

Link didn’t even bother to roll his eyes, he wouldn’t exactly call using magic to pick a bow cheating, he might’ve picked it anyways, even without magic after all. “Again?” He spelled out slowly. Their little tiff had drawn a crowd, but Link didn’t mind in the least.

“Alright,” she begrudgingly agreed. “Though I want the target set back five more paces.”

A shrug, it didn’t matter to Link how far back it was. Though her words did earn some murmurs from the crowd.

The target was set back, they lined up, and shot.

This time Link gave the vehvi fetching the target twenty rupees—if they were going to keep doing it he might as well make it worth their while. He might’ve only hit the center twice instead of three times, but he did better than the vai.

Who bared her teeth, but didn’t challenge him on cheating again, instead storming off. 

Link quickly drank another glass of water as two challengers stepped up this time.

His only understanding of time passing came from the moving of the shadows, and the size of the crowd around him. Winning had lost some of it’s shine, but he also refused to be defeated. He ate and drank between bouts, happy to keep going until it was time for the barrels.

“So this is what all the fuss is about,” Zelda’s voice behind him had him turning with a grin.

She looked beautiful and happy in the evening light, and Link ignored the twist in his belly. Instead sketching a little bow. “Would you like to try?”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “I know you’d beat me Link, I’ll save myself the embarrassment now, thank you.”

“I’ll take up the offer,” the King’s voice rumbled as he stepped up next to Zelda. Link had gotten so used to the itching pull that it was almost possible to ignore it now, almost. “But perhaps something a little more challenging?”

“Alright,”  Link didn’t even have to think about it. “What do you propose, Your Majesty?”

He gave it the thought Link was certain the question deserved. “Fifteen targets, fifteen arrows, on horseback. Fastest and most accurate wins.”

Link grinned. “I accept.” The King might be a good horseman, and archer, but he couldn’t beat Link and Epona, no way, no how.

A small uproar started in the crowd as the news passed, they reluctantly retreated as the King had other Royal Guard set up the targets and bring the horses. Link emptied his quiver until only fifteen arrows remained.

“And how about something, just between us, to make it more interesting?” The King said quietly.

Link arched an eyebrow in question.

“Should I win...you’ll speak with Zelda.” He inclined his head towards her, seated under a nearby awning with the best view of the area. “And admit that you have perhaps been lying to her about everything being fine.” The King arched an eyebrow. “Lies should not be between friends.”

Even as Link’s heart froze for a moment in his chest, he bared his teeth. “If I win, I get to punch you,”  he replied without thought.

That it surprised the King was worth it. “Well, well, one of my own Guard wishes me harm, this won’t do at all. Fine, I think it a fair equal.”

Epona’s familiar whicker made Link’s ears twitch, and he grinned when a vehvi brought it over. She leaned into his scratching like a dog would, before tossing her head and pressing it against his chest. He kissed her star, humming happily.

Someone had put a saddle on her, but Link took it off. The extra weight would only slow them down. As he did he glanced over at the King and his own mare, a giant that Link was certain only qualified as a horse on a technicality. She was a beautiful black, but had to be at least twice the size of Epona herself. It’d take her time to get up to speed, but she’d be as unstoppable as a Goron once she got there.

At least the King treated her with care, quietly talking to her as he checked his own saddle.

Link hopped onto Epona, letting himself get used to riding her bareback before nudging her towards the start line. The King joined him a few seconds later. “Better get ready to explain yourself,” he said.

The only response Link gave to that was a roll of his eyes.

“If you’re both ready,” Zelda’s voice rang out. “Then. You. Can. GO!”

Epona leapt ahead of the King’s black at Link’s nudge, falling into a flying pace with ease. Link’s fingers itched for an arrow, but he made himself do a full round of the circuit first, marking out the targets in his mind. Only half noticing when the King overtook him at a gallop, or the sounds of the King’s own bow firing. Once he’d passed the start line did he begin to fire. His time might be slower, but he’d catch up on accuracy.

Waiting also meant he knew how better than the King he had to do.

It took two full circuits before Link used his last arrow, Epona slowing with ease, barely winded. She eyed the King’s own mare, also seeming no worse for wear, and tossed her head again. Link rubbed her neck in praise.

The horses were led back to the stable, the targets brought over for the scores to be tallied.

In the end, Link won, by a single point.

He grinned at the King, giving a bow.

“Yes, a good match,” the King agreed, his voice booming over the uproar of the crowd. “I am proud you serve as one of my chosen Guard, even if you are a little impertinent.” 

Link’s grin grew. He stepped up to the King—a part of him absently realizing the last time they’d been this close was Zelda’s birthday—drew his arm back, and socked the King as hard in the chest as he could. He wanted the shoulder, but couldn’t reach it from this angle.

The King grunted, but barely showed any other signs that Link had otherwise even touched him. Link should have guessed as much considering, but still, a little stumble would have been nice.

He gave another bow, then vanished into the crowed before Zelda could reach him and likely yell at him for being a fool, nearly running into Azira carrying a pitcher of beer from the smell of it. Link helped the Rito catch it before it could spill.

“Thank you,” Azira inclined his head, hair feathers rising up slightly. “Would you like to join Demal and I for dinner? I’m sure you’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

Link nodded, thankful for the offer.

He followed the Rito to another awning, the shade welcoming, even with the sun beginning to set over the mountains.

Demal grinned at him as he sat next to the voe. “That was quite the performance. Most would have let the King win."  

“It’s good to be humbled every now and again. He would’ve thrashed me if we’d done spears or swords.” Link might’ve been fast, but size and weight still meant a lot in a fight. Though Link could still hope he’d at least last a little while. “Anyways, letting him win would have been boring.”

Which earned him an eyeroll.

Link was perhaps a little grateful Cende appeared shortly thereafter, bearing a tray piled high with food. They stared at Link as he picked out a few skewers of meat and vegetables—he wasn’t all that hungry, but he also wasn’t going to refuse food.

“Eat,” Demal chided the child. “Link’ll still be there for you to stare at once you’ve finished.”

Link huffed, heart tugging some at the look of fond annoyance on Azira’s face. He did his best not to think about missing his mother while he ate, but it was a stalemate at best.

As dusk truly fell, lanterns were lit, colorful light filling the streets.

Ikafu eventually found him again, grabbing his arm and yanking him up unceremoniously. “You won me a lot of rupees today, Link,” she beamed brightly. “Come on, let me get you drunk at least in repayment.”

Once again Link let himself be dragged. “Not sure how that’s equal. I’ll just take half the rupees, thanks.”

“A quarter,” she countered back. “And I’m still getting you drunk because you deserve to be after that.”

“Fine,” Link agreed. It wasn’t like much would happen tomorrow anyways, he could deal with the hangover in peace. Which he’d rather take over facing Zelda at the moment. Though he could hope the King wouldn’t let her be too mad at him, considering that he’d agreed to it—so long as the King didn’t also reveal what he’d asked for if he’d won…

Link shook his head, shaking off those thoughts as they reached a small clutch of other Royal Guards. Happily accepting a mug of spiced mead from Anure. It went down far too easily and he found himself soon taking another.

He found himself joining in with their cheering when the vehvi began to run past with their little barrels burning merrily. When it came time for the adults, Link did try to join them, but when he tried to stand, he swayed and almost fell over, much the amusement of the others. He did the smart thing and sat back down, there would always be next year after all.

It was easy to tell it was getting close to midnight because people began dousing the lanterns. Not because the celebrating was over, but to better see the King during his own run.

They were a bit too far here to see him start it, but Link could hear the roar as the rags and tar in the barrel were lit up, and the second roar of the crowd—likely for the King picking it up. He didn’t have to wait long to see it for himself, however. The King running from the bazaar down their street.

Link wasn’t exactly surprised at the swell of emotion he felt watching the King carrying an inferno on his shoulders while the Gerudo around him cheered and tried to touch the flames—it was supposedly good luck. It was an awe-inspiring sight. 

After the King passed, the celebrating did begin to break up some. He himself left his fellow guards, meandering back to the bazaar, watching the people mill about.

He spotted Zelda easily, but didn’t approach her. He wasn’t close enough to protect her, should something happen, but considering what the King had done today, Link wouldn’t be surprised if anyone who did try something would get torn to pieces for the trouble. So he tried not to feel too much guilt over the fact that he was technically avoiding her.

The roaring returned as the King did, dropping the barrel off his shoulders and into the middle of the bazaar, what little wood remained shattering at the impact. Shrugging off the padding and shaking out his hair, the King marched to Zelda, who said something to him.

In response the King scooped her up—Link could hear her surprise from here—and began carrying her off.

Link found himself following, frowning a little when they went to the stables instead of the palace. They emerged a few minutes later on the back of the King’s black, the King nudging the horse into a walk.

At which point the King must have also laid some sort of ‘don’t see us’ spell, because they, almost, vanished. Link could still follow them however, because well, it was easy to spot such a large empty space even in the thinning crowds of Gerudo. Nevermind his own magic sensing talents.

He followed them all the way to the walls of the town. Lingering at the gate as he watched them weave through the tents. 

In the end he didn’t follow further, retreating instead to the palace and his own bed. It was likely better that way.

-

Carefully Ghan wove his black through the narrow paths between the Gerudo tents. Beyond those, they passed a group of grumbling Hyrulean merchants who clearly didn’t understand why there was a barrier surrounding the city and the tents, preventing them from entering. A few Hytopians had set up a fire, and were passing a bottle between them, two Gorons, and some Holodrumians. A greater number of the merchants who had been politely kicked out for the day were fast asleep.

Zelda didn’t speak until after they were a few minutes past them. “The Colossus? Is that...wholly appropriate?” 

“If I want it to be,” he responded easily. Understanding her concerns somewhat. “Sex is considered a holy act, little thief,” he let himself tease.

Even under the thin moonlight he could make out the tips of her ears darkening from embarrassment. “It’s just...not something I have experience with,” she said.

He reined his horse to a stop, grasping Zelda’s head in his hand and turning it upwards. “Don’t worry, Zelda, no one will be offended. In fact, if people find out they’ll consider it a good sign.”

“Just keep riding…” she muttered, eyes glancing away, refusing to look at him as her embarrassment grew. Still not fully comfortable with the idea of enjoying things not considered ‘normal.’ He was getting her used to it however, he hoped.

Letting her be, he let go of her face and nudged his horse into a gallop, eating up the distance between them and the Colossus with ease. Two braziers flickered into life at their approach, casting the entrance into foreboding darkness.

They left the horse at the oasis, and approached the Colossus on foot. Ghan taking Zelda’s hand as they stepped through the open doorway.

She let out a little gasp as torches burst into light, the mirrors all around filling the room with light. Her eyes darted around, taking in the stairs and various doorways. “Which way’s the right one?”

“It depends on where you want to go,” he answered. Though he was pleased she realized not all the ways offered were true. “But for us…” he lead her to a wall with a mural of Nabooru leading them west after the Quake. He pressed his hand on the brick Nabooru pointed at and part of the wall swung away. “We’re taking a shortcut.”

The secret passage led to a tight spiral staircase going up. He kept hold of her hand as he began the ascent.

“If,” she panted about three quarters of the way up the stairs. “If this goes on for much longer, I fear I won’t be much of an active participant.”

His laughter echoed. “I don’t see that as a problem,” he turned his head enough to give her a quick grin. “Mmm, I think it would be quite enjoyable, you helpless and pliant while I have my filthy way with you.” His cock twitched at the ideas that danced through his head at his own words.

Something similar must have passed through Zelda’s, for she exhaled sharply, her pulse beginning to race under his fingers. “Not...not right now,” she managed to stumble out.

“Alright,” he agreed. Taking it as a small victory that she admitted to wanting it at all. “We’re almost there,” he said. “But if you wish to regain your strength…” He turned and scooped her up again once more. Taking the steps two at a time as he continued upwards.

“If this keeps up, people will begin to think I’m indolent, letting you carry me everywhere.” It hardly sounded like a complaint. She rested her head on his shoulder, humming softly. “Though it is nice, you’re always wonderfully warm, and to feel the play of your muscles is always intriguing.” Her hand glided across his chest.

His ego didn’t need the stroking, but he relished it nonetheless. “I aim to please, my Princess. Though I think perhaps you are a little drunk."

She pushed herself away from his shoulder and glowered at him, seeming not to notice they reached the end of the stairway and onto a spacious balcony overlooking the main chamber. “I am not. I barely had any wine, and only two cups of mead, thank you very much. If I am drunk on anything, my King, it is not alcohol, but anticipation.” Her hand moved from his chest downwards, paint flaking off under her fingers, her eyes following her own hand as she watched herself. “I had hoped it might smear,” she spoke almost as if to herself. “Over you, over me…”

Now his cock began to truly swell, her words and touch as arousing as always. “I shall remember for next time, little thief, I think you would look quite fetching smeared in blue here.” He shifted his hold on her so he could cup a breast, thumb flicking over her nipple absently.

She arched like a cat into his touch, eyes growing half-lidded. “Next time,” she agreed. Finally she noticed they were no longer moving and looked around. “Where are we?”

“The King’s balcony,” he answered as he set her down.

She walked to the edge, bending over the stone bannister to take in the whole of the inner sanctum below. “It’s beautiful.”

He felt a different sort of pride at her words.

Not bothering to hide the smile on his face he summoned blankets and pillows to make the stone floor more comfortable. Zelda sidled up next to him as he finished arranging them. “Thank you for making me a bed,” she kissed his shoulder pertly. “But where are you going to sleep?” Her eyes sparkled.

He scooped her up, delighting in her squeal. “Hmmm, I was planning on sleeping atop you, my Princess. Your breasts are far more comfortable than any pillow in the world.” He lifted her up enough that he could nuzzle at them, nipping gently at their curves through the fabric.

She giggled and squirmed delightfully. “I fear you might crush me, oh mighty King.” This time she kissed his cheek.

“Well then,” he heaved a large sigh. “I fear then, it is my  bed I have made, and you shall have to sleep atop me. Though I am not sure how good a blanket you make.” He sat with ease, putting her in his lap, letting his hands glide up and down her sides.

“Humph.” She pouted as she reached out and pinched one of his nipples, the sensation sending a low wave of heat through him. “Just like a king, to only think of himself.”

Ghan lay down, dragging her up so she straddled his chest. “I do outrank you, my sweet. But come, let me apologize…” He tugged at the laces of her sirwal.

She let him undo them, shimmying out of the gauzy trousers with ease. Moving again as he cupped her ass and pulled her forward once more. Moaning in delight as her mound settled against his mouth. He shifted his hold on her so he could better spread her legs, tongue darting out eagerly at the first drop of nectar that fell on his lips.

He drank up her sounds as eagerly as he did her nectar and honey, giving her his own sounds of pleasure when she gripped his hair tightly and ground down against him, always so greedy for more. Ghan closed his eyes when she screamed, her overflow drenching his face as she came.

As she came down he lavished attention on her inner thighs, nipping and nuzzling the peach soft skin there.

“Ghan…” she panted, her voice making his cock strain against his own sirwal more than it was already. “I...That was a good, a good start for your apology.”

Little minx. Letting out a playful growl, he dug his fingers into her ass and thighs, holding her down against his mouth. She mewled and tried to writhe, whining when his grip tightened, halting any sort of movement. “Ghan…” She begged.

He made it up to her with another orgasm, this time however he didn’t relent, continuing to kiss and lap at her as she shook. Pressing her on into a third.

His lungs reminded him that he needed more than quick little breaths, and he reluctantly let her go. Only to be rewarded with the sight of her trembling cunt as she fell back against his torso. Once the lightheaded feeling started to go away, he moved again. A hand pushing one of her legs away, forcing her cunt open. He hummed at the beautiful sight, letting his fingers graze against the tender flesh and relishing her little twitches.

“I,” her voice was hoarse and breathless now. “I think you’ve apologized enough.”

“What,” he rumbled. “Made you think this was part of the apology?” He slid a finger into her opening. The sight of her little hole taking it with ease making his own belly clench. “I do believe I promised the day I titled you, was the day you got to take that cock you’ve longed for inside you.” He added a second finger, relishing her moans and the weak rocking of her hips. “You do still want it, yes?” He teased.

Her nails bit into his sides. “Goddesses yes! I will not be denied again, my King. I will take it, whether you want me to or not.”

Another twist in his belly, the desire and determination in those words making him rumble again. “Then, precious thief, let us see if you can steal it for yourself as well.” Even as he spoke he pushed in a third finger, pulling them apart inside her, forcing her walls to stretch. As much as he feared hurting her, some part of him took dark delight at how much her cunt resisted even that.

With a disappointed sigh he pulled his fingers out as she gained the strength to move. As she sat up she removed her choli, the sight of her breasts making his mouth water once more. Even with such tempting fruits, he kept himself prone, only lifting his hips when she began to remove his own sirwal.

“You’ve already prepared it for me, I see.” He tilted his head enough to see her straddling his thighs, bent down enough that the head of his cock was framed between her breasts, and Goddess there were likely few sights as erotic as that.

Zelda dipped her head down, her lips opening wide to take in the head of him, tongue teasing at his slit barely a moment later. He clutched at pillows and blankets as she continued to take him in. Her own moans vibrating through him as she got halfway down. She tilted her eyes so that they met his own, showing him how dark they were with hunger.

She dragged her lips back up before he could start to worry about her own breathing. Laying a teasing kiss to his tip before rising up and shifting her hips forward until her other lips spread around the base of his shaft, forcing it down against him. He groaned as she continued to rock herself upwards, until he could feel the head of him against her, his tip pressing against her clit, drawing sounds from both of them.

He expected her to rock forward again, so that she could draw in the head as easily as she had his fingers. Instead, she moved backwards, her own nectar easing the way.

“Zelda…” He resisted the urge to grab her hips and force her back up.

Her hands pressed against his torso, giving her a better position to glide back and forth. “You are the one always so concerned with thorough preparation, my King.” She bit her lip, muffling a mewl as his head pressed against her again. “I am only following...your example,” she moaned.

“Minx,” he growled. “So your claims of taking it were only that then?” It was half-tease, half-challenge. All the better to distract himself from his own urges to flip them over and shove into her until she was begging for him to stop. Perhaps, perhaps that could be possible at a later date.

She panted in response, head bowed so she could watch it herself.

Until it seemed even she couldn’t take her own teasing anymore, rising up onto her knees and grabbing him with a hand. She tossed her mess of a braid over her shoulder, giving him a much better view as she began to lower herself. As ready as she was, she still had to push down forcefully to get the head of him inside her. She screamed, her cunt squeezing the head of him almost painfully tight as she orgasmed. 

Once she’d recovered, she let go of his shaft, bracing herself on two hands once more. “Fuck!” Her thighs trembled as she took another inch, her body almost too weak to go as slow as she needed to. “Ghan! Oh, Goddesses…” Another inch.

As much as he wanted to help, or at least do it for her. He knew she’d refuse, wanting the satisfaction of having done it all herself. “You can take it,” he rumbled instead. “Goddess, you look magnificent.” Body trembling, eyes dark and glassy with pleasure, the barely visible bulge of him through her skin. Another inch. “Almost halfway,” he moaned, gripping a pillow tight enough to burst. “Zelda, little thief, please.”

“So close,” She keened. “So big.”

The next few inches she took in grunts and moans, and all he could do was echo her. Words failing the both of them.

Then, however her legs finally gave out from under her, forcing her to take the last stretch all in one go. She stiffened and let out a strange squeak, her nails digging deep into his skin as her eyes rolled back into her head momentarily. 

Worry started to bloom in the middle of his pleasure, but it faded away when she let out an explosive breath, pushing herself upright despite her trembling arms. “Fuck.”

He wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t, not with the heat of her fully sheathing his cock, clinging so tightly he feared she might make him burst. Finally though he let himself touch her, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. His own head thrown back as he struggled not to spill immediately. Though he doubted Zelda would truly mind, his own pride wouldn’t let him.

Neither of them moved for an eternity. Not until Zelda finally seemed to collect herself somewhat, enough at least to move her hips back and forth. The movement almost maddening.

“Zelda…”

“Don’t, want you to leave,” she panted. “Might, might be too much work to get you back in.”

Now he laughed, the sound morphing into a shout as his body gave up the fight and he began to spill inside her. His hands tightening even more, forcing her to remain still once more as he filled her to the brim.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Oh, Goddesses, Ghan, it feels so good.” She clenched around him, as if trying to draw more seed out from his shaft. “Don’t ever make me wait again.” Her attempt at a glower was lackluster at best, thanks to her pleasure-slack expression.

“But, Zelda, my dear.” He slid his hands up her back, guiding her down to lay on his chest. “I think watching you squirm so desperately as you beg, such a delight.” He bent his head to kiss the top of her head fondly. “At least let me make you wait every once in a while.”

She gave one of those delightful squirms, and he felt himself almost slip out of her, only for her hips to shift again, drawing him back in. “I...I could be convinced,” she murmured. “But not right now, my King.” A kittenish yawn escaped her. “Right now, I fear I must rest.” She buried her face deeper into his chest, seeming to think his made an equally good pillow for her.

“Sleep.” He continued to glide his fingers up and down her spine, smiling as he felt her relax into sleep.

He found himself feeling equally relaxed, though he had no desire for sleep. He stopped his petting, letting one of his hands settle on her ass while the other brushed her cheek gently before pulling a blanket around them. “Thank you, Zelda,” he whispered. 

She might not have been able to admit she was in love with him, but he could wait for it. Perhaps their trip to Holodrum would help. It would be a new experience for the both of them, and someplace they could make something for them without the weight of their peoples histories behind them. 

Some new jewelry for her too, Ghan debated absently. “Sapphires,” he said quietly. Ones the color of her eyes. But the setting? Autumn gold perhaps, if the right mix could be made, or maybe copper…

His hand brushed against her own, the Triforce mark on his hand appearing as he touched her own, with a clench of his fist it vanished again. "After Holodrum," he found himself promising. "I'll tell you everything then." 

-

Despite her knowing it was a mirror, she would not have guessed it by looking at it alone. The dark stone offering no reflection, of light or of her fellows moving around it to cut the chains that encircled it.

Anticipation filled the room as the last chain fell away, revealing the unrelenting darkness in full.

“What, what do we do now, my lady?”

She pulled a knife from her sirwal. “Now, we begin the ritual.”

Notes:

The song the Gerudo sing during the History is based off/inspired by the Coventry Carol (specifically the version sung by Annie Lennox)

Flying pace is a gait natural to Icelandic horses, which have five instead of three gaits you can watch a video of if here (and if you go back to 1:19 you can see the tölt, the other natural gait)

if you wanted to see some real barrel running...

 

See you all next week for the end of part 1!

Chapter 11: Part 1: Kindling, of Sorts

He was the first, Zant thought to himself almost gleefully. The first Twili to ever cross the Mirror and return to Hyrule.

Even through the filters in his helmet the air tasted strange as he stood on the sandy floor. Carefully he picked his way through the blood and bodies surrounding the Mirror, an effective, if crude, means of opening if one had no magical talent.

A human, possibly a woman, but one could never really tell with humans sometimes, knelt at the edges of the ritual. Her eyes pink wth the Mad God’s blessing. She touched her forehead to the floor in respect. He basked in it, even if it was only from a human. “You are the one, yes, my lord? Who will free us from the King, and Demise and his Calamity once and for all?”

He crouched, a nudge of will opening his mask, the air dry and still strange, but breathable. She deserved to see his face, after all. “I serve the Mad God,” he rasped. “Just as you do.” Why humans called Him ‘Demise’ was beyond him. What right did they have to name the nameless?

The Mirror buzzed and he could feel his Blessed Acolytes begin to enter the room.

“I thank you, for freeing us. For offering your world for the Mad God to consume.”

The woman started, leaping back gracefully and brandishing a knife. “No!” She lunged. One of his Acolytes lumbered to intercept, catching her easily and pinning her to the ground.

Zant let his mask close. “Kill her, if she will not serve willingly, then she can be food.” He walked out of the room, uncaring of the woman’s screams.

The lenses of his mask darkened as he stepped into the light of the cursed sun. How could anyone live with that beating down on them day in and day out? He was doing them all a favor, really, the balm of blessed twilight a gift.

Raising his arms he opened himself. “My Lord! Oh, great and terrible God! Grant me your boons that I might pave the way for your hunger. Let me make ready this world for your consummation.”

Power tore through him, cruel as the sun. But he had been changed for it, prepared to carry the many blessings his God would bestow upon him. He welcomed the power he had never been given by his own people, proof that his God cared for him more than they ever had.

He clapped his hands together as the power burst out of him, the world shaking with the force of it. Twilight began to spread, even with his mask protecting him he sighed in relief at the dim coolness. The Acolytes began to leave the safety of the room, the Twilight protecting them as it did him. “Soon!” He cried out to them. “Soon we will cover the world and gift it to our Master.”

The magic in him surged, pushing the Twilight out even further.

A commotion from behind, sounds of a struggle. He turned and was grateful the mask covered his surprise as he saw a child in a sacrificial mask slamming one of his Acolytes into the ground. “Midna!” He shrieked. “Kill her!” She should have been dead already! The mask she wore was broken and cracked, showing the wildness in a red eye as she spotted him.

“Zant! You should’ve killed me yourself!” Baring her teeth in a snarl she flung herself at him.

Or so he thought. He gathered power to throw her back and hold her down, but instead of hitting him she flew past him. Racing towards the rapidly expanding edge of Twilight. “Can’t catch me!” Her voice was gleefully cutting.

“After her! She must not be allowed to deny the Mad God his rightful feast!” His Acolytes surged after her.

Please, my God, do not blame me for the failings of my people. He was to be King, why should he be the one to bloody his hands with such deeds?

Magic surged and writhed within him, but did not dissipate. Relieved, Zant sent a tendril back through the Mirror into his native realm, luring forth a sracli to be his steed. Wingbeats reached his ears a moment later, and with ease he lept up onto the giant bird’s back. It fell to his will with little fight, and began to follow the same path Midna had in her escape.

He caught up with ease. Yet somehow she managed to stay out of reach of himself and the Acolytes, dodging Zant’s magic with an ease that enraged him.

He urged the Twilight to halt in desperation.

Midna only hesitated for a second before crossing the barrier, seeming not to care as her skin began to smoke and burn from the sun.

The sracli however, screamed, as he urged it past the barrier, his domination forced it to continue despite the pain it was in. “I will not be stopped, Midna. I will be King, and I will save our people.”

She didn’t answer, heading towards a rapidly approaching dust cloud.

More humans? No matter, they’d fall as easily to his power as all the rest. He nudged the Twilight barrier into movement again, urging his Acolytes to follow once more.

The closer they got to the cloud, the easier it was to make out the two beasts carrying two, no three, humans on their backs. In the back of Zant’s mind, something twisted and grew rank. Alive, the Mad God’s voice shook him more than the magic had. Sacrifice to the mirror.

“Yes, my Lord.” Zant would obey, even if he did not understand.

Minda finally seemed to give into the pain, letting out a scream as she fell onto the sand.

The humans were almost upon her, and Zant gathered his magic, sending it flying towards them. The biggest of the three shoved the one riding with them off the beast, the magic only catching the two riders and their beasts within the Twilight. He let it pick away at them as he scooped up the third—definitely a woman—though he was surprised they hadn’t already been leached into spirits.

She struggled, grabbing one of the pins in her hair and trying to stab him with it. With ease he caught her wrist, inside the two other humans were struggling to get out and resist the drain of Twilight. Making sure they were watching he broke the woman’s wrist, her scream almost as pleasing as Midna’s. It was almost a shame they’d both be sacrificed to the Mad God.

The bigger of the two humans inside roared, and for a moment Zant lost sight of them as magic and raw power slammed against the ball in an explosion of light. Zant barely managed to keep control. It was no wonder then, that the Mad God wanted them, though he could sense no equal power in the woman crying in his arms. He wrapped his hand around her throat in clear warning, the small human putting a hand on the larger, saying something in their hissing tongue. The giant didn’t attempt to escape again.

Finally the Twilight barrier caught up with them. One of his Acolytes scooped up Midna, as he handed the human woman off to another. “Take them to the Mirror.”

He turned his attention to the two humans in the ball, trapped now within two layers of Twilight. Neither of them were struggling, but the hate in their eyes was clear. So it was good then, that they wouldn’t be living long.

Clenching his fist he shrank the bubble, no need to waste magic on senseless beasts, and let it drag behind him as he turned the sracli to follow his Acolytes once more.

When he reached the chamber, he was not surprised to see the Mirror had changed, the geometric white lines of Twili magic gone into feral twists of magenta as the Mad God took it for His own. Midna, showing her resilience, was waking once more, struggling to free herself even as she lost strength. “I will return again, Zant! I’ll stop you!”

“I doubt it very much, my dear. I would tell you to honor your agreements next time, but you won’t ever get that chance. Throw them in.” This time he would at least see the work done, to make sure that it wasn’t botched again.

Raising the ball of Twilight he tossed it into the Mirror at the same time Midna and the woman were.

The Mirror flashed from magenta to green, then returned to white. The four of them gone, for good.

With a wave of his hand, Zant shattered the mirror, the Acolytes collecting the six shards as a magenta edged tear appeared in the chamber. The Mirror shattered, and the tear would be sealed once Zant had finished spreading the Twilight, meant there would be no way to move from this world back to the Twili Realm. There was more than enough here to keep the Mad God satisfied for a long time, however, Zant was sure.

“So then, let us begin our invasion in earnest. I wonder if our lost children have survived, or if any have dared to follow in the footsteps of the Great Betrayers.”

None of his Acolytes could answer, even if they wanted to.

Notes:

And here ends part 1!

Part 2 will begin on March 31 (so no new chapter next week).

If you're musically inclined I also have an OT3 spotify playlist (general, and not specific to this story).

If you want to come and chat with me you can do so on my my writing Tumblr or my twitter.

And as a teaser for Part 2, here's the epigraph:

You, whose heart would sing of anarchy.
You would laugh at meanings, guaranteed, so beautifully.
When our truth is burned from history,
by those who figured justice in for memory, witness me.

Chapter 12: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in for Memory

Notes:

Welcome all to part two! Hope you all enjoy it as much as you did the last one.

Part title comes from “Better Love” by Hozier

Link awoke to utter darkness. Taking a few deep breaths he did his best to keep himself calm as he waited for his eyes to adjust. His ears twitched as he heard a strange grinding sound above him, like he was in a flour mill or something.

His eyes...didn’t adjust. He didn’t think he’d gone blind. He hoped it was only that there wasn’t even a sliver of light wherever they were. They…

Though he couldn’t see, he could at least still feel. Meaning he could push himself up from the stone floor and carefully feel around. He encountered a large...he hoped arm, he moved his hands towards where it got smaller, and no, he’d found the King’s leg.

Letting go of it quickly he shuffled further...up he guessed, finally finding an arm. He moved down again, fingers settling on a warm wrist and Link let himself have a sigh of relief as he felt a steady pulse beneath his fingers. So hopefully he wasn’t too injured, if at all. So that was the King, but what about Zelda?

Another careful search, until his fingers found hair. He supposed it could’ve also been that child who’d been tossed into whatever that was with them, but Link found himself doubting it as he reached a head and touched familiar jewelry. The pulse at Zelda’s neck beat just as steadily as the Kings, and Link let himself relax, a little. A little more when Zelda let out a small groan, shifting away from his touch.

He didn’t try to help her, at least not until he heard a cry of pain.

Even in the dark he somehow managed to catch her. “Thank...thank you, Link.” She sounded almost like she was speaking through gritted teeth, but if she was in pain that didn’t surprise him. He continued to steady her until light finally filled the space.

Zelda tossed the balls of light she’d summoned into the air, revealing they were in a small root cellar of some sort. Once Link ascertained there was no one there but them, he focused back on her. That she’d tossed the lights with her left hand when she was right handed… He could feel himself blanch a little as he looked at her right hand, something about it wrong in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

The memory returned to him, that he and the King had been trapped inside something that leached and pulled while Zelda had been outside it, and that human shaped thing had broken her wrist. 

Link reached for it, but Zelda snatched her arm away before he could touch it. “It’s fine, Link, I can heal it.” She stood and began staggering towards the set of stairs that clearly led somewhere. Not even turning to look around the rest of the room, she hadn’t even asked about the King, or the child.

Moving before he could really think about it, Link caught up to her and moved to block her from going up the stairwell. Shaking his head, not quite believing he was doing it. He pointed behind them, towards where the King was, the child must have been behind him, if Link couldn’t see them clearly.

She grit her teeth, clutching her still broken wrist. “Link, we need to get back to Hyrule. Our people need us if they’re to withstand those...those...things.”

Another shake of his head, and a pointed jerk of his chin, because clearly a finger hadn’t been enough, back towards the King, who was beginning to rise himself.

Zelda didn’t even turn around. “I am sure King Ghananorv is more than capable of looking after his own people, and preparing for his own war. In the name of expediency, I think we can agree.”

“How easily you forget, Princess, that you are my people now too,” the King’s voice was low as thunder, though it did little to hide the anger there. “Or are you going to follow in the footsteps of all your ancestors and just do as you please, without regards to whomever it might harm, or what promises it might break?”

“I forget nothing.” Zelda whirled on him with a hiss. “Especially not the fact that you have lied to me, likely for years. Or am I to believe you only just received that?” She asked with a sneer, gesturing to the glowing mark on his hand. The Triforce of Power. “And I will honor our bargain, King Ghananorv. When I turn twenty, you and I will wed, and you will be crowned King of Hyrule, if there’s any Hyrule left to rule. But understand this, Your Majesty, it will be as political a marriage as any other.”

A whimper caught Link’s attention, and his gaze left Zelda and the King. Darting around until he finally spotted the small form of the child that...man had thrown into that portal alongside them. Putting his fingers to his lips, Link blew sharply. The loud whistle drowning out even the King’s voice for a moment. Link was unbowed by their matching glares. “Maybe,” his fingers jerked sharply in his own anger. “We should help the person who saved our lives before they die.”

The anger didn’t disappear from the King, but Link could clearly see the other man put it aside for now. “Yes, you’re right.” He turned towards the person, summoning his own light. The strange green markings on her blue-black skin seemed to dim under the light. The King knelt next to her.

Only to let out a snarl when a huge golden wolf appeared above the child, blue eyes blazing and teeth barred in warning.

The King bared his own teeth back. “I am going to heal the vehvi, not hurt her,” he snapped. “If you are going to fight me, then I will not hesitate to banish you, spirit, for the living come before the dead.”

“Ghan!” Zelda’s exclamation seemed to catch even her off guard.

The King didn’t turn to her. “Am I not already evil in your eyes? The Demon King you Zeldas always seem to fear?” Anger laced every word.

Zelda flinched, but remained quiet.

The wolf continued to growl in warning. Until finally the King had clearly had enough. He spread out his fingers and shoved his open hand towards the wolf, a golden, sparking net flying from it. The wolf yelped as the net hit it, surrounding it and pinning it to the floor.

Link glanced at Zelda, to see her reach out, only to stop herself. Had she wanted to help the wolf, or the King? That she hadn’t gone through the trouble of healing herself was worrying to Link. The King clearly still had his magic, so why wasn’t she doing anything about her own injury? Or had she just forgotten? Worrying in it’s own right.

A grunt from the King drew his attention back to the other man. Who rocked back on his heels and flicked his wrist to free the wolf. “I’ve done what I can, the should hopefully wake shortly. Though conversing will be a problem.”

Right, they and the man had conversed, but it had all sounded like gibberish to Link’s ears, and he debuted they knew any sort of Sign.

The wolf returned to the child and sniffed them, before barring his teeth one more time at the King before vanishing. “Don’t know why I expected differently,” the King muttered.

It likely hadn’t been aimed at Zelda, but Link still saw her flinch again.

Before she could try to leave again, Link grabbed her by her left shoulder and pushed her towards the King. Who seemed just as surprised as she. “She’s hurt,” Link said pointedly.

The King’s eyes darkened, likely recalling what happened. He held a hand out to her. “Let me see it.”

Zelda pulled her wrist even closer to herself somehow. “It’s fine. I can take care of it myself, I just need to eat something first. No need to bother yourself on my account, Your Majesty.” She tried to step back, but Link moved behind her, pushing her forward again.

The King caught her before she could fall, settling her on his lap and pinning her with one arm while he gently held her broken wrist in the other. She struggled at first, glaring at him and Link, before finally settling. “This doesn’t change anything,” she snapped.

“It does not,” the King agreed carefully. Clearly trusting she wasn’t going to leave he covered her injury with both hands. “I...was scared.” Link looked away, wishing he didn’t even have to hear this. “I know the Demon King was not a good man, even by his own reckoning, and you Hyruleans feared him so. Does what I have really change anything? I told you before, Zelda, that we might be the same spirit, but we are not the same man. But I am sorry that I did not tell you sooner, that my fear got the best of me.”

“You lied to me,” Zelda responded quietly. “How can I trust that you haven’t lied about anything else. When, when whatever this invasion is is over, we can sit down and renegotiate the contract, but I will still honor the terms.” Link turned to see her stand. “I accept your apology, but I cannot forgive you.” She fumbled a low curtsy. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” This time Link let her run away, she likely needed some alone time to think.

The King watched her, mournfully. Link clenched his fists to keep from commenting. 

Once she’d disappeared, the King sighed, and turned his attention back to the child. Taking off his sash, he unfolded it completely and set her on it, taking off the broken mask she’d been wearing before wrapping her in it. Thankfully the wolf didn’t reappear.

“And what will you do, Link?” The King didn’t spit the words, but Link could tell the other man was perhaps lashing out a little.

He bared his teeth back. “Why should I do anything? You hurt Zelda, but she’s hurt you back.” The Triforce on his own hand flared for a moment, and the one on the King’s hand echoed it, before vanishing completely—Link wished he could make his do that. “I guess now I know why you always make me feel itchy.” Easier to admit it when he knew it was just Goddess-made, and not something between them.

“Is that so?” The King gathered the child in his arms and stood. “Are you sure it’s just the Triforce?” He stepped closer to Link.

“It is,” Link insisted.

The King stepped closer, bent down some. This time there was no wall trapping Link, but he somehow still felt frozen in place. “I don’t think it’s just that, Link.”

Link stumbled back, and followed Zelda’s retreat.

-

Zelda very much wanted to hide herself away and cry and cry and cry until she’d dried herself out, then likely start crying all over again the moment she drank even a sip of water.

As much as she wanted to do that, and oh how she wanted, she couldn’t. Hyrule would need her strong and steady to face off against the invading force it was likely engaged in already. Her nails dug into her arms, the pain helping her focus. She wouldn’t allow herself to lose control, not now.

She found herself staring blankly at the giant gears endlessly turning above her. Recalling what she’d been told of Labrynnian clocks. They had ones like these, big as buildings meant for a whole town. They made smaller ones now too, she’d been told. An ambassador a few years ago had hinted that her wedding gift from the Commonwealth was supposed to be a clock, one that told not only the hour, but the phase of the moon and the current astrological season as well.

Goddesses, her wedding, something that started pulling her back towards wanting to cry herself dry. To say it wasn’t fair would do her no good. Fairness wasn’t an ingrained fact of life, it was something you had to work towards. Things like fate and destiny didn’t care about fair, didn’t care that she’d been happy and perhaps falling in love before tearing it all away from her.

Had it all been doomed from the start then? That she and King Ghananorv would always be on opposite sides of the battlefield in the end, regardless of what they wanted?

Or was Impa right and there would always be a choice?

Before she could think further on that, footsteps reached her ears. She turned towards the stairs to see Link, looking a little red climbing up. About half a minute later, King Ghananorv followed, the strange child bundled up in his sash.

“I think we might be in Labrynna,” she did her best to keep her voice cool as she pointed up at the gears. “Ended up in one of those tower clocks.”

King Ghananorv grunted. “Then we’ve a ways to travel before we reach home.”

“Ahhh, travelers, we get so few of them these days, this time of year.” The reedy voice came from behind them and Zelda felt her heart leap into her chest as she whirled around.

The man, or at least they looked like a man, was as reedy as his voice. Nearly bent over from the giant bag he was carrying on his back, covered in masks of all sorts. He himself wore a mask, a strangely patterned magenta one, that clashed awfully with his red hair. “Apologies, apologies,” he gave a low bow. “I did not mean to frighten, I did not.”

“Can you tell us where we are?” Zelda asked cautiously, he’d appeared from seemingly nowhere after all. 

“Clock Town,” he answered, wringing his hands. “Termina, further from your home than you’d likely thought, yes? Ahhh, but I can help, I can.”

Termina? She’d never heard of such a country before, had they left the continent? As far as she knew no one had tried to sail the oceans to see what else might be on their world, and she wasn’t exactly pleased at the thought that they might be the first. She shared a look with Link, and despite her better judgement, King Ghananorv as well.

“Help how?” The King asked.

The man clapped his hands, and she could almost picture him smiling beneath his mask. “I can get you back where you belong, that I can. I’ve traveled far and wide, know so very many shortcuts. Can get you where you need to be faster than you can blink!” He snapped his fingers in emphasis.

Zelda took a deep breath. “What do you want in return?” Because such a thing couldn’t be free. Even with how friendly he was acting.

“It is a simple thing, it is. I am but a humble mask salesman, I travel far and wide looking for rare and unusual masks to add to my collection. During my first night here one of them was stolen from me! My prize possession, a one of a kind mask once used in dark rituals. It was stolen from me by a demon child, the wretched creature laughed as it danced off!” His fists clenched. “Return it to me and you shall have what you deserve, I swear, I swear.”

“A moment,” the King said.

Discomfort filtered through Zelda, at how easily he moved her and Link, then wrapped them in some sort of spell—likely to keep the salesman from overhearing. “I don’t trust him.”

“What choice do we have?” Link asked. “It’s not like we know where Termina is, or how to get back to Hyrule from here.” He shrugged. “I think we’ve got to agree, even if we don’t like it. The more time we waste, the worse things will be when we get back home.”

“I agree,” Zelda said. “I don’t think we have much of a choice.”

“I know,” the King ground out. “But I don’t have to like it.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, she could feel magic for a moment before it seemed to twist and disappear. “Wherever we are, it’s far. Too far for anything I can do.” The spell around them broke.

“We accept,” Zelda told the salesman. “We’ll find your mask, and in return you’ll send us back to our home.”

“Agreed, agreed.” The man bobbed his head in a nod. “Good, good.” He set his pack down and reached inside. “Before you go outside, you’ll need these, yes you will.” He pulled out three masks and held them out. “It is moon season out there, and we wouldn’t want your faces stolen by demons! No, that would not do at all.”

Link held out a bag that clinked with rupees, only for the salesman to shake his head. “No, no, no, you will return them to me with the other mask. Come, now, take one.”

They were all animal themed, a strange mossy looking wolf face, an indigo, purple and gold roc mask, and a blue boar mask. Link snatched up the boar one before she or the King could move. Zelda took the roc, leaving the King the wolf.

“And this!” The salesman produced three small nuts. “We all may understand each other for I’ve traveled wide and know many, many languages, but out there they do not speak as we do, they do not. These are jabber nuts, they help you speak and understand other languages. These will help you, so much more quickly, yes?”

“We’ll need another,” Zelda found herself saying quickly. “We’ve a child traveling with us, they’re just asleep right now. We don’t need a mask for them, though, they already have one.” They’d just have to go back downstairs and get it again.

The man closed his fist and reached back into his bag. “Not, a problem, no.” This time he held our four. “There you are, no charge for them, no charge. They’re easy to find where I’m from, grow like weeds, yes.”

Carefully they each took a nut, the flavor and texture like any other nut Zelda had ever eaten. She supposed they wouldn’t know if it worked until they talked to someone else, or the child woke up. Granted, Zelda had almost understood her and the man before, for they seemed to have been speaking some archaic form of Sheikah. Though she’d only been able to understand one word in ten, if that.

“Also, also, since you have the rupees to spend, I should suggest you get new clothes, yes, yes? Those are nice, very nice indeed, but the people here are leery of pirates, so very leery, and you certainly look like them, yes, yes.” The man gave a bow. “That is all, return here when you have gotten my mask back, yes, now go, be on your way. And may He return to slay his Mother, yes, yes. That is what we all hope.”

King Ghananorv looked thoughtful and  disturbed at his words, but Zelda found herself more concerned with what lay one the other side of the doors. They opened easily, to her surprise, and she was greeted with the sight of well, a town. It was night, but there were strange bright lights all about, though the streets were empty.

Link nearly yanked on her shoulder. And she found herself following his finger when he pointed upwards. A choked sound left her.

The moon...the moon was far too close. Illuminated, not in the white, or buttery yellow she was used too from the moon, but magenta and black. 

Malice.

It writhed across the whole surface, and Zelda could swear she saw a face in that chaotic mass, eyes bulging and mouth torn open in a scream. “Oh, Hylia, protect us.” 

Her insides twisted, and Zelda had the feeling they were further from home than they’d even feared.

Notes:

See you next week!

Chapter 13: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in for Memory

Despite the weird salesman’s words, the woman minding the counter—wearing a mask that reminded Link of a bowl of fruit—at the inn they found barely gave them a second glance. Though Link supposed that might have been because of the late hour, and not because she didn’t actually care about their dress.

Two rooms acquired, Link grabbed Zelda and pulled her into one of them, tossing the key to the other at the King—who Link expected to protest, at least a little, only for him to remain silent.

“Link?” Zelda sounded confused as Link closed and locked the door. Only to let out a little ‘eep’ when he pulled her into a hug. “What?” She remained frozen in his arms, but he didn’t let go, afraid if he did she’d back away and explain why she didn’t deserve this.

It was perhaps a little selfish on Link’s part as well, but that just meant he was helping the both of them.

Link started to feel awkward by the time Zelda finally let herself give in. Her arms wrapping around him, hands clutching his kurta. She buried her face in his shoulder and let out an explosive sob. Link ran a hand up and down her back soothingly, carefully he walked backwards until he reached one of the two beds in the room. Sitting down so that she was in his lap. He buried his face in her hair, smelling sweat and lavender as she cried.

-

Ghan blinked blearily at the door as someone knocked on it. His knees complained for a moment as he rose, not happy he’d stayed crouched by the vehvi’s bed all night. Opening the door he was too tired to even be surprised it was Link and Zelda.

“I’m going to get clothes,”  Link explained. “And breakfast. Stay here."

Ghan wanted to point out he was King, and should be giving orders. Before he could, Link was pushing Zelda into the room and adjusting his mask as he walked away. Sighing, Ghan closed the door before going to the vehvi’s bed again. Even though he’d noticed them yesterday—Goddess, only yesterday?—her strange coloration and teal markings were curious still.

“How is she?” Zelda asked cautiously. Ghan supposed it was a good sign she even deigned to talk to him at all.

He shrugged. “She still hasn’t woken, but there’s nothing wrong with her physically, so it may just be shock.” Thankfully for him, that wolf spirit hadn’t reappeared to snarl or attack him since the clock tower. Perhaps it was just biding its time, having made it clear it didn’t like Ghan one bit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zelda raise a hand, before letting it fall back down. He was too kingly to roll his eyes, but he did step back towards the other bed. “You can check her if you’d like.”

Her eyes flashed, and he found himself biting his tongue.

Despite his pride, and the voice inside him, he wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her forgiveness now. He missed how they’d been before, loved her, wasn’t that enough?

A childish thought if he’d ever had one. Because it wouldn’t be. He might still love her, but she’d made it clear she didn’t trust him, and what affection she’d had would be left to wither in the unforgiving sunlight of her anger.

Perhaps in time he could win her friendship again, but he might have to content himself with never receiving her love. At least there he had the stories and History to aid him in a way, the Gerudo knew well how to love someone who didn’t love you back. He could hope she wouldn’t deprive him of their children, that he would be allowed to shower them with the affection they would deserve.

“I wonder if she’s from the same place as those creatures…” Zelda’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She’d moved to stand next to the vehvi, pressing the back of her marked hand against their forehead.

She was clearly talking to herself, and Ghan had to wonder if she would appreciate a response. In the end, he couldn’t help himself. “They could be,” he said. “We never saw what was under the mask of our attacker, and their tones suggested they knew each other.” Anger like that only came from familiarity, from affection gone sour. He prayed to his Mother that he and Zelda wouldn’t follow in the same footsteps.

Zelda sighed, but didn’t snap at him for answering, so he would take it. “I hope she wakes soon, I have so many questions.”

Ghan bit his cheek to keep from smiling fondly.

Thankfully, in a way, Link returned, large bag on his shoulder, and slightly smaller one in his hands. He pushed his boar mask—Ghan should’ve fought more over that, because it had felt like that was meant for him—up onto the top of his head as he set the smaller bag down.  “Breakfast . Clothes later.”

The bag, which appeared to be made of paper, was filled with pastries. In silent agreement they set two aside for the vehvi, before digging into the rest—at least these didn’t look or taste too different from what he was used to.

“How did it go, Link?” Zelda asked as she nibbled on something that seemed to have red jelly inside it.

Link shrugged, shoving the rest of his own pastry into his mouth before answering fully. “Alright, creepy seeing everyone wearing masks. Discovered I don’t have as much rupees as I thought I did.”

“Who stole from you? ” Ghan managed to keep most of the offense out of his voice. He knew they’d both been trained in such things, Link should’ve been able to catch a pickpocket before they even touched him. That he’d let it happen was mildly insulting.

His words earned him a brief glare from Link. “Wasn’t robbed,” he replied sharply. “Their rupees are different, should thank our lucky stars they take rupees at all. They don’t have yellows, and I tried to pay for all our clothes with a silver, only to be told it wouldn’t be enough.” Ghan would take the annoyance over Link’s refusal of attraction—it couldn’t all be the Triforce.

And what did it say about Ghan, that he found himself drawn to a woman who would likely never love him, and a vuei who denied being drawn to him by more than just magic?

-

Midna opened her eyes, a coldness settling in her chest when she noticed the light was the same sort of sunniness of the Older Lands, and not the Twilight she’d grown up with. At least the light was diffuse enough that it only stung instead of hurt.

She must have made a sound, for a second later three heads appeared. The humans she had vague memories of from Hyrule.

The red-haired one—she ached a little at the thought of how many of her people would do much to have hair that shade—asked something in a sinuous language.

Letting out a groan she pushed herself upright, grimacing at her small hands. She was going to kill Zant for this indignity. Bad enough he didn’t have the decency to kill her himself, but to turn her into a child before handing her off? Her hands clenched into fists.

One of the pale-skinned blonds asked a question in a different language, the words a little harsher.

Midna shook her head. “I can't understand you,” she said. Knowing full well they couldn’t understand her. But at least language could be overcome somewhat.

Indigo Eyes, certainly a better way of differentiating between the two pale ones, scrunched her nose, before holding a small nut out. “Eat seedling, please?” Midna wouldn’t laugh at the girl’s attempt to speak Old Twili, that she knew it at all meant at least Midna might have some allies in Hyrule to help with Zant. She just had to find them.

Perhaps she should have been more wary, after all, she’d known Zant almost all her life and he’d turned on her as easily as water overcame sand. But these strangers had been captured by Zant too, and nearly sacrificed to the Mad God same as her. If they wanted her dead, they could have easily done it while she was unconscious—had the guardian Wolf even managed to travel with her? “Nut,” she found herself correcting. “Not seedling.”

Indigo Eyes grinned at her.

She picked up the nut and popped it into her mouth, it certainly tasted like any other nut she’d ever had. Why they’d asked her to eat it was beyond her.

“My name’s Zelda, what’s yours?” Indigo Eyes asked.

Minda blinked. “I can understand you!” She hadn’t known magic could be grown like that, for this had to be magic. “I’m Midna, of the Forest Clan.”

“That is King Ghananorv, of the Gerudo, and that is Link, my Guard, who is mute, but can still hear.” The other blond gave a wan smile, while the one she’d called a King gave a nod—even as his eyes seemed sad. “You,” Zelda spoke again. “You know of the one who threw us into that portal, right?” She sounded almost embarrassed to be asking such a question.

“I do,” she sighed. “Though I didn’t know he had such treachery in him. His name is Zant, he is Twili, like me.” She waited for them to recoil, to call her demon like the stories said humans would.

But their expressions never changed from curiosity, had they been forgotten? Her heart sank, then maybe the ones she’d hoped would be allies wouldn’t know her at all, wouldn’t remember the songs and blessings her people had once bestowed upon them.

“We come from a realm of Twilight, I...I had earned the right to be our people’s Queen, and Zant, my childhood friend, grew angry when I didn’t bestow upon him the honors and rank he thought he deserved immediately.” She bared her teeth in a snarl. “He didn’t seem to understand that for all his anger, his power wasn’t strong enough to stand as my King, yet. If Zant had had a breath of patience, we could have turned that rage in his heart into a symphony for the ages, and I would have gladly made him King. Instead he threw it away to be a whistle in a thunderstorm.”

Both Link and Zelda appeared taken aback, but King Ghananorv nodded. “You are still a spirit who has not chosen, though.” She expressed her confusion and he snorted. “Child,” he clarified. Strange, she had the sense he spoke that in a different language, but she could still understand.

“He turned me into this,” she bit out. “Before giving me over to one of his Acolytes to sacrifice to the Mad God.” The Mad God might have still been living, but everyone knew you respected and honored Him, nothing more. For Zant to throw his all into worshiping Him, perhaps she’d never understood her friend and former lover at all. “I’m, I’m powerful,” she had to be, to earn the right to rule. “But even I can’t break a God’s curse.”

Zelda opened her mouth, to ask more questions, but before she could, Link nudged her with a shoulder. Fingers beginning to move. Proof enough that the nut had magical properties, for she could understand that the finger movements were words. “ We have food for you, and clothes. We were planning on leaving the room to explore soon, if you’re up for it. We’re not in Hyrule anymore, but supposedly if we find something for a salesman, he’ll help us get back there.”

“I could eat,” Midna agreed. “But I don’t need clothes. My people...we’ve spent too many generations in the Twilight, the sunlight burns us now.” She’d never known pain could be that agonizing before.

“Then I guess you don’t need this, either.” King Ghananorv held up the sacrificial mask the Acolytes had forced onto her.

She shook her head violently. “Destroy it, I don’t want to see that awful thing ever again.” She shuddered, and gratefully accepted the two brightly colored… large sweets Link handed to her. She nibbled on one, the tastes unlike anything she’d ever had, they were at least delicious. She consumed both perhaps far more quickly than she should have.

A golden nudge touched the edges of her mind, and she felt a warmth that somehow the Wolf had managed to come with her, that she at least had someone she could count on implicitly, and not just tentative allies. Familiar magic flowed through her as she rose off the bed, diving right towards the floor by the King.

He gave a yelp as she vanished into his shadow, and she couldn’t help her giggle. Zelda and Link appeared flabbergasted. “Don’t worry,” Midna told them cheerily. “I can still see and hear everything, and can respond, though everyone else can hear me too. But I’ll be safe and sound in here.” She made her eyes appear in the shadow, so she could wink at them all.

“And why my shadow?” The King asked dryly.

“Why, it’s the biggest, of course!” She answered.

Chapter 14: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in for Memory

Notes:

The song mentioned later in the chapter is this one, "Sacro Bosco" by Anna von Hausswolff.

Perhaps the strangest thing was that Ghan couldn’t feel Midna in his shadow—inasmuch as anyone could feel anything in their shadow—but he could also feel her awareness as he took off his jewelry, his crown, packing them all away carefully in his sirwal and sash, where they would be harder to find, before tucking both into the bag Link had brought with him.

The non-Gerudo clothes he wore felt strange, but in a way that was good, strange clothes for a strange world and a new, or perhaps old, perception of himself.

Slipping on her mask, Gandin stepped into the hall, crouching down next to him. “Zelda?” She asked carefully. The draw was there as always, certainly less magical in nature than Link would insist.

Link shrugged, pointing to the room he and she had shared last night—Gandin wouldn’t think about how Link had comforted Zelda last night, the sound of Zelda’s crying keeping the King up almost was much as his worry for Midna had. “Still hasn’t come out yet,” he answered. “You look strange without all the gewgaws.”

Gandin raised her eyebrows sharply, forgetting Link couldn’t actually see it. “Gewgaws?” She sniffed. “I’m certain the King’s Adornments have never been called thus before. If I were the King I’m certain I’d be more insulted than I am.”

Which earned her a stare. “You are the King, Majesty. Even if you’re not wearing a crown.”

Shaking her head, Gandin shrugged. “All Gerudo are vai outside the Gintu,” she quoted. “I am possibly further from home than any Gerudo has been before me. So I am Gandin once again.”

“Bullshit.”  The word was accompanied by a glare, made a little more menacing by Link’s own boar mask. “All Gerudo are vai, but the King is always voe,” he countered. “You’re the King, so you are voe, so you are the King.”

“That is a cyclical argument, and you know it,” she replied lightly. Doing her best to hide the turmoil that was rising inside her at the conundrum. “I may have the power of a king,” she flexed her hands. “But without a people what is there to be king of?”

Link turned so he was facing her. “I’m Gerudo now, right? And Zelda, too?”

“I’m not sure Zelda would agree with that,” Gandin answered dryly. “Considering everything. And considering your reluctance in other things, are you certain you’d wish to be my sole subject?”

Even under the mask, Gandin could tell Link was blushing furiously, holding both pinkies up in insult.

Gandin didn’t bother to hide her smug grin, knowing Link couldn’t see it anyways. “You know full well it is not.” She bit back laughter when Link refused to look at her.

“You humans are so strange,” Midna’s voice seemed to float up to them from everywhere. At least it came at the level of a whisper, and that they were the only ones waiting in the hall. “How is it that you became king, if you can toss it so easily aside? I have no subjects either, but I still have proof that I am Queen-to-be.” She sounded curious, despite her cutting words.

Shaking her head, Gandin, Ghan—perhaps there was no one to blame but himself for making this so complicated—huffed. “My Mother is Din, I am given to her people every hundred years to rule as their King.”

A thoughtful sound filled the hall. “The Three always seemed so cold and aloof, I’m surprised one of them had the thought to create a child.” Her words were a strange shock.

“You don’t worship them?” Granted he didn’t know if anyone here worshiped them either, if they’d even heard of the Three at all.

“No,” Midna answered plainly.

Before she could elaborate the door Zelda was behind opened. She looked lovely as always, even in a plain dress. The roc mask she wore made her eyes more vivid and his heart ached as she stepped towards them. “Here,” her voice was almost flat as she shoved her own sirwal and choli at him, both lumpy with her own jewelry.

Ghan-Gandin, took them carefully, doing her best to not touch Zelda. Even as she wanted to demand the Princess put the jewelry back on—thief risk or no—because then at least he’d know she was well and truly safe.

“Ready to go?” Zelda directed this question firmly at Link.

“Oh, yes,” Midna answered for all of them. “Though our question about whether the King here is King at all was quite interesting.”

Zelda managed to look curious, even through the mask, likely despite herself. “Oh?”

“I’m a King,” Ghan never imagined he’d sound grumpy about it. “Though I think both you and I should keep our statuses unmentioned, if possible, Zelda.”    

That she gave a nod surprised him. “Yes, that would likely be better. We don’t know anything about these people after all, better to just be common travelers.” Unlikely common ground, and Ghan doubted there would be more soon, and perhaps hated that it felt like a drop of hope to his parched heart.

“Then come on,” Link stood and dusted himself off. “Let’s find out about these people. ”

The woman with the fruit mask was gone this morning, replaced by a man in a sun mask. He gave them a little cheery wave as they passed.

Outside Ghan realized how true Link’s words had been. It was strange, almost eerie, to see everyone, from child to adult, in a full mask. Moreso because none of the masks had human faces, they were either objects, or animals. It made a certain sort of sense, if you wore a mask to keep something from stealing your face, you didn’t want them to steal anything that could resemble a human face either.

The masks did make Ghan notice something else, all the humans here—and it was only humans—all had rounded ears like his own, none pointed as Link’s, Zelda’s, or even Midna’s were. Curious.

They followed a small stream of people and the smell of woodsmoke to what had to be the town square. Where they’d come from last night, Ghan realized, for the clock tower was the centerpiece. Though more attention was on the entertainment around it. 

The whole thing did have a festival air about it: dancers and acrobats performed around and above them, nearby was a puppet show surrounded by children, cheering and jeering in turns. There was a bonfire on the other side of the square next to some game stalls, which more children, and a few adults, clustered around; throwing what looked like dolls into the flames.

Honestly the only thing it seemed to be missing was food and drink, and from the way people would hastily adjust their masks if they started to slip, he doubted they’d find any out of the street.

“We should probably start searching for the mask the Salesman wants returned,” Zelda said. “Do you think we’d be lucky enough that someone in town is wearing it?”

Link snorted and shook his head. “If we were that lucky we’d still be in Hyrule.”

She huffed fondly. “No need to be mean about it.” Despite her chastising words, there was a warmth to them. “Do we want to split up to cover more ground? Granted, this place doesn’t seem as large as Castle Town, we could likely canvas the whole place today. Perhaps we should ask around, see if anyone’s heard anything too.”

“Alright,” Ghan agreed, if reluctantly. He was half tempted to trail after Zelda, just to make sure she was safe, even knowing that would only make her more angry at him than she already was. Time, it turned out, was going to be easier to give her than space.

Taking a few deep breaths he pulled himself away from the two of them, trusting that their training would be enough to protect them. He took a side street, which seemed to all be residences from the looks of it. He paid close attention to each mask, until he realized the Salesman had never actually given them a description of what the mask looked like.

With a curse he instead spread out his magic, if it had been used in rituals it had to have magical residue of some sorts, frowning when he felt his magic being tugged upwards. He looked up, seeing nothing but the sun rapidly heading towards the still visible moon. The writhing Malice, the almost face, Ghan could have sworn he’d seen something like it before, but he couldn’t place it.

“I think I hate this place,” Midna spoke quietly.

Ghan would’ve spoken to agree with her, but a man carrying a sack hurried past, and Ghan didn’t want to attract the attention.

He eventually found himself back in the town square, closer to the bonfire. This close he could see that the dolls were effigies: too-thin, human-like figures with gray skin. The children cheered each time one burst into flames.

“Burn, burn under flame and sword!

The Son will come to slay you all!”

Suppressing a shudder, Ghan moved away. Recalling the Salesman’s words from last night, he had to wonder what faith these people had. What deity would engender the belief that a son would slay his mother?

An itching pull made him realize Link was nearby, and he followed it to find the Hylian engaged in a conversation with someone running an archery stall. Link spared him a glance, but kept up his conversation. Ghan wondered if the man running the stall thought it strange he could understand Link’s sign, or if he thought about it at all.

Link nodded, then headed over.

“Anything?” Ghan asked.

A shake of the head. “Not that I’ve asked many people. Cursed masks seem like they’d draw bad attention if you asked too much about it.”

“True,” Ghan replied with a snort. “Though I’m realizing the Salesman failed to describe it for us. I’ve tried sensing it with magic, but I think the moon is throwing me off.” As if in response to his words, the world began to grow dimmer. They both looked up to see the moon begin to eclipse the sun.

Somewhere music began, loud and strangely airy. Almost as one, all the humans around them stopped what they were doing and began to head somewhere. He didn’t even need to glance at Link to know they were both going to follow. 

The song grew louder the closer they were, the melody sad and almost yearning. Like with the moon earlier, something about it rang as familiar to Ghan, though he couldn’t place where.

Zelda found them near a large stone building that had the look of a Temple, the music clearly coming from an instrument inside. People flowed around them as they headed inside, clearly for a service of some sort.

“We should follow,” she said. “I’m curious to know what’s inside the Temple. And I think..I think there’s something important inside we need to know.” 

“Alright,” Ghan agreed again. Though he recalled the last time Zelda had had a feeling, it hadn’t gone well for any of them.

-

The first thing Zelda noticed as they stepped inside the Temple was the smell: something cloying and almost overpowering coating her nose and tongue with each inhale. The smell only getting stronger as they passed braziers guarding another set of doors.

Through these was the sanctum proper. No statues like Zelda expected, or even open space, instead there were rows of benches running parallel, and quickly being filled by the still-masked congregation.

She glanced up and gave a little gasp. Though it was dark outside from the eclipse, she could still clearly make out the design of the stained glass window: Din forming the land. Except...she did a quick double-check in her mind. It should have been on the west side of the Temple, not the north.

Her eyes glanced westward behind them as they took a seat near the back of the temple. Nayru and the waters. How strange.

The southern window above the doors they entered from showed Farore and the woods, and she almost laughed that that apparently hadn’t changed.

Finally she looked forward, where the altar and the man playing the pipe organ—she’d only ever read of such an instrument before, when the castle had been rebuilt, they hadn’t bothered to put in a new one in the chapel—were. The pipes of the organ itself surrounded another stained glass window. This one of a man. His skin was pale and strange red and blue lines crossed his face. Blond hair fell almost to his shoulders, and he held a sword in his hands almost as large as he was.

Zelda shuddered as she met his empty black eyes.

The organist stopped, and the silence stretched out as he stood and turned to the crowd; Zelda gave a start as she realized his was the first mask with a human face she’d seen—resembling the man in the window’s. The priest, at least that’s what Zelda assumed he was, raised his hands up, the sleeves of his blue and red robe falling back to reveal markings Zelda couldn’t make out.

“As we shelter here from Her wrath,” he intoned. “Let us remember why the Calamity,”—Zelda barely managed to hold in her surprise—“rages, and the promise the Three gave us of salvation.”

“Let us remember,” the congregation intoned.  

“Long ago,” the priest began as he lowered his arms. “The Three Goddesses made the land of Termina, and the people who inhabited it loved them and thanked them for their many gifts. But their sister, Calamity,”—Zelda still couldn’t quite believe it, that somehow these people thought Calamity-Demise a female figure, let alone a sister to the Three— “saw all they had, and heard what her wretched, face-stealing, gray demons had to say of the land, and hungered to have it for herself.

“She scooped up her squalling babe, the Fierce Deity himself, and together they went to see her Sisters. ‘Let me join you,’ she said sweetly at the edges of Termina. ‘I wish to give the people my gifts, and have their thanks.’” The priest stepped out from behind the altar, his voice growing more emphatic as he spoke and paced.

“The Three Sisters, however, knew their sister. Her gifts were ones no one wished to have, perhaps save her demons! She could not even care for her own Son, so how could She care for anyone else? The Three met the eyes of Calamity, dark with eternal hunger, and said: ‘No, Calamity, you cannot join us. Our world is not for you, though you are our dearest Sister.’

“Calamity’s scream drowned out the hungry cries of her Son, but try as she might, she could not enter the realm of Termina. ‘I will join you there,’ she spat in horrible promise. ‘I cannot be denied forever.’ Clutching her Son tightly she stormed away.” Caught up in the story, Zelda found herself shivering at the hate that dripped from this Calamity’s words. She didn’t know how true this was, but it was clear the people here believed it.

“The Three knew their Sister spoke the truth, that She would find a way, a terrible and evil way, to join them in Termina. So they hatched a plan, for as powerful as they were, they could not defeat their Sister, not alone.

“First, they made the Blessed Giants, to guard Termina and protect it from all Evils. Then they went to Calamity's hut. Nayru lulled Calamity to sleep, while Din and Farore fed Calamity’s Son honey and milk, His cries quieting as He knew satisfaction, and was hungry no more. Wrapping the Fierce Deity in soft cloth they took Him away and returned to Termina. Where they called for the best and the brightest of all the people to attend them, saying that they would take them to a heavenly place, where they would help raise and care for Calamity’s Son. If they so choose.

“Those that agreed were taken away, traveling with the Three to this blessed new land.

“Calamity woke, and realizing what Her sisters had done, She fell into a rage. When She reached the edges of Termina, however, the Giants were there to meet Her. ‘You will not enter,’ they said. ‘We will stop you.’ 

“With the Three gone, the barriers protecting Termina were thinner, and laughing, Calamity began to push through. ‘I cannot be stopped, I will take this land for myself, then reclaim my son!’ The Priest left the alter and began pacing down the aisle, the gaze of everyone on him as he continued.

“Though the Giants were not as powerful as She, they were clever. With their powers combined, as well as the magics protecting Termina, they managed to split Calamity’s spirit and body. Her body they made the moon that hungers for us, and Her spirit they trapped in a mask, that forever seeks to return to it’s body.” Zelda shared a glance with Link, and reluctantly the King. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

“Seeking revenge for their Mistress, her gray demons invaded, but with help of the Giants, the Termians repelled them, banishing them forever from the land!” A cheer rose up from the crowd at these words.

“Tired, the Giants fell into a deep sleep, but not before promising they would wake again.

“As for the Son? He is growing up still, and one day will be powerful enough to return here with His true Mothers, and become the Fierce Deity! When that day comes, the Giants will wake at His call to arms, and together they will all slay Calamity and free us from Her terror!”

“May He return soon to slay His Mother!” Dust fell from the rafters at the force of the people’s cry.

There was pure silence for a moment, and the priest turned, walking back towards the altar. “Now, let us-”

“How dare you!” Midna’s voice interrupted, and before Zelda could even blink the Twili appeared, floating in the air, Zelda thought she might be crying. “How dare you speak ill of the one who gave you everything !” Her... hair ...somehow turned to a giant hand. Stretching for the altar and crushing it.

“How dare you steal Her name for Her dead son!” The hand smashed the stained glass window of the man. “How dare you celebrate the ones who destroyed Majora!”

From somewhere a bag was thrown, Midna dodging out of the way. “Demon!” Someone shrieked.

The priest pointed at her, and then at them, Zelda’s heart began to pound. “Kill all the demons! For the Son!”

“For the Son!” The congregation roared as it turned to them.

Notes:

Dun dun duuunnn...

And here you all were probably wondering wtf I meant by that 'welcome to Cosmology 101' tag...welp, you're only gonna get more from here!

Chapter 15: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in for Memory

Instinct kicked in for Link before everything else. Yanking a still frozen Zelda to him, he picked her up and ran. Trusting the King would grab Midna, that he’d do something to make sure the mob didn’t catch them. Link was absently regretting not having anything that could work as a weapon on him.

Footsteps pounded behind Link, he prayed they were the King’s. There was a familiar roar, and he could feel the stones beneath them shake for a moment. Cries of anger and shock coming from behind. Link was a little grateful he couldn’t manage a yelp, otherwise he would have been very embarrassed with himself when the King scooped him and Zelda up.

The doors collapsed like paper when the King hit them, and they burst into the still-dark streets of Clock Town.

The moon leered at them as they raced for an exit. Whatever the King had done hadn’t stopped the mob for long, Link managed to climb up to peer over the other man’s shoulder to see them chasing after. Some of them had gained weapons, and Link didn’t doubt the bloodlust in their eyes.

Farore finally favored them with a bit of luck, the gates out of town were unguarded. The luck turned sour just as quick, for the gates were closed. 

A fact which appeared to escape the King, considering he didn’t slow his step one bit. Link tugged on his shirt, trying to catch his attention, only to be ignored. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see them crash headfirst into the thick iron.

King Ghananorv yelled, and Link could practically taste the magic that filled the air. Only to clap his hands over his hears to try and dampen the shriek of metal being torn and twisted.

They broke through and were finally out of the town, which Link hoped would be enough to stop the mob, but doubted it. There was a field around them, very much like Hyrule’s own, the King running towards a nearby stand of trees.

Link’s ringing ears twitched, and he couldn’t tell if the laughter he heard was real, or a figment of said ringing.

Something fell from the sky, and crashed into the ground.

A few seconds later a chittering hiss filled the air, and they found themselves surrounded. Link had never actually seen Lizals in real life, but he knew that’s what surrounded them now. Their strange eyes wheeling every which way as they hissed again, brandishing weapons.

Link found himself reaching for the small dagger he did have, not certain it’d do him any better good against Lizalfos, but at this point willing to try. He scrambled up the King’s shoulder, using it to launch himself towards the nearest Lizal. The sky brightened finally as the sun began to peak out from behind the moon. The Triforce on his hand grew warm, and he found himself only a little surprised he managed to get it in the eye.

He left his dagger there for now, snatching up the not-quite-a-sword and shield. Another Lizal attacked and Link let himself get lost in the fight.

As the last one fell, Link let out a slow breath, heart barely pounding as he looked around. Zelda stood in the middle, still in shock from the looks of it. The King was armed now too, though they looked ridiculously small in his hands. Since the sun was out, Link had to hope that if Midna got out she was in the King’s shadow.

There was a crowd around the gate they’d broken, but they didn’t seem inclined to follow them out into the field—Link finally let himself start to relax. Returning to the first Lizal he’d killed he removed his dagger and wiped it clean before tucking it away and rifling through the armor the Lizal wore.

“What are you doing?” Zelda’s voice shook as she spoke. But she spoke, which was good. That there was some emotion in her voice was even better—even if it was mild horror.

“We need money,” the King replied easily. Link glanced over and was glad he wasn’t the only one digging through armor. “And a map, too, since we never had time to buy one.” His arch tone was directed at his shadow.

Red-yellow eyes appeared. “I’m not sorry,” Minda replied primly. “They deserved it.”

Zelda wrapped her arms around herself, and Link very much wanted to go up and hug her, but made himself finish looking. Shaking his head when the King raised a questioning eyebrow. It had probably been too much to ask that one of them might have a map, even a crude one. But that Link managed to get his hands on a bow and arrows was a relief.

The King looked up into the sky, raising his hand to try and judge something. He turned opposite the sun and squinted. “That way,” he pointed.

“Why ?” Link asked.

“West,” the King said. “Nayru is north because that is where the waters of Hyrule come from, yes? Then if Nayru is to the west here, that means water, and possibly those pirates the Salesmen mentioned.”

Zelda carefully stepped around the corpses, Link watched her in case she was going to throw up. “I would think we’d want to avoid pirates, they’re just as likely to kill us it would seem.” She held herself tighter. “This place leaves much to be desired.”

“If pirates are like bandits, they’ll want our money more than our lives. They’ll likely be outcasts, and hopefully not as superstitious as the townsfolk. Talking to them shouldn’t be too hard,” there was perhaps some kingly arrogance there, but Link didn’t doubt the King could also manage it.

“How do you know what pirates are like? The Great Lanayru Sea is gone, isn’t it?” Midna challenged.

All three of them shared looks. Hyrule had had a sea?

“You’re right,” the king amended. “I don’t know, but going somewhere is better than wandering around aimlessly right now. We don’t know much daylight we have left, or what things will be like when it gets dark.” All good points. “If we find out I’m wrong, we’ll try something else,” he allowed. Without waiting for any agreement he began walking west.

Link stepped up next to Zelda. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m fine.” To his surprise she began following the King. “I just hate not knowing anything, and fumbling around in the dark so much. How are things here so different ? A God? ” She looked at him. “I just…” She hugged herself again.

“You’ve got me still,” Link comforted. Reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “And the King too, even if you don’t like him.”  Not that Link didn’t understand.

Weak laughter left her. “Wishing things were different won’t change anything, I know, but I don’t know what else to do.”

All Link could respond with was a shrug.

-

They made camp, if one could call it that, as night began to fall. Gan easily set up the fire, while Link took his bow and went out hunting for dinner. Gan doubted it would be appetizing in any sense of the word, but he’d eat it all the same. They all would need to keep up their strength.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t figure out how to break the silence between him and Zelda. Which was somehow made worse when Midna left his shadow—it was certainly dark enough, the moon was still high in the sky as it had been, but it gave off no light—floating in midair and watching them.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Zelda didn’t quite snap.

Midna shrugged, her peculiar hair grabbing one of the branches Gan had found and tossing it onto the fire. “What else is there to do? Sparkling conversationalist, you are not.”

Gan stepped in before Zelda could get any angrier. “Answers, perhaps? Consider your actions got us run out of town, it would be appreciated.”

“Not yet,” Midna sniffed. “When Link gets back.”

Thankfully, it seemed they didn’t have to wait long. The other man returning with a hare and a few squirrels, which he set about cleaning and preparing.

“So then, Minda, your story?” Zelda pressed. Either she’d forgotten her anger—Gan wished it was that easy—or her curiosity got the better of her. Again, he could wish, he understood her anger and how it was his fault, but that didn’t stop him from hoping the Goddesses might step in and just...make it all better, without any effort on anyone’s part.

But he’d never been that lucky before, so why now?

Midna rolled her shoulders back, her hair curling around her like a snake. “From the Void,” she began. “Came the Four Goddesses, Nayru, Din, Farore, and Majora, and the Nameless God. The Four Sisters decided to fill the void they found themselves in, creating the world of Termina, and all it’s inhabitants, and they each created a Giant, to help watch the land.

“Now the Nameless God had no interest in creation, but he found that when he looked upon what the Sisters had made it was hungry. He came to Termina in a roar, but while the other Goddesses grew fearful and ran away, Majora stood strong against him.” The smell of cooked meat began to fill the air. Zelda opened her mouth as if to protest such a characterization of the Three.

But Midna continued on before she could have a chance. “They fought, and it likely turned to fucking; for both are under Majora’s domain.” Gan found he couldn’t help but snort at that, though in a way he felt as if she were talking more about Din, than this Majora he’d never heard of.

“Soon after, a child was born, another God, and Majora was happy, even if the Nameless God still hungered.

“But the Giants, they grew afraid as Majora told them of Her son, for they feared He would replace them and they would have no purpose in Termina anymore. So, they hatched a plan.

“With the help of the Great Betrayer, a Twili child favored by Majora, they found Majora’s bower and split her soul from her body, trapping it in the Twili’s most sacred object. The Giants took the Child God back to Termina, planning to raise Him and make Him grateful to them for all they’d done.” A breeze began to pick up, sending Zelda and Link huddling closer to the fire. Link checking their dinner to see if it was done before starting to pass the cooked squirrels around.

Midna took her stick when Link offered it to her, and swished it around in emphasis. “Nothing could have prepared them for what came next.” 

“The Nameless God grew incensed with rage, and attacked them. Wounding the Giants, and taking His Son back. But in His anger and madness he did not keep the child, but consumed Him.” This time Gan found he was the one shivering, the thought terrifying.

“In our own rage we Twili hatched a plot to finish off the Giants for their crime. We found the Great Betrayer and laid upon him our most wretched curse: to be the Living Dead.

“Our plan did not succeed, for the Betrayer managed to get to the Giants news of our plot before we captured him. So the Giants gathered the last of their strength and banished us from Termina.”

“Where did you end up?” Zelda asked.

“Hyrule,” Minda answered softly. “Long ago, back in the time of Hylia herself. She welcomed us when we told her of our plight and made us welcome. In our gratitude we took those followers of hers that were willing and changed them, taught them our ways, our language. Even our darkest secrets we gave to them: how to forge a Never Sleep, the Curse of Living Death, granting life to inanimate objects. They called themselves the Sheikah, the evening stars, and we loved them.”

Zelda started, eyes widening. “I...I don’t recall hearing of such a thing when I was taught the History of the Sheikah.” She looked to Link, as if he might know better, but he only shook his head. Gan couldn’t give an answer at all, Sheikah were reviled after their hand in the Massacre. “Though...I did recognize you were speaking Archaic Sheikah…” She drifted off, thoughtfully.

Midna nodded. “Why they do not tell the fullness of their history is not a question I can answer. But, there was peace, for a time. Then somehow, the Nameless God, whom we honored now as the Mad God, came to Hyrule. We mourned that perhaps Termina and Majora were truly lost to us, but also rejoiced that the Giants had gotten their due as her killers.

“And we grew a little hopeful, for the Mad God and Hylia warred. And was that not as it had been with Majora? Could he perhaps be wooing Hylia?” Sparks flew into the dark sky as Gan added another log to the fire. He found himself more invested in the story than he’d thought he’d be, especially considering it now involved a Goddess he didn’t recognize. “Perhaps He was not as Mad as we feared. Yet it was not to be. For Hylia was not cut from the same shadowed cloth as Majora had been. Did not see the gifts that the Mad God, whom she named Demise, sought to give Her. So She defeated Him, sealing Him away.

“We Twili were brought before Hylia’s Sages. ‘Why did you not join us in the fight against Demise? Why do you give Him honors and respect, give Him a living sword as Hylia had? When He is the cause of so much destruction and death?’

“They would not listen to our words, gave no Understanding that the Mad God was as old as the Three they honored, was a part of the cosmos, even as He seemed to seek to destroy it. The reasonings of the Divine are not for us to know, and to seek to understand them is to become mad.

“Perhaps they never meant to hear us at all, for they dragged us all to a dark mirror they had crafted, and banished us into the world within. Leaving us to mourn, and survive, once more.” She shrugged. “And that is the truth as I have been told.” Her hands clenched as if to belie her supposed nonchalance. “Majora helped create this world and these people and now they revile her and I refuse to understand,” her voice broke off.

For a while only the crackle of fire filled the air, until Gan spoke. “We did not even care that the other humans were wary of us, tales of blue-skinned human-seeming demons who had betrayed them for a dark god dogging our steps.” he gave a little laugh. “Who would have thought the humans you didn’t interact with at all were the ones who somewhat remembered you.”

“Later?” Minda appeared curious. “I guess I wasn’t actually there to say what skin colors the other humans had.” She shrugged. “Though I’d argue our skin is gray, not blue.” She made a face.

“Our tales just say we were brought to Hyrule by our Goddess later,” he answers with a shrug.

Zelda worried her lip, and he wanted to stop her but held himself back. “Midna, what’s the object your people say Majora was sealed into?”

She blinked. “Our coronation mask. When we came to Hyrule it was one of the first things we remade, though it doesn’t hold the same history in it. Why?”

“The Salesman never described the mask to us,” Link pointed out.

“True,” Zelda agreed. “And he said it was used in dark rituals. Though considering how much the people here seem to hate the Twili…” 

Midna’s hair bristled. “If it is the same mask, we can’t do it. It’s not a trinket for a collector, it’s Her soul.” Her eyes glittered. “Oh by the Lady Herself...we could free Her. She’d be able to get us all back as easily as some salesman.”

A part of Ghan wanted to say ‘no,’ they don’t know this Goddess after all. Perhaps the people here had it right and she was as bad as Calamity-Demise, whom they seemed to think she was. Not that they had much reason to trust the Salesman, despite the deal they made; he had felt a little off to all of them. “How about we decide that when we get the mask, for all we know, they might not be the same thing.”

Narrowing her eyes, Midna bared her teeth. “I’d stake my life they are. And I, at least, am not letting the chance to fix the wrongs done to her pass me by.”

 “We are not enemies,” Zelda burst in emphatically. “Turning ourselves in to that will only make things harder for us in the long run.” Ghan had to believe she was talking about him too. “We truly won’t know until the mask is in our hands, and...perhaps we’ll get lucky and the Three will send us a sign of some sort.”

“It’s late,” Link pointed out, though how he could tell that when there weren’t even stars above to mark time, Ghan didn’t know. “You all should go to bed, I’ll take first watch.”  

Zelda narrowed her eyes at Link. “It better only be the first one, and not all of them.”

Link rolled his eyes, and perhaps Ghan felt a brief pang of envy at the two of them. “It will, I’ll wake his majesty up in two hours.

“You’d better,” Ghan warned. His fingers twitched, and Ghan realized bemusedly he was trying to summon blankets and pillows again. Only he didn’t have any to summon. He settled in close to the fire an did his best to fall asleep.

-

Link stood in a misty field, they could see what looked like a castle in the distance, but could make out no more detail than that.

A rattling thump made their ears twitch and when Link whirled around it was to see a Stal standing across from them, wearing the remains of a green tunic and holding a rusty sword. Which it then pointed at them. “It is good we finally meet,” it was speaking, but Link couldn’t even see its mouth moving—not that any of the other Stals they’d encountered had ever spoken before.

They frowned at it, as far as weird dreams went, this one was fairly out there, Link had to admit.

“This is not truly a dream,” the Stal replied. “You are simply caught in the liminal space between waking and dreaming, and from here I may reach you.” A second sword appeared in its hand, which it tossed to Link.

They caught it, but let it hang at their side. They didn’t even know who this was and yet they wanted to fight? They would rather not, if it was all the same to the Stal—it was easy enough to hazard it could read their thoughts, if it replied to the last one.

“Yes.” It didn’t have a face, but Link could tell it was smiling. “I can ‘hear’ your thoughts, as it were, we are in your head, so it’s not as if that is hard to do.” A fair point. “And I wish to see what skills you have, Hero, that I might know what I need to teach you.”

Teach? For what?

It raised it’s sword into an attack position. “To defeat Ganondorf, King of Evil.”

Chapter 16: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in for Memory

Disturbed by the possibly-not-a-dream, Link happily volunteered to go look for breakfast. It made sense, they were the one with the most experience hunting and foraging, after all.

They took the bag after the King emptied out all the clothes and jewelry as well as the bow and arrows they’d gotten yesterday, and began to head back towards the little copse of woods that had gotten them dinner last night. Only a few steps away from the camp though and Midna’s small form came racing towards them.

Link felt their raised eyebrows were question enough.

“I don't want to stay in camp with those two glaring at each other, what’s their deal anyways?” She vanished into their shadow—a sensation that made Link shiver violently.

“Been engaged for five years, and he hid something important from her for a good chunk of it,” Link answered. Explanation enough, they figure.

“That’d do it,” Midna agreed. Her disembodied voice was still a little disturbing. “Lucky them, loving and hating someone isn’t all that different.” Link wasn’t sure they wanted to know why Midna thought that, or believed it. “Something’s up with you too,” Midna continued. “I can tell.”

A shrug. “Had a weird dream.”

Midna was quiet for a few seconds. Which was good because it meant Link could sneak up a tree and steal some eggs from a bird’s nest. “No,” Midna replied after Link’d climbed down. “Something about you is different from even last night.”

Huh. It was usually changes in clothes and hair that set Link into what he was for others, but it wasn’t as if they could change that as much now. “I’m not a guy anymore,” they eventually answered.

“Oh,” Minda said. “We usually change ourselves with magic...but I don’t think I’ve seen you use any since we met,” she sounded curious.

Wouldn’t that be nice, a little magic and the right symbol and everyone would just know. If only. Link shrugged again. “Can’t make it myself, can sense it and use it if it’s in something though.”

“Huh,” Midna sounded a little baffled by that fact. But left Link in peace as they continued to search for food.

-

The silence annoyed Zelda to no end, something in her desperately wishing to fill it. Her only choices in that regard, however, were talking to herself, or to King Ghananorv. Neither of which she considered good options.

Maybe she should pray, silence never seemed to bother her then. But when she closed her eyes and tried to think of a prayer, all she could remember was the Temple: that eerie story Midna claimed was false, the way the crowd turned on them so easily once Midna had appeared. The fact that Zelda had been called a demon. She shivered.

Warmth spread over her shoulders, and touching them she found the sash King Ghananorv had been wearing on Din’s Day spread across them. It still smelled of fire and him, and she hated how it made her want to curl up against him, as if nothing had happened. The King himself settled back down into his spot across the fire, stoking the flames and collecting the embers so they could cook on them when Link came back. “Why?” Zelda did her best not to sound too suspicious.

“You looked cold,” he answered. “And it wasn’t as if I was using it.” Carefully he tucked his crown away into the remainder of their old clothes.

“How can you be so calm, about all of this?” She flung an arm out as if to encompass everything.

Copper eyes stared at her for a long moment. “I certainly don’t feel calm, Princess. I’m just good at hiding it, saving it for the ones who actually deserve my anger. Neither you nor Link fall into that category, though the past might convince you it does.”

His words weren’t cutting in the least, which somehow made it worse. “There are many who’d be mad at me for what I’ve done so far,” she admitted quietly.

“I am not in the habit of blaming others for what I have done, for all that Hylians still seem to heap all their ills on my people, if not as frequently as in the past.” Again, there was no judgement or anger, only resignation. “So being called ‘demon’ by strangers wasn’t disturbing, at least they were being honest about their hate.”

“I’ve been told all my life,” Zelda hunched into herself more. “That I was chosen to bear the blessings of a Goddess, and to be called ‘demon’...” A shudder. “I feel as if I’ve failed the one thing that wasn’t even an option to fail.” She clenched her right fist, the empty golden triangles seeming to taunt her. “Link has earned their piece, you have yours, so why have I not received mine?” She sounded mournful, and hated herself more for it.

King Ghananorv shrugged. “Courage is easy to prove, Power easy to receive...I got it on my eighteenth birthday, as proof that I’d passed the Trials of Kingship.” Three years then, he’d kept it from her, well over half the time they’d known each other. “But one could argue that Wisdom is hard to gain. No one suddenly wakes up wise, it is the struggle of a lifetime.”

His words somehow comforted, and made her feel worse at the same time. “The last Zelda to hold Wisdom gained it when she was ten, and...and Link and I are supposed to stop a great evil, if the vision I got when I was thirteen is right.” It felt strange telling him about it, when she’d told so few. “How am I supposed to do that when I don’t have my piece?”

“What makes you think you need it to stop this ‘evil?’” He asked. 

“Because that’s how it always goes!” She bursts. “The Triforce awakens, evil comes, and the ones touched by Courage and Wisdom defeat Evil and save Hyrule.”

He didn’t say anything for what felt like an eternity. She was half afraid he would ask what was to become of the one who bore Power then. “This isn’t the past, Zelda, or a story. And I will not allow myself to be shoved into the role of ‘evil king’ as your people have done to our last King, even if he was one. If I become fa’Gadumire it will be to fight back Zant and those others that follow him, nothing more.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Perhaps...it is the Triforce that brings evil with it, Zelda, and you should be grateful, then, that you have not received your piece. For that means the evil might not come at all.”

“How can you say that?!” Horror filled her voice. “You call one of the Goddesses your mother, and yet say their greatest gift to us is what causes the evil it’s supposed to help defeat?”

A shrug, as if he hadn’t just committed blasphemy. “The Goddesses made ‘blins, and disease, and all other ills we encounter, why should the Triforce be considered ‘good’ just because they made it?”

She hated that that made sense. It shouldn’t. What the Goddesses made was good, and what they hadn’t...then who had made them? Certainly not Calamity-Demise, for at least in that regard Midna’s story lined up with Hyrule’s: that he only wanted to consume, not create. “How...how much of her story do you think is true?”

“Does it matter? We have no way of corroborating really. It’s from a period of time when we Gerudo weren’t even in Hyrule according to our own story. Perhaps your Sheikah might know more, but it’s not as if we could ask any of them.” He stared into the fire. “The only way we could know for sure would be to...remake? this Majora, and we don’t exactly know if that’s a good idea or not.”

No, Zelda wanted to believe if there was another sister to the Three, she would be as they were. But even in Midna’s telling she seemed...less kind. Something niggled at the back of Zelda’s mind, as if she knew the answer somehow, but every time she tried to reach for it it slipped away from her.

Distracting her from that was Link and Midna’s return.

Wonderful, more squirrel, at least there were also eggs and berries, though with nothing to cook them in the eggs would be difficult—or so Zelda had to suppose from what she’d read.

Once the food was ready though, Zelda still dug in, knowing she couldn’t be choosy, and that who knew when they’d eat next.

“Did a little scouting while I was out, didn’t see anything except a road going south a little ways away, and west seems to become sandy, but I didn’t see a river or lake. Creepy how empty everything feels.”

King Ghananorv looked up at the moon that still leered down at them. Zelda refused to do more than glance, afraid of what she might see. “Perhaps it’s because it’s this ‘moon season.’ I wouldn’t want to spend more time than I had too with that staring down at me.”

Zelda had to agree. “Are we still planning on going west then?”

“I want to,” the King answered. “I still want to meet these pirates.”

Link shrugged, and Midna’s voice floated from their shadow. “I don’t care where we go, so long as it gets us closer to helping Majora.” 

A sigh left Zelda, feeling, not quite outnumbered, but as if she strangely didn’t have a choice. “Then we should get going while there’s still daylight.” If yesterday was any indication there would be another eclipse at noon, and she would love nothing more than to find a place to hole up for the duration of it.

-

Of all the places Midna thought she would ever end up, her people’s ancestral home was never an option. She’d thought it gone, just like everyone else. Lost to the Mad God.

But even if it was the same place, could she even call it home? How much had it changed since her people were last here? She certainly didn’t recall any descriptions of Termina including the town they’d been in before she got them all run out—something she still wasn’t ashamed of.

If they ever stumbled across the Valley of Dance would she know it? Was there any signs that her people had ever been here at all, or had it all been destroyed and repurposed by the humans and other sentients who remained?

She was at least more than grateful these Hyruleans were at least somewhat on her side—enough to let her travel with them, though she hoped that when they found the mask they’d let her free Majora…

Hope was a strange thing, only a few days ago she’d lived in the same world she always had, planning her coronation and the consorts she’d pick from the other tribes, praying to the same ‘dead’ Goddess as they all did. Getting used to the Wolf living inside her, the guard who had protected the current Royal for hundreds of years.

Now she had been in both the lands her people had once called home, seen the sun—and hated it—and learned that her Lady was not as lost as they had all thought. And to bring her back might mean an end to their problems with the Mad God. She would certainly not want to be there when Majora called Him to task over their son.

It was almost too much for her mind to make sense of, thankfully she didn’t have to do things like look where she was going, or pay attention to her surroundings; the benefits of traveling by shadow.

She needed to do this, now that she knew it was an option. So many wrongs could be fixed, least of all her own people's imprisonment. Perhaps Majora would be kind and make them a new world, where they could finally flourish instead of survive.

Despite not actually moving herself, she could still sense when the King was moving and when he wasn’t. And she realized that he had been stopped for a while now. Manifesting her eyes she looked around to see more sand, and beyond it a huge body of water. An ocean, if she had to guess, though unlike the one of darkness she was used to.

Half-manifesting, which thankfully didn’t hurt at all, she floated in front of all three of them. “What? Haven’t any of you seen an ocean before?” She wanted to point out they didn’t have time to sightsee, but held her tongue on that.

“No,” Zelda finally answered. “We haven’t.”

Oh.

She retreated back into the King's shadow to let them have their moment, as much as she might want them to press on. Perhaps wishing, a little, that she could feel the same awe they did—she certainly hadn’t had time to feel awe upon setting foot in Hyrule, or even here. If she had known this was Termina right away, would she have felt as they did now?

The King moved, getting closer to the shoreline, the water advancing and retreating, around them the world began to grow dark as the sun was eclipsed again—that was what they’d called it, she was certain. He didn’t quite seem to know what to do, giving a start when the water rushed over his shoes—and shadow, which was a strange sensation. He crouched down as the water retreated.

“Don’t try to drink the water,” Midna said. Trying to spare him that experience at least.

He made a questioning sound.

“There’s salt in the water here,” she spoke louder so that Link and Zelda might hear her too. “Too much for your body to handle, so if you drink any it’ll just make you thirstier, and kill you eventually.” Or so the tales went; supposedly the same sort of thing happened with the dark ocean, but she’d never tried to drink any.

Despite her warning, Link scooped up a handful of water and drank it. Making a face of regret seconds later. “Told you,” Midna said tartly.

“We should be finding somewhere to lay low,” Zelda spoke up. “We don’t know what else might come out when it’s dark, and we’re too exposed here.” She squinted across the water, as if that might reveal something.

The sunlight grew dimmer and dimmer, and Midna decided to risk coming out. It felt a bit like sitting too close to a fire, but she could endure it. Flying up into the air she looked around. Water, water, and perhaps something that looked like it might be an island—if one too far to reach—to the west. East was where they’d come, south looked like more sand, and forest, but to the north…

“I think I see a building of some sort, not that far away,” she called down to them. Flying back down she pointed in the general direction. “Shouldn’t be too hard to miss.”

“Thank you, Midna,” Zelda gave a smile as they began walking.

Midna floated back to the King, giving him a curious look. “So if that Triforce thing you have gives you all this magic, why don’t you use it?” She asked. “You could be flying us all there easily.”

The King shrugged. “I could,” he allowed. “But I don’t see why magic should be the solution to everything. I have two legs that work perfectly well, and I’m not tired. I have Power, but I don’t like relying on it unless I have to.” Which earned him a surprised look from Zelda, that he didn’t seem to notice. Midna half-wondered if playing matchmaker, of a sorts, might help her get what she wanted.

“We have to rely on magic for almost everything,” she said with a shrug. “Our sun,” she glanced up at the one rapidly disappearing behind the moon. “Doesn’t give enough light to grow things. The water we do have is full of this strange darkness that we can’t drink. The Sages who sent us there likely meant for it all to kill us, but we’d already survived so much, that we weren’t about to let that happen.”

“An admirable mindset,” the King replied. “I think had we known what had happened, we would have tried to free you,” he said it almost quietly, as if he didn’t really want her to hear.

“No use thinking of what could be changed in the past,” Midna did her best to keep her tone from being chastising. What was the point? There were old stories about stones that let one travel into the past, but she doubted any remained. The King before Midna had told her after she’d won the Trials, that the royal treasury owned an item made from that very rock, but that no one knew how to use it. She was half-sure he was lying, but now couldn’t prove it at all.

Ahead of them Link gave a whistle. It was still a distance away, but there was indeed the building Midna had spotted, now alright with torches and braziers from the looks of it.

“Do you think they’ll want us to wear masks?” Zelda asked as they got closer.

“I hope not, I don’t like mine,” Link replied.

The King narrowed his eyes at the other man. “Then why did you take it?”

A shrug. “I’m more of a pig than you are.” They looked hesitant for a moment, before continuing. “Anyways, I had a feeling it would be better if I took it than anyone else.” Another shrug.

It was clear the King wanted to ask more questions about that. Before he could, the sound of sand crunching reached Midna’s ears. She vanished into the King’s shadow just in case. A tall, wiry woman, with brown skin and red hair came round the dune—Minda was sure Link was relieved she wasn’t wearing a mask. Midna personally considered the clothes she wore to be modest, but she was sure the humans here considered it indecent.

The woman narrowed her gold eyes, and pointed her trident at them. “Who are you?”

The King jolted, as if surprised. He stepped forward, and perhaps excepting the difference in height and clothes, they could’ve been family. The women looked just as surprised to see him. “I am Ghananorv fa’Dragahmire, Sister.” Strange that Midna could understand he was speaking a different language, yet still understand him completely—nevermind that she could hear his name and what it meant. “We would seek shelter with you, if the people are welcoming.”

“Humph.” The woman at least stopped pointing her trident at them. “Your accent is terrible, but you’re handsome enough to make up for it.” She eyed Link and Zelda. “Which one’s your partner, voe, and do they share?”

Midna was trying very hard not to laugh. Zelda sputtered, Link made a dry rasping sound that might’ve been a laugh, and the King appeared to be blushing.

Chapter 17: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in for Memory

Ghan had perhaps hoped that the pirates the Salesman had mentioned were the same seafaring folk his own History. But to see one of them in the flesh was something else entirely, nevermind her critiquing his accent. She was the one who sounded strange to him, even if he was too tactful to say such a thing.

“The purple eyed one,” they were violet, but Sa’suresh didn’t have violet—nevermind that he knew he could use the Hylian word and she would understand him just fine. “And I do not think she will share.” Well Ghan might hope she’d share with one person, but that was beyond the point.

The woman looked at him strangely. “They’re both blue eyed, voe, and it’s icfnu not...whatever you said. How did your mother teach you?” She waved a hand as if to ward off his mounting anger. “But I guess it matters not if they won’t share. Best come with me, Neikaeki will want to meet you, poor Sa’semrab or no.” Wind over water... well, if they had no desert, then it made sense that their language would have a different name. Though they had sand, clearly.

Taking a deep breath, Ghan did his best to put aside his anger, it wouldn’t help him here. Not when both his own thoughts and her words were the same, just from different perspectives. As they followed her, Link patted his arm consolingly. “Just wait until they try to understand Zelda or I," they pointed out.

Ghan snorted. “Yes, but you’re not native speakers, like I am.” If one could claim that. Would these people believe he was a descendant of the ones who left? Did they even remember that event had occurred, or did their own History tell it differently?

They reached the gates, and their guard, who’d never given her name Ghan realized—he felt vaguely insulted—called up to the women minding the wall above. They spoke almost too quickly for Ghan to follow, words flowing like water might. He understood enough that when they all laughed, he knew they were laughing about him. Something he was prideful enough to hate.

But they were allowed in, with no further challenge and Ghan looked around greedily as they entered the fortress proper.

Vai, and who he assumed were voe, bustle about, most of them working to offload from the three ships that were docked inside the fortress, a large steel grate sunk into the water preventing them from leaving. They all got brief looks, but otherwise they seemed focused on working. Though Ghan could feel a...tenseness in the air, as if something might happen at any second if they weren’t careful.

Their guide led them through a door, down hallways decorated with tapestries and painted sailcloth, almost reminding him of what he’d seen in the Hylian castle. There were more vai here, some as guards, some as servants. Ghan didn’t see any children, but supposed they were tucked away safe somewhere else.

Into a room with a throne at the far end, on one wall there was a large glass box filled with water, and fish, and Ghan had never seen a decoration so strange in his life.

The vai on the throne wore green sirwal and choli—what color then do their children wear? He wondered—and she rose from her slouch at the sight of them, golden eyes curious. “Who are these, Ivaemi?”

The guard/guide bowed. “Strange travelers I found heading our way, Neikaeki. The one who looks voe speaks Sa’semrab, if terribly.”

Neikaeki looked them over. “Are you from the colony? If so, why didn’t you come on the ships?”

“I do not know anything about a colony. I and my traveling companions come from much further away, we believe.” More Gerudo? Across the ocean perhaps? He almost wanted to ask to travel there, to meet the rest of his distant kin. But as much as he wanted to, there were more important matters first. “We are looking for a mask.”

“Masks are Clock Town’s specialty,” despite her dismissive tone, her body tensed at his mention of a mask. Did they possibly know more? How could he convince them to speak of it?

Zelda stepped forward. “Unfortunately, we were...run out of town. They decided we were demons, and we didn’t exactly want to die.”

Both vai laughed. “Sounds about right, the superstitious bastards,” Neikaeki replied. “Well, you two might certainly look strange, but we’re not about to try and kill you, if you were worried about that, at least, not unless you try to pull something over on us.” She waved her hand, as if she hadn’t just threatened them. “We can speak more of that later, I wish to know what sort of Samedo you are, to not be from here, or a colonial.”

“That may take more time than you might be willing to afford,” Ghan replied. Even as he felt a strange sort of eagerness to tell her. Were these Samedo as curious to know what had happened to their kin who had left, as Ghan was to know more about them?

“Ivaemi, have food and cushions brought. And Ronefa, if there are more Samedo it should be added to the Chronicle.”

Ivaemi looked as if she might protest, but bowed and vanished through another door.

Neikaeki seemed content not to speak, the next few minutes feeling awkwardly silent, until more vai—why not voe too like the Gerudo did?—entered, then she began to direct them into setting up a seating area by the strange glass box. An elderly Ger-Samedo vai wearing glasses took a seat, carefully setting a large book in front of her before opening her bag and pulling out other things. Ghan’s brain couldn’t quite make sense of her, she was doing voe work, yet was dressed as he considered vai would. Were they truly that different from what he knew?

Neikaeki sat, and began to pour out what looked and smelled like turmeric tea. Despite wanting to trust them, Ghan sent out a brief probe of magic to see if the food and drink they were being served was poisoned in any fashion.

The elderly vai, Ronefa if he had to guess, finished whatever set up she had to do, setting the book onto the board she’d put on her lap, and opening it up, thumbing through the pages until she reached the first blank one. Ghan was tempted to take the book from her, to read through the history of a people he apparently knew little about.

“Your story then, and of your people, so that we might solve this mystery, yes?” Neikaeki prompted.

-

It was just as agonizing to hear it the second time in a span of a week, as it had been the first time. Though Zelda didn’t seek comfort from the King this time, but Link. Weaving her hand with theirs under the table and squeezing tightly.

Link squeezed back, but she didn’t miss the surprised look on their face at her action. They were friends, why wouldn’t she seek their comfort? They’d been happy to provide it the other night when they’d first gotten here. Granted, sometimes trying to understand Link seemed impossible. One handed she ate, only taking enough sips of tea to be polite.

By the end, the King looked tired, but hopeful. The Samedo scribe finished writing only a few seconds later. Did she use a sort of shorthand perhaps? Was there a record that could be understood by anyone, or would you always need a translator to read these Chronicles?

“Fascinating,” the scribe said as she sprinkled sand over her ink. Her attention turned to Neikaeki. “I would have to get out the right book, but I believe he’s telling the truth. My predecessor often joked that the last act of the goddesses was a kidnapping.”

Neikaeki raised her eyebrows over the rim of her cup. “We are better off without them if that truly was their last act."

Zelda bit her tongue, not wanting to anger them, nor be disbelieving of their claim. Both the humans of Clock Town and Midna’s stories said the Goddesses had left Termina, that the Samedo agreed should prove that it was true to an extent. The Golden Three left Termina to its fate, and made Hyrule for themselves—only to leave it as well after a fashion.

She didn’t exactly need to wonder what it might be like to live in a world where you thought those that created you had abandoned you, but that didn’t mean she liked it. “Will you help us find our mask then?” She surprised herself by speaking up. “To be able to return to our own peoples, especially when they need our help, would be a great relief.”

Neikaeki shrugged. “As I said, masks are the specialty of Clock Town, though sometimes I’ve heard, there are masks to be found further east in the ruins.” Zelda could tell she was lying somehow in there, but not precisely about what.

“We’re not certain, but we do have evidence to believe it is a mask from the people who call themselves the Twili, does that help?”

The scribe bit her lip. “Not really,” she answered before Neikaeki could. “Not many of their relics survived, and Clock Town is superstitious enough, that even their black market dealer won’t take a thing if he knows it’s Twili in origin.” A shrug. “And those sorts of things don’t really make it out this far west. Nevermind that we haven’t finished mapping the world as far as we can tell, who knows if the land we found across the ocean is just the other side of the one we currently live on or is a wholly separate mass.”

“Not exactly the sort of questions you need to bother yourselves over,” Neikaeki finally spoke. “It would be far faster, at the moment, to just travel east from here, if you wished to get to the old ruins. Rather than sailing a week to land, only to travel who knows how far.”

Of course, traveling back the way they came meant going by Clock Town again. Though Zelda supposed they could travel far enough north or sound to avoid it completely.

Neikaeki continued. “You’re welcome to stay if you wish, I’m sure Ronefa here would like that, and when you leave we’ll happily outfit you with whatever you might wish, for a price.” No, Zelda supposed they wouldn’t do it out of the goodness of their hearts. Granted that would be better than leaving with basically nothing.

“A map and food would definitely be appreciated." Link said, surprising Zelda some. Considering they’d appeared fine with not participating at all in the conversation.

“Easy enough,” Neikaeki replied. “I insist you at least stay the night and leave in the morning. I have other duties to attend to, but you may relax here as long as you like. Ronefa can show you to some empty rooms and where the dining hall is.” She rose and departed without another word.

“This place certainly feels less creepy than Clock Town did,” Link points out.

The King snorted. “A rousing endorsement.” He turned his attention back to Ronefa, who was packing away her writing utensils. “I was hoping I might be able to look at your Chronicle, I want to know more about the people we came from.”

“I wish to see it too,” Zelda found herself speaking up without thought. She found herself doubting it would be unbiased, but she wanted to know more about the history of this place.

The both of them looked at Link, who shook their head. “I want to see the armory, there’s got to be far better weapons there than the ones we scavenged off the Lizals.” Fair enough, Zelda thought.

“Which can be arranged,“ Ronefa spoke up. Settling her bag on her shoulder again she went to a nearby guard, who followed her back to the table. “This is Kanir, she’ll show you to the armory. If you two would follow me, I need to put this book back in the archive anyways.”

More hallways, and Zelda had to wonder if the scenes depicted on the tapestries and paintings were supposed to be recreations of historical events, or if they were straight from the creator’s imagination. Some of them certainly seemed fantastical enough to be so: populated with creatures Zelda had never seen before, or even read of—though perhaps they existed here, but not in Hyrule.

Finally they passed through a door, and Zelda found herself feeling more at home than she’d experienced yet, even as she felt a chill race down her spine, the room appearing to be a library. She ran her finger gently over the spines, the magic of the nut they'd eaten translating the titles for her. Beasts of the Ocean, Proper Knots and Their Uses, On Weaving. 

“If you have any questions, just call out, and I’ll hear you,” Ronefa said. Carefully taking the book out of her bag, she moved deeper into the room, the King following her.

“For supposed pirates, they don’t seem very piratey,” Midna’s voice floated from nowhere, making Zelda nearly jump out of her skin.

She looked down to see red eyes appear in her shadow, crinkling with silent laughter. “When did you move into my shadow?” she hissed. Not that she was sure why Midna had done it, perhaps she’d grown bored with the King.

“When you came into the room,” Midna answered plainly. Oh, that must have been the chill Zelda had felt. “Granted, I’ve not had much experience, with pirates or anything of the sort.”

Zelda frowned at the books. “Surely you have people who try to take more than their share, or steal from others.” It sounded almost too good to be true to have some place without human greed. Even Hyrule, both past and present, wasn’t immune to such things. It was the greed of all sentients that had forced the Sages to seal the Triforce away. Zelda had to wonder why the Goddesses gave it to them, when it seemed like such an awful trait.

Minda pulled herself out of Zelda’s shadow, making Zelda shiver again, hovering next to her. “Every once in a while, but they’re punished harshly. Our world only just makes enough for us to eat, and we rely on magic for almost everything else.” She ran a hand over a black portion of skin, and Zelda let out a little gasp as it shifted and changed. “Even how we clothe ourselves is really just magic.”

The idea of clothes made only of magic fascinated Zelda, especially considering she’d heard of putting magic into fabric and metal only a few years ago and had yet to learn how to do it herself.

“Zant was wearing clothes,” Zelda found herself saying. Granted Midna had said his magical abilities weren’t what they should have been. “So clearly you make some.” Still to have so much magic in the world must be an interesting experience, at least to Zelda who’d grown up with relatively little.

“We do weave some clothes, especially for children who can’t use their magic yet. But for adults something will be worn until it’s tatters, so it might get passed down through many generations, if it’s taken well care of.” Midna looked down at her own body. “I was wearing the royal cloak and skirt when Zant transformed me, I hope they haven’t been destroyed.”

There was a whisper of fabric, and Zelda looked up to see Ronefa at the other end of the row of bookshelves, eyes wide behind her glasses as she stared at Midna.

Zelda’s heart sank. “Please, please, don’t run us out. I can promise we’ll leave tomorrow and barely take anything.” She’d have to do her best to convince Link and the King of it, but she could.

“...Oh.” Ronefa shook her head. “I, no, I’m not going to tell people and get you run out. Actually quite the opposite.” Zelda blinked in surprise, but Ronefa continued before she could say anything. “I was actually hoping…” She turned her attention fully to Midna. “Would you help us, please?”

Notes:

A short chapter, but I'll make it up to you, I promise.

Chapter 18: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in for Memory

Notes:

Uh, not quite sure how to CW this one, but if things surrounding sleep deprivation bother you, you might want to skim the first part.

Link followed a very tense Ronefa as she led them deeper into the Fortress; tense in their own way, if perhaps for different reasons. After all they didn’t know what this ‘curse’ she’d spoken of was, or if it might be able to jump from one person to another if you tried to lift it. And in this sort of case, Link was helpless, unless they somehow suddenly got magical powers. 

They trusted the King, to a point, but they were going to have to trust him, and Minda, completely to look after Zelda. Something Link wasn’t exactly fond of.

Soon they reached a set of stairs leading downwards, flanked by two guards. Who both gave Ronefa strange looks. “What’s all this then, Ronefa?”

“I’m...taking them down to the cells, Neikaeki thought they might be able to help us with our situation, considering they’re foreigners.” For such a mousy looking woman, she was surprisingly confident as she lied.

The guards looked at each other. “Why isn’t Neikaeki here herself?” One of them challenged.

Ronefa drew herself up a little taller. “She has to finish overseeing the unloading of the ships, we need to get them back on the ocean soon if we’re to get all the supplies we need for the winter. And she thought our guests would be more comfortable being accompanied by someone they were already familiar with instead of another stranger.” 

Much to Link’s amazement, this apparently convinced the guards, who shifted their tridents back to resting position and gestured for them to continue. Ronefa didn’t seem eager to wait around, heading down the stairs almost immediately.

It was far cooler down here than Link expected, and damp as well. Yet even so everything seemed well lit and dry enough—on par with the cells Link had seen when they’d still been at Hyrule Castle.

Snatches of singing, and a voice speaking, began to drift towards them as they headed further back. All of it sounding like nonsense and babbling. A shiver raced down Link’s spine, even as they felt the Triforce mark on their hand begin to tingle.

They stopped at the last cell, the talking and singing cutting off suddenly, and Link wasn’t the only one who stepped back at the stench. Ronefa looked apologetic. “We try to keep her clean, but it’s...exhausting being around her.”

The ‘she’ in question was sitting curled up in the middle of the cell, face buried between her knees, the only mostly clean part of the floor; everything else covered in blood and human refuse. She looked ill, even in the flickering torchlight, her brown skin sallow, and her hair lank.

Cupping his hands together, the King sent out a ball of light to better illuminate her, which didn’t make her look any better.

“Enegu?” Ronefa spoke gently. “I’ve brought people who I think can help you.” The woman in the cell barely reacted. “Can you show them your face?” There was fear in her voice, and Link could feel their own heart pick up as Enegu twitched and began to move.

Her face...her face was covered in a mask of some sort, if an ugly one. It seemed to be made of thick black metal bars, which took the shape of a face with a rictus grin. Her dark brown eyes were bloodshot, and the King’s light let them see as the skin and muscles around her eyes moved, as if she wanted to blink, but parts of the mask prevented it from happening.

“She’s...she’s been like this for two weeks now, she can’t blink, she can’t sleep , we’ve had to force food and drink into her to keep her at least alive. Please, help her.” Ronefa trembled.

Out of the King’s shadow, Midna appeared. “It’s a Never Sleep,” she declared. “Do you know who put it on her?”

Ronefa shook her head. “She came back from Clock Town wearing it, the dealer there will take some of our less savory goods and she’d gone to trade with him. By the time she got back to us, she was already having a hard time telling us what happened.” She looked at Midna, hopeful. “Never Sleep?”

“It’s…” Midna’ didn’t look uncomfortable, but she clearly didn’t like this situation. “It’s the first step in making one of the Living Dead. Like the name implies you put it on someone and they just, can’t fall asleep. It’s meant to stress the mind and body so that the subject has a harder time resisting the magic that is the next step.” She took a deep breath. “It’s supposed to be that only the person who puts it on you can take it off, but I’ll try.”

She floated through the cell bars with ease. Enegu barely even reacted to Midna’s presence, wide eyes staring straight ahead as if nothing had changed. She began to hum snatches of song off-key.

Midna bit the pad of her thumb, drawing blood, which she pressed against the mask. “I am Midna Ereni, Queen of the Twili, and I command you to release this woman.” There was a flash of dark light, but when it faded the mask was still on Enegu’s face. “No,” Midna muttered to herself. “That would’ve been too easy, wouldn’t it?”

Her hair sprung into action, seeming to cover the mask and Enegu’s face—Link glanced at Ronefa to see her tense even more, but didn’t move to try and stop Midna. A wordless shout came from Midna, followed by dark light again, this time, however, it was somehow golden as well.

Yet it seemed to do nothing, the Never sleep still on Enegu’s face.

Midna’s shoulders sagged, and she turned around. “I almost had it...I just...don’t think I have enough power like this, fucking Zant.”

“Open the door,” the King told Ronefa.

Who jumped. “I...don’t have the key.” Had she known Minda would be able to get in on her own? Or had she truly been flying by the seat of her pants that a key had never occurred to her?

The King sighed, but said nothing in reply. Instead he walked to the door and rested his hand over the locking mechanism. His hand obtained its own golden glow for a moment, and when he pulled it away the door swung open, the lock melted. Show off.

He stepped in, uncaring of the filth. “If it is power you need, then I will gladly give it.” He told Midna, holding out his hand.

“Thank you.” Her hand looked so very tiny in his own.

Her hair obscured Enegu’s face again. And again the dark light, if more golden with odd bits of copper. The King began to sing, the Song of Healing, to Link’s surprise. Next to them, Zelda gave a little start herself. And seemingly without thought, opened her mouth to join in.

Zelda’s touch at the table earlier had been a surprise, but now Link found themselves returning the gesture, his left hand growing warm as he laced it with Zelda’s right.

Just like the other day with the gate, an unholy metallic screech filled the air, leaving Link’s ears ringing as the light faded away.

This time, however, when Midna’s hair moved it was to reveal Enegu’s face was finally bare. Ronefa gave a relieved cry, and rushed in, scooping up the other woman, and murmuring to her. “Thank you,” she was crying now as she looked at them. “I’ll make sure you get anything you want, thank you, thank you.” She rushed out, leaving them to their own devices.

“Are, are you both okay?” Zelda asked the both of them a they stepped out of the cell.

The King looked surprised, in a good way, as he answered. “I am fine.”

“I’ll be fine,” Minda chirped. Her hair still held the Never Sleep, and it hardly looked menacing at all anymore. Not something Link would want to touch, but it looked more like a decoration now than an instrument of torture.

“What are you going to do with it?” Link asked.

Midna stared down at it, one of her small hands brushing against the metal. “Part of me wishes to keep it, for later, but…” She flexed, golden and dark light flaring once more, and the mask broke into pieces, the metal flying everywhere. Link flinched as some of the pieces hit them. “Now it can’t be used ever again.”

“Could it be remade?” Zelda asked cautiously as they headed upstairs.

“No,” Midna answered. “Even we Twili have lost the knowledge of how to make it, and I doubt any records here remain, it could perhaps be the only good thing the humans here did out of fear.”

-

Another dream, and the Stal again. Except this time when he tossed the sword at Link, they didn’t catch it. They were pretty sure if the Stal had eyebrows, they would be raised. “You cannot refuse destiny.”

King Ghananorv hasn’t done anything, and I’m not going to kill an innocent man. Link thought sharply. Hidden things, sure, but don’t anything actively, intentionally, evil, no. And until he did, Link didn’t see why he had to be killed.

“You’re lucky then, because I’ve seen the evils he’s done first hand, and that I got the chance to fix it all before it happened was worth this.” He gestured to himself.

Link blinked. What did happen to you? As far as they knew from Zelda’s various mutterings to herself on the topic, the Hero that had helped stop the war six hundred years ago had vanished without a trace, taking the Ocarina of Time with him.

“I ran like Princess Zelda told me too, back to the Lost Woods, trusting that I was still welcome and that it’s natural magics would hide me better than anything else. I misjudged, however, I didn’t have Navi, my fairy companion anymore, and I got lost. Only I had a bit more luck at least, for I didn’t turn into a skull kid, I...fell through something, and ended up in the Twili realm. The king at the time welcomed me, and agreed to keep the Ocarina for safekeeping, so long as I swore myself in service to the royals, even beyond death. For I was not likely to make it back to Hyrule, or pass on my knowledge to someone who might be worthy.”

So what happens when you do pass on your knowledge? Knowledge which this Stal clearly wanted to impart to Link, whether they wanted it or not.

The Stal shrugged. “If the Goddesses are kind, I shall pass on to whatever the afterlife might be.”

Link frowned for a moment. But...you’re the wolf that protects Midna, right?

“I am,” the Stal agreed. “As I have protected all the Kings and Queen of the Twili for hundreds of years now.”

But if you pass on who will protect her then? Link asked.

The Stal shifted back, as if surprised. “As the next Hero it is your responsibility to protect those who seek to fix the wrongs of the past.”

So you’re just going to leave her? That’s poor behavior for a guard. Link chastised. I swore myself into Zelda’s service, and I’m not about to leave that service just because someone gives me the chance to. You shouldn’t have made the deal if you didn’t want to live with the terms. Link liked Midna, but they couldn’t be responsible for her, Zelda, and the King.

As always, the Stal’s face was impassive. But he let out an impressive growl and lunged at Link. Link raised their sword to block, but the Stal didn’t actually attack, instead grabbing lInk’s face, bony fingers digging in and Link’s mind was filled with memories not his own.

A hook-nosed giant of a Gerudo, who stood at the top of a tall tower, watching as Hyrule fell to pieces around him, face satisfied, even as he turned to face him. Link tightening his grip on the Master Sword.

…

A fire haired giant with black skin loomed above Link, his sword bigger than Link himself. The ground shook as he stepped closer, and his roar of challenge sounded like the world’s destruction. Link drew the Master Sword and raised it high above his head.

…

A wiry Gerudo man used the shaft of a trident to block Link’s attack. And when the trident shattered, he roared , magic roiling underneath his skin. Only for it all to explode outwards, reshaping the man into a monsterous boar, that lowered it’s head and charged.

…

“That,” the Stal said. “Is who you face. Calamity-Demise, and it matters not if it’s now, or later, but he will fall to evil as he always has. And it will be the job of you and Zelda, as always, to stop him. “Better to do it here, where the influence of Calamity and Malice is lesser, than to return to Hyrule with him in tow.”

Link shook their head, something inside them discomfited and unhappy with being shoved back into being a man.  No, they snapped. He’s a bit of an asshole, but he’s not evil, he...he loves Zelda. Which didn’t mean everything was fixed, but it had to mean something. He wants me, too. Another twist, but at least this one didn’t make Link feel wrong.

“Possession is not love,” was the Stal’s response. “It’s always worse when he’s a con of a man, and not a mindless beast.”

Link shook their head again. No. I never wanted to be the Hero, never wanted the Triforce. Get out of my head!

Golden power exploded around them, and when it cleared the Stal was gone. Only the practice sword he’d tossed at Link remaining.

-

Ghan felt strangely...elated, even the morning after, by what had happened. He hadn’t lied to Midna when he said he didn’t see why magic should be the solution to everything. But that didn’t change the fact that he liked using magic, that it felt good to do so.

Especially with the mask. Something about it had felt familiar, or at least the magics inside it had felt familiar. Less complicated, for certain, than a spirit maze, but nothing about the mask had felt easy. A thought which made sense and yet didn’t.

He was certain, it wasn’t just the magic though that was making him feel so. Zelda had shown concern over him, had joined in on the breaking, Link too. It felt strangely like a promise.

Quite full from breakfast, everyone, including Midna, followed a pair of guards higher into the fortress. Meeting another pair of guards at a tower door. As one of the guards opened the door, an argument filtered out. “Again?” A vai’s voice asked.

“Yes, again, Enegu,” another replied patiently. The sort of patience only being a healer seemed to grant.

Stepping into the room revealed Enegu sitting up in bed, an indigo colored Zora woman next to her, trying to get her to drink the contents of a bowl. “You need to get your strength up before I’m comfortable giving you anything more solid than bread. And if I find out you’ve bullied anyone into getting you food you shouldn’t be eating, there will be consequences.”

Enegu glowered at this, but dutifully drank the contents of the bowl. She did brighten when she saw them by the door. “So you’re the ones I have to thank for my life, it seems. Which I’m certain will be a relief to Neikaeki, I don’t think my daughter is quite ready to lead the Samedo just yet.”

“This is to help you sleep better,” the Zora woman interrupted. She set a small vial on the table next to the bed. “Only a few drops in a liquid. I’ll be back in a few days and we’ll see about the food.” She bowed and left the room.

“I am also told,” Enegu settled her hands in her lap, rolling her shoulders back, as regal as any great leader. “That you are looking for a strange mask. I believe I might be able to help you in that endeavor, along with whatever supplies you might need for your travels, in thanks for your help.” Her dark brown eyes flicked up to Ghan. “And as a gesture of goodwill towards our lost kin, taken from us, with the hope that we might one day be reunited in full.”

Ghan gave a bow. “I hope we might, too, though I would correct that we left of our own free will, and were not taken.”

Enegu raised her eyebrows, but didn’t argue. Midna made a sound of impatience. “Reconnecting is all well and good, but the mask?”

Glancing behind him, Ghan could see Link trying to hold back laughter, while Zelda looked embarrassed, Midna didn't seem to care about speaking out. Enugu waved a hand, as if it were nothing. “The mask, then, if it is that important to you. A few weeks ago, I went to Clock Town to sell of some...good of questionable origin.

“That evening, as I was leaving town, I heard a commotion in the field. No on the Clock Town dares to leave the safety of the gates after sunset, not during Moon Season. But while we understand our moon has been cursed, we do not hold their same belief that it is the Calamity that once visited us and wrecked havoc before leaving. So I felt no fear as I rushed towards the sound, in case it was someone who might need help, or rescuing.

“I found a peculiar struggle that night in the field. A spindly red haired human wearing a strange magenta mask and a large bag on his back, struggled with what looked like a wizened child wearing a gaudy, brightly colored mask.” Midna stiffened at Enegu’s words. Gan himself was starting to doubt the Salesman’s word about the mask being stolen from him.

“The man tried to pry the mask from the child’s face, only for the child to let out a scream that chilled me to my core and froze me in place. I couldn't tell you what happened next, for it seemed my mind was as frozen as the rest of me, and when I became aware again, the man stood above me, rifling through his bag.

“He pulled out the metal mask and set it on my face, and I found myself being filled with energy, a blessing is what I thought it was at the time. ‘Run on home,’ he simpered. And I did, only to find when I got here that I could not take off the mask, could not sleep, could not even blink and it would have killed me, I think, if you had not come along and removed it. Ronefa said you said the same,” she looked at Midna.

Who shrugged. “Yes, with no one around to remove it or move you on to the next step. I’m, I’m glad I could help.” She sounded almost embarrassed, for a change, vanishing back into Ghan’s shadow a second later.

Enegu hardly seemed bothered. “That, then, is my tale. I hope it is of some use to you. Make a list of what you need and give it to Neikaeki, and she will see that you get it. You may go.”

-

Zelda was the last to leave the room, the three, well four, of them loitering in the hallway for a moment before she mustered the courage to speak. “So the Salesman was lying then. If Enegu’s story is true and the child really was wearing the mask.”

“I told you,” there was at least little gloating in Midna’s voice. “It’s our ceremonial mask, and we should be trying to free Majora, not hand her over to someone who likely doesn’t want her for good reasons.”

“I agree with Midna,” Link chimed in, surprising Zelda. The King didn’t agree one way or the other.

“She doesn’t sound like a... good Goddess, by your own account, Midna. What’s to say she doesn’t just smite us all in a rage and go on her merry way? We need to get back to Hyrule and save it.”

Midna reappeared, red eyes narrowed. “She’s not her mad consort, even separated as she is. She’ll help us, far more than that Salesman of yours ever could, if he even planned on honoring the bargain,” she pointed out. “But we still need to find the mask first.”

“Yes, but we’re still in the same position we started in,” the King finally spoke. “A quest, with no idea where to look.”

Zelda took a deep breath and began walking down the hall. “Then let’s see if we can change that.”

Chapter 19: Part 2: Those Who Figure Justice in For Memory

The mare Link had been given might not have been Epona, but she beat walking that was for certain. They were just surprised that the Samedo managed to find a horse that could hold the King, as mildly comical looking as it was—the horse being not quite as big as the black he’d had back in the desert. Zelda, meanwhile, seemed to ride her own horse with the grace and poise befitting a princess.

They all came to a brief stop as they reached the edge of the sprawling field that Clock Town occupied, it reminded Link of the Castle’s own field, though far less populated. They pulled out the map the Samedo had helpfully supplied, marking their future path in their mind. Up a bit north towards Snowhead—the Samedo had said Gorons lived there, but Link didn’t believe it. ‘Goron’ and ‘cold’  being two incompatible ideas to them.

The sound of hooves made Link’s ears twitch and they looked up from the map to see Zelda lead her horse right up to theirs. “How far do you think it is?” She looked at the far eastern part of the map, which had been given a name by Midna—Ikana, the Valley of Dance—but that the Samedo had only marked with a skull. A fact which seemed to both please and frustrate Midna.

“It took us about two days on foot to get from Clock Town to the Samedo fortress, and we’ve already halved that with horses,” the King answered, coming up on Link’s other side. It was not an...uncomfortable place to be at the moment. “I’d say another day or two at least.”

Zelda thankfully didn’t say anything biting in response, not that she’d seemed cross with the King since Clock Town, but it was clear things were still somewhat prickly. Link put the map away. “Eclipse is coming soon,” they pointed out. “Want to be tucked away before that happens.” The Samedo’s map also helpfully marked their hidey holes and safe houses for them to use, and there was one nearby where they could wait out the eclipse.

“Then let’s go,” Zelda said before kicking her horse into motion.

Link kicked their own horse after, leaving the King to catch up. Which he did with ease. “What do you think we’ll find there?” He asked Link as they rode.

All Link could do was shrug. The Samedo had claimed the place was cursed, a surprise for such...Goddess negligent people—granted they acknowledged magic with ease, so perhaps not that surprising. Midna thought with her along they could weather the worst of it, regardless of whether or not her people hadn’t set foot in the area for at least two thousand years.

“I just want this to be over,” Link finally spoke up, trying to sign slower to make up for the jostling of the horse at canter.

The King snorted. “In a few days you might get your wish, then the real work begins.”

Right, Zant and his fanatical Calamity-worshiping cult. Link hadn’t had any dreams last night involving the Stal, but they didn’t doubt it would make itself known again eventually.

Fighting Zant, at least, was a far more palatable prospect, than facing off against the King.

“The hardest part,” Midna’s voice floated up from the King’s shadow. “Will be breaking the bond between the Mad God and Zant, once we do that Zant will basically roll over, he’s something of a coward at heart.”

“And you loved him?” The King didn’t quite sound incredulous.

Her red-orange eyes appeared in his shadow, narrowing. “Far easier to cut off your own hand, or pluck out your eye, than to control the wants of a heart.”

Perhaps Link wouldn’t put the idea quite like that, but there was something to be said for the sentiment of it. Their life would be so much easier if they didn’t have to deal with their...frustrating attraction to the King, or the almost insidious draw to Zelda—which was almost worse in a way because they knew she would remain faithful to the King, despite his betrayal.

Thankfully they reached the small...shack really. But there was a trough for the horses and a place inside to light a fire—only one bed, but it wasn’t like they’d need it. No chairs, but the floor was comfortable enough for now.

Zelda practically snatched Link’s bag from them, pulling out the map again and spreading it out next to the fire. “We’re making good time,” she said, mostly to herself.

There was a bit of space at the bottom of the door, and Link could see it darken more and more, and outside they could hear the sounds of the animals quiet. They wondered what this world would be like without the moon looming over them for a portion of the year. Would it be more like Hyrule? Or just as empty as it was now?

“Glimmer for your thoughts?” Midna’s voice broke through Link’s musings.

They shrugged. “Thinking about what this place would be like without Moon season.”

“I guess I can’t speak for the rest of Termina, but Ikana was a place of dance and pleasure. The clans warred with each other, made alliances, joined into a new clan, or broke into numerous ones. The stories don’t really say what humans or the other sentients thought of us. But considering their reactions to us now, I would think it safe to say they feared us even then.” She shrugged. “We are kind, but we can also be cruel. Our Goddess is one of war, pleasure, and nightmares and we followed her path.” There was a mournful note to her voice, speaking of a past she’d never known. “We follow it still, though I wonder if our ancestors would recognize us.”

“That is the nature of people,” the King pointed out. “We change even when we don’t believe we have.”

Zelda made a sound of agreement, much to Link’s surprise. “Those who cannot adapt or change, either individually, or as a group, do not last long in the other scheme, though remnants of them might linger.”

“The Kokiri might argue that,” Link pointed out. Not that they thought the Kokiri would, but out of all the peoples of Hyrule, if one could call them that, Link was certain they hadn’t changed at all. They kept to the woods and rarely interacted with people, unless you were lucky, or unlucky, depending.

“An isolated case,” Zelda replied almost absently. “An exception that proves the rule. They survive because they made their part of the world fit them and kept it that way, nevermind that they keep to themselves. If there is a Forest Sage among them, they hardly come to the meetings of the Sages.”

The King’s eyebrows rise. “From what I know, those meetings hardly ever invited my mother, who most certainly is a Sage, so that is hardly a good argument.”

Minda’s laughter broke whatever tension might be brewing. “Good to know that some things never change.”

Zelda rolled her eyes, but the King snorted. They all fell into a sort of silence as Link broke out some food and a flask of water—they were grateful they didn’t have to go hunting again. Though it would be good to supplement what they had so it lasted longer also.

“What can we expect when we get back to Hyrule? ” Link found themselves asking as they chewed on some jerky.

Midna shrugged. “All of Hyrule is likely covered in Twilight, so finding allies won’t be easy. Part of the Twilight’s nature is to drain people, even us, though we’ve developed a tolerance for it, and magic does the rest. So unless they’re very lucky, most of the sentients are likely just...imprints of memories, all the rest taken away. But if we remove the Twilight they should return to normal, if it’s done quick enough.”

“How quickly?” Zelda sounded troubled, but the King looked just as much, it was their job to look after all their subjects, after all.

“I don’t know,” Minda answered. “It’s not like it happens to us anymore, and the texts that do talk about it are all academic and theory at this point.”

“Why didn’t that happen to us?”  Sure, Link had felt weak in the Twilight ball Zant had captured them in, but it hadn’t felt like he was being drained per se. Or perhaps that was how it was supposed to feel. All of this was certainly not the sort of stuff Link had ever bothered with before. 

Another shrug from Midna. “Maybe that Triforce of yours protected you, I don’t know. But certainly something we should keep an eye on. I know spells and sigils that will protect you if need be.” She sighed. “Hoping, of course, that the Mad God hasn’t just started to consume your world, like Zant intended.” She bared her teeth. “As if that would spare our own realm for long. Though why He hasn’t consumed Termina when He clearly could, is beyond me.”

“Perhaps the Giants both your tales speak of is preventing Calamity-Demise from doing so,” Zelda chimed in. “We’ve managed to hold it back since it first came to our own world, though I do worry that without us it will be much easier for it.” For some reason she shot a look at the King while she said this.

If the King understood it, he didn’t rise to whatever bait might have been laid. “If that is the case, even with the Twilight, Calamity-Demise might find the desert a hard nut to swallow. The Gerudo might be the only sentient  things there, but we are not the only ones who would fight.” He grinned at the thought.

“We still have to get there first,” Link pointed out. Even though they hadn’t wanted to focus on the choice yet to be made, perhaps they should. 

“We free Majora,” Midna said plainly. “Break the seal that holds her spirit in the Mask, and reunite it with her body on the moon.” She said it as if that were easy.

“A moon covered in Malice,” Zelda replied sharply. “I don’t know about you but I don’t have the Master Sword tucked away on my person, nor do we have the full Triforce, the only two things that could possibly clear us a path through the Malice, if the stories are to be believed.”

The King clicked his tongue. “Items of finesse that would make the job easier, yes. But we have knowledge and Power, and Courage, which should be more than enough to make up for their lack. We just need some place to start.”

Midna grinned. “Exactly, and Ikana should be that place, so long as no one wakes the Giants to stop us.”

“If the guardians created to protect this place try to stop us,” Link began, worrying their bottom lip. “Doesn’t that make us the evil ones?”  That was their job after all.

“No,” Midna replied sharply. “They grew corrupt and jealous because of a baby. They have no right to stop the reckoning that is coming, neither does the Mad God. Majora is part of the balance of the universe, one of the Five, and with her return things can finally start to be fixed.”

Quiet fell, broken by the King’s voice. “If your story is right.”

Midna looked incredulous. “‘If’, if? How can our story be wrong? We Twili are living proof that it is true!”

“The Gerudo and Hylians both have tales about the King who came before me. We both understood he was evil, but the reason he is considered so is different. To Hyrule his crime is that he invaded, killed their people, stole their goods, sided with the creatures considered evil monsters. To the Gerudo, his crime is that he was not a good King, for a good King asks what his people needs, and he only gave them what he thought they needed.”

His expression was solemn. “Both stories are true, and yet not. It could be the same for your own, that there are elements of truth, and elements of propaganda, in both.”

Midna bared her teeth, but gave no reply. Instead she turned transparent and flew through the door out into the false night.

“Driving away our ally is an excellent strategy, King Ghananorv,” Zelda’s voice was tart, but held no true venom as Link knew it could. “Whom will you drive away next? Link, me for real this time? We should be coming together, not being wedged apart.”

“She’ll be back,” the King replied firmly. “She doesn’t have a choice, and neither do we. And we must face the idea that what we do here may destroy this world, in order for the ghost of a chance to save our own.”

“No.” Link’s fingers moved sharply, anger clear. “I refuse to believe that that is the only outcome. We can save both worlds, can save even the Twili. We just have to find the right path to take.”

Zelda’s smile was wan. “There might not be a right path. It is the duty of royalty to protect their lands and people, but even I know that doesn’t mean I can save them all.”

Link let out an angry sound, then stormed out as well, the false night cold and quiet.

-

Zelda’s heart ached as she watched Link storm out. “...but a good ruler tries anyways.”  Did it mean anything to say that, when the two that might need to hear it most were not there?

King Ghananorv’s warm hand settled on her shoulder. “I’m not sure,” his voice sounded almost fond. “That is something, neither Link, or anyone who bears Courage, can admit. Your own stories always speak of the Hero managing to save everyone. And if Link is that Hero…”

“He is,” Zelda found herself saying. “But he’s not alone, that’s something else the stories say, but no one remembers when they talk about them.” It was easier to pin all your hopes on a singular person, after all, than a group of people, working together towards a common goal. Defeating Zant, and Calamity-Demise, would be easier with the Sages on their side, and the more help, the easier it would be.

The King stared at her for far too long, copper eyes penetrating. “If he is not alone, Zelda, then neither are you.”

He was right, of course. She had Link, and well, the King himself—as hurt as she still might be over his betrayal. “I know. But I’m the one who sometimes gets visions of the future, I’m the one with the blood of a goddess in my veins…”

“And I am the son of one, in mortal form. Divine blood does not make you unique in our world. And considering it seems your visions are not something you can control, or rely upon, are they really that useful, or part of who you are?” It was a soft challenge at least, the King seeming more curious than anything.

Not that Zelda liked it either way. When she did manage to gain Wisdom would it make her life better, or would she be as Zelda the Wise seemed in all of her journals: making the best decisions she could, but always wondering if there was a better way. And was that any way to live your life? Always doubting yourself and your decisions? It seemed Courage and Power were far better lots in life than her own appointed one.

She stared into the flames. “Do you think there will ever be an end?”

“To what? Calamity-Demise? Perhaps, though it could be Midna’s tale is true enough that he is equal to the Goddesses and cannot be destroyed in the way you mean.  In which case, there might never be an end truly, only lulls in the war. But there is good in destruction, though not in the scale it perpetuates.” He answered.

Zelda groaned. “When did the world get so complicated?” It sounded like a childish complaint, but she felt it was allowed, that she could be childish still, for a time.

The King touched her again, and it comforted—and perhaps she hated a little that it did. “It was always complicated, even as we strive to make it simple.”

-

Midna sat in a tree and stared up at the moon, at where Majora’s body supposedly rested, waiting. The sun would be appearing soon, and she’d have to return to the cabin or suffer injury, but not yet.

She’d angered herself out, for the most part, and now just found herself...sad. She missed the comforts of her people, of going to the gravesite they had built for Majora and Her Son to give prayers and offerings. Taking a deep breath she began to sing, hating Zant all over again for her voice was high and childlike instead of the throaty resonance it should have been.

“My dance made the peace,/And gave harmony,/ For though we made war/ It cannot always be./ I dance in your breath,/ And in your heart that beats./ Dance, then, wherever you may be,/ I am the Queen of the Dance, said she,/ And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,/ And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said she …” Midna’s voice cracked and she took a deep shuddering breath. When was the last time this song had been sung here, after all? When was the last time anyone here had truly honored Majora instead of making her a creature to scare little children?

Another deep breath to steady herself, to finish the song. Blinking back tears as her voice rose up again to a moon that watched her impassively. “They cut me down/ And I leapt up high;/ I am the life/ That will never, never die;/ I'll live in you/ And shall always be./ For I am the Dance,/ And I still go on. ” Perhaps She wouldn’t be the same Goddess if Midna revived her. Perhaps there was an element of bias to her people’s stories, but that didn’t mean they didn’t speak the Truth.

Majora was not alive, but she lived on, and would live again. So long as the Twili remembered Her. Minda found herself hoping it would be enough.

-

The late afternoon sun was shining down upon them, but Link found herself feeling morose at best. Logically she knew that not everyone could be saved, that some people would unfortunately die because of Zant’s invasion, and it would not be Link’s fault. But something inside her twisted and recoiled at the thought. Railing against it, insisting that it could all be fixed, that everyone could be saved. That something, somewhere could be found that would fix it all.

After all. Hadn’t that been how it was before?

The mare beneath Link gave a disgruntled snort as Link gave herself a shake. As if that would be enough to throw off the thoughts snaking their way through Link. If this was how Zelda thought all the time, then she found herself feeling bad for her friend, because it felt paralyzing.

Hoofbeats that weren’t her mare’s startled Link out of her thoughts, much to her relief. Zelda rode next to her, worry in her expression. “I...wanted to apologize for earlier. Though,”—Link bit her tongue to keep from snorting, Zelda looked too broken up—“I’d argue that you left before I finished my thought, so I’m more apologizing that I hurt your feelings, than over what I said.”

Link raised her eyebrows in question.

“We can’t save everyone, but we’re going to try anyways,” she said. “I don’t know what Hyrule’s like right now, and I don’t know if it would be better to face Zant right away, or push back the Twilight and his cultists first. Don’t know which would save more lives.”

“We might not have a choice,” Midna chimed in from Zelda’s shadow. “Zant might be lacking in magic, but he’s intelligent. He’ll likely have safeguards in place that we have to deal with first before we can take him down.”

Link nodded. “It’s something, and...I forgive you, Zelda.” She knows Zelda wasn’t cruel or callous enough to just throw away lives when they could save them, just that Zelda had more to consider than Link ever did. The King likely even moreso; her gaze flew to him, riding ahead, seeming to to mind them leaving him alone. Link found herself wondering if there had ever been a time when Power and Wisdom hadn’t been connected to royalty. If that was why Courage gravitated to people like Link.

Pinching her nose, Link bit back a sigh, she was turning into Zelda with those sorts of thoughts. That Zelda giggled at Link’s obvious distress made her snort. “My life used to be so much simpler,” she groused.

“I think you mean boring,” Zelda shot back with a grin.

Midna made her eyes appear in the shadow of Zelda’s horse, only so she could roll her eyes at the both of them. “I’m not sure I want to know what you consider boring.”

Zelda and Link shared a look, the both of them bursting into laughter.

-

After two more days of travel, Ghan began to notice the landscape changing around them. Fertile field shifting into high canyons and crusty sand. It almost reminded him of home.

With the canyon blocking out most of the light, it was harder to tell when the eclipses were, though Midna seemed relieved she could be out and about on her own, instead of reliant on them. Neither of them had quite apologized for the other day, even if they hadn’t continued the argument since.

Ghan blinked rapidly as sudden light spilled upon them from ahead. Midna gave a brief shriek before Ghan felt the familiar chill of her vanishing into his shadow. As their eyes adjusted they saw they’d come upon an open valley, though one dusty and dry. There was a smattering or ruins, and Ghan’s eyes narrowed as he saw movement ahead.

Midna reappeared, her form semi-transparent, though if you looked you could tell she was crying. “Sing to me, oh Mother/ of the Valley of Dance, where sweet water flows./ Speak to me, oh Father,/ of the Valley of Flowers, where the fruit tastes best.” Her hair covered her face, as if she’d notice they’d seen her tears. She sniffled, but seemed to compose herself soon after. “Welcome to Ikana Valley, my ancestral home.”

The movement Ghan had noticed seemed to come and go in fits and starts, as if the person moving was drunk. Whomever it was seemed to be wearing light colors as well, making it harder to see them. Link gave a low whistle, and he followed her pointed finger to see more movement, just as erratic as the one he’d notice.

“Are...there people living here?” Zelda’s voice was hesitant. Then she shook her head, as if answering her own question. “Something...something isn’t right here.”

Something magical? Ghan reached out, a shudder passing through him as he touched something...cold and empty. Not right really was the best description. He quickly withdrew the tendril of magic, grateful that whatever it was didn’t try to follow him back.

Midna frowned. “I wouldn’t think humans would dare, considering how much they hate us. And the Samedo seemed to think the whole area was abandoned. I can’t get much closer like this unless one of you do,” frustration filled her voice.

Link grabbed her bow, nocking an arrow, but not drawing it just yet. Ghan found himself copying her, and so did Zelda, the three of them ready, just in case. Except the moving...people didn’t seem to get any closer, as if they hadn’t noticed them yet. The four of them shared looks, then Link kicked her mare into a walk, getting closer. Ghan and Zelda not far behind.

The pale fabrics Ghan had noticed appeared to be bandages, as if the ones wearing them were ill or injured in some fashion, which would explain the movements as well. Yet that didn’t seem to stop them in whatever they were doing.

Thankfully the horses were smarter than the rest of them, otherwise they all would have ridden right into the crevasse hidden by the land’s own sameness. As they comfort their horses, they looked, not across the landscape, but down into it, which had been hidden from sight by the rise they were on.

More of these strange people were moving about than either Ghan or Link had spotted, all of them covered in bandages and all of them moving in the same jerky way. Many were carrying bricks and large stones, while others were clearly headed back towards wherever said bricks and stones were coming from. Following the trail of people carrying building materials, one could clearly see that they were building a tower of some sort, though for what purpose was beyond Ghan.

Another person appeared; who set themselves apart by moving far more like a person should, being smaller than the others, and being dressed in colorful clothing rather than pale bandages. They almost seemed to dance as they went to the tower. At this distance, Ghan could only guess that they were inspecting something, or getting an update on the progress of the work.

As they were headed back to wherever they’d come from they stopped, and turned to face them. Revealing that they were wearing a colorful mask. Midna gasped.

The person let out a screech that reached into Ghan’s very bones and froze them into place. The horses let out sounds of distress, but seemed just as frozen in place.

In unison the bandaged people turned towards them, lumbering forward. Though how they were going to cross the crevasse Ghan didn’t know. But he quickly found out, for the lumbering people got to the edge and just...threw themselves into the crevasse. A sight that terrified Ghan more than anything else he’d ever seen.

The screech seemed to linger, but it eventually did fade. And Ghan found he could move again. Without thought he turned his horse and kicked her into a gallop, wanting to get out of there before they found out if the bandaged people would just climb up the other side, regardless of whatever injuries they incurred. Hoofbeats sounded behind him, thankfully.

They were ten minutes back into the canyon before Ghan stopped, taking deep breaths to try and calm his heart. “What in the names of all that is holy and unholy?”

Midna fully appeared again, her red-orange eyes wide, hair thrashing wildly. “Those…” She took a deep breath, tried to speak again. “Those were the living dead...Oh Goddess. There were so many…” She shivered.

To Ghan’s surprise, Zelda reached out and took the Twili’s hand, squeezing it. “How? I thought they could only be made with that mask? Why were they dressed so strangely?”

Again to his surprise, Midna didn’t throw off the touch. “I thought so too, but...but there were far too many of them. Never Sleeps were a closely guarded secret to an extent, I don’t think they ever made enough to account for... that. They were a punishment, but a harsh and rarely used one. It has to be something else. The bandages were to protect them from the sunlight, it hurts them, makes them decay faster.”

Zelda hummed. “I...don’t know if it works without an instrument, but there is a song that can help, though I’m not sure what...other effects it might have.” 

Link raised her eyebrows. “Which song is that? I don’t recall it from any of the lessons you dragged me to.”

“The Sun Song,” Zenda answered. “I found it in a book on ancient music. I don’t know if it was deliberately forgotten, or if it was no longer useful,” she gave a snort. “But it’s not common knowledge. It is supposed to help calm the restless dead, though I don’t think it kills them. It does...also change the world from day to night, or night to day...supposedly.”

Ghan echoed her snort. “That’s quite the powerful song to forget.” Which felt like a very Hylian thing to do. He didn’t understand why you’d want to change the night and day cycle to suit your whims—although laying the restless dead was quite useful.

“Try it next time,” Midna suggested. “We’re going to have to go back if we want that mask, and if just your voice doesn’t work, I can try fashioning you an instrument out of magic. It’s not my best skill, but it’d be better than nothing.”

Link shuddered, and Ghan had to laugh a little. “Not very courageous of you.”

Link stuck up her pinkies. “I’ll do it,” her fingers snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Those things were freaky.”

She’d get no argument from Ghan there. “We should retreat farther, try and find a cave or something to hole up in and make a real plan.” He turned his horse true west, only to stop, when he saw someone was blocking their path.

They had to be maybe a little taller than Midna currently was. Dressed in garish colorful clothes, and and equally garish looking mask. The one they’d seen directing the living dead in the valley, the one from Enegu’s story.

The child? grinned at them—somehow Ghan could tell that despite the face they were wearing a mask. “I found you!” Their voice was thin and reedy.

It turned and turned and turned it’s head, until the mask was upside down.

The world world went black.

Notes:

So it's shaping up atm, that the next chapter will be the end of part 2. See you then!

Chapter 20: Part 2: Those Who Figures Justice in For Memory

Notes:

It was a long road, but we are, indeed, at the end of part 2. Hope you all enjoy!

Zelda awoke slowly, blinking didn’t dispel the darkness like her brain thought it should, and it took her a while to realize it was because she was in a dark room. She looked around, her heart stopping in her chest when she found light, if light, she realized, she didn’t want to find.

It came from the Mask, a dull gleaming glow, as if it had to, but didn’t want to. Each color was distinct from the other, the eyes somehow the worst part.

She expected it to feel wrong, as all the redeads—that’s what her books had called them, though she supposed since they were covered that technically made them gibdos—had back in the valley. But it just felt...off, a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit.

Go back to sleep, Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, ever touched by my Sister. The voice seemed to come from everywhere around her, and inside her head at the same time. In the morning, it shall all be over.

Shivers wracked through Zelda. And though she laid down and closed her eyes, sleep was a long time coming.

-

Midna floated in the shadow of a doorway, staring through it to the sunny outside. The living dead they’d seen earlier were all gone now, Midna didn’t know where, and didn’t exactly care. The tower they’d been constructing was half-finished, but... Majora? didn’t seem to care about that now.

She watched as the not-yet-but-still-a Goddess worked, the body of the living dead child who wore her mask sketched and danced around the tower. Doing workings Midna couldn’t understand, even with her own vast understanding of magic. Midna found herself wondering if the Twili had ever known how to do such things, or if they had only ever been known to the Goddess.

“You watch so intently,” the child’s reedy voice spoke from right in front of Midna.

Who managed not to jump, but her heart picked up in her chest. “How...how can I not? You’re…” The words dried up in her throat. She didn’t even know honestly. She had an idea of who the child was, but didn’t know if it was true or not.

Twig-like fingers prodded at Midna’s throat. “Speak,” it demanded. “Tell us of what has happened since we were left alone.”

The words flowed out of Midna now, like she had no choice. Not even just the story she’d told the Hyruleans either, but every scrap of story she could recall of her people since their banishment from Termina. The forging of the living swords, how her people had languished in the darkness until the Zantesni sacrificed their lives to ignite the Sol. Of heroes and queens, the greatest dancers and kings. Of the silent golden wolf who guarded the royals. Even Midna’s own life, her childhood growing up in the dark forest, meeting Zant for the first time, winning the Trials and the queenship for seven years. “Though how am I supposed to rule when I have no home, no people?” She let out something like a laugh as she realized it was the same sort of questions King Ghananorv had asked when they’d first explored Clock Town.

The child...pulled Midna into a hug. “I am sorry, my child,” Midna almost laughed again. “That you and yours have suffered so.” The twig fingers brushed at her cheeks, wiping away the tears Midna hadn’t realized she was crying.

“Are...are you really the Great Betrayer?” Was that rude to ask? But who else could this child be? 

A shrug. “Perhaps, I have no memories of before this curse was placed upon me, and her...memories are fragmented, not all there either.” The Mask...smiled. “We have only been together for a decade, and most of that time has been spent hiding, or making my former friends! It is only the last year we felt ready to try and reunite.” The Mask tilted, chin pointed towards where the Hyruleans still slept. “But now that you have brought them we can do it now, and not in another decade when the tower would’ve been finished!” 

“How can they help? Can I?” Midna wanted to, she wanted the Goddess returned to them.

“They bear the Marks of Her Sisters, if not quite in full. They have always worked better together.” The Mask gave a grin of monstrous teeth. “And there is another secret, but we will not speak it until we are separated, it will be better that way. As for you, my child…” It...they?, looked at her for a long moment. “We will need someone to stand in for myself...yes, you will do.”

Pride swelled in Midna’s chest, and she smiled back. “I would be honored.”

-

Link woke to a raging headache. Groaning she sat upright, rubbing at her temples and wishing she had something for the pain.

“Here.” Warm, calloused fingers brushed her forehead and the pain disappeared.

Link spared the King a glance, and grunted in thanks. “Where are we?”

“Back in the valley,” the King answered. “Zelda’s still asleep, I might try waking her soon, if she doesn’t wake up on her own.”

A nod, Link glancing over Zelda, curled up under a pile of blankets. Her expression looked untroubled at least, and Link couldn’t sense any magic beyond the obvious bits. The door to their room seemed to be thrown wide open and Link frowned. “Is there a guard?”

The King shook his head. “No, we seem to be free to come and go as we please, but I didn’t want to leave you two while you were sleeping, just in case.” His copper eyes were warm with concern, and Link could feel herself flush, looking away from the King to a deeply interesting crack in a nearby wall.

“I don’t see why you just do admit your feelings, Link,” thankfully the King didn’t sound amused, just...tired. “Fighting them isn’t going to make them go away.” He sounded as if he were speaking from experience.

Link stuck her pinky up at him. “It’s none of your business.”

A sigh. “Perhaps, but it seems to be making you miserable. As your King, and, I would hope, your friend, I can express concern for you, can I not?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Friend?”  She certainly hadn’t thought about it. Things had always been hazy with Zelda, moreso because Zelda had pushed herself into Link's life instead of following the expectations of relations between a young princess and an equally young page. But by the time Link had met the King, well, she knew how things between Kings and their Guards went, despite what some of the plays she’d gone to with Zelda might suggest.

True, their relationship was a bit more unusual since Link was truly only there for Zelda, but it wasn’t as if she and the King had ever truly tried to bond, from Link’s perspective. The King had certainly tried to flirt, but that was different. He’d at least never tried to abuse his position.

“Perhaps it is a shallow claim at best,” the King relented. “But given time it could be true? While I might wish for more, I could content myself with friendship.” He sounded as if he weren’t just talking about Link.

Would it be rude to shrug? Link felt...mildly comfortable admitting she was attracted to the King, but… It just seemed easier not to bother, less to worry about, there always seemed to be something more important in Link’s life.

“I think the wolf companion Midna has is the Hero of Courage from six hundred years ago.” Link blurts. Honestly she has no idea what she would’ve said. And despite it not being the best time to bring it up, she does feel some relief in finally telling someone. Perhaps she should’ve tried to make time to ask Midna about it.

The King’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t see how that has any bearing on our conversation, but why?”

“For a few days I had...weird dreams, where this Stal would visit and try to teach me to fight. It told me it was training me to defeat you, because you’d go evil, like the last Ghananorv did and try to do the same thing he did. I...haven’t talked to Midna about it.”

“Have you told anyone else?” The King didn’t sound suspicious, or wary, thankfully.

Link shook her head. “During the last dream, it...gave me memories, I guess, of past Heroes. To try to convince me, and I think I sort of...banished it. Because I didn’t think you would go evil.”

The King...laughed, which was a strange sort of relief. “I guess I should be grateful for that belief, though I am curious as to why you think so.”

“You...love Zelda, and hate being in her bad graces, even if you know you deserve it. And for some reason you like me, which I don’t understand...just like Zelda,” Link’s fingers hesitated, as if reluctant to admit that. Even if she didn’t mean romantically or sexually.

Copper eyes stared at her. “Love and lust don’t seem like good enough reasons, in fact one could argue that both would make me more likely to become evil, if they were taken from me.”

“Bullshit,” Link shot back. “And I wasn’t finished, asshole. The last king had a hole in his heart?” Or at least that’s what Link recalled from the History. “And couldn’t understand love, but you can. Or you’re really fucking good at faking it.”

“Fair,” the King agreed. “But...I...have a hole in my heart, too. You are right that I do understand love, and feel it. Perhaps that is enough to separate me from my predecessor. I can only hope.”

“Your predecessor didn’t have Zelda or I,” Link replied tartly. “So you’re already doing better.”

A sound, something between a laugh and a snort, escaped the King. “For which I thank my Mother every day, I assure you,” his tone was fond, if dry. “I guess I should also thank her for you not listening to the past and turning on me.” There was a strange note in his voice.

Link shrugged. “If we only listened to the past we’d all be doomed and never progress,” she said.

“Quite philosophical,” the King commented. To Link’s surprise, the King began to undo his braid, his hair quickly becoming a river of wavy red. The King gave a snort at Link’s stunned expression. “Did you think my hair just came braided?”

A shake of her head. Link hadn’t exactly thought about it—except occasionally, when Link imagined her pale fingers digging into it, turning it into a mess. It certainly seemed like far more hair than Link had ever seen on anyone.

“You can braid, right?” The King pulled Link out of her musings.

Warily she nodded. “Zelda taught me ages ago.”

The King nodded. “Then I would appreciate your help, please. This goes a lot faster with more than two hands. Zelda,” Link started, having not realized she was awake. “Or are you more likely to cut it all off?”

Zelda slowly pushed herself upright, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I would never dare to offend you like that, King Ghananorv. But I suppose I can help, for Link’s sake.” Pushing her own messy hair away from her face she stood and sat behind the King, gesturing for Link to join her.

Twenty minutes later Link’s arms ached, and she was certain she was going to be dreaming about braids for a week after this. But she had to admit that the King’s hair looked impressive, though why he wanted to look impressive she couldn’t guess—although a part of her wanted to just dive in and make a mess of it, mostly for her own amusement.

To her surprise, the King moved behind her, and she started to feel those long fingers in her hair. “Let me return the favor.”

Sitting as still as possible, Link didn’t argue. Though she did start again as Midna flew in, a smile on her face. “Are we doing each other’s hair? I’m sorry I missed it.” Zelda snorted from where she was changing. “Well when you’re done there’s food, and...the Mask wants to speak with you all.”

“We’ll be there,” Zelda answered.

Midna gave a...sad sort of nod, but flew back out.

Zelda sighed. “I don’t know if we can trust her,” she finally spoke. She sat down next to Link and gave a wan smile. “I want to, but…”

“There,” the King made a satisfied sound and Link found herself turning to give him a smile of thanks. He shifted over and began to do Zelda’s hair, neither of them saying anything about it. “And why is that?”

“The wolf seems to want me to trust her,” Link chimed in. Repeating her explanation when Zelda made a questioning sound. 

Zelda looked like she wanted to ask a million questions, none of which were likely important to their current situation, and Link found herself smiling. Only to shake her head. “Even so. It’s just... Majora. If she really is a Sister to the Golden Three, then why is she never mentioned? Why just...erase her like that from their own story?”

“Perhaps grief,” the King replied. “Or just that since she had no hand in making Hyrule, they didn't see fit to make mention of her.”

“It’s not like we can ask them,” Link chimed in. That would be something, to be able to call down one of the Three and just...ask them a question like that. “They left our world too, and who knows where they are. And if you could reach Hylia, would she know the answer? ”

“All valid points,” Zelda agreed. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “Perhaps it’s just paranoia. Everything here seems tailor made to just...put me out of sorts, nevermind the fact that there’s an invasion going on in Hyrule and we’re helpless to do anything.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “It just feels...easy.”

“I hardly think it has been easy,” the King countered. “But that is me. And at this point, do we have any other choice? I doubt even if we could grab the mask and escape here and Midna, that we’d be able to get back into Clock Town to give it to the Salesman. Who clearly wasn’t the owner of the mask like he claimed in the first place. Making me less inclined to give it to him anyways.” He finished braiding Zelda’s hair, pinning it to her head with the hairpins that had been hidden away for the past few days.

“Well, we might as well make our decision on a full stomach.” Making a decision while hungry was never a good idea.

Zelda sighed. “Yes, you’re right.” She stood. “Let’s go find breakfast then.”

-

Was it rude for Zelda to feel relief that it was actual food and not...well something the dead might consider food but the living didn’t? Did the dead have thoughts about eating? Zelda shook off her thoughts off as she sat, carefully picking up an apple and biting in.

Midna sat on the other side of the table, remnants of her own breakfast scattered about. “We can’t start until tonight,” she said. “So we’re welcome to do as we please until then.”

“Where is...he?” This seems far more complicated than Link and Zelda didn’t quite know how to address it properly.

“We,” a voice spoke from the doorway. “Are here.” Zelda turned with Ghananorv and Link. There indeed was the colorfully dressed child, wearing the Mask—which was no longer glowing, had that been a dream? “And let us welcome you to our home, you are guests and afforded every right.” Which wasn’t exactly a relief to Zelda, but did mean they likely weren’t about to die any time soon.

Ghananorv set down his bread. “Can you tell us what happened? We know what Clock Town says and what the Twili do, but did any of that really happen?”

Majora...Zelda supposed that was as good a name as any for...them, shrugged. “I cannot in this current form. As I told Midna, my memories are scattered, and the Child had none at all. We are both lesser things than we were. Once I am whole, all will be revealed, children.”

“Convenient,” Link seemed unimpressed.

“Believe us, or not, but I am your only way through the Sacred Realm and back to your own world. It’s only by luck and desperation that you survived the first trip,” Majora said plainly. “And you are all chosen by my dearest Sisters, I would harm you no more than I would my own child.” Eerie eyes watched them. “Eat, explore, sleep, whatever you wish. I will come collect you all in the evening and much will happen.”

Zelda sighed as Majora left them, resigned to helping, and hoping that this didn’t make everything worse.

-

Ghan found himself strangely...excited as evening fell. Things were finally happening and they would soon be home. He would take the War Crown and give it to Nabooru; he wanted the chance for peace should the Twili offer it. Their war was only with Zant and his cultists, and Calamity.

Majora collected them all and led them outside and up into the rickety tower. Ghan was amazed that dead creatures had built it, and equally amazed that it didn’t fall apart when he started to climb the stairs—even as he feared it might when he took the next one. Eventually they reached the top, where a set of five interlocking circles had been drawn.

“Before we begin,” Majora spoke. “There is one curse that should be broken.” She stepped up to Midna. “And a way that should be opened for our final participant.” Majora leaned in, their mask pressing against Midna’s face. Words too soft for Ghan to hear were spoken, and there was a flash of black light that obscured even the moon for a heartbeat.

When the light cleared Midna was...gone, or the Midna they had all known.

In her place stood a woman almost as tall as Ghan, elegant and lithe. Her movements graceful when she touched her face and arms. “Oh, Lady,” she blinked back tears. “Thank...thank you.” She pulled the beautifully woven cloak tighter around her, bringing it to her face as if to breathe it in.

“Of course, my child.” Majora held a ball of magenta light in her hands, bouncing it back and forth between them, as if it were a toy. She whispered something to it as well, then threw it out into the valley. “We won’t have to wait long,” they said.

Ghan frowned.

“What do you mean?” Zelda asked, her own expression troubled.

Before Majora could answer there was a strange...sucking sound that made all of Ghan’s hair stand up on end. Then, up from the same stairs they had come, came the Salesman.

He...It was no longer wearing the garish magenta mask, but Ghan almost wished it was. 

It’s face was cracked, magenta and black light pouring from them, it’s eyes were empty holes that somehow moved about as if they were still working. The strange sound again, and Ghan realized it was the Salesman breathing. “My love, come back to me.” It reached out a hand, more of the human flaking away to reveal more magenta and black.

A bony finger pointed firmly at one of the circles. “Fix what you have broken and perhaps I will be kind.”

Midna seemed unconcerned, while Zelda looked as if she were going to jump on the Salesman and thrust whatever purifying magics she could upon it. Link looked wary, but relaxed, ready to jump in should she be required.

“But is it not heaven to be as one? Give yourself fully to me, let me finally have the last of you, Majora.” The Salesman’s voice was a wheezing rattle. Hardly enticing in the least.

“As you did our son?” There was a coldness to Majora’s voice now, a smoothness that seemed alien and strange. “Though even then you could not keep all of him, mine own.” They pointed at the circle again. “The circle, I will not ask again.”

Not-hands rubbed together, magenta and black eyes appeared and disappeared all over the Salesman. “No, no, no, there must be nothing again, nothing again and the Void will wake once more, please.” It sounded almost...pleading.

Majora spun, a foot stomping to the ground, the whole world seeming to shake. “We go forward, never back.” Their hands rose, taking on a dancing pose, if an eerie one considering the body. “I am full Will and Spirit, and you are too spread thin, my sibling, I cannot be stopped. I will have all that you have taken from me.”

They began to...dance. Each step that Majora took drew a reluctant answering one from the Salesman. From everywhere low voices began to rise, making an eerie song to match the dance, Ghan shivered.

Midna fell to her knees, eyes bright, murmuring prayers. Yet at the sound of the voices she stilled. “The Giants,” fear filled her voice.

If Majora was worried about them, they said nothing, all their focus on the dance, on...Calamity, Ghan supposed, or an avatar of that being. Closer and closer it was lured to the circle Majora had asked it to step into before.

Ghan looked around the valley to see that Midna was right, Giants—Ghan boggled at the size of them—approached. Their steps lumbering, and yet somehow unfelt, as if they did not affect the world. Perhaps to both Ghan and Midna’s relief the Giants did not descend upon the tower, but gathered nearby, too long arms reaching up and up and up, grasping the Moon.

“To your circles!” Majora’s voice rose stridently. “Open yourselves for what is to come, ye Five. You who stand for those who came after the Void, Makers and Unmakers.” They stomped their foot again, another shake of the world, as they came to a stop in the intersection of all five circles. “Sing your songs, so that I might dance and be free!”

Without thought Ghan moved to stand in a circle. He opened his mouth and began to sing, of deserts, and his people, of the lives he’d lived, the love he had, his hope. Midna leapt in to join him quickly, as she took the circle next to him, head thrown back in religious fervor.

Zelda’s song was more reluctant, but she still joined in, and Link’s hands moved more gracefully than Ghan had ever seen as she added in her own soundless song.

Calamity’s was nothing more than a tortured groan, clearly more reluctant than even Zelda.

Somehow their disparate voices became harmonious, the Giants providing the backing. Majora let out a wild ulation as she began to dance and dance and dance. Everything in Ghan’s body attuning to each movement and gesture.

Above them the Malice in the moon began to writhe. Black light blanketed the world, until all that could be seen was Majora, shining darker still. Her hands rose up and she pulled. A tortured, grinding sound deafening Ghan as the Moon moved.

Another pull, and the Malice writhed harder, the movements so rapid that the magenta and black began to part, as oil and water.

With each new step, with each insistent pull, Majora took down the black, leaving only the glaringly brilliant magenta behind. Even the black from the Salesman came to her, leaving a pillar of magenta, still groaning, in it’s place. Still she moved, spinning tighter and tighter like a dancer, until she was nothing but a blur of black and smeared colors.

Ghan found himself still singing, as if compelled—in a way he was, he supposed. Their song rose to a crescendo, the world feeling like it was about to collapse in on itself. As if what they were doing was destruction and not rebirth.

Then he, and everything else, just... stopped. The silence expectant and eternal.

In the center of the circles the black coalesced into a woman, who despite being still gave the impression of movement.

Her skin and hair were both dark, though it was a shifting darkness, like Midna’s. Her long fingers were holding the mask up to her face, and when she lowered it, she revealed a broad face, perhaps more handsome than beautiful.

Midna fell to her knees, crying. Majora moved, grace in her every line, her hand resting atop Midna’s hair. “Do not cry,” her voice sounded like music itself. “Even in joy, my child.”

She returned the mask to her face and turned towards that pillar of Calamity. “You, my sibling, my own, are not welcome.” Her hands slammed together, the world shook, and Calamity-Demise screamed. Black flared again, and whine it faded away, Calamity-Demise was gone, as was the Malice that had engulfed the moon.

It was quite a nice moon, Ghan found himself thinking as it took a much more moon-like position in the sky, buttery yellow and rich.

Zelda stepped forward, her indigo eyes terrified. “You...you owe us the truth,” her voice was tremulous as she spoke.

-

Zelda couldn’t believe herself what she was doing, demanding answers of a Goddess, supposedly. Granted banishing Calamity-Demise was a feat fit for the divine, it’d taken the full Triforce, and Hylia herself, to kill his physical form—if the myths were to be believed—after all.

Majora removed her mask once more, this time revealing Zelda’s own face—if older and more worn—Zelda took a step back, fear pounding in her heart as she waited for...well, divine punishment of some sort.

Link’s warm hand settled on her back, so at least she wasn’t alone. Ghananorv stood at the other side of the circles, his expression suggesting he wished he was closer, but didn’t dare to move. She didn’t blame him for that. Black eyes, so at least the copy was both more and less eerie than it could have been, stared at her. “I suppose you do,” she agreed.

She clapped her hands and the world around them shifted, Zelda blinked and the world resolved into the dining room they had been in earlier, table laden once more with delicious looking food. Cups floated around Majora whimsically as she poured them all coffee—or at least it smelled and tasted like coffee.

Opening the pot she’d poured from, Majora tossed the remainder into the air. It didn’t fall as it should have, instead it spread, thinner and thinner, until it seemed to be a wall of the stuff. Forms began to appear, indistinct, but recognizable, figures. “We Five all were born of the Void. Though we all emerged at the same time, there was something of Nayru, Din, and Farore, which spoke of Elder, and Triplets, inseparable from each other.

“Then there was myself, and the one you call Calamity, whom we all, even itself, considered the youngest. Even before we Four made Termina, it was adversarial towards us. Claiming that the Void that we emerged from was a being like us, and that we could wake her, if only we all were One whole being instead of Five.” The figures, demarcated by their color, began to weave, or at least four of them did, the fifth, magenta one only stood by. “Perhaps it is right, perhaps it is wrong, to me it does not matter either way. We Exist, separate from each other, why should we Join in such a permanent fashion?”

Termina appeared, spread out like the view from a bird. “It saw what we made and hated it, thinking each bit of creation took us further and further from the Void that made us, and so it sought to consume this world. I told my Sisters to run, for should one of them die, they likely all would, while I, aided by the Giants we made, stood to protect this land.

“There was fighting.” On the ‘stage,’ Zelda supposed, figures and light clashed, a war in abstract. “But my Sibling is clever, and managed to sneak in a crippling blow. It began to consume me, but the Giants managed to twist it's victory, for they split my soul from my body, keeping it safe in the Mask. My Sibling still got my body though, and as it consumed me, the energy and force of it was enough to create new life. Perhaps the only thing my Sibling will ever have created.”

The figure in magenta began to consume the one in black, and in a flash a small, copper figure appeared. “But it was not to last, for my ever-hungry Sibling consumed our son as well.” Majora’s face split into a too large grin. “Though Din, ever the thief, stole a bit of our child.” Black eyes fell upon Ghananorv. “Though what she intended to do with that shard, which your Hylia named Demise, I could not fathom.”

Zelda felt... small. Ghananorv blinked and shook his head. “No. I’m the Son of Din, yes, but…”

“That you have two mothers and a parent is impossible?” Majora’s voice sounded wry. “The Divine are not bound by the rules of the worlds we make. Demise was created by an act of Divine violence between two of said Divine, and was stolen away by a third, nothing about that is possible to a mortal.”

“But...the Mad God is your consort,” Midna’s voice sounded as small as Zelda felt. Zelda felt some measure of sympathy for the other woman, to have your beliefs torn down by your own Goddess. “He called you his love, just now.”

Majora’s head turned and turned in that unsettling fashion that the mask had. “Perhaps in a way I love it, we were one being for thousands of years, that engenders something. But it is not the sort of love mortals feel for one another.” She shrugged. “I cannot kill it, just as I cannot kill my Sisters, but I would stop it, bring it to heel like a dog, if I could.” Again her gaze turned to Ghananorv, as if expecting a response.

He just looked...lost. Zelda didn’t stop herself from reaching across the way and squeezing his hand in her own.

“So what now then? Can you get us back to Hyrule? ” Link finally spoke up, her expression only mildly troubled. Granted Link was all too good at hiding her thoughts and feelings.

“Yes, though I will not be able to do it alone.” The Mask rose from her side where it had been floating, as it moved through the ‘stage’ it dissolved, falling in an orderly stream to the pot it had come from. “I am a bit too weak from banishing my Sibling. But with Ghananorv’s help, I can return you.” The Mask floated in front of him, expectantly.

To Zelda’s surprise, Ghananorv looked wary. “What do you want me to do?”

Majora met his gaze, her face shifting once more. “Put on my Mask, open yourself to me so that I might use what my Sister gave you. That is all. Once you have been returned to Hyrule you may do as you please. Though I would hope my Mask might go to Midna, to prove I have awoken to my people.” She stared at him. “You are a sliver of my Son, Ghananorv, I wish you no ills.”

“Alright.” He still sounded wary, but picked the Mask out of the air.

Before he could put it on, Link leapt over the table, nearly smashing her face into Ghananorv’s in an inelegant kiss. Her face was the same color as Ghananorv’s hair when she pulled away. “For luck.”

Midna sniggered. “A bit more than luck, I think,” she teased.

Link flipped her off, before returning to her spot, still blushing. Zelda couldn’t quite believe it herself. She’d overheard some of their conversation this morning, before ‘waking up,’ but she hadn’t thought it would push Link to that. Zelda found herself strangely jealous and yet not. At Ghananorv’s mildly expectant look she rolled her eyes. “I let you braid my hair this morning, My King, I think that is enough for both of us today.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed. Taking a deep breath he stood and put on the Mask.

Majora stood as well, and Ghananorv began to mirror each of her movements after, the two of them creating a bizarre dance.

Around them the world began to darken, until Zelda couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. A quasi-familiar tugging sensation came over Zelda.

Then she knew no more.

-

Midna opened her eyes, then regretted it immediately. Squeezing them shut as if that might block out the blinding sunlight surrounding her. Sunlight? Her hand itched, and she flexed it to make the sensation go away.

This time she opened her eyes more carefully, yes, she realized, sunlight. Yet why wasn’t she burning like she had before? Pushing herself up she felt sand under her fingers, and looking around she could only see sand, sand, and more sand. In the distance she saw an umber darkness that reminded her of Twilight, but it could’ve been an illusion.

Much closer she saw Link and Zelda, the two of them sprawled out in the sand. Between them sat Majora’s Mask.

Nowhere could she see King Ghananorv.

Carefully she moved over to Zelda and Link, shaking them both. “Wake up! I can’t find Ghananorv.” As they stirred, Midna found herself picking up the Mask, attaching it to her belt. “One of you please tell me you heard him leaving.” Though why would he leave them without waking someone else to say so? Midna was more than certain he felt too responsible for everyone else to just leave them.

“Midna, what…” Zelda’s voice drifted as she had her own look around, indigo eyes widening. “We made it! We’re back in Hyrule!” Midna was going to have to take Zelda’s word for it on that front. “Oh thank Hylia, and Majora, I guess.” She blinked at Midna. “Why aren’t you burning?”

Midna shook her head. “That’s not important. What’s important is that I can’t find Ghananorv anywhere.”

“Can you fly up and look around? ” Link asked quickly.

Midna nodded. She willed herself up and yelped as she practically teleported up into the sky. What in Twilight was going on? She shook it off, she could figure that out later. Right now she looked around, doing her best to keep Link and Zelda in sight while she searched.

Only to find no familiar large lumps of red and brown. Disheartened, she returned to them. “I can’t find him.” Where could he be ?

“Maybe he landed too far away, ” Link suggested as she stood, dusting herself off. “We don’t even know where in the desert we are. Which is a problem in and of itself.”

“I saw Twilight in the distance, which means we’re somewhat close to civilization, as it were.” Or as close as it would get in Hyrule while Zant was around. “Finding our way there will help us figure where we are, to a point. But that doesn’t answer where King Ghananorv might’ve gone.”

Reaching into the bag that had been half-hidden beneath her, Zelda pulled out the King’s crown. Closing her eyes she wove her fingers through the two serpents, and Midna could feel magic building. Only for it to just...fizzle out. Zelda’s expression was pained when she opened her eyes again. “That tracking spell should have worked, this is his, more than anything else but there’s just nothing. Majora promised we all would be safe, so where is he?” She at least managed to make this not sound too accusing towards Midna.

All Midna could do was shrug. “Maybe something went wrong and he’s still in Termina with Majora, she said he was her Son,” and stars and sunshine that was still something Midna couldn’t quite believe. All of it was what she’d thought and yet not, and she prayed that sometime soon she’d get a chance to process all of that. “And that she meant him no ill will.” The Goddess had to have kept him safe, Midna had to believe that.

“Did she have any real reason to tell us the truth though?” Link’s expression was tired.

“I thought you were all for Majora,” Zelda sounded equally tired now.

Link it seemed couldn’t even muster up the energy to glare at her. “She told the truth about getting us home. But she’s a Goddess, and they have their own agendas, ones they probably don’t bother trying to explain to us sentients.” There was perhaps a little bitterness in her words.

Zelda clutched the crown tighter. “He...he might not have made it. At all.” She blinked back tears. “So for all we know he could be dead, and we don’t even have a body to give to his people to give their rights to.” 

All Midna seemed to do was blink, and Link was next to Zelda, wrapping her arms around the other woman and holding her tight. Midna’s hand itched again and she found herself glaring at it.

Only to bite back a sound of surprise—and she was utterly grateful that Zelda and Link were caught up in their shared grief—when she saw faint lines appear on her hand, the triangle at the top filling with gold. Oh Goddesses. 

So he was dead then. Why else would she have been granted his part of the Triforce?

Midna focused, the King had managed to spend most of his time without this sigil on his hand, so Midna could too—later, she would tell them later, after some of the grief had passed. To her relief it faded without protest, though Midna still felt an itching all over. Power itself, Midna supposed.

Carefully Midna went to join them, wrapping them in her cloak as she comforted them.

-

The Sacred Realm was many things all at once: a fertile land, an empty white void, a dark cavern of water and sigils.

Majora walked through them all, her black form ever-shifting and restless.

Despite the Realm being endless, she found the Center of it with ease. With great care she laid down the body in her arms and took a step away.

She stomped her foot and the Sacred Realm shuddered. “Wake, O Demise, my son, twice-dead yet never-living.” Stomp. “Wake, O Ghananorv fa’gadumire, half-born god, and shuck your mortal pattern.” Stomp. “Wake! For there is war to dance and death to sing!” Stomp. “Wake, and claim what my Sibling consumed of you!” Stomp.

The body that was and was not her Son shifted slightly. Around his eyes cracks formed, warm copper light shining through. That same copper light filled the Realm when he opened his eyes.

Majora held her arm out for him, the Realm shivering when he took it.

As she helped him stand, she began to sing “My dance made the war,/ That will never cease/ Let us battle on/ So there never shall be peace.” He moved to stand next to her, his deep bell-like voice joining in. “My voice and the dance/ Drive the soldier on/ For they all love Death/ And the glory’s long gone. ”

One final time she stomped her foot. A fissure forming before them, inky, golden twilight seeping through. Together they stepped through, the fissure sealing behind them.

Notes:

Just like last time I'll give you the epigraph as a teaser for part three, though this time there are two for you.

And you'll carry on
Cause in the end
It's the way of all things
It will be beautiful
---
Meet me on the surface
I will never leave
Just one time, all I need
Calling from the bottom but you don't hear me
Stuck in time, stuck in me

And again, I'll be taking a break next week to give myself a much needed break. So I'll see you all on June 9th!

Chapter 21: Part 3: The Way of All Things

Notes:

Welcome to part 3, y'all! (which may or may not be the last part, we'll see how it goes...)

Part title comes from "In the End" by Vanessa Carlton.

the first memory is of darkness, and pain.

-

It is a war of particles, of things too small to be named.

It has raged. It rages. It will rage.

-

The sound of horses made Link’s ears twitch, caution shoving her grief aside. She was certain it wasn’t the Twili—though the fact that Midna was no longer burning in the sun like she used to was throwing Link a little—but there might be bandits, or ‘blins who had decided to brave the desert.

She found the sword the Samedo had given her, which had been left in the room they’d woken in, making the absence of the King even more glaring in a way. If Majora could have grabbed their things from another room, then how could she have not managed him. Pulling away from Midna she told them someone was coming before grasping the sword firmly, ready to protect them if need be. Though she wouldn’t mind Midna throwing in some magical support.

She hoped Midna would help even more when a dozen, at least, horses crested a nearby dune. Their riders looked human, which was neutral, but Link found herself relaxing when the cloak of one of the riders billowed away revealing brown skin, as well as a red sirwal and kurta.

Not that Link abandoned her sword completely at the thought these might be Gerudo, but at least there was hope that more terrible things might not be heaped upon them. The riders circled them, Link’s eyes following, relieved that while these possibly-Gerudo have weapons, none were pointed at them.

The rider on a black far too large for them trotted the mare closer, reaching a wrinkled hand to push her hood back.

Link blinked, sword dropping out of useless fingers.

Behind her she heard a sniff, then Zelda’s ragged voice spoke. “Nabooru?”

Nabooru, if it was her, was not the same woman they’d left in Castle Town: her hair had started to go gray, and she appeared leaner—though Link supposed that might not be as surprising, hard times in the desert not unusual. Her golden eyes narrowed as she leaned towards them, pointing a silver-tipped spear at them. “Clever, to disguise yourselves so, but it won’t work. Best shed those illusions and make this easier for everyone, and maybe I won’t trap you in a spirit maze forever.”

Behind Link she heard movement, Zelda coming to stand beside her, meeting Nabooru’s hard gaze. “We are no illusion, Nabooru, elder sister to Ghananrov fa’Dragahmire, who once told me about a hairpin while you were Raimedo in Hyrule.” She hugged herself and Link reached out to rest a hand on her back in comfort. “It seems we have more to catch up on then we thought we might.”

“Yes.” Nabooru lifted her spear, confusion clear in her gaze. “The first thing you can tell me when we get to camp is: where is our King?”

-

Zelda admitted to herself that she huddled under the cloak she’d been given to protect her from the sun—she did not perhaps miss the unrelenting nature of the desert sun while they were gone.

The Gerudo camp, and there was some relief to know that Hyrule was not completely gone—though more time has passed than Zelda could have thought and that worried her greatly—was small but well organized. There were even a few vehvi staring at them wide eyed through the opening of a tent.

Nabooru, and Gerudo Zelda didn’t recognize, settled in front of them, and Zelda was relieved Nabooru offered them water—so they were guests, not prisoners, at least. The three of them accepted, Midna content to follow their lead, thankfully, and took small sips. If it weren’t rude, Zelda wouldn’t drink at all.

“Tell us what happened,” it wasn’t a request.

Zelda, and Link with hesitant fingers, told them the story, Midna chiming in where appropriate. “...and now…” Zelda blinked back tears. “We don’t know, I’m sorry, Nabooru. For all I know Ghananorv is dead.” It hurt to say, to acknowledge. That she’d barely just begun to forgive him and now there would be no chance for reconciliation. What would become of their peoples treaty without their marriage? She hated even more that she couldn’t just grieve, that she had to think those sorts of thoughts.

Her words set off a whole series of conversations, mainly concerning who would rule with the King dead—Zelda hated they went right to death, but she supposed they were used to their Kings dying young. Ghan living into his twenties was old by their standards, and that made it somehow worse. As well as Sobik missing.

“Sobik is missing?” Perhaps it wasn’t correct for Zelda to grab at Nabooru, but she needed to know. “Please, tell us what happened since we left. It’s...it’s only been a few days for us, not…”

“Almost forty years,” Nabooru finished.

Zelda paled and let her go, Link managing to catch her before she could fall completely. Midna’s fingers felt cool against Zelda’s forehead and she felt like she could breath. “Zelda is right,” Midna continued for her. “By our estimation it’s been less than a week since Zant first invaded your world.”

Nabooru stared at Midna, appraising. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? Though it’s been hard to get any sort of information considering any spies we send in just...vanish, and there are Sheikah running around spying on us.”

“I am,” Midna answered plainly. “I was to be the rightful queen of the Twili, until Zant sided with the one you call Calamity, and overthrew me. I will give you all the information I can on him, and how to withstand the Twilight, but first, tell us what happened.”

“As I said before, it has been forty years. Zant...he came upon us first, with that wave of Twilight, or so the ones who managed to escape tell me, it is a miracle that any Gerudo besides myself have survived at all, considering nearly all of us were there for Din’s day. Home, as well as the Spirit Temple remain encased in Twilight, and if you get close enough, you can hear the wailing of a poe.

“I was nearly caught up in the Twilight myself on my way back to the desert when we felt the quake in Castle Town. As you can see, he didn’t bother to cover all of the desert, considering most of it is uninhabited. But he seems to have covered nearly all the rest of Hyrule, from what we can tell. If there are any other pockets of survivors we haven’t been able to contact them.”

“ What about the Sheikah?” Link asked.

Nabooru sighed. “They seem to be the only ones not affected by this Twilight. I’ve nearly been assassinated three times by them.” She shivered. “Those masks of theirs are...unsettling, not right. But they’ve been trying to destabilize us, as we’re the closest thing to a resistance there is, even though we’re just trying to survive.” She dragged a hand through her hair. “We...had prayed our King would return to us, to help at least reclaim Home and the Temple, but those were clearly childish hopes.”

She stood. “You are welcome to remain with us, though should you choose to go off on your own, I’m not sure we can give you much in the way of supplies. Tonight we will mourn, and pray that the Goddess will be kind and send us Alunshay before another sixty years have passed.” She and the other Gerudo left.

Zelda let herself sag into Link’s hold, feeling drained. Link held her, wrapping her arms around Zelda and squeezing tight. Midna sat nearby, red-orange eyes watching the Gerudo intently. “If we’re going to defeat Zant we’ll have to leave. He’s most likely in this Castle Town, if it’s the closest seat of power.”

“There are other countries. What about Hytopia? Holodrum? Labrynna? Why haven’t they done anything to help us? Or are they trapped under the Twilight too?” Zelda found herself asking.

Midna shrugged. “If they haven’t, they might be praying to whomever they believe in that they’ll be spared. Though I doubt it will be enough.” Her hand shifted to the Mask on her hip. Zelda felt revulsion upon seeing it again. It had caused far too much trouble, and she wished Midna hadn’t kept it as Majora had instructed. Though she feared the punishment of a Goddess, even one Zelda didn’t like, would be worse than keeping it.

“Let’s worry about that tomorrow,” Link finally chimed in. “We should...we should at least take the day to mourn. We might never get the chance again.”

With a sniffle Zelda nodded. “I think…” she swallowed, trying to smooth her voice. “I think if Hyrule has lasted forty years, another day won’t do much worse.” Though she was loathed to enter the Twilight and see what damage had been done.

Midna’s slightly cool hand came to rest between Zelda’s shoulders, pressing firmly against her clothes in comfort. “I wish things had gone differently,” her voice was quiet. “Or at least that I could ease your suffering. To endure the loss of love is never easy. But you are not alone, Zelda.”

“I am not alone,” Zelda agreed hoarsely. Though even with Link she felt alone. 

-

A great fire was lit as the sun began to set, despite her sudden immunity to sunlight, Midna felt grateful as the world began to grow darker.

She did her best to stay out of the way as Gerudo moved closer to the fire. Their voices raised in a song that made Midna’s heart ache. “Our King/ you are never truly gone/ Dear King/ you will return one day/ Blessed King/ rest easy in your Mother’s arms/ Beloved King/ may you lead us into glory soon.”

All fell silent as Nabooru stepped to the fire, seemingly uncaring of the sparks, a knife in her hand. “Though we all know our King, our Alunshay, our Ghananorv, will return to us. We still meet in mourning for he is dead once more, and shall never be again.” Reaching up Nabooru grasped her hair in one hand, the knife slicing through it with ease.

The jeweled piece holding it slipped off as she threw the hair into the fire. Midna obscured her face with magic so one one would see her wrinkle her nose at the smell.

One by one, the Gerudo approached the fire, each one slicing their hair with a knife to add to the fire, even the children, though they sometimes had the help of a parent. Little was said as they did this, though Midna was certain no more needed to be said.

Eventually there seemed to be a veritable sea of hair pieces, as if they were a second offering to their dead king—perhaps it was, Midna didn’t think it would be polite to ask just yet.

The last to approach the fire were Link and Zelda, Zelda’s eyes red-rimmed as she lifted up her own knife and cut through her golden hair, throwing the coil of braid in without a second thought. Link did the same, her short hair making her look quite masculine, which Midna was certain Link might not appreciate; but it was clear the gesture was more important.

Taking a deep breath, Midna closed her eyes. Her hair was different from theirs. More appendage than decoration. Hundreds of generations of magic now just a part of Twili by birth. So to cut it off would be inconceivable—in fact she shivered at the thought. But she could still respect this custom, this expression of grief.

The power inside her practically flew into action. The feeling of pulling her hair into herself, even if temporarily, gave her a different sort of shiver, but she pressed on. Until her hair tickled the tips of her ears. 

The fire began to burn down, the smell of all that burning hair dying with it, thankfully. Midna braved the smell, joining Link and Zelda, who saw her and gave a wan smile. “Your hair…”

“It will be fine,” Midna answered. “I didn’t really cut it off, but it seemed rude to keep it so long. I didn’t know him for as long as you both did, but I miss him too. It seemed only right.” There would be no grave to leave offerings at, after all, or to visit on the holy days. No sign at all he existed, except for the crown, which Zelda held in her hands again.

Link gave a smile and reaching out grabbed Midna’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Midna gave a smile back. There was, she was discovering, a faint insistent pull towards her, but it was fairly easy to ignore, and even forget about. Which didn’t seem to fit with her memory of Link and Ghananorv talking about it.

“Ah.” They both turned their attention back to Zelda, who had pried free the topaz gem that had been in the setting of the crown. She rubbed her thumb over the main facet of the gem, expression mournful. “We should leave tomorrow. I know you wanted to head straight for Castle Town, Midna, but I think we should try to get the war crown from the Spirit Temple first, so Nabooru can actually lead, and if we can clear away the Twilight as well we’ll have allies in a position of strength. Because we’re going to need all the help we can get. None of us can do this alone.” Her expression grew firm.

Part of Midna wanted to argue that it would b e quicker to just head for Zant, cut this occupation off at the head. Though it was likely too dug in at this point for such an idea. Forty years was a long time after all.

“Hopefully if we remove the Twilight, we can also find Sobik as well, the Sages were practically made for this sort of thing, and perhaps she would know about the Twili banishment in the first place,” Zelda continued. “Knowledge will be our friend, the more we know the better equipped we’ll be in the end.”

There was an almost blinding flash of golden light, which faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Zelda stood there, eyes wide. The mark of the Triforce that had been ever present on her hand was now lit by a golden triangle on the bottom left. Her knuckles tightened around the topaz she held, and for a brief moment Midna could’ve sworn she saw faint lightning spark from the gem.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Zelda rolled her shoulders back, looking every inch a princess, despite her plain clothes. “Fuck you,” she enunciated each word sharply. “Fuck you for giving me this when I wanted it least, for taking my own memories from me ,” her voice grew louder, though never became a true shout. “For treating us like puppets when we’re people, who have the right to choose, which you don’t just get to ignore.”

Her anger broke and she was crying again. Link pulled her once more into an embrace, hugging her tightly. Instead of comforting them again, Midna retreated. This was a grief she could not share with them, despite having been ‘chosen’ herself.

Chapter 22: Part 3: The Way of All Things

the second memory is warmth and light, and a rich voice. “All will be well, my son. You will be free.”

then came the world.

-

Zelda woke inside the small tent they had been given, Link’s warm body curled against her back protectively. Reaching up, she touched her right hand with Link’s left, a warm, soft thrum passing through her. So many lives they had fought back evil together, had saved Hyrule, had defeated...Ghananorv.

Her heart ached at all those memories. Perhaps none of the Zeldas who had been blessed before her had loved him, but more than a few had wondered if things could have ended differently. If what Majora had said about Demise being a shard of her son that Din had stolen for reasons unknown, then Zelda wished it had. That Demise had not succumbed to the evil of his parent and forged his own path.

She found herself praying that they wouldn’t come across a shell of Ghananorv, consumed by Calamity and Malice, she would do her best to give him release he deserved, but he also deserved to have had a life of, relative, freedom. To be remembered as himself, and not just another King of Evil like so many of his former selves had been.

It was disconcerting, to know so much of the past, some of it contradicting what she’d been taught in her many classes. Nevermind that she’d had a vision stolen from her, that confirmed—if obliquely—what Majora had told them of the past and Calamity’s goal.

Worse, she found that there was the knowledge in her head to call upon Hylia and get a response, if she so chose. She could just summon Hylia and yell at her for taking the memory. So much could have perhaps been avoided if she’d remembered. She looked down at the back of her hand, clenching it into a fist. Would it have been so bad, to be Zelda the Scarred?

In a way she was, she supposed, though they were emotional and mental scars, and not physical ones. Harder to see than the physical, but no less real. She sighed and curled herself tighter against Link’s body, the warmth of her through her shirt not as pronounced as Ghananorv’s would have been. She hadn’t protested though, when Zelda had asked that they share a bedroll, perhaps she’d needed the comfort of a warm body too.

Link shifted, and her long fingers twitched. “You’re up too early,” she complained.

Zelda huffed. “Not exactly the right sort of thinking for a Hero.” If...If Ghananorv really was dead, never to be seen again, then she supposed it was a blessing that Link didn’t have to kill him herself. Almost a dozen times it had happened, from Demise all the way to Ganondorf in the second Civil War.

Behind her Link stilled. “I didn’t ask to be a Hero, not like that. You can still save people and not have a grand destiny for slaying evil.”

“I know.” Zelda curled her own fingers around Link’s wrist, so they could still converse, but she could offer comfort. “Zant...Zant will be easier,” she said decisively. “But first, I want to get an understanding of the Twilight, and how to remove it. There’s got to be something, and the Gerudo deserve the Home they earned returned to them, to have that choice.”

She could just barely feel Link’s nod against her chin. “I’ll keep you safe, Zelda, don’t worry.”

Pushing herself upright, Zelda shook off Link enough to turn and face her. “Link, I don’t want you to die for me, you know I’ve never wanted that. I want to mourn your death when we’re both old and wrinkled.” How much had changed in the four years since she’d said those words? She stared into Link’s hazel eyes. “I, we, lost Ghananorv, I can’t lose you too.”

Link’s expression was sad as she pushed herself upright, cupping Zelda’s cheek she tugged her closer. Their lips touching in the briefest of kisses. “I’ll try to keep that promise, Zelda, but I might not be able to.”

Her heart ached, why couldn’t she just have this? Why did the things she love keep getting taken from her? It was perhaps too late to renounce being in love with Link, she could just hope the Goddesses would be kind and let her be.

Sighing, Zelda finished sitting upright, shrugging her braid from her shoulder. “I suppose we should see about going to the Twilight, hopefully the Gerudo can spare a horse.” The horse that could've been Ghananorv’s black could hold her and Link easily, probably Midna too, if she didn’t do her shadow hiding trick. Zelda was dreading what they might find in the Twilight after forty years, but that didn’t mean she was going to just leave it be.

For Ghananorv, she’d do it. For his people that he’d loved.

-

The Gerudo, Link was sure, were relieved they didn’t have to arm them and Zelda, too. It’d been hard enough for Zelda to wheedle a horse out of Nabooru. Especially with the camp being a hive of activity as everything was broken down and packed away. Time to move on, for everyone.

Zelda stared at the horse that could’ve been a double for Ghananorv’s black, as if trying to figure out how to get on without inconveniencing anyone for a mounting block—though Link wasn’t sure a mounting block would be enough. No one had been able to tell Link where Epona might’ve gone, the mare seeming to have vanished into thin air, and Link supposed by now she was gone. It felt wrong not to have the chance to say goodbye to her.

“We’re sure that’s a horse, right?” Midna sounded bemused. “It looks more like...a dragon mated with a shadow.”

Zelda managed a laugh, and Link felt a brief moment of relief. They walked up to her and held up their cupped hands in clear gesture. She gave them a wan smile and lifted her foot to rest in their hands. It was easy enough to lift her onto the horse after that.

Link took a few large steps back, and took a running start, grabbing the pommel at the last second and using their momentum to lift them up and onto the saddle, Zelda letting out a brief sound of surprise in front of them. Reaching around her, Link grabbed the reins and tapped the horse lightly with their shoes to get it to walk.

Midna caught up easily, floating next to them. “How are you able to stay in the sunlight?” Zelda asked, clearly looking for something of a distraction while they rode.

“I’m not quite sure,” her hand fell to the Mask as they rode out of the camp. “Perhaps it is a blessing from my Lady.”

 

If Zelda wanted to keep talking, Link put an end to it, kicking the black into a gallop, sending them shooting across the sands. It was going to be a long enough ride back to Home as it was.

Indeed it took them most of the day, only stopping once at an oasis they found to let the horse, and them, drink. Eating a few strips of dried meat and fruit Link had managed to steal from the camp. They arrived at the edges of...Twilight, Link supposed, as true twilight was beginning to fall around them.

It was a murky, impenetrable barrier. Nothing beyond it visible at all, not even the shape of the walls or the Temple. The three of the stared at it in silence for a moment, and a high, thin wail began somewhere beyond the barrier, all the hairs on Link’s body standing up.

Seemingly unafraid, Midna approached the barrier, her hair reappearing to touch it, the magic warping and shifting at the contact. “I can get us in,” she declared. “Though I doubt it will be comfortable for either of you. We should leave the horse, it will only get in the way.” She turned back to them. “It’s neither here nor there if we go in now, or later, so I’ll leave it up to you.”

“We should at least take a brief nap,” Link said. They were mostly fine, but it would be good to get their energy back up.

Zelda gave a nod. “Midna, will you take watch and wake us in a few hours?” 

Midna nodded. “Just don’t ask me to brush down that horse.” Her nose wrinkled. “How can you ride that thing?”

Zelda turned her head and shared a look with Link, who huffed. Horses weren’t that bad. They did feel bad though that they wouldn’t be able to give it a proper meal like it deserved. Hopefully they could cleanse Home of Twilight, and the stables would give it all the reward it deserved.

Link climbed off first, helping Zelda. They took off their traveling cloaks and used them as blankets and pillows to nap in, the desert already beginning to cool as they fell asleep.

-

Midna woke them as promised. She even accepted the brief sips of water and bites of food they offered her. Internally bracing herself for what was to come.

As they settled the horse, Midna closed her eyes and concentrated, murmuring a spell under her breath. In a heartbeat she was transformed again, but at least this time her magic wasn’t bound as well. Link and Zelda both gave her surprised looks when they saw she was a child again. “Just in case Zant or one of his cultists are in there, I don’t want them to know quite yet what I’m capable of.” Running a hand over the Mask at her hip, it vanished from view.

Zelda gave a slow nod. “I suppose that’s for the best.” She clenched her own fist, the Triforce mark glimmering. “Too bad I can’t hide this.”

“I know right?” Link’s exasperation was clear.

They followed Midna right up to the Twilight barrier and she took a deep breath. “Okay.” She hoped this would work. That they didn’t turn into bodiless spirits trapped there forever. Another deep breath and she sent up a prayer to Majora. With hands and hair she touched the barrier sigils forming, her hair reached back, snatching up Link and Zelda, who gave cries of surprise. “Ha!” The world flashed dark around them.

When it faded they were in the Twilight and Midna found herself breathing easier, it wasn’t the same as home, but it was better than Hyrule or Termina. She turned to Zelda and Link, grateful to see they were still in human form.

Her relief was short-lived. For they both cried out, doubling over in pain. “This didn’t happen before.” Midna found herself panicking, reaching for them with magic to try and help, but they seemed...slippery, escaping her every time she almost made a connection.

Their bodies began to contort and change and Midna stood by, helpless.

When it was over, they were at least still alive, which Midna supposed was better than dead. Link was the first to recover, giving themselves a shake, only for their hazel eyes to widen as they looked upon their new shape.

Strangely she found herself reminded of the Golden Wolf, though Link’s coloring was more...natural, she supposed, all dark grays with paler markings. They even still had the emerald earrings they’d been wearing, which looked a little ridiculous on a wolf.

A mournful sound came from Zelda, and Midna turned her attention to the other woman...owl now, she supposed. Her colors were even paler than Link’s, making her indigo eyes that much more startling.

“Well,” Minda finally spoke, floating in front of the two of them. “This is not what I expected to happen.”

Link opened their mouth, but it seemed whatever had transformed them couldn’t give them their voice back. Nor could it give a wolf the ability to roll their eyes, from the look of it.

Zelda shuffled awkwardly, ground movement not easy for her. Midna felt a strange golden probing in her mind, and Midna let it through, Zelda’s voice filling her mind. “I’m not sure I want to know how it happened, but hopefully it’s temporary.”

“Yes,” Link’s ‘voice’, and strange to think they had a voice. “I quite like being a person.”

Minda found a smirk crossing her face. “Well, as the only person with opposable thumbs, I guess that means I’m in charge.”

Zelda and Link didn’t seem to find this as funny as she did. Midna huffed. With a wave of her hand she made a breeze to lift Zelda up so she could fly, while Midna herself moved to sit on Link’s back—who turned their head and gave her a look. “It’ll be faster this way,” she told them.

“Right,"  sarcasm filled their voice. But they didn’t argue it further.

“Where are we going?”  Minda asked, above them Zelda got more air, hopeful searching for something worth investigating. Everything was familiar to Midna, and yet not. The dissonance making her uncomfortable in a way she’d never experienced before.

“The Temple is this way,” Zelda began flying to the left, and Link leapt to follow. It was easy to forget time again they travel, the unending sameness of the Twilight making the idea of minutes and hours, even days, pointless.

The problem, Midna found herself realizing, was it was far too quiet. No animals sounded, and there were certainly no voices. They passed a group of white balls, and Midna could just barely make out the shape of the people they used to be. So at least there were some still alive, which would be a relief to Zelda and Link she was certain. If they had stuck around and she had focused, she likely could have heard them talking, believing themselves still alive and in their time, but that just seemed like a futile action in the grand scheme.

So they rode on, next time she'd point the spirit orbs to them, let them see the people still alive, but for now their focus needed to be on other things.

The temple, when they got to it, was eerie and lovely in a way that resonated with Midna. This sort of place didn’t exist in her home, but it would fit right in if it did.

“Hold out your arm,” Zelda said. Landing on it when Midna did so, she was heavy, but it wasn't as if Zelda could fly inside a building very well, Midna supposed.

Tatters of a fabric awning—such a waste—beaconed them inside, and carefully Link answered the call. Inside it was even darker, and silent. “There are public chambers and royal ways as well, the War Crown is likely in one of those, but I’m not sure we can access them without Ghananorv…” Zelda’s head did a near circular turn. “This is the outer sanctum, and I can get us into the inner one, but I don’t know how we can get into the King’s areas.”

“We do what we can, and hopefully magic and knowledge can get us the rest of the way,” Midna answered. “Where do we go?”

It was slow going, the three of them could see somewhat in the dark, but it wasn't perfect, and Midna was loathed to summon a light in case some of Zant’s Cultists were around. Eventually though, they made it, and Midna found herself suitably impressed as she looked up at the beautifully carved and painted statue.

“ The Goddess of the Sands, the Gerudo aspect of Din,” Zelda explained.

Link sniffed, head shifting from side to side. “ Something was here. Something...not human. Almost...dead? ” They sounded confused by their own assessment.

Midna frowned. “Like the living dead?” Though it wasn’t as if Link had the chance to smell those while they were in Termina. “Where?” Without thinking Midna found herself reaching for the Mask, a comforting warmth filling her at the feel of the old wood beneath her fingertips. She blinked and she could...see something. Her body jerked in surprise, hand leaving the Mask and the whatever it was faded.

A breeze picked up around Midna as Zelda flapped her wings to keep her balance. “Midna?”

“Sorry, I...I touched the Mask for a moment, and something happened.” Taking a deep breath she tried it again. This time she wasn’t surprised when the strange... glittering trails reappeared. “They looked like...I don’t know.” She looked around trying to get a better sense of them. “They seem to be mostly focused on the statue, but there are some off that way.” She pointed towards a portion of the wall covered in a mural of an oasis.

“That’s where the scent seems to have gone,” Link says. Which is...interesting.

Zelda let out a hoot. “ Well, we’re not going to figure out what it is by standing around and talking about it,” her tone was dry. “But be careful.”

Link began to walk, and Midna hummed briefly to herself. The magic inside her leaping at the chance to be used, covering them in a shimmery barrier of magic. “Smart idea.” Zelda ruffled her feathers. “Though I’m not sure how we’re going to defend ourselves if we’re attacked. ”

A valid point. “I have magic, but that’s not going to do much good against everything we might come across.” In her home world, at least, there were creatures immune to magic now. Was there anything like that in Hyrule?

Zelda bobbed her head, which Midna was going to take as a nod. “If you know how to use a sword, we should have given you one before we came in here. Hopefully there’s a next time to fix that.”

Hopefully.

They reached the wall and Midna floated off Link’s back, putting a steadying spell on Zelda so she could keep her balance as they examined the wall. As a test of sorts, Midna put her hand on the Mask again, the glittery trails seeming to focus on one point in particular. She memorized it, then moved her hand to point it out. “Do either of you see anything there?” She couldn’t but perhaps she just didn’t have the right eyes.

“Yes!” Zelda answered. “There’s a Triforce! It’s been hidden by the paint, but it doesn’t surprise me, the Gerudo were originally only part of Hyrule for a very brief time, even before the Civil War that the last Gerudo King helped incite. But the Sages of long ago built the Temples, and left ways for those who were blessed or who knew the right song, to pass.” She fluttered her feathers again, this time almost embarrassed. “Sorry, I just... know so much now. Um, I’m not sure how well I can sing like this. This is how it goes, Midna . It should work... ” Not the most assured of thoughts.

It was like having a song get stuck in your head, in a weird sort of way. Midna dutifully hummed along, and was relieved that a golden glow emerged from the hidden Triforce, beating back the Twilight, just for a moment. The hidden panel disappeared into the wall, revealing a tunnel that, thankfully, didn't lead down.

Zelda looked even more awkward as they entered the narrow tunnel, her feathers puffing as she tried to make herself as small as possible. If they were attacked here, it wasn’t going to end well.

Midna’s assessment about the tunnel leading down, she discovered, was somewhat wrong. It was a gentle slope, instead of a sharp drop, but even so it didn’t seem to go down far.

Thankfully it emptied quickly, revealing a large, low ceilinged room. With yet another statue of the Goddess, this one smaller than the outer one. In front of the statue was a strange sheen of white, the source, Midna realized, of the glimmery trails. Whatever it was almost looked like a person the longer Midna looked at it. But that didn’t make sense, how could a human have lived here for forty years and not become a spirit orb like the others?

Zelda let out a questioning sound, which echoed off the walls until it became almost deafening.

The...person shifted, rising up, and up, and up. They turned and Midna blanched. “Poe!” Link’s voice rang out in her mind.

Midna didn’t know what those were, but none of her liked this hollowed-out woman, who’s white eyes widened at the sight of them, a wail rising up from her throat. The same sound they’d heard outside the Twilight.

She streaked towards them, claw-like hands emerging from the white robe encasing her. “Find it’s lantern!” Zelda’s voice rang in their heads as they scattered to try and escape the poe. “Put it out!” Easier said then, done, Midna thought.

Heat filled her body, and a heartbeat later the golden wolf emerged from her. It’s own ghostly hackles standing on end for a moment. Instead of attacking the poe like Midna thought it would, it ran straight for Link, it’s body passing through, and not leaving, theirs. Hazel eyes glowed, and with a snarl, Link lunged.

How to help? How to help? Midna raced through everything she knew about the dead. Zelda, managing to get some air, was trying to dive at the poe, but it was too insubstantial for either her, or Link to do much. Zelda had mentioned a lantern, Midna began to frantically look around.

Nothing here looked like a lantern, even when Midna flew close to the statue and around it, just in case. Zelda had seemed so sure that was how to do it though.

In desperation, Midna reached for the Mask again, this time going so far as to put it on. She blinked and the world was different, full of so many colors and streams of magic.

Looking directly at the poe, Midna sees nearly unending white, and in the center, where her heart should have been, there was a pit of darkness. “There’s something in her chest!” Midna called out. “Try attacking it.”

Link lunged, and Midna found herself following, her hair bursting from her scalp to worm its way into the poe’s chest. The strands wrapped around something at about the same time Link’s jaws clamped around it. Together they yanked and the poe and the thing...which looked like a large shard of glass, separated.

The poe solidified into a Gerudo woman in white, and when she hit the ground of the temple the Twilight began to...fade away. And even though Midna preferred it to daylight, she found herself relieved.

Cries of pain sounded behind Midna, and she turned to see Link and Zelda writhing on the floor again. The golden wolf burst from Link, returning to Midna, and soon after they were their normal human shape again. Link managed to roll onto their hands and knees, vomiting and shaking. Zelda didn’t seem to have as adverse a reaction, granted she hadn’t had a second spirit inside of her. But she did groan, clutching her temples as if in pain. Removing the mask, Midna went to them, humming a bit of healing magic at each of them, which thankfully seemed to help.

After another minute the both of them had managed to stand, though their legs trembled, Midna shifted her hair to support them, in case they fell. Which Zelda promptly ‘escaped’ by rushing to the woman. “Sobik!”

The woman appeared unmoving, and Zelda quickly checked her over, heaving a sigh of relief.

Link clapped their hands, drawing attention back to them. With a jerk of their head they indicated the glass shard. “What do we do with that?”

Minda floated over, picking it up gingerly with her hair. It was darker than she’d initially thought, and the longer she stared at it, the more she realized she’d seen it somewhere before. “This is...oh, from the Mirror! Zant must have broken off a piece so it would be harder to travel back and forth.” She rolled her eyes. “Not that it was easy in the first place. Maybe if we put it back we could...get help from my people who aren’t worshiping the ground Zant walks on.”

“That’s a good idea,” Zelda glanced over at the woman, Sobik? “But first I want to try and get Sobik awake so we can get the War Crown, and get her back to the rest of the Gerudo.

Midna tucked the mirror shard away. “Good. Then let’s get started.”

-

Mother looks over the now empty field. “It goes too slowly.”

The grunt Demise gives is neither agreement nor denial. “Perhaps we should retrieve my sword. Anything will help, yes?” It would be good to be armed again after so long without it also.

Her eyes fly through so many different colors, before settling on copper like his own. “Yes. And it would be good to check on the other field of battle, see how it goes.”

Something in him twinges at the thought, but he cannot tell what.

Chapter 23: Part 3: The Way of All Things

he does not claw his way out of the earth, as later stories would suggest, but he was made from the earth: obsidian and basalt, and the fire of magma. there are Gorons made of rock, but he is something different, and all can tell, and all fear, for he doesn’t know these people, how to act around them.

still he finds a part of himself seeking, trying to find something. something that will help him, though with what, he does not know.

he’d thought it could be found in Hylia. She thought otherwise.

hindsight makes it obvious: that the Goddesses who made her filled her with too much light, too much light. she could wage war, but could not conceive that it might be her enemy that knew her best of all, that the balance for so much death sown was the act of making life. he was so near death that anything that could make him feel alive was welcome.

he dies, though could one die when one was never truly alive?

warmth surrounds him. we will try again, better this time.

-

Link felt sore, even long after they’d found the Gerudo again, thanks to a tracking spell from Zelda, and given them the good news.

It was as if their body couldn’t recover from the transformation, not fully. Or perhaps the idea of it happening again just made them tired. Especially if it involved merging with the old Hero. Link shuddered.

Out of all the experiences, that was the one they least wanted a repeat of. To be remade in an image they didn’t want was unthinkable, something they wanted to reject outright. What was worse, was that the Hero didn’t seem to care. Had he not once felt as Link did? That they were not the firm boxes Hyrule tried to put around people.

Or had being dead for so long removed their memories of that?

Had any other Hero been like Link? Or were they the only one? They felt...strangely sad, if that was the case. Worse if they imagined that other Heroes had felt something was wrong, but hadn’t been able to figure out what. So perhaps living among the Woods, with a mother that supported them, and discovering the Gerudo had the concept, if Hyrule did not, had been the best possible outcome.

“Link?” Zelda’s voice came through the other side of the tent. “Are you alright?”

Grunting they shifted and opened the tent flap, gesturing for Zelda to enter. “Nabooru wants to move everyone back to Home tomorrow, or at least those that want to live there again. I...think it’s going to be hard, for them to account for the last time between the two groups. Sobik looks like the daughter now, not the mother.” She let out a joyless laugh.

Link could only nod. Zelda tilted her head, bird like. “You’ve done that before, with the last Hero. He started out a child, then spent seven years asleep in the Sacred Realm, returning to find the world deeply changed.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what that would be like, though I guess now I will know.”

Link shrugged. It wasn’t as if they remembered the past, not like Zelda apparently now did. But it certainly didn’t make their feelings about being so different from the others any better. Zelda’s hand on their shoulder focused them, the warmth of it comforting. “Are you alright?”

“Not really,”   they finally answer. “Feel all out of sorts and tired. Be so nice if I could just sleep for a week.”

Zelda’s laugh had a bit more humor in it. “No luck, I’m afraid. Though I wish I could give you that, you deserve it.” She sighed. “I felt so useless, even with magic. Owls can’t sing, or hum, and I know they’re Nayru’s animal, but how can I use magic without song? I feel like it was a miracle I managed to get the mental connection going.” Another sigh. “Though I think...I might be able to retain my human form next time, I guess we’ll find out.”

“I just hope next time doesn’t involve me merging with the other wolf again, that was…” Link shudders.

“I’m sorry.” They let her pull them into a hug. “Now that I can’t imagine. The last Zelda disguised herself as a man, but that’s not the same thing as you.” As if afraid of their reaction, she hesitantly kissed their cheek. “I’m here for you though, Link, however you might need me.”

Link pulled away enough for Zelda to see their smile. “Maybe...some magic? I feel sore.”

“I can do that.”

-

Zelda felt refreshed the next morning, carefully shaking Link awake before exiting their tent and joining a few other Gerudo for breakfast. They were packing up camp again, though this time there was a more joyful, hopeful mood to the proceedings. To have given them that was a relief, though she knew it couldn’t make up for the loss of their king.

Midna found her in the middle of eating and practically threw herself into the spot next to Zelda. Zelda rolled her eyes fondly, warm camaraderie filling her. “Yes?” She wondered absently if Midna needed to eat at all, because she never seemed to when food was being served.

“I was thinking we should try and find that place where the mirror was before, today.” She reached into nothing and produced the shard that had been inside Sobik. “So we can put this back, and assess whatever other damage was done to it. Zant shouldn’t be able to shatter it fully, I hope, even with Calamity’s help he shouldn’t be powerful enough.”

“Calamity?” Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Not the Mad God?”

Midna sighed. “I believe Majora’s story, which means he was never mad in the first place. I guess the Nameless God would work, too. Though she always referred to them as an ‘it’ and not a ‘he.’” Her lips quirked in a smile. “So I am in a sort of linguistic/religious quandary. But that’s neither here nor there.” She waved a hand.

“There’s likely to be Twilight around it, even if the Mirror is damaged. Zant wouldn’t want to give up control of that place if given the choice. Which means you animal shapes again. Though I...might have a solution.”

“Oh?” Footsteps sounded behind Zelda, and she glanced behind her to see Link, and she gave them a sunny smile. Link managed one back, and grunted in thanks as a Gerudo passed them a plate of food.

Midna nodded. “There are spells that can be...imprinted upon the body, like a living tattoo, that can help you resist the Twilight. I’m not sure how long they’d last before I’d have to do them again, but it’s better than nothing. But if you do agree to it, it might take a whole day to do the working.”

“Ah,” Sobik’s voice floated over to them, interrupting their conversation. “Here you are.” She sat across from the three of them. “Thank you, for rescuing me.” A hesitant Gerudo voe approached, and Sobik waved her off. “I don’t need a nursemaid right now, dear, though thank you for the worry. If it makes you feel better, you can go complain to Nabooru.” The voe sighed, and departed. Sobik rolled her eyes. “My people have been so long without a Sage, I don’t think they know how to act around me,” her voice turned sad.

She sighed, then shook her head. “If you are leaving, then I should tell you of what happened to me, and the other Sages, first.” She took a deep breath. “I was in the Temple when the...Twilight, you said it was called?, hit. Which did seem to protect me from being turned into a spirit orb, though I could feel it happening to the people in Home, and when I rushed out to try and save them, I was snatched up by Zant and those...things. I put up a fight, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“We were all brought to Hyrule Castle, which was guarded by Sheikah, and into the throne room, where your father still sat, Zelda, unaffected by the Twilight, but clearly Zant’s puppet King.” She snorted. “Not king of much but death and Twilight, and what sort of Kingdom is that?” She shook her head again to focus herself. “Zant grabbed something that looked like glass, but my magic Sight showed it to be...a void.”

“This?” Midna asked, drawing the shard from wherever she’d stored it.

Sobik nodded. “Yes, he had another minion carrying them, a whole stack. He took one and he...drove it into Sage of Shadows, bending over to whisper something in her ear, who began to contort, though whatever happened to her I did not see the end of, for Zant did something and she was transported out of the throne room. One by one, we were all subjected to this...punishment. I was the last. As he drove the shard into me he bent over like the others. ‘Though you were not there when they were, you are still complicit in their crimes, and you will suffer the same punishment. You once abandoned us, now you will protect us, and guard the Twilight.’ I was transported like the others, and my last thought was relief that I was back in the Spirit Temple, not that it’s powers did me much good.

“So that is what happened, what you must face. I am sorry we could not do anything to stop him.”

Zelda shook her head. “We don’t blame you, Sobik, or any of the other Sages. How could you have stood against him? Especially considering none of us remembered the Twili.” She did now, though the memories were the haziest: being Hylia and fighting the war against Demise, how the Twili had forged the Master Sword, and Demise’s own. Though she’d had no knowledge of their fate, and had not thought to ask, not that any of the Sages seemed to have survived the banishing of the Twili.

“And Zelda,” Sobik’s hands were warm around her own. And Zelda found her Triforce mark glowing softly under the Sage’s touch. “I do not blame you for what happened to my son. I, I am sad that Ghananorv was not destined to live the life he deserved to, but he lived a better one than many who came before.” She squeezed her hands. “And I know that he loved you dearly, and did not regret being with you.”

Zelda blinked back tears, leaning back into Link’s hand, which appeared between her shoulder blades. “Thank, thank you, Sobik. For that, and your story.”

Sobik nodded, blinking back her own tears. She squeezed Zelda’s hands one last time and then left them.

Midna took her place. “So, it seems he broke the mirror fully then.” She let out a sound of frustration. “I still want to go back to the place it was locked away in. If that’s alright. I think it might have some useful information perhaps, or something we could use against the Twilight, if possible. We should leave soon, especially since we don’t know how far away it is.”

“I can use the tracking spell again,” Zelda said. “With the mirror shard. I should be able to zero in on the frame of the mirror, and not the other shards. I know where the other temples are.” She’d been to each and every one of them, over various lifetimes. She shivered, knowing some would be harder than others. “Let’s go talk to Nabooru, see what she’s willing to give us this time.”

Nabooru looked the part of War Chief, with the golden spikes of her ‘crown’ haloing her head. She smiled at them and laughed a little when Zelda made their request.

“Much more, I am certain, Zelda. Everyone would bless you if they could, for giving us back Home. But I do not believe you need all that. Certainly we will give you what water and food we can spare, and two horses this time, more fitting ones, unless you want the Black.”

Link nodded. “I can handle her,” they answered. “And you never know when you need a ridiculous amount of force to attack someone with.” 

Nabooru snorted. “Yes, then I’ll let you have her. The supplies will be delivered to your tent shortly.”

“Midna, I think you’re right that we should go today,” Zelda began as they headed back towards the tent. “Since it should only be reconnaissance I think being in our animal forms should be alright.” If mildly painful. “But perhaps when we get back to Gintu you can do your markings? I think I personally can keep myself human the next time we go in, but it would prevent me from using any more magic.” An option she sorely needs.

A nod. “Then lets go have our little adventure.”

“Just make sure this time your wolf stays with you,” Link grumbled.

-

Daylight turns to darkness as Demise steps from naggingly familiar desert into cool Twilight—though the desert landscape still tugs at him, he knows these places, has been here before. Even if he does not yet remember.

Not that that changes anything. His sword is here, it’s call clear to him despite the realms separating them.

He ducks under a lintel made for mortals, there is much death here, in this place. It welcomes him like a lost lover. The bodies and spirits eager to follow his bidding, whatever it may be.

“Find my sword,” he grunts. The dead scatter, covering far more ground far more quickly than he could, even as a God. “We are not limitless, my son, we are bound by rules, same as anyone. Ours are just...different.” Her palm is warm against his cheek. “Being Death gives you more freedom than most, but even you must bow to the edicts of the universe.” 

He shakes off his mother’s words, believing them, but disliking them all the same.

This way, this way, yes, oh Great Demise, the spirit simpers. Clearly expecting a great reward for it’s efforts.

Following it takes him through winding corridors, and more than a few places where he has to shrink or shift himself to get through. Spirits not having to worry about physical concerns. Nor do they have to worry about enemies, and Zant and his followers are enemies.

Granted, Demise need not worry overmuch about them either. For when he encounters them, they die at the briefest of touches. He his death and none can escape him, even those transformed by Calamity and it’s Malice.

Eventually they reach a cavernous space, finally something that does not constrain his godly form, in the center of which is embedded his sword. Surrounded by sacred wards, as if that would stop him.

They sizzle and hiss, but their magic is ineffective against him. Perhaps if he were lesser, they would stop him, as it is they...tickle. The last one fades away with an angry sigh. Reaching out Demise wraps his fingers around the hilt, his magic surging into it as they are connected once more.

It feels, somewhat, like coming home. The thought makes him tilt his head, not quite knowing where it came from. Yet it is his thought, sure as anything.

With ease he pulls the sword from the ground.

He could keep it like this, he knows, and perhaps it would be easier, but he finds himself wishing a...companion, other than his mother. This is a space inside him, missing something he does not know. Perhaps Giraham will fill it.

Another pulse of magic, and the sword becomes a man.

“Master!” Giraham bows with a flourish. “You returned! But how?”

Demise grunts and turns. “My mother,” he answers plainly. “Come, we have work to do. Calamity must be subdued, and old wrongs made right.” Instead of returning the way he came, he begins to climb the wall, finding a large window that he can fit through.

“Calamity? Mother? Master, I do not know what you speak of? What of subduing Hyrule, defeating Hylia and that skybrat,” acid drips from Giraham’s lips.

Another grunt. For a moment Demise lets himself stare across the landscape, recalling the events which Giraham speaks of. “No, no longer.” He shakes his head. “The world, I am, different than what you remember. It has been many thousands of years since you were locked away, my sword.” Reaching out he grabs Giraham’s face, and with a thought he shares his memories with the sword.

“Well,” Giraham’s voice is strained. “That is quite different.” He straightens, and flicks his hair back, as if unruffled. “I should still hope we come across the skybrat, fighting with him and Bluebird was almost fun.” He gives a little sigh.

Dust rises from the sand a distance away. Demise narrows his eyes, the distance melting away. A wolf, a woman, and a child? Something inside him urges him to meet them. How does he know them? He jerks his chin towards them. “Go see what that is.”

“Yes, Master.” With a flash of diamonds, Giraham is gone.

-

Link truly hates this wolf shape. Especially now with Zelda trying to keep herself in human shape, they cannot even converse mind to mind. They are trapped in a way even being mute had not trapped them. A glimmer of gold, flares around Midna, as if the wolf inside her seeks to join with them again, and they bare their teeth. No, if they must suffer through this shape, they won’t be trapped even further if they can help it.

The gold subsides as if it can sense Link’s thoughts, and they continue on. The black Zelda rode on not seeming to care that it traveled with a wolf—granted if it came down to a fight, Link would put their money on the horse. Link might have teeth, but she had likely half a ton on them in weight, and no amount of teeth could make up for that.

“I think that’s the building,” Zelda’s voice rings out over the sound of hooves.

Minda in her child form again, begins to zip forward, only to be stopped by a man in white suddenly appearing in front of them. The black rears and whinnies threateningly. The man’s eyes widen a little and he takes a humorous step back. He does his best to recover, but any sort of intimidation’s been lost. “Well, well, what do we have here?” He gives a little wave. “Hello, little Hylia, so nice to see you again. Where’s the skybrat? Or Bluebird, hmm?”

Whoever this is they smell...strange to Link’s nose. Metallic, and yet somehow sweet. They sneeze, stumbling back a little at the force of it. Which the ‘man’ seems to find amuse, not that he pays Link much more mind than that.

“Giraham,” Zelda sounds both tense, and yet happy? “We have no quarrel with you this lifetime. We have far larger problems to deal with.” She gestured to the Twilight. “Or did you think this was normal for Hyrule now?” She arches an eyebrow.

He grins. “Oh, I know it is not, but it is nice to see Hyrule subjected so, even if it is not by the will of my Master.” Words that seemed to strangely make Zelda even happier. “But as entertaining as this conversation is, I was tasked with information only. Anyways,” he flicks his hair. “The fight’s no fun with out bluebird.” With that he vanishes in a flare of diamonds.

“What a rude man,” Midna huffs. “It was like I didn’t even exist.” She crosses her arms and glowers.

“You are in your child shape Midna, it’s far easier to overlook you, I must say. Which is why you change back into it. So I’d say you have no one to blame but yourself.” There’s almost a teasing note to Zelda’s voice, laced with joy.

Frustrated Link trots over and hops up enough to nip, lightly, at her ankle. They would quite like for her to explain why she was so happy, especially over someone Link was half certain wasn’t really a person.

Zelda looks down at them, frowning a little. “What’s wrong, Link?”

“I think I can guess,” Midna didn’t need to make it such a sing song. “They want to know who, by all the stars, was that? And who’s the master he spoke of?” She arches an eyebrow, and Link’s grateful that she got it mostly right.

“Oh, right.” Zelda shook her head. “I forgot for a moment that you don’t remember Link. That, that was Giraham, the self-titled Demon Lord,” she snorted softly. “He is the living sword that the Twili made for Demise. And if he is up and about and referring to his ‘Master,’ that can only be Demise. Which means...Ghananorv is still alive.” She blinked back tears.

Link felt..shocked, worried. Is she right? Or was she deluding herself? Could you do that if you had the Triforce of Wisdom? Never had being unable to speak been so frustrating...perhaps…

It was awkward to try and write in the sand with only a claw, but at least Midna and Zelda both caught on. “What about his Triforce?” Minda read aloud. Her expression, and scent strangely...worried.

“Only mortals can use the Triforce, that’s why we have Hylia’s line, we’re the descendents of the First Hero...though could you really call him the first when there was one before him?...I digress, the descendents of the First Hero and the First Zelda, the mortal form of the Goddess Hylia. She gave up her mortality to be able to access the power in order to defeat Demise.”

Zelda sighs. “So if Majora did something to restore his godhood, then it’s likely it required him to give it up. Though that leaves the question of where it went…”

“About that…” Midna looked almost bashful, a foot scuffing the empty air below her. “I...might have gotten it.” She twisted her right hand and golden light flared, the familiar symbol appearing. “I just...I didn’t want to be the one who gave you absolute proof he was dead .” She sighed. “Which sounds selfish when I say it, but it's the truth. I thought it might make your grief worse if you knew.” A shrug, and the light and symbol disappeared. “I was planning on telling you, I could just never find the right moment.”

Link felt hurt, but in a way they understood, and they couldn’t exactly throw stones, considering how long they’d kept their own Triforce hidden. Which didn’t make them feel better about this, but it did force them to understand, enough.

Zelda gave a wan smile. “I understand, Minda, and I forgive you.” She glanced at Link. “Though you two might need a talk when Link can converse again. I am sorry we made you feel like you had to hide it from us. But if he is a God again...well, he won’t exactly need it.” Her brows furrowed. “If we could track Giraham it would be so much easier to find them. Something must have happened if Ghananorv hasn’t come back to the Gerudo, to us.”

She had a point there, one Link didn’t quite want to think about. Because the reason he might not have come back was because he was under Calamity’s control again, and they might have to find a way to defeat him once more. Link’s stomach turned at the thought of that being true.

Another sigh from Zelda. “We...we can figure it out later. Right now we should go look at the mirror like we planned. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll find us, though what we’ll do when that happens...” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just once I’d like a simple problem,” she muttered to herself as she climbed off the horse. “‘Zelda, can you figure out a new method of irrigation’, or ‘Zelda, help make a peace treaty between these three warring countries,’ not ‘Zelda, figure out how to get your betrothed back from a God.’” She continued to mutter as she headed towards the building.

Link managed to catch Minda sniggering as they began to follow. Link could only manage a soft chuff, and sending up a brief prayer that things turned out alright…

-

“Well?” Demise asked in the half-second before Giraham reappeared.

“Hylia’s get,” he answered as he bowed. “Though no sign of the skybrat...though I guess if no one’s living in the sky anymore can he be that? Hmmm, landbrat doesn’t really have the same ring to it, does it?”

“Giraham,” Demise kept his tone patient. Knowing well his sword had a penchant for going on unless reminded. “Anything else?”

“She named herself not our enemy, and seemed almost happy,” Giraham made a face. “When I mentioned you. Though I guess if she’s focused on saving Hyrule from this,” he gestured. “And Zant is allied with Calamity, then she’s right? Also she was traveling with a wolf, and a strange looking child.”

Demise grunted. Curiouser, and stranger still. Giraham’s assessment was right, though, they fought Zant while he fought Calamity, making them not enemies. A bemusing thought, they had been against each other for so long, would the Hero just strike first and ask questions later should Demise appear? Hmm, likely. Links tended to be an impulsive lot.

“Should we go after them, Master? Stop them now, before they become a thorn in your side once more?”

“No,” she shook his head in emphasis. “If our enemy fights on two fronts he must split his forces. Better we let them keep harrying Zant, keep him away from a distracted Calamity.” He flexed his hand, and Giraham was a sword once more. “Come, we have a war to fight.”

Notes:

elmofiregif.exe

Also as a heads up, I'm going to be switching to posting new chapters every other week. I want to give you all the best story I can, and feeling rushed to finish new chapters (sometimes a day or two before I need to publish them) isn't the best environment for that. Hopefully I can get ahead enough again to go back to weekly, but for now see you in July!

Chapter 24: Part 3: The Way of All Things

Zelda found herself in a haze as they entered Home, Gerudo calling welcomes as they passed. Like they had thought, the Twilight Mirror had been broken, but not shattered. So they needed to face off against the Sages to win them back, and likely remove the Twilight from an area.

Overshadowing, ha, all of that thought was Demise. Perhaps he was their enemy again, but the fact that he was not just an extension of Calamity gave her some home that if that was the case, he could be pulled free again. And if he was his own...well then perhaps the part of him that was Ghananorv could be the same. To be able to give the Gerudo their King back would be a weight off her shoulders.

Short haired vuenvi met them at the stable, taking the Black and greeting her as if no time had passed at all. She guessed that was the truth, for both of them in a way. Another reason to feel guilt over the Gerudo, that they were broken by a divide of forty years.

Perhaps she should go see Sobik and Nabooru, give her...report, of sorts, tell them what they discovered.

But she couldn’t, not yet, she...she didn’t know what she needed. Which didn’t stop her from heading to her rooms—now she found herself strangely grateful that Ghan gave her rooms of her own, because she didn’t think she could stand being in his, for all that she’d spent more time there.

“Midna, can you make sure Link and I aren’t disturbed?” Zelda asked at the door.

Which earned her raised eyebrows. “Alright,” Midna agreed. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” the other woman teased.

Zelda huffed and rolled her eyes. Grateful that Link was quiet as they entered. Once the door was closed Zelda dragged herself to the bedroom, falling onto the bed she couldn’t recall ever using. Link hesitantly sat next to her. Their fingers floating into view. “Zelda?”

“I’m okay Link, “she answered. “I just...need some time to process.” She rolled onto her side so she could see them better.

“Are you sure he really is alive?” Link’s words are cautious, as if they can’t quite believe it. She could understand their hesitation, better to accept the reality that he might be gone, than to have hope that he might be alive, then have it dashed.

She curled up on herself. “I...I’m mostly sure. All the things I said in the Twilight are true. Giraham wouldn’t just call anyone Master, he thinks too highly of himself.” Her shoulders hunch. “If we could see then I would know for sure.” But who knew when that would be. “Mostly I’m...I’m scared.”

Link lay down beside her, pulling her into a hug. “I’m not sure I know how to deal with this new Link who isn’t as distant.” She’d never doubted they were friends, but Link always kept to themselves, just a little.

They huffed, and she stilled when she felt their lips press against her cheek. “Link…” They’d shared a bed these past few nights, but that was just sleeping together. They hadn’t kissed beyond that brief one, or touched beyond hugs. The memory of them kissing Ghan flared to life in her mind, not exactly unwelcome.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Link said, seemingly out of nowhere, when they pulled away. “Losing him … ” Their hands stilled, as if hesitant to admit. “Maybe I just don’t want to go on not knowing what might be because I’m…" They huffed again. Then shrugged, as if ‘what’ they were wasn’t important. Perhaps to Link it wasn’t.

Hesitantly she reached out and touched their cheek, the skin rough from the wind and sun. “What do you want then?” Some part of her still insisted this was wrong, even if she and Ghan had never married. If he was still alive than she needed to be faithful to him, because that was what a Princess was supposed to be; her reputation unquestionable. Yet there was now the weight of so many lives, pushing her towards them in a way. Nevermind that they had been her best friend and someone she did truly love.

“You,” Link finally answered. “ If he’s still alive...I don’t know. Maybe?” They rolled their eyes. “Which I’m sure he’ll take smug delight in.” Zelda rolled her eyes right back, knowing it to be true. “I guess I’ve kissed people, but never...really got farther than that. Easier to kiss people no matter which Link I am, than figure out sex.”

That did make a certain sort of sense, Zelda supposed. “Does it bother you, when you’re not a man?” Zelda was likely sure that it said something about her that she had the memories of thousands of years, and bore the Triforce of Wisdom, but saying the word ‘penis’ was something she couldn’t do. In the heat of the moment she could manage all sorts of filthy words, but like this? No, not at all.

A shrug. “Not really, it’s just a part of me, whatever I feel I am. I think having vuei helps with that, sort of.” Another shrug. “I’m not sure I can explain it better than that.” 

“Do you want sex?” Zelda found herself asking. Strange, it had felt like a given with her and Ghan, and not just from an expectation of heirs one day, either. They’d been drawn to each other like that, and touching him and being touched by him had been...a rush like no other.

“Sometimes,” Link said. “Not all the time like he does.” Link finished with a snort.

“Like right now?” Hesitancy crept into Zelda’s voice. Not quite believing she was asking in the first place.

Link stared at her for a long time, and she let them. Wanting them to know and not just give an answer. “Now could be good,” they almost cut themselves off. Fingers reaching for her to pull her closer. She let them.

This time it felt like a real kiss, all lips and tongue, and a hint of teeth. They just admitted they’d kissed plenty of people, so she shouldn’t have been surprised as she was about them being a good kisser. Her hands buried themselves in the back of their kurta, in their short hair—she found herself absently missing their longer hair.

Theirs dug into her hips as if trying to pull her even closer. She moaned against their lips, rocking against them when they felt that hard heat growing. Her own impatient fingers began to tug on their kurta. “Off,” it came out a demand.

Link flashed a grin at her, but did pull away long enough to remove the kurta and the undershirt, revealing wiry muscles and a host of scars. Reminders that in a way they lead a far different life than she did. Only destiny, perhaps, was the reason they’d even met in the first place, let alone become friends. They were warm as they pushed back up against her, warm enough to make her ache and want . “Link,” she gasped. Burying her face against their neck she scraped her teeth against skin, they let out a strange, jagged sound.

Their fingers began to undo her own kurta, revealing the soft bindings underneath, which Link took far more care in undoing. Rough fingers making her arch and whine as they touched and caressed her. “Yes,” she hissed when they cupped a breast, gingerly brushing the nipple. “Hylia, Link, just like that. Mouth,” she gasped as their touch grew bolder.

Link’s lips felt wonderful against her breasts, a wholly different experience from Ghan. One of her hands buried itself in their hair, while the other scratched up their back, making them grunt.

Despite how wet she was becoming, and how much she enjoyed their touch. She pushed at their shoulders. “Sirwal,” she said firmly. “I want to touch you,” the thought made her pant.

Link obliged, shimmying out of their sirwal, revealing their half-hard...cock. It wasn’t as large as Ghan’s, which honestly relieved her in a way. She ran her hands down Link’s chest, tweaking their own nipples. Link arched under the touches, a bit like a cat. Their fingers shook as she curled her own around their cock. “Zelda…”

“I know what I’m doing, Link,” how strange to say that. “Just, let me know if you don’t like it. Pinch my ears or something.”

They nodded and she ducked her head down, licking a stripe up the shaft and blowing on the tip, carefully peeling away more of the foreskin. A broken sound left Link, and Zelda perhaps felt a bit of pride. She continued to tease them, bringing their cock to full hardness. As a test she took as much of it as she could in her mouth, delighted that she could get almost all of it. She moaned around it before relenting and pulling away. “Good?” Her voice was breathless and a little raspy.

Link gave a shaky nod, eyes wide as if they couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’m going to kiss you,” she told them, moving up and gently pushing her face down towards them, giving Link plenty of time to refuse. They didn’t and she sighed as they kissed again, letting herself linger and enjoy it.

Eventually though, she began to grow impatient. Standing on the bed she stripped off her own sirwal, experiencing a brief bolt of fear as Link took in her naked body. Would they like it? Were her breasts too small? Legs…

Link groaned and grasped at her knee, attempting to pull her back down. She went willingly, grabbing that hand and guiding it up, both their fingers petting her, before she guided one Link’s inside, her own showing them how to move and shift. Link swallowed, hazel eyes dark and glued to the place between her legs.

Zelda shifted her thighs a bit further apart, so they could see better, crying out as she helped Link find her clit. “Link!” Perhaps their inexperience showed, but Zelda didn’t mind teaching, didn’t mind sharing what made her feel amazing, and finding out what did the same in Link. “Close,” she panted. Laughing a little, too used to Ghan where a few orgasms on her end were necessary to even begin.

Link would be a far easier prospect. 

Boldly Link pushed another finger in, and when she moaned, a third. Quickly catching on to the right movements and of course they were good with their hands…

A scream left Zelda as she orgasmed, body going lax against the bed, cunt convulsing around their fingers trying to draw out what could never be there. As she began to come down she shifted to look at Link. “More?”

Their eyes darkened further and they nodded.

“Do you want to be on top, or should I? I guess we could do side by side…” Wet fingers pressed against her lips as Link silenced her. Teasingly she licked them, drawing them into her mouth. Link let out a broken sound. She grinned around their fingers. They rolled their eyes.

She gave them up, eventually. Happily letting Link pin her in retaliation. Reaching up she wrapped her arms around their back and shoulders, dragging them down for another kiss. “I do love you,” she whispered as they broke apart, breath mingling. “Even if Ghan still returns, I’ll love you.”

Instead of signing, Link just mouthed ‘I love you too.”

Heart soaring, which was more of an emotional response than she expected, if she was honest, she opened her legs, letting Link settle between them. They were hot and throbbing and the feeling of them pressed against her made her rock and moan. “Link, please.” She needed it, needed to know them.

They pulled back, just enough to put their cock in the right place and hold steady as they began to push in. Zelda’s nails dug into their skin, legs wrapping around their hips. “Oh, fuck.” It wasn’t the delicious stretch and ache of Ghan, but it was just as good, even when Link groaned and shoved themselves the rest of the way in. Despite the pain, Zelda saw stars.

A scratchy moan left Link, the movement of their hips jerky at first—which Zelda found she enjoyed more than she thought she would—but they eventually became smooth and steady. She trusted they would indicate if things were going bad, even if she didn’t quite know how. She began rocking her own hips, matching their rhythm. “More, Link, more,” she begged.

She felt their snort more than heard it, worn hands grasping her thighs and changing the angle, just a little. But otherwise keeping their steady pace.

A strangled sound of annoyance left her, her legs tightening around their waist. “More, I can’t stand two assholes who do as they please.” Even if Ghan’s was partly by necessity. “I’m not going to break.” Turning her head she bit their shoulder.

Link pulled away, keeping hold of her hips they rose to their knees, dragging her half-up with them. Stars again. “Oh fuck, yes, Link, give it to me, I want to feel you deep inside.”

They began to pick up their pace, driving down into her, punching out sharp gasps from her chest with each thrust. A jagged panting sound came from Link, and she clenched around them every time she heard it. They might not have words, but their sounds, the way they touched her, it was more than enough.

A sharp, cut off sound escaped Link as they stilled, cock twitching before it began to shoot into her. The sensation making her whine and squirm. “So, good,” she panted out. Reaching she managed to wrap her fingers around their wrist, squeezing. “Thank, thank you, Link. I...love you.”

Staying on their knees, Link carefully gathered her up. Cuddling her against their chest and kissing her. When they broke apart they lowered them onto the bed, seemingly content to stay connected with her. Nuzzling their throat and chin, she hummed happily. “Was it good?” It was their first time, and perhaps she was a little nervous. Ghan had done his best to make her first time, regardless of which she considered ‘first,’ good, and she wanted to pass that onto Link.

They nodded, and pulled away a little. “Not...quite what I was expecting. But, yes, good. I, thank you.”

Zelda gave them a warm smile. “You’re welcome,” she cupped their cheek. “Thank you,” she said again. “For trusting me with that. If... when, we get Ghan back will...you do anything with him?” Her cheeks burned and how could she be embarrassed considering what she’d just done?

Link turned as read as she felt, which was something of a relief, honestly. “I don’t know, maybe? I know mechanics but other than that…”

“Ghan said it feels good, um, if you do it right, or so he’d been told. Ah...even if you don’t.” Somehow her cheeks turned redder still. “Do you...remember when you stumbled upon us in the hallway?” She should hope they remember, it was still quite vivid in her own mind.

Eyes wide, they nodded.

Gathering up all the courage she could muster, Zelda continued. “Ghan and I talked about it, afterwards. Oh Hylia, I can’t believe I’m saying this...but he, he said that he hadn’t minded being watched, and I…” she squirmed, heat building in her belly again. “I liked it too,” she finished in a whisper. Her insides twisted themselves into knots. “So even, even if you and he don’t do anything, I think we would both welcome you to watch him and I…” Her cunt clenched around Link at her own words, the mental image too vivid and wonderful.

Link’s eyes were still wide, but at least they didn’t pull away. Their fingers were shaky though, as they brought her in close again for a kiss, this one slow and easy. Then they pulled away again, fingers stumbling over themselves as they spoke. “I...I think I would like that too.” Link’s blush raced down their neck to their shoulders. Could it go further? If this was the feeling Gan had when she blushed, no wonder he enjoyed making her do it. “Can...can we just cuddle, and maybe sleep now?”

“We can,” Zelda agreed quietly. She floated in the happiness she felt for a while, before sleep finally pulled her under.

-

Midna found Link and Zelda in the morning having breakfast in the room she’d left them in last night. Their heads bowed together like trees, sharing a moment. She found herself happy for them, if also a little jealous, and angry. She’d had that, wanted it still, and Zant had to go and ruin it. Bastard.

Shaking the hurt off she cleared her throat, making the two of them jump, and blush like children. “I had thought, if you two were feeling up for it, that we could do the tattoos today, so you have some time to recover before we leave.” She frowned softly. “ Where would we be going next, by the way? How many temples are there left?”

Zelda managed to compose herself first. “There are five other physical temples, not counting the Light Temple in the Sacred realm, and I’m not sure Zant could get to that one, even if he managed to infect the Sage of Light.” She chewed on her lip. “Sobik said she saw my father on his throne...if the line of succession is right, he should be the Sage of Light, it’s...an honorary title more than anything now. I...honestly don’t know what to expect in that regard.”

“And where are the Temples?” Five didn’t sound so bad, with a nebulous sixth potentially waiting in the wings. But it wasn’t as if this were the Twilight where she could go where she pleased.

“Scattered all over, I’d need to see a modern map to figure out exactly where, and maybe an older one too. The last Zelda to travel to all the Temples would have worked off one of those. And back then the Wind Temple didn’t even exist. ” 

Midna frowned. “Can you get those here?” 

After a moment’s thought, Zelda gave a nod. “They have a good archive here. And, well, six hundred years ago the Gerudo were at war with us, I should hope their maps would be relatively accurate, otherwise they would have lost, more than they did…” She drifted off, indigo eyes distant.

Link reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder, which seemed to snap her out of it.

“Neither here nor there,” Zelda waved a hand. “Let me talk to Sobik and Nobooru first, so they can find what we’ll need, and I can ask about a place where we won’t be disturbed, too. Do you need anything, Midna?” She stood, brushing off invisible crumbs perhaps?

Midna shook her head. “I’ll be doing everything with magic.” Though she had no idea how having the Triforce might affect the working. Hopefully it would only make it more potent, and easier in the first place. Maybe when she was finished she wouldn’t feel like she might explode at the first wrong touch.

Zelda looked infinitely curious, but shook her head—probably for the best she didn't get distracted—before leaving them.

Throwing herself into the pile of pillows across from Link, she eyed them. “Anything I should know about you today? What you are won’t change the magic, but it’s always nice to know.”

“He, ” Link answered with a roll of his eyes. After a brief moment of hesitation, he continued. “Can...can you talk to that golden wolf?”

“Not really,” Midna answered. “I can feel it, if I focus, but it’s only supposed to come out when I’m in serious danger.” Though that did make her wonder why it hadn’t made itself known during all the things that had happened involving Zant, barely two weeks ago now. Or forty years, she guessed, depending on who was counting. “Why?”

Link frowned. “It’s talked to me, in dreams. It seems to be the spirit of the last Hero, and back in Termina it was trying to teach me how to fight, so I could kill Ghananorv.” Which clearly hadn’t happened, but Link still looked unsettled.

“There is a legend that the Golden Wolf just...fell from the sky into our world, but he’d never talked about who he was before. And we didn’t really care,” she admitted. “It was a miracle that someone new ended up in our world at all, where he might have come from in the first place was never a question we asked.” She huffed. “We’d long given up on leaving our Twilight realm, now there are many who don’t believe any other realms exist, or that we were created by a divine figure at all.” She gave a small start when she felt Link’s warm hand settle atop of her own, a warm pulse going through her. “Sorry, that’s more than you probably needed to know.”

He smiled back as his hand retreated. “It’s fine, Zelda does that too sometimes. I’m used to it.”

“Certainly not what I thought she and I might have in common, if anything at all.” She did like Zelda, but they seemed to be very different people, which didn’t bother Midna, and certainly didn’t seem to have any bearing on how well they got along.

Link sniggered. Picking up a half-eaten pastry and finishing it off. “Do, do you think we can get Ghan back? ”

Midna chewed on her lip briefly. “I don’t know. I hope so, if only to give this back to him.” Gold flared on her own hand briefly. “I don’t mind holding it in trust, but I’m not sure I can handle having it for the rest of my days. It’s...a lot,” she found herself admitting.

“I’d trade you,” Link’s lips twitched, as if he was making a joke. “Though mine seems to be useless.” A fact he seemed mostly unbothered by. “Zelda and I are here, though, if you ever need help.”

“Thank you.” It wasn’t as if Midna was unused to accepting help, she was just...used to being able to handle everything on her own. It was part of the reason she’d been accepted as Queen, she was good at dealing with things—though as a queen she’d known she’d have advisors and the like to help.

The door opened and Zelda stepped in, a tinge of excitement on her face. “Sobik gave us a room in the Temple here in the city we can use for your work, Midna. They were...cautiously optimistic about the rest of it.” She sighed. “I suppose a better response would’ve been too much to hope for. I can only hope we find him soon, and…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Thousands of years worth of memories and none of them could have prepared me for this situation.”

Link reached out, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him. She collapsed into his lap, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “I...I don’t miss the days of old when things weren’t so…‘complicated,’ but some easy answers wouldn’t be too much to ask for, would it?”

“I think easy answers mean you’re doing things wrong, unfortunately. Or they’re just easy ways out that don’t really solve the problem,” Midna volunteered. “So I’m no help there. But we should go now, you can mope and wallow all you want while I hopefully make things better for the both of you.” Standing she went over to Link and Zelda, offering her hand to help Zelda up. “And the maps?”

“Nabooru said she’d have them delivered here by the time we got back,” Zelda answered. She took Midna’s hand and rose gracefully. “It shouldn’t take me too long to find what I need and we plot our course. Though my current idea is very...chaotic.”

Midna snorted, letting Zelda take the lead as they began to walk. “That might be for the best, harder for Zant to figure out where we might be going next, though traveling might be the biggest problem.”

“Animals don’t seem affected by the Twilight,” Link commented. “But even still, it takes a week to get from here to Hyrule Castle, and another four days to get to the Eastern Mountains, it’s five days riding due south to get to the Lost Woods.”

Zelda blew out a slow breath. “There are songs that can get us to the temples, but we don’t have the Ocarina of Time, or the Goddess’ Lyre, so they’re pointless. So this quest of ours is going to take some time, and hopefully by the finish it won’t be too late.”

Midna didn’t want to offer up the fact she knew a teleportation working, not when she didn’t know if it would do what it was supposed to, if it did anything at all. Hopefully she would have a moment to test it before being able to suggest it. So she tucked it away for now, and focused herself on the task at hand, which she would need.

The room in the temple was small, but tucked away. Midna nodded as she looked it over. “It will do. I need you both to be laying down, naked would be best.” Something that Zelda seemed nonplussed by, but that had Link turning a little pink.

Midna didn’t comment on it, but she did snigger a little.

Soon enough they were both laid out and comfortable. Closing the door, Midna sealed it with magic before stepping between them. “I hope this doesn’t hurt,” she offered as she put on Majora’s Mask again. The world changed again, far more brightly colored than the last time. Link and Zelda themselves sparkling with green, and blue, tinged gold respectively.

Power leapt to her will and she began.

It hurt from her end, she found. Not from the working, but from the fact her magic wanted to overflow like a river in flood and she had to keep it contained and channeled. Link only grunted occasionally as she worked on him, the lines of the spell appearing black against his own aura she guessed, while against his skin they appeared black with just the faintest hint of pale green. That they were such familiar colors Midna took as a sign it was working.

By the time she finished with Link she should have felt exhausted. Instead she felt exhilarated, still bursting with magical power and raring to go onto Zelda. How had the King managed to deal with this day in and out? By his own words he’d barely used magic, how could he have handled the itch, and the overflow? Something she could hopefully ask him when they next met.

Zelda was harder, it turned out, her natural abilities resisting. Because it was foreign magic? Or because Midna bore Power and Wisdom considered it the enemy?

Gritting her teeth Midna poured more in, she had the magic to spare, it seemed, so why not? Eventually she began to see the same thing she’d seen on Link: black tinged with pale green against the skin, and black on her aura. 

Midna sat back with a gasp what seemed to be an eternity later. Her whole body ached and she was hungry . Sitting upright didn’t prove impossible, but it was a near thing. Taking the Mask off she still found herself feeling a blush of pride as she looked them over. The lines were much less pronounced without the Mask’s help, but still visible, tracing over the skin in jagged lines and hollow circles.

“How do you feel?” Midna’s voice rasped when she spoke.

“Strange,” Zelda answered as she sat upright and began to dress. “Like I’m...coated in a thin layer of cotton.” She frowned slightly and moved her hands, a small ball of light appearing. “Well that’s a relief.”

Link dressed before answering. “It’s a bit like with the Wolf, but less invasive. I should be fine.”

A nod. “Good, hopefully it actually works.” Midna tried to stand and stumbled, relieved when Link and Zelda both rushed to catch her. “I, on the other hand, need food, and then a nice long sleep. I’d be of little to no use on the travel and route planning anyways, this isn’t my land.”

Supported by the both of them, Midna managed to make it out of the Temple and back to the Palace. Where she collapsed gratefully onto the pillows in Zelda’s room. Barely noticing the maps as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “Just wake me in the morning, and have lots of food ready.”

“We will,” Zelda promised, her hand warm and golden against Midna’s shoulder. “Sleep now, Midna, we’ll deal with the rest for now.”

“Better…” Midna muttered as she fell into sleep.

-

From a distance, Demise watched as two riders and a flying companion practically raced across the desert towards the east, where Zant had firmly entrenched himself. Demise knew he shouldn’t be here, that the war was now in deadly earnest, and Death was needed more than ever.

Yet he found himself being drawn back to Hyrule, to the land that had rejected him. To these little mortals Giraham had named as his former enemies.

What was it about them? Why did he feel a pull?

“Master?” Giraham’s voice broke his train of thought. “Why are we back here? Does your Mother not need us?” There was a note of fretting in the sword’s voice, as if he could contemplate what Majora’s wrath might be for abandoning her and feared it. Demise was not sure how to feel about his sword fearing something. “Should we return?”

Demise didn’t answer right away, still watching the riders. “No,” he finally answered. “My Mother can handle herself, even against Calamity, for a time.” A shading of the truth, but his Mother would not be his Mother if she could not stand gleefully against her own. “We will remain here in Hyrule.” He gave a chuckle. “To be it’s protector instead of it’s conqueror it seems.” He nodded at the riders. “And I wish to know more.”

Giraham nodded. “But it seems the Hero brat is with Hylia’s get now, Master, you should be careful. If they get the Master Sword…”

A grunt, not a dismissal, for Giraham’s concern was valid to a point, and yet… “I am far stronger now than I was then. I am wholly myself and no longer a puppet or a shard. I think, should they name me enemy, they will have a harder time in destroying me than they have before.”

“As you say, Master.” Giraham wrung his hands, but still fell in when Demise moved to follow these ‘heroes,’ his stride eating up the miles.

-

There, on the other side of the bridge Zelda had first crossed only months ago, was a Twilight Barrier, just like the others. She watched as Link carefully picked his way back to them, for it might have been a few months for her, but for the bridge it had been forty years, with no upkeep to speak of. Even stone began to crumble after so long. Though Zelda supposed it could be worse, there could be no bridge at all.

“Follow exactly where I go,” Link told her firmly, settling the black with his knees. “At a horse behind, in case the joined weight is too much.” Everything had seemed to handle him and the black just fine, but she knew he had a point.

She nodded, gripping the reins of her own Seba—which felt both terrible and awful to think about, that she had managed to somehow live, as if the Twilight hadn’t let her age and die as a horse should. Kicking her into a walk once Link had gotten far enough ahead. He left an easy trail to follow, at least, and it was a relief to get to the other side.

Even if the other side also had an impatient Midna. “Finally,” the Twili woman huffed. “Come on, it’s going to be hard enough getting you both in, nevermind the horses.”

Her hair exploded into life again, and it seemed to take far less time before Zelda and Seba were engulfed in it. She gripped hard on Seba’s reins, making all the soothing sounds, touches, and magics she could to keep her horse in check.

Then they were through.

Notes:

Hey, just to let y'all know, I'll be posting the first chapter of another loz short-fic on Saturday, a Skyward Sword AU in honor of it hitting 10! It'll be Demise/Link/Zelda (which apparently isn't a tagged ship so I'll be the first...) and a bit darker than Prayer (but a lot more sex). If you're interested I hope to see you there!

Chapter 25: Part 3: The Way of All Things

Notes:

brief cw for a spider...

Zelda nearly whimpered as she climbed off Seba’s back. Over a week’s worth of riding and she certainly had the sore bottom to show for it.

Though she was grateful in a way that she did have a bottom, did have a voice to complain with. Midna’s magic had worked, and better still, held. Though the markings ached strangely, especially when they got too close to the oozing Malice that littered the landscape like puddles after rain.

Nearby there was a floating spirit orb and Zelda was too heart-weary to see what sort of sentient it might be. At least it was far enough away from any Malice to be consumed by Calamity. They had come across those too, in their travel east, and Zelda hugged herself at the memory.

Link’s hand squeezed her shoulder, the other woman letting go as she passed, bedrolls in hand. They had packed tents and the like, but the Twilight here seemed to have no weather, or even climate to worry about. Zelda wasn’t sure yet whether that was a good or bad thing.

Midna settled in next to Zelda, her red-orange eyes turning west, to look at the Royal Castle in the wide valley below. Which glowed with a sullen yellow light, like sunlight through smoke. “Do you think Zant is still there?”

“I don’t know,” Zelda answered honestly. “If he were smart, he wouldn’t be. Though if he broke the mirror I’m not sure how he could have left Hyrule.”

“Calamity,” Midna suggested. “Though I feel less of...it’s influence here than I thought I would. Less even than in Termina, and all the Malice in Termina was on the moon.” She huffed. “So clearly something is distracting it, and I hope whatever it might be, Calamity and Zant choke on it.” Her eyes darkened.

Zelda nodded, hoping the same, if with less vehemence. It would be nice if their enemies just...found their ends by other means, and all they had to do was pick up the pieces here in Hyrule. Zelda doubted they would be that lucky.

A sound in the nearby woods had them all freezing. Minda shrinking almost painfully fast into her child form. Zelda strung her bow, while Link crouched, grabbing the sword laying amongst the bedrolls. Twice now they’d fought Zant’s cultists, and that was twice too many in Zelda’s mind. The sounds...She gave herself a shake, focusing herself.

A deer stepped out from between the trees. They relaxed, but Zelda found herself looking at Link in question. It would be a good addition to their supplies, but it would take time to butcher and prepare. Link shook her head and Zelda unstrung her bow, gripping the string tightly to keep it from hurting her. The deer stilled when it finally noticed them, bounding back into the trees a heartbeat later.

Holding back a sigh, Zelda focused on making a fire. The Twilight around her resisted, making it a frustrating struggle—so perhaps fresh meat wasn’t the best idea, as much as it sounded appetizing. When they’d freed the area, she hoped.

“I still think we should’ve gone for a closer temple.” Midna sighed.

Zelda rolled her eyes at the now-constant complaint. “The Sheikah will be a great help, though these are not the same people as the ones your people would remember.” Strange, to know that. These current Sheikah had done their best to revive their predecessors' traditions, and their appearance—to mildly less success than the former—but they were not the same people. Though they fulfilled the same purpose...Zelda gave another shiver. “And the Shadow Temple...it will be best to get it done with quickly.”

Zelda’s memories of those seven years in her past life were there and not, enough that she knew where they needed to go now, but the details were missing. Something that seemed all too fitting considering those seven years hadn’t truly happened. But she knew full well what horrors the Shadow Temple might still have within it. She knew the Sheikah of now were still spies, and bodyguards to the royal family. Were they still assassins and torturers too?

Link squeezing her shoulder again drew her out of her dark wonderings. She supposed they’d all find out when they got to the Temple. And it would be good to see Impa again, once they’d freed her from the mirror shard.

She’d looked up to the older woman for so long, across lifetimes even, and she missed her.

A warm mug was pressed between her fingers, and Zelda gave a watery smile to Link. “Thank you, sorry I’m all over the place.”

“It’s fine,” Link replied. “Though I’m still suspicious about this hidden town. Why keep it a secret?”

“Old Kakariko...the home of the Shadow Temple is a dangerous place to know about, there are...a lot of dark secrets from the past there. When the Sheikah were revived under Zelda the Enduring they were allowed to be more...open, than they’d been before. Less hidden away like an ugly secret.” Though if the Gerudo’s tale was true...then the Sheikah had just as black beginnings as their former end.

“We should reach it tomorrow. Getting into the Temple shouldn’t be a problem, we just have to drain the well.” Even still, Zelda was baffled as to why the builders had chosen that for their entrance. The other Temples made sense, somewhat, but that...no, focus. They’d all need to be at their best for the fight with Impa...

Link and Midna both nodded, sitting on either side of Zelda as Link made...dinner, Zelda supposed, since they were stopping to sleep. The lack of time was another frustration, one Zelda never thought she’d have. Missing the sun was somewhat expected, missing that it moved was not.

Shaking off her thoughts again, Zelda drank her water, rubbing at the marks on her cheek when they itched again. Link, at least, looked to be cooking more heartily, a good idea considering. And if they managed to free Impa tomorrow, then they could resupply at New Kakariko a ways to the south before moving on.

Zelda just hoped it would be enough.

-

Link woke, how much later she didn’t know, but she felt relatively well rested, so she hoped it had been quite a few hours. Or perhaps not, for when she sat up, Minda was still on watch, Zelda’s fire flickering an eerie blue in the amber light. Yet Link felt certain that she couldn’t go back to sleep, even if she wanted to.

“What time is it?” She found herself asking, fingers stretching as she yawned. Only to realize what a pointless question that was when time didn’t seem to exist.

To her surprise though, Midna shrugged. “Two hours at most, you can go back to sleep.”

Shaking her head Link gently shifted Zelda who murmured and snuggled deeper into the bedroll. “Don’t think I can, feel...awake .” She frowned at Midna as she joined her. “How do you know the time?”

“I don’t know the time,” Midna corrected. “I know how much time has passed. It’s just...something that happens, I guess, when you live in the Twilight long enough.” Black-green magic crackled along her fingers briefly. “And we can all tell when seven years have passed, though I’m not sure I can explain that one even more.” She sighed. “None of that is neither here nor there.”

Link supposed that was the best answer she was going to get, not that she really needed to know more, though Zelda might have known exactly the right question to ask to have it all make sense. “You can sleep, if you want to," Link told her. “I can finish the watch.” For as much as that meant here.

Midna sighed. “I should,” she agreed. Standing she stretched, going to the unused bedroll. “I’ll see you soon enough, I suppose.” She huffed, as if making some poor joke.

One Link didn’t get, but she understood the urge to do so. She looked over Zelda, who had rolled into the spot Link had been using, likely trying to suck up the warmth, and Midna, who had curled into a ball, pulling her cloak over her instead of using the blanket, and across the landscape. She didn’t feel like anything dangerous was nearby. Something new that had started to happen, that she wasn’t sure if she needed to tell Zelda about.

She was half-certain it came from the Triforce, and perhaps it was the source of this...energized feeling she was experiencing now. Both things, she supposed, would be good for someone named Hero. Maybe if she got really desperate, she could try to talk to the Wolf/Hero again, but she still shuddered at the memory of that...possession. No, that would be a last resort if it came down to it.

Trying to distract herself she poked at the fire, which didn’t even flicker. Nor, Link realized, did it seem to be consuming the wood Zelda had gathered. Just one more eerie thing in a place seemingly made for them, Link supposed.

Link didn’t know how much time had passed, but she eventually decided it was time to wake Midna and Zelda. And after a tense breakfast they headed out.

Getting to Old Kakariko wasn’t hard at least, Link wasn’t sure if she considered that a good omen or a bad one. As they rode into a town that would’ve been quaint looking if not for the Twilight, Link heard a skittering sound. She looked around quickly, catching what she thought was a mask, but it vanished so quickly she couldn’t be sure.

Zelda led them directly through the village, past the windmill into the cemetery, which had far too many of the spirit orbs in it for Link’s tastes. “Not all of them are sentient, I think,” Zelda said. “The cemetery apparently is infested with poes quite frequently. I wouldn't have thought they’d be affected by the Twilight.” A curious fact, but it didn’t make Link feel any better.

Even so, Link dismounted, making sure the horses were safely tucked away before joining Midna and Zelda at the back of the cemetery. Zelda struggled to summon a light, but eventually won out. Illuminating the elaborate headstones and the Triforce symbol beneath their feet. “The Royal Tombs are beneath this.” She stamped her heel against the Triforce. “But the Temple is up there.” She did her best to throw her light up, to little success. But Link could see enough that she was certain the cave was more a mouth, lying in wait to snap closed around unwary explorers.

Midna lifted them up without hesitation, flying them over the short cliff and fence that seemed to be the only barriers between the world and the Shadow Temple.

The cave, tunnel?, appeared even darker up close than it had below. And Link found herself afraid and strangely not. Next to her Zelda rolled her shoulders. “Well, we’ve got no choice but to go in. If my memories are correct, the tunnel’s short, and should open up into a room where we have to use magic to light torches.” She made a face. “We’ll manage, somehow.”

Even though they stuck together, Link couldn’t tell where anything was, everything a pervasive dark that nothing seemed to alleviate. The only way she could tell they'd moved from the tunnel into the room Zelda had described was from the sounds of their footsteps. Zelda let out a brief cry of pain. “I’m fine,” she rushed to say. “I just ran into a torch.”

Again she tried to summon a light, with less success than before. “Let me try,” Midna offered.

While she did manage to summon a ball of flame, it didn’t illuminate much. She sent it flying around the room, the torches it passed over not lighting at all. Though they soon discovered that they didn’t need to light any torches at all.

For the door Zelda had mentioned had been broken open, rubble lying all across the doorway.

“Well, this isn’t ominous at all,” Zelda tried to laugh, but didn’t do very well.

Link wished she could say something, but Midna’s ball of light soon died, leaving them in the pitch black again. “We have to go in,” Zelda sounded as if she were trying to convince herself of that fact as much as the rest of them. She was right, but Link herself wasn’t too excited about it.

“Let me try something,” Minda’s voice sounded absent. There was a brief rustling and shortly after, she made a triumphant sound. “I was right. Majora’s Mask lets me see magic, and the like. It should help us avoid traps, and it lets me sort of see, which is better than nothing.”

She was right that it was better than nothing, but even from here Link could feel the...strangeness of the mask and it set her teeth on edge. It didn’t help that Link felt something silken wrap around her wrist, just barely managing to bite back a yelp.

“It’s just my hair,” Midna whispered. “That way there’s no chance of you getting lost, or accidently wandering into something you shouldn’t.” Link was tugged by her wrist, until she nearly hit Zelda. “This way.” Slowly they walked, and Link soon felt rubble under her feet.

Next to her, about when they reached where the door had been, Zelda stilled. “Do you hear that?” She kept her voice low.

All of them strained for a moment, poised for any hint of a sound. Until Link finally heard it, whistling along as if in question.

“Who would be playing an instrument down here?” Zelda asked.

“Should we follow it?” Midna asked. “It could be a trap.” Which was exactly what Link was thinking.

Zelda gave another nod. “It could be,” she agreed. “But if we know it’s a trap, then it can’t be.”

Link wasn’t sure that was how it went, at all.

-

In the end, they had decided to try and find the source of the music, with Midna leading the way.

“Stay here a second,” Midna whispered. Zelda felt her hand being led by Midna’s hair, until Link’s hand touched her own. They grabbed onto each other, Zelda’s heart pounding in her ear, overwhelming the still faint sound of music, and the low hum that had begun to join it.

“How will you find us?” Zelda whispered hurriedly, unable to see Midna through the darkness.

Midna laughed softly, the sound muted. “You two are lit up like fireworks, I’ll find you. Just don’t move.”

Zelda stepped closer to Link, a fact she could only tell because she literally ran into the other woman. Link wobbled, but managed to stop herself from making them both tumble. The sounds of both their breathing sounded too loud, but Zelda wasn’t sure she could calm herself down enough to quiet it. Everything in her felt like it was screaming at her to run, to get out. No matter that she’d get lost, just another victim of the Temple.

She found herself wondering if it would be worth it to struggle through making a mental link again, if only so Link could speak. As much as she wanted to, to have a comforting voice, she held off, certain that her magic would be needed for more important things.

The low humming sound stopped, and a moment later Zelda felt Midna’s silky hair wrap around her wrist again. “You’re lucky I knew it was you and not a skulltula,” she found herself hissing. Heart pounding in her chest once more.

“Sorry,” Midna replied. “I’ll let you know next time. The traps should be stopped for a while, but you need to follow exactly where my hair tugs you, there are pit traps, and blades.”

It was slow going, but they managed it, the music only growing just a little bit louder, the sound now almost familiar to Zelda. She should know what it was, she should, but she found she couldn’t quite place it. Despite the familiarity there was something unsettling about it, like what she was hearing didn’t quite match up with what she knew.

Midna stopped them twice more to deal with traps, each time leading them carefully until they seemed to come to a central point. Zelda hadn’t realized they’d stopped until she almost ran into Link again. “What is it?” She did her best to keep her voice low.

“Living Dead,” Midna replied. “We need to move very carefully. Actually…” Zelda bit her tongue hard enough that blood filled her mouth as she felt herself being scooped up by Midna’s hair. The sensation of ‘flying’ was quite odd to her mind, all the worse because now she didn’t even have the ground to orient herself with.

Thankfully the ground soon returned, and when Midna put them down she found that the music had grown louder still. “I think it’s coming from our left?” She didn’t bother pointing, she didn’t even truly know if it was coming from the left.

She felt a faint swish of air from Midna moving, the only sign that anyone other than Zelda existed. “There are stairs leading down, but more traps, just a moment…”

Zelda felt Link grab her, her touch familiar and comforting. One of her fingers began to move across Zelda’s forearm...i-m h-e-r-e.

Oh. “Thank you, Link,” she whispered back, the heat on her cheeks comforting for a change. She squeezed the other woman’s hand tightly. “I hate this,” she felt brave enough to admit it at least.

Link squeezed her hand back, but before she could write anything else on Zelda’s arm, Midna returned. “Okay, same as before.” Carefully she led them down the stairs. It couldn’t get any darker at least, but that was hardly a good thing in Zelda’s mind. 

The music was again louder, but now it seemed to be coming from everywhere , the strange sounds echoing strangely. “Great,” Zelda muttered. “What now?” She sighed, gave herself a shake. “Can you see anything, Midna?”

For a long few heartbeats there was no reply. “It looks like we’re in a prison of some sort? There’s a door at the far end.” Stone cells would explain why the music was echoing so strangely at least. “Should we go for it?”

“Might as well,” Zelda answered. “Maybe once we’re at the door we can get a better read on the music.”

Which was a better idea than nothing. It was more straightforward than anything else so far, thankfully. The door opened, or Zelda supposed it did, for the music grew louder still. Again she couldn’t quite place the instrument, but was certain she’d heard it before, and in fact it almost sounded like more than one of the same instrument.

“More stairs,” Midna said. “Heading further down.”

Excellent.

Again they descended, and she could just hear a faint rattling, which she soon realized was Link checking her weapons. One handed Zelda checked her bow, hoping she’d have time to string it, if necessary. Though would normal arrows even work on whatever awaited them? Light Arrows would be too hard to summon in the pitch black, but she’d at least try.

For a moment, Zelda thought she was hallucinating the paler darkness—she’d read that your mind did that, if you spent too long in true darkness—but Link gave a grunt and Midna made a sound of surprise. “Light.”

The further down the stairs, the more they all realized it was true. There was light, enough to see the stairs they were on spiraled along the wall. Which was new to Zelda’s memories, but she supposed the new Sheikah could have built on to the Temple.

Light meant she’d be able to summon Light Arrows, that they’d actually be able to see what they were about to fight—though Zelda realized that might not be a good idea the longer she thought about it—that Link could communicate.

Finally, the stairs ended. The light coming through an archway in yet another wall. The music too, Zelda realized. The tune clearer than it’d been before, strangely haunting and yet not right. Link drew her sword, and Zelda took the time to string her bow, Minda not removing the Mask, but clearly preparing in her own way.

Together they stepped through the archway, into a large room. The light came from an opening in the ceiling, almost a spotlight to the center of the room, where a figure sat.

She had a mask resting against the side of her face, which was downturned towards the wheel harp she was playing, the instrument making all sorts of sounds Zelda had never heard before. Not that she thought about that for long. For the woman was Impa.

Except for her clothes being different—why a bodyguard and spy would wear a coat with such a long train was beyond Zelda—Impa didn’t look any different than Zelda remembered her. Even so, Zelda held herself back from calling out, sharing a confused look with Link, who seemed just as surprised as she was by the unexpected sight.

 “What should we do?” Despite the wheel harp, Midna’s voice sounded far too loud in the space.

Impa stopped her playing, turning her head up to look at them she opened her eyes, and again, and again.

Zelda choked back a scream as more eyes opened on her former guard’s face. Opening her mouth, Impa barred fangs at them, a rattling hissing sound leaving her.

Impa...stood up, and Zelda forced back another scream as she realized what she thought had been a coat train, was in fact Impa’s body. Two more sets of legs growing out the sides to help support her thorax.

Sobik’s mirror shard had turned her into a spirit creature. Impa’s...had turned her into a spider.

“Where is it?” Zelda hissed at Midna as Impa scuttled towards them, only to stop when Link stepped forward, brandishing her sword.

“I don’t know,” Midna answered frantically. “Give me some time.”

Zelda bit back the urge to snap that they didn’t have time. Impa had been turned into a horrible creature and she needed to be fixed, now. She managed to hold it in though. If Impa had managed like this for forty years, than a few more minutes wouldn’t do her any harm.

But how to distract her without doing true harm?

Not letting herself put too much thought into it, Zelda drew a normal arrow and shot, grazing one of Impa’s spider legs.

Impa buckled briefly, letting out a scream that raised the hair on Zelda’s body, then righted herself. Zelda ran towards her, hoping to put the Sage off guard. Impa reared back, but didn’t retreat as much as Zelda would have liked.

Or rather, she did, just not in the direction Zelda had hoped.

For silk had shot out of Impa’s body, up into the dark ceiling, drawing herself up by the thread. A chittering sound echoed through the room.

“Damn it,” Zelda hissed. “What are we going to do?” The heart of the problem was obvious, but her mind was too focused on the fear of what she was facing to think past it.

Link didn’t seem to be suffering the same problem, and Zelda had no idea what Midna’s expression might be behind the mask. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, Zelda did her best to think through her fear, they could do this. At least Impa had a physical body they could attack, unlike Sobik.

For some reason, Link dove for the wheel harp, left abandoned in the middle of the room. She managed to duck out of the way of a glob of silk shot her way, retreating back towards them. Forcing them all to start dodging silk. 

They scattered, but not before Link managed to shove the harp into Zelda’s hands. “Play.” For a moment she thought she’d misread Link’s fingers, but when she looked at Link again in confusion, Link gave the same sign.

Zelda clutched her bow and the harp to her chest as she ran. “Why?” She managed to get out. She trusted Link, but didn’t understand. It might be an interesting distraction, but Zelda doubted Impa would buy it for long.

Midna launched a globe of amber fire into the ceiling, and Impa chittered again as she dodged it. Her scuttling feet telling them nothing of where she might be going.

Zelda blinked and Link was there at her side. “She was fine while she was playing, maybe it will subdue her again.” she explained. Before snatching Zelda’s bow from her hands, and her quiver from her hip. Aiming far more quickly than Zelda ever could have and shooting into the darkness.

While Zelda wasn’t sure Link’s idea would actually work, she also thought they might as well try. Her fingers shook as she settled the wheel harp on her lap, winding the crank to turn the wheel. Even without physically playing it, it still produced some sound from the drone strings against the wheel. Which didn’t seem to be helping like Link thought it would, but it also wasn’t music.

Her mind scrambled, this wasn’t her typical instrument, after all, it wasn’t plucked like a harp or lyre. She took a deep breath, she could do this. Someone in this chain of memories she had inside her, had to know how to do it. Zelda just had to start, and hope that the memory would take over.

So with far more confidence than she felt, she pressed down on one of the strings, the sound almost jarring. Zelda hummed the tune she wanted, moving her finger until she got the right pitch, quickly testing the other strings for their notes. She could do this.

Taking a deep breath she began to sing along. “I danced in the Void/ ‘Fore the world was begun…” The singing seemed to help her fingers find the tune better, gaining confidence. It was strange to sing this song again, knowing now who it was about. What other mentions of Majora had managed to slip through the cracks, unnoticed by anyone?

Finally she let herself look up from the wheel harp. Heart almost stopping in her chest when she saw Impa heading straight for her. Despite that Zelda’s fingers moved on their own, still playing, even as her voice faltered. Minda appeared in a blink, throwing up a shield that Impa almost crashed into. “She is slowing down some,” Midna managed to offer.

Zelda couldn’t see it, but she believed Midna. When she finished “Lady of the Dance” she moved onto the royal lullaby, hoping it would help even more.

It, in fact, did. Impa stopped for a moment, as if confused. Which gave Link enough time to leap onto her back. Impa reared, but slowly as Zelda continued to play, repeating over again when she reached the end of the lullaby.

“Midna, help Link,” Zelda hissed, grateful the lullaby didn’t require her to sing. She watch as Link clambered up onto Impa’s shoulders. Making her thrash even more, trying to dislodge him, it was enough that she reared up onto her back legs too, revealing the underside of her abdomen. 

Zelda couldn’t see much beyond a strange darkness, but Midna made a triumphant sound. Darting in, her hair wrapping around something , before she jerked herself backwards, a long, slim, piece of mirror following.

Just like before Impa began to change back, Zelda dropping the wheel harp with a cry, rushing to catch Impa as the Twilight began to fade around them. Impa was heavy, but Zelda didn’t mind one bit, holding her former guardian close. Closing her eyes she hummed some healing magic, the golden light sinking into Impa with ease.

The older woman sighed, her red eyes fluttering open. “Zelda?”

“Impa!” Zelda didn’t bother to hold back her tears.

-

Midna found herself relieved that they didn’t have to leave the same way they’d entered. A staggering Impa leading them to a hidden door, with normal, lit stairs leading up.

Outside the world was shining once more, people looking around in confusion, as if they understood something had happened, but not what . One approached, bowing respectively. “Lady Impa, what happened?” Their brown eyes widened when they saw Zelda. “Princess! How are you here?”

“Gather up everyone here, Paret, and I’ll do my best to explain.”

Midna let herself fall into Link’s shadow, uninterested in explaining herself, even if the Sheikah might not outright reject her. Zelda herself had said these were not the same Sheikah that her own people helped make long ago, even if they’d kept their ways.

The meeting was brief, though even Impa looked shaken when Zelda told them about their own adventures in Termina, and that forty years had passed since Zant first invaded.

Now they were gathered in a smaller room, tea steaming from untouched cups. “Where are you going next?” Impa asked, concern clear in her every line.

“Death Mountain,” Zelda answered. “There probably was a better way to go about doing these Temples, but...I wanted to know you were alright, Impa.” She gave a watery smile. “I missed having you while we were traveling.”

Impa gave a warm smile back. “Where is King Ghananorv anyways? I would have thought he would be by your side, for you, at the least.”

Zelda and Link shared a look. “He’s...we’re not sure. We’re trying to figure out how we might get him back?”

“Get him back?” Impa frowned. “What does that mean?”

Taking a deep breath, Zelda explained, about Majora, and Demise, and how Calamity had consumed them. “But I saw Giraham while we were in the desert, and there’s only one person he calls Master. And so, I have hope, as outlandish as it seems.”

Impa’s frown only deepened. “I know I cannot convince you not to hope, but it is a dangerous thing. Especially with a God who has been antagonistic before, even if that was under the control of another as you say. He might still be, even without that influence. And who is to say he knows you at all, if any memories remain at all.” 

“We know ,” Link replied. “But we’re not going to give up, and at least try. If we ever have the luck to run into him.”

A sigh. “Well, good luck, I suppose, and I will pray to Hylia that you are right on all counts. I’ll have Paret get you fresh supplies, and charms against the heat.” Impa looked out the window, to where the new borders of Twilight had been drawn. “I am not sure I’ll ever be able to sleep easily, knowing what I do now, and at how quickly Hyrule fell to an invading force.”

Zelda looked down at the table, hands fisting in her trousers. “Impa...If I...dethroned my father, would the Sheikah stand with me?”

Even Link looked surprised at her words. Though Midna found she thought Zelda had the right idea, if her father really handed everything to Zant, he didn’t deserve to be king anymore.

Impa didn’t answer for a long minute, but she took a deep breath, then nodded. “I saw first hand his betrayal of Hyrule, if he will turn traitor so easily to have his own desires, he should not rule. We would stand with you. Though I cannot speak to any of the other sentients of Hyrule, you would have to convince them, or come up with a good enough lie once you claimed the castle.”

Zelda’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you, that is a relief. I know I’m technically not old enough yet, though I guess perhaps I am. I just don’t look it yet.” She gave a wry smile. “But with what’s happened...I don’t feel I can let my father keep the throne when all is said and done.”

Link reached out, squeezing her shoulder in comfort.

Impa stood and gave a bow. “Already you have the fine makings of a good queen, Zelda. No matter what happens, remember that.”  With those final words she left the room.

Zelda sagged further, falling into Link and crying. Midna beat a hasty retreat, letting them have their privacy. She’d never been good with crying anyways.

-

They spent two nights, and oh, what a relief to have nights again, in Old Kakariko before saddling their horses and heading northwest to Death Mountain. Reaching out, Link patted the neck of the Black, as much to comfort Link herself as the horse.

The Twilight barrier loomed ahead, an inescapable destination. At least in the...regular Hyrule they didn’t have to worry about Cultists, though the fact that a road that should have been busy with traffic was empty unsettled in it’s own right.

But who knew when things would get back to normal. Though most of Hyrule didn’t have the same problem as the Gerudo had had, that forty years passed for some, but not for all. Granted those forty years had passed for every country but Hyrule, and how would it fit in with however the world had changed?

Link glanced at Zelda, worrying her lip. Perhaps that’s why she had told Impa what she had about her father. Though they had all missed forty years, she was younger, easier to adapt to changes. That Zelda held the Triforce of Wisdom likely wouldn’t hurt. Not that Link still knew how she felt about it. If Zelda did become queen, and Ghananorv did return, where did that leave her?

In the desert it wouldn’t matter, but in Hyrule?

Link sighed, right now such worries served no purpose except to stress her out. And things were stressful enough without having to worry about relationships and appearances.

She forced herself to look ahead, at where she could make out Death Mountain, even through the Twilight. With her knees she nudged the black alongside Seba. “What do you think the Fire Sage will be?”

“I wish I knew,” Zelda sighed. “We dealt with a ghost, a spider-woman, and aside from my father, Impa and Sobik are the only human Sages. Who knows what the mirror shards have done to non-human sentients. Nothing good, certainly.”

Midna giggled. “Maybe the Fire Sage is just a campfire, and we can just douse them with water.”

“If only,” Zelda groaned. “Well we’ll find out tomorrow. Praying that the worst is behind us, but preparing, just in case.” Her smile was wan.

Link nodded in return.

They made camp as evening fell, true twilight setting in, as Link made a soup with warmed flatbreads.  None of them tried to stay up late, they had an early morning tomorrow, through mountain terrain, and it would take them a while to get to the Fire Temple, which thankfully wasn’t at the summit.

Link woke with Zelda still cuddled against her, the other woman trembling. Carefully Link reached out, giving her a shake. When that didn’t work, she pinched the tip of Zelda’s ear for good measure.

Zelda gasped, eyes flying open. “What’s wrong?”

“Nightmare,” Zelda answered, voice trembling. “It...wasn’t good.”

Link didn’t push, just gave her a comforting hug before getting up and making breakfast. They ate and headed out, and in an hour they reached the barrier.

They were old hat at it now, and not even Seba and the black panicked when Midna brought them through.

The first thing Link found himself realizing was that despite the fact they were heading towards a volcano, there was none of the infamous heat that travelers talked about. The second was that even when they’d been traveling in normal Hyrule, the heat had been absent. As if even when freed of Twilight, whatever Twilight remained nearby still affected the world.

As they headed further up, they found more pockets of Malic everywhere, making for painfully slow going. Eventually they reached a plateau in the mountain, which gave them a magnificent view of the rest of the Twilight controlled Hyrule. What they’d freed only the day before was invisible, the barriers blocking any sight of them.

As they began to turn to head further up, Link heard a strange sucking sound. When she turned to face it she found an eyeball sticking out of the Malice. Zelda noticed it too, taking it out with a single shot. Some of the Malice fading away. “If only it were all that easy,” she sighed.

More Malice blocked the way further up, which necessitated finding eyes to shoot, or finding new paths completely.

But after what felt like an eternity they reached the Fire Temple. The edifice inspiring, at least what could be made out with the Malice oozing out of it. Which Zelda took one look at and uttered a understandable “fuck.”

“What now?” Midna asked. “If the whole Temple is filled with Malice, could the Sage even be there? I would think if the Malice had eaten the Sage, the area would have been freed.” All too true, Link supposed. An outcome that would have been good, and bad. 

Zelda’s brows furrowed. “Let me...let me try something. You’d best be ready for an attack though, I’m going to seek out Dorbus with magic, and it’ll lead him straight to us.”

Link nodded, loosening her sword, and stringing her bow, not sure which would be best yet against whatever Dorbus had become. Zelda knelt, head bowed and hands clasped in prayer. For a brief moment she glowed golden. Shortly after the ground around them began to rumble, Link’s eyes shot towards the caldera, an eruption?

Hopefully Midna would be able to rescue them and the horses if that were the case. Though she’d heard that the eruptions of Death Mountain could be easily outrun if one needed to, Link wasn’t exactly inclined to put that idea to the test.

The ground continued to rumble and Link grit her teeth, trying to stay stable and upright. Somehow she managed to unstring her bow, arrows would only be a waste if this kept up, drawing her sword, which was only marginally better.

A deep, grinding roar filled the air as... something rose out of the caldera, and kept rising. It looked like a wall of lava, something that should have been impossible? It seemed to notice them and began to rush towards them, far faster than could be outrun, a searing wave of head preceded it, and Link wondered if she’d have eyebrows when this was over.

“Oh, Din’s balls,” somehow she could hear Zelda’s voice over the noise around them. “That’s Dorbus.”

How were they going to fight a wall of lava? Link grit her teeth, the scale wrapping on the hilt of her sword clinging to her sweaty palms. She didn’t know how they were going to win this, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. Even if she rejected her past, she was still the Hero, and she wasn’t going to just lie down and accept a fiery death.

“Enough.”

Notes:

Wheel harp, btw is just a fancier name for a hurdy gurdy.

Chapter 26: Part 3: The Way of All Things

Notes:

You’ll notice that there’s now a projected chapter number up there! That’s right folks, we’re in the endgame now…

“Enough.”  The voice was low, almost quiet. It cut through everything with terrifying ease, like a bell. Zelda’s heart stopped in her chest, then beat double-time.

Despite knowing from the sound of his voice alone, a part of Zelda still refused to believe. At least until shaking footsteps got closer, a truly massive frame stepping in front of them. Black scales stiff in defense, while fiery hair licked and snaked around him. Demise.

Dorbus hesitated, not certain of what to make of this new challenger. But then he... it? seemed to realize even with Demise’s height, Dorbus was taller still. Lava spread wide, like a Goron making a wrestling challenge, before rushing towards them once again, even the Malice being consumed in it’s path. Which would be useful, if it weren’t attached to a creature that seemed equally willing to eat them .

Demise didn’t even draw Giraham. Instead he leapt at Dorbus, seeming unconcerned with being burned alive—granted it seemed Demise’s hair was made of real fire, though the heat of a fire couldn’t compare to lava.

The earth shook when they crashed into each other. Link grabbed her arm to help keep her steady, almost losing her own balance in the process. Their horses panicked rushing away, and Zelda didn’t envy their future selves in trying to find them, if they were lucky enough to have futures, she supposed. Midna solved the balance problem, at least, scooping them up and lifting them into the air. Which had the bonus of giving them a much better view of the fight.

If one could call it a fight. Everything was black and red and glowing, making it hard to see what was going on. Leaving them only with sounds to go off of, and Zelda wasn’t sure if the fact there were more grinding rock sounds than human sounds was good or not.

Then the lava just...fell away, an eerie silence following. “You can put us down now, Midna,” Zelda did her best to whisper, as if afraid to break the quiet.

Around them the Twilight began to die away, though the Malice remained.

Until it didn’t, the magenta substance seeming to just...explode into nothing.

Earth-shaking footsteps made her ears twitch—though thankfully they didn't shake the earth as much as it had been shaking before—and soon Demise appeared from the Temple, dragging Dorbus behind him. He came to a stop in front of them, lowering his free hand and opening it to reveal the mirror shard.

Zelda blinked, her mind taking a few moments to catch up. “Oh, thank you, Demise.” Had anyone in the history of ever said that to Demise? Carefully she reached out to take it, a sucking cold filling her and making her gasp. Thankfully it soon vanished, Midna snatching the shard away to add to the others. “Um, you’re going to let Dorbus go, right?” Hesitation filled her voice. She knew Ghananorv, not Demise.

The God stared at her for a long moment—long enough that Link moved to stand beside Zelda, her fingers lacing Zelda’s own to give a comforting squeeze—before giving a grunt and letting go of Dorbus. Who looked perfectly fine, the benefits of being living rock, Zelda supposed. “Thank you,” she said again.

Black and copper eyes narrowed at her. “You are welcome, Hylia’s get.” Again his voice reminded her of a bell slowly tolling.

“Zelda,” she corrected softly. “My name is Zelda, and you know that already.” She found herself bracing for a flare of anger. Who chided a God, after all?

Yet there was none, Demise just continued to stare at her and Link. Like he didn’t quite know what to make of them. Which was good? In that it meant he didn’t see them as enemies—granted one could figure that out from the fact he saved their lives . Yet he didn't seem to remember them at all, and her heart despaired.

“Zelda,” he agreed. “Though that was the name of my enemy, long ago.”

Zelda and Link both tensed, yet Demise still didn’t attack. “It was,” Zelda agreed. “But it is tradition that the first female born of the royal line be named Zelda, so there have been quite a lot of us. More than just the one who was Hylia in human form.” Was this working? Not that Zelda knew what she was doing, or what she even intended to happen.

“And you,” Demise narrowed his eyes at Link. “Are the one who slew me, long ago. Where is your little sword, Hero?”

Link let go of Zelda’s hand and stepped forward, challenging in her own way. “I don’t have it,” her fingers snapped. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t use it to kill you, ever again, Ghananorv."

Demise’s brows furrowed, was he trying to understand what Link had said? “I...am not quite sure I believe you,” he finally replied. “Nor is that my name, little Hero. If we are being particular.”

“It is,” Zelda replied fiercely, stepping up next to Link. “Ghananorv fa’Dragahmire, King of the Gerudo. Do...do you truly not remember?” She braced herself for whatever the answer might be, good or bad. She could handle it and figure out something...she prayed.

Demise frowned. “That...is a name I know...too many memories…” He shook his head.

There was a flash next to his hip, and the Giraham was there, strange silvery eyes narrowed at them. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Hylia’s get, but we have a duty to do, and you won’t stop us…” Before he could say anything more Demise’s hand shot out, covering half of Giraham’s face in an almost comical manner.

“Quiet, my sword, I am trying to think.”

Zelda held her breath, praying to the Golden Three that something good would happen. That some memory might be unearthed that would prove them right. That he might somehow throw off his Godhood and becomes Ghan again?

“A library?” Demise’s voice shakes her out of her thoughts, almost literally.

Cheeks turning pink, Zelda nodded. “That was the day we...officially met.” Goddesses, of all the days to remember why that one? 

Demise reached for her and she stilled. His skin felt like snake scales as his thumb brushed across her cheek. “Too many memories still. I...must think about things.” He pulled away.

Doing her best not to be heartbroken, Zelda found herself reaching out, her hand unable to even circle his wrist. “Wait.” he stilled, turning back, something like surprise on his face. Reaching up with her free hand she found herself taking off one of her earrings, placing the winter-gold and blue topaz in his overly-large palm. “Here. So you can find us more easily.” Her cheeks pinkened again.

“And you’d better,” Link’s threat perhaps didn’t have the weight it should. “We miss you, asshole.”

Demise seemed bemused more than threatened. “Until next time.” With ease he began to climb up the face of Death Mountain, disappearing over the caldera edge.

Zelda let out a slow breath. “That...could have gone worse.”

Link nodded.

The sounds of hoofbeats came from behind, turning they found Midna, carrying bridles in her hair. “Are you three done with your moment? I thought you deserved to be alone, so I found the horses. You’re welcome.” She made a slight face.

A watery laugh left Zelda. “Yes, thank you Midna. And it...went, I guess.” It was a start. Hopefully he would figure things out and come back.

-

Demise stared down at the earring she...Zelda had given him. It was tiny and with one wrong movement he could crush it. 

Nearby Giraham floated, far too inhuman to do something like worry his lip between his teeth. “Master…” There was nothing beyond that, as if his sword didn't quite know what to say himself. Demise could commiserate.

Ghananorv fa’Dragahmire… As a name it did sound familiar. An old memory filtered through him again, of warm hands and warmer smile. “It will all be alright… ” Din’s voice, shard-stealer, who set him on this world in the first place. Trying to have him win himself free of Calamity’s consumption, to no success. Not until mother…

How had she been freed? The question tugged at him, trying to lead him down a dark path. One he had not yet faced because it didn’t seem important. He knew who he was, Demise, Bringer of Death and Harbinger of Doom. Never a kind God, but never unkind either. Death and Doom cared not who it came upon, or what might follow himself, only that it was time for this person to die, for this person to know doom.

...A slightly younger looking Zelda, indigo eyes piercing and intent as they met his own. “More,” she demands, and it sparks something inside him…

A flare of that memory again, the one that had turned this Zelda almost the same color as his hair.

What sort of God was he, to fear his own memory? With that thought, and a ghost of a taste of a kiss on his lips, he plunged down the dark path.

So many lives, like grains of sand in the desert. Kings always, always turned dark and hungry as Calamity, their insidious parent winning over all too easily, no matter how much his people love him. The darkness always ending in a flare of golden light, a sword, and determined eyes that he hated so much.

Over and over, an endless tragedy, never the freedom Din had hoped, but an endless joke. There was no escape, no escape from Hunger and Drive. The all too easy first steps.

Demise had never truly gasped for breath before, as a God it wasn't as if he truly needed to breathe, but now he did. These mortal memories overcoming even the divine ones, outnumbering them greatly. Even so, he was not mortal, not any more. But…

He stared at his large hands, at the small earring Zelda, Zelda who had been so angry with him and only just begun to forgive, had given him. She would not be so small in his hand, but he finds he perhaps does not want to be a God when he sees her next.

A brief haze of a memory, or perhaps more of an experience: feeling Calamity being drained as he also ‘cursed’ them into this cycle. A lie, of course, he is his mother’s son, but Death was the end of all things, how could it create? Even something as simple as a curse? Locked away in a sword, never to be freed. Not that it had helped Demise, Calamity still oozing into his being in one form or another.

He looked down at his sword, Giraham having apparently grown bored with waiting, made by his mother’s people, just as the Master Sword had been…

Would it even work?

There was, he supposed, only one way to find out.

-

After a few days recovering with the Goron, Midna found herself more than ready to move on. The hot springs had been nice, but she’d grown a little tired of the stone folk always calling her ‘brother’ and thanking her for helping in saving them.

It wasn’t as if they’d done anything, after all. It’d all been Demise.

Zelda and Link both seemed cautiously optimistic about the whole thing, Midna would just be glad to be rid of Power...and perhaps she missed Ghan a little too, though she didn’t know him as well as the others. Shaking off the thought she turned her attention to the two Hylians in question, who were checking over their horses.

They’d marked off their new path last night before bed, west and a little south to reach the Zora’s domain where the Water Temple stood—though Zelda had mentioned she hoped that the Sage of water would meet them outside the Temple like Dorbus had, because otherwise it meant going underwater for a good amount of time. Not something Midna was looking forward to, not knowing how to swim and all.

Then after the Water Temple further west and a little north to the Air Temple, the one Zelda was most uncertain about.

It was going to amount to a good bit of traveling, so despite the Goron’s entreaties to stay a few more days, Zelda had eventually put her foot down.

The horses seemed well enough, and she saw Link check over the supplies, his gaze intent—Midna was just glad the Gorons had been wise enough not to try and supply them with the rocks they seemed to sustain themselves on. Something she couldn’t really comprehend, which clearly didn’t stop it from existing anyways.

There were many emotional farewells, and more than a few Gorons happily encouraging Link to return when this was all over. Finally though, they were heading out.

Midna almost felt relief at the quiet of the road, the Gorons hadn’t been...bad, just, more than she was interested in handling for long periods of time.

As they traveled, Zelda kept looking around, clearly hoping for someone to appear. Midna floated over to her, something like a teasing smile on her face. “I’m pretty sure when he finds us, we’ll know.” Demise was certainly hard to miss, she wondered if he could even do subtle and secretive.

“Am I that obvious?” Zelda muttered, her cheeks coloring.

Link sniggered in front of them, clearly hearing her despite her attempt at quiet. Zelda reached out and grabbed a twig from a nearby tree, tossing it at Link’s head.

“A little,” Midna answered, though not unkindly. “Like I said though, I’m pretty sure we’ll know, so just focus on what needs to be done, when he’s ready he’ll come back.” Or so Midna hoped, she sent up a brief prayer to Majora that it would be so—then wondered if Majora was the right Goddess to pray to, considering everything.

“We’ll get through this,” Midna found herself continuing.

To which Zelda nodded. “We will,” she agreed quietly. “Intact, if Hylia and the Three have anything to say about it, I hope.” 

They spent most of their remaining time on the road in silence, everyone content to keep their own thoughts. The following day was spent much the same, though the landscape was different, mountain foothills turning into grassy plains and a river, which led to their destination, if Zelda was to be believed.

Indeed, the next day they reached yet another Twilight barrier, and Midna led them through, relieved to see the markings still worked. Though as before, they seemed to interfere with Zelda’s own light magic—though Midna thought that the Twilight in general more than anything she’d specifically done.

By the time they made camp, they’d fought three bunches of cultists. Which was more than they’d encountered previously. Granted, there was less Twilight for them to inhabit, and it was clear either Zant didn’t care to reclaim what had been taken from him, or he was unable to. Midna personally thought the latter.

While there were still some comforting aspects of the Twilight, Midna found herself having grown used to the Light world, the sounds of the animals and the wind through the trees. Even the sun had grown on her...a little, she still vastly preferred night. The whole of which unsettled her in a way, because what happened when she returned to her own home to reclaim her throne and she felt unsettled and not at home?

Was there even a home for her to return to?

No, Zant had said part of the reason he’d done this foolish plan was to save their realm from Calamity’s hunger. For forever was likely Zant’s idea, but Midna was certain Calamity had meant ‘for later.’ She didn’t think the deity would let them survive, children of the Goddesses as they were.

And events had made it quite clear that ‘death’ didn’t really exist for the divine, not in the same way, at least. 

She shook her head to throw off those thoughts, wondering would get her nowhere but lost. A brush of golden warmth came to her mind, but when she reached out to try and lure her wolf guard into materialing he resisted, and since he’d never deigned to speak in her mind before, she doubted he’d start doing it now.

More things she couldn’t help but think about, and sleep was going to be a long time coming if this kept up…

-

The Zora’s domain was just as elegant as Link remembered, from the only time he’d been here accompanying Zelda on a visit. Now though it was far more quiet and empty than it’d ever been then.

Water rushed down the walls still, making them shimmer and gleam golden in the Twilight, a strange beauty that made the eeriness of everything more pronounced.

Leaving their horses at the gateway, they armed themselves and headed inside.

A scream rent the air, and they were beset by cultists, which were almost routine at this point. Minda looked a little sad as the last one died, but it made sense, these were her people after all, even if they’d chosen their fates.

They made their way deeper. There were more spirit orbs here than they’d seen almost everywhere else, the communal living of the Zora making it little surprise. “This way,” Zelda led them across a delicate looking bridge. “You know, for the longest time the water Temple was in Lake Hylia.”

“The one we passed when we left the desert?” Minda asked.

Zelda nodded. “Which never made any sense to me, why make the Sage of Water, who was always a Zora, leave their people to tend to a Temple? When it could be here, where the headwaters of the Hylia River and all of Hyrule’s water was in the first place.” She sighed. “Zelda the Enduring moved it after the quakes, for safety too. Part of me still wants to think of her as a hero of sorts. She lived through so much turbulence, and managed to come out of it with Hyrule almost stronger than before. But she commited genocide, and brought back the Sheikah to do it…” A long slow exhale. “I know the past is always complicated, but that one is still hard to swallow. Perhaps I should count myself grateful the Triforce wasn’t called during her time, I’m not sure I could live with her memories in my head too.”

Link reached out and gripped her shoulder, doing his best to comfort her. Though her perhaps felt a little guilt in not sharing that experience, that he’d refused the Heroes of the past. For good reason, but if he had their memories perhaps Zelda wouldn’t be so alone.

“Here we are.” They stepped in front of a pair of elegant doors, two spirit orbs floated on either side, guards likely. “The actual Temple is still below water, but Rutela might be in the pool itself, and not in the Temple. If she is in the Temple...We’ll have to swim down to get in, but there is a draining mechanism once we’re inside.” She swayed and Link rushed to catch her.

“Are you alright?” Minda’s voice was full of concern.

Zelda leaned against Link, and he could feel her taking deep breaths. “I’m...fine, just...got light-headed for a second there.” She shook her head as she pulled away from Link. “Sorry, don’t know what came over me, I can still help in the fight, I promise.”

Link and Midna shared a look, but Link trusted Zelda knew what she could handle and nodded. Though he’d keep an eye on her, just in case this wasn’t a one-off occurrence. If it kept happening...who would he drag her to? He supposed Kakiriko, either one, would have decent healers. The desert was certainly too far away.

Zelda appeared fine now as she strung her bow and checked the tension and her arrows. “The doors shouldn’t be locked.”

A brief push from Midna had them swinging open soundlessly.

The room inside was large, the walls covered with beautiful Zora carvings, detailing their history from their creation—though how accurate was that, Link wondered, now that he knew Termina had come first and there were Zora there—to the loss of their God Jabu Jabu to Calamity, to the present day. 

As interesting as it was, Link tore his gaze away from the flowing art to the giant pool that made up most of the room, the waters completely and perfectly still. It was the same off-gold color that all water was in the Twilight, and no matter how hard Link stared into it’s depths he couldn’t make out the bottom.

Midna looked apprehensive. “Maybe...maybe do that magic bounce thing you did before?” She asks Zelda. “That’s...a lot of water.”

A bemused, but fond smile, crossed Zelda’s mouth. “I can try it,” she replied. “But that’s no guarantee that Rutela will come for us like Dorbus did.” Without waiting for a reply from Midna, Zelda bowed her head. Her brow furrowing in concentration as she drew up enough magic to send out the small spell.

Link could feel it leave her, and caught her when she stumbled again, sweat breaking out across her brow. “Goddesses, I know this is your habitat, Midna, but I’m not enjoying it one bit.”

“I forgive you,” Midna answered primly.

A water drop hit Link right in the forehead, he gave a start, shaking it off and looking around for what might have flicked it at him. Next to him Zelda jumped. “Water? ” He asked quickly, she nodded.

“Water, wha-” Midna yelped as around them it began to rain. Which just wasn’t fair.  

Everything became fuzzy and indistinct, and Link couldn’t hear for shit. Still, he drew his sword and did his best to stay relaxed, waiting it out, waiting for the attack. Which he knew would come, that at least he knew.

A splash far louder than the rain echoed around them.

Link didn’t bother to look wildly around, Midna did that well enough for all of them, and he knew it wouldn’t reveal anything. Just faintly he could hear Zelda draw her bow. He glanced and saw her pointing it out into seemingly nothing, she drew a breath, than fired.

A bone shaking screech set Link’s teeth on edge.

But the rain stopped. Not that Link was...happy about it when he could see around the room again.

Like Midna had hoped, Zelda’s little spell had summoned Rutela to them. She wasn’t as massive as Dorbus, which was a small favor, but she...didn’t look like Link remembered, let alone like a Zora.

She floated in the air for one, and what had once been a skirt seemed to be part of her, the pink-red flesh belling like fabric in the wind. Except this ‘fabric’ had...thick arms like an octorok, if with sharp needles instead of suckers.

Her skin was more pallid too, like a fish belly, her eyes just as pale, blind maybe? Though if that was the case the rain was just as much a hindrance for her as it’d been for them. She opened her mouth, letting out a scream...then opened it again, a...a second set of needle-like teeth almost shooting out of her mouth.

Or, in more succinct terms: she was just as much a nightmare as the others.

Link tightened his grip on the sharkskin wrapped around his sword, grateful it clung to his hands instead of slipped, and charged. His ears twitching as heard Zelda shouting at Midna to find the shard. In the meantime, Link was more than willing to play distraction. At least he had the ghost of a chance fighting Rutela, unlike Dorbus.

Leaping he managed to land on one of the octorok-esque arms, luckily the non-toothy side. Rutela tried to fling him off, but he just jumped again, high enough to swipe at one of her head fins. She screamed again when he hit, her head twisting too fast, both sets of jaws trying to sink into any part of Link they could reach. The fabric of his trousers tore as he leapt away, which was better than flesh.

He slipped as he landed in the water, but managed to roll away as Rutela struck again. Unfortunately he fell into the pool of water, Rutela diving in right after and being in her element somehow made her look less like a nightmare, but more like a monster.

She surged towards him, and Link did his best to put his sword in guard, knowing he wouldn’t be able to swim away. His lungs burned for air, but he held fast, not inhaling.

Before Rutela could strike, something wrapped around Link and yanked him out. He inhaled deeply when he broke the surface, Midna’s hair pulling him the rest of the way out. Rutela shrieking as she broke the surface too and just missed Link’s foot.

“You’re welcome!” Midna shouted, even so it was muffled a little by the mask. 

“Where’s the shard?” Link managed to ask before having to leap out of the way of Rutela once more. He swung his sword, managing to catch the tip of a tentacle, hoping the damage he’d done so far wouldn’t cause her too much trouble when she was herself again.

Minda’s hair shot out again, tangling with Rutela, who’s teeth, all of them, did their best to slice through the strands. “I think it’s under her...skirts.”

Link’s eyebrows shot up.

“It’s somewhere in her torso,” Midna’s voice was testy. “But I can’t see it in her chest. So you’re gonna have to get personal.” Her hair tangled with Rutela even more, managing to pry some of her tentacles away from the others, though Link still wasn’t looking forward to ‘getting personal.’ 

More hair surged from Midna, and how much did she have?, almost cocooning Rutela completely, thankfully muffling her shrieks. It managed to pry her tentacles and the pallid skin between them further apart, giving Link a better look of what lay under it all.

Which was a lot of teeth, far more than Link was comfortable with, if he was honest.

Before he could think more about that, Zelda was there, eyes narrowing as she just... reached in and pulled. Link tossed his sword away in order to catch her when she stumbled back, triumphantly holding a shard of dark glass.

Once more the Twilight began to fade and Rutela shrank to her normal size, she stirred when the guards rushed in, spears brandished at them, though in their eyes Link could tell they didn’t quite know what to make of the situation. A fact Link could have taken advantage of, if he thought they would actually come to any harm.

The guard on the left stilled, eyes widening. “Princess Zelda!”

Yeah, things were going to be fine.

Chapter 27: Part 3: The Way of All Things

Notes:

Kudos to anyone who gets my semi-obscure nerdy reference, I couldn't help myself.

He ached everywhere, to where even thinking hurt. So it was a good thing he didn’t have to think, he could just...lay there and exist.

“Ma...Master?” A familiar yet not voice spoke.

Somehow he managed to pry an eyelid open. To see a thin, pale man, gaudily dressed, wringing his hands. “Please don’t make me do that again, Master, it...was not pleasant.”

Hurt too much to even groan, so he didn’t. Just lie there, existing. “Are you alright, Master? Um…”

Before the pale man could say anything more the world shook. Now he groaned, because well, he was already in pain from being shaken, he might as well express his disapproval of it while he was at it. When it stopped there was a dark shape that he could somehow see despite his closed eyes.

The shape coalesced into something more like a woman, though barely that even. “What have you done?” One voice yet many spoke. “If I’d have need of a mortal, I would have let you remain so.” The almost-woman moved, and he pried open an eyelid again, the true sight of her should have horrified, but he also somehow already knew it.

She walked over to a bell, which looked to be the size of her head. Before she could get closer, the pale man came between her. “Master bade me, that if anything was...made...I would not allow anyone to touch it, that includes you, Lady Majora.”

Majora, right, his...one of his mothers.

If she seemed angered by the man attempting to block her way, it didn’t show in her almost-body. Instead she turned back at him, eyes narrowed. “You threw away Godhood.” She sounded more confused than anything.

He still ached, but somehow managed to speak. “I will return to it, soon enough by your standards,” his voice had the echoing ring of a bell. “But you need me not in your little war. I was...happy, you know, before you returned me to who I’d been.”

“I suppose.” She crouched by him again. “Mortals die, then what, you are a God for a century, only to do it all over again?” She clicked her tongue. “Though I am proud in a way, such a tricksy thing, to thread the needle.” A huff. “More Nayru’s art than my own.”

She stood. “Mortals are only fun for a season, then they break and where’s the fun in that? But I’m sure you’ll learn that soon enough, and know how to return. I’m sure I’ll be too busy to say I told you so.” She vanished.

The pale man relaxed, likely knowing if she’d really wanted the bell, he would have been helpless to stop her. “Master?” He floated over to him.

Another groan. “Let me sleep, Giraham,” ah that was the man’s name. Expect he wasn’t a man, just like Majora hadn’t truly been a woman. “I’m tired. Wake me when the sun rises next.”

-

He ached less when Giraham woke him, though he was beset by a new problem, hunger.

Carefully he pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around, a little wooded grove of some sort, which normally would have been good for finding food, except every tree and blade of grass around him was... dead. His eyes drifted to the bell, which had a dark aura about it. Had the destruction happened as a result of whatever he’d done? Or had it happened later, the bell leeching the life around it?

He couldn’t quite experiment to find out. “Giraham, where are we?”

The sword leapt to attention. “We are close to a place called Kakariko, Master, you seemed to think the pervasiveness of Death would help you in your working.” Hmm, had he? That part of him that dealt with memories was still a bit shaky.

“Do you think they would attack if I went and asked for food?”

A question that seemed to throw Giraham. “I...do not think so. They are Sheikah,” he sneered distastefully. “But considering who they likely think you are, Master, they might not attack.”

Perhaps there was a question he should have asked. “And who do they think I am?”

“Hylia’s Get named you Ghananorv fa’Dragahmire, King of the Gerudo. Which are a desert-going peoples not truly of Hyrule,” Giraham answered dutifully.

A king? Well most would certainly hesitate to kill one such as that, he, Ghanonorv?, supposed. “Is that who I truly am?” He asked. Hopefully his memories would return in due time and he would know for sure, but for now, Giraham was the only thing he could trust.

“I...do not know, Master. When I was sealed away you were already...dead,” Giraham’s tone suggests he would’ve preferred not to say that at all. “And when you freed me it was as Demise. Though you yourself have claimed a strange draw to Hylia’s Get and her Hero, you even saved them, which is what brought about this.” He gestures to Ghanonorv—it was as good a name as any—and the bell and the woods.

Ghanonorv stands, and looks down at himself to see he only wears a dark skirt, not even shoes. The dead grass puffs into ash as he wiggles his toes. “Find me something to wrap and carry that in,” he points to the bell. Instinctively he knows to touch it with his bare hands would be to undo all the work he’d done, even if he didn’t truly know what the work had been—except to part himself from his immortality.

A bow and Giraham departed, leaving  Ghananorv alone with his thoughts, which are still full of questions. Perhaps when he gets to Kakariko he’ll be able to ask more.

-

He feels tired when they, well he to be more correct, given Giraham was now a sword against his back, arrive in Kakariko. There was a willowy, dark haired man at the gate, who’s eyes widened when he saw Ghananorv. “Wait here please!” He squeaked before rushing off.

Ghananorv waited, gratefully leaning against the gate. The leather bag holding the cloth wrapped bell bumping against his waist.

An older woman approached with the young guard, who’s eyes also widened upon seeing him. “Well, Lady of Dance be damned, somehow she did it. Follow me, your Majesty.” She didn’t bow, only turned on her heel and began heading into town.

He followed, even as his body protested. “I hope this means I’m getting food.” He shivered as a cool breeze picked up. “Clothes would not be unwelcome either.”

The woman, who still hadn't introduced herself, snorted. “Food, we can do. Clothes might be another matter. Sheikah aren’t quite the same build as Gerudo, your Majesty.” 

No, he looked around, they were not. He didn’t say anything more, not until they arrive at a neat cottage. Though she’d stopped one of the other Sheikah and instructed them to get food, and lots of it, she still led him into her kitchen, setting a kettle on to boil and pulling out tea leaves. “So, then, your Majesty. Would you care to explain how you came to Kakariko nearly naked?”

“There is not much to tell,” he answered, but did his best anyway. He wrapped his hand around what seemed to be a ridiculously small cup when she handed it to him. He did not mention the bell, but could see her glance at his satchel twice.

She hummed. “So then, you have no idea where Princess Zelda and Link are.”

The names tugged at him, the same two Giraham had mentioned earlier. “No,” he finally answered. “Though I think I would like to know.” His tone was suggestive, though not a question.

She stared at him for a while with her red eyes. “I’ll think about it. You might be her betrothed, but…” She seemed disinclined to finish her thought

So they wouldn’t kill him, but neither were they going to be overly friendly. Shouldn’t they treat a king better? Especially one that was apparently going to marry their princess? “You do not like me,” he finished for her. “Though I cannot recall having ever done your or yours harm?” He made it a question, for perhaps it was something only she perceived as a slight.

“No,” she sounded reluctant to admit it. “But I am a Sage, and my concern is with keeping the balance of the world. You, oh curse of Demise, are not part of that balance, no matter how deeply woven into the world you are.”

Before he could reply there was a knock at the door, and soon a small stream of Sheikah filed through, depositing dishes. Perhaps, considering her dislike, he should have been wary of poisons, but he found himself certain that should she try something like that he could withstand it. FInally they were alone again and he piled a plate high with food, digging in eagerly. He spoke in between bites. “And what if I told you I was the son of the ‘Lady of Dance’ you all revere so?”

“So you would be part of the camp that argues Din, then? I’m afraid that doesn’t sway my feelings. You are still Demise, bringer of Calamity, and Doom of Hyrule if you had your druthers. But for Zelda’s sake, I’ll feed you and clothe you before sending you on your way. And hope that there are pieces of her to pick up when you betray her.”

Ghananorv sighed. “No, not Din. Did Zelda,” the name felt strange on his tongue, but right. “Not tell you of our adventures when we disappeared from here?” He luckily was able to hide his surprise at his own words with more eating. He had been with them before? If this woman was right about him being Zelda’s betrothed he supposed that made sense, nevermind the thought that they had left ‘here.’ That was actually something of a hazy memory he could recall, a world of masks and an ever looming moon.

“Not everything,” she again didn't seem to enjoy admitting that. “But she did mention something about another Goddess, never known to our world, save through the stories of others.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure how well I believe it.”

A snort. “I can assure you she is real as real can be, regardless of whether or not you believe.”

She let out a brief laugh “Theology is the last thing I expected to argue with you about, though I suppose it is better than us trying to kill each other.”

“I suppose,” he agreed. Though he knew if it came down to a fight he would win.

Finally his hunger faded and he felt sated. “Thank you, for the food.” She might not like him, but he could be polite. “Now, will you be able to find me clothes? And perhaps a look at a map?”

She sighed. “I’ll let you look at the map while I terrorize the students over clothes, though we technically frown upon applicants as big as you, so you might be out of luck.” Well it would at least be a start, which was better than nothing.

The map was in her little cottage, and he supposed her narrowed eyes were supposed to suggest he should stay in this room otherwise there would be consequences. He wasn’t particularly bothered by it, he’d died quite a few times, anything she could think up likely wouldn’t measure up—even considering the idea of fates worse than death.

He found himself breathing in deep after she departed, the solitude a little nice, especially when he could tell there was no one in the house with him. Turning his attention to the map, he studied it, hoping he could figure out where Zelda...Link, and their companion—he should know her name, he should but it slipped through his mind.

“Master,” Giraham’s voice is soft. “Before you left them after the volcano, Hylia’s Get gave you something, I believe it’s in a pocket somewhere.”

“Zelda,” Ghananorv corrected absently. “Call them Link and Zelda, and do you happen to recall their companion’s name?” He asked as he dug through his skirt pockets. Eventually pulling out an earring of pale blue stone and pale golden metal. It hummed with magic in his hands and closing his eyes he focused on it.

It seemed to tug him in a direction, though turning towards that wall in the house gave him no indication of which direction that truly was. With a thoughtful frown on his face he took the map off the wall—he supposed the woman could, in fact, like him less, but he didn’t quite care.

Carefully he spread it on the floor. Letting the earring dangle from his fingers, praying that this idea worked.

The earring seemed to think about things too, before the stone lifted, pointing west and north. Letting himself feel a surge of triumph he moved the earring that way, letting it lead him along until he came to a spot about halfway between Zora’s Domain and the Rito Mountains.

Well if clothes were going to be a problem, than asking for snowquill gear was going to be impossible.

Tucking the earring away he put his hands on the map, focusing and humming a little tune to himself. Standing he moves to the wall where the map had been and put his hands there, humming the same tune in reverse.

In a blink a magical copy of the map hung on the wall and he quickly folded up the true one, putting it in his bag next to the bell. His eyes roamed around the rest of the room, a library of sorts it appeared, and deciding to be polite enough to remain in the room he grabbed a book off the shelf and made himself comfortable on the floor—he didn’t trust the chairs here one bit.

He was about a dozen pages in when he could feel the spark of the woman, that was...new, approaching. The sounds of her entering the house soon following. “Well,” she began as she stepped into the library, a pile of clothes in her hands. “We did our best, and I’m getting a better bag made up for you with food and supplies. Have an idea of where you’re going?” She inclined her head towards the map, not seeming to sense it was magic and not paper

“I do,” he answered. The raise of her eyebrows suggested she wanted him to elaborate, but he didn’t agree. “And supplies would be welcome.” It was going to be a long trip to the mountains after all. Especially when his...quarry had horses and he didn’t.

-

He reached Goron City in a day, where he managed to some more supplies—among the ‘gifts’ from the Sheikah had been a small pouch of rupees—but unsurprisingly no snowquill. Not that he’d be able to afford it with the money he did have. At least he managed to get some Goron spice, the Sheikah food serviceable, but bland to him.

On the road Giraham happily floated next to him, not seeming to find his lack of memory strange. “You seemed to not remember things when you freed me, Master. This just seems to be that again,” he’d explained. And just as willingly recounted all they’d done since Giraham was freed—with little commentary that seemed designed to sway him. Ghananorv supposed that was thinking poorly of his sword, after all it served him; but it did think for itself, and clearly had opinions.

He could have dipped south to reach Zora’s Domain himself and perhaps get more supplies and ask about snowquill, but that would take two days, and going around got him closer to them. He checked daily with the map he’d stolen, their progress was slowing and at this rate he might catch up.

The first true setback came when they came across an umber wall covered in symbols—chief among them, he found himself noting, was the Sheikah’s eye, if without the tear. The Twilight Barrier. “Can you pass through?” 

Giraham nodded. “In this form, or as a sword. Whatever is causing the physical barrier doesn’t seem to think me worthy of it’s notice. And you could too, when you were as Demise. Likely because you were a God and this is mortal magic, even patronized by Calamity as it is.” Which was good to know, but not useful right now.

Which was about when he realized there was something vibrating in his satchel. Setting it on the ground he opened it, quickly discovering it was the bell. He unwrapped it carefully, doing his best to keep the fabric between his skin and the metal. It continued to vibrate, the sound strange with the clapper just resting against the metal of the bell itself.

Clearly something in the bell was reacting to the Twili magic, but he still hesitated to ring it. He didn’t have a handle to properly ring it with to start, nevermind that he had no idea what ringing the bell would do . “Can you touch it?” He asked.

Again, Giraham nodded. “It is a part of you, and I am...mostly immune to your magics, Master.” Well that was something, at least.

Though he knew without asking that Giraham couldn’t turn into anything other than a sword, and the bell was too small to conceive of just stabbing it with Giraham and using it like that, though he did have to huff at the ridiculous image it conjured.

“Ring it,” he told Giraham, offering it up.

Giraham didn’t argue, though he supposed the sword wouldn’t really ever argue. It did look quite awkward to see the slighter man holding the bell by the top. But he did his best to raise the bell up and bring it down.

The sound made Ghananorv’s heart still in his chest, his lungs hold. He felt as if he were two people, being torn apart at the seams. He did his best to hold himself, remember he was alive and well.

The sound also made a crack in the wall. Not an excessively large one, but certainly big enough for him to pass through. Which he did without hesitation, Giraham floating after, they carefully wrapped the bell up again and tucked it away. Slowly, he noted, the crack began to seal up.

The Twilight was...uncomfortable, and after a few steps he found himself being wracked with a different sort of agonizing pain. Which at least firmly reminded him he was alive.

The magic, there was nothing else it could be, tore at him. Making him roar and fall to the ground, barely noticing Giraham fluttering around him, clearly concerned.

Bones popped, ligaments tore, the magic reshaping him against his will. He tried to fight it, but it was useless, the barrier he might have been able to overcome with the help of his trapped Godhood, but the natural magics of the land? That would require being a God again, after he’d worked so hard to be mortal.

So he gave up, let the magic do what it would. It hurt, but a little less.

Finally it passed, and he lay there, panting, letting himself recover.

Four legs were both easier and harder to find his balance on. His eyesight was...not the best, but he could smell well enough to make up for it he supposed. He could still see Giraham who was tying the strap of his satchel to fix it, it must have torn while he was changing. He grunted as Giraham slung it over his own shoulders. Well, there was the biggest problem of being whatever he’d turned into, he couldn’t fucking speak.

Giraham still came to attention, seeming to understand him enough. “You are...a boar? I believe that is the name for that animal, though quite larger than any I can recall ever seeing.”

He supposed that made sense. Boars were Din’s creature, and she was one of his Mothers. Why hadn’t Link and Zelda been transformed then when he’d seen them at Death Mountain? He made himself think back, focusing as best he could on the scraps of memory.

They...hadn't been as he expected them to be...there’d been markings on them, that the eye couldn’t quite make out, but magic could. Not the magic of this place, but of Twilight. Midna’s doing, no doubt. Hopefully she could do it again when he found them, because this did him no good.

-

The tracking magic of the earring at least worked as well for Giraham as it did for Ghananorv, so they didn’t lose time on that front, a small blessing. Not that the ones they were tracked seemed to know what they were doing. Moving erratically as if they were unsure of where they were going.

The snow wasn’t cold, nor did more seem to be about to fall in the near future, and being as large as he was made it somewhat easier to move through said snow. And he found himself uncertain if the air wasn’t cold as well, or if he just couldn’t feel it.

“More of those creatures, Master.”

He grunted, turning in the direction Giraham pointed and charging, barely feeling the tree he crashed through on the way. He crashed into the beasts too, strange creatures of Twilight and Malice. Who fell easily enough to his tusks, and the ones he couldn’t quite get, Giraham handed, sword flashing in the dim light. Ghananorv shook his head to clear it, and waited for Giraham to check him over for injuries. Pain, it seemed, was not something Ghananorv felt, as they’d discovered after their first encounter, and it wouldn’t do him much good to die from fever, or bleeding out.

Giraham gave the all-clear, they checked the map—Zelda and the others appeared to have finally stopped—and headed on their way.

The narrow rocky paths ahead were going to do him no favors, but circling the mountain would take a few extra days and he felt he’d already waited long enough—it had taken him a week to get to the barrier, and who knew how long he’d been traveling after that.

They were halfway up the path when a screech rent the air. The sound sending some part of Ghananrov’s brain into a panic. He marshalled his thoughts and made himself stand still, knowing that if he went careening down the path he would kill himself.

It came again, the sound impossible to pinpoint, though he had a strange measure of certainty that if he did find the sound, he’d find Zelda and the others along with the thing making the noise.

It was a struggle to make himself go forward, but he managed. Girham floated ahead, his sword at the ready again. “I don’t see anything, Master. They must be further away.”

Shale came out from under one of Ghananorv’s back hooves and he threw his weight onto the other three, which pitched him forward, but meant he didn’t lose his balance as much. Finally he crested the ridge, and though he couldn’t see, he could still send out a feeler of magic in an attempt to pinpoint anything at this point.

A knot of Twilight Magic shone bright through his sight, still a ways away. He gave a grunt and used a tusk to motion. Giraham nodded. “I’ll scout ahead, stay here, please, Master. I’ll return shortly.”

He gave a grunt of agreement and settled against the ground, eyes dimly making out the wide valley below him. Which he was certain was very pretty, if one could see the details. 

Magic shivered in the air, the world around him shifting and changing as Twilight shattered and Hyrule reclaimed the land. Cold sunk into him, though not deeply. Thought it was quickly overcome by pain once more as he shifted back.

Ghananorv lay panting, almost grateful for the snow as it seemed to help soothe him.

At least until the cold wetness got into his bones and his teeth began to chatter. He found himself strongly regretting not picking up any gear. Gritting his teeth he made himself focus. Fire, he needed fire, any way that he could get it until Giraham returned and could lead him hopefully to safer climes. 

Magic, it turned out, was hard to focus on when you were cold and possibly getting colder. Ghananorv clenched his jaw, drawing up a memory, Din’s Day in the desert, the almost searing heat of midday, that sent everyone hiding inside, even though it was a Holy Day and the new year. He made that memory, precious as it was, around him. 

The first sign he’d succeeded was the feeling of water trickling into his coat, warm water at that. He breathed deep, the hot air searing his lungs in the best way possible. Opening his eyes he looked around, all the snow in about a five foot radius had melted, the water rushing towards the snow downhill, melting some of it as well. 

He could feel the magic dragging on him barely a second later. He could only hope Giraham returned soon.

Sweat began to trickle down his brow, and he took off his coat, hoping that when the magic began to fail he would be coherent enough to put it back on. He had yet to cross the mountains back home, but a memory of a lesson bubbled up, that letting his clothes get wet would be back, he supposed sweat counted in that. Luckily there were some now dry rocks close by and he laid his coat out to let it dry.

Giraham had, of course, taken the bag with him, so Ghananorv didn’t have food to help offset the strain. He sat in lotus position and closing his eyes, began to breathe evenly, hoping that keeping himself in a slow state would make the magic last longer. He just had to hold out a little bit longer.

That he’d remembered something was good. Meant the rest of his memories might return, given time and some patience. He would remember who he fully was, and not just what people told him about himself.

The sound of wingbeats filled the air, Ghananorv opened his eyes, expecting a flock of birds to be passing—which would be comforting in a sort of way. And he did see birds, in a way, just...much larger ones. Though he was sure the Rito would be mildly insulted to be called ‘large birds.’ 

Giraham zipped ahead. “Master! You’re back in your normal shape!”

A smile crossed Ghananorv’s lips. “Yes, it happened when the Twilight broke.”

The three Rito landed, carefully placing the large square of cloth they were carrying down. “I guess a human is easier to deal with than a boar,” the one who spoke had black feathers that shone almost purple in the light, trimmed in gold. “If you could get in the sling, sir, we can take you to the town.”

Ah, that was what the cloth was, then. Ghananorv put the coat back on, and let the magic begin to fall. If he was a King, then such an embarrassing way to travel was likely beneath him. However he’d spent quite a lot of magic to keep himself alive, and if he insisted on walking on his own, he would likely faint. Resulting in him being carried anyways. At least doing it of his own free will meant he could walk out when they landed.

So he stepped into the sling, and it took a bit for him to find a comfortable position once the Rito lifted it a little off the ground. Soon though everyone was pleased enough and he was flying.

Which would perhaps be a bit more impressive if he could see where he was going, but that was alright. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be pleasant, considering how the wind was already biting through the sling and his clothes.

Thankfully the trip was fairly short, and as they come in to land, the sling was tilted enough that he could make out the landing platform rapidly growing closer. Two pale humans wrapped up in snowquill paced the far end of the platform, and even if he didn’t quite remember them, Ghananorv found his heart leapt at the sight of them. Link and Zelda.

The landing was smoother than he thought it would be, and he was grateful for the solid wood beneath his feet, even if it was still colder than a dead man’s heart.

All thoughts of cold vanished however as the two Hylians rushed to him, their eyes bright and cheeks red—from the cold, but he could hope it was for him. “Ghan!” Zelda cried as she leapt into his arms. He doesn’t stagger to catch her, but then Link leapt after and the two of them were enough to make him take a step back.

“You’re back,” loving relief filled Zelda’s voice as she pulled away enough to look him in the eye, tears gathering at the corners of her own.

“I am,” he answered. Finding a smile crossing his face.

Link beamed, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Chapter 28: Part 3: The Way of All Things

Zelda stared at the copper bell, the metal gleaming in the bright morning sunlight. Her fingers itched to touch it, despite Ghan’s request not to. It practically reeked of magic and she wanted to understand it. “And you don’t remember how you made it?” She asked again.

Instead of speaking, Ghan shook his head, still eagerly devouring any food the Rito would put in front of him. That the liberal use of spice didn’t disturb him was no surprise, though it was a bit much for Zelda’s palette, even now that she’d grown used to Gerudo cuisine.

Against the wooden railing behind him, Giraham was propped, seeming content to remain in his sword form for now. Though part of her wished he was in his person shape so she could ask him about it. Because this was something completely unheard of and Zelda wanted to be the one to document it. Though she wondered if she should, how many people might use the magics that would make a God a mortal for ill purposes? Or try to reverse-engineer the spell in an attempt to become a God?

The thought made his shiver, and Link made a questioning sound, scooting closer.

So perhaps, perhaps not, as much as she might wish to. Knowing as much as she could about it would have to satisfy. If she could get even that.

Ghan finally seemed to be slowing on the food front, which appeared to relieve the Rito hovering by the door as much as it did Zelda. According to Ghan himself he’d used up quite a bit of magic to keep himself warm and alive and worrying about him was likely better than worrying about Midna, currently fast asleep and recovering from her own injuries from fighting Ukoll.

“I just woke up as myself,” Ghan elaborated as he put his empty bowl down. “With little to no memory, again, I gather,” he huffed. “And that was there beside me. I know that if I touch it again I will...die, I suppose and become Demise again, and that it will likely kill anyone truly alive who touches it.” Zelda’s fingers stopped itching to touch it.

“And it worked against the Twilight? ” Link’s curiosity was clear. Though it would be nice to not have to experience Midna pulling them in, not that there were many times that would happen anymore. 

Another nod. “I couldn’t figure out how to ring it without touching it, but Giraham managed it well enough. I’m not sure I can put a handle on it, unless it were made of pure magic, and I don’t know if I have the skills to do that?” That it was a question makes her ache a little. She wanted Ghan back, but he didn’t seem to remember anything...again.

“I’m not sure you could make something out of magic, even before you became Demise,” Zelda ventured. “At least not that you showed me.” The not-quite-old hurt made itself known. “Though you Gerudo know how to weave magic into all sorts of things, so clearly you could learn. But perhaps Midna could help you when she recovers, weaving wholecloth out of magic seems to be a Twili skill.”

He grunted. “Where is she, anyways?”

“Sleeping,” Link answered. “She got grazed really badly while we were fighting and Zelda had to put her under while she worked her healing magic.”

“She should be completely fine when she wakes up,” Zelda elaborated. “Having the Triforce of Power will help in that regard, but it’s best she just sleep through the whole experience.” She took a deep breath, pushing past the panic that threatened to rise again. They were winning and she had Ghan back, there was no reason to panic. She should be celebrating , as wrong as it felt.

Gan nodded. Then let out a jaw cracking yawn. “I hope we don’t have anywhere pressing to be. I fear I could sleep for a decade.”

Zelda trembled. “Please don’t joke about that,” her voice is low and strained. “We were gone from Hyrule and the Desert for forty years, Ghan, almost half a lifetime. Your sister and mother are the same age now. I’m…” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m terrified of reaching the Castle and finding my father. Who let this happen!”

Tears begin to gather at the corners of her eyes, and she lets Link pull her to them, wrapping her in a hug.

There was a long moment of silence. “Apologies,” Ghan finally spoke. “I did not mean to be insensitive.” He took a slow, deep breath. “If, if you have nothing pressing to attend to, I...would not mind company while I sleep?”

-

Ghan’s hesitation was a strange thing for Link to see. They were used to him being a King, perhaps a king who still asked after his people and deeply cared about the answer, but a king nonetheless. Kings did not hesitate, could not. At least in public, in front of others.

And there were others, Giraham against the railing, the female Rito kneeling by the door, the fact that this ‘room’ they were in was open to the air, and anyone with a keen ear, or eye, could just observe them and know what was going on. Link perhaps didn’t feel... comfortable.

That they were nearly a hundred feet up in the air in a tree barely warranted a concern, being in the open , where anyone could see such vulnerability…

No, Link didn’t like it one bit.

“We have nothing,” Link replied for the both of them. “We need to rest, and we can’t go anywhere anyways until Midna wakes up.” The recovery time was necessary, if distasteful in a way. There was only the Forest Temple and the Castle left, after all. Most would think they should push on, finish it now.

That, Link knew full well, would only lead to their deaths. By the Lost Woods at the very least. The tired and the unwary would draw attention like flies to honey. Better to rest in friendly territory while they had the chance.

Ghan nodded, rising he walked over to them, and with strangely exciting ease scooped up both Link and Zelda. The Rito practically squawking in surprise as Ghan strode past her. Link bit the inside of their cheek to keep from laughing.

Not that Ghan got far, a Gerudo woman wrapped in snowquill gear and with a head more covered in feathers than hair, meeting them as Ghan turned a corner. She beamed brightly, giving a low bow. “My King,” she spoke in Sa’suresh and it was almost comforting to hear. “It is good to see you whole and hale.” If she thought anything strange about him carrying Hylians around like children she clearly thought better than to ask.

“It is good to see you as well, Sister.” He inclined his head. “You must forgive me though, for I have been through trying times and it has cost me my memories for now.” He at least sounded like Link remembered, self-assured and in control.

Her eyes widened. “I, am sorry for such a loss, my King, and will pray to your mother that she might steal it back.” She gave a low bow. “Until then, will you permit me to write to our people that you are well?”

“You may, Ambassador. It will be good of them to know, I have elsewhere to be.” He shifted Link and Zelda as if to suggest what that ‘elsewhere’ might be, making Zelda turn pink. Link could feel their own ears burning as well. Though it wasn’t exactly wrong, it was certainly implying more than was going to happen.

Not that the woman seemed to mind. She bowed low again. “Of course, my King. Do not let me keep you.”

Ghan nodded and began heading up the stairs once more.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Zelda asked as they climbed another flight. Link supposed it was a good question, though perhaps uncomfortable.

“The Rito prefer to keep their nests high, while doing their trading lower down where other races might feel more comfortable,” Ghan rattled off, as if reciting from memory. “I suppose there are ‘nests’ marked for Hylian dignitaries, and Gerudo ones, though the Ambassador has likely claimed that for herself, so I’ll keep going until I see the Triforce carved onto an archway.”

Zelda buried her face in Ghan’s shoulder, her own shoulders shaking.

“You’re not wrong,” Link supplied since Zelda seemed unable to.

Ghan grunted and continued, having apparently recovered all his energy. Or the lure of a warm bed was better than a hard one and Ghan would walk to the ends of the world if it meant getting one. A sentiment Link knew very well.

They did, in fact, come across the nest with the Triforce carved into the archway, along with winged lions and other assorted iconography associated with the Hylrulean royal family. It was a larger nest than some, but still only the one room, with a firepit in the middle and hammocks along the sides. Though here there were ‘walls’ of a sort, the wood intricately carved into vines, flowers, and leaves to block a good portion of the wind out—and to keep flightless humans from falling over the side as well.

Taking this in all at once Ghan grunted. He set Link and Zelda down, then flicked his hand. A fireball flying towards the pit and igniting the wood.

“Ghan!” Zelda chided. “You’re not supposed to use more magic.” She trailed after him, trying to get him to stop as he moved around, pulling down cushions, blankets, and pillows. Link wisely stood out of the way, if they wanted to ‘argue,’ they weren’t going to stop them.

Everything piled up, Ghan began to arrange it. Soon ending up with something approximating a  bed that could fit three people. Seemingly satisfied with it he undressed—not that he had much to take off, and Link was surprised they hadn’t complained about the chill since they arrived at the town.

Link looked away, they might have seen him naked before, but that didn’t mean they were comfortable with it. Ghan, after all, was...a lot to take in. Link’s ears burned even more at the thought.

Even Zelda let out an ‘eep,’ cheeks turning pink, and she was practically married to Ghan.

A thought that should have made things more awkward, but thankfully didn’t.

“Well?” Ghan’s voice floated from the bed. “I do believe you two agreed to join me?”

Sharing a look, Link and Zelda quickly undressed to their underthings. Link sighing in relief when they crawled into the covers after Zelda, to find it already toasty warm. A sound of pleasure.

Ghan chuckled as his arm came to wrap around the both of them, tugging them closer until Zelda was all but trapped between him and Link. “Sleep well,” Ghan spoke with a yawn. His eyes closed as he fell into sleep immediately.

Zelda followed soon after, but Link remained away for a time, mind whirling. Still not quite able to believe they’d had a stroke of luck this good. They were waiting for the ‘blin to pop out of the cake and ruin it all. Or for it to fade away when he woke up like a Kokiri trick…

The Kokiri, Goddesses, how had they fared with the Twilight? They were the most magical of all the sentients of Hyrule, had that helped them escape the Twilight’s effects? Or if not, were they spirit orbs like all the rest, or something perhaps worse because of all their magic?

Stressing out about it wasn’t going to Link any good right now. What if only did you so much good before it crippled you, as Zelda might say. 

Trying to drive their circling thoughts away they buried their face in Zelda’s hair, inhaling the scents of lavender and roses. A note of sandalwood crept into her floral scent. From Ghan, Link realized. The smell strangely calming combined with Zelda’s. Finally they were lured into sleep.

-

Midna woke, aching everywhere. Too much to try and lift herself up to look around, though she felt a little on the chilly side. Slowly she stretched each part of her body, doing her best to ease some of the ache.

Which must have been less subtle than Midna thought, because halfway through a...giant bird? appeared in her line of vision. “Oh, good,” the bird...no, Zelda and Link had called them Rito, said. “I’ll get Princess Zelda, don’t try to move any more please.” She? He? spoke with a healer’s bluntness and Midna reluctantly resumed just lying there as the Rito vanished.

An eternity later Zelda’s voice reached her ears, speaking excitedly to someone. A deeper voice, one that twinged as familiar, interrupted her, making her huff in annoyance.

Footsteps, then Link and Zelda were there. “Oh, thank the Goddesses you’re alright, Midna. We were worried there.”

Something in Midna’s chest warmed, and she did her best to smile back. Speech was likely beyond her at the moment if she hurt this much still.

“I’m glad, too,” that voice said. Before her addled mind could offer up suggestions as to who it might be, Ghananorv stepped into her field of view and her eyes widened. Golden light burst from her chest and before anyone could blink the golden wolf stood over her, growing at the King.

Who seemed wholly unconcerned with this sudden event. His copper eyes stared flatly at the wolf. “I will banish you. For such a personal guard should not let past biases cloud his vision of who is friend and who is foe. You will get your charge killed because you cannot look beyond the past and realize the world has changed.” He did something and there was a flash of copper.

One that consumed the wolf for a moment, and when it faded a young man stood in the wolf’s place, semi-transparent and dressed in green. “You may speak, if going on a diatribe makes you feel better,” Ghananorv said, sounding tired.

“You shouldn’t be exerting yourself,” Zelda chided. “You don’t have the magical reserves you once did.”

Ghananorv waved her off, but did stumble back a step, out of Midna’s vision. The young man in green snarled and lunged . A snarl of anger sounded from the left at something. “Zelda, Link, would one of you please help me sit upright.”

Zelda made a noise, as if she were going to protest, but warm hands slipped under Midna’s back, helping her to sit up right. Link hovering in case...they needed to catch her.

The wolf-man was charging at Ghananorv, only to pass right through him. Ghananorv seemed only mildly annoyed by this fact. “You are no poe, or redead to affect the living,” he told the spirit firmly. Which only seemed to anger the spirit more.

“Wolf,” Midna did her best to speak like the queen she almost was. “You serve me, not your own agenda. Come and kneel,” speaking was taking a lot out of her. Without thinking she drew from the Triforce, mildly surprised she still had it, the power filling her up and adding steel to her voice. “Or do you renounce your oaths to the Throne?”

The spirit, Link? Hadn’t the living one said this was the last Hero of Hyrule, strangely also named Link, stilled. Anger sparking from his pale eyes. But at least he’d stopped trying to attack Ghananorv so that was a start.

“Come,” she snapped. “Or I shall call you traitor and have him banish you as he’s threatened.” How he might go about that was beyond her, but she was certain he could, in fact, do it. That she had to do this right after waking up from...right the Wind Sage had had razor sharp feathers and Midna had forgotten to duck, a sigh left her.

The spirit came, though clearly reluctantly, and knelt in front of her. “Have you not sworn to protect the life of the Twili’s ruler?”

“I have,” he gritted out. His voice was quite pleasing, even in anger.

“And what has King Ghananorv done? Why have you not come to my defense when I’ve fought cultists and monsters? You would attack an ally over my enemies?” When she put it that way, it was a wonder he hadn’t been dismissed earlier. Especially considering she’d likely come close to dying.

The spirit glowered. “The king, is the King of all Evil. And he,” he inclined his head towards Link. “Has had your safety well in hand, my Queen.”

Link barred their teeth and stuck both their pinkies up.

“That means they don’t like you,” Zelda explained to the spirit, as if it weren’t obvious. “I know who you are, Hero of Time, as you know who I am. This is not your past, and the world is far different than you remember. Calamity has no power here, save what Zant grants it, and I am saddened to see you try and attack one who has lied his life down to protect countries not his own.”

The spirit, or Hero worked too, Midna supposed, seemed shocked by Zelda’s words. Yet not utterly cowed. Midna sighed. “If you will not defend me while I am truly in danger, then why should I keep you as my guard? Especially when you seem unwilling to do your job.” She’d survived so far, no thanks to him, and perhaps it would be for the best.

The Hero said nothing. Only bowed his head. 

Ghananorv pushed himself upright. “I will return,” he said.

When he left, the Hero raised his head up. “I did not know the bargain I made in life would hold me beyond death.”

“Did we hide our magics from you?” Midna asked. “Did you not see us call our ancestors and have them answer? How we would call and call for our Goddess, hoping that in death she might answer? Or did you think you would be the exception, not being Twili? It is in the contract you made with that first King, that you did not understand after we tried to explain is partly your own fault.”

“We cannot only be defined by our pasts,” Zelda spoke again. “What has come before is important, but what is ahead is more important still. If you cannot understand, then perhaps it is best for you to be left behind.” There was an unforgiving note to her voice, was she thinking of her father who she was plotting to overthrow?

The Hero looked hurt. “As children you showed him to me and named him a liar and traitor, and those words proved true. How can you be deceived now?”

Zelda’s eyes hardened. “Because I am blessed by Wisdom and know that what his past lives might have done does not define who he is now . You have traveled with us for as long as Midna has, you should have been able to see that for yourself. Instead you are blinded by prejudice.” She stepped towards him. Reaching out she managed to rest a hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry that you fought a war no one remembers, that my previous self didn’t give you the choice you deserved. But we can only change the future.”

“Is that not changing the past too?” He asked, though his voice was resigned.

Before anyone could answer that philosophical quandary, Ghananorv had returned, a sizable wrapped bundle in his hands. “Luckily I don’t think I have to ring it for this. That is, if we’ve decided to help him move on to the afterlife.”

“Would you like to move on?” Midna found herself asking. She wouldn’t force him, though if he remained she would have to find some way to contain him so he didn’t cause more trouble.

The Hero said nothing for a long while, but then nodded. “I did not mean to live beyond my death, certainly never long enough to return to my home world and find it vastly changed from what I knew. Though I cannot completely regret all that came before.” His smile was wan. “If you get to the lost forest and find a Kokiri named Saria, tell her...tell her I missed her most of all.” 

Ghananorv unwrapped the bundle to reveal a beautiful copper bell. “Just touch it,” he told the Hero. “And you will pass on.”

Despite his wish to pass on, Midna could tell he almost refused because Ghananorv had been the one to tell him. He said nothing though, instead rising and walking over to the bell, carefully laying a hand upon it—clearly in case it was a trap of some sort.

Around them the wind picked up, and the Hero began to blow away with it, until there was nothing left save for the faint hum of the bell.

They all remained quiet for a long while, content to remain in their own thoughts. There did, however, become a point where Midna couldn’t hold back her curiosity, despite the strange grief that filled her. “What is that?” Nevermind how Ghananorv had returned to them. Hopefully they’d explain that question on their own.

Ghananorv shrugged, carefully wrapping it so no part of the bell showed. “As far as I can figure it, it’s Demise, in a way. He did something, and I awoke in his place, the bell next to me. It clearly has some of his powers, since it can cause death and helped me pass into the Twilight while I was following you.

Which might have answered most of Midna’s questions, but brought rise to have five hundred more.

Zelda kneeled next to her, forestalling most of those questions. “How are you feeling, Midna?” A familiar golden glow surrounded Zelda’s hands as she began to hum a healing song.

“Better than before,” she answered. “By tomorrow I think I’d be ready enough to head out.” They’re so close, and she wants to finally get to Zant, and give him what he deserved.

Zelda nodded. “Good.”

A Rito appeared at the ‘door,’ bowing low. “Your Highness, there is food ready if you all are hungry.”

Nodding, Zelda gave him a smile. “Yes, thank you, Torth. We’ll be there in just a moment.” She turned to Midna. “Can you stand?”

It took a moment, but Midna proved that she, indeed, could stand on her own power. Though it was mildly bemusing to realize she was no longer the tallest person in their little party anymore. Much to her relief, she managed walking as well, following them to another open air room—she supposed it made sense when you all could fly, but it was so cold —where food indeed waited.

It was some of the best food Midna had had in a long time.

-

Zelda found herself biting back a giggle when they reached the stable outside of the village to get their horses and Ghan brightened upon seeing the giant black. Copper eyes warmed as he stroked the horse’s forelock and murmured to it in Gerudo. 

“Good,” Link commented as they helped Zelda saddle Seba. “She’s biddable, but so damn big it’s hard to ride her correctly sometimes.”

“”Then why did you take her?” Ghan asks. “Certainly there would have been more suitable horses to choose from.”

Link turned pink from cheek to ear, making Midna snigger, before eying the horse Link had been given, which had stepped too close to her. “Maybe I was hoping you’d return.” Link’s fingers barely moved, as if they were trying to mumble.

Ghan understood them well enough though, going over and bending down to give them a brief kiss, making something in Zelda’s heart sing. “Well thank you, then.”

As much as Zelda enjoyed watching them, she looked up at the sky. “We should leave soon, if we want to make good time.” It was nearly a week of travel to get down to the Lost Woods, and the sooner they started, the better.

“Just don’t forget I’m here,” Midna winked at all of them before stepping into Zelda’s shadow and making herself at home. Zelda gave a little sigh. The other woman was going to be incorrigible, Zelda knew, but couldn’t quite hold it against her.

Link walked around, giving their bags one last check before leaping onto their own horse, who tossed her head at the sudden weight. Link soothed her with ease.

Ghan climbed onto his own horse, and Zelda couldn’t breathe for a moment as she watched. Hylia’s tits, she loved this man. And this time there was nothing to fear. “Midna,” he called out. “Come ride with me, Zelda said you might be able to help me with my bell.” 

Midna’s eyes appeared. “Alright,” her voice came from nowhere. “You’ve got my attention.” She was a blur of darkness as she moved to him. They began a low conversation almost immediately.

Zelda kicked seba into a trot, the black following—even if Ghan hadn’t prompted it, she was sure—and Link after. She couldn’t help but feel warmth.

They were all together, finally. And together they’d end this.

-

Link dodged out of the way of Giraham’s swing, her own sword flashing up to strike at him. Only to be blocked and he forced her back around the edge of the camp. ‘Better,” the sword grinned. “But I know you can do even better. Maybe once you get poor little bluebird back, hm?” He arched a pale eyebrow.

With a roll of her eyes, Link stuck her tongue out. Sweeping down she grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it at Giraham, making the sword flinch back. More than enough for Link to make the attack and land a hit against Giraham’s cheek. 

“That’s enough,” Ghan’s voice came from the fire he’d built. His copper eyes focused on the food that looked about done.

“Yes, Master,” Giraham bowed, floated over to him, then turned back into a sword.

Link checked her sword as she walked towards them, a little ding but otherwise fine. She sat next to Midna, who wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, you smell. Should’ve had a bath before you came over.” 

Childishly, Link stuck her tongue out again. Midna replied with a snooty sound, shoved a pinky in her face, then floated over to Zelda on the other side of the fire. Link pulled out her whetstone and, taking the little cup Ghan offered, dipped it in the water and began smoothing out the ding.

“We should make it to the Woods tomorrow,” Zelda spoke. “Is there anything we should try and expect, Link?”

A shrug. “I don’t know, the Twilight could have changed it a lot more than most. There’s a lot of natural magic there in the first place. Who knows what we’ll encounter .” Which likely wasn’t the comforting words they all expected, but they were the truth.

“I’m surprised we haven’t met the Twilight barrier yet,” Midna said. “Usually they’re spread out wider. I don’t like it.” Link didn’t like it either, but they had to live with it. “Though I guess that means we’ll have less distance to travel once we’re inside.”

Link shook her head. “The Woods are bigger than you’d think they’d be just from looking at them. I had to work really hard not to get lost when I went hunting, because if I got lost the magic would take me and I’d become a skullkid.” She gestured to her ear, where she’d put back the Koriri gold she’d managed to find back in Gintu. “This helps, but I didn’t have it for a long time. So I guess there’s one piece of advice: don’t get lost, don’t lose your purpose. Or the magic will grab you before you can think.”

Midna sighed. “Wonderful. Have to save the fun one for last.”

“Giant lava monsters and sages with too many legs not fun?” Zelda teased back.

“Please,” Midna huffed. “I’ll actually be grateful to get back home at this point. The only dangerous thing is the water.”

“The Woods’ magic is at least passive, far too many restless spirits still wander the desert, all too happy to lure travelers to their deaths. Dying of dehydration and starvation is not a pretty way to go, and only makes more spirits to wander.” Ghan easily lifted the small pot off the fire. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Now Zelda was the one who huffed, grabbing bowls and sitting next to Ghan to help serve. “Wonderful way to lift the conversation, dear.”

“Ah, is that what we were doing? I thought we were all agreeing at how terrifying our world can be. Especially with magic on the decline.” His eyes grew distant. “One can hope that is also a problem that can be fixed.”

“ You’re remembering more,” Link pointed out. Checking her sword again she grew satisfied and sheathed it. “That’s good.” She accepted the bwl Zelda handed her, wrapping her hands around it and sucking up some of the warmth. Spice tickled her nose when she inhaled.

Ghan sighed and took a drink from his own bowl. “It comes and fits and starts, but yes, I am. Hopefully soon I’ll be able to do it on purpose, instead of it just happening.”

Zelda reached over and rested a hand on his arm briefly. “Don’t force it, just let it happen.”

Link’s heart warmed as she watched the two of them have their moment. Perhaps wishing she weren’t on the other side of the fire so she could comfort him too, but understanding she needed to eat to keep up her strength, not leap across the fire to comfort the man she loved.

Her heart stuttered and stopped for a moment. Oh Goddesses. At least now the idea didn’t fill her with anger at herself and terror of fucking something up. Which didn’t make it any stranger to thing.

Smiling she finished up her soup and asked for seconds.

-

Zelda stared at the Twilight barrier, surrounding the Lost Woods like a dome of darkness. All the other barriers had been relatively vast, covering nearly all the rest of Hyrule. But this one was clearly more...contained. Why?

Something to do with the Woods themselves? Or had Sage Tohi managed to keep some of his former self and kept the Twilight spreading from sheer force of will?

The latter would be nice, but Zelda was certain it was unlikely. Though she’d still pray that it was true.

They all dismounted their horses, leading them over to a nice patch of grass where Link hobbled them; though loosely enough that they could run if need be.

Carefully Ghan unwrapped the bell, grabbing it by the new handle it sported. Carefully he went up to the barrier, the rest of them trailing after. Ghan taking a solid position right in front of the darkness.

“I don’t see why I just can’t take us in our usual way,” Midna only sounded a little annoyed. “It’s worked great so far.” 

“I know it works, but I want to do it with my own hands,” Ghan replied. “Anyways, it’s certainly easier to walk in than be pulled in by magic.” His fingers tightened around the magic handle before swinging the bell upwards sharply, the sound somehow echoing despite the fact they were in a relatively open area. The sound set Zelda’s teeth on edge, moreso when Ghan swung the bell back down, the two sounds mixing.

A giant crack formed in the Twilight as the sounds rang out, spreading to reveal the forest beyond. Ghan nodded for them all to go through, which they did quickly, Zelda praying that the gap held. Ghan was last, carefully rewrapping the bell and tucking it back in his bag.

Between them and the woods was barely two steps, one for Ghan, the tall trungs tightly packed together save for a single path that Zelda could barely see. “Link,” she murmured. “You’d best lead, I think.”

Link nodded, stringing her bow before taking off, arrow dangling from her hand. Ghan gestured Zelda forward, and he easily kept pace behind her, Midna floating next to Zelda. “I don’t think I’ve ever see a wood like this before. Not that we have many trees at all.”

The sounds of their footsteps grew even more muffled as they took their first careful movements into the Woods itself. Which was truly dark, the amber light barely breaking through the tree cover, like they were in the Shadow Temple all over again. Zelda shivered.

Unlike the Shadow Temple, Zelda quickly gained the feeling of being watched. Though when she did her best to look around she saw nothing that would indicate anything alive besides them.

“I don’t like this,” Ghan whispered, his voice carrying far more than it should have.

“Doesn’t matter,” Zelda found herself answering. “We get to the Forest Temple, we deal with the Sage, then we’re done. Don’t forget that.” If any of them forgot that they’d be in trouble. 

Their path came to a crossroads, the other paths looking equally likely. In the Woods a scream rang out, making them tense. Link drew her arrow, carefully walking a circle in the center of all the paths. As much as she hated it, Zelda squashed the part of her that wanted to chase after that scream and save whomever it might have been. For all she knew it was some predator that lured prey in by pretending to be a hurt animal or person. The Forest Temple, the Forest Temple, she repeated firmly to herself. “Link?”

Link made another circle before relaxing her draw. “The Temple is at the center of the Woods.” She went to each path, cocking her head as if listening for something. Zelda strained her own ears but could hear nothing. The Koriri gold in Link’s ear seemed to flash in the dull light. “ This way ,” Link began walking down the leftmost path.

Zelda trusted her, though she would have straight would have led them deeper. She supposed that was another part of the magic, that sense was thrown out the window, all the easier to trick people. A shiver went down her spine, she was starting to not like this place too. 

They came across more crossroads and branching paths, Link taking her time at each one. Their latest seemed simple enough, there was a small dirt circle like all the other intersections, sure, but the only path was the one straight ahead from where they came. But Link still walked her circle, listening carefully for something only she could hear.

She stopped a few feet away from the clear path and reached out, moving some of the undergrowth aside, gesturing them forward with her bow.

A part of Zelda wants to protest that this isn’t a path, but she trusts Link, and that somehow she hasn’t been replaced by something pretending to be Link. She would be able to tell right? The other woman hasn’t ever left Zelda’s sight, there couldn’t be any way she’d been swapped.

The moment all of them had stepped off the path something dashed in front of them, hulking and huge and fast. Zelda took a step back, running into Ghan. Who’s hand settled on her shoulder to steady her. “I really don’t like this place,” he rumbled.

Reaching up Zelda squeezed his hand with her own, in thanks and solidarity.

“If it comes back again I can get it,” Midna said. Gold flared briefly on her fist.

Only for Link to shake her head. “No fighting unless it’s Cultists. The Kokiri will hold a grudge and then we’re screwed.” Oh, wonderful.

Midna barred her teeth, but didn’t argue, and they once more began following Link. Only this time there was no obvious path and the Woods seemed all too interested in trying to grab them.

Around them the umber light became more golden, as if the Twilight were losing power. Except the moment Zelda stepped into this light she began coughing, body burning and eyes watering. She was yanked out a second later, along with Link, the two of them sitting on the ground and doing their best to recover.

“Something in the air?” Midna’s hair crept towards it, poking at nothing. “Doesn’t feel like magic…”

“It might be something natural, not magical,” Ghan countered. He crouched next to them. “Are you okay?”

Zelda nodded, Link soon after. The burning sensation had faded away fairly quickly. “Whatever it is, it burns, everywhere. But only when you’re inside it, it seems.” She looked to Link for confirmation, and she nodded. 

“And this is the way we have to go?” Midna asked.

Link nodded again.

Ghan grunted. “So we find some way to protect against it. Can you work up a shield, Midna? See what happens?”

“I suppose,” Midna agreed with a sigh. “Let’s see here…” She encircled herself in a ball of her black magic, though she was still visible, and went into the golden ‘light,’ only to retreat a few seconds later. “Ow, ow, ow, Majora’s tits that burns.” The magic faded away. “Well, I guess we know that’s useless.”

“Can you make the shield tighter?” Ghan asked. “Try to keep as much as you can out?”

“You think it really is in the air?” Zelda asked. She made herself think back of it’d felt like burning everywhere like she’d claimed, or if the sensation had just spread everywhere.

“Doesn’t hurt to find out,” he replied.

“I think there might be an easier way. Link, do you have any gloves?” Taking a deep breath she went back to the strange barrier, and stuck only her hand in. A hiss leaving her as the burning sensation returned. She quickly yanked her hand free.

A concerned expression was on Link’s face when she handed Zelda a thick leather glove, but no one was trying to stop Zelda either, so she’d take it. It didn’t seem like anything was truly burning after all, only the sensation of it. She waited for the sensation to pass before tugging the glove on and sticking her hand in.

It barely hurt at all, at least until she stuck her forearm in, then the burning resumed. “So, it seems clothes are a barrier of some sorts. Though our normal clothes don’t block as well as say, leather does. Which would suggest it really is something in the air, and if we could properly protect ourselves we would be relatively fine.” Which was better than nothing she knew.

“What about breathing?” Link asked. “If we cover our mouths with something that’ll block whatever it is, that means we block most of our air supply as well?”

A point Zelda probably should have thought of, and one that made this an infinitely harder task.

“I know getting lost is a problem, but would you be able to guide us around this, Link?” Ghan asked. “Perhaps somewhere along the barrier there’s a protected path in, or it only covers this portion of the Woods, and not all of it.”

Link shook her head. “We’ve got no assurance that it will end, or that if we move from this right place we’ll be able to find another one. No, we’ve got to get through here or we're fucked.”  Well, that wasn’t assuring. “Maybe your bell?” She countered.

Now Ghan was the one shaking his head. “It likely could work, you’re right. But the more I use it the more likely it will snatch me up, or something bad will happen. If we truly can’t think of anything else, I’ll use it, but only as a last resort.” Zelda found herself reaching out and grabbing his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “Giraham?”

The sword leapt from his back, quickly changing into it’s human shape. “Yes, Master?”

Ghan nodded his chin towards the barrier. “If I sent you in there to scout, you could make your way back to us?”

“Yes, Master,” Giraham bowed.  “I know where you are at all times, Master, now that we have been rejoined.” Well that was interesting.

“Well if you’re sending him in to scout, then maybe you all can help me with this shield,” Midna sounded a little testy, but Zelda didn’t blame her. This was quite the problem after all. Though Zelda found herself quite excited by the idea of figuring it out. 

Ghan nodded again. “Then see what you can find, Giraham, and come back to us.”

Giraham bowed again, then vanished into the barrier.

Cracking her knuckles, Zelda settled down next to Midna. “Now, let’s see what we can do about our shield.”

-

For the first time, Link found herself wishing she could make her own magic, and not just use enchanted object. Then she’d be able to do more than stand guard over Midna, Ghan, and Zelda as they worked—though Ghan and Zelda were still clearly struggling to summon their own magic like usual.

Link paced in a tight circle around them, ears twitching with every little sound the Woods made. Each one amplified to her thanks to the lack of animal sounds. Of which there should have been plenty. The Woods might have been full of magic, but it was still a wood. Link had hunted deer and rabbit here. Fletched her arrows with the feathers of the birds who sang and flew about.

In previous Twilight areas the animals had still been around, though far more alert and wary than usual. So where were they here? 

Her heart began to pound in her chest as Giraham burst out of the barrier, a Cultist head in one hand. Link drew her sword, ready for the incoming fight. The others had burst into action too, Zelda grabbing Link’s bow, Midna’s hair spread out, and Ghan raised a hand, clearly reaching for Giraham.

Except Giraham didn’t go to Ghan, and the four of them stood a bit awkwardly as nothing happened after a few seconds.

“Oh,” Giraham stared at them for a moment, but at least didn’t laugh. “There isn’t anyone behind me,” he told them. “Though if they were, they’d likely die in the barrier, as it’s at least thirty feed deep or so. No,” he dropped the head. “I actually found this on a stake on the other side. Something clearly hunted them all, which is why we haven’t run into ourselves.”

That...made sense, Link realized. They, after all, should have met Cultists, magic woods or no, if only by chance. That there was at least one sentient thing alive that didn’t like the Cultists and had hunted them all down would explain why. “The Sage?” She asked.

Giraham shrugged. “I didn’t see anything, though I suppose that doesn’t mean there’s not anything out there. However, it would have to be quite skilled to evade me.” Ever humble. “But yes, the barrier goes on for about thirty feet, and it is a full circle with no way through, clearly whatever made it didn’t want any loving thing to go through.”

Zelda sighed as she unstrung Link’s bow. “Just once.”

“I think we used up our once with Dorbus,” Link decided to point out. After all Demise had quite literally swept in and defeated that Sage, which was for the best considering. But Link would have been surprised if they’d caught any more ‘lucky breaks.’

In a manner most befitting a princess, Zelda stuck her tongue out at Link ,who stuck hers back. Midna sniggered. Ghan sighed. “So you found no way of taking the barrier down either?”

“No, Master. I couldn’t find whatever was making it, or see any obvious ways of stopping it either. Perhaps the only way is to find this Sage and free them.” Giraham went to Ghan this time when the man gestured, shifting back into his sword form.

“So, then, the only way through it is through,” Midna said. “And we still haven’t worked out the best way to give us enough air, though thirty feet isn’t that bad, I suppose.”

“It might not be thirty feet straight for us,” Link countered. “Whatever path we need to take might go left or right at some point, it’s only right now that we need to go directly straight.” Not that Link would be able to see where they were going clearly once they were inside, she’d have to rely completely on the earring and her other senses and she perhaps was starting to have fourth and fifth thoughts.

Zelda sighed. “How about, we just take a break, have something to eat, some water, maybe take a nap?” She gave Link a questioning look.

“As long as one or two of us stay awake at a time we should be fine,” she answered.

A nod. “Then we take naps in shifts like usual in the Twilight. Just...let’s put everything on hold for now and refresh ourselves. It’s better to take our time with this thing rather than rush through it, as tempting as that sounds.”

Midna bared her teeth, but didn’t argue.

Ghan nodded. “That is probably for the best. It will give me time to try and summon more magic.”

“That is not taking a break.” Zelda narrowed her eyes at him.

“I won’t be actively using it, just drawing it to me. I’d say that’s quite restful,” he challenged.

Link rolled her eyes at the both of them, they were ridiculous. Granted what did that say about her, when she was with both of them? Shaking her head she let them bicker, carefully moving around the small clearing collecting deadfall. A fire would be hard to make, but it would be worth it.

She whistled at them, breaking off Ghan and Zelda’s ‘conversation,’ and Midna’s focus. “Help me with the fire,” she pointed.

“Why a fire?” Midna sighed as she knelt by the small pile of twigs Link had already built.

A shrug. “Why not a fire? It’ll make us all feel better. And warm food’s better than cold any day.”

Ghan knelt next to Midna. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to,” he glanced at Zelda.

Who smacked his shoulder. “I’m worried about you, asshole, and I’m sorry if that inconveniences you, your Majesty, but I don’t want to lose you again! I-”

Ghan cut her off by pulling her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I just...don’t want to linger on what happened, I want things to go back to before.” He glanced at Link. “If vastly improved.”

“I can’t do that,” Zelda sighed. Reaching up, she laced one of his hands with hers, and Link could feel the magic building, if slowly, between their palms. “Too much happened to let it all go, Ghan.”

Midna added her own layer of magic to theirs, and soon enough, bright, cheery flames leapt up. Link carefully fed it larger branches to make sure it didn’t die. She smiled at all of them. “See, better.”

Zelda huffed. “Yes, Link, better.”

Midna hauled their bag over, and pulled dried meat and fruit out. Link carefully warmed hers over the fire, relaxing a little. Even as she made sure to pay attention to their surroundings, something was out there, after all, and she didn’t want them to meet it if she had anything to say about it.

Link built the fire a little larger as they ate, if they were going to nap here, then she wanted it to last. Though she’d have to watch the sparks, just in case. Though she found herself actually wondering if the Lost Woods even could burn. Better not to find out either way, Link decided. There wasn’t a wind at least, which would help keep things contained.

Even without a wind, the sparks drifted some. She blinked when she saw a spark manage to make it all the way to the barrier and it moved?

Link stood, feeling everyone’s eyes on her as she thrust a new stick into the fire until it caught. Then carefully brought it over to the barrier, moving it closer and closer. The barrier pulled back, as if sentient and wanting to avoid the flames. A sound of triumph left Link.

Freeing herself from Ghan, Zelda did the same, pointing her burning stick downwards, making the barrier retreat and revealing a scattering of stones. “Well, I suppose we’ve found our way through. Let’s hope this doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

“We’ll be fine,” Ghan replied. He reached for some of the branches Link had scavenged, carefully shaping them into something more like torches. “Though now I wish you had let me conserve magic, I could have summoned quite a lot of fire quite easily.”

“You don’t have the Triforce anymore, Ghan, I’m fairly certain you’re overestimating your abilities,” Zelda countered. “Though yes, I think we should be fine, we don’t have far to travel. So long as we’re careful about putting the fire out when we’re done.”

Midna accepted a ‘torch’ from Ghan, lighting it with ease. “If you kill me for the Triforce I will come back and haunt you,” she told Ghan tartly.

He rolled his eyes as he lit the next torch before handing it over. “I’m not going to kill you Midna.”

She made a doubtful sound, even as she grinned. 

Link found herself rolling her eyes again.

Once they all had torches they carefully put out their original fire, going so far as to douse it with magic and dirt. That done they clumped together in a tight group, Link once more in the lead. Taking a deep breath she began to lead them towards the barrier, hoping that she and Zelda hadn’t been imagining things.

Relief flooded her when the barrier began to part again, revealing the same rocks that Zelda had uncovered with her attempt.

They traveled with even more care now, doing their best to stick to each other as closely as possible. Link moving at a snail’s pace to make sure they didn’t get lost. The music that was leading her was fainter to her ears in the barrier than outside it.

All of them heaved sighs of relief when they took a step and passed through the last of the barrier, revealing more woods, and in the distance, a tower sticking out above the trees. “The Temple,” Link gestured with her chin.

Just like with the first fire they put their torches out carefully. Then continued on their way.

Even with the tower seeming to be able to guide them, Link’s route wasn’t straightforward. You couldn’t trust what you saw here, after all. 

They all seemed a bit surprised when the Woods ended and before them was the remains of what might have been a maze. “Did someone live here?” Midna asked.

Link shrugged. “The Kokiri never talked about the Temple, at least with me. So anything about it’s history is beyond me.” Not that she’d asked, nor truly cared. She’d had more important things to worry about than the Temple and whatever might lay inside.

She continued to lead the way, surprised when Zelda spoke up. “It was built a very long time ago, before the Kokiri even existed as a people. It was meant to contain an opening into the Sacred Realm, as much as such a thing can be contained. It was sealed up by Sage Rauru when he built the Temple of Time.” She made a strange sound that Link couldn’t quite pinpoint. “He did it to keep the Realm safe as sentients had already warred over it twice, but perhaps it also wasn’t his best idea.”

Ghan grunted. “One place is easier to defend than two,” he pointed out.

“But it can’t have been an accident that there was an opening here, and who are we to go against the wills of the Golden Three?” Which earned her a snort and a look from Ghan. She rolled her eyes in return. “You’re a special case, dear.”

Link laughed.

Midna huffed. “While the bickering is cute, perhaps we can do it after we deal with the Sage?” Her voice was antsy, but Link understood where she was coming from. They were so close to being done, after all.

Again they fell silent.

Link lead them down a passage, open to the sky but with crumbling stone walls on either side. Though those soon fell away, revealing the equally crumbling fortress, sooner than the builders had likely planned. They stopped in the still empty ground between the ‘end’ of the passage and the collapsed entrance.

“Maybe it’s best if you do your Sage call,” Link told Zelda. She didn’t like their chances exploring that ruin to find him. Better to fight him out here in the open where their surroundings were only marginally less likely to kill them.

“Yes,” Zelda agreed. “That probably is for the best.”

As she gathered herself the rest of them got ready. “Try not to kill the Sage,” Link told Ghan.

Who gave her a look. “Demise didn’t kill Dorbus did he? I think I can handle not killing a Sage too.” He had a point, but Link still felt she’d needed to say it. Just because.

“You two can flirt later,” Midna said, her hair weaving about her.

A flare of light shot out from Zelda, interrupting Link’s reply. She fell into a ready stance, eyes moving around, trying to see movement. Zelda quickly retreated to them, grabbing Link’s bow and an arrow from her quiver.

They stood quiet and ready. And kept standing. The long seconds grew more and more agonizing as nothing happened. Lowering her bow, Zelda closed her eyes and clearly readied herself to try again. 

Again, light shot out from her, and again they readied themselves. And again nothing happened.

“There’s a Sage here, right?” Ghan sounded just as confused as the rest of them likely were.

Zelda let out an aggravated sound. “Yes, there is. I...I can feel the call connect , but for some reason the Sage isn’t responding like the others have.”

“Can you find them?” Midna asked. “Maybe they’re trapped and can’t get to us.” She sniggers at her own suggestion. “Wouldn’t that be something.” She floated higher up into the air. “I’ll take a look around...wait, I’m not going to get lost here, am I?”

Link had to think hard about that one, but then shook her head. “No, the magic here is different. The Woods try to keep you from reaching this place, sort of. But we’re already here, so it’s not like we can’t not be here.” At least she hoped.

“Well, I still feel pretty driven to get Zant, so I think I’m good on that front at least.” She nodded at them then flew off.

Ghan was looking at the Temple oddly, like he couldn’t quite understand it. “What is it?” Zelda asked.

“I’ve...been here before, but not?” He shook his head. “It’s all messed up in my head. I don’t have the memories of my past lives like you do, but there’s this...echo I can feel.” Another shake of his head. “It doesn’t really matter, I suppose. But it’s not a good feeling. Not that this whole Wood hasn’t been easy.”

Both Zelda and Link reached for him, and he gave a wan smile.

Midna returned, her own strange expression on her face. “Follow me.”

-

They all trailed after Midna, Ghan taking up the rear. The echo he’d mentioned hadn’t gone away, a niggling distraction in the back of his mind. One that he did his best to ignore, to moderate success.

On the other side of the temple they found a ring of dead ground, one that reminded Ghan of the one he’d made by Kakariko. Only there wasn’t another bell inside this one, but a skeleton. A small one at that.

From it’s skull a giant mushroom grew, one that spewed out a puff of the yellowish haze that had walled off the Temple to them. And in it’s chest sprouted a shard of the Mirror.

“Oh,” Zelda sounded too shocked to even be distressed. She braved the circle, though every part of Ghan wanted to snatch her up because who knew what would happen to her in there, and knelt next to the skeleton. “Oh, Tohi.”

Light bloomed in the eye-sockets of the skull at the name and even Ghan took a step back. Not afraid, just...wary. If the Sage was still alive the Mirror shard would drive it to attack them, just like all the others had attacked the rest. Only no such thing happened, thankfully. Spirits, Ghan could deal with, not stalls; though he supposed they wouldn’t be that hard to fight. He hoped.

The teeth of the skull chattered eerily, but it didn’t have anything to speak with, making it useless, and sad in a way.

Despite that, Zelda nodded, as if she could understand the skeleton. Perhaps she could. “Midna, you can take the shard, “she spoke softly. She reached out and rested her hand against the side of the skull. “You did well, Sage Tohi, Thank you. I will make sure Hyrule gives you the honor you deserved.” A platitude that seemed more for her than the dead Kokiri; but sometimes that was all you could do.

Midna floated over and grabbed the shard, the light, and the mushroom, dying as it slid out. 

Between one breath and the next the Twilight was gone, not that it seemed to make the Woods any less disturbing . But at least there was a suggestion of sunlight now.

Zelda stood, brushing herself off. “So then, we’ve finished the mirror, and now it’s time to face Zant, and my father.” Determination filled her features, and Ghan perhaps fell a little more in love with her.

Thy journey is not yet done, at least Ghan wasn’t the only one who jumped at the sudden voice that seemed to come from all around them. Even inside their heads. Come to me, weary travelers. There is one last thing thou need for thine quest.

“What,” Gan grit out. “Was that?”

“If I had to guess, the Deku Tree?” She looked at Link as if she might confirm.

Instead she just shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I never went this deep into the Woods before.”

“So what, we’re just going to follow the disembodied voice that asks us to come to it? That seems like a bad idea,” Midna chimed in.

Zelda sighed. “We might not have a choice.”

“We very much do,” Ghan pointed out.

“The Deku Tree has helped us before,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It would be detrimental for us to ignore him now.” She turned. “That way, I suppose.” They all turned the same way. There was indeed a path there hadn’t been before, with a sign that simply said ‘Great Deku Tree,’ on it.

“This feels like a trap,” Ghan said. Because it needed to be said, if only so he could claim ‘I told you so,’ later.

Zelda still marched forward, Link stepping quickly to catch up. Ghan heaved a sigh and began to follow, Midna floating alongside him. She patted his shoulder with her hair. “Don’t worry, if it’s a trap then it can’t be a trap, because we know about it.” Ghan was pretty certain that wasn’t how it worked.

The path meandered a little, but it didn’t branch, and nothing ever jumped out at them. In fact it could almost be considered idyllic, a concept Ghan had read about but had never exactly had the chance to experience considering he lived in the desert. But it did bring to his attention the fact that he could hear birdsong. Something that had been sorely lacking in the Twilight.

Finally the path ended at a large clearing, in the center of which stood a stone platform shaded by the largest tree Ghan had ever seen in his life. Zelda turned and looked at him, as if to say ‘see, I was right,’ then continued on forward.

Ghan caught up more easily, and they soon all reached the stone platform, in the center of which was the Master Sword. He felt Giraham vibrate against his back, but the other sword didn’t take it’s human shape, at least not yet. Ghan himself found the sword pulled and repulsed him in equal measure. It had killed so many of his predecessors, after all, but Zelda had also claimed it had taken a portion of Demise the first time he and Link had clashed.

A loud rustling drew Ghan out of his thoughts and he gave a start when he realized the tree had changed, and now had a face. With eyes.

It felt quite strange to be looked over by a tree . “Ah,” it smiled, which was equally strange. “It is good to see old friends again, though much changed as thou art.” What Ghan supposed passed for eyes looked at Midna. “And a new face as well, how curious.” Then it looked at him. “Humph. I should hope you’re better than your predecessor, boy.”

Ghan crossed his arms. “I am, though I hardly care about the opinion or esteem of a tree .” However old and respected it might be. It was still just a tree, after all.

“Ghan!” Zelda hissed. Clearly thinking differently than he about trees and their opinions. Granted she knew said tree, so that probably changed things. But still. It was a little ridiculous. “Apologies, Great Deku Tree.” He huffed, but let her apology stand, even if he didn’t feel remorseful one bit. 

The Great Deku Tree seemed largely unconcerned with this whole exchange. “The need must be dire indeed, oh chosen ones, if thou art joining forces with thine old enemy. Though certainly it has felt so, even in the long sleep Tohi put us all in.”

Zelda nodded. “Though Ghan is not our old enemy,” perhaps his chest warms, just a little, at her protest. “We are working together, yes, for even the Desert had fallen sway to Zant and the Twilight after my father surrendered Hyrule to him. If it pleases you, Great Deku Tree, we would take the Master Sword and finish this, once and for all.”

Another loud rustle. “Thou do not need mine blessing, Princess, nor does the Hero. It is thine sword after all, though it pleases me that you ask. Take it, and save Hyrule once more from those who would unjustly lay claim to it.”

Link sighed, rolled her shoulders, than stepped up to the sword. Her fingers wrapped around the wrapped handle and bracing herself she began to draw it. 

Ghan felt a strange bolt of fear as he watched Link draw the sword out of the platform. The blade caught the sunlight that shone through the Deku Tree’s leaves and reflected it back brilliantly. Something inside Ghan wanted to run far, far away. That sword knew his blood too well, had brought death too many times…

Gritting his teeth, Ghan made himself stand firm. He would not fall prey to this irrational fear. Not when Link had kissed him, sworn to keep him safe. An ancient sword couldn’t change who Link was. No matter how it might try.

Then it was done, and Link held the sword in front of her. She fell into a pose and gave it a few practice swings, nodding in satisfaction when it passed whatever test she’d made. A frown crossed her face and she looked around for some reason. “A sheath?” She asked. “ It won’t fit in my old one.” No, it wouldn’t, Ghan agreed.

“Sheath? Ah...let me see...hmmm…” Proof enough that the tree was old, Ghan supposed, that it forgot things, or misplaced them entirely. Or perhaps it was the fault of whomever put the sword here, that no sheath had been provided.

“Here thou art, Hero.” The roots of the tree moved and produced something that could have been a sheath. To her credit, Link went and retrieved it.

Apparently it satisfied her too, for she strapped it onto her back and slid the Master Sword into it. “Thank you.”

“Well,” Midna finally spoke. “I suppose that could have gone worse. Is getting out going to be more difficult than getting in was? I don’t fancy spending more time than I have to here.” Ghan felt the same, though likely for different reasons.

“Thine path is clear,” the Tree said. There was a sound behind them, which might almost suggest the trees themselves were moving. “You need not fear the magic of the Woods any longer.” From somewhere Ghan could hear mournful singing, and he found himself reminded of home. “Now go, please, we must mourn and thou must save Hyrule.”

Almost as one they turned around. To Ghan’s...distress, he discovered that the trees had indeed moved. Not that this stopped him from following the others out.

They found their horses easily, and the sunshine felt good on Ghan’s shoulders and hair as he mounted his black. Together they all turned north, where in the distance one could just make out a smear of darkness.

Zelda’s expression was hard as she look towards Castle Town. “Let’s end this.” She kicked her horse into a gallop.

They followed.

Chapter 29: Part 3: The Way of All Things

Notes:

Here we are, at the end then.

Thank you to everyone who's read/reviewed/left kudos, ya'll are the best.

I hope you all enjoy this final chapter!

Castle Town was full of spirit orbs, more than Midna’d ever seen in one place. The number high enough that she was certain it was the most sentients she’d ever seen in her life, and something about that was terrifying in a way.

Could her people ever thrive like this? Or would they always just barely scrape by? If, somehow, her people and Hyrule ever came to blows again, would it mean the end of them?

She would just have to pray it wouldn’t come to that, that something would bind them deep enough to prevent such a schism. Granted, she didn’t need to worry about that until after this was all over, at least. Even so, the thought lingered in her mind, inescapable.

Zelda continued to stride through the town proper, her face hard. Link looked just as grim next to her, the Master Sword appearing to glow softly, even in the Twilight. On Zelda’s other side was Ghan, a triangle, as it apparently was meant to be. Midna clenched her fist, feeling the Triforce respond briefly.

Perhaps it was better this way, as much as Hyrule’s traditions might suggest otherwise. Break the strange cycle the three of them seemed caught up in against their wills.

The Castle itself loomed over them, dark shapes moving about. Midna gave a fierce smile, Zant’s cultists, good. More were gathered at the gates, and between one step and the next Midna was in her true form, the time for hiding was done.

Zelda nocked an arrow in her bow and they attacked.

By the end, Midna felt exhausted and invigorated. They couldn’t stop, however, not when it was almost done.

They reached the doors to the castle and Ghan approached them. He swung Giraham with ease and with a push the doors swung open, the bar on either side falling off with an echoing clatter. 

Zelda gave a nod of thanks as she pushed forward, leading them all towards the throne room.

Again the doors were barred, and again Ghan opened them, this time giving a bow as he motioned for Zelda to enter. Midna found herself slipping on Majora’s Mask, the cultist blood on it making it a little slippery.

Despite her dirty travel clothes, Zelda walked with the grace of a queen through the empty hall, the rest of them her honor guard. On the throne at the other end sat a human male, and behind him, Zant. Midna’s eyes narrowed behind the Mask. It would end now, and she would save her people.

“Nossalph Daphnes Hyrule,” Zelda’s voice almost seemed to cut through the Twilight. “King of Hyrule and it’s vassal states. By the decree of the Golden Three I name you traitor to the Throne and to Hyrule herself.” She drew another arrow, and her anger must have been great indeed, for she had no trouble summoning light to the tip. “You will surrender your crown and your right to rule, now.”

Nossalph turned his head, as if looking at a curiosity, and behind him Zant began to laugh. His headdress and mask making the sound more eerie. Something under Nossalph’s skin... slithered, then he opened his mouth. “Who are you,” his voice was thin and reedy. “To command us?”

The Triforce on Zelda’s hand burst into golden light. “I am your daughter, Zelda Hyrule the fifth, blessed by Hylia and Nayru both. Just so there is no misunderstanding, Father, this is a coup. I will wear the crown and sit on the throne when the Twilight falls, I would much prefer it not be over your dead body.” Her expression suggested she would do it if she had to however.

Zant laughed again. “Foolish mortals, though tricksey enough, it seems, to escape my Master. You will fall.” Midna found herself snarling, how dare he ignore her. “Though where is my dearest Midna? Did she perhaps die, or has she become a coward?”

The anger inside Midna flared, then died away. Could he not see her? “I am right here, Zant,” she spoke, hoping her voice would still be heard.

To her glee, it was, Zant whipping his head back and forth, trying to find her. “You are the coward, Zant,” she continued. She began to move forward, stepping around Zelda and the others to take the front, her body swaying as if this were a dance. “As the Princess said, this will end, here and now. But unlike her, your survival is not in question.”

Hoping this would work she stomped her foot, willing herself to become visible. Zant gave a start and nearly fell over on his ass, so she’d call it a win. “I am Midna, Hope of the Forest.” She stomped her foot again, her heart pounding as she felt the magic in her build. “I am Midna, Queen of the Twili and Blessed by Majora.”

Zant finally got a hold of himself. Drawing a sword and charging towards her headlong.

Midna danced away, her own laughter echoing off the walls and ceiling. “You are only the sad little priest of a one who is not even a God. You cannot compare to me.” 

His own mask covered his expression, but she could tell he was angry from the line of his shoulders, the way he thrust his sword erratically, which she easily avoided. “Says she who worships a dead Goddess, at least the one I serve still lives.”

“Oh no, Zant, not dead. Do you not recognize this mask? Did you not wonder why perhaps your Calamity has not answered you these past few months?” Her smile was feral and she could feel the Mask echoing it. “Majora lives once more, and has gone to bring them to task. They cannot help you anymore.” She dodged again, this time summoning a dagger out of magic, dancing in to stab at Zant’s shoulder before darting away.

From the dais there was a loud crash and even Zant turned around to see what caused it. Just in time to see Nossalph...explode into something that seemed half of Twilight and half...not right. Fighting the urge to gag she turned her attention back on Zant, even as she could hear Zelda cry out in shock. “What did you do to him?”

“I was feeding him Drops of Sol to keep him physical in the Twilight, but he wouldn’t shut up, so I gave him Malice too.” Zant lunged again, and she whipped up a shield to block and parry, leaving him open to another stab of magic.

“So you were poisoning him,” it wasn’t a question. The back of her neck tingled in alarm and she flew upwards, just in time to avoid a too long arm slamming into the ground where she’d been. A second later Link was there, the Master Sword blazing in their hand as they attacked. The creature who’d once been Nossalph screamed, Midna flinched at the sound.

She swooped down on Zant, getting her fingers and hair in the mask and headdress, yanking them off him. “I hope you understand you looked fucking ridiculous in these.” With ease she crumpled them into a ball, which she shot towards Nossalph, hitting him, she supposed still, on his third head.

Not, Midna perhaps realized, that Zant looked much better now without them. He was too pale, and his eyes were shot through with magenta, his mouth had gotten bigger somehow too, when he opened his lips he revealed his teeth and gums fully, the sight unsettling. “What have you done to yourself? ” Clearly not the same thing he’d done to the ones who’d followed him, otherwise this might be easier for her—on the other hand perhaps she was drawing this out a little for her own sick satisfaction.

Another bone-shaking scream echoed through the hall and Midna decided she’d had enough fun.

She fell down on Zant again, her nails turning into talons which she sliced his throat with in a single swipe, deep enough that she could see his spine. “There will be no funeral for you, no eating of your heart. I doom you to walk the endless road, never gaining respite.” Her words rang strangely, as if it weren’t just her speaking. If it was her Goddess, she welcomed Her, welcomed the curse being fulfilled and not just words.

The light left Zant’s eyes and Minda smeared her bloody hand across the Mask in offering.

She only gave herself that moment before turning her attention to the others, diving in to help them fight the beast.

-

Panting Zelda wiped the gore from her face, her body coursing with energy even though the fight was done now. Tears threatened and she bit them back, not sure if they would be of relief or despair.

She hadn’t wanted to kill her father, only dethrone him. She knew she’d had no choice but it didn't make it any better, didn’t make the possibility of that whisper following her around the rest of her life any less palatable. Zelda the Scarred, who killed her father for the throne. Goddesses above, she prayed it would not be so.

Link and Ghan looked as exhausted as she felt, only Midna seemed full of boundless energy as she came to stand next to Zelda, slipping the Mask atop her head, as around them the Twilight dissolved.

Hyrule was well and truly free now.

“What now?” Ghan asked, as if Zelda might know the answer. With an easy flick of his wrist Giraham was free of the gore and blood covering him, Link appeared to copy him with the Master Sword before sheathing it, her? Ghan didn’t sheathe Giraham however. “Clean this mess up, would you, Giraham?”

In a flash the sword was a man, who bowed. “Of course, Master.” Well that was one thing, Zelda supposed. It would be nice if the nobles didn’t see her father’s monstrous and mangled corpse.

Midna answered Ghan’s question before Zelda’s mind could even begin to scramble for an answer. “We remake the mirror, and free my people.” 

Zelda found herself nodding in agreement. Yes, that was only right, it would not do for Hyrule to be free but the Twilight still caught up in Calamity’s grasp. Though Zelda had no idea what they might encounter once they got there. “Do we need to go back to the desert?” That would take time. Time Zelda wasn’t sure she had . Now that her father was dead she needed to arrange so many things, help Hyrule recover from the trauma it’d had gone through.

Midna shook her head. “Just somewhere dark.”

That...that Zelda could do. “This way.” She strode to a side door below the musicians loft and opened it, nearly hitting a servant who leapt back.

“Your Highness!” The woman’s eyes widened to see her, and likely the others, splattered with blood and who knew what else what. Still, she curtsied and kept her eyes low.

Zelda drew herself as straight as she could, her mind not providing the woman’s name, she must have been new because Zelda didn’t recognize her face either. “There’s a construct cleaning up a mess in the Throne room, please don’t disturb him. I’m going somewhere else for a time, but when we return I’ll need you or the Steward I suppose to gather up the servants...and the nobles too, I suppose.” Her brain sputtered for a moment as she realized that now that she was Queen in all but name she and Ghan were going to officially have to marry. Oh Goddesses, there was a whole other headache.

The woman looked at Zelda wide-eyed, which is about how Zelda felt. “We’re going down into the wine-cellar, please make sure we’re not disturbed,” she finished, somewhat bashfully. “You can go now.”

The woman curtsied again and ran off. Zelda sighed, wondering what rumors would have spouted by the time they returned. “Come on.” At least the trip to the wine cellar was short—after all it wouldn’t do for the nobles to run out of drink. “Is this dark enough?”

It was nice and cool, at least, and smelled of alcohol and wood. One single torch flickered on the wall, carefully far away from the barrels. Midna eyed the barrels and the space. “It will do,” she agreed. “Though we’ll need to make space.”

“Fine,” Zelda answered. The butler would likely have a fit as they ruined whatever organizing system there might be, but right now Zelda didn't care one bit.

Ghan helped Midna move everything, still quite strong and magically gifted, even without Power to bolster him. Link came to stand next to her, their shoulder warm against hers. “When we’re done, we should go up to your rooms and sleep for a month.”

Zelda sighed, if only. “I’m afraid it would only have to be for an hour. I’ve got to get my coronation set up, somehow keep the nobles from rebelling thanks to my father’s sudden demise.” Hopefully the Sheikah would help with that, also hopefully without torturing or killing anyone. “And a wedding.” She leaned her head against Link’s shoulder. “Saving Hyrule was the right thing to do, but all this mess at the end almost makes me wish otherwise.”

Link took one of her hands in theirs and gave a squeeze.

In the now cleared center of the room Midna situated herself, sliding the Mask back on as she summoned the mirror shards from wherever she’d hidden them. Ghan came to stand at Zelda’s other side, and she found herself reaching out with her free hand and lacing her fingers with his. “Link proposes we take a nap when we’re done here, I hope you join us.” She buried her face in Link’s shoulder to hide her blush.

The room around them darkened as magic poured from Midna, the Mirror shards whirling around her in a worrying fashion.

She stomped her foot, clapped her hands together and the shards crashed into each other forcefully enough that Zelda expected a sound. But there was only silence as the remade mirror floated above the ground. Midna touched her fingers to it and the patterns on the glass began to shift and change, gaining a strange sort of perspective that made it seem more a tunnel than a mirror. “Alright, we can go in. The mirror will stay open until I close it, so we don’t need to worry about getting trapped by accident.”

Trapped on purpose was still an option, Zelda supposed, nevermind anyone or anything just getting through the mirror. They’d just have to live with that if it happened. She trusted Midna wouldn’t have done it that way if she’d had another choice.

Rolling her shoulders, Midna went up to the mirror and stepped into it, vanishing.

Not giving herself time to think about it, Zelda followed, hearing Ghan and Link rush after her. The sounds of them were cut off when she entered the mirror. For a long moment there was no sound, or anything, just a sense of floating.

Then gravity reasserted itself and Zelda found herself in Twilight once more—faintly she could feel the tug of the markings that kept her a human as they activated. Midna was only a few steps away, stock still. Zelda joined her and her heart stopped in her chest.

Malice was everywhere. The buildings, the streets, there were even flecks of it coating the skies. “Oh Dark Lady,” Midna’s voice was mournful.

Zelda reached out and took her hand, offering comfort. “There might still be people alive in there. We’ll help you find them for however long it takes.”

There was a frisson behind her and when she turned her head it was to see Ghan and Link. Who both grew grim as they drew up beside Zelda and Midna. Ghan gave a grunt and began to move. “Let’s get started then.”

-

Link’s back ached as they swung the Master Sword once more. The sacred blade cutting through the Malice like grass. They’d been doing this for who knows how long, and they'd keep doing it until there was no one left to save, no more bodies to be found.

They revealed a door and sluggishly kicked it open as they sheathed their sword.

Carefully they shine the light Midna had cast for them around the large shop of some sort, shoulders falling when they found a dead body, up the stairs, another dead body. Turning to leave their ears twitch at a faint thump. They look around the room again, but don’t see anything anyone could hide under, or doors leading to other rooms. A hidden room?

Moving to the walls they felt around, ears straining for any more sounds. A few more soft thumps and Link sticks around that area, there has to be something that will open the space to them. They just hope it’s not magic.

It’s not, thank the Goddesses, and after Link presses the small panel a half-door swings open. There’s a scared ‘eep’ from inside the space and Link does their best to not appear threatening as they crouch and shine their light in.

A child, ten years old maybe. Link smiled and held their hand out. “I’m not going to hurt you,” they murmur softly. 

They’re nearly bowled over as the child crashed into them. Trapped in there for who knew how long, no wonder. Link carefully tucked the child against their chest, not wanting them to see the dead bodies. Once outside they mark the door with chalk for later, then bring the child to the main square, where scarce few other Twili were.

A haggard looking male Twili took the child from Link with a wan smile, talking to them softly as he took them towards a group of children about the same age.

Link headed back out, giving a nod to Ghan passing the other way, carrying a woman and a baby . 

It was tiring, mostly thankless work. Especially after they’d found all the living, and moved on to the dead. Some of the adult Twili help with that, at least, making it slightly easier work. 

There were too many to bury, at least in a reasonable amount of time. So instead Midna gave what seems to be the typical Twili funerary speech, the living Twili gathered around her, heads bowed in mourning. Then Midna moved down the line, burning each one with the glowing orb she’d claimed was their sun. Zelda and Ghan sang as she worked, ones of sorrow and mourning, and just a glimmer of hope for the future. Link blinked back tears as they stood next to them.

Then there was only the living and Malice.

Minda looked around her, crying but still proud. “I know,” she spoke, voice strong. “That this is our home, that we have carved out this space for us over the generations and survived when those who sent us here wanted us only to die.” She looked at each of the adults in turn. “But we cannot remain, not with the Mad Deity at our doorstep and infecting the land.”

Most of the adults appeared to be too deep in shock to properly respond, but there were some who were nodding in agreement. The children clung to the adults, crying, trying to understand what was happening. 

Now Zelda stepped towards Midna, regal despite the dirt and the tears in her clothes. “We know that our people once betrayed you, trapping you here in this realm. A crime for which we can never truly atone for. But we would still invite you back to our lands, offer you a portion of it to call your own and shape how you wish. You would not answer to us, but we would hope that you would welcome us as friends.”

This was met with more nods, helped by the fact Zelda had been rescuing these people, helping them without asking for anything in return. “Will you accept this offer?”

“If you wish for it,” Midna continued. “We can put it to a vote, but though I was never crowned I would still be your queen if you would have it, and hope that I would act in out best interests in accepting Hyrule’s offer.”

“Aye,” one rough voice spoke. Followed by countless others, even some of the older children it seemed.

Midna bowed deeply. When she rose she held the Mask in her hands, raising it above her head. “We will grieve, for a long time, I know. But let us stand strong together to build a new life, a new land. Let us stand firm with the knowledge that our Dread Lady lives once more and grants her blessings upon us.”

Turning she began to walk towards where they’d first entered. Zelda walking next to her, the Twili filing after. Link stood next to Ghan, waiting as all four hundred of them walked past, the two of them taking up the rear.

By the time they got to the portal, the only person in the Twilight with them was Midna, still cradling that strange ‘sun’ in her arms. 

“What will you do?” Ghan asked her.

Midna looked back over the ruin that had once been her home. “I’m going to burn it,” she answered. “Calamity doesn’t deserve to have it.” She lifted the sun above her head. “You two best head in, I’ll be right behind you.”

Link narrowed their eyes. “You’d better, or I’m getting Ghan to bring you back.”

Ghan sputered, and Midna laughed. “I promise Link. The sol won’t explode for a few minutes, plenty of time for me to join you.” Darkness began to snake out of her fingers, rising towards the sol.

Link was going to have to take that, as much as they didn’t like it. Stepping through the portal felt just as strange as it had the first time. When they stepped out Zelda was stepping through the door, Link moved towards her. “Where’s Midna?” She asked, appearing to try and look over Ghan, who followed Link.

“She should be right behind us,” Link answered.

Much to their relief, Midna kept to her promise. Stepping through the portal after a tense minute. Turning around she reached out, closing the portal, then with a whispered word the mirror shattered into dust. “Now there really can be no going back.” She turned to them, a wan smile on her lips. “We’re just going to have to learn to live with each other.”

-

Ghan had too much pride to be self-conscious, certainly too much to tug at his clothes like a nervous child. Clearly he must have been giving off something however, because Link grinned as he stepped into the small dressing room. “She’s not going to bite your head off,” he teased.

Sticking up his pinky, Ghan bared his teeth. “Please, I’m not nervous.” Despite the fact that it has been almost a year now since he’d had it, Ghan found himself clenching his fist, expecting the familiar rush of Power filling him.

Link grinned, stepping closer. “I could help take your mind off things…" The look in their hazel eyes promised mischief. 

“Oh no,” Ghan reached out, putting a hand on Link’s shoulder and easily keeping him from getting closer. “You’re going to ruin my clothes, or my makeup, or, Din forbid, both.” Link seemed to enjoy that very much.

The comment earned him a pout. “Well, if you would take your clothes off, it wouldn’t be a problem,” Link replied with a roll of his eyes. 

“No,” Ghan repeated. “There’s definitely not enough time, no matter how much you try to convince me otherwise.”

As if to prove him right there was a sharp knock on the door, then it opened to reveal his sister. Who grinned at the two of them. Even after so long, a part of Ghan’s heart ached to see her growing more aged—once, long ago, they had been less than a year apart in age. “If you two are done flirting, there’s a marriage about to happen.” 

Well, age certainly hadn’t dampened her humor, at least.

Ghan huffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied primly. “Link might have been flirting, but I certainly wasn’t.” Honestly, she should know him better.

“Right,” Nabs clearly wasn’t convinced. “Regardless, it really is time to go. If you leave Zelda waiting, I’ll happily snatch her up.”

Baring his teeth again, Ghan strode past her, most definitely not storming out because everyone was ganging up on him, no, not at all. In the hallway, at least, Gerudo and Hyrulean guards alike snapped to attention, which was more like it.

By now, Ghan knew the way to the throne room by heart, his ire at Link and his sister melting away as he saw the garlands of flowers on the walls, the sounds of music in the air.

Hyrule hadn’t truly needed to recover from what Zant had done, but it had still taken time to adjust, and now they were wholehearted throwing themselves into the excuse to celebrate . Not that Ghan blamed them one bit.

At the doors to the throne room he paused, collecting himself before nodding at the guards, who pushed the doors open with ease. Ghan stepped into the packed throne room, cheers rising up as he made his way down the narrow path to the dais where Zelda, as beautiful as the desert at dawn, waited.

The ceremony seemed to take forever, with far too many long-winded speeches and readings. How did Hyruleans do this all the time? 

And of course, after the wedding is done they need to be crowned, which takes even longer. How angry would her nobles be, if he tried to change that? Wasn’t it in everyone’s best interests to get it done more quickly? Because then you could get to the part everyone wanted to be at: the party.

Oh, what a party it was. Full of dancing, and music, and food. The Twili were perhaps a bit nervous in the beginning, but Midna was quite good at nudging them along, until they were drinking and dancing along with everyone else. It does feel good to celebrate after struggling and working for so long.

Eventually though, he and Zelda excuse themselves from the celebration, to many knowing winks and comments. They had at least managed to convince everyone to forgo the usual observation tradition, much to Zelda’s relief more than his, but it still seemed an odd and presumptuous thing in the first place. Nevermind that Zelda hadn’t been a virgin by their standards for over a year now.

The royal bedchambers are perhaps well appointed, though not as pleasing to him as his rooms back in Gintu. He’d learn to live with them though.

Zelda laughed as he scooped her up. “Insatiable,” she teased. 

“Always,” Ghan agreed with a smile, kissing her again. “I would think it a good thing,” he told her as he pulled away. “You are my wife, after all, one should hope I never tire of you.” She blushed a very pretty pink.

With ease he carried her to the bed, setting her down on it and crawling over her to kiss her again. Barely even distracted by the faint click of the door closing.

Link yanked on his braid, pulling Ghan away from Zelda. “Why do you always start without me?” He complained good-naturedly.

“Maybe,” Zelda began, voice prim, even as Ghan began to undress her. “You just need to take the initiative more.”

“I do that and Ghan gets mad at me,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. Still, he began to undress, grinning himself as he finished and crawled onto the bed, bending down to kiss Zelda.

Ghan shook his head. “Because you pick the worst times,” he replied. 

Zelda rolled her eyes back. “Shut up and come here.”

Taking off his own clothes, Ghan obeyed.

And the world was good.

Notes:

And there we have it.

As for what's next? Well I've got the last chapter of Blasphemy to finish up, then I've got a ZelGan project that I'm working on w/ Ro_blaze that we can fully dig into and hopefully start to post in the coming months.

Until then, stay safe and enjoy yourselves!