Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
— Prologue —
The second watch of the night was near. Tense desert air thick with an unusual chill mingled with the scent of smoke. Torches dotted the Gerudo Palace walls like blooming flowers ablaze. Inside these walls, governances had been forged for the people that guided their civilization to prosperity for centuries. But not at this hour, for everyone in the royal court had long since retired to their chambers for the evening.
Save for one restless soul.
A dark, cloaked figure, looming but remarkably poised, glided in silence through the palace halls. His youthful gait would have been unmistakable to even the lowest commoner, but tonight, he made every effort to be subtle. For once, he did not want to be noticed.
The figure swooped past the ornate columns and flowing pools then set a gangly foot into the throne room. He waited vigilantly for the other party to arrive for this secret rendezvous, but not without stealing another glance at the golden throne behind him. Its engraved words at the back of the seat were familiar, of course, for he had memorized them his whole life. They bathed in the silvery moonlight, a centerpiece to the magnificent desert view backdrop:
“GERUDO
A RESILIENT DESERT FLOWER,
FACING THE SUN'S GAZE,
GERUDO GROWS BRILLIANT.”
But those words resonated differently today than any other he could remember. Tomorrow, at long last, his destiny would be realized! The first Crown Prince in one hundred years would finally become of age to gain the rightful title Chief King of the Gerudo.
Chief. King. Ganondorf. Oh, yes… how he liked the sound of that.
Would it also make him the youngest Gerudo ruler in history at sixteen? Oh, what did it matter? Tomorrow, he would be king! His large fingers brushed the throne’s gleaming armrest in the moonlight. The Gerudo throne... His throne. Surely he was born for this moment. No more fooling around with that foolish web of regency anymore. Freedom! A fleeting thought beckoned him to sit in it before his time.
What was taking her so long? He had a country to rule! Didn’t she know there was work to be done?
Suddenly, he heard graceful footsteps floating down the hall. A second cloaked figure appeared, also tall and imposing but this time with an established feminine build. The flickering torchlight made her proud hawklike face look all the more impressive.
The young prince’s sharp words cut through the cold air like a knife. “You’re late, Buliara.”
Bowing her head low, the royal bodyguard uncloaked her hood. Crimson red hair draped over her shoulders. “My apologies to keep you waiting, Your Highness. It’s done.” In her hands, she offered a leather pouch stuffed to the brim. She opened it up, the inside filled with strange jewels emanating an unearthly green hue.
Her pointed jaw was clenched and her emerald gaze was tight. “They are awaiting your next direction.” She frowned. “But not without striking a hard bargain.”
The cloaked prince snatched the pouch from her and flashed a mischievous grin. “Excellent. Inform them to meet me at the South wall…” His amber eyes narrowed. “Alone.”
For a moment, one could have sworn Buliara’s scowl lines had deepened all the more. “Yes, Master Ganondorf.”
With a curt bow, the Gerudo servant pulled forward her oversized hood, turned her heel from her teenage master, and slipped into the shadows once more. Though irritated by the underlying lack of respect, Ganondorf told himself to pay no mind. She would see things his way soon enough. He stole a moment to roll one of the stones through his fingers and examine its ominous beauty.
To think that such things had the potential for anyone to command so much power. It was irresistible. Almost intoxicating.
Everything was going according to plan. Now, only one crucial step remained.
With that, the dark prince stuffed the jewel into its pouch, hid it well beneath his cloak, and headed straight for the secret exit pathway.
Little did he know, a fair noble maiden, her beauty unmatched in the court even in her nightgown attire, had been spying on him behind a statue from afar.
~~~
Chapter 2: The Desert Rose
Chapter Text
~~~~~~ ACT I ~~~~~~
Chapter 1: The Desert Rose
Bright light bathes my face in vermillion gold. I rub the sleep from my eyes and greet the new day with a lazy yawn. It’s tempting to stay longer in the soft, warm silk sheets and plush bed, but the call of duty and the beautiful rising sun wins over as the stronger draw. Climbing out from my roomy bed, I push away the translucent bed hangings of silk woven in gold thread. A servant vehvi offers me a cup of kohasha, a familiar morning brew made from roasted volt fruit seeds. My lips meet the rich dark drink with notes of volt fruit, almond, and fine chocolate. Ah yes, virgin kohasha . Just the way I always like it.
With sleepy eyes and kohasha in hand, I shuffle out of my bed chambers to behold the sunrise over the Great Desert on the balcony. It pokes out of the Eastern Mountains as it pulls back the curtain of the night. The Great Desert… What a stunning, mysterious place. Without a doubt, viewing the stunning scenery of it all is my favorite part of the whole day.
My dear friend, Lady Sarai, whose name means serenity in her native dialect, greets me on the balcony a few moments later as I let my thoughts wander with the sun’s path in the sky, and I return the same. A single low braid resting on her shoulder ties together her long auburn hair.
“Dear Princess, come see what I have been cultivating!” she says. A small sturdy-trunked potted plant rests in her graceful hands, crowned with two stunning blooms that almost rival the sun. “I call it the Golden Desert Rose.”
“It’s beautiful, Lady Sarai!” What an excellent flower! I smile in awe. “A fine specimen indeed.”
“And now it’s yours,” she says. “What you’re looking at is the first successfully propagated offspring. Fit for a queen!”
“Oh, Sarai!” I gasp, “You know how I get along with plants. I don’t have the best green thumb.” But Sarai smiles.
“There is no need to worry, your Highness. For the Desert Rose thrives in the harshest wilderness. Its rare beauty is to be treasured, yet it is hardy as a cactus. I think you’ll take a good shining to it.” I pause.
“Well then… If you’re confident I won’t kill this specimen next, I have faith in you.” Sarai’s golden hoop earrings dance as her melodious laugh rings in the air.
“You won’t, I promise you that much!” I’ve always marveled at Lady Sarai’s mastery of horticulture. She’s dabbled in nurturing all sorts of desert plants ever since we grew up as vehvies together. Lately, her new line of succulents has taken Gerudo Town by storm. Any vai with good taste isn’t caught dead without one of Sarai’s succulents on proud display atop her table or windowsill.
We then chatter about various things, including Lady Sarai’s idea to introduce her newest cultivation to the public during one of the most important holidays on the Gerudo calendar, the Festival of Tents.
Ah yes, the Festival of Tents draws near! It’s a special time for us Gerudo, you see. Each year for seven days, from the least to the greatest, we would leave the comforts of our fortified cities to set up woven tents in the sands as our ancestors once did. Some Gerudo tribes live like this on the Desert outskirts today. The Royal Family visits them on occasion. But during The Festival of Tents, we are reminded that we are all one people. It is a time of reflection, the strength of character, and the celebration of our rich culture. Most of all, I might finally get the chance to spend more time with Father.
I lean against the balcony railing and stare out over the desert wilds. Already the air begins to dance with heat as the sun climbs higher into the sky. He’s been so terribly busy these days. I wonder what he’s up to?
“Do you think he’ll be able to make it?”
“Of course, he will, Sarai,” I deadpan. “He’s the Chief King.”
“No, no! Not that. I mean – to see you. And Lady Riju.” She presses her fingertips together. “As in…just the three of you.”
“Oh.” I sigh through my nose. “It’s…hard to say. I certainly hope so.” Lady Sarai slowly nods.
“Well, chin up there sunshine. Maybe this year.” I force myself to smile. I appreciate her encouragement, truly I do, but why can’t I shake off the inevitable sense of disappointment? What makes this year different from any other? It’s like a dark sandstorm looming over me from the horizon.
Suddenly, we hear the screechy voice of a certain vai noble assaulting our ears across the distance.
“ Sav’ooootta, Lady Sarai!” Oh no…not her. Lady Midoru Vishtashi, daughter of the Third Council Head. Must I see her putrid face already at this hour?
Lady Midoru struts across the balcony in her fine morning silk. Glittering jewels dance in the sunlight as she walks, but combined with that smug mug of hers it might as well be gaudy.
“Oh. And sav’otta to you as well, Your… Highness ," she says condescendingly, "Please forgive me. I almost didn’t see Your Grace in the… blinding sun.”
See, it’s not that I mind snobbishness. It drags on in the daily business of the Palace Courts. I can play the game. I’m above that, after all. But Midoru? Well, that’s a whole different level. She thinks she’s untouchable. She’s the only noble besides the Royal Family who can claim the Full Blood Right. An ancient law of old, the Full Blood Right grants certain privileges to those who are fortunate enough to have a Gerudo mother and father. And her father happens to be the Third Council Head, to boot. I’m reminded of that all too well. Every. Single. Day. Of. My. Life.
“So have you heard, Princess Blondie? Of my prized thoroughbred Gerudo Mare?” Midoru croons. “She’s a fine horse, indeed. Said to be able to outrun last year’s winner two times over. No doubt she can squash that ruddy runt of yours in the Festival’s Great Race.”
“Those are quite lofty claims, Lady Midoru,” I counter. “Are you so sure about that? Epona and I have been practicing for months. A sturdy war horse, she is. And great stamina. I wouldn’t be so quick to judge a book by its cover if I were you.”
Lady Midoru rolls her amber eyes and sticks up her pointy nose. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. You can’t lose. You’re the King’s favorite!”
“Hey! Watch your tongue. You’re speaking to the Princess, here! I don’t plan the events. And I don’t cheat!”
Lady Midoru flutters her mascara eyes at me and feigns a gasp. “Ooh, I’m so scared. What shall you do to me, hm? Tattle to your 'daddy' and kidnap me in secret? Toss me into the dungeon to rot?” She lowers her nose and her snarky voice that of a whisper. “You and I both know that’s not going to go down well.”
Ugh, that’s the last straw! My vision burns white, and my long ears grow hot. Next thing I know, my fist flies to wipe that stupid grin off her plastered face. “Then let’s settle it right here—”
“Enough!” Lady Sarai swoops in between us and catches our flailing selves with both of her arms. “Break it up, you two!” Midoru may be taller than me, but not by much. However, Sarai towers over both of us at age twenty-three. “Act like the nobility you are, for a change!”
Not wanting anyone else to catch wind of our outburst, Midoru and I dust ourselves off in humiliation.
“Yes, ma’am,” we mumble in unison.
Lady Midoru regains composure, but not without pointing at me with a huff on her way out. “Well, be prepared to eat sand, Goldilocks, because I’m going to be the one who wins the Great Race this year. You watch!”
Just like that, off she goes. Lady Midoru struts away and rejoins a cluster of her maidservants fawning after her. She switches gears and flatters a group of other nobles in the distance with her saccharine sav’ottas , hook line, and sinker. Man, do I despise her clout. Lady Sarai shoots her a stern look of her own.
“Pay no mind to that one, Lady Rinku. Vais like her are just trying to get your Sand Seal.”
“I suppose you’re right,” I mutter, “it doesn’t make matters any easier.”
“That would be true,” Sarai says. She gives me a sideways look. “But you can’t solve all of life’s predicaments with a punch.” I grant her an incredulous face.
“Why not?” Lady Sarai laughs and shakes her head, but does not give me an answer.
“The day is young. Let’s greet your sister together, shall we?”
~~~
Artwork by Elven Ariaera
Chapter 3: The Festival of Tents
Chapter Text
Chapter 2: The Festival of Tents
Sarai and I walk through the royal corridors down to the Courtyard. It’s one of Riju’s favorite areas to be in. Sure enough, the servants have already prepared breakfast for Riju and her pet sand seal Patricia by the time we get there. She lifts two more slices of fruit ever so delicately with her engraved prongs and hovers it over her companion’s porcelain plate. “Would you care for some more Hydromelon, dear Patricia?”
“Arf! Arf!” the gray sand seal replies, and Riju drops it before her. The salivating creature happily engulfs the lush pink fruit in two great chomps between her enormous tusks. The juice dribbles all over her fur. “Eww…” I really wish my sister would stop feeding her sand seals at the table.
Riju glances up, paying no mind to my obvious disapproval leaking out. “Oh. V’otta, dear sister! And you too, Sarai. Lovely weather today.” She smiles ever so giddily. “Will you join us for breakfast?”
“Erm, well,” I trail off through my gritted teeth. I suppose I reacted a little too obvious. But Sarai, of course, is unfazed. We’ve known each other since we were vehvis, after all. I shouldn’t have hesitated, because now Sarai won’t give me an opening to back out of the offer. She pokes at my side with her elbow and declares, “Why, yes, of course we will, Lady Riju! Sarqso. That’s kind of you.”
Riju laughs victoriously as I rub my side in indignance, knowing full well how Patricia (and Sarai) can annoy me at times. Much to my chagrin, we all sit down to breakfast in the Courtyard. Oh well. At least I’m not next to fur-face. Don’t get me wrong, I love animals even more than most vai. There’s just… a time and place for everything, if you know what I mean.
But once we settle in, it doesn’t take long for us to throw ourselves into chatter about my beautiful gift from Sarai, all the juicy details about the Festival tomorrow, and of course, what a foul, miserable being Midoru is.
“So that’s why you’re in such a mood,” Riju jests. “It makes sense now.”
I can’t help but scowl at that putrid vai skulking around in my head. “She knows full well I can’t do a thing about it,” I grumble.
Riju’s pondering eyes rest down to her plate as she hears my plight. Her hand strokes her chin. “Well, you can do one thing.” She smiles. “Ignore her. And win that race.”
I massage my forehead and groan. “You know that’s easier said than done, Rij.”
“True. But it’s possible,” Riju says behind her cup of tea with a coy smirk. “Besides, the next time she comes saber-rattling at you, I’ll be more than happy to remind her what the Full Blood Right is really capable of.”
Sarai glances at the clock on the wall to her left—quarter till eleven. “It’s time to suit up and head out,” she says. “We don’t want to be late!” The three of us head over to the Royal Stable, with happy Patricia waddling close behind. The servants have taken extra care of the horses for the occasion. All of them stand ready in their best royal gear for the Festival procession. They’ve done an impeccable job with Epona’s braid in her mane. It coordinates perfectly with the intricate details of her royal saddle. Riju’s mare, of course, sports a bright pink bow in hers. A royal platform for Patricia to ride on is harnessed behind her, although it’s rather silly since Patricia could technically swim through the sand anyway. Riju probably doesn’t want Patricia to get dirty on the way to the Festival.
“Good morning, Epona.” I pat her soft and freshly washed muzzle. “Looking fine today, sweet girl. Ready to show them who’s boss?”
Little Epona’s proud whinny makes me laugh. “Of course you are. Let’s get ‘em!”
Topaz, Father’s horse, suddenly nudges the back of my head with a hot snort of his own. He’s so gargantuan that he almost shoves me into Epona. “Hey now! I didn’t forget you, Topaz,” I laugh. I reach up and pet his towering ebony neck. “You look ready to slay too, sir. Born ready.”
Everyone in the stable suddenly bows. A rich baritone voice closes the distance. “What’s all of this commotion about? You would think it to be some kind of holiday around here.”
“Voda!” Riju and I gasp in unison, followed by Riju’s giddy “‘Votta!” Her dress clinks as she bounces into him. “Sa’votta,” I correct her with an internal cringe. Must my sister always be so immature?
But Father doesn’t seem to mind. His large arms easily embrace the impact. He motions me into the fold, and I dive in. His warm smile instantly melts away any awkwardness. “Sa’votta to you both,” Ganondorf says, then pokes at Riju playfully, “Now Riju, remember that it is not fit for us to prattle informal vernacular.”
Riju giggles. “Aw, c’mon, Voda. Isn’t that what the cool kids say now?”
“That may be so, but slang words come and go like chaff in the wind. Our words are eternal.”
Told you, I mouth to Riju while making a face.
“However,” he adds with a wink, “I suppose on a day this jovial, we can afford an informal expression or two.”
“Yes!” Riju whispers in victory. I concede with a smile. “Fair enough,” I sigh.
Proud Buliara enters the stable next. Topaz paws the ground and snorts. “The preparations are ready, your Majesty,” says Buliara. “My scouts have scanned the pathway for any possible intruders.”
“Good,” Ganondorf says. “We wouldn’t want any ruffians to spoil our party.” He mounts Topaz and pats the side of his neck. “Let’s have a little fun, shall we?”
The rest of us mount our steeds and our royal entourage begins the procession, with Buliara and the Royal Guard leading the way ahead of Father, and Riju and I close behind. Sarai and the rest of the Council soon join the fold and ride behind us. Fortunately, I’m positioned well ahead of Midoru. Colorful banners and streamers brimming with the pride of the Gerudo ripple around us as we canter past throngs of cheering subjects in Gerudo Town Square. We ride past the great statue of Her Majesty the Queen as the crowd waves flags and flings flower petals high into the air. She stands towards the town gates in confidence against the unknown, ready to defend against any enemy that might threaten our precious city. She was erected to serve as a beacon of honor and comfort to us in recent years. But today her towering presence only reminds me of her passing all the more.
I push the painful lump down my throat. Oh, Veba… dearest Mum. If only you could be here for this Festival, just one more time…
You tried so hard to stay with us. But you’re not here. And you’ll never come back.
I blink, ripping my misty eyes away from her dauntless face and instead steal my gaze upon the bright dusty horizon.
Out we trot through the Town Gate. Our entourage spills into the sea of sand as we travel under the milky blue sky. It doesn’t take too long to reach our destination, however. After roughly an hour, a beautiful kaleidoscope of tents greet us on the horizon under the climbing sun. Children laugh and squeal as they dart across the sands with their sand seals in a lively game of tag. Spunky youths challenge each other to daring sparring matches. Clusters of merchants set up their colorful booths in hopes of attracting profitable crowds. Minstrels pepper the atmosphere with their elaborate Gerudo ballad rehearsals. But everywhere we trot, the people drop everything and bow before us as if a sphere of time froze around us in this dusty desert world. Crowds upon crowds stoop over as we pass by like rippling Safflina bending to the will of the desert winds. Ganondorf's composure remains dignified, unflinching.
“Behold, make way!” cries Bularia, “Bow before His Majesty Chief King Ganondorf, Her Highness Lady Rinkuru, and Lady Makeela Riju!”
I'm well aware that this fanfare is part of the job, but sometimes I wonder if I would enjoy the Festival far better as a sand flea instead.
Our colorful entourage eventually arrives at our tents, where we will stay for the rest of the holiday. Father’s tent is the grandest of them all, of course, adorned with the finest jewels from Death Mountain. There’s my tent, and then there’s Riju’s, which of course is covered in gaudy sand seals and pink satin bows that are quite frankly past her age by now, but I try not to say anything. I instead decide to distract myself with the commoner tents in the Festival camp. They’re my favorite. Each family tent tells their own intricate story, you see, and the patterns are different every year. Many of them list woven names of genealogies. Some depict scenes or symbols of important events in their lives. All of the Gerudo tribes have their own versions of our national emblem woven into the mastery of their needlework. Fine threads of red, blue, and gold glimmer in the dancing sun. Some families choose to honor the same narrative year after year. Others add more designs with time. Others still decide to change the design completely. All of them show masterful craftsmanship for the occasion.
Do you wonder what my tent looks like? Oh, it’s not that big of a deal, really. Most of the outside consists of a simple sturdy canvas with gemstone accents. It’s nice to see my Epona embroidery again this year. With the beadwork of over ten thousand diamond beads that Father commissioned for me. Well, I suppose that is kind of a big deal.
I wash the dust off my face as my attendant helps me settle into my tent. There’s not much else to do right now when the hot sun is this high in the sky. I’m served a light lunch of salad greens and Hydromelon as I mull over my part for tonight's royal program, then take a brief nap. Though the Festival is tomorrow, the Opening Ceremony begins tonight at sundown. I might as well take advantage of the brief calm before the storm in the meantime.
~~~
Chapter 4: Chapter 3: The Dark Chief King
Chapter Text
Chapter 3: The Dark Chief King
Ganondorf surveyed the colorful island of tents in the sandy sea from a nearby jutted mesa. He folded his arms and smiled. This was a good year. The tents had doubled their numbers since the last Festival. A silhouette of the Gerudo Capital’s rocky landmark stood tall and proud in the distance, its shimmering waterfalls gracefully cascading its sides down to the center of the city. The Gerudo had finally rebounded into a powerful and prosperous nation again, blessed with education, a robust militia, underground springs, and a bustling merchant center. Hopefully, they would soon be in a position to expand trade across the mountains.
Ganondorf remembered the years when things were far worse. It seemed like only yesterday. A crippling drought had scarred his people like the western wind stripping the palm trees of their precious fruits. Whether it was the scorching heat of the day or the frigid night air that pierced their homes, it didn’t matter. In those days, the wind always brought the same thing. Death.
With drought came famine prowling around the corner. And once famine struck its blow, plague reared its ugly head to join the pack. Plagues were no respecter of titles or persons. He never forgot the pain in Rinkuru’s eyes when they lost her mother. She was just a vehvi then, a scared little Hylian vai . She was not yet able to comprehend how harsh life could be in the desert.
Even though Rinkuru was different, in many ways she reminded him of his dearest Queen. Rinku’s strength was admirable for her size. The Gerudo welcomed her when they took in the tiny infant from the outside world, and soon the two vai became inseparable as she grew into their beloved golden princess. “Desert Rose” was what they called her. To this day Rinkuru still carried herself with so many of the Queen’s outspoken mannerisms, it was sometimes too painful for him to listen to her voice. How he missed that bright spirit terribly.
It was clear the hardships had been his fault. The Gerudo kingdom long since recovered from those gruesome days. But how much time would the respite last? Surely the gods weren’t finished with him yet. After all, he was only delaying the inevitable. It would simply be a matter of time until… until—
Ganondorf flinched. No! That’s enough. Banish the blasted thought!
Child of the sun he may be, the afternoon light beating upon his back couldn’t seem to penetrate the looming void that constantly threatened trouble in his heart.
How deep that darkness was! No matter how many times he toiled to form a clever plan or conjure up an answer to it, Ganondorf always returned to the same terrible conclusion. It haunted him. Vexed him, even. At some point, he knew it would force him to leave his people behind. Surely it would be the end of them all if he didn’t. Except, he couldn’t leave them. He was their Chief King. That would also undoubtedly be the end of them all.
Ganondorf frowned. Rinkuru, Riju… they were still so young. Much progress had been made. But there was more to do. If only he could steal just a little more time.
The flow of time was always cruel.
A calm steady voice pulled Ganondorf out of his dark web of melancholy. Buliara stood beside him, ever dutiful with her hands resting on the pommel of her royal Gerudo claymore. “Please forgive your servant, your Majesty. You seem troubled in thought. Is everything all right?”
Ganondorf blinked. He welcomed the distraction. “As well as it can be, I suppose,” he said with a wry smile.
The loyal bodyguard pursed her lips. She carefully nodded with a knowing look. “Today is today. Tomorrow is tomorrow,” was all she said.
“True,” the king admitted. Buliara had always been by his side. She was safe.
The two mighty Gerudo watched over their flock of tents in silence. Over there, they were the untouchable Chief King and his unwavering Captain of the Guard. But out here in the great wilderness, they were simply old friends.
After about a time and a half, Buliara’s voice pierced the silence of the wind like a tailor’s choice knife through fine silk. “The Opening Ceremony draws near, your Majesty,” she said. “If I may be so bold to speak, perhaps it is ideal for the King to visit his daughters in private while he still can.”
Ganondorf paused. He couldn’t help but notice the worried countenance fastened in her eyes. “I… would like that,” he sighed. “Very much.”
Satisfied with her master’s agreement, Buliara nodded with conviction. “We will go to them then, your Majesty.” Her claymore shone in the sun as she slipped it into her giant sheathe with one graceful swoop. “Let’s be off.”
~~~
Wafts of warm cinnamon and cardamom dance upon the tip of my nose as my attendants rouse me awake. Oh, that’s right! They’re here to assist me with preparations for tonight’s royal Opening Ceremony. A spectacle of beauty potions, fine silk, brushes and jewels await me in my transformation of a properly embodied Gerudo princess. But for the royal outfit, the one I have picked is a little simpler, intended more for withstanding the outdoor elements than for showy aesthetics.
The guards herald Riju and her attendants entering my tent. She’s in a similar coordinated outfit as mine, with of course enough embellishments of bows to mark the distinction.
I fasten a diamond earring while a servant touches up the hair by my diadem. “Father’s gift — do you have it?”
Riju holds out a decorated box wrapped in ornate gold ribbons. “Of course! How could I forget? You know how hard it is to surprise him, though.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I say to her after dismissing the servants. “Just hang onto it for now. We’ll figure it out.”
Sadness penetrates my mental fortress at the sound of my own words. Time for gifts… Who am I kidding? I mean, who knows when we’ll actually get to see him, however briefly. We’ll probably just have his servants deliver it to his chambers again like last year.
Oh well. It is what it is.
“So have you seen Lady Sarai’s tent? It’s stunning,” Riju swoons. She tucks the gift behind some velvet cushions in the corner. “Her plants are amazing, they’re in bloom right now. So many colors!”
I feign a smile. “I’m sure they’re lovely. But aren’t you going to see Frelly? Patricia liked playing with Zarashi last year.
Riju chuckles. “Oh believe me, she already found him. She zipped so fast through the sand to get to him, I could hardly keep up with her. They played all afternoon when we got here. She’s out like a light now.” She placed a thoughtful finger on her fair chin. “Say, why don’t you have a sand seal anyway?”
My fingers tuck a rogue strand of hair behind my ear. “Me? Oh, I don’t know. There’s a lot on my plate right now. What, with all the studies of tactical warfare as of late. And I already have Epona.” Cool evening air tickles my face.
Riju shrugged. “Your attendants could look after it. Sand seals do come in handy.”
I walk over to the back of the tent and tighten the open flap rippling in a light breeze. “True,” I admit. “They are good transports. It’s just… Well, no offense. Sand seals can be so… dirty .”
That’s strange. I look, blink and turn around to face Riju again. Surely the guards would have noticed an opening like tha—
“Hello, Rinkuru,” Ganondorf says.
“AUGH!” My heart leaps into my throat as I catch myself from snagging my fine silk onto a tent pole. “ Voda! ” I yelp, “Don’t scare me like that!”
I must have jumped at least a foot high into the air, because Riju is now sprawled out on the fine woven rug howling at my expense. Typical.
Father is no help at all with that devious grin of his. “Even by walking through the back?” he asks almost innocently.
Almost.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms in a huff as my galloping heart settles into my rib cage. Riju eventually stands up to compose herself and shrugs her shoulders. “Well, I thought it was funny,” she emphasizes in defense.
Nonetheless, the spirited Gerudo humor catches me like it usually does and a chuckle cracks through my indignant facade. Why is it so difficult to stay annoyed at these clowns? “Okay fine, that was quite entertaining,” I admit through a smirk. “At least you didn’t materialize out of thin air this time. Bonus points for that!”
Ganondorf laughs. “Bonus points? Ha! Sounds like someone wants to settle the score.”
I grin with satisfaction. “And what if I do?” I counter.
“Well, we would have to save it for later,” Ganondorf says. “Here, I have something for you two.” And with a snap of his fingers, several items decorated with golden ribbons appear from the void of energy before him. Ganondorf smiles. “Happy Festival of Tents.”
Riju’s eyes dance in the candlelight. “Ooh! Presents!” We exclaim in unison.
Ganondorf holds out the first gift to me, an un-notched wooden bow that looks rather plain at first. Its simple fabric matches the colors of the Gerudo Royal Family Crest and wraps around its center. But don’t let its looks fool you. I recognize this bow instantly, and there’s nothing ordinary about it. The wood is crafted from the strongest pines in the Highlands, and the string is enchanted with magic powerful enough to take down its target in a single shot. It can outlast even the best bows in the Gerudo artillery. This— this is—
“The King’s Bow?” I gasp. “Oh, Father! That’s your favorite bow. I… I can’t possibly be worthy to have this! Are you certain?”
“I insist,” Ganondorf says. “Consider this your coming of age gift. You have already been training with the King’s Arrow, and you will have more opportunities in the future. Besides, I can always make another one. Here, Rinkuru,” he says, and gently folds the Bow into the palms of my hands. “Go on. Take it. It’s yours now.”
I accept the gift and gaze upon its strength in amazement. The dark wood is smooth to the touch and soft like butter. Powerful energy thrums through my arms. I embrace him with heartfelt gratitude. “It’s wonderful, Father. Thank you.”
“Now Riju, come here,” he motions. “This is for you.”
Young Riju looks up at Father in sincere expectation. “I have seen your magical prowess grow stronger by the day, as I have expected nothing less from you,” he says. “However, Gerudo royalty must not depend on raw magic alone to be successful. You will need something to channel it through, a conductor if you will, to refine it and master your craft. That is why I am giving you these…”
And with that, he holds out two sheathes before her adorned with the royal crest. Riju’s eyes grow wide. “What? Your Twin Scimitars? No way!”
Ganondorf smiles. “They helped me a great deal when I was young. They’re a little large for you now, but soon you will grow into them. It will take some getting used to,” he admits, then closes his eyes for a moment, as if revisiting a distant memory. “I was alone in my training then. Fortunately, you won’t be.”
“Oh, thank you, Voda! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!” Riju springs into him in an awkward hug, but he takes it in stride. “I will keep them in my armory, and I will polish them, and I will cherish them forever and ever!” she declares.
I softly clear my throat. “Rij… Riju! Ready?”
“Oh! Right.” She carefully sets down the Scimitars and canters over to the cushion to retrieve the prize. “And now, your Majesty, we have something for you.”
Father raises a playful eyebrow. “For me? Well, how can I possibly resist? You may proceed.”
We deliver the present together with great delight and hold it out to him. The ornate golden box is well decorated. Father sets it on the palm of his hand and opens it carefully. A large shimmering topaz greets him with the burning colors of a vibrant sunset. Much to our surprise, it almost takes his breath away. “What is this? A facet?”
“It’s for your circlet!” Riju exclaims. “Do you… do you like it?”
And for a moment I almost hold my own breath, wondering if the thing had disconcerted him somehow because mist gathers around his eyes now, but then his face becomes unusually soft, and he smiles with such a tender expression, the kind that a king would only save for two daughters he is immensely proud of.
“It’s splendid,” he finally says. “Thank you.”
Pensiveness melts into relief and sheer joy. “You’re welcome, Voda,” we say.
We embrace each other once more and excitedly fasten the crown jewel. Somewhere along the line in our shenanigans, Riju snatches up the golden ribbons from the leftover gift wrap and dares us to add them as an accessory to Father’s ceremonial crown for the rest of the evening. We wholeheartedly agree. Riju and I proceed to decorate his entire head of hair in dainty golden bows and anoint each one with girlish cackling. This continues for what must have been a solid hour, because at some point Buliara swoops in from outside to pluck us all out of there with quite the hilarious perplexed face. Sundown is fast approaching and the time for us to get in our places for the traditional Opening Ceremony speech begins very soon.
And there the Chief King stands, giving his speech outside before the people with the most serious expression that only he could muster with dozens of glittering bows adorning his fiery royal hair.
What. Were. We. Thinking.
“Maybe he took this thing too seriously… Should we call it off?” Riju whispers next to me.
“Too late now,” I mouth to Riju.
“Well,” she relents, “I suppose we must ‘go big or go home,’ then.”
~~~
Artwork by Heather - Fearless Creative
A_Magical_Jester on Chapter 2 Fri 16 Feb 2024 03:59AM UTC
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